#{ so y'know just putting this here into the void }

[ghostoffuturespast]

It's been really nice writing again without feeling like there's a fucking fire under my ass the entire time.

[mcltiples]

Is not afraid to bite. And will do so unprompted.

[kooki914]

Nobody asked and yet you're getting it anyway, my Dess interpretation! Tbf I love a lot of other people's Dess designs maybe more than my own based on complexity/symbology alone, but this is what my original take for her was so I'm sticking to it. Extremely long list of factoids for her under the cut!

Dess hasn't seen a hairbrush in 8 years.

Opening her first fountain was an accident, and so was entering the dark world, but it was something she desperately needed at that point. She was knighted by Spade King, before being dubbed the Roaring Knight by the general public after she opened the second fountain and people started (correctly) assuming she was trying to cause the apocalypse.

Dess is mtf trans! She was out since she was 9, and took puberty blockers for a while, but stopped after she disappeared because she, y'know, didn't have access to them anymore. Strangely, even though she's been off of them for so long, there's very few side effects. You can just see her Adam's apple sometimes and muscle mass started building for her easily, but that's it. She's silently grateful that her dad didn't pass down any beard-making genes.

The reason why it's been so mild is due in part because of the effect of being in the "void" for too long, aka the space so dark and isolated you can't even feel your own limbs. She was stuck in the code of the game, basically, and it's had adverse effects on her mentally and physically, the only positive effect being less testosterone production in her body.

The physical effects are odd. Though she's grown and her body's age is what it would've been if she never disappeared, she's still in the same clothes she was when she ran away, but they sized up with her. The black nail polish she had on is still there too, not even chipped. As previously mentioned, her hormones are out of whack but, somehow, she's still clearly a grown adult, as if she just went through a very, very mild puberty.

The mental effects of being stranded in the literal nothingness are as expected as they are odd. The standard effects of not having contact with another person for so long have, somehow, never taken hold. It's like the social part of her brain was just put on pause. However, part of the madness she DID get was her very much considering her memories might just be made up. As if she was always here and managed to, somehow, delude herself into thinking she had a life outside of this place, when she never did. Essentially, she stopped existing, but retained some level of consciousness.

The whole "not existing for a while" thing as well as the fact that she's pre-hrt trans means she absolutely hates mirrors. Give her a mirror and she'll give back about a hundred shards of it. When she was younger she usually just had dysphoria over looking too boyish (hence why she never cut her hair) but nowadays she has weird feelings about something as simple as Having Knees (the existential horror of having a body after being formless in the nothingness during your formative years).

Her journey as the Knight was mostly about rediscovering herself, trying to find purpose and trying to help the people around her. She spent her whole life feeling helpless, and wanted to destroy that feeling, for everyone. Her violent behavior was rewarded by the equally maladjusted Spade King, and they teamed up under the pretense of helping all of darkner kind.

Dess set out to cause the Roaring, per his instruction, without knowing what it even was. All she knew is that, apparently, she was the only one who could, and that gave her a sense of purpose. Once she learned it'd bring about the end of the world, she was so detached from the world that she carried on anyway, not concerned with the life that could be lost because, god, she spent so long outside it, how COULD she know what life was worth now?

Dess went by neutral pronouns (they/it) as the Knight because it was another mask she used to distance what she Knew of herself and what she Had to be (kind of like Asriel calling himself "Flowey" in Undertale, actually). Being called "her" was too familiarising and humanising, being called "he" made her break out into hives and start killing, so she stuck with the alternatives for utilitarian reasons. Somewhere along the way she got sick of it and started missing her feminine pronouns, but decided to just stick to the bit anyway. The world was gonna end soon anyhow, who cares?

Once she's out of the role of Knight and back in the light world, you bet your ass she's switching back to exclusively she/her. Fuck neutrality, this girl needs gender affirmative language.

Rediscovering music, and specifically playing and making music, was one of the things that helped Dess get back in touch with being a person again after the whole Knight debacle. She plays piano and harmonica of her own volition, and the violin because of her mom's insistence, but her true favourite will always be the guitar. She was a little small as a kid so playing it used to be difficult, but now that she's an adult having it in her lap is easy, and honestly it just makes her feel alive. One of those dreams she had as a kid that she forgot about along the way, y'know?

Her and Asriel were just family friends at first, but when they ended up going to the same class together too, they quickly became best friends. They were there for each other through everything, Dess got Asriel into games, he was there when she came out, and they were practically inseparable. Asriel was a hard worker and Dess was a super active sports kid, they balanced each other out well and were known as the highest achievers in their class, the golden kids.

Kris and Noelle got dragged into their adventures basically on accident, Noelle because Dess was the one babysitting her all the time, and Kris because they wanted to spend time with their brother. They often spent time outside together because Dess loved being anywhere but at home. She didn't mind Azzy's house, though. Kris was a lot to deal with sometimes and Dess scolded them in a lot of the same ways adults scolded her (minus the hitting them over the head with stuff, what was all her). She has no idea the impact she's had on their behavior.

She was always kind of violent, but when she was younger it wasn't really an issue, more like an excuse to get her into sports. She learned to act out because causing problems was the only context in which she'd get attention from her very busy parents. With Noelle specifically, Dess took on a semi-parental role and quickly developed a habit of taking on way more burdens than she could handle. Even with Asriel as a best friend and the Dreemurrs as a surrogate family, the control her mother Clarice commanded over her life was just too limiting. It all boiled over.

Dess started lashing out at other kids around when puberty hit, starting fights and genuinely hurting people. She never got expelled because her mother was the mayor, but Dess started getting grounded more and more often, which meant less and less time with her only real friend, and more with her very dysfunctional family. She loved Noelle, but her little sister became another responsibility, another liability that could get Dess in trouble, it was way too much for her to handle maturely when she was only 13.

Dess "disappeared" because she ran away from home. She hated living there, but neither of her parents could admit that, hence her disappearance being so "mysterious" to the other townsfolk, they genuinely thought she vanished from inside the house. It was only after Kris admitted they saw her in the woods near the bunker that night that the case got more complicated, and the legend only grew more terrifying.

Her original plan was to just catch a bus to out of town and hope for the best, but when she ran into the woods in pitch blackness, she couldn't find her way around. She was too reliant on light, and couldn't manage in darkness. She found the bunker in her aimless wandering and, hoping to sleep off the night and make up excuses in the morning, she went inside. She couldn't have known that nothing was in there.

The effects of her sudden disappearance rippled throughout the whole town. Most obviously, Asgore got fired for not being able to find her and Rudy quit his job to be a stay at home dad for Noelle's sake. Less tangibly, Asriel and Clarice both started burying themselves in work to avoid grief. Kris and Noelle socially shut down for a few years, it's why neither of them have any real friends other than the strained relationship they have with each other. Asriel took on Dess' habit of "be anywhere but home" when his parents started having marital problems, and Kris latched onto him even harder to avoid losing any more people in their life. Through all this, Dess was nowhere, silently wondering if anyone even noticed she's gone, if her life was even real to begin with.

One of the strange things that happened to her while stranded in nothingness was almost being able to hear someone mumbling to themselves. When she called out, the voice vanished, only to re-emerge an uncertain amount of time later and excuse himself for getting startled. He just doesn't get guests often, you see. And guests get him even more rarely. It was refreshing to hear a consciousness separate from her own, but his mind was even more broken than hers, unable to answer her questions about what was real and what was imagined as he seemed to think he himself was a product of unreality. Plus, he never really stayed for too long and he never wanted to talk about himself either, as if mentioning his own name could shatter him to pieces.

The reason Dess didn't lose her mind from to his influence like Jevil and Spamton did was because she's just fundamentally pragmatic. You can throw philosophy and existential questions at her all you want but as long as she talks and thinks, she exists, which means reality is Something, even if it's completely eluding her grasp. It might also have something to do with her being a (homestuck warning) Void player, meaning the idea of the innate meaninglessness of life and unanswerable questions about reality itself don't really sound earth-shattering to her.

She used her knife to open fountains at first, the one she brought with her from the light world, but along the way she picked up a rapier and decided it was way cooler than a knife so it's her go-to now. She's not actually that good with swords, though. She uses them like baseball bats. Despite this, Spade King still praises her as if she's the best warrior they've seen in generations. It might've gone to her head.

Her relationship with King is fundamentally a mentor and a student. He gave her flawed information, but taught her a lot about herself, the world she found herself in, and the role she could choose. And, that's the most important part, he let her CHOOSE, because he was genuinely under the impression that she was just a really powerful darkner and not a lightner. His strictness and high standards reminded her of her parents, mostly her mom, but his willingness to give HER control over her own destiny is what made her favour him over every other adult in her life. Discipline that treated her like a valued person rather than an asset was basically unheard of for her until then. Plus, reminding her of her parents gave Spade the bonus of every time he encouraged her on anything it'd activate the "parental approval" neurons in her brain that were terribly starved up to that point.

From Spade's point of view, the Knight (as a darkner) is everything he wants to be, but can't be. At first he mentored her mostly as an excuse to live vicariously through her, but in getting to know her better he discovered they have a lot more in common than he first thought. Unregulated emotions, unresolved pasts, the constant feeling that you need to do More and Louder in order to make any kind of impact... he started to genuinely care about her. If/when he's redeemed, finding out the Knight has been a lightner this whole time might not even be that much of a betrayal. Seeing her face and learning her name as she apologies for lying is like reconnecting with his own wounded, younger self. Letting it be water under the bridge means he doesn't lose connection to himself again, doesn't lose connection with his best student. Plus, December IS a nice name.

She met Lancer, but didn't pay him much mind. She was busy with overthrowing the other Kings and was too tired to be a babysitter again. Due to her rancid vibes as the Knight (and the fact that she quickly became the favoured child even though it wasn't her intention) Lancer doesn't like her that much. She left Card Kingdom pretty quickly, anyway (Spade's advice to seek another worthy kingdom to grant a fountain to), so she never got much of a chance to get to know him, even if she wanted to.

