𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓.

𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.

[burynot]

#𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐓 : a mutually exclusive and plot focused multi-muse made up of characters from various fandoms. all the way from the wild west, to supernatural horrors, mythology and more! some portrayals have been reworked or removed from their original sources. general content warnings apply, anything potentially triggering will be tagged. i will not follow anyone under the age of twenty-one. crossover and original characters welcome, knowledge of any fandom not required to interact. neither is specifying when sending prompts, and whatnot.

companions: frogcase, cuhster, redlands.

references: resident evil, dragon age, red dead redemption I and II, overwatch declassified, harbard studios' mariachi legends, wild hog's evil west, outlaws of thunder junction, dnd meta. links: carrd. main blog. secondary. oc info. donate to: palestine. sudan. haiti. congo. immigrant support.

[burynot]

@lumined’s john marston to abigail roberts : the hell are you doing with a gun?

such a peaceful life they were to live; weeks of travel, hidden away in deep corners of the world were long gone, taken by the wind. dusted farmland and the house that stood on top was supposed to be the final piece to life’s puzzle, a place to settle and stay without anything or anyone coming to bite at the ankles. abigail was never the naive sort; there always would be the unsteadying and unsaid. even with how much hope she held for normalcy, gunslinger of a man no more and her beautiful boy who loved to read. begging to learn how to shoot had paid off in some odd way, unknown horses flying off property and john soon riding on in, in their place. hairs bristled, she couldn’t be too sure.

" i’m doin’ what anyone else woulda done! " she huffed with a clamber down porch steps, rifle cradled in her arms. she waited for both of his feet to touch the ground, before shoving it his way, wanting to get rid of the thing more than keep it to her. " took you long enough, i- some folk we don’t know rode in like they owned the place. " her throat was tight, boiled over anger more than anything at the risk of their property. the irony of hope in its name. she steadied, grabbing at his shoulders. " shooed ‘em off, told ‘em you were in the barn. you ain’t in anymore trouble or anything, are you, john marston? "

[burynot]

@wrathbit's peter parker to cole cassidy : are those real?

sun hung high, bright in its midday stead and hot enough to bead sweat; but this weren’t no desert. endless miles of dirt were replaced by buildings of astonishing size, cars bumper to bumper, streets busier than any old small town. it weren’t like he’d never seen a city before, too many to count, in fact. reminders of mere preference sat around almost every corner, was all. cards were cards; at least he was doing something right with them, unlike the old days; where victory often came with heavy price of reckless violence. head upturned at the question, eyes skyward and to filter out harsh rays. sure enough, featherless birds of minimal size, red lights tracked their every move.

" ‘fraid so. " somewhat muddled from between his teeth, gloved hand raised against his brow bones to see further. not for long, before the drop of his hand and a wary few steps back. mindless act, a swipe of his fingers against his belt to ensure trusted peacekeeper remained. not that he'd like to use it now. " 'say we turn tail before this gets t'be more trouble than it's worth. " finally did he glance towards his perched company, staring into endless white. " 'less you got a better idea? "

[burynot]

@wizzos's helen parr to vivian chase : i'm just in the middle of a big news day here.

whir of the dropship continued to resonate behind her, hovering high before finally making distance and leaving her ears to domestic quiet of a neighborhood. it reminded her of back home; pieces of life carved into the streets, from home to home. never without ever looming threats, of course, a reminder that made her shoulders heavy. nevertheless did she knock onto front door with a purpose, a particular rhythm unique to her. an equally familiar face appeared on the other side, and behind readied shoulders was the chaos only a full family could earn. the recognition brought relief to vivian’s face in a way, observing even some things hadn’t changed against all of the odds.

chase wanted to ask of her own timing, if it happened to be inconvenient. an offer to return was bid with the nod of her head, though waived by helen’s statement. again, relief, perhaps a smile. settings, people she knew were always the comforting sort.

