#I CAN TURN ANYTHING INTO ANGST ��

[fumifooms]

Dungeon lord Chilchuck

What would his wish as a dungeon lord be? What would he be like? Headcanons & speculation post for fun. But I’ll start with analytic lead up because that’s always fun for me, though feel free to skip and skim.

When it comes to what Chilchuck’s dungeon lord desires could/would be like we have mainly 3 hints: His nightmare, his succubus and what the winged lion says to him.

Why: — From what we see nightmares are based on the person’s worst fears and insecurities, both Laios’ and Marcille’s nightmare were closely tied to their dungeon lord wishes (Laios’ dream monster being summoned to crush the ghosts of relationships that represented the pressure to fit in and belong, Marcille seeking control over death and aging through magic to avoid loss), the fuel behind their desire/goal if you will. Fear and deep-seated desires are seemingly closely tied, something also supported by Thistle and Mithrun’s reigns as dungeon lords (Thistle proving his worth through fulfilling his given duty + protecting his loved ones, being listened to instead of having to listen, Mithrun escaping rigid two-faced elven society and living in a wonderland where he has no enemies and he’s loved, free from everyone he knew yet propped up by the person symbolizing his brother being chosen over him, the bastard child).

— I’ve talked about the significance I assign to the succubi often by now, but rundown: What we see of each character is all very telling if you care to listen, it shows not only someone’s "ideal form" but what they want from it. Izutsumi’s is familial, offering a hug and comfort, Marcille’s is romantic with a character she knows and loves, offering a kiss on a hand and a connection regardless of how distant it actually is, and Laios’ is platonic, arguable at first but then Laios’ fear of judgement is placated and he is offered the picture perfect friend group that accepts his interest (if you want my full look at Laios’ succubus go here). They take on the most alluring form, most ideal person of their victim, even uncovering deep subconscious desires, so precisely and effectively to the point it leaves victims physically frozen before the object of their desire. Succubi and the demon are themselves tied in lore and it’s easy to see how similar their core skill are. Succubi don’t give a good idea of what a character would wish for on their own but they certainly give hints on what they crave, regardless of how you want to read it.

— Last bit is self-explanatory. To placate Chilchuck and win his compliance over, the monster that reads your soul like an open book offers to give him something specific. But! It’s also important to remember that the lion isn’t offering to fulfill Chilchuck’s dream world wish here, it’s a second prize, because his goal with what he promised Laios is that they’d stay in this world, away from everyone and everything else. Chilchuck wants to get away but is kept back, and it’s here the lion placates him with "hey it’s okay! You can’t do that but I can still give you this! This is enough right? It’ll make everything easier on you".

What each bit says: — Long version in another post. Tldlr: His daughters and family are obviously important to him, and this reinforces that he takes on the role of protector a lot, he’s constantly worried for his party members’ lives and implicitly his family’s. Safety and stability, both economical and otherwise, are his core values and goals, and he berates both others and himself if someone fails on those fronts. Here, there’s the fear of not being enough, of not having been able to protect, and of course of loss.

— Chil’s succubi are obviously sexual, and not only that but agressively and straightforwardly so. It’s not like Marcille’s where there’s personality involved, all they do is give him sultry looks and pretty smiles before jumping on him. His succubi aren’t like Izutsumi’s, always the same exact person and appearance, so it’s not someone but an appealing general idea. The idea of a sexual being he can regard as simply a gorgeous piece of meat and a good time no strings attached. In my interpretation, especially with my reading of Laios’ succubus where even with deep-seated desires negative emotions can be too intense to effectively freeze a victim, I think this doesn’t contradict his character. Relationships have been painful to him in the past, in the succubus scene when his wife gets mentioned his immediate reaction is to yell "Don’t bring her up now!", like with his habit of drinking and as a tallman liking his senses feeling dulled, it’s about not having to feel emotions with how difficult they are to deal with sometimes and just feeling good, or at least not having to think, for a while. If a succubus showcases someone’s ideal connection with an ideal person, then Chilchuck’s is with a pretty person that doesn’t stir any negative memory or drama, someone low stakes and low maintenance that doesn’t require him to manage or talk out feelings because there’s none involved in the first place.