Her relationship with Queen is even more fraught. Due to Queen's tendency to mimic the "mother" personality for every lightner she meets individually, as well as her more Explicitly Controlling tendencies, Dess quickly became rebellious and then antagonistic towards her. Queen tried to choose FOR her, to get her to open fountains on HER terms, and Dess wasn't having it. Yes, following Queen's instructions would've caused the Roaring much, MUCH sooner, but, like. Not at ALL in a satisfying way.

She has no idea who Gaster is. When asked, she'll assume he's a Darkner. If asked about the man in the nothingness, she'll shrug it off. Now that she's out, she doesn't know if he's actually real or something she just made up in her head, though she laughs that off as well. "I sound a lot like him when saying that, huh?"

Learning Asriel goes to college is complete whiplash for her. Her sense of time is WRECKED. Like, yeah, she can wrap her head around Noelle and Kris being teens now, but ASRIEL??? What do you MEAN he's not still stressing over chemistry exams and cramming for spanish class, and is, like, actually studying something he's interested in???? Unheard of.

She makes fun of him SO much for his little beard stubble, dude. It's all in good fun, but like, you can only be called "mini Asgore" so many times by your childhood best friend before it starts to cut deeper. On the flipside he has literally nothing bad to say to her. She nearly caused the apocalypse, but like, he gets it. He would've done the same in her shoes (hooves??). He thinks her Dark World armour is so kickass and he could never pull it off like she can.

Unsurprisingly Asriel has a crush on Dess. He always kinda had one, even when they were kids, but reconnecting as adults just Fully bashed him over the head with the fact that he's had repressed feelings for her and he has NO idea what to do about it. He's anxiety incarnate and thinks Dess already KNOWS he has a crush on her and just isn't saying anything because she's playing it cool, or doesn't wanna hurt his feelings, or thinks he's too lame to date or something. He thinks she's the coolest person who ever lived and has no idea how to cope.

Meanwhile in reality, Dess is a clueless aro/ace. She doesn't really know what having a crush even means. She thinks being a couple is, like, flirting and fighting behind closed doors (you can tell the only couples she knew personally were her parents and Asriel's parents), so she thinks it's just exhausting and doesn't know why anyone bothers. When Noelle tells her she has a crush on Susie Dess is like "Hell yeah, love is love........ wait do you mean you like her or you want her to crush you with a boulder" and Noelle sweats for a while before replying with "b-both?"

Dess has never been to Castletown. Most likely will never go.

Her and Kris reconnecting is a bit awkward at first, mostly on account of the fact that Kris and their posse are the ones that had her bash her over the head as the Knight to get her to behave in the first place, but Dess doesn't really focus on that. Kris thinks they hurt her, she just thinks of them as a little hero. Susie kinda helps facilitate them talking like people again, at least at first, because she has no baggage with Dess other than hitting her with an ax over dark fountains and getting stabbed in return, but like... Out of all the people they fought Dess is the only one who actually said sorry for being a jackass, so it's all good in Susie's book. Kris is just happy to have Dess back, man, that bunker and their memory of it has been haunting them for entirely too long, now.

Like Kris and Asriel, Dess learned how to play piano in church. Unlike them, and unlike Noelle, Dess has actually become fully agnostic after her time in the void. If there IS an angel looking out for her, it certainly isn't one that could've helped her, so what's the point of worship? Plus, Asriel and Noelle are two angels looking out for her as is! Why add divinity to that? (I am extremely subtle, I know.)

To this day, she's still apologising to Asgore for getting him fired. He is still apologising for not being able to find her. It's a pity party.

No-one tell her parents but she smokes weed. Once she reformed from being the Knight, she had a lot on her mind, man, weed is the most harmless thing she could've taken to cope. Seam is a good dealer, they have the good stuff.

She's absolutely called King "dad" by accident before. He doesn't really mind. No-one tell Rudy though, he's gonna be pissed.

On that note, I feel the need to add that she was never as close to him as Noelle was, because he only really started being an active parent after Dess went missing. It's kinda tragic, and he feels REALLY guilty about it, but if he ever verbalises that guilt he's gonna actually crumble into dust. His confidence is all a mask as is, actually admitting that he was kind of garbage at being a dad with his first kid is just gonna make it so much worse. But, until Dess hears an apology, she's not really gonna be able to actually mend their relationship, so they're at an impasse.

Inversely, her time away from the light world kinda made Dess forget the way her mother acts. She sorta got a bit of "once away from the abuser you forget the abuse", especially knowing she herself was a kid when it all happened so she kinda started justifying her mother's actions to herself when away from her. After like 2 weeks of living with her again Dess fully remembers why she ran away and packs her bags to live literally anywhere else. Preferably with King if that's an option, though that might just make Lancer move out as well.

She doesn't know what minecraft is.

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)

[wandashousewife]

Dear Child (Chapter One)

Pairing — Wanda x Reader

Synopsis — Your father was notorious for going on failed tinder dates for years after your mother had left for her own reasons which she never told you. You never actually thought your father had a chance in the vast sea of relationships until you found out that one of his friends knew a European woman a couple years older than you who wanted to marry him. Strange.

Warnings — Failure dad, absent mother

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

You observed with a heavy heart as your father slumped onto the worn-out couch, his tired eyes scanning aimlessly through the channels, seeking solace in the flickering images that danced across the screen. The familiar routine had become a somber ritual ever since your mother's departure, leaving behind a palpable void in the once lively household.

You couldn't fault her for seeking refuge elsewhere, considering the tumultuous nature of your father's existence—a tumult that often mirrored the chaos of a raging inferno. Despite the turmoil, you couldn't help but yearn for the warmth and tenderness your mother once enveloped you in, like a comforting embrace during your tender years. Her absence loomed large, casting shadows of nostalgia and longing over the mundane moments of everyday life.

The room was engulfed in an oppressive silence, punctuated only by the relentless drone of the sports channel emanating from the television's speakers. Amidst the stifling stillness, your father's gravelly voice shattered the tranquility, his words slicing through the heavy air like a dull knife. Each syllable seemed weighed down by the burden of his existence, tinged with the stale odor of cigarette smoke that clung to his every exhale, staining the air with a sickly sweetness that made your stomach churn with disdain.

"Y'know my old buddy Chad?" His inquiry hung in the air, thick with the acrid tang of regret and longing, a bitter reminder of past connections that had soured over time. The mere mention of Chad ignited a simmering rage within you, a visceral reaction to the memory of a man whose arrogance eclipsed even the most brazen displays of confidence. Chad, with his smug demeanor and unwavering self-assurance, epitomized everything you despised in a person—a toxic amalgamation of conceit and entitlement that grated against your very core. The thought of him, swaggering through life with unchecked bravado, filled you with a potent cocktail of resentment and loathing, a sentiment that mirrored your disdain for the pungent stench of your father's breath and the bitter taste it left lingering on your tongue.

“Sadly.” You mumbled under your breath, putting down your phone.

“Well, he finally found me a wife!” Your father's booming voice reverberated through the house, brimming with an infectious excitement that seemed to electrify the very air around him. Wait, what? Chad found him a what?!

“You’re joking.”

"No! He said it’s absolutely real, plus it’s one of those European girls," your father declared with a sly wink, his tone laden with a hint of lasciviousness that left a bitter taste in your mouth. The subtle leer in his eye betrayed a lingering penchant for lewdness, a facet of his personality that never failed to incite your contempt and disdain.

"And he said that she should be here today," he stated proudly, his chest puffing out with a sense of accomplishment. The suddenness of the revelation caught you off guard, prompting a surge of incredulity to bubble within you.

"So you just bought a wife?" you queried, your voice laced with skepticism and a tinge of disapproval, unable to fathom the notion of acquiring companionship through such transactional means.

"Not exactly, apparently he has a buddy from his traveling days who was offering his daughter to someone rich. Great sob story though," your father explained, his tone tinged with a hint of cynicism as he recounted the dubious origins of this supposed arrangement. The mention of a wealthy stranger peddling his daughter as a commodity stirred a sense of unease within you, prompting a cascade of questions about the morality and ethics surrounding such transactions.

The sudden ring of the doorbell shattered the tense atmosphere, signaling the arrival of the anticipated guest. With an almost childlike eagerness, your father sprang from his seat, his footsteps echoing across the floorboards as he hurried to greet the visitor. As the door swung open, you caught your first glimpse of her—a striking figure adorned in luxurious attire, her long, brown locks cascading effortlessly down her shoulders. Despite her undeniable beauty, an air of unease settled over you as you realized that this poised woman standing before you was the embodiment of the arranged alliance your father had so eagerly embraced. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you resigned yourself to the inevitable complications that lay ahead.

“Salutări, numele meu este Wanda. Esti sotul meu?” The woman greeted, with your father just eagerly nodding along, most likely not even understanding her.

"I have no idea what you just said, but you are gorgeous," he declared boldly, his words dripping with unchecked admiration and a brazen disregard for propriety—a trait of your father's that never failed to incite a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation within you. The unabashed forwardness of his compliment served as a stark reminder of the stark contrast between his cavalier approach to social interactions and your own more reserved demeanor.

"Oh, sorry. I said that my name is Wanda, and are you my husband?" she translated, her voice carrying a gentle warmth as she offered a soft smile in response. Your father's eager nod and reciprocated smile seemed to mask an underlying sense of satisfaction, one that hinted at ulterior motives lurking beneath the surface—an unsettling realization that sent a shiver down your spine as you observed the exchange unfold before you.

"Why yes I am, and this is my dear precious daughter, Y/N," he proclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of forced enthusiasm as he introduced you to the stranger standing before you. The subtle nudge from your father prompted a strained smile to tug at the corners of your lips, though beneath the facade of pleasantries, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned within you—a tumultuous blend of resentment, apprehension, and reluctant compliance.

Wanda's lingering gaze bore into you with a curious intensity, her eyes probing beneath the surface to unravel the enigma that lay hidden within. The faint hint of intrigue reflected in her expression stirred a flutter of uncertainty within you, prompting a momentary self-reflection as you pondered the possibility of harboring hidden depths that had captured her interest. The notion of being perceived as intriguing by this stranger ignited a spark of curiosity, compelling you to reassess your own sense of identity and the mysteries that lay shrouded within your being.

