#/ a meanie for no reason

[tiredyke]

every time queer discourse surges on this site everyone is so quick to jump to “it was actually the evil lesbians who divided us” because y’all heard the term “political lesbian” and never bothered to figure out what that meant

[evermoredeluxe]

Lana showing up in a ivory colored floor length gown for this same wedding and fans want to criticize Taylor. Nope not today.

extreme weird criticism with no context or information and absolutely zero grace is mostly reserved for taylor 🙃

[poorlymadesockpuppet]

"Whatever it is you two have, I wanna see it cured!"

[soaps-mohawk]

Hey! I love your story so so much and I always look forward to new chapters!

I do have a question though. Is the whole General Shepard cameras thing still is part of the story? I feel like the buildup was so good and then it just disappeared and became unimportant. Like if the guys never find out about it, it's whatever.

I dont mean this as an insult to your writing at all, but I'm just wondering if it's gonna come back at all since it's been so long since it's been thought about by the mc.

Again, I love your work

You'll have to wait and see

[windydrawallday]

I'd absolutely love to see your take on ES Optimus in any sort of capacity! He's my special guy :] But if you want something more familiar, maybe TFA Prowl chillin in some nature? If I could throw something more specific at you, interacting with some wolves? (Not sure how comfortable you are with animals but figured it's worth a shot 🐺)

AT LAST!!! I managed to draw your request after busy days and playing around with your last idea because GOSH: Prowl + Animals always win me over x'D

Tho... I took a... not very "chill" route that ended... in me drawing another thing that I know many despite about the canon of the character--

Yeah IM SO SORRY but I couldn't find a way to make it work without it orz (and I dont have currently the brain to design an alternative human design hxgcxhgvcgv) and welp :')

Hope is nice enough to the eyes anyways haha I wanted to try something different and challenge myself because-- Because AAA

[prittiswaggy-co]

Why does she have her parents brains in a jar🤨

Incase she wants a snack/j

[cluescorner]

Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:

Steph (25):

Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)

Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)

Her worst trait really is her spitefulness

Cass (26)

Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.) 

Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness. 

Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)

Tim (24)

Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)

Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)

His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)

Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)

Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this). 

Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)

His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)

Dick (17) 

Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)

Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)

His worst trait actually is his anger issues.

Barbara (18)

Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)  

Thinks her worst trait is her disability 

Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)

Damian (16)

Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)

Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism 

His worst trait actually is his perfectionism

Duke (16)

Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)

Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)

His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words

Jason (14)

Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne). 

Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)

His worst trait actually is his reactiveness

[c0rpseductor]

*sees popular tumblr user realizing they have DID and talking about how lame and bullshit community terminology sounds and how the whole community is full of dogma and mysticism* wow, did i used to sound like this? holy shit i kind of sucked! anyway bye *makes out with block button*

[in-my-stardew-era]

OKAY MEANIE DAMN- 👹

[fluffypotatey]

MK has a very skewed view on Wukong in this au- elaborate please

so, this is the evil!swk au and we're going with this version of lmk (what if swk never received the Buddha's punishment after he escaped the Furnace?), so MK only knows Wukong in the moments he's met him

to MK, Wukong is a grumpy old grandpa who is at the mercy of his monkey subjects (he is) and that he saved MK from Azure and Heaven's punishment. so to MK, Wukong is his savior. he is his hero and also a grumpy grandpa like Pigsy (who's a grumpy dad). MK knows how to handy grumpy grandpas/dads

[bobmckenzie]

hmmm. starting my randall fic (yayy🥳) and I might make my fl.atliners s/i just be a film-hobbyist instead of having her be in film school like i thought she'd be 🤔

[katsigian]

Also I'm going to say one thing: if someone chooses to listen to the words of a person with a proven track record of abuse and harassment over the character of a person who simply exists in the same space as them, then they may be more likely to join a cult

[cultofthepigeon]

trying to find good critique of the fallout show is impossible because most people will surround one (1) solid legit genuine criticism with 10 other "criticisms" that boil down to "i didnt understand the games and the show doesnt follow my canon"

[muzzlemouths]

does anyone have recs for fics centering around Sun/Moon's internal monologue and conflict for the duration of ruin prior to being rebooted — preferably ones where Moon isn't just portrayed as grumpy whiny mean and villainous w/o reason?

