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#this is weird but it was fun to write
katabay · 3 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...
the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin
this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.
you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.
also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.
⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!
⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
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fantasykiri5 · 5 months
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I’m a little sick of how Lizzie’s death is just being made about Jimmy and the canary curse now so.
How about writing about how it was a freak accident. How much more tragic it was that it was in fact an accident.
She wasn’t expecting it. Nobody else was expecting it. Half the server laughed. Some of them died not 10 minutes later. I’d like to think she got to laugh at them in whatever afterlife they’re stuck in till the end. Or cuss them out a bit. Or both.
She didn’t have any allies. A couple shaky truces, but no real allies. She didn’t get to take revenge on Scar (for the many, many, times he wronged her.) or anyone else really.
She died without turning in her second red task. She’d completed it. She wanted to take out Scott before she turned it in. She died.
Scott was this close to falling off the ledge after her first couple hits. His feet were practically off the edge. If you think hard enough about it you can see the pebbles and dust crumble away as he dances the edge of the cliff, just pixels away from her completing what she set out to do. Something she set out to do largely for fun. It wasn’t in her task to hurt Scott. Scott brought gifts to her party after showing up late, he wronged her but there were many who wronged her tenfold. She was going to kill Scott because her husband asked, and she’d just hit him over the head with rocks so she might as well. She kept doing it for fun. She was red. She might as well. Maybe everyone who didn’t come to her party would fear her a little then.
Maybe you should write about how Lizzie lived in a pumpkin house, had a whole pumpkin patch, was one of the two people who found the pumpkins first with gem, and all it would have taken for her to not die there would have been to wear one?
Maybe you should write about how if she’d looked just a fraction to the left or right she wouldn’t have looked at the enderman? How if she had reacted with the enderpearl a few seconds earlier she could have made it back up? How she only thought to throw it because she started taking damage as she sunk into the bottom of the void? How the only reason she didn’t was because she wasn’t expecting it?
Maybe you should write about how she wasn’t expecting it.
Lizzie wasn’t expecting it.
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pastelhooman · 11 months
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[WVW Exchange Event 2023!]
"The kisses on your lash, your ears, on the nose that keeps scrunching. The kisses on your hand, on your cheeks, and the exchanging soft words waiting for the break of day."
----- ID under break -----
A total of 6 pages of comics, starting with a close up shots of vash kissing sleeping wolfwood's nose, eyes, lashes, and he furrows them a bit. an overhead shot of the two of them in a motel room, on the bed with vash leaning over wolfwood from the left, laying soft kisses on him. their legs tangled. their normal outfits are thrown haphazardly on the floor, instead donning comfortable clothes. on the outside, the very first ray of lights are yet to shine.
"what a face you're making pfft" - vash says as he grabs both of wolfwood's cheeks, squeezing them a bit. wolfwood mumbles, "There's something that keeps landing on my face, it tickles." he grabs the hand that is on his right cheek. "Well you're letting it happens anyways right?" Vash muses, bringing the hand up to kiss on its knuckles. "Good morning Wolfwood. It's almost dawn"
"… Isn't it way too soon?" - wolfwood asks, but keeps to himself the prayers he's sending to god because the the boy on top of him was such a sight to behold. Vash flops down onto him, leaving the hand hanging and lace his own hand into Wolfwood's hair, peppering kisses to the side of his face. "Yep" - he answers - "But you woke up on your own tho" - facetiously. He giggles, saying that it was a joke after a beat of silence. A sigh, "don't make me upside you first thing in the morning." Wolfwood closes his eyes, hand combing through golden strands. "Heh, how merciful~" "We have a meet up with Milly and Meryl today, remember?" Vash reminds him, which does raise some vague memory. wolfwood hums, the other hand reaching around vash's torso, hugging him. " So, the sooner we arrive, the less likely she'll chew through my head." - Vash adds. "riiiight. And you were SO urgent in waking me up." in wolfwood's hold, both of them slowly turn to the right, towards the edge of the bed.