“She does look like a precious little girl.” Wanda smiled, laughing.

The sudden rush of flustered unease enveloped you like a suffocating cloak, its oppressive weight pressing down upon your senses with a stifling intensity that left you reeling in discomfort. Unlike the whimsical tales of fanfiction where sparkles danced in the eyes of enigmatic strangers revealing their true identities as vampires, the reality of the situation was anything but romantic or fantastical. The notion of Wanda possibly being a vampire, while momentarily amusing, quickly faded into the background as the sheer embarrassment of the situation washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning out any fanciful musings with a stark reminder of your own vulnerability and discomfort.

Despite your father's insistence on giving Wanda a tour of the house, her gaze continued to stray in your direction, each glance feeling like a subtle yet probing exploration of your very essence. The intensity of her scrutiny seemed to linger on you like a weight, igniting a flicker of discomfort that danced along the edges of your consciousness.

The notion of her seemingly feeding off you with her eyes, while possessing an undeniable allure in a different context, now felt uncomfortably inappropriate given the newly formed familial dynamic. The juxtaposition of attraction and familial boundaries blurred into a disconcerting haze, leaving you grappling with a tumult of conflicting emotions and unsettling thoughts.

Despite your repeated protests and fervent attempts to dissuade your father from venturing into your private sanctuary, his relentless insistence persisted, leading the procession towards the one place you had hoped to shield from prying eyes.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you watched helplessly as he swung open the door to your bedroom, exposing the inner sanctum of your personal space to Wanda's curious gaze. The air hung heavy with a palpable sense of intrusion, as the boundaries of privacy blurred and the carefully curated refuge you had crafted for yourself lay vulnerable to the scrutiny of outsiders.

Wanda's gaze locked onto yours once more, her eyes alight with a mischievous glint that seemed to pierce through the veil of your embarrassment with unnerving precision. The knowing smirk that played upon her lips betrayed an acute awareness of your discomfort, a silent acknowledgment of the boundaries you had sought to uphold and the vulnerability you now found yourself exposed to.

As the evening unfolded, Wanda seamlessly integrated herself into the household, her presence casting a newfound sense of warmth and vitality over the once somber atmosphere. The tantalizing aroma of her culinary creations wafted through the air, filling the space with the enticing promise of a delectable feast. With each savory bite of the Romanian delicacy she had prepared, the rich flavors danced upon your palate, leaving a lingering impression of culinary excellence that spoke volumes of her culinary prowess.

Yet, amidst the conviviality of the dinner table, Wanda's unwavering gaze remained fixated upon you, a constant presence that seemed to defy explanation. The intensity of her scrutiny bore into you like a relentless tide, leaving you unsettled and acutely aware of the unspoken tension that lingered between you. With each passing moment, the weight of her gaze pressed down upon you, an unspoken question lingering in the air, begging to be addressed yet remaining shrouded in enigmatic silence.

[riacte]

Space Opera AU dashboard simulator

🥧 syrupstars Follow

Anyone else think that Red King racer is a little... y'know... fruity?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

He literally says "ladies, gentlemen, everyone in between, get in line" so I think that answers your question.

🥧 syrupstars Follow

What about the "#Ally4Life 🏳️‍🌈" on his Twilight handle?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

I genuinely have no idea. Maybe he thinks it's about him being an ally to cishet people

#idk ren's just like that sometimes #void knows what he's doing #also prev tags you do not want to get into the black hole of who ren has dated #he has rumours with 3/4 of the grid #edit: WHO MENTIONED BAD BOY TEENAGE REN IN MY NOTES #the shippers are here... oh no #edit 2: not ren at the club.

74 notes

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

oh my voiddd ofc That Duo got p1 again... i need them to dnf in the race. i hope they crash and burn and die and i need crastle to get podium for ONCE. i am so mad. i am calling for the goddess tsuki to curse them. dnf dnf crash burn DIE

🌻 lesbianlumian Follow

the goddess tsuki LITERALLY protects racers and that's why they pray to her? you think the goddess tsuki, creator of lumians, will curse an actual lumian? be so fucking fr

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

if you dont have anything productive to say get off my post. freak

#those blue bats stannies are SO ANNOYING THEY ARE EVERYWHERE #they're overshadowing all the other teams #cant even be a bitchy hater in peace #salt #negativity #hateposting

12 notes

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

OMG FALSE IS SO PRETTY SHES MY QUEEN OF HEARTS OMG OMGOMGOGM 💖💖💖💖💖💖 i tihnk im gonna pass out. HER HAIR FLYING IN THE WIND AND HER RED FRECKLES AND HER SMILE WHY IS MY HEART BEATING SO FAST and Ren is hot I guess he's tall like a ferris wheel

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Looking at posts from five years ago is funny like how did I ever believe I was straight

🍦 jelliepopsicle Follow

OP, I think I recognise your url... did you write that viral Bad Boy Ren x QoH fic on Launchpad?

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

💀 Shut the fuck up right NOWWW!!

#STOP MENTIONING THAT FIC I WFOTE WHEN I WAS THIRTEEEN!!! #everything before my gay awakening is not canon. sorry #tbh... as much as a nightmare it was i kinda miss that stupid fic #it was from a simpler time #now im in university trying to contact my groupmates and i think one of them got lost in a blackhole last tuesday (again) #sigh. this keeps on happening to me #my cousin worked on one of the moons last summer for two weeks and came back like he'd aged six months #my friend's ex got sucked into a black hole and was briefly spaghettified but they managed to revive her and she gloats that she's finally taller than my friend's ex #whoops sorry for dumping in the notes #anyways. bad boy rk x good girl queen of hearts. awful idea. even more awful fic. yet i wrote it #i regret everything and nothing

25 notes

🗣️ peace-and-planets-deactivated63891092

PSA: Sunblr user @/summerheavens writes RPF of the Exterra 1 racers. She is a big name fan in the Miraculous Laserbug fandom so I thought you all would like to know. This is gross and disgusting behaviour and I implore you to stop.

🍬 summerheavens Follow

umm @/peace-and-planets i literally saw your kudos on my fic. the evidence is out there. girl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament. what are you doing on my roseduo rpf titled "hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine (we're not trying)".

but i'm glad you liked it enough to give it a kudos ^_^ will certainly be putting more on the starchive!

❄️ justwingit Follow

LMFAOOOO OP DEACTIVATEDDDDD 😭😭😭 sunblr user got killed by a rpf author. if you're gonna secretly read rpf maybe not leave a kudos?????

🚀 exterrablrheritage

Exterra 1 Heritage Post

⚡ littlewoodbabygirl69

It's been ten years since this post... @/summerheavens are you okay after recent developments

🍬 summerheavens Follow

am i okay? is ANYONE okay??? in these trying times??????? with the most chaotic gp to ever exist?????? i am PULLING OUT WIPS i dropped out of respect ten years ago. i've got to send my kid to daycare but once i'm done you bet you're seeing me on the starchive. miss swift even dropped her 20th album just in time for me to use lyrics as titles. i am LIVING and i am THRIVING

#ohhhhhhhhhh #let's go #also can't believe taylor finally addressed the vehicle manslaughter rumours from like twenty years ago #how fitting #also littlewood needs to get his shit together #why does he look like he's the one who hasn't seen his man in 32738102371 years and got his soul shattered #he's weak and won't survive the winter

27,408 notes

🧈 butteredbread Follow

WHAT is wrong with that lykos. i desire him carnally

🌳 treebark

@/handoftheking

🪓 handoftheking

I mean... yeah. Let's face it, we're all like that 🤷

⭐ nonbinarystar Follow

MR LITTLEWOOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

#WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM #I HATE HIM SO MUCH #PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS CAN ALSO BE ABOUT HATE #THIS GLOWSTICK MF IS MY WORST ENEMY #he just canonised treebark for the sixth time #also prev tags so real #need to slingshot him into a faraway galaxy

34,091 notes

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

Who put that Just a Dream FalseRen AMV on my dash again

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Respect your roots!! That 125M views Just a Dream AMV raised a generation. Every kid in my school played it on loop on their ipods during recess

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

wait op can you explain your url

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

No 👍

#i think we should get the dogwarts freighter pregnant

6 notes

[neverchecking]

hello! would it be possible to request yandere sage to a reader who got split from the chain but has a switch with them?

I adore your headcanons for him and I honestly would just love to see some more of him, perhaps he's trying to figure out if they're yiga or not since y'know only they see him as link without zelda and they just show it off reluctantly?

SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE-YOU ABSOLUTELY FUCKING CAN.

Ahem. Yes, you very much can request my precious baby boy.

For those of you who don't know, Sage is the Hero of the Zonai, A.K.A. The Link from Tears of the Kingdom-- if we go down the route that he's a different guy from Wild. So TotK spoilers.

Anyway, look whose got his own banner! SAGE DOES-

CW: Talk of death, but nothing happens (Bc Sage won't let it happen)

He was very...unsure of you, to put it lightly.

Which was rare in and of itself since he knew most things. He knew how the Gloom hands would react should he hit them with a Dazzlefruit. He knew the exact force he would have to throw a splash fruit for it to burst in a splash of water. He knew the exact amount of force required to bend a Yiga's arm before it snaps a lot.

But he didn't know anything about you. Which put him on edge.

You came out of this weird...void thingy that he had never seen before and you dressed weirdly. You had began to call out desperately for names the second you had collected yourself (He had no clue who Wild or Twilight or Wind were, but whoever named those poor fools needed to be fired. Those names were awful.) . He watched you stumble like a newborn fawn, full of naive innocence and blind trust in the world around you.

What a fool you were.

Still, he couldn't look away. He didn't move from his place perched in a particularly tall tree, but he didn't let his attention wander from you. He couldn't. It was like you were...magnetic, drawing him in to your orbit just to keep him there.

Somewhere above him, the light dragon let out a warble. His ears flickered in that general direction, but otherwise he paid it no mind, clicking the claws on Rauru's hand against the bark of the tree.