" i see ... looks like you’ve got your hands full back there. " household murmur, the kind she and murphy could never match up to, it kept her wondering. watchpoint was plenty enough; the agents stirring up enough commotion as it was. " i was hoping to my timing would be better, that seems hard to come by lately. " chest expanded with a deep breath, her other hand finally held up an untouched cup of coffee, still warm in her grasp. " alright if i come in? "

[burynot]

@dawnmantle's nancy drew to sherlock holmes : there must be a radio or a working phone inside.

the air lay thick with salt, heady earth pushed up by unsatisfied waves that thrashed unkind against mounted rocks. gone were calmed waters that pleasantly surrounded towering lighthouse, in their place, something disturbed and bound to coax hairs to stand on their ends. even holmes couldn’t bring himself to truly look out onto the horizon; passing storm resembling the very churn his middle. but, they must do what they came for. uncover whatever darkness that had made itself a home, should ships be able to pass safely and keepers remain stable.

lock pick twirled rusted self between anxious fingers, miss drew’s optimistic suggestion earned a nod in agreement. it was hard to hear over the roaring tide, thus the quicker they got inside the better.

" hopefully along with it- records, notes, anything that can tell us about previous keepers. " mused on his approach, a slight overhang above the door briefly spared them from the downpour. body bent forward slightly in order to situate said pick, his eyes assessing the lock and it’s type. " and why more than one has gone missing, why passing ships have been misguided. " he needn’t truly explain their reasoning, she knew just as much as he did. reciting kept the gears turning, the stepping stones of his imagination dusted clean. the door pushed open with a heavy groan, sherlock held it open. " alright, out of the cold. "

[burynot]

hi :)

hi wolvie! ❤️

[orivu]

youve died a thousand times before who caaares just climb out of this grave again & again &agaian & agaian & again & again & aga

[burynot]

love is so very important to a man who insists so heavily upon it’s insignificance.

[burynot]

@nightbins to sherlock holmes : kissing your lover in a moment of sheer joy.

the rabbit hole of mystery; a twisted and complex matter that could lead a man to his folly, were he not careful. sherlock holmes however, was the usual fox, perfectly capable of navigating narrow and unpredictable burrows without any trouble. it wasn't always successful, for dirt walls began to cave the longer he spent with his nose to the ground, rendering him incapable of perceiving the world around him. a rather dangerous matter, though adjacent minds and those familiar with the detectives habits could turn his chin. so had his companion, after piecing together the overlooked over firelight. nothing on the earth made holmes happier than his loved ones displaying their capabilitiess.

" oh, brilliant. " sighed out with hastily discarded cigar, every ounce of tension leaving lengthy frame without any true time to process. he didn't need to, his ability to share his space and all that came with it had prospered. " excellent job, no wonder why i overlook so much without your presence. " a few eager steps, boots heavy over hardwood, he reached to cup both cheeks. one motion, smooth and easy did he pull the other in. it was like he had been familiar with affection all his life; gratitude shaping his mouth. " you are so beautifully brilliant. i'll have to make it up to you later. " another step now, he aimed for his coat. " come, let's go. "

[burynot]

@ob1tchuary's angela ziegler to shimada genji : a kiss while slow dancing close and intimately.

there was once a time where overwatch's formal events topped up an already dangerously full cup, dread pouring over the lip into an unsettling pool. where the body bared by mechanical heels only knew how to move destructively, as a tactical machine perfected for execution. a long time ago now, several changes ago. his hands, comfortable with a weapon, one now laced with hers and the other held polite at her lower back. venue's lighting painted over her features, genji found himself lost in the golden hue, reminiscent of sunset. he pressed his forehead to hers, slight difference in height bending him forward only a fraction. nose to nose, before he closed the distance.