— Once more, wife and family are important! He does long for his family, not only his wife but his daughters, and vice versa. This suggests not only that he wants good relationships with them but that he wants them to be with him, a family life. Far from the cut communication they all more of less have during canon, and perhaps far from their life pre-canon when he worked away from home a significant amount of time. We’ve seen recreations of people by the winged lion before with doppelgangers and monsters (naga), and though he claims he can make satisfying imitations, what we’ve seen is that they base themselves on the best memories of that person, like with Marcille’s dad, or twist behavior to be more pleasant, like Mithrun’s lover (and possibly twist appearances depending on the person’s view of them, but that’s Mithrun analysis). The line does suggest Chilchuck would want his family members as they are in reality and not idealized versions, but the circumstances are chaotic and urgent enough in the scene (and again the lion isn’t fulfilling Chilchuck’s wish but trying to make him content for Laios’) that it could just be the winged lion saying what he needs to to convince him the fastest possible, and like we see with Laios that can crumble to give way to deeper or more complex desires.

On top of that we just have general info on Chil. How does Chilchuck deal w his issues? What does he like to do? He likes alcohol and ignoring his problems. We have to remember there is a split between what someone would consciously wish for and what their soul uncontrollably irrationally craves. As always with Dunmeshi, there’s a narrative of irrational deep-seated desires vs active wants, what you crave vs what you strive for, what you dream of vs what’s actually good for you, the animal vs the human inside you, heart vs mind. Chilchuck craving a harem of hot babes in his fantasies but wanting his family life & wife back again is not mutually exclusive. You may crave becoming a monster and tasting what humans are like a little but still want to save the world & your friends more.

Btw can we adress the irony of him terrified of being the last one alive, of being left by his daughters and wife, of having left and coming back home one day to see everything gone or rampaged, yet not caring about dying of liver failure himself, knowing every time that he enters a dungeon there’s a real risk he may not come out. Die somewhere I can’t see you. I prefer leaving you than being left behind. He’s selfish and shortsighted like that… Chilchuck is selfless in many ways of course, but perhaps also due to his own relationship with his parents, he often undermines the effects he has on others in his relationships, both the good and the bad (he talks himself down about being cowardly and greedy yes, but never hints at his bad health habits, alcoholism and starving himself, may have affected his loved ones, doesn’t question his wife falling into a bad mood the night before she left, and talks about the possibility of dying here and there very casually, though obviously he tries his best to stay alive when it doesn’t concern his health).

Chilchuck king of "Let me just avoid and ignore my problems surely they’ll go away, things might work out and if they don’t well tough luck I’ll survive and I probably deserve it anyways". If I don’t look at it it will dissapear <3 Why care when you can simply not think about it.

You might not understand Mister "my love will stay strong through months of work travel and also 4 years of separation" and Mister "well idk my siblings and me are kinda strangers and my dad is dead but that’s kinda whatever", but typically relationships need some form of maintenance and emotional availability…

The actual headcanons finally

I kinda have 2 routes in mind for dunlord Chil and both of them are centered on "I care too much, i wish things were easy", so first is a lot like his succubi, it’s full on indulging in his guilty pleasures like alcohol and bodies and it’s to keep him in a constant state of thrill and euphoria and distracted, unfeeling about stuff that really matters. "Nothing matters except that I’m enjoying the moment!" vibe. He gets to live a life worthy of Dionysus, with alcohol and women and debauchery and like— never having to think again, never having to feel anything but pleasure again, never have to feel guilty or shitty or angry or sad. He has a harem and gets everything on a silver platter.

Breaking news demon magic-induced rush of euphoria and power still not enough to cure this man of his self-hatred nor his capacity for thought!! But in his case a state of euphoria is what he seeks I think, to kinda mask or replace the Everything Else.

The other is what I think closer to what canon suggests, with what WL implied too with "I’ll make you a new wife and kids like the originals!! 😊", it’s a (spoilers) Wandavision type thing where it’s a slice of life where he’s never at work and always at home and the family eats lunches at the dinner table together and everything and everyone at any moment is just. Happy. No issues. It was all a dream, this is real and everything is fine and your family is perfect and happy. I like to think the timeline would be wonky, his daughters would fluctuate in age, but he’d want to be there for what he missed, would want them to still rely on him and look up to him like when they were young, would like to forget that they’re now independent adults and the distance that grew between Chilchuck and his siblings is happening between them as well. Chil would want doppelgangers of his family imo, at its core just a general wish for a peaceful happy family life with no drama, no need to compromise, a little paradise of unconditional love and no consequences. It’s for sure straightforward, but Chilchuck is a man with straightforward desires…