You seemed so hopelessly lost, wandering about. It certainly didn't seem like you were the traveling type, so why you were out here, he had no idea. You would killed before long. He wondered how you would die. Something fast and quick? An electric arrow from a Lizalfos? (They had been getting unexplainably stronger now that he thought about it.) Maybe one swift hit from a Horriblin? Or maybe it would be something long and drawn out. Maybe a Frost Gleeok would freeze you so badly Hypothermia took over your limbs before freezing your lungs. Or maybe a Fire Gleeok would roast you alive before you even had the chance to register they were there. Perhaps the King himself would do both before shocking your battered form to hell and back. Or maybe the Gloom hands would grab at your flailing arms and legs, holding you still while they drained the life force right out of you.

Something full of anger lit up in his gut at just the thought of you getting hurt. He had no reason to get so livid at even a scratch on your form, but for some reason it had him snarling to himself, as if daring the universe to test him.

He wouldn't put it past Hylia at this point, that vengeful bitch.

It seemed she took his challenge to heart anyway, just as you slipped out some strange device about the same size as his Purah pad. You were so immersed in the damned thing that you didn't even hear one of the trees moving around behind you. Which was beyond him since they weren't quiet.

You didn't even look up until the shadow was looming over you and he was jumping from his tree. Riju's power sparked to life as he pulled out his bow, stunning the tree with enough power it fell with a pull of purple smoke. Something began leaking out of the discarded log, black and viscous, as it always seemed to do these days. It didn't make any difference to him, they all died the same anyway.

You had fallen onto your ass as he approached, watching him like prey would watch the predator. Nothing but wide eyes leaking with fear as he loped upon you. It made his gut swing with something foreign as he eyed you. He wasn't stupid. He knew the Yiga would go to some, frankly, extraordinary lengths to have his head on a stick. Whose to say they wouldn't set up some form of act where they attacked each other just to garner his attention?

He held out his weapon towards you, the Lynel horn glinting in the light as it prodded against your neck. You vulnerable and fragile little neck. You looked like you were about to cry at the action.

Unrelated, he pulled back just a bit. His snarl remained just the same. "Who are you?" He barked, daring you to avoid his question. Your...device was discarded at your side, which you quickly grappled onto as some form of protection. He'd have to remain weary of that. If it was anything like his Purah pad, it would be of an annoyance. Especially if you were a Yiga. They were able to replicate the Thunder Helm for Din's sake. (That was a mess and a half to retrieve.)

You swallowed hard, wincing away from him before fighting the urge to look up at him. His heart stuttered at the positively broken look you showed. You were so scared and so frightened.

He was supposed to be a hero.

(A part of him argued that he was the hero. Had been the hero. And look where it got him? Right back at the start. Fighting for his life once more. Fighting for someone who wouldn't do the same for him. Fighting for a Goddess who only used him as a pawn only to discard him when he was done.)

There was no way you were Yiga. You couldn't have been. None of them would've ever looked up at him like that. Nor could you have been a puppet of Ganon. Puppets and Yiga would burst out into an offensive attack the second they caught sight of him.

You didn't pose a threat.

But that didn't clear your name. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer." He allowed ultrahand to light up Rauru's arm in a warning red.

You blinked before shakily swallowing, holding your device to your chest. "...Y/N."

So that was your name. It was a nice name. Suited your features well and rolled off the tongue. Each syllable seemed built for your very being. He repeated it, using the tip of his weapon to tilt your chin up to face him again. That same, Goddess damned, look was sprawled on your features as he looked over you. You didn't seem injured outside of a bandaged wrap around your lower neck and left shoulder.

You had been hurt. Perhaps it was under that Wild's watch, whoever they were. They were unfit to care for you it seemed. He would happily take over if it meant you didn't get hurt any longer.

"You're...Link, right?"

He blinked, weapon staggering for a second. How did you know who he was? No one knew who he was anymore. Not without that wretched Zelda beside him, giving him a title he felt disgraced his very being. The swordsman. it was all Mineru called him and it burned something bitter in him.

He pushed the weapon further against your skin, watching it turn a harsh red before flashing to white. "What's it to you?" His teeth were bared as you tried to pull away, if only to breath just a little. He didn't let you. While it made his gut rot and knot at the thought of hurting you, he couldn't risk his own life. Not when he had a duty, Not when he had a vengeance. A vendetta.

"I can explain!" You hurriedly called, making him pull back once again.

"I would do so quickly."

You shook in your spot as your showed him the device. It seemed to have a selection of boxes, each holding a different picture. The one you hovered over read something in a language he couldn't read, but there was a picture of him. Right there. This was your explanation? It was pitiful. He almost did away with you, if only to move on, but you spoke before he could.

"You're Link. The wielder of the Master Sword. I- I'm from some other world. I, along with a group of others, are travelling to fight a dark magic that has been effecting many Hyrules across time. It's evidently effected yours." You gestured to the log, which now had an inky puddle beneath it. "We're here to help."

He pulled the weapon away, but didn't raise his glare from your form. "I don't need help."

"I never said you did." You let out a sigh full of relief. "But sometimes having someone watch your back is nice. I know you haven't had that person for you, which breaks my heart. This adventure is your second, third if we count...Ya'know..." You trailed off as his eyes narrowed. Were you talking about the Calamity? The Calamity he fell to? "You haven't had help, which I can only imagine as exhausting."

You were speaking nonsense. Nonsense that made him bubble with understanding of a sort. It was a clumsy attempt, but you were trying to offer support to him. Support he had never had previously.

He could kick his past (Three minutes ago) self for ever dreaming of hurting you, even if it was for his own personal safety. The thought of having someone offer just a tad bit of help to his battered and broken from, riddled with gloom, had him feeling a bit lighter.

He wouldn't trust you right away, he had gotten burned one too many times from doing that, but he would get you to a stable. Ensure you were safe from infection and whatever else before he made a decision regarding you and him in any sort of capacity.

Maybe take you to your group if only to see if those filth were worthy of your presence.

He would ensure you were safe in his, nevertheless. If he had to do away with the others, then so be it.

If he wanted to keep something, he would need to cling to it.

And this was just the start of his grip on you. Whether you knew it yet, or not.

[lttleghostlemon]

Important ask. Evening. Good Omens fandom. (and cbs ghosts fandom)

Now, this post is not good omens related. "Why tf are you posting in the good omens tag then" you ask. Well- I have a very important request of the good omens fandom. Fandom help Fandom y'know.

Now I'm not just picking a random fandom, I've loved Good Omens for a few years now, being one of the many to await every little scrap we could get before s2 came out, and watching it and planning a little party the day s2 was released. I've made countless bits of fanart you can find...mainly on my insta cause I didn't have tumblr at the time.

Having been in the good omens fandom. I know it is a lot bigger than the BBC Ghosts fandom. The BBC Ghosts fandom has..maybe up to 100 people active here on tumblr. Majority of the posts you'll see in the tag are the same like 15 people including me. So...not many

It has a big following, but small fandom. I can't speak how it is over on twitter since I don't have twitter, but I can also assume its small.

THERE IS A POINT TO THIS POST!!!

Yesterday (April 3rd) a new "Lego ideas"..post? Was put up and its a Lego set of the house seen in BBC Ghosts. And I was hoping to get some Good Omeners to help with the support of it.

Its gotten 1,460 supporters within the first 24 hours which is- crazy. And it has over a year and a half to reach its goal!! But...the goal number is 10,000. And like I said, small fandom, so not many Ghosticles have heard the news. With BBC Ghosts ending its show this past year, and with only 1 official piece of merchandise (well we do have the dvds i suppose pff) it would be fucking wonderful to have a chance of getting this set, as this show has meant a lot to me over the past 3 years I've enjoyed it.

So i am hopefully sending this post into the tumblr void in hopes that fandom can help fandom and add some support to this project and to maybe make it real one day :]!

An account is free, clicking supporting is free- no cost anywhere in sight. Reblogging is also free....just saying

[mentat2gh0ul]

I DID IT I WROTE A LITTLE SOMETHING PLEASE GO EASY ON ME THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME IN ALMOST A DECADE AND I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Hah-- y'know, I get ya want to travel in the discretion of the night... but did we really have to go through a fucking swamp? I ain't got a clue where I'm going here but whatever I'm stepping on, ough- I'm sure it's long-dead by the stench of it."

It's has been now a couple months since Hancock had convinced himself to temporarily hang the hat as mayor of Goodneighbor. The scheme put in place by Bobbi no Nose hit him worse than a chem withdrawal-- well, no, not really, but it left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and a realization: he had to get out there. The thought hadn't crossed him before the drifter's gambit but now it dawned on him that, perhaps, the view from his balcony up above was getting too cozy and, consequently, felt like he was losing touch of what reality is out there in the Commonwealth.

Luckily for him, every cloud has a silver lining and in his case, it came at his doorstep in the form of a vault dweller with a lot of baggage on their shoulders. In an apocalyptic world such as this everybody got their problems, but the way they handled their own caught his eye so much so that he decided to join them in their singular quest without too many questions being asked.

So here he was, squelching his boots sluggishly through the mud to keep pace with them whilst the fetor of death overwhelmed whatever sense of smell he still had; however the vault dweller, within the safety of their bulky power armor, managed to advance with ease through the sludge and make a path for him to follow; the only light in the darkness of the night being the bright yellow beam from their helmet as they scoured their surroundings. They didn't seem to be the talkative type but Hancock appeared unbothered by it, as their actions spoke more to him than anything else... how rare it is for one to understand the way of the world and still behave human? The ghoul pondered; a glimmer sparked in the dark voids that were his eyes, contemplating the sole survivor's imposing frame which stood before him. It suddenly felt like a knot tightened in his throat which gave him the urge to swallow, a warmth then stirred from his gut and flooded through him making the grip his hands had on his trusty shotgun unsteady. These unfamiliar feelings and racing thoughts overwhelmed him to the point to make his stride teeter...