[moonlightandmarble]

Give Me The Night-Theatrical Release

When Sleep tires of Vessel and all seems lost, an even more ancient being is called to intercede...

(I haven't written anything like this in years so please be gentle and if you need something tagged please let me know. This is about the lore characters because RPF is weird and uh yeah idk pleaseenjoybye)

Vessel watched as Two scratched figures into the sand with a piece of driftwood that had washed ashore. He had been extra quiet as of late, and it had not gone unnoticed by the others. Here, in the pocket between worlds that existed outside of time and reality, it was all the more apparent. It was if he was waiting for something, and yet when questioned he replied he was fine. 

And for all other appearances he was, he was still constantly inhaling caffeine, still contributing to the Great Work, still occasionally slipping into old vernaculars from before he became the Second Vessel. They all tended to do that, all of the Vessels. They all came from different places in time, and as Sleep selected them throughout the eons they came together to make the Great Work. None would remember what they were before, but fragments of the past would reveal themselves as time went on. And lately, more of those fragments were coming forward, representing themselves in the addition of colors and cloth, flashes of individuality. And in some cases…the smallest sparks of rebellion.

  All of these things troubled him, all the more because he was seeing it in himself as well. Something was happening to all of them. And it did not help that Sleep had become more and more withdrawn from him. His Presence even in the First’s mind far less frequent. He both hated his absence and reveled in it. The loneliness could drive him to dash out onto the beach in despair, throwing himself into the waves and crying out for an answer that would never come. But the others, they were always there to pull him out, to pull him back from the brink and surround him. Their presence was less overwhelming, more gentle, and Vessel the First had grown to be so grateful for them. 

 So he found himself smiling as he watched the Second, not even realizing the Third had sat down next to him until a warm cup of tea had been placed into his hands,

“You’re doing that thing again”

  “What thing?”, he turned the teacup in his hands, watching the steam rise up and humming as he felt the heat sink into his skin.

“You’re doing some Deep Thinking. Drink your tea. You need it.”

He wanted to argue but the Third always spoke his mind, and most of the time he was insufferably right about things. So he sighed and sipped, “Thank you”

The Third crossed his long legs in front of him, leaning back on his elbows, “So no return call on the God Phone then?”

Vessel swallowed and grimaced. The tea was excellent, but the words planted a bitter pill that stuck in his throat, “No. He does not answer. Even after all the Rituals, after all we put into the Great Work-“, he stopped himself. He was being ungrateful, childish, dancing too close to heresy. He shouldn’t speak in such a way about the one who had done so much for them. Who had changed them, brought them up and remolded them from the dust they once were. 

He took another sip, “I’m sure he has his reasons”

      Three made a quiet “hmmm”, the one that Vessel knew was a noise of doubt. The one the Third used when he knew Vessel was making excuses. Before he could respond though, The Fourth had sat down on the other side of him, seemingly contemplating the waves, before nodding his head towards Two, “He’s still at it with the strange sigils again then?”

Three looked over, Two having his back to them, apparently so engrossed in what he was doing he didn’t even notice them watching him, “Every day now. I asked if he wanted anything and he said he was fine with his usual sugar water.”

Four pulled his legs up and sat his chin on them, contemplative, “What you make of it?”

Three shrugged, “Can’t force him to tell us really. But maybe the Rituals are wearing him out? We were traveling for a long time for the last one. He doesn’t seem to be in any distress at least.”

Vessel looked on, silently finishing his tea and setting it aside when he felt a familiar prickle at the back of his neck. He straightened up, getting to his feet, and looking at the sky above, “He is coming…”

They all scrambled to their feet, all except for Two, who was still busy scratching the mystery symbols into the sand with all the intensity of a university student at exam time. Before Vessel could call to him though, Sleep manifested himself before them, hovering between the ocean and the sky. 