But see Chilchuck is a greedy man, and he wants it both ways without having to sacrifice anything or expanding any efforts himself. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. I think playing with these two opposite directions and mixing and matching is most fun. Him leading a life where he indulges in all his worst habits while still having everything he wants… Him getting to have BOTH his wife and any woman he can imagine up, his life like two sides of a coin he can flip at any moment where he’s partying then he’s at home enjoying the quiet and his toddler daughters playing with toys on the carpet. Christ when you remember it’s all an illusion that’s terrifying, the doppelgangers and succubi from the winged lion playing chilchuck ping pong.

A safe little haven both security-stability wise and emotionally. Gets to have both the relaxing and the thrilling in any dose he wants, mixed or separatedly. What I’d argue he had pre-canon too: Can live it up in taverns away from home, stays away from home for long periods of time, and can come back to home aka the symbol of relaxation and safety whenever he decides to. Something he can leave and come back to at will, an anchor he can trust in (until it’s taken from him and his wife leaves. Or in his worse nightmare people rush in and kill his daughters). The ideal of a house and family to a working man, perhaps…

I think it’s fun to think on wether or not these desires would be interesting at all to the winged lion… In canon he seeks out "rare/complex desires", common simple things like I imagine riches, sex, substances and pleasure would be are boring to him, he’s eaten those so many times already. So perhaps he wouldn’t last long as a dunlord, the WL would want to eat him fully quick, can’t keep him interested or waiting long for a meager meal, too much effort raising the cattle and too low quality meat. By making it more twisted or layered Chil’s desire would become more desirable to the demon, it’s part of what’s fun with the third option to me. But whatever. Has he ever eaten a guy with this much repression and self-sabotage... Like trying to get the meat out of a walnut, enrichment…

Other dunlord Chil takes I’ve seen that are fun and good:

@feelo-fick and @pluvio-floret have a dunlord Chilchuck AU project dubbed "tragedy AU" where Chilchuck is said to be "on vacation", in a weird delirious state, only half-there half of the time… From which he doesn’t want to wake up </3 Quoting Feelo, this is why the vacation thing is only a half-joke cause he is 1) letting all his responsibilities go 2) indulging in himself and 3) "spending time with his family" <- lie but you get what i mean. Additional comments that have me vigorously nodding: because changing is hard why cant things just be okay right now without the effort !!! Life is hard he’s so so tired he just wants to feel good… he just wants life to feel nice and easy for a sec while he can learn to breathe again and lose the stress and trauma he’s accumulated…….. spoiler alert yes !!! in fact a depressed person can suck themselves into their job and lock out the world who wouldve thought !!!

And then Cabinette I know posted about his dunlord take once but I don’t have the link, in which Chil has a lot of nosebleeds because of mana overload which is fun and interesting to think about imo~

In dunmeshi, where characters get underground pockets of the world as their playground disconnected from everything outside and the rest of the world, it’s important to remember to face reality even if it has conflict and people with different views and stances from you, it’s something Chilchuck and Marcille and everyone needed to learn, and the thing with a dungeon lord AU is that you imagine a timeline where he fails to <3

A timeline where his dungeon lord wish is to desire nothing bc hope and want has only ever hurt him would also go so hard. Very universal thing though I suppose.

… And this is why a Chilchuck-centric Coraline AU is really really interesting and fitting and topical— Ok that’ll go in a separate reblog/post at @Fumiku I need to let this end

[cjlouwho]

hmmm should I make something angsty of Tommy’s silly little gut reaction to bring his arms up to his chest with his hands in fists when something scares him?

[pines4thetwin]

As promised, here's that fusion post for the three people that asked for it (drops it and runs).

Ford thinks of himself and Stan as one, an extension of each other, and lowkey hates that its not true nor possible.

And Mabel really shouldn't have shown him Steven Universe because now he's obsessing over the concept of fusions and his desire to be one with stan.

Now lets say this is Pre-Weird and everything is still tense between them and they aren't exactly talking but despite that ford still wants to be close and he knows stan does too.

He can see it in the broken resigned looks Stan keeps throwing his way. And listen, Ford isn't the best at communication but he can fix this. He may still be angry and self righteous and an asshole but he can fix them.