Crack

And with that sound, he felt the pull of reality yanking him back in. His gaze darted downward and there he saw it: the cracked shell of a Mirelurk egg right beneath his sole accompanied by a pair eggs which sat unharmed right beside. "Shit--" he cursed under his breath as if it could prevent, although helplessy, what immediately followed; two hatchlings bursted out of their spawn to attack but, despite Hancock's momentary unreadiness, he quickly came to his senses and all he needed was to pull the trigger twice to make the newborn crustaceans fly into pieces; the sole survivor had just the time to turn and point their gun before everything was already over.

"Don't ya worry, I'm good." The ghoul reassured them with a confident smirk on his lips, before his attention turned downward to wipe the Mirelurk gunk that stained his trousers with a slight disgust on his face. "Ah-- fucking crabs... well, guess it ain't the first time I've had dealt with those." He chuckled briefly after he spoke, confirming his innuendo to the sole survivor which in response stared at their companion silently; the blank expression of their helmet didn't quite let on what they were thinking but Hancock could tell that they must have playfully rolled their eyes at his comment- I mean, c'mon that was chuckle worthy or so he thought to himself. Their playful stare short lived though due to something having caught the quiet one's attention; the horizon now have tinged itself in an orange glow and the warmth of the sun begun to rise through... it was finally dawn.

The light peeking through the skyline reached his scarred skin like a comforting carress; even with all the uncertainties this fucked up land were to offer, at the very least, the sun always rose everyday... and ain't that reassuring enough? He gave a glance at his towering companion as they seemed drawn by something such as simple as the rising of the sun and wondering if they too thought the same as him- but then, a twinkle from below stopped his thought in its tracks. Hancock's eyes slowly drifted downward and it was like well placed left hook hit him in the gut: it was his reflection.

As the sky begun to turn brighter, it became even more clearer despite the filthy water which funcioned as mirror laid beneath him. His reflection stared right at him the same way he stared right at it... in aversion. Now, he didn't regret it one bit. He have had the trip of his life and the near-immortality was more than appreciated but, he couldn't deny what he had done to himself. It was never a constant thought in his head but every time, even if few, that he was reminded of it, it made his heart sink in his chest... he was now a face he could recognize and call his own but not one he would ever grow fully accustomed to. A pained expression grew on his features as he silently mantained eye contact with his mirrored image, his teeth clenched slightly behind his lips.

Ain't quite the handsome devil I used to be, huh?

And just before his self-deprecating could continue, something in his periferal snapped him out of it and turned his attention to it. The sight that stood before him made the ghoul's eyes widen subtly in surprise as his breath got caught in his throat; it was his quiet traveling companion with now their helmet held under their arm and their unroughed visage exposed to the polluted air- they seemed to be simply scrutinizing the environment ahead of them for a possible way foward. Hancock had seen their face before but now, with their smooth skin shaded by the tangerine colored sunlight, it stirred an foreign feeling from his very heart as he admired them utterly mesmerized by their apperance... they looked like the people on those old, tattered pre-war posters you would often find still hang up because, despite being so unfamiliar to the common folk today, it would still somewhat bring a sense of bittersweet nostalgia... even if unaware of what it truly was like back then. The vault dweller held a beauty from a world long gone- well kept, tidy and confident aura about them with just a pinch of glee but, unlike the world, they have been untouched by the destruction of the bombs that fell... they were right in front of him in the flesh... wondering if-- maybe... if he...

Before his mind could take him to unknown places, the reflection of him that laid on the puddle beneath his boots was like a smack right across the face and made it all dawn down on him. His gaze softened at the discomfort from the sight of his disfigured face as a small smile ached on his lips.

Nah, what the hell were you even thinkin'? No one would wanna wake up to this ugly mug every morning... fuck- wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not them.

His head sunk between his shoulders as he condemned himself through his inner monologue. Through his ghoulification he killed a part of himself he desperately wanted to run away from... and for that, he had no regret but through the same process he lost something he will never get back- the possibility to find a sense of belonging with someone which, admittedly, didn't give a thought about before meeting them... before this almost fated encounter with the sole survivor there was no one that awakened such thoughts in him and now, with it within his reach, he couldn't grasp it-- and never will, he remarked in his mind.

Before his self-hate could consume him whole where he stood, he heard the feeble sounds of his quiet companion placing the helmet back on their head; he looked over to them and they looked right back causing him to questioningly raise his brow. The vault dweller said nothing but with a small nodding of their head to the side they seemed to suggest to him that this is the way they will head towards now. The ghoul in response nodded in agreement to their request.

"Yeah, gotcha-- right behind ya, partner."

And with that, their stride towards their destination reccomenced. Hancock left behind him his denigrative thoughts as he walked, stepping on the same puddle that mirrored his reflection in the process. Despite his self-depreciative nature, he was quick to get back on his feet because in the big scheme of things it did NOT matter how he felt and what he felt-- he was but a speck in vastity of chaos in the wasteland and if with their help he could do something good, really good then... I guess it's worth the heartache.

[enigmatist17]

Angel notices it right off the bat.

It's been a good year or so since he'd last seen Joyce, and he's not particularly surprised she's still terrified of him. Angelus had done too much harm for Angel to overcome, so the general initial discomfort of his return to help Buffy for a while wasn't unexpected.

Joyce moving so that Spike of all people was between herself and the older vampire, however, was surprising.

"Don't worry love, he won't 'urt you." Spike smirked, blue and hazel eyes tracking each other without a blink as Angel stands beside Buffy.

"Since when did you care?" It's petty, sure, and Spike only snorts.

"You know, most people find it rude to insult someone when you've been out of town for a while." Joyce chided, finally feeling safe enough to stand out from behind Spike. "Spike has been a lovely guest."

"You 'ear that? Lovely." The younger looks as smug as he possibly can, and Angel wants to just punch him.

"For some unknown reason, Mom has been letting him stay here." Buffy grumbles from her spot in the kitchen, and Angel would have had a heart attack if his heart still beat.

"Y-You just let him live here?!"

"Well, when you're a neutered vampire, kinda takes the whole concern of him killing out of the picture, you know?" The Slayer shrugged, and Spike growls as Joyce put her hand over her face.

"Neutered?" Angel raised an eyebrow.

"Before anyone decides to throw curses around, Dawn is upstairs." Joyce sighs, cutting off the Brit who was now flipping Buffy off. "Buffy, why don't you escort Angel to...wherever he's staying, and we can catch up tomorrow evening."

"Okay..." For a moment everyone awkwardly stares at each other before Spike breaks it by slinging an arm around Joyce's shoulders with a grin.

Angel's eyes go wide, the blonde just waggling his eyebrows.

"C'mon bird, it's almost Passions time." The older woman seemed to be relieved at that, retrieving a forgotten bag of popped popcorn from the microwave as Angel rolled his eyes.

"Of course she watches Passions."

"Mhm." Spike grinned as he and Joyce left the kitchen, the older vampire eyeing the protective arm around Joyce, who doesn't seem to understand what Spike had just done in front of his grandsire.

"Angel?" Buffy clears her throat, glancing between Angel and the living room. "You okay?"

"....when you say neutered..?"

The drive to the hotel wasn't long, and Buffy shrugged as she slipped into the passenger seat. The tale of the Initiative fills the void during the drive, and by the time they've reached his temporary home, Angel is as angry as he is amused.

"Why are you doing that laughing thing?" Buffy pestered after Angel checked in, sitting on top of the trunk with her arms crossed.

"My what?"

"Your, y'know, the face you do when you're trying not to laugh about something."

Angel raised an eyebrow as Buffy slid off the trunk, grabbing his bags of essentials before locking up for the night.

"You..." Angel can't hold back the laugh that bursts from his mouth, and the Slayer is looking confused as they entered his room. He laughs again the moment the door closes, Buffy rolling her eyes as the vampire works himself into a fit of giggles.

"I don't understand why you're being so weird about Spike hanging around my mother."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Angel coughed, grin still playing on his lips as Buffy took a seat on the bed. "It's just so obvious."

"What is?" Buffy crossed her arms, Angel joining her with a soft smile.

"When he put his arm around your mother in front of me? He just basically claimed her, and the fact that it's your mother with his history is...unsurprising."

"He did what to my mother?" Buffy's voice is strained as she stared at Angel, who gently took one of her hands and squeezed.

"This may sound weird coming from me about Spike of all things, but it's very rare when a vampire claims a human without turning them. It's an ultimate sign that they care for whoever is claimed, and being a Master will ward off danger from low ranking demons...which is 90% of Sunnydale's inhabitants." Angel paused as he struggled for the words, Buffy looking a touch relaxed as she returned the squeeze. "How long has he been living with you?"

"Ever since he escaped the Initiative, or well, a few weeks after that? Mom found him near her work one night pretty weak, and despite my many, many, many protests brought him home, and he just kind of never left."

"When did you find out he was...neutered?" Angel cringed at the word, and Buffy bites back whatever sound tried to make its way out of her throat. "I am not calling it that."

"Pretty quick, I may or may not have lashed out, and he blacked out when he blocked one of my attacks. The chip in his head gives his entire brain a shock if he does anything to harm humans."

"That's why I'm back?"

"Yep." They sit in silence for a minute before Angel looks over, lips twitching in an amused smirk.

"So, they both are Passions fans huh?"

"Don't get me started!"

[ilovejoll]

Oh no Kenzie is spewing his thoughts.....

Y'know, I never really understood the hate towards player/SOUL in delta rune. They didn't ask to be attached to Kris. Hell, they didn't even really have a say on who they wanted to be attached to as their vessel was tossed into the void.

Kris probably doesn't even hate the player as much as the fandom portrays them to. They probably don't like being controlled, yes, but if that was truly the case, then why does Kris always put SOUL back after tearing them out?

If Kris has such an ability to where they can remove SOUL and move freely without input, why put them back after doing what they wanted for a brief moment of time? It just doesn't make sense to me, it feels like Kris just wants a moment of being out of SOUL's input. and it makes me think Kris and SOUL have a more...venom relationship than anything else. (Kind of,,,)

Why would Kris make a dark fountain in there house if they didn't want SOUL to control them? Clearly, they don't mind to some degree, cuz their life has been so much more exciting ever since SOUL appeared. SOUL even made them friends, which Kris is probably grateful for. Cuz it's clear that Kris is seen as the weird kid due to them being the only human in a town filled with monsters, SOUL made them make friends with a monster they were afraid of (Susie) and even made them a hero in some way (in the darkworld at least.) They are no longer a 'nobody' because of SOUL.