The six eyes Sleep had given Vessel allowed him to see things that others could not. Things hidden behind the vestiges of the material world, things both beautiful and grotesque, all uncanny. But even he couldn’t fully comprehend Sleep’s appearance. Multiple eyes in multiple colors blinked and stared, vanished and reappeared against an ever changing background. Sometimes he was as a black cloud, sometimes he was a school of fish, sometimes he was a great and prehistoric sea beast, sometimes he was a wholly alien mass of tendrils and snapping squid beaks, but always with the look of detached curiosity in his many eyes as he watched them.

As Vessel knelt Sleep’s voice pressed into his mind, and he felt the examination begin. Like hundreds of tendrils poking into his brain and turning it over and over, looking for any small flaw or hidden treasure to be pulled out and dissected and studied. 

The Voice began, in a monotone made up of a thousand voices, “You guard your thoughts from me, why?”

“If I am, it is not intentional I assure you.”

“This is not the first time, my Vessel. It speaks to a pattern that I find unacceptable”, the pressure in his mind intensified, making him wince in pain. He grit his teeth but spread out his hands, an attempt to placate, “Please, I am still yours. I am still faithful.”

“And yet you Keep Secrets.”

 The probing got even worse, and he doubled over in agony, grasping at the sand as the pain blinded him with white hot light, choking out a plea, “What have I done to offend you? Please!”, he felt the hands of Three and Four on him, trying to soothe as tears began to form. He tried to shoo them away from him, his hands shaking. But they helped ease him back up, holding him steady between them.

“But you cannot hide anything from me, my servant. Your mind has been wandering, your attention strays, you seek that which is forbidden to you. The seeds of Doubt have been planted, and now that which sprouted roots in you must be removed.”

He lifted his head, staring wide eyed, “I don’t understand, what are you saying?”

“The other vessels are no longer necessary. They have served their purpose, and now they lead you astray from me. Their time has ended.”

Vessel's heart thudded, and he felt his blood go cold, “Please no…no no no no don’t take them from me please. We have done so much together for you and we aren’t finished-“

“It has been decided. Do not try my patience.”

Vessel’s mouth opened, as he silently tried to grasp for words. This was a nightmare, it couldn’t be happening, and yet he could see in Sleep’s eyes that this was his final decision, yet still he couldn’t allow this to happen.

“But have they not also served you well? Have I not served you well? I will do anything, anything just please…not this…punish me instead I beg you. I will accept it with a smile on my face. I won’t complain, I won’t bother you for answers, just…please. Not them…”

“They are distracting you. Do you not comprehend that none will love you as I do? What have I done to receive this spitefulness from you?”

White hot anger boiled up from within him. How could he? Was it not enough that he had bled and been broken over and over and over again to Sleep’s whims? Had he not sacrificed? Had he not given him EVERYTHING? When would it all be enough?

 “They’re my friends…no they are more than that, you can’t do this. Tell me to tear my own heart instead and I will! You cannot demand this of me!”

There was a moment of silence, before the ground began to rumble, the sky turning to blood and the waves to ink. The others scrambled to find each other, huddling next to the First.

Vessel had seen Sleep enraged before. And he was often on the receiving end of it, but he had not seen Wrath such as this before. Every part of him was begging him to throw himself down and plead for mercy, and yet…

He looked over at the others, and saw that as much as they shook as he did, they still stood beside him. Willing to face the punishment of an angry god while still on their feet. So he looked once again upon the face of his savior, his persecutor, and stepped forward to receive whatever would be doled out. 

“I…**I CAN’T**? You Forget your place so easily, I can do as I will. And you are ungrateful, you show no piety, you DOUBT me. I MADE you what you are now! I raised you from the dirt in which you fell pleading for an end to your mortal pain, your trifling qualms, and I raised you to be like a god compared to humanity. And you spit in my face, as a scurrilous viper!”

The Third muttered to the Fourth, “I really wish he’d just kill us and get on with it already.”

The Fourth managed a chuckle, “Whatever happens, I am glad to have met you”, he grabbed the Third’s hand, which seemed to help steady them both for what was to come. 

