AnasAbdin
Cosmic Funnies
d e v o n
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Acquired Stardust
almost home
RMH
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Peter Solarz
🪼
DEAR READER
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
ojovivo
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
art blog(derogatory)
roma★
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
dirt enthusiast
No title available
seen from Bulgaria
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seen from Canada
seen from Denmark
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
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@trvshdad
“whats the saying? one is an accident, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern. does that count for the near-death-experiences roster?”
“it was just a scratch -- i won’t die. ” baird mumbles under his breath as he washes the wound. it wasn’t bleeding TOO MUCH. ( and thankfully no vampires were around otherwise... one bleeding fairy and a vampire? yeah.. that didn’t sound like a good thing for him. ) “never get into bar fights, kid. they might swing MIC STANDS at you.”
THE SHELTERS WERE MEANT TO KEEP THEM SAFE FROM THE STORM. from the cold. but there may as well be ice creeping across the walls with how the temperature had dropped. it had been a steady decline, and in it war had watched the conflict break out amongst the other occupants of dante’s. perhaps he had been a slight instigator- a few whispered words. a few pointed fingers. war settles against the body to his right and watches purely content as a fist fight breaks out. resources were sparse, and with the loss of his shirt every muscle was drawn tight in an effort not to shake from the force of the cold. they’re blanketed at least, by a two or three coats, all of which he’d stolen from various people around dante’s. ( they didn’t know it was him of course. a perk of being him; a twist of the ring and the two of them were absolved of all suspicion ) the horseman sighs, and passes a bottle of whiskey to the other. “ DRINK , it’ll help . “ he pauses then. “ it must be your LUCKY DAY i usually expect dinner before CANOODLING half naked. “ a joke of course - he’s hoping the other will lighten up. look a little less like a startled deer. if he doesn’t change his expression, with this temperature- it might just freeze that way. @trvshdad
BAIRD WAS SHAKING. if someone asked him, he’d say the cold. he wasn’t sure though. he was having a fine time up ‘til the moment he encountered his pseudo son in law-- KING OF HELL??? when did the dude get promoted or whatever? he thought the king was satan. unless-- he was satan. uh... baird is TOO into his head trying to shake off the cold, and the series of screams and images out of his head, that he doesn’t notice the gorgeous half-naked man near him, up until the bottle is extended in his direction and he speaks. a not so eloquent “HUH?” is drawn out of his lips, but even if the words weren’t well registered, baird still takes the bottle and brings it to his lips. the burn of the alcohol invading his tongue and throat as it rolls down. it’s almost like a slap to the face-- a much-needed one. and only then does he crack a short grin. “i’m A DECENT cook.” he clears his throat and takes another drink before he passes it to the other man, “thanks.” he scratches the side of his face, “how long have i’ve been here?” sitting there, looking like even more of a fool is what he means.
being the new king of hell has its perks — the new title comes with a grab-bag of tricks he’s happy to employ. a swish of his hand sees everyone around them drop, sleep visiting them like sleeping beauty herself as he keeps baird from making his escape. he’s been watching him for months, like any resourceful person would his enemies, and while he’s been considering what punishment would fit the crime … there’s no denying an opportunity when it, quite literally, stumbles into your lap. “ oh i think your fish will do just fine on its own. ” another wave of his hand sees the man’s body go limp, completely unable to support itself without his manipulation. A PUPPET WITH STRINGS ONLY HE CAN OPERATE. “ the same can’t be said for you, i’m afraid. ” a click of his tongue against his teeth, smile turning macabre as he turns to leave the room — dragging baird along with him. “ come on. i’ll give you the GRAND TOUR. it’s not my club, mind you, but there’s something in the basement i think you’ll L O V E. ” a pause, as if he’s considering. “ CALL IT A SNEAK PEAK. ”
was he expecting this demon to let him go? a bit of WISHFUL THINKING couldn’t hurt -- but as he felt his feet sink to the ground and his knees buckle under his weight as if he was some kind of jello. he couldn’t help but feel panic SETTLE IN. “what--” he managed to babble out in a gruff tone. his throat constricting in fear. he was trapped in plain sight, no one to help as they were unconscious on the floor. baird felt COLD and he wasn’t sure if it was the snow outside or the fact his future-- and actions -- now were in this guy’s hands. “what are you doing?” he completed. his feet moved on their own accord, it felt as if someone had made a PUPPET out of him and he could do nothing more but comply. no matter how much he tried to turn around and run the other way, no matter how much he wanted to SCREAM FOR HELP. his limbs were dragged along with him. as he went lower, as the second ticked. baird could feel his heart pound against his chest, his vocal cords tangled together, his blood frozen. even more so, as he started seeing DOORS and pounding against them. SCREAMS begging for help, filled with pain, and fear.