Kris only REALLY becomes the victim in the snowgrave route. There, SOUL is making them do things they don't want to do. Such as killing enemy's, harming Noelle mentally and even physically, and worst of all, literally MURDERING Berdly; who is indeed one of their friends despite their ongoing rivalry. This is where the player hate is justified, they're torturing other characters through their host, Kris, just to see what would happen. That's where you could view the player as evil as they are intentionally making Kris' friends suffer, along with Kris themself. This is where I can see Kris not liking, or even downright hating the player, and wanting to be out of their control permanently.

But it any other route, like the pacifist or normal route, I just don't think it makes sense for Kris to hate SOUL/player. Kris isn't a victim in those routes, they're just the host, the puppet they obviously don't mind being (and, I know after the spamton neo fight, Kris gets uneasy and scared about being a puppet for player, and while yes, their fear is rightly justified considering what happened to spamton. I just don't see them taking it into too much consideration after being comforted by Susie and Ralsei, especially if the player had been peaceful and nonviolent thus far.)

Most others say that player makes Kris do things they don't want to. Which is...just...not true. In snowgrave, yes, player makes Kris do things they do not want to do, but in a normal or pacifist route that is just not true. I'm going to take hugging Ralsei for example. It's implied that the choices given to the player are options that Kris would most likely do or say anyway, but it's player who makes the final decision for them. So, Kris WOULD hug Ralsei, or do any of the things given in the tunnel of love scenes, but player is the one who decides which actions are final, but all the actions and words are implied to be what Kris would do or say anyway without players direct input. Does that....make sense? I feel like I'm overexplaining but I really want to get my point across.

I'm gonna stop here, cuz I don't want to continue rambling or want this post to get too long. But in short, Kris is not the victim, they only become one in snowgrave. They probably don't even want player to leave now since they think they'll become a 'nobody' again without their input. player isn't making Kris do anything they don't want to (Unless, it's snowgrave, as I said many times now lol.) Kris and player probably don't have the BEST relationship, obvs, but they definitely don't hate each other or want the other gone.

But, that's just my thoughts, tell me what you think, if you made it thus far that is ^w^

[shrimplymoray]

This is... Very much self-indulgent and for my own comfort right now. So, excuse anything that may be off, or a bit OOC. TW: Apathy crisis, existential crisis.

Cronus Ampora x Reader - Apathy

Cronus was never the smartest fish in the sea when dealing with people, especially when it is other's feelings. He may seem like the emotional type of guy (he has cried multiple times for human love songs), but dealing with others is way out of his league. He - and the rest of the Beforus trolls for that matter - keep wondering how he managed to actually score one. He was used to shooting his shot at others and missing by well over a mile, so his oh-so-not-smooth flirts actually hitting a soft spot for you made him lose his composure, and get fidgety. An adorable view, truly. Though in past times his bluntness and lack of emotional knowledge never affected you, it seemed as though fate had other plans. Apathy. Something all 13 of you have become used, almost acquaintances to. Sadly, being used does not mean it is easy to deal with. Some of you, like Meulin and Rufioh, have mastered the art of surrounding yourself with others to get better. Latula and Porrim tend to dive into hobbies to lessen the effects. You? Oh... Even after what seemed like thousands of years, it is a mystery what actually helps you. That is why, this time, Cronus went too far for you. It was simple, you were faking till you got better, but he ran his mouth too much. "Heyy~ hot stuff, are ya mad at somefin? Did'ya stub yer toes? Ya so dry it shorelly must'vwe been somefin goin' on." A pause, and an answer "I don't know what you're talking about Cro." "Huh? C'mon, bae~ Lemme guess... Meenah talked shit 'bout yer hair?" "Is... there something with my hair?" "wvah- NONONO! No it, uh, it looks as great as ya! Like alwvays, I just, uh, y'knowv howv she can get, haha!" You knew he was not trying to make you mad, yet... He didn't seem charming when being a dork, this time. Your pause, the look in your void white eyes that stared at his, and your look at the distance. That showed him something really was up. And also that he fucked up big time by running his mouth today. "Hey... Hey, look at me." "What?" "Y'knowv ya can trust me, right? Ya been here for me, wvhat good of a matesprit wvould I be if I didn't do the same?" ... "It's the... the thing, again. This stupid thinkpan of mine can't seem to co-work with my bloodpumper. It's like... Y'know how, like, sometimes the reality hits us? that... that we are gonna be here, forever. We will never grow old, travel the world, or... or have a life, again. We are stuck in the bubbles, and we don't have a future ahead of us anymore. Any... certainty we had once, from the moment our session ended, it will never occur, like, ever again." "Wvoah..." It took a while, the two of you staring at the abyss, on the edge of the dreambubble you two have been sitting on, a special place for you, as this is one of your bubbles. No one said anything. You couldn't feel uncomfortable, at that moment. The lack of emotions took a deep toll on you, but you instinctively looked at Cronus. When he looked at you, however, he didn't seem worried. Or afraid. He took his goofy fake 'human' cigarette put it on the corner of his mouth, and gave you his side grin. Not the smug one, the one he puts whenever he is really confident about what he is going to say. "I mean, ya not wvrong, by any means but... heh... Do ya think it is bad? I mean, hey! Wve are gonna be all here forevwer, so that means wve can at least, like, be together for eternity or wvathevwer. I used to be pretty damn bad wvith these apathy shellnanigans but... I'm not really that afraid anemonemore. I havwe the best fuckin' matesprit in the wvhole 'bubbles and, like, I'm pretty damn shore I can live the rest of a boring eternity if I havwe ya to make it interestin'!" As you two stared to the far, far void of nothing, outside the bubble, you instinctively reached a hand on top of his, which, as always, sent his face into a violet blush mess, and managed to drag a smile and chuckle out of you. "Can't complain with that, really."

[swagmagussupreme]

@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose in Bloom, Day 5: Fantasy AU

Jk it's the lazing in bed one. I've written 200k words of Whiterose fantasy AU lol, if you wanna read that, go here:

No content warnings for this one, just pure short fluff since work is On Some Bull Shit ™️ today. So without further ado:

Words: 879

Ruby hated Huntress’ Sprint. She hated infinity-scrollers in general because she should be studying instead of playing them. Alas, here she was.

The door slammed open. Ruby jolted, peering over the edge of her hanging bunk.

It was Weiss, her face bright red and eyes puffy. Ruby watched her shamble to the bunk below, then flop face-first onto the mattress, groaning. The team leader stayed where she was, despite the way her heart ached with sympathy— Weiss preferred distance. The amount of physical affection Ruby had gotten her used to was already a miracle. Weiss groaned.

Ruby leaned over the edge of her bed, ignoring the way it creaked. “Weiss? What happened?”

The heiress simply groaned.

“Was it Cardin?”

Surprisingly, Weiss shook her head.

“Oh. What was it, then? Did you get a surprise test or something?”

Weiss mumbled something into her mattress.

“Huh?”

Weiss patted her bed.

Ruby blinked. “What?”

Weiss aggressively patted her bed.

Tentatively, Ruby fell out of her bunk and smashed her entire idiot face directly on the floor, her features saved only by the grace of her Aura. That didn't make it painless. “Owwwwwww,” she moaned, peeling herself off the scratchy carpet. She found Weiss’ eyes staring more bemused than concerned, and tried her best disarming smile, which disarmed Weiss enough for her to flop her face back down into the mattress. “You… want me to sit with you?”

Weiss mumbled. Ruby took it as an affirmative— a denial would've been fervent and straight to her face— and crawled into the bed, sitting criss-cross beside her partner's head. Her hair was a mess.

Weiss dared to put a hand on her head, which didn't elicit any opposition. “What happened? You can tell me— n-not like you have to!” she hastily added. “Just, like, you can. If you want. I'm here to listen if you're here to speak. I'm also just… here. In case you don't want to speak. I can…” Ruby slowly moved her hand on Weiss’ head, stroking it in the same way mom used to do for her. “I can do this and be quiet. If you want. Y'know.”

Weiss’ head moved up, and Ruby immediately jerked her hand away, fearing vindication for overstepping their boundaries. A million apologies lined up behind Ruby's lips.

They all vanished when Weiss blearily grabbed her wrist and plopped her hand right back where it was, moving it back and forth demandingly. Everything in Ruby's throat died, leaving a hollow void that crept all the way to her chest. Nervous giddiness started to dance between her lungs.

“I had combat exams with Jaune today,” she groaned. “He beat me.”

Ruby rocked forwards to keep herself from recoiling back, which probably would've hurt Weiss feelings. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

The sky was green. Water was dry. Jaune Arc had beaten Weiss Schnee.

“How?” traitorously seeped past Ruby’s lips, which got a glare from Weiss. She didn't move the hand away, though, which was progress.

“Ruby, he threw me,” Weiss stated, her voice distant with horrified recollection. “He rushed me, slid over my ice— somehow— and he grabbed me around the waist and fucking threw me!” She weakly pantomimed such a toss. “I was so surprised I just… I couldn't get up in time and he got me. He got me. Me.”

Weiss sniffled, her hand dropping from Ruby’s wrist. Instinctively, the scythe-wielder’s hand moved to cup the back of her head, thumb gently rubbing her crown. “It happens to all of us,” she advised. “It's only our first year, there's plenty left to surprise us.”

“It's not supposed to happen to—” the heiress bit her lip, her shoulders hitching as she visibly held back a sob. Noticing this, Ruby let her hand drift down to Weiss’ back, where she patted between the shoulder blades. That opened the floodgates. “It doesn't happen to me-he-heeeeeee,” Weiss bawled, punching the mattress. “He— he’s just… a guy! Literal vomit-boy!” She wailed. “And I’m a scion of the Schnees! I— I got— f-fucking tackled, Ruby! There's gonna be videos everywhere!”