Before Vessel could respond, Sleep's tendrils were upon him. He knew there was no point in fighting, but he grasped and pulled at them anyways, his hands uselessly sinking into squishy boneless ropes that were as resilient as steel. They wrapped around his body, yanking him off the ground. There was none of the gentleness with which he was first lifted up, he was merely a toy in the hands of a giant angry child. 

The others tried to hold onto him, to keep him there with them, wrapping their arms around his legs and clutching onto his clothing so hard that his robe began to rip, and the Fourth called out, “We can’t, he’s too strong, Vessel will tear apart!”

“Assuming Sleep isn’t just going to do that anyways! Just keep hold of him!”, the Third had a leg and a hold on his belt. A stray thought flitted by hoping that he wouldn’t die without his pants on. He called out to them, “Just let me go, flee and save yourselves!”

It didn’t matter anyways, Sleep made a tug and effortlessly pulled him away from the others, a tendril wrapping around his throat tight like a steel band, more wrapping around his ribs with crushing strength, and with every panicked breath out they only got tighter. He couldn’t even cry out, the tendril around his throat painfully tightening around his windpipe like a noose. He tried to calm down, to remember his breath control, to keep his panic from leading more quickly to his demise. But already he was fading, his heart thudding like ii’s drums in his chest as a gray mist crept into the sides of his vision. All six eyes blinked in an effort to stay awake, but as he looked up into the blazing red eyes of Sleep he knew there would be no return.

But there was a deafening crack, like lightning striking the sea, making  his ears ring, and it echoed throughout the bleeding sky. The tendrils loosened their grip ever so slightly, and it was enough for him to turn his head back to the beach where he saw the Third and the Fourth staring at the Second.

He was at the head of the beach, glaring up at Sleep, eyes blazing with fury and a inner light Vessel had not seen before. His palms held together in front of him, as if he were in mid-clap.

A voice like thunder echoed out from nowhere, vibrating his very teeth with how it boomed throughout the bubble, “Go then back to the Void where you belong, but you will not be taking them. They are no longer yours.”

Vessel was released suddenly, and he crashed onto the beach in a heap. His body was broken, he could feel that much. Pain screamed from all of his nerves like alarm bells. He stared up at the sky, at his deity, as he withdrew and faded as suddenly as he had arrived, without so much as a whisper. The blood turned back to azure, and the ink to lapis. 

He sighed, or tried to, managing only a choked wheeze as the darkness crept in, for the last time ever. And yet he tried to keep his eyes open, hearing the others running along with the waves gently lapping.  It was too late, but they were free. And the last thing he saw were the faces of the others staring wide eyed and frightened as they tried to bring him back to them. 

He thought in his final moments, that he had heard Two’s voice, 

“Help him.”

He gasped and coughed, holding his throat as he sat up. The tendrils were gone, and he took in a deep breath, filling his lungs in relief. It was only after he took several breaths that he looked around himself, finding that he was no longer on the sand but instead on a bed of soft moss and grass. He was in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees, the crowns of which formed an almost perfect circle that let him look up into the clearest night sky he had ever seen. Stars so numerous they resembled the lights of a great city glowed in white, red, yellow, and blue, and were cast against the glowing ribbon of a galaxy. 

Truly, it was a breathtaking sight. But there was something not quite right. The stars weren’t ones he recognized.

A low smoky voice broke his immersion, “Don’t be afraid”.

He turned slowly, cautious, his tall frame slightly hunched. But he paused when he saw her, straightening up and tipping his head, all six eyes focused.

A woman. Tall. Surprisingly tall. Taller even than he. Her skin was like the deepest obsidian flecked with stars, like she was a reflection of the sky above. Horns in the shape of a lyre arched from thick, wavy hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She wore a plain black peplos, which made her skin stand out all the more. Her eyes were of amethyst, and he could see no hint of malice in them. But with his sight he could see behind her a hazy reflection of her true self, a queen of stature winged and radiating a barely restrained power that could only belong to someone on par with Sleep himself…and yet…something about her felt even older. 

He didn’t approach, but neither did he back away, standing his ground even as she started to walk around him, looking him over while he tried to study her at the same time.

“Do you speak?  Or are you perhaps too frightened to do so?”, she said with a slight curve to her lips.