Well, you were just soooo cute, I couldn't help it! didn't thinkk you'll actually wakE UAA-!"
the bed creaks under the sudden shift in weight as wolfwood tosses vash over and under him, arms firmly hugging him, one at his back and one at his head, hungrily dives down to kiss. "!! Wolf-! Wait-!" Vash yelps, leg instinctively curls around the other's man hip to hang on, trying his damnest to grip on his shirt as HE is now half airborne, barely has any contact with the bed on his upper body. However, wolfwood seems to have another idea as he keeps deepening the kiss, pointedly holding Vash close, hands spread guarding the back of his head as both of them are sliding off the soft fabric.
"THUD!" a resounding fall, possibly enough to wake the room downstairs, followed shortly by laboured breaths amist wet smacks of lips. Heaves and huffs of air exchanging between the two bodies when the need to breath made itself necessary. They press close, cradling each other, and are lost to their own world. After a while they had to part. Metal arm shifts through black locks, caressing down to his nape and they hold eye contacts there, with lidded eyes, strands of saliva thins then breaks.
Wolfwood pushes up on his arms, looking smugly down at his now disheveled partner: "Now this is how it's done, Needlenoggin." he remarks. Vash tries to wrangle his thoughts back in order, but strings of Wolfwood's name and a wonderous question keeps filling his mind, of whether he should risk it all and have fun for a bit more. Regardless, snapping out of his trance, Vash sourly asks, with a wry smile and an aching head: "But did you really need to roll off the bed?" "Wrong side, whoops" - Wolfwood anwers unseriously, laughing as he finds the situation quite amusing.
----- End of ID -----
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museaway · 1 year
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I wish I could write anything as quickly as tumblr collectively invented an entire film
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pizzaqueen · 4 months
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A snippet from a future fic I'll probably never write, where Steve is a widower with two teenage kids, and he and Eddie randomly meet up, rekindling their old flame. This is when they've been together a while:
“Thank you,” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie at the bathroom sink.
Eddie pauses, catching Steve's eye in the mirror. “What for?” he asks, mouth foamy with toothpaste.
Steve slips his hands along Eddie's hips, hooks his chin over Eddie's shoulder. “For loving my kids.”
“You don't—” Toothpaste dribbles down Eddie's chin and he stoops to spit what's left in his mouth into the sink, gathering his hair to one side. He rinses his mouth out, wipes his face with a towel, then turns to Steve. “You don't have to thank me for that. Of course I love them.”
“Not everyone I've dated has.”
“They're idiots.” Eddie grabs the hem of Steve's shirt, pulling him close. “I mean, first of all, they're part of you, and I don't think I could love you and not love them. But...” He trails off, a small smile tilting his lips. “They're amazing kids.”
Pride swells in Steve's chest; he slides his arms around Eddie's waist and says, “They are.”
“And I'm pretty damn honored I get to be part of their lives,” Eddie says, “so thank you,” and he butts his head gently against Steve's.
Steve huffs and slides his hands up Eddie's back, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you.” He presses a kiss to Eddie's neck.
“I love you too.”
“And they both love you as well.”
Eddie lets out a shuddering breath. Steve knows how nervous Eddie was, when they started dating, that he wouldn't be welcomed, but it's almost like he's always been part of their family now. “Good to know,"”Eddie says.
Steve holds Eddie a little tighter. All those years ago, back in Hawkins, when they ended things, Steve thought he'd never see Eddie again. But here they are, together—a family—and Steve's never letting him go this time.
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marlynnofmany · 5 months
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Arboreal Species
We had plenty of options for ways to keep occupied while waiting for the client to show up and collect his delivery. Several of the crew were playing card games with the captain, using a delivery crate as a table, and she was beating the pants off all of them. (Though none of these particular aliens wore pants. You know what I mean.) Some of the others waited inside the ship, declaring boredom with this particular patch of exotic wilderness.
The rest chatted with crew from the ship that had arrived after us, which was also delivering cargo for the same late-to-arrive local. They had plenty to complain about. They also had food to share, and a decent chance that it would be edible by those they shared it with.
While Alien Food Roulette was always exciting, I’d found a much better option.
“Hey, they tell me your species climbs things,” the stranger from the other ship had said, long snout curling into a smile. She looked like a mix of 3/4 baboon and 1/4 crocodile.