it was firm, gently so; he'd gotten better at it over time. awareness kept them in time with the music, bodies drifting along a pleasant tune. " i enjoy seeing you in this way. not surrounded by paperwork- a reasonable time of night. " he managed a smile at his own jest, despite it was he who stayed up alongside her. cool metal gently cupped her cheek, finger joints curling slow. " hopefully you don't mind my dancing. " eyes glittered, his expression shifted while he bid her another jab. " it is a good thing i am unable to feel you stepping on my feet, doctor. "

[burynot]

@ob1tchuary's angela ziegler ♡'d for genji.

he knew her schedule the way he knew his own, far off from the acceptable clock and extending well beyond sunset. even after so much time, it would seem familiar surroundings settled aged routines like scarred over wounds. visible, there to stay no matter what. a shadow in her office door, genji appeared unlike the way he usually would; this time more upfront. with the lift of her head, prosthetic finger lifted before synthetic lips, indicating a shushing motion. then, a coaxing wave to follow after him.

[burynot]

@cyberacme's tekhartha zenyatta ♡'d for genji.

like him to become a shadow. or the very breeze that carried through dim nights, no trace left behind despite it’s coverage, swiftness. to return to the monastery felt more like belonging than expertly maintained castle courtyard of gravel and statues. to come home meant unchanged habits, attempts at concealment even behind the sole teacher of his mind’s contentment. the sparrow never lasted, though he sure did try, frame slumping like falling feathers the moment he was realized. " damn. "

[burynot]

@rubyquarts ♡'d for genji.

" your leadership is admirable. " born anew: scars of decades old stretched over calmed features, having healed in raised lines of consistent length. he had yet to remove himself from higher leverage, frame folded expertly on small perch. while his expression hardly changed, synthetic pupils swallowed greyed irises. he saw something he hadn't seen in years, obvious by his next statement. " not everyone is given that chance. "

[burynot]

❤️ for genji. :)

[burynot]

your anger made you stronger or something.

[burynot]

indiana.

" yes, professor, deductions do come fairly easy to me, thank you very much for noticing. " he muttered in response, a playful matter as he turned his body away from the scene, attention immediately reeled in by full bookshelves. looking for something, always looking for something. he heard the other approach, lending his own hand with a swift, firm shake before returning to browsing. so remained the distracted, determined nature, though he still listened. sherlock managed his own rumble, it sounded more on the contrary as fingers swept themselves over literature spines.

" across the pond, yes ... if i were a duck, i would perish under the weight of solitude. " again, his words passed brief through barely parted lips, decisive hand plucked a title he'd been looking for. eyes flickered rapid through flipped pages and his steps carried him past his companion, minding the floor. " so, every once in awhile, i must return to my flock. needless to say; i require your assistance. " he hadn't looked up, wandering through what remaining sunlight was able to pass through the windows. " i'll spare you the details, should you happen to disagree. " no sense in giving away the fun part to an unwilling participant. his steps had deliberately slowed, they were heavier now as though the detective was stalling. " though, i couldn't imagine why. if you do not, however, we leave by morning. "

[burynot]

arin.

a gala! great fun that would be; provided everyone remain on their best behavior. the downstairs lobby and dining areas had been transformed into a beautiful display, perfect for celebratory matters. and the doorman- reluctantly did he relinquish his uniform for something more theme-appropriate. head of ginger curls was no longer trapped by strapped cap, now cascading over his forehead, which lead to a rather uncertain expression. he never did figure out how to tie, well, a tie. it seemed the eldritch being of mist and space matter still had a lengthy way to go when fashion was concerned.

" mhm. " he hummed observantly, chip tipped up slightly to eye himself in the mirror over the back of arin's head, so out of place, the god looked similarly to his first arrival. great trial and error of disguises, piecing together what he understood of mankind to shape his new being, but not quite narrowing it down. " i'll admit, it's not my preferred accessory, but it will have to do should this event go smoothly. " more of a murmur, he was not warm to arin's touch, posture remaining stiff as if still at his post. he did look down, his hand now bare lifting to push rogue strands away from the shorter's eyes, his own bright. " i should thank you, you've been a great help. "