Ruby stared at her partner, mesmerized. She'd never seen Weiss open up like this, not to her, and she'd certainly never been allowed this close when she got so touchy. It felt a little wrong, almost, like she wasn't supposed to see this. “It… it's not okay now,” she tried to say smoothly. “But it will be. I promise.”

Weiss looked up at her, glaring wetly, snot dribbling down her nose. Her voice came out hoarse and thick. “What're you gonna do about it, huh?”

Ruby smiled at her. “We'll do more sparring, some hand-to-hand, even. I know I've been focusing on Crescent Rose too much, I need to focus on improving our skills. Together.”

Weiss grimaced.

“Next time he tries to tackle you, you're gonna be the one throwing him, okay?” Ruby moved her hand back to Weiss’ head. “I'll make sure of it, as your partner.”

“Not as our leader?” the heiress said, pouting bitterly.

Ruby schooled a serious expression over her face, her other hand moving to take Weiss’ with fervor. “No. As your partner.”

Weiss’ eyes went wide. She stared at Ruby. Ruby stared back. Through the crust of pain and tears and snot, Weiss blushed.

[astranite]

CH1 Coming Home Loudly

John isn't okay because it sure is lonely up in space. Scott follows through on his promises; he's here for his brothers and nothing, not even the distance between Earth and Thunderbird Five could stop him. Gordon is also Making Sure This Happens. --After suffering in silence, John comes home.

This fic follows @janetm74 's Suffering In Silence which I love. So much. This is about the emotions and the hugs and coming home.

Also thank you to the amazing art and inspiration of @lenle-g !!!

---

Scott powered down Thunderbird Three’s engines as he docked with Five and the clamps engaged, anchoring the two Thunderbirds together. John's voice was calm over the radio when he granted them permission to dock. It was so perfectly calm, without even a tremble to break the illusion that he had everything together, to the point it came out flat. Scott winced. Beneath it all John sounded completely exhausted. 

Gordon had been quiet most of the flight but for terse navigational directions, focused to point of singularity on why they were here. Around them, the metal hull of the rocket ticked and snapped as it cooled, adjusting to the lack of engines firing as they were left floating in the cold, unforgiving, lonely void of space. Scott shuddered, averting his gaze from the viewports to the stars. Nope, give him his blue skies any day of the week.

He jiggled his foot beneath the dash in a rapid tempo, hand bouncing on his knee in time. The anger that had flared up at his father while defending John had fled, leaving him with only restless worry. It filled him to the brim where thoughts about their father and their discussion turned argument, about Alan, and most importantly in this moment of John intermixed with flight plans and overflowed into movement.

Gordon shifted in his seat, picking up on Scott's emotions, ever in tune with everyone else. His mission focus snapped as he twisted around in his seat.

Hey Scotty, are you gonna explode?" he burst out. "'Cause you seem like you're about to."

The tap tap tap of Scott's leg shaking sounded too loud in the rocket's cabin. He was probably driving Gordon mad with it like it did their father when Scott got impatient in a meeting. Scott pressed his foot to the floor, forcing himself to go still. 

"Sorry Gordo, I'm all good," Scott muttered as the airlocks clunked together and begun to pressurise achingly slowly.

At least picking at the outer leg seam of his uniform with his fingers was less disruptive and obvious when he couldn't help the need to move. 

Gordon rolled his eyes. "I didn't say you had to stop, I just want to know how you're going. Y'know with everything."

"So now you ask me about my day?" Scott snarked back as he resumed bouncing his leg. 

He wouldn't say it was a relief Gordon didn't care, but it was. His brother was now mimicking his jittering but bigger and louder because this was Gordon he was talking about. He was probably also doing it to show Scott that it was okay.

"You seemed pretty wound up after your chat with dear old dad even by the time I came in,” Gordon said.

"How did you—? I didn't tell you we spoke."

Gordon counted off on his fingers. "One, we're going to get John down from Five even though Alan has very conveniently extended his rota. Two, the back of your neck gets red when you're mad."

Scott rubbed at it self consciously. "No it doesn't."

"Ya, it does bro. How do think I get the message of when to steer clear with the pranking? It's the same with Virge but don't tell him I told you that."

Scott blinked in silence in light of Gordon's astute observations.

And three," Gordon continued, "You can't sit still anyway but it's like ten times worse when you're worried about a brother. That brother isn't Alan when he's tucked up snug as a bug in a rug in the sick room probably watching racing vids by now, it's John."

Scott put his head in his hands as Gordon gestured expansively. "Ergo, you and Dad fought because as usual he thought everything was peachy when John's been practically radio silent lately, so if it ain't broke no need to fix it. Plus you're pissed about the whole thing with Alan."

Gordon kept talking as Scott tried to process exactly how much his little brother picked up on because Gordon’s anxious tell was the inability to shut up. 

"Bonus lucky number four, John's been in space far too long and it's getting to him, and damn it to all hell but Dad was wrong and I'm really glad we're here."

They both let out a long breath after that, looking to each other. The airlock safety dinged.

Scott leapt out of the pilot's chair as fast as he could, pausing only when Gordon didn't follow.

Brown eyes watched him, as soft and sharp as the tangle of contradictions that forged Gordon. 

"Johnny will just want you. You're our big brother, he'll be a mess and you know he hates anyone seeing him like that. He’ll take it better from you."

Scott leant over the back of Gordon's chair to wrap him in a hug. "Thanks, Squid."

"Anytime. Now you bring our space-case home." That ridiculous nickname was said with all the affection in the world.

Scott saluted him, getting a casual two fingers flicked from a brow back as he pressed the door release.

The doors shifted open with their customary hiss-clunk, allowing Scott entry into Thunderbird Five. His brother's Thunderbird, just as clearly as One was his own. Maybe even more so when it came to it. It wasn't like Scott lived on his twenty-four seven without pause, even if after long rescue shifts sometimes he felt like he did.

John was waiting for him on the other side in his customary blue uniform and lilac baldric, looking smaller than Scott thought someone so tall and lanky could possibly make themselves. His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest. Hugging himself, Scott realised.

A step closer showed exactly how crumpled his clothes were, as if he'd pulled them off the laundry floor pile. Or slept in them. Or, if Scott was going to bet on it, spent a good amount of time crying his heart out while hiding in his bed, like Scott had found John too many times in their lives after he retreated. Their father would never allow anyone under his command and certainly not his sons to be seen with their uniforms in such disarray in any other circumstances.

Another couple of steps until he was standing right in John's space had him meeting his brother's over-bright eyes. It was impossible to miss how red and puffy the skin around them was. John glanced away down to their feet, blinking quickly.

His hair stuck out like a set of radio antennae, his fringe bent in no less than three different directions.

Scott had been right. Gordon had been right. John wasn't coping up here alone. 

"Hey, John," Scott said softly.

"Scott." 

Only now John's voice sounded utterly wrecked, like he had in fact spent the last hours sobbing.

Scott was ready to kick himself for not doing anything earlier. This would've kept on going, leaving John suffering in silence when he couldn't make himself say anything to their father for even longer, if Scott hadn't stepped in. 

Twelve weeks. John had been stuck up here alone, no one to keep him company, the time stretching out longer and longer as Alan put off or cut short his own rota whenever he could get away with it. It was a pattern, going back far longer than this round. 

Scott would've gone mad in about a day over his allotted month without room to run in the fresh air beneath the sky and more importantly, have his family by his side. John had had none of that for far longer.

This was why Scott didn't take rosters on Five very often without good reason. But if he was up here, he was damn well going to stick it out and do his job properly. He'd be having a long talk with Alan about taking responsibility for his own actions after he got John home and gave him a chance to settle before tempers blew up the house. The kid would take it hard being told that he'd hurt John, but this couldn't go on.

The reason why stood right in front of him.

John wobbled on his feet, rocking forward before hesitating as he reached out towards Scott. 

" Oh, Jay," Scott murmured near silently, just between him and John.

Scott opened up his arms and John fell into them. 

John didn't hug back; his arms remained pinned around himself, crossed protectively over his chest, but he leaned his body into Scott's before tucking his face into the crook of his big brother's neck.

Ever so carefully, Scott folded him close as John trembled. 

His brother felt far too... Scott refused to use the word fragile, his John was as strong as the rest of them, no matter what anyone said, and yet he also wasn’t the collected Thunderbird Five they usually knew. All Scott wanted to do was hold him, to keep the weight of the world off his brother’s narrower shoulders and stand between him and the storm. Right now that was what John needed; it didn’t make him any less of a Thunderbird though.

John would step out again from that shelter, quicker and cleverer than anyone or simply however John was in the moment, but that was his choice, not Scott’s to keep him. It was about whenever John felt ready to do so, Scott swore to himself: he would be there for as long as that took and be still there to come back to, yet when the time came he’d let go and cheer John on from the sidelines.

It had been the same with Gordon when after the accident the world had been screaming that he was fragile. In the early days Scott had been... overprotective too. He'd treated his brother like glass and stopped him from doing what he wanted to do out of fear, for his own sake, not Gordon's. They had a deal now: Gordon would tell him upfront what he could and couldn't do, and Scott would believe him. He’d call dad out when he refused to listen to Gordon too, backing his brother up when he wanted it.

Even when hard rescues turned recoveries had Scott wondering why the hell he was letting any of his baby brothers do this, he'd never take away being a Thunderbird from Gordon against his will. Nor from John. He’d fight the whole world kicking and screaming if it tried to, because being different didn't make any of his brothers broken. 

He held John, a hand resting on the nape of his neck to gently tangle in soft, blonde hair while John’s uneven breaths were warm against Scott’s collar bone, where his eldest little brother hid his face. 

Sometimes after nightmares Scott was left lying awake, staring at the blurry ceiling in the dark. The majority of his service held no happy memories; none of the promised glory was found in the senseless bloodshed of a violent conflict there had been no reason for but greed. When he was so shaken, so sick to the pit of his stomach that the tears he’d woken up with wet on his face flowed freely, Scott thought he wasn't as strong as Dad wanted them all to be either.