So now he spends an even more absurd amount of time in the lab trying to making it his reality and entirely disregards his base needs to the point even dipper is concerned.

He has a journal dedicated to this idea where he keeps all his notes and theories on how to make it possible. Would he have to alter their DNA for it to work or could it be possible for them as they are?

While doing the tests and research for his fixation he remembers a dimension he briefly travelled to back when he was younger and fresh through the portal. One where this concept, his desire, his fantasy, his wish was real. A dimension where it was was their culture, their way of life. And while he did think it was interesting then, he was young and angry and raw with unrestrained hurt. Too emotional to stop and study the practice the way he should have.

He beats himself up over it now. If only he had been thinking more logically him and stan could be one already. They wouldn't have to be so... apart.

He doesn't have time to dwell on his shortcomings though. He has to figure this out. He doesn't know exactly why but he feels like he's running out of time. Like he has to do this now or he'll never have the chance again.

Eventually he has his prototype and it functions well... enough. He just has one more trial to run. Except Stan comes down to check on him. 'Worried ford isn't taking care of himself properly.' or something like that.

And honestly, Stan in his space is the last thing he expects because they have an unspoken agreement. Stan roams above and Ford stays down here. And when they cross paths they both look the other way.

But stan is here and yes Ford is annoyed at first but this also means he doesn't have to go seek stan out.

"I told you to stay- wait actually this is perfect. We'll do it now," Ford fiddles with his device, turning it on and he really isn't thinking right anymore. He know the device works and that's all that matters.

"Do what now? Stanford, what is that," And Stan is kinda terrified because Ford looks... well he looks kinda like how he did decades ago when he had sent that postcard and Stan had come running because well, its Ford.

Ford looks insane, primal and unhinged, like he hasn't seen the light of day in weeks. And Dipper had told Stan, had been worried but Stan brushed it off because Ford locking himself in the lab and avoiding everybody, avoiding him wasn't a new development.

But now Stan’s worried because that wild-eyed look is directed at him again and the cowardly little animal in him is screaming at him to run.

It’s like Ford knows what he's thinking because before Stan has a chance to decide if he's going to shut down or entertain that scared little animal, Ford is grasping at him and pulling him deeper into the dingy little basement.

Stan trips and he fully expects his back to hit the floor but fords got and arm wrapped low on his back that keeps him from falling fully. And stan's hand is also tangled in fords sweater so even if Ford had let him fall, well they would have gone down together.

But then he catches sight of that thing again and it looks vaguely like a gun and why did he have to get saddled with the insane twin? He doesn't even have time to flinch because a bright light floods his vision and he blanks.

For a second, Stan's mind goes black and there's a strange humming in his ears. But then he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in forever. Soft and joyous and for a moment stan smiles. It's Ford's laugh.

Because he and Stan become one. And everything is warm and bright and as it should be. For a moment everything is right. It feels like coming home.

His-Their eyes open and Ford's confused? No, Stans confused.

"Sixer? Lee?" Their voice says, soft and bewildered. They look around, searching for each other. Stan? Ford? Where did they go? They look down and their vision swims. Four hands, five fingers? Six? It all blurs together.

Is this me, they think as one. Finally as one. Four hands run up the sides of their one body then stretch out for their wide eyes to view. Ford can feel his giddiness rising unbidden. And a whisper from Stan, rising to meet Ford. Uncertain but matching nonetheless.

Finally

Finally together... Finally fixed... Finally right.

They spin slowly, as if that will give them a better view of what they are now, and they catch their reflection in some dim glass. Ford wants to smile but their face drops, eyes horrified.

"What did you do," Stan says, voice a cutting accusation. Nausea erupts in their stomach. And that isn't right. Why isn't it right?

Something is wrong. Everything is so very wrong. Ford's head hurts. Or is it Stans. He doesn't know. They can't tell.

"I fixed it. I fixed us," Ford says and it isn't right either. Why is it still so wrong? Stan is angry. But why is he angry? Why aren't they happy? They're together. After all this time they're finally together again.

Ford can feel Stan pulling away. It's like their mind is splitting in two. Hot searing pain shoots through their head, four eyes closing when the world starts to spin.