“They’re right!” I replied easily. There weren’t many climbing opportunities on our little courier ship, and I was curious where this was going.
The alien pointed at a huge tree on the edge of the landing pad, which boasted smooth orange bark with branches every couple feet. “I’m gonna go climb that. Care to join me?”
“Would I ever!” I said, already heading toward it. I called back over my shoulder, “If you guys need me, I’ll be up a tree!”
Captain Sunlight didn’t even look away from the game, just waving distractedly, her scaly face intent on whatever play Mur had just made. He was chuckling about it and rubbing his tentacles together in a way that was probably a bluff. As soon as I looked away, he made a noise that said the good captain had just wrecked his clever plan. Trrili hissed with laughter.
None of them cared that I was about to climb to a dangerous height. None thought this was out of character in the slightest, and all of them were missing out on an excellent climbing experience.
It was a great tree. The bark was smooth but not slippery, reminding me of a madrone tree from back home, just without the flaky outer layer. And it didn’t feel as cold. If anything, it was warm as we scampered skyward, almost as if the tree welcomed a good climb by people who’d appreciate it.
The alien stopped, picking a branch to sit on and leaning back against another. “Now that is a nice view.”
I had to agree. “It is!” I found my own convenient pair of branches, draping my arms over the top one and finding a nice footrest on a third. “Everybody down there doesn’t know what they’re missing.” The forest around the landing pad was bright with oranges and yellows, the kind of vivid colors that I associated with autumn, but which could have been year-round here. Rolling hills lined the horizon, with a river sparkling merrily in the distance. The only straight line was the road. It made a nice counterpoint to all the gentler natural shapes.
My new friend cupped a hand to her snout unnecessarily. “Hey, everybody down there! You should come see this view!”
To no one’s surprise, she got a chorus of “no thanks.”
I shook my head. “Such a shame. They’re missing out on all the knowledge that comes from above, too. Hey, Paint!” I yelled down to the crewmate who had just dropped a box of round things. “One rolled under the ramp, and two are over in the grass!” I pointed them out.
A distant “Thank you!” reached my ears.
The alien nodded. “Wisdom of the heights indeed. What else can we see, that those on the ground can’t?”
We spent a good few minutes pointing things out to each other and swapping stories. Apparently her people were called the Farsights, for exactly this reason.
“Oh, motion on the road!” she declared, squinting into the distance. “Looks like somebody’s in a rush to be a little less late.”
“Well that ship has launched,” I said, following her eyes. “Nice thought, though. Say, is that one car or two?”
The Farsight didn’t answer immediately, which made me worry a little. Then she said “Uh oh,” which made me worry a lot.
“Uh oh what?”
She stood up on the branch and bellowed, “INCOMING! Client’s being chased by hostile fauna!”
“Oh jeez.” Now I could see it too: something large and antlered galloping after the little surface skimmer. Both were headed straight toward our landing pad.
Chaos erupted down below as we slid off our perches and scrambled downward. The bark was still friendly-smooth.
“I think that creature eats these!” my friend said, bounding out toward the end of a branch to shake loose a bundle of round seedpod things. “I’ve seen them before!”
“Will that matter?” I asked, slowing. “It looks pretty mad!”
“Can’t hurt!”
I couldn’t argue that. There were more than a few seedpods waiting on my path down, all of which came loose with a little judicious bouncing of the branches. When I hit the ground, it was in a sea of baseball-shaped plant bits.
The rest of the crew was scrambling to move crates and dash into the ships for anything weaponlike. A handful of beefy individuals from the other crew lined up to stare the thing down as it approached, and my ship’s biggest and scariest hurried to join them. Trrili claimed a place in front with her black-and-red carapace gleaming in the sun, pincher arms spread wide. She left space for the skimmer to zip past, but only just.
I grabbed seedpods, making a basket with my shirt. “Will we need these? Is it going to stop?”
“Beats me!” said my new friend. She grabbed an armload and ran. “Let’s find out!”