CHRIS HEMSWORTH ph. by Matthew Brookes for GQ Australia (2020)
“ when i think safe haven, dante’s isn’t the place i’d decide on, but who am i to argue with the public safety authorities ? ” personally he’s amused, sitting in one of the plushy chairs surrounding a round table with his combat boots propped atop it. if he’s wearing a plastic tiara, it’s only because he stole it from a scatterbrained groom-to-be somewhere else in the club. ( he finds irony in the simple things. like a plastic crown for a king, or the entrance to hell being a sanctuary. seriously, you can’t make these things up. ) “ bit of an overreaction for a little snow. it’s not like there are any shark infested tornados out there. ” though that, admittedly, would amuse him greatly. THERE’S NOTHING LIKE A LITTLE MAIMING TO BRIGHTEN UP ONE’S DAY.
did baird intend to get stranded in a club of all places? HE DID NOT. oh, but he was thanking all the fairy gods up there to have him get stuck in a fun place. alcohol? check. fun people? check. his son’s boyfriend he accidentally killed a few months ago? check. RECORD SCRATCH. the dude was alive! all this time, he’d worried over having to tell aster he’d killed his boyfriend. but he wasn’t dead. --HOLD ON. the dude was alive. oh no. “.....UHH.” baird was never the most eloquent of men, but right this moment. he truly was at a loss of words. how you act when the very bad, very evil boyfriend, who you killed shows up? suddenly, he wasn’t thanking anyone anymore. “i have to go wash my fish.”
“ t h a n k y o u for this.” sage said, head nodding to the stack of boxes they had just carried in and the fact that the other was h e l p i n g her unload boxes for her new b o x i n g c e n t e r. “pizza, beer, what’s your poison?” she asked in relation to how she could repay them. @apxstarters
a heavy wave of his hand. “a few boxes are absolutely no match,” which was saying a lot about a man that probably would lose a fight against a revolving door. ( it only happened once, okay? ) his goal was to only help, and the go on his way-- but then she asked the magic question. “ooooh, how about both? tell you what, i shoot the beer and you the pizza.”
❛ No! I don’t think IT’S a good idea. ❜
“if i had a penny for every time i’ve heard that.” he... would probably be rich. yes, but at what cost? his ideas were clearly NEVER good. “bottoms up,” and the weird-looking drink was downed in an instant. “see? nothing happened.”
“hey!” it would have been funny, watching someone slip on ice like that— if there wasn’t such a CRACK when they hit the ground. keelin rushed to the side ( though she was careful not to slip on the ice herself ). “you okay?” she asked, kneeling at their side.
just WHERE did the ice come from? baird didn’t know a lot of things, but he was sure there shouldn’t be snow in san francisco. ( could places with beaches have snow? he didn’t think so. ) but there he was taking the fall and getting the wind knocked off his lungs. “I-- yeah.” he grunted and raised an arm to try and signal that he was fine. “wanted to say hi to the ground.”
esther runs a hand through her hair, it’s shorter than she’s used too, barely brushes her shoulders and she has mixed feelings about the fringe- but this face has elegant features and the style suits her nicely. ( v a n i t y ) she couldnt change it even if she wanted- supposed to assume this body’s identity which in hindsight doesn’t do well for someone trying to remain unseen. ( someone in politics ?? the universe is a joke ) it’s a bar- one of the nicer ones but still just under where her persona is meant to be; it’s drawing curious eyes and she doesn’t particularly mind. ( she’s meeting her children and adjusting to life again and she needs a drink. - more importantly she needs a drinking p a r t n e r ) head tilts in the direction of the closest person, eyes bright and expression almost amused. “ your next drink is on me- but only if you stop staring . “
@apxstarters
it’s a wonder how baird ended up in a bar as refined as this one. while some would consider he has the looks, he certainly doesn’t have the etiquette to be here. he’s definitely gotten some odd glances thrown in his direction as well some side comments. the thing about baird, is that he’s so used to his time in avalon he frankly seems to filter through them. there is a reason why he’s here-- he was seeking some help, and therefore got cited here by some man name... swords? rapiers? something sharp. he was nowhere to be seen though, so he indulged in some drinks here and there. and BUSTED. yes, he’d been staring at the woman here and there. she is gorgeous. he has eyes. “uh,” he grunts as he sets his glass of beer down on the bar, clears his throat. “yeah, yeah. sure, sorry.” a hand rubs at the back of his neck, and he offers a dumb smile. “come around here often?” he asks in his deep voice. he knows its a lame pick up line, but it won’t hurt anyone if he does know how ridiculous he sounds.