He paused from trying to follow her with his head. Was she teasing him? Who, or what, was she? What did she want with him? Every part of him was tensed, awaiting an attack or some other sort of nonsense. Because what else could possibly happen? The worst possible thing had already occurred so what else could go wrong?

Fuck it, he decided, and then threw his thoughts out onto the wind,

“I am not afraid”

This was a lie.

“I speak when there is something important to say”

This was not a lie. But something Sleep had taught him. Sleep did not speak with a mouth, finding it to be more befitting of mortals while he projected his thought forms. He had no need to speak otherwise. And why should he? He had Vessel to be his Voice, the one to relay his message to the others. 

“Were the Voice. You were The Voice”, a thought at the back of his mind oh so helpfully reminded him. 

He sighed. 

She plucked at his robe, which he now realized was whole and dry again. Not even a wrinkle to be found. Indeed, it was as if everything he was wearing was new again, and he reached up to feel for his mask.

It was still there, and still as attached as ever to him. And it was then he noticed her reaching out towards it.

He flinched away from her hand, recoiling like a rattlesnake without even thinking, teeth bared and body tense as a bowstring. And almost as suddenly as it happened a wave of shame hit him, and he looked away as he swallowed down the ball of dry bitterness that had formed in his throat. 

Her voice was low and gentle, “It doesn’t come off, does it? You have tried before.”

His jaw clenched. He had tried many times in fact. And with each attempt it just seemed to become even more a part of him. The first time, it felt like it would take his skin off with it, and now, well it _was_ his skin. “It…hurts.” He covered his face with his hands. He was human, once. And that was all he knew since he had first put the mask on. But whoever he was before had been erased. He had no idea how old he was, how long Sleep had him as a servant, how many times he had died and come back and died again. Now he was…just this. An empty vessel. And he was overwhelmed with that feeling of emptiness, Sleep’s presence utterly gone from him. He crumpled down to his knees, his head touching the moss like he was a supplicant. 

She knelt down beside him, her hands clasped in her lap, “Are you in pain?”

“I failed Sleep, but worse, I failed them.”

“You sound so certain when you say that. What makes you believe you failed?”

“I should have been stronger, I should have protected them, I should have been more obedient. Then none of this would have happened.”

“But you survived, as did they.”

He thought for a moment, sitting back up again to look at her, “They’re safe?”

She nodded, “They are. And so are you”, she tipped her head again, in a way that vaguely reminded him of an owl, “Can you feel anything while it’s on?”

     “What…do you mean?”

“If you were to face the sky while it was raining, would you feel the drops fall upon you?”

He paused to think on it. When was the last time he felt anything on his face? As much as the mask had become a part of him, did he ever feel the touch of the wind or the rain? Did he feel his own tears burning a trail down his cheeks? He couldn’t remember.

“I…”

“May I?”, she put her hand out, palm upright. Her nails formed short points, but still, there was something about her that felt familiar, that felt safe. As much as his mind was shouting at him that this was all some sort of trick, he decided to take the chance. 

He stared at her, then her hand, then her again, swallowed hard, and then gave a short nod.

She reached out towards his face slowly, making a low soft noise as if she was trying to gentle a wild horse. This time he didn’t flinch or shrink back, keeping still as she gingerly touched the cheek of his mask. Her eyes met his as she began to feel along the filigree-like edge that outlined his jaw, and he gave another tiny nod. She continued to feel along it, like she was memorizing its shape with her fingertips, but she stayed slow and gentle with her movements, especially when she got to the little points that poked past his chin. She went to his forehead next, and tapped a nail on the material, receiving a dull sound in response.

She made a sad sigh, “I cannot remove it, but I can help you another way”

He went to speak but as she once again caressed a fingertip along his cheek he made a soft gasp. He could feel her hand. It was warm, the pad of her finger soft and with just the slightest trace of her nail grazing him. She smiled wide as she watched his reaction, “There you are”. His breath caught in his throat at the peek of fangs behind her lips, visions of blood in the water and the grip of teeth burying in his flesh flickering in from the past in his mind. He blinked those thoughts away, forcing himself to focus on how oddly…tender she was while touching him. The way she looked at him. Not like he was a subject to be examined and flayed open down to his core so that his every memory and thought and failing was exposed to the salt air but, like how the others looked at him. With fondness. Softness. 