John was far too like him when you got down to it. So was Gordon. Alan was barely not a kid and still figuring out a lot of how things worked. He hadn’t had the easiest time of it growing up without Mum holding his hand like she had been there for the rest of them, not matter how they all had tried to compensate for the youngest. Scott had tried, he’d stepped up as the man of the house even when Dad checked out. He hadn’t known what to do with five motherless boys either.

Scott’s Virgil too had a sensitive artist’s soul, he always had. He was a bit of a hopeless romantic and an easy crier, but Scott couldn’t truly tease him for it. Virgil made the choice over and over to continue to be soft and to be kind no matter how many times he was knocked to the ground. He was the one Scott looked to when he felt he was forgetting how to believe in the good in people. 

Right now, John had forgotten how to take up room in the world. In Scott’s arms, it was as if he would shatter if he was dropped suddenly or grow smaller until he faded away invisibly. Even when Scott knew he wouldn’t , deep down he was still scared that his brother would disappear into space, becoming another part of the stardust and the big, empty void instead of being his John . He saw it in the silence that settled over him after so long away, where his usual quiet gaped like an open wound. He couldn’t bear to lose John to it.

But Scott would never let it happen, not while he still breathed. He would hold John up until he could stand on own his feet again and never leave him alone and forgotten. That’s why he shouted down their father, the echo of his palms slamming into the desk thrumming through his fingers in synch with his heartbeat. Proper meals, rest, sunshine and time with their brothers would do John good, then they would all hear John’s laughter ringing out across the pool decks once again. 

John let Scott take his weight. His brother was truly here, real and solid in his arms, Scott needed this to remember how it felt, that this was John not just the staticky waves of a voice down a radio channel or flattened 2D image from far away. Those weren’t warm and human, it wasn’t the same.

Scott froze when John wriggled after a minute, immediately loosening his grip to give John room to breathe, but John only let his arms drop to his sides so he could squish himself closer to Scott.

Using the few extra inches of height he had on his brother from how John slumped small, Scott wrapped himself around John more. He shifted so he could rest his jaw against John’s hair, taking a deep breath in. 

Oh Jay, dammit . Scott had missed him so much.

He smelt so familiar; he was space and John and home. Scott’s brothers were his home, beyond the island, beyond Kansas, or Earth or space or whatever the hell else the universe was made up of.

Home, home, home, home, home. Scott mouthed the words near silently, a reminder, a promise .

Scott swallowed hard as John nuzzled into his shoulder. Like he knew exactly what Scott was thinking at any point, like he saw straight through him clearer than windshield glass of a Thunderbird, no matter he was trembling, John got him. 

Scott tried not to cry over all of that either.

His brother shouldn't be a shaky mess from just getting a cuddle, he should be demanding them off of Scott whenever he wanted to without care that they were busy, and fighting over who got to sit next to him on movie night like the others. 

Scott rubbed a hand up and down his back, promising himself first and foremost that they were all going to do better by John. Stars knew John would never say anything when he was hurting until he drowned beneath the gravity of it, alone on Five.

[impostorsshow]

Going insane over yhs grian and time travel I've had a daydream for like a year now about the mcc hosting a special event where each team has a younger version of a previous event winner and the MCC deages and hosts a bunch of teens and young adults for a week to y'know make sure a deaged winner isnt too stressed out. And grian is the only winner on his team and although it would be okay to request to be put on a different team, grian assumes he can bullshit his way through whatever time period and that it'd probably pull from when he was on EVO and it wouldn't be an issue but instead it's yhs like a week after taurtis got hit by a car so he's an absolute mess that has been tortured by Sam and you do not have to be around that man much to be traumatized.

Grian is disqualified as soon as they find out he came from a permadeath world, much less had a panic attack over seeing smajor fall from a high place and they call in someone to replace him but it's too late now they have to babysit grian and like 4 other competitors that were just At the Wrong Time. essentially this would just pull from whatever knowledge I have but i am doing a binge of the series with a friend to reset my memory. Mostly, some key moments of this would go as follows [etophobia warning for the next part, or whatever it is the vomit fear thing EDIT CANNABALISM MENTIONED FUCK HOW DID I FORGET THAT]:

Grian covered his mouth, gagging and exiting the room as quickly as he could, turning down the hallway into a darker room and ducking over the trash bin, retching. He heard a sound to his left, and realized whatever room he had sprinted into had Lizzie and Joel in it [idfk], and god throwing up next to two adults was embarrassing. "Sorry."

"Grian! Are you alright? What happened?" Lizzie grabbed a convenient towel and offered it to the younger man, who took it and gratefully wiped his mouth. "Well, uh. Someone brought beef jerky as a gift for everyone and I couldn't stand the smell."

Lizzie and Joel glanced between each other, before Joel asked. "And what's with beef jerky? Are you really that picky of an eater?"

"uh." Apparently the light teasing was either not picked up or directly ignored by Grian, who just stayed quiet for a moment before covering his mouth with the cloth, only barely removing it to speak. "You wouldn't like beef jerky if... someone used it to ..trick you into eating your girlfriend-" and Grian turned and threw up again, hovering over the bin in the silence he created in the room because god that was a gross thought and stop thinking about it your gonna throw up again- Grian threw up again. He was going to need some water after this.

------------------------------

"Grian, how experienced are you with death? You seem to come from a pretty sheltered homeworld." Gem was walking with Grian, along with Etho to one of the training maps they wanted to show the younger. Something about jumping and swimming?

Grian smiled grimly, trying his best to ignore the thoughts that came up. "Uh, yeah. Very experienced, I wouldn't call my home sheltered in the slightest, it was incredibly dangerous. At least, high school was."

Gem grinned, patting Grains shoulder and Grain tried his best to suppress the shiver that came at the unexpected contact, much less from someone he barely knew. Grian wished he had his best friend here, but he was

"-die alot here." Grian caught the end of Gems sentence, blinking. "Huh? What about death?"

"oh, sorry, I was just saying you'll probably die alot here. It's really easy to fall off of Ace Races map."

"...uh, how far of a fall is it?"

"oh, it's not to the void, don't worry, theres a kill box down there far before you reach the void, don't worry."

"....okay." Grian didn't like the sound of falling, and with how casual Gem was being it couldn't mean actual death. But as far as he had learned from Japan, people would stab each other for fun, and getting a broken leg from a fall did Not sound fun. He would just have to take his time, even if it meant upsetting Sam the people who were teaching him how to compete. Why would the future version of himself risk dying after everything, anyway?

-----------------------------

And other iconic moments such as "Grain is Incredibly Aggressive at Rabbits and Also Deathly Afraid of Them And No One Knows What to Do About It" and "That One Trauma dump about Taurtis Getting Stabbed, Getting Into A Car Accident, And Essentially Dying That Every YHS Fanfic Has" I don't know why I'm advertising it it's just a daydream I can't write because I wouldn't be able to write a good enough variety of characters for MCC of all things

[ax-y10]

hiya everyone!

i've come on here to say something real quick.

i've had a big long talk with a good friend of mine and i feel the need to clear some things up.

lots of writing underneath the cut

the wilbur situation.

with this wilbur situation, i haven't seen anything about it until this morning around 7 am (4 hours ago) so i am not very educated on this topic yet.

he has stated and people have seen that he has a problem with alcohol, and it is his choice whether or not he gets help for it. if he chooses not to, that's fine. if it wrecks his life, that's his fault, and it is not our job to try and change that.

he has also stated in streams, recently or not, that his mental health is y'know, not very good. again, he chooses whether or not he gets help for it, and he has said he does therapy. good for him! but i am not going to go on and on about how he can fix himself.

mammalian sighing reflex.

people have been speculating that mammalian sighing reflex is or was about shubble.

now, i don't care if they dated or not. that is not for me to pry into.

but looking at the lyrics, clearly wilbur was a shit person in this relationship (if there was one), and it clearly did not end very well. he's portrayed himself as a bad person in these relationships, and it's not something i would like to associate my writing with.

this brings us to my next topic.

my writing.

as mentioned previously, he doesn't have the best mental health as of now. and yes, it has made me sort of think about how i'm going to write for his character and still keep alcoholism and mental health out of the picture, just to respect him. but if i do slip up and there are those hints, don't use that against me. i'm young, dumb, and stupid, but that is not any excuse to throw shit at me.

why i write for wilbur.

this is also one i've had a good think about.

i talk about wilbur on here and in a groupchat with a few of my online friends, and that is the extent of it. wilbur is not included in my personal life. yes, i listen to his and lovejoy's music, and yes, i watch his videos, but i do not talk about him in any other way except for updates with lovejoy or photos of him. i do not talk about him with my family or anyone outside of tumblr and the groupchat.

i disconnect wilbur's actual self when i'm writing. i am not thinking of wilbur's actual personal life when i write. i am thinking of what i see. the streamer, the musician. not the 'i get coffee every morning' ' i get home from rehearsal at whenever o'clock'. i disconnect wilbur's personal life when i write because i know nothing about him.

i write either because i'm bored or to fill a void inside of me that must be doing something, and i've chosen wilbur's character to write with.

i never associate william with wilbur, okay, if that makes sense. i do not see william gold, as wilbur soot. i use wilbur soot in my writing, not william gold.

why i made this post/summary.

yes, i understand that maybe wilbur was depicting himself as an asshole in ycgma and msr, and yes, maybe he has a problem with alcohol and his mental health. and yed, i have explained my writing in the most detailed way possible.

but whenever i am writing, there is always a thought in the back of my mind.

'maybe wilbur isn't this sweet, caring guy that everyone writes him to be. maybe he is an alcoholic, asshole boyfriend. maybe what people portray him as isn't who he is'

this isn't to say i hate everyone who writes for him, i'm just saying that i try to contain my thoughts in some way. i have lovely mutuals on this app that support what i do, and i have lovely conversations with them, but my god.

please, if you are going to do anything, do not put hate or negativity on wilbur's shoulders, on any writer's shoulders or on my shoulders.

wilbur will choose whether or not he wants to discuss what's going on and clear it up.

thankyou for coming to my ted talk