I raced after. We joined the lineup just before the gigantic whatever-it-was skidded to a halt, rearing to paw the air and roar thunderously. The guy in the skimmer was trying to park behind our ship. The various scary aliens yelled back at the huge moose-rhino.
“How well can you throw?” asked my friend, not waiting for an answer. She dumped her armload and started chucking seedpods.
“Pretty well!” I didn’t bother dropping mine, just grabbing them one by one from my shirt basket and aiming for the head.
I didn’t count how many of those direct shots were me, but I’m going to say most of them. The pods burst into squishy fruit with a solid core, doing a great job of annoying the creature as well as coating it with presumably-tasty purple goo.
Its forefeet hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. It roared some more, but half-heartedly, like it was just trying to save face at this point.
My friend the Farsight had run out of seedpods, so I gave her some of mine. While our crewmates did their best threat displays, we pelted the dangerous beastie with fruit until it turned to lope in the other direction. I made sure to throw a few on the road near it, in case it felt like picking up a bite to eat on the way. It didn’t, but I did see a tongue lick out as it turned its back on us.
Belatedly, Kavlae and Eggskin skidded out of our ship with stun guns at the same time as a couple people from the other — was that a rocket launcher or a flare gun? — none of which turned out to be necessary.
“Take that and eat it!” crowed the Farsight.
“Yeah!” I agreed. “It’s probably delicious!”
“It probably is, actually,” she said as the congratulations started to pour in.
I picked up a seedpod I’d dropped and sniffed it. “Smells a bit like kumquat.”
Captain Sunlight, busy trying to coax the client out of his vehicle, yelled across the landing pad, “Don’t eat that until Eggskin runs it through the medscanner!”
“Aw, really?” I complained, perfectly in synch with my new friend.
“Yes really!” She shook her lizardy head. I couldn’t make out her muttering from here, but I could guess it was about omnivorous habits, self-preservation instincts, absurd treeclimbing species, or all of the above.
The Farsight said, “If these are safe, I’m taking some back with me.”
“Even if they’re not, the seeds would make good souvenirs,” I pointed out, pulling at the pod where it had separated. “Look how perfectly round they are.”
“Oh yeah, those are nice.”
Trrili stalked past with a haughty tilt to her antennae. “You two get along far too well.”
“Like two seeds in a pod!” the Farsight quipped.
That made me smile. “Hey, my people say that too!”
We had plenty to talk about while everybody else handled the actual delivery we were there for. Eventually Eggskin did check the thing with a medscanner. It tasted like sour kumquat. The seeds cleaned up nicely.
And most importantly, my new friend had family with a whole enclave at the next space station my ship was planning to visit. And they had a climbing structure three stories high. I couldn’t wait.
The rest of the crew thought that sounded pointless and dangerous, of course, but none of them had ancestors who danced through the tree branches, so clearly they have no taste.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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Fishing, Grian thinks, is possibly the best way to get a mending book.
Best way to get anything, really. Is it a bit inefficient? Does it take a while? Yes! That's what drives him crazy. But it's also what makes it worth it.
He could trade with villagers, sure, but where's the satisfaction in that? It's just instant gratification, that is. When it's him and the sea, sitting on his dock and smelling the salty air and listening to the water and the waves and the whispers, that's real happiness. Carving enchants into a fishing rod, something peaceful and soothing, instead of armor or weapons.
It's a give and take with the ocean, like the tides almost. He gives his time and his dedication and the sea gives him something in return. Sometimes he gives more. Once he gave a mending book to the sea just in case. A worthy offering. When the book sank he felt contentment on the breeze. So maybe it worked. You wouldn't know it for the lack of mending he's caught.
Maybe it's less about the mending and more the experience. Getting in touch with the sea. Feeling its wild moods on the salt on his tongue or the water soaking into his boots. Staring at the fish as they stare up at him. Feeling bits of kelp and sea grass tug at his legs. It's nice in a weird way. You give your time and love to something and it gives something in return.
Gem gets it, Gem's a smart one. She's building her whole base around the sea, and sometimes Grian spots her at night in her lighthouse just staring out at the open ocean. The sea loves her too. When she surfaces after exiting her boat or her storage room, she's smiling. And if he spots her he smiles back, and they both get it.