Ford grasps ahold of stan and refuses to let go. He can't let Stan ruin this, ruin them. He will not let Stan destroy everything he's worked towards again. They've been apart for so long- too long but not anymore. Besides, this is for them. Stan will just have to understand. They are one now. Broken and wrong but one nonetheless.

"Let me go," They yell, tugging apart furiously. Their shape shifts and distorts but doesn't split. Ford won't let them. They snap back together painfully, stumbling on two bulky legs, one that branches into two feet. Wrong.

"No! This is what we wanted right," their voice bellows, loud and angry and wrong. So very wrong. "For us to be together. Always together."

They grip at their hair as if trying to pull themselves back apart. Stan.

"Not like this. I never asked for this." they shout back, voice sharp and hurt and why aren't they happy now. They should be happy. This is right. This is how they are meant to be.

Even as the anger and hurt courses through their entire being, Ford knows he wouldn't want to be any other way. Stan's angry and scared but at least they're one. They're shattered and hurting but even then some small part burns in them, it's a tiny little ember but it's both of them and it says yes.

Another set of hands reach for the ones in their hair, pulling them out and restraining them. Betrayal spikes, scorching and increasing rapidly even after years of dormancy. Ford.

"Stop being so ungrateful! You're always so-." angry tears spill from their eyes. Decades of hurt and anger and resentment spill forth to mix into a sense numbing cocktail but most of all they feel alone. So very alone. Them.

They grapple and struggle and Ford's device glints from the corner of their eyes. Ford can feel Stan's intent before their body even moves. Being one now, it's like their minds have melded which means Stan knows the device's purpose. And he intends to separate them.

"NO!" Ford bellows, voice priggish and angry, hurt tinting the singular word so strongly that their body stalls. Why would stan- Why doesn't he want them to be together?

"Grunkle Stan?" Their head whips to the left, eyes locking with a confused and tired Mabel’s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.

“Pumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-” And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong? 

Flashes of being in this very lab, so long ago- but no, it was before that even.

Mabel stares at them, scared and confused and stan has never wanted her to look at him like that ever. But Ford doesn't register it because for a moment, one split second, Stan stops fighting him. 

They don't hesitate to rush forward, very much intent on destroying their creation before it has a chance to be used against them. To hurt them.

Two small hands wrap around it before they can get ahold of it. Mabel clutches it to her chest, watching them with something too close to fear. They freeze in place, hands raising in surrender.

"Sweetie," Falls from their lips, pleading. For what though, they aren't quite sure. Because their mind, it should be one yet it isn't. It's at odds, fragmented by a fear and necessity that clash so strongly it could tear universes apart.

“Press the green- Don't you dare-” They speak at once, words and thoughts overlapping. Large hands cover their mouth, two others gripping uselessly at wrist that refuse to budge, because regardless of whatever insanity that has plagued Fords mind to make them act this way, Stan will not let their voice- their words even hint at a threat towards Mabel.

Mabel's head bobs, looking from them down to the thing in her hands, unsure of what to do. Stan nods, eyes pleading.

Ford lashes out, angry and hurt and thrashing like a wild dog. 'Stanley please no. Why don't you want us to be-' Stan is retreating, silent and distant. 'Lee. LEE!'

Everything goes dark.

Ford rises slowly, head spinning and ears ringing. He has the worst headache he has ever experienced. He stares at his hands, splayed on the floor. Two hands, six fingers. Wrong.

His head whips up and his gaze finds Stan's crumpled form across from him on the floor. Stan's glaring at him, thick angry tears spilling down red cheeks.

No. No!

His head turns slowly and his eyes fall on Mabel. Mabel who is standing with his prototype in shaky hands looking between a separated Ford and Stan. He... failed. And now they're...

Apart.

Broken.

Wrong.

[phantom-z0ne]

"Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was.” Alternatively, Billy feeds a stray and ends up with a roommate.

WC: 1215

Serendipity (n): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

Billy wasn't sure what the creature ransacking his train car was. Granted, the train car wasn't in the most hidden place ever, but he had made sure to ward it against most creatures. The ward would have made one unable to see the train, and if they somehow saw it anyways, they would have been turned around. He usually was pinged if anything passed his wards, which was why he was so blindsided to see something moving around in his train car. It seemed that this one had slipped through his protections. 