and THAT, was what people called a wipeout. aster was trying to learn ice skating, that way he could surprise v with a date to the rink (he was sure the other knew how to ice skate, don’t ask him how or why— he knew). but, all he seemed to be doing was wiping out.
AND DOWN WENT THE BOY. baird even grimaced at the sound of him sliding over the ice. “you almost got it,” lie-- but hey, it wasn’t that bad, was it? bending down, the man grabbed him by the shoulders and easily lifted him up to his feet. “you okay, there? nothing broken? good?” tap on his forehead. “trying, trying. is this thing on? aster, how many fingers am i holding up?”
she’s improving. making the whole ordeal cleaner. it helps that she can use her old apartment as a lair now. she was told her technique could use precision, practice. that’s what she spends her free time on now. as though practicing a sport. she’s not like aster ; she experiments with method, with nature, but her goal has always been speed. her newest task is finding how long it takes to kill by blood loss. once she had the answer ( trial and patience ), she starts her efforts to improve on the natural order of things. the call of her name distracts her, pulls her hands from blood stained pages. ( she makes notes, stashes them at her own house, in hopes to literally compare them one day. ) “ hi, dad. ” she offers him a smile, cheshire and characteristic of this face as she keeps her pen in hand. “ give me a second. ” she holds up one finger before she turns her head to her newest victim, uses the end of her pen to tip his chin up. he’s no longer conscious, blood staining the floor, and she calls it by the clock on the wall. ( three minutes and just under his neck, she used a bread knife. convenient. ) she makes the last notes, calm and collected, perfectly organised. her gaze drifts to the clock again as she scrawls everything down in the columns she’s made, “ i have to call it while they’re still warm. otherwise, i have to repeat the procedure. ” she sets the pen down finally, smiles wide over at him. she knows she should be more alarmed than she is, wonder what he’ll think of her. ( but she isn’t. she’s his daughter. blood is thicker than water to most. ) “ when did you get back in town? ”
his search for aidy is short. he doesn’t take his sweet time to cautiously step through the apartment, he won’t even slowly brace himself for impact. baird doesn’t want to expect the worst, and he’s not a doctor for that matter-- but THAT’S A LOT OF BLOOD. fairies weren’t as fragile as humans but that didn’t mean they could survive this much. his heart is heavily thumpering against his chest; what is he going to do? howis he going to tell aster? how can he pick up the phone after so long and tell daphne that their little girl is gone? baird regrets-- he has since the moment he left, he has since aidy showed up at his doorstep and he realized that what he did had been pointless. he hadn’t been a bad influence, him being gone didn’t change anything and what he tried to avoid from happening, happened anyway. he’d been trying to fix things, and they seemed to be doing JUST FINE. but he’d wasted so much time now. time he now wouldn’t be able to make up for. in a sucession of flashes, he remembers the bedtime stories, and the songs he’d write about her. the ones that never got turned into songs but that reminded him of the child he left. her laugh rings in his ear as a child, and later on as young woman. ( including the new face she wore. ) her smile was wider and it showed the happiness she felt, except as he turned and finally FOUND HER. that same smile was directed in his direction. there is such a things as being relieved and disgusted at the same time. IT’S NOT AIDY. SHE’S FINE. SHE’S FINE. except...... IT WAS AIDY. his stomach churns and he looks away for a moment, he might be sick. how do you react when you think your daughter could be dead, only to find out she actually caused someone else’s death? he visibly gags for a second as he covers his mouh, and feels his knees grow weak. ( this is probably worse than when he killed aster’s boyfriend. ) he contains the feeling in his stomach, but he can’t help himself from stumbling backwards, knocking over something in the process and sliding against the wall down to the floor. “procedure.” he mouths rather dumbly. aidy did this, she’s fine with it. “uh,” he runs a hand down his face, as if he’s trying to remember. get it together, silvermist. “i don’t-- i don’t know. three days ago?” or more, he honestly doesn’t know. especially not this moment. “how-- who-- wh” he doesn’t even know WHERE to start, so he just says what makes sense in the moment. “we’ll clean this up. we, yeah. it’s fine.” he nods to himself as if he’s assuring her, when to be fair she doesn’t need it as much as he does. “this is fine.”