The others don't. The others think Grian's just gone crazy and maybe he has sort of, but that's also not really it. Sometimes he doesn't want to catch a mending book because it's his excuse to be with the sea and he loves the sea. What'll he do when he gets it? Gem is lucky, she doesn't need any excuses. That's probably why no one thinks she's gone crazy even though there's giant flying fish around her lighthouse and a strange darkness in her eyes sometimes.
Sometimes Grian puts his hand into the water and he feels the slightest movement against his fingers and he smiles.
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ganondoodle · 5 months
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Sonia redesign + Zelda (ancient)
she is the one to seal ganondorf in an intentionally cruel way to take revenge for him killing rauru
she also had a daughter from a previous marriage that she named Zelda after an ancient legend from long forgotten times; while she technically had both time and light powers, she could only take ahold of one (struggeling to grasp a certain power you are pressured to awaken reference ;) ) which is time, it was not the one she was supposed to manifest as her status was always associated with light, in her younger years she was often looked down upon but despite that later proved to be a capable leader
shortly after her first marriage was ended rauru and the rest of the remaining sonau (engl zonai) came from the underground to warn the folks living on the surface from a great evil that was told about in ancient texts they had found while mining desperately for the stones they had grown reliant on for survival
this warning later evolves into the plan to seal ganondorf away before he could even become a threat, through all those discussion and planning sonia and rauru grew closer and eventually married; the plan was to be executed in secret to give ganondorf no time to even consider to reveal what demon they believed he really was, but the secret got out and ganondorf enacted a counterattack in the form of stealing one of the enigma stones in order to put pressure on the hyrulian kingdom, but he gets betrayed by the gerudo that will be their sage in the last confrontation, however in the time that the gerudo sage takes to warn sonia and mobilize to save rauru ganondorf has already confronted him and though he did not plan to kill him he does so, more on accident really, as rauru did not listen to a single word he said but instead acted erratic like a helpless man trapped in a cage with a hungry bear, essentially starting a fight of life and death
when sonia arrives at the scene it is already to late; thanks to the enigma stone ganondorf can escape her grief-striken rage but sonia is out for revenge and sees him killing rauru as proof of the warnings of old, she wages war and at the end seals ganondorf in a cruel cage between life and death, even at the cost of her own life
her daughter, having witnessed it all, grows up bitter and determined to make hyrule a kingdom that will never fall again
(totk rewritten project)
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aprill-99 · 6 months
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Rhys: “So let’s see if I’ve got this; you have immense shadow power, incredible combat skills, height, tattoos, secrets, dead parents, a thirst for vengeance, the weight of the world on your shoulders, a rebellion to lead, and a dragon?”
Xaden: “Yeah? I mean, there’s also my girlfriend who I’m completely in love with and 107 people under my protection but-”
Rhys: *frantically flipping through papers* “this is the hyper-intelligent girlfriend with unprecedented lightning powers? The one you speak to with your mind and call a nickname permanently?”
Xaden: “I do only have the one girlfriend. Kinda offended you’d think otherwise.”
Rhys: *signs a paper* “Adopted. The rebellion thing is handled. Me and your aunts and uncles have got this. Your new mom is going to need some time to add you and your mate to the family portrait gallery. Your bedroom is upstairs, knives are in the training ring, family dinner is every Thursday, your allowance is infinity and your curfew is never.”
Xaden: “I am…. Older than your wife?”
Rhys: “Did I fucking stutter?”
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carionto · 3 months
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Just. One. More. Episode.
Alien: Hmm, I haven't seen Human in a while.
Alien 2: That is worrying, you know to never leave your Human out of sight for too long. That's how you get the Ant World they tried to hide.
A: Hmm, but it's also not a good idea to pry into their privacy too much.
A2: True. What were they last doing?
A: Carrying several boxes of flavored nutrient packs into their apartment.
A2: Did they mention anything about a specific subject that had not come up much at all before?
A: Hmm, they did recommend I check out a documentary series about true crime. I did, but couldn't finish. It went into disturbing details.
A2: Oh no. Now, this is important - did they say the word marathon before you last saw them?