The creature was strange and almost hard to look at directly. Its blinding white hair moved independent from the wind and twined around its long, pointed, mint colored ears. It was also small, small enough that Billy thought it could comfortably fit into his cupped hands, and wearing some sort of skin tight suit, black with a stripe of silver along its torso. Or what appeared to be its torso, Billy couldn't really tell when its lower body faded into a long tail.

From his perspective, it seemed to be rummaging through where he usually hides his food, showing slivers of its white paws. Did it pass through the barriers he set because it was hungry? 

Billy approached the creature quietly, making sure not to get too close, he wouldn't want to startle it. His efforts were in vain though as the creature snapped its head towards him. It's glowing eyes like headlights, as if staring into Billy’s soul. The green in its eyes swirling hypnotically as the creature bristled at his presence. 

Billy watched, amused but vigilant, as the creature puffed up like a cat. Even going so far as to swat a couple times in his direction. So far, it was quite harmless, but the buzzing in the back of his head that he usually equated to Solomon told him to be careful.

Billy slowly dropped to his knees, mindful of the creature's reaction, and shifted his bag to his front. He shuffled through his bag and brought out the small piece of jerky he was saving for later, sliding it slowly towards the creature.

The creature tilted its head, staring at the jerky suspiciously before taking a few steps to paw at it. It apparently passed its test as it devoured the jerky surprisingly fast for its small size. While it seemed to be starving, thankfully it didn't reflect onto its body. It wasn't gaunt or thin, but actually quite plump. Perhaps it just didn't eat for a day or two? 

Billy took a small step forward, then a few more when he realized the creature was focused on eating. “So,” He began softly, the creature startling as if it was just realizing he was so close. “What are you doing here, little guy?”

It stared at him silently before once again tilting its head. It was cute, Billy realized. The chubby cheeks and button nose paired with big, shiny eyes made it endearing to look at. His expression melted slightly as he took a closer look at the creature.

The creature's ear flicked as it padded up to him, paws on Billy’s knees. It let out an unintelligible sound, layered and harsh to Billy's ear, yet somehow melodious. Billy blinked, not expecting that noise. The creature looked at him almost expectantly, eyes shining brightly.

Billy hesitantly brought his knuckles closer to the creature, feeling its cold nose as it sniffed him. It was clearly unimpressed and trilled for more food. Billy chuckled under his breath as he brought another piece of jerky to the needy creature. It gobbled it up swiftly, looking up at him and once again begging for more, its eyes almost sparkling.

Billy folded under the cuteness overload and retrieved a sandwich from his bag, splitting it in half. He was worried that it would eat more than it could handle if he kept feeding it. He knew very well what that felt like.

The creature blinked at him, once, twice, before giving him a small, pleasant trill and headbutted his fingers. Billy cautiously set his hand over its silky hair? Fur? All he knew was that it felt divine, though not in the godly way. 

“What are you?” Billy asked as he wove his fingers through its hair, genuinely curious on what species the creature was. He had inputted a lot of creatures in his ward but he had no clue what this one was. The tingling at the back of his head spoke otherwise, Solomon knowing very well what it was. He could transform and ask Solomon, since he couldn't really speak to him unless he was Captain Marvel, but that would just scare the creature.

It gave him a look before resuming its lunch, finishing it in record time. Apparently, it deigned him worthy of its presence on his lap as it kneaded his legs then curled up onto them. The purring surprised him, pausing when the creature gave him an impatient look when he halted his ministrations on its hair.

He resumed, of course. Why wouldn't he? It was a nice reprieve from fighting villains as Captain Marvel and watching out for himself when he was on the streets. It was just a quiet moment between him and the strange creature that broke into his home. 

…He hadn't realized how lonely he was before this. 

He had friends, of course. Freddy, Tawky Tawny, and the Justice League. But… this just wasn't the same. As good as a friend Freddy was, he doubted that he would be willing to just sit and enjoy each other's company silently. Freddy was a huge superhero fan and couldn't help but talk about them in excitement. Not to mention his analyses on Billy’s techniques as Captain Marvel.

The Justice League wasn't any better. They had a professional relationship, thinking of him more as a coworker than a friend. The times he tried to deepen their friendship by inviting them out, he was unfortunately turned down. It seemed that they got along better when they were in battle than not.

Billy usually went to Tawky Tawny for advice, but Tawky Tawny never turned down the opportunity to just spend time in the other’s company. Unfortunately, those times were far and few between, usually because Tawky Tawny was traveling or busy with something else. 

