#lordfruitloop

A deep ache had settled into his bones, every muscle stiff and sore as he lay in the hospital bed, the sheets tucked too tightly around him. His eyelids felt heavy, barely open, and his vision blurred under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights above. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours, but now his mind refused to let him slip back into sleep. Everything hurt.

Where am I? He shifted under the covers, his vision slowly adjusting. The steady, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor filled the room, its sound grating on his nerves. He turned his head to glare at the screen—it was too loud.

No, what was loud was the ringing in his ears—the deafening blast of—

A sharp gasp tore from his throat as his entire body tensed. Instinctively, he tried to sit up but was met with a surge of pain, forcing a pained hiss from his lips. His trembling body collapsed back onto the mattress, every nerve screaming.

The Nasty Burger. His parents. Jazz. Sam. Tucker. Mr. Lancer, too?

@fruity-hub-blog / @lordfruitloop 

“I originally came here to kill you.

HOWEVER,

@lordfruitloop

Noises slowly started to register to the half ghost as he drifted towards consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that his head hurt. Why did his head hurt so much? Next was that there was something on his hand… wait that was someone else’s hand. He cracked his eyes open, trying to keep most of the harsh light out as he turned to see who was next to him.

“Maggie?” His voice was rough from disuse. “What…?”

How did he end up in the hospital? How long had he been out?

He reached out to Plas but didn’t get much more than a half awake “I’m here”

What the hell happened?

The last several days had been stressful, to say the least. It had started with a panicked, tearful Max carrying on about an explosion in the lab, and how it was all his fault that papa was hurt. Unsure of how it had happened and how extensively Vlad was hurt, she had no choice but to bring him to the hospital. When he didn’t wake up, she couldn’t continue his care at home either.

Aside from the one time Scar offered to sit with him so that she could go home and shower, Maggie had sat vigilant at Vlad’s bedside, and it showed. Hair tied up in a haphazard bun, loose locks hanging all around her face, she looked up from her book with tired eyes.

So... the dm is clockwork right?

I mean basically

Send me a quote from my character’s canon and they will share EXACTLY what went through their minds when they said it, and how they currently feel about it. 

“‘He’s back to his own time. But to them it’d be forwards to his own time since he’s from their future. Would they understand forwards?’ It sounded like the set up to a joke.” And even now, that particular line seemed funny to him, as it made him smile.

Put a word in my ask and I will write a Headcanon about it for my Muse.

Nocturne could wax poetic about Time for literal ages. And occasionally dabbles in doing so, especially when he cares for a certain someone.

There’s just something poignant about the concept of chronicling all of existence into measurable increments and definable Moments, linking them together one after the other and building stories out of universes. It’d almost be folly, because there’s so Much, except that Time is so very pervasively important to any attempt to make Meaning out of existence that language actively fumbles without it. 

Yes I do that’s why I’m gonna be a cryptid.

ㅤ-` 👻 ´- 【 His talk with Plas the other day had the young halfa asking  a lot  of internal questions to himself, regarding his father —his other father that is— about their lives as  half-ghosts. The younger one had been distant, mainly from depression, but also self-reflection, guilt and shame, and trying to sort out...really what he wants—in life, in a career;  what does  HE  want  in order  to be happy ?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd now here he stood, wondering,  WHAT  would make his father  ... happy ?