A: Hmm, I think so, yes.
A2: How many boxes? And how long ago since they brought them in?
A: Hmm, eight and three days ago.
A2: Your Human will appear in about thirteen days.
A: Ah, I think I understand now, but they're alone, shouldn't a standard nutrient box last about 5 days per Human?
A2: When on a regular schedule, yes, roughly. Your Human is intently watching countless hours of these documentaries and are likely unaware of their rate of consumption due to being emotionally engaged with the subject matter.
A: That is... disturbing. Should we intervene?
A2: No, it's a phase. If we take them away from their current subject of passion, it will become more entrenched, potentially. Best to let them run out of nutrients and force themselves to leave that environment. Then we can persuade them to return to normalcy, given they will be more accepting of the idea due to leaving that situation of their own will.
A: And if they are not persuadable?
A2: Then we get another Human to metaphorically "bonk" them back to their senses. Although on some Humans a literal bonking works too. It's very circumstantial.
A: Hmm...
A2: Although there is also the risk of the other Human becoming convinced to join them instead on further diving into the subject matter. There does appear to be an endless supply of these true crime shows on the Human extranet.
A: That is... not reassuring in any way.
A2: Well, that's Humans for you.
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infamous-if · 1 year
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.1
As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao
“Have any of you seen Seven?”
That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good. 
That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.
It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd. 
Or not. 
The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs. 
You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.
You’re growing frustrated.
With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you. 
“Hey, MC!” 
You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.
Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.
“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”
The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.
Until your phone buzzes. 
You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.
Seven: Roof
You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.
You: Thought you died.
Another buzz.
Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.
You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text. 
You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.
Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy
Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?
What do you call that?
You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming. 
Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.
Another buzz. 
Seven: Bring some bears please
You: Bears? 
Seven: Beers. Whatever. 
Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.
Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone. 
You: Where am I going?
Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.
Seven: lol
You: I will kill you.
Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me
You: Seven Lawless
Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof. 
You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers. 
You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’
Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion
Seven: (trust me) 
Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone. 
“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.
Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin. 
Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack. 
“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."
Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”
Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.” 
You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off. 
"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."
Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”
You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”
Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”
“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”
Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little. 
“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.
They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”
You nudge them. “Say it.” 
They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”
Oh.
You expected many things, but not that. 
Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!
Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”
You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.
“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.” 
Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“
“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”
Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say. 
They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”
You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of. 
You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you. 
And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to. 
“I’m not lonely with you, though.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”
Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment. 
You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”
“What!”
“Too much attention.”
“You’re a performer?!”
They raise a finger. “That’s different.” 
“Oh, please—“
Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.
You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.
“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”
You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.
Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.
So…different. 
“I don’t think I should.”
That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous. 
They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”
“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.
They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”
You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.
Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”
“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”
You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“ 
Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.” 
“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin. 
“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”
You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”
Silence.
Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”
“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words. 
It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.” 
You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids. 
But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway. 
“Then don’t use words.” 
Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them. 
Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it. 
Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.
Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.
What is happening...?
Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck. 
Messy seems about right.
Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.
Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.
You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.
They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss. 
Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.
"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.
"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.
Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."
You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.
The horrible, awkward silence.
See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.
“Uh…”
“Er…”
They slowly drop their hand from your neck. 
And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass. 
“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”
“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”
“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”
It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”
“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.
“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”
Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.
Until both of you do.
“That—“
“We—“
Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness. 
Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny. 
“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”
Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”
Your eyes widen. “I—“
“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you. 
You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”
“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.
You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”
“Seven.”
Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.” 
You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?
“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'
You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.
It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.
By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”
Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder. 
Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.
The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear. 
“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.
“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”
“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.
You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.
“You okay?” 
Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”
“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”
“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”
You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.
You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.
“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab. 
“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.
“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”
“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.
Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.
Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.
And that thought comforts you.
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flimsy-spine · 4 months
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my favorite madney scenes: [4/?] ⇢ Buck, Actually, 2.08
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robinfollies · 1 month
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and we believed ourselves when we said we’d never be alone again 🌼🌈💖
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cursedzucchini · 1 year
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Prompt/idea #6
Y'all what if when Danny's not feeling that good (is very injured/didn't eat anything/sleep deprived) he instead of fainting just... Turns into his 14 yo self.