With this creature— he’d have to name it eventually, Billy thought absently—all that was expected of him was companionship, nothing more.

Billy felt a cool paw pat his face, the creature looking up at him concerned. His eyes widened before he let out a huff, ruffling its hair. The creature let out a disgruntled chuff and phased through his hands then batted at them, settling down once more on his lap once it was done. 

It hadn't been with him long, all he had done was give it some food, and it was already trying to comfort him. Admittedly, it wasn't the best comfort, it stopped once he focused on it, but it wasn't something he expected from a creature he met not an hour ago.

Billy smiled, eyes soft. Perhaps it could stay, if only for a while.

Whipped this up in a couple hours while trying to get out of my funk 

Thanks for reading!!

Ao3

[doodlemcnoodlee]

Uh, I might have gotten to hyper focussed on The dark Side of the Moon lol

Anyways enjoy, this is the longest fanfic I’ve written! Very fun :D

The Dark side of the moon had always been something to be hidden like he was a disgrace among men, never worth the slightest whisper of his name beside the venomous words of Luna when he even bothered being awake during Luna's few break from watching over Earth, when their body became tired after slaving away to make sure their orbit was intact and Earth's tilt was just right, he wasn't worth having a name of his very own or even an identity beside “Luna's dark side” always destined to face away from their planet until the very end.

He would never get to share the joy that sparks in the their core as Luna watches over Earth’s inhabitants go about their day, he'd never get to feel the love they Earthlings so willingly give back to their moon for watching over them all those years, thanking the Moon full heartily for stabilizing their seas and for keeping them safe as they dance under the moon filled sky, many Earthlings have loved Luna for billions of years and well continue loving him for billions more, while Earth and him never get the same respect, Earth can keep Luna (for the most part anyways) in the dark of the Earthlings true, statistic nature, but it's him who has to hear Earth's soft whimpers long after Luna has fallen asleep, all while not being able to do a dame thing about it.

He can only slowly orbit as he listen to their planet weep and cry in pain after so many years of abuse, Earth's illusion of grander and endless self-worth being stripped away as soon as the others rest, when there's no one left to judge him for his tears as they could never understand the sharp, piercing pain Earth feels on a never ending basis, his body becoming numb to the pain as the wars continue on and as his very own materials being use to rip apart his surface pice by pice from the selfish men thinking of their own wellbeing instead of the Earthling they so mercilessly killed.

No other planet could begin to understand how it feels, not even Mars who had an Earthling base be set up on his surface, as it's only one compared to billions.

And none of them knew how it felt to be nothing more then a secret side of someone else, forced to watch as other's live the life you always wanted, to be loved and cherish by few but with their love being stronger then hundreds others, being able to feel their planets arms around you, as you rest on their chest, his soft voice lolling you into deep sleep, with no care in the world other then the vibration you feel as they speak to quietly into the night.

Instead he was delegated to being a bystanders in his own body, forced to listen as Earth kisses Luna's face and whispers how much he loves his 'only' moon, being completely unaware of another just waiting to be heard, as he scream for anyone to notice him just for once! Is that really so much to ask for? He just wants to be hear, just wants to be loved much like Luna is, as said moon begin to make friends other than Earth, he wishes for nothing more then to be able to experience the same life as Luna has, as he gets to talk with the other moons and joke around with the rocky planet or when their surface burns, hot at Earth’s teasing Luna about his 'small' crush on Titan, he wishes more than anything to experience the same things! To go through the small yet meaningful experience of being alive, being able to live instead of being trapped in a body he barely even consider his own, he wishes to be something more then a shadow in someone else's life forever delegated to be hidden away, never to be seen by anyone.

———————————————————————

It was like any other night as he drifted slowly around Earth, looking up at shining stars, littering the sky around them, it was probably the only benefits of being awake, instead of trapped in Luna's mind, he could watch them for hours on end, never getting bored of the same old sight, it was truly beautiful after seeing nothingness for so many orbits, up until Luna decided to give up control again, and he was grateful for any change he gets even if it’s mostly for his other side's benefit. He didn't care, as long as he got to see the stars again.

"Luna? Are you still up?" Their planet asked as he looked up at them, rubbing gently at his eyes. He could feel their body grow tense as he felt Earth's eyes stay focused on them, never looking away even for a second.