baird MANAGES to not die, as always. what’s a little hectic life for a rock star? ( in his head he’s one, okay. ) there’s something lingering in his head, he remembers he has children-- he wants to grow closer to them as he’s noticed his mistakes, but doesn’t want to go overboard. he’s trying to wrap his head around aster dating a DEMON, and is growing used to aidy looking like someone else. SPEAKING OF-- he’s on a visit. a very spontaneous one. ( it’s typical of baird to drop unannounced, and it’s even easier to do it with aidy than with aster when he knows there won’t be a demon he tried to kill with his bare hands lingering around. ) though as he reaches the door and sees it half opened, he’s a bit confused. sure, aidy could be around and he might be her father but that wouldn’t give him a right to just walk in. so he knocks. on the already half open door... making it open wider. baird winces as that happens not wanting to seem intrusive, but the hairs on the back of his neck grow stiff as he sees BLOOD. “AIDY?” dumb move number one, some people would think. especially if this were a horror movie. he definitely alerted the killer. dumb number two would be to close the door behind him as he rushes in like a bulldozer looking everywhere for her. “AIDY!” @ollddsoul
@trvshdad
it got violent fast. believe it or not it wasn’t because she was bored or had time to kill. the guy was on something and boy was he sure something. she’s about to smash his face in with a fire extinguisher but SURPRISE! the canister floats away. “are you fucking kidding me?” she snaps and barely dodge’s the guy’s incoming fist now.
baird has absolutely NO IDEA how he got here. one moment he was finishing his small gig of the night and the next thing he found himself in the middle of a brawl, politely greeted by a PUNCH TO THE FACE. he naturally, fell to the ground though they didn’t give him time to stand up as he was pulled to his feet and his front slammed against a counter. “wait! WAIT!” he attempted to plead his case that HE WAS INNOCENT, GODAMMIT when he heard the click of a gun that he supposed was pointed in his direction. baird closed his eyes, but nothing happened--- DID IT? HOW WOULD HE KNOW IF HE WAS DEAD? he heard a couple of what the fucks and a woman’s voice. ( a woman that didn’t look like was with them. ) he opened his eyes to see the guns floating midair, an extinguisher floating away from said woman, among several kitchen utensils. “hah,” he nervously chuckled, because sometimes that happened. “so... the weather...”
3 + V, Aidy, Aster
“v as in that guy with the mask? i suppose i’d murder him. uhh........ fly through the sky with my daughter, and aster already hooked me with when fishing so why not get shot too?” ( @vurasisms -- @ollddsoul -- @ofsilverwings )
2 + danny devitto, tommy wiseau, chuck e cheese
“danny looks cuddle sized. i’d sleep with tommy so i can find out if he sleeps with those glasses on. marry chuck e cheese, FOOD FOR LIFE.”
Was it S E L F I S H if one version had pushed another into making the right call? Should men be judged on their defining actions? Questions that seemed so STRIFE and weaved into the very fabric of what made him who he was. He didn’t need forgiveness but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to earn it. “Hate to intrude on what one can only assume to be a riveting conversation,” a smile, as hollow as the soul that it sat upon and yet in the distance a heart could be heard beating. “But you seemed to have lost this.”
“THERE IT IS! i was wondering where i left it. ” as much as he seemed like it, he WASN’T drunk. it took a couple six’s on his own for him to get there. baird took the bottle opener for him with a prompted grin, before he opened an extra bottle. ( not that he needed it to open it-- there were several tricks up his sleeve. ) and handed it to the other. “cheers, buddy.”
“a proper burger king at your service,” he spoke, giving a slight bow with the paper burger king crown attached to his head.
at the sight of his son right there, baird promptly choked on his fries. a fit of coughs later before he plastered a smile on his face. it’s fine, this is fine. “HI.” nailed it, baird. it wasn’t like in between the time he last saw him and now he hadn’t just slightly beaten his boyfriend to death. or... the innocent one. “uh, how you doing?”