“You’re not used to a gentle touch are you? I think you need more of that in your life.”

“Why?”

She gave him a sad look. Though he did not understand why.

“You don’t think you deserve that?”

“I’m…it’s not about deserving-I-just…” 

But it was. He knew it was. But overpowering the fear and despair there was a deep and aching Want.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!”, he nearly yelled it but managed to just barely get a hold of himself, ‘…I want you to keep going, please.” He reached up a shaky hand, covering hers with his own as she cupped his cheek,  “please.”

She grinned again, her fangs almost glowing white against her dark skin. And for a moment he wondered what it would be like to feel them piercing the flesh of his neck, the blood dripping from him like rubies. He felt himself get warm at the thought, but kept quiet, watching her raise her other hand slowly to touch his other cheek. He couldn’t help it, he closed his eyes, feeling such softness soothing his nerves, the heat of her palms sinking into him bone-deep. The tenseness began to drop from his shoulders as her thumbs stroked under his eyes, and he realized when she swept away wetness that he had been crying. 

“Who are you?”, he said it as a plea, desperate to know and no longer bothering with the pretense that he really had any way to fight her off. Not that he wanted to anyways. Her touch awakened something in him, a need so great he would die, he would kill, he would do anything to have it recognized. 

She gave a soft and affectionate sort of smile as she kept petting his face, “You still don’t recognize me? Even after you had called to me so long ago…”

      “I called to you?” 

She got closer, her face mere inches from his, and sang in her smoky voice, near his ear in close to a whisper, “So give me the night, the night, the night…”. She traced a finger over his lower lip, “But even before then, I was listening. When you sought comfort in the darkness, when you looked to the sky and prayed to anyone who would listen, when you sought inspiration in the stars…I heard you.”

“But who-“

“Think a little longer, and you will know my name”

He blinked, his voice shaking as he spoke, “The Greeks called you Nyx…”

She laughed in soft delight, “And some called me Nótt, some called me Ītzpāpālōtl, some called me Nephthys and on and on and on…”

“Are you…like Sleep? You don’t feel the same.”

“Existence is vast. There are things even older than Sleep. Older than bones and mountains and even the stars themselves. No. We are not the same.” 

“But how-“, it clicked just as soon as he was about to ask. The symbols that Two etched into the sand. An ancient language even the gods had forgotten. Primordial sigils of protection that just so happened to look like messy doodles of stars and planets. Two had been calling to her, summoning her, whichever the case, he was the one who had brought her forth. And so it was her-, “You were the one on the beach, the one who sent Sleep away”

“Yes. That was me”, she sat back, taking one of his hands in hers, tracing the lines in his palm with her fingertip, “When Sleep claimed you initially, Two was there with you. But while he didn’t worry for himself, he worried for you. He made sure to keep his research hidden, but he’s very dedicated when he sets his mind to something, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

He nodded, nearly vibrating with Wanting to Know All but allowing her to continue

“And so when he first spoke to me I immediately answered. We made a plan, for Sleep has tossed aside many of his playthings, and the world is littered with those broken by him. I couldn’t stop Sleep entirely by myself, and he couldn’t either, so we made a pact. He would be my vessel. But not in the same way Sleep had you.”

“I never had any idea…”. 

Playthings. That really was how he saw them. And he was just one of many. For as much as Sleep had praised him in the beginning, building up his confidence and faith, it was all just to serve and end. An end which would have shattered him utterly. But somehow Two knew. Two had the foresight that he didn’t. 

“Nor would you. That was intentional. We couldn’t have Sleep’s favorite noticing anything strange was happening. At least not until we knew that Sleep was going to do for certain. When he stopped responding to you, we knew it was time.”

“Did the others know?”

“They suspected something was afoot, and knew more than they led on. But did they know exactly what was happening, and that I was there? No. As much as it pained Two to keep things from you all, it was necessary so that you would have a way out from all of this.”