That wasn't such a problem at the begginjng bc he was short king and well, he didn't change that much.
But now? When he's in college (basically always on the verge of fainting from exhaustion/hunger/dehydration/whatever unholy thing he consumed to stay awake and functioning) in Gotham? When he's 24, and yeah, maybe he didn't grow that much in height, but he lost the baby fat. His face didn't look so hopeful, and innocent and he gained quite few scars.
So yeah, changing into his 14yo self wasn't the greatest by itself. But add the trauma Danny has when looking at himself in the mirror, and overall being in the wrong body (thinking about what younger him didn't know, like u can add angst Abt canon stuff, like Vlad was a fucking creep, pariah dark, or add vivisection and Dani dying or whatever).
So Danny was being extra careful about taking care of himself (he thought, like a liar). And maybe that day he forgot breakfast, lost his pocket money, his card declined, he couldn't sleep because of reccuring nightmares and the only edible (that's questionable tho) thing in his bag was some somehow wrong ectoplasm he stole from some guy few weeks ago (and Danny needed to ask the him where tf did he manage to find such a disgusting ecto. Like not even his parents manage to fuck it up that badly).
So when on his way home, some fucking asshole jumped him, of course he was going to freak the fuck out.
...if knocking the guy out counts as freaking out. And showing some of his more ghostly features out (read show the asshole the indescribable horrors of balancing life and death for eternity and no time at all).
And that somehow tipped Danny over the top. So now he's sitting there, in his now way too big clothes next to the knocked out (hopefully) clown, drawing dumb pictures on his face, waiting for Jazz to pick him up and maybe help him dispose of the body.
(bonus points if the batfam saw this go down and are now so fucking confused how tf did some twink™ knocked out the fucking joker in one punch, and than transformed into a fuckibg child????? B, no, put the adoption papers down-!)
(bonus bonus points if 14 yo Danny looks exactly like 14yo Jason, and they (especially Jason) just see young Jason sitting next to dead? Joker w a crowbar, drawing dicks on his face)
(also the reason why Danny doesn't know who joker is, is bc every time someone started talking Abt joker or the clown he assumed he was something like batman, and wasn't interested in learning anything Abt anything clown themed)
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whaliiwatching · 8 months
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a taste of hannibal, a touch of megamind, a shot of venom (pours the whole damn bottle)
i love venom (2018) a lot, it’s my go-to movie when i’m bored or sad, i have seen it many many times. i saw it again a week or so ago with a bud and finally had the opportunity to pen down this lovely au i’ve been thinkin bout
i’ve got a much more fleshed out sketch of how this au plays out. not sure if i’ll write it yet
anyway some bullet points
noir (called, ofc, noir) arrives on earth-138 in the 1920s. his first host is robbie and they basically go through the venom movie, where noir slowly learns to love earth and humanity and all that jazz. up until the 50s or so they’re an investigative reporter and occasionally a scary vigilante superhero!
when robbie is killed (not ewaf style. i forbid it), it fucking devastates noir and he host-hops for a bit, doing fun anarchy things to keep up robbie’s legacy but also losing a few morals here and there. he can do a little murder and eat nazis as a treat
the symbiotes arrive en masse and osborn infects humans with them to turn into his fascist riot police army
through vampire-hunting-esque shenanigans, hobie and noir meet, and strike up a tenuous truce to fight the government. hobie does not like him at first, but noir very much does ;)
cue a slow burn gothic romance between a freedom fighter and a devoted monster <3
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marlynnofmany · 22 days
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It’s back!
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If you missed it the first time around, the “human are weird” anthology is back for a second printing. (There’s even a new story included: “Black Box” by Dara Brophy.)
Here’s the blurb:
In science fiction, humans are usually boring compared to other races: small, weak, with no claws or tentacles, and no special abilities to speak of. But what if we were the impressive ones, the unsettling ones, the ones talked about by all the other aliens? What if we're weird?
If you’d like a collection of excellent stories about humans inspiring awe, fear, and utter confusion, it’s available everywhere books are sold!
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