He placed his head in his hands, “I am such an idiot…why didn’t I realize it would happen. Why did I stay? Why when all the signs were there that we were just puppets in his hands?”

She put a single fingertip under his chin, tilting his head to look up at her, “Your whole life you have wandered the desert in search of sweet rain and your prayers only returned bitter waters. In you there is much pain yes…but oh there is so much love. It’s not your fault that there are those who are drawn to your love only because they wish to use it. Who seek out those who have suffered and are so desperate for any love, any show of kindness, that they lay their traps for you”, she looked at him with soft eyes, and he felt his heart thump faster, “But you knew, deep down you knew you deserved better because you knew already that they deserved better. You just hadn’t made the connection yet. And when you did, you all stood together. In the face of wrath. It was not me that saved you in the end, you saved yourself. You saved them. And that was the key to bring me forth.”

She leaned forward, just to gently kiss his forehead, holding his face between her hands while his tears made trails down his face. He met her eyes anyways, and saw himself reflected in them, “You are not alone. And you are loved. The other vessels love you, and I have loved you for so very very long.”

A little vibration went up his back, a long distant memory. A soft whisper when he felt at his worst, like a breeze that slid over his skin. Words he could not hear but somehow…he didn’t feel quite so alone as he hunched over the keyboard. A heady scent coming from the window…

“I…don’t know what I can give you. I know only to worship…”

“Just be you, and let your love out. Show it to the others. I ask for your heart, but only when you are ready to give it willingly”, she nuzzled his cheek, and he was taken aback by how soft she felt, “I see your pain, and I will carry that burden with you if you wish, when you are ready.”

But it was with a heavy sob, one he could no longer hold back, that he pressed into her arms, clinging to her like a frightened child as all the pain and the grief over wanting so badly to be loved only to be tossed aside poured out of him. He had stuffed it away for so long, several lifetimes worth of trying so hard to mold himself to the expectations of others in the hopes of just a little kindness, and now the dam had finally broken. He heaved shuddering sobs as he crumpled, feeling her hugging his head, one of her delicate hands stroking his back as he grieved his past selves. 

As he finally caught some of his breath back, he loosened his grip slightly, sitting up slowly,

“I apologize.”

“For what?”

“I’m…not entirely sure to be honest.”

“You’re used to apologizing for everything aren’t you?”, she hummed and then booped the end of his nose, “That’s another habit we’ll have to break you out of”.

He felt the spot that she just touched, bemused, “So what happens now?”, he peered around the clearing again, “Is this your home?”

“It’s my Garden. A world between worlds like your beach”, she extended her hand, a luna moth flitting through the trees to land on her knuckles, he watched as she stroked  its wings, ever so gently, “What happens next is up to you. But Two doesn’t need me to hide within him any longer. He should be having a nice nap right now.”

Vessel let out a soft chuckle, “Were you the reason he was imbibing so much red bull?”

She made a face, “Oh no no, if anything I suggested he switch to using a French press but he refused”, she shook her head, but she was smiling, and he couldn’t help but notice that even in the low light of the clearing she seemed to have an inner glow. She took his hand, letting the moth crawl into his palm. As he watched it explore his fingers he asked, “Do you have worshipers?”

“No, at least not in the way most gods do. I do not have a need to be worshiped. My sustenance comes from those who revel and rejoice in the night. That is enough.”

The moth, seemingly satisfied with its explorations, flitted off into the darkness, “Would you want one?”

She hugged her knees to herself as she met his gaze, the corners of her mouth turned up, “Are you asking if I want one, or are you asking permission to worship me?”

He looked back to his empty hands, thinking. He couldn’t remember the last time he had much of a choice in anything. Let alone something like…this. 

She bumped her shoulder softly into him, “Or are you asking for something else?”

He swallowed, feeling the warmth radiate from her and how soft she felt just from the touches she gave him. He wanted…more, “I’m…honestly…wondering what you taste like…”

She shifted, and for a moment he had the frightened thought that he had made her angry, but instead she had turned to look at him, touching his jaw so he would look back at her, “You’re welcome to find out, taste and touch as much as you like”, she nuzzled his cheek, running a finger over his lower lip and playfully whispering, against his ear, “I promise I won’t bite you”.

The corners of his mouth twitched up, “… and what if I-want-you to bite me?”

She laughed, and the sound made his smile go wide. “And what else would you want?”, she slid behind him, sliding her arms around his neck, so she was pressed fully against him, and he found himself giving a little shiver as her breath warmed his skin, the fragrance of night blooming jasmine on her skin, “Would you make me yours?”

“Is that what you really want? You know it would be completely unlike Sleep...”

“I know, that’s why I want it”, he reached up, slowly, to touch her hand, a reassurance, “Control is not what you desire. You wish for something else from me.”

He could feel her breathing against his back, “Only your heart, freely given. Your mind, your friends, everything else is yours alone.”

“Then make me yours, and be mine?”

“Gladly~”

He woke up. The morning light was gray as it crept over the horizon. The ocean's waves calm in the background. He slowly sat up, and he felt a wave of grief wash over him. No. It couldn’t have been a dream. Could it? Another punishment by Sleep? To give him a dream so real only to take it all away at the end wasn’t beyond him. And it wouldn’t be the first time, but to make this would be beyond cruelty. No. He wanted to scream, to howl curses at the sky and the waters and at existence itself. 

 He scrambled to his feet, and sucked in a breath at the sudden ache in his neck, and as he reached up he gingerly stroked over the bite mark that formed a perfect crescent there. The one bite he wouldn’t let her heal. And he realized he could still taste her on his tongue, his back stinging slightly from when her nails raked down his skin, the fingers of her other hand twined with his in the soft moss. 

He huffed a soft laugh, closing his eyes as he turned inward, seeking out her resting place. 

“Are you still there?”, he said in a whisper, his own heartbeat and breathing the only response as he searched his own mind. No. That was wrong. She told him his thoughts would be his own did she not? So why would she take up residence there? No, no. Her throne was elsewhere. And then he felt it, just the slightest stirring, a tiny shift in movement while in a deep sleep. There. Coiled around his heart protectively, she rested quietly. He pressed his hand over his heart, but a distant shout made his eyes open again. He turned, finding Three, Four, and Two running towards him. He was about to speak when he was full on tackled by Three, falling back with a grunt and immediately barraged with questions,

“WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD FOR GOOD”

“WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“TWO HAS BEEN SLEEPING FOR HOURS”

“ARE YOU HURT YOU’RE GRIMACING”

“That’s because when you threw yourself at him he landed on a piece of driftwood you tit”, Four was laughing but mercifully helped Vessel back up into sitting position, settling into the sand next to him, “You alright then?”

“I think so”, he found the piece of broken driftwood behind him and tossed it aside, “What did I miss?”

“We thought you were dying and then you just…vanished.”

“We’ve seen you die before but, not like this”

  “And you always come back but-“, they exchanged looks and then Four gestured with his head to Two,  who had plonked himself down opposite of Vessel, a beatific glint in his eyes. “He kept saying you’d be back, before passing right out.”

Vessel huffed a laugh, “No wonder, he had been keeping a pretty heavy secret under wraps for a long time”, but he reached out and took Two’s hands in his, before kissing them like he was royalty, “Thank you. You saved all of us.”

Two shrugged, “Well I couldn’t very well lose all of you could I? Besides-“, he flung his arms around Vessel, tackling him back into the sand, causing him to make a grunt that was less substantial that the one Three had him make but still one that he knew he would be feeling later, “We have so much more to do and to see!”

The other two had the temerity to flop down on him as well, so he was fully trapped, “Am I EVER going to be allowed to get back up?”

Four rested his head against Vessel’s chest, “You’re going to have to get used to this. You’re stuck with us I’m afraid.”

Three rumbled on the other side, “Maybe in an hour or so we’ll let you up for tea. But only that. And to tell us where the hell you’ve been off to disappearing without leaving a note and all”

“You came back just in time, look, the sun is rising”, Two pointed towards the horizon, and Vessel was just only able to lift his head to look, 

“So it is…but I wonder what the night will bring.”

[redhotarsenic]

Man imagine whining because I called you a moron when you’re in fact being a moron