"I know you're awake Luna, there's no point in pretending you're not." Earth continues letting out a small huff of air as his natural satellite remains silent.

His throat grew tight as panic set in, their planet had never noticed him move during the night before, why now?! Was the change in tides that noticeable as he went off their usual path? "Ugh! Luna, come on! Why are you ignoring me?!" The worry begin to turn into frustrated as the moon refused to answer him, his voice growing louder as he spoke, he could feel the Earth moving closer to them, his core ached with worry, Earth was never meant to find out about him, Luna made sure of that and would be furious if his secret got out, he needed to wake Luna up and fast! But before he could, a warm hand grab harshly onto his arm, unintentionally burning him after so many years of no celestial contact, "please Luna just talk to me! It's fine if you're upset! But we both promise to tell each other our issues instead of bottling them up!" He could hear the desperation in their planet's voice as the moon remained quiet, only after touching 'Luna' could Earth feel the moon's body begin to shake as fear developed his core, he didn't know what to do! What could he do? Luna wasn't waking up and their planet wouldn't let them escape now.

"..."

Silence filled the air as neither spoke, Earth's grip only grew tighter as worry over took any anger he might have had, a quite "Luna?" Escaped his lips, barely audible in the cold night sky, there was no other sound around them beside the soft snores of Mars near by, "are you okay?" He finished, his planet's voice was soft and loving, like nothing he had ever done heard before, at lest not directed at him, his body only shook more as emotion started to swell in his stomach, bagging to be free but instead coming out as small tears dripping down his face, unsure how to act after so long of being relegated into the shadows. "Oh MY GOD, LUNA!" Earth shouted barely being able to catch the small moon before his knees gave out completely, slowly lowering both of them to the floor as Earth hugged the celestial being as it cries rippled through it's body holding tightly onto his planet's hoodie as his tears wet the soft fabric "shh it's okay, everything is going to be okay" Earth now whispered gently in his ear, tucking their silver hair behind it as he did, the planet's other hand rubbing the small circles onto his back, trying desperately to calm the small moon now holding onto him for dear life.

“I-I-I'm not L-Luna!" The small moon cried out digging his face deeper into the planet's hoodie, he could feel Earth's hands stop its rubbing motion and his breathing growing thin against his ear as he pulled away. He could only let out another loud cry as he feared for what's to come, why did he have to say anything? He could have just stayed quiet and let the Earth sing him to sleep just like he heard their planet do too Luna all those times before!

"Uhhh, w-what?" He could hear the confusion in Earth's voice as he spoke. Feeling the tears wetting his hoodie from the small Moon crying harder into his chest, their fingers griping harshly onto the fabric still refusing to let go, Earth cleared his throat with a cough before he tried speaking again "what do you mean? Bring his other hand originally in his hair down to wrap the small moon into a warm hug, he couldn’t help but lean into it no matter how overstimulated it was for him.

"I-I- " the small moon began before a small hiccup interrupted him "I...I-I'm n-no-not Lu-na" his voice was rough after so many years of not speaking to anyone but Luna, making his vocal cords striated and hard to use. "I-I'm h-h-is d-da-ark s-side" even after he finish Earth didn't push him away like he had feared, didn't yell and scream at him like Luna made him believe after so many years to listening to Luna's mind making up every possible out come of Earth finding out about him. Instead the habitual planet arm tighten around him, letting him cry into his chest as he resumed rubbing small circles into his back.

Earth didn't let the silence continue for long before as countless questions began to pop up in his mind "If you're Luna's dark side how come I never heard of you before" their planet asked trying to keep his voice a levelled and quiet as possible as to not scare the small moon again, "how come this is the first time I've meet you?"

"Be-because L-lu-Luna didn't want you too, neither of us did..." he answered, his voice thick as he spoke, turning his head slightly to breath in the cold space 'air' filling his lungs with the fresh air, his brain relax as he stoped suffocating himself with Earth's hoodie.

Earth's brows lowered as he looked down on the small satellite in his lap, listening to their soft breath as they start to calm down, "Why didn't you want to meet me?" He asked, letting the small moon take their time to answer as he continued to rub his back gently.

"Luna didn't want you to hate us for being wired, because we sheared a body, he didn't want me to scare you by randomly showing up one day" his mouth felt dry as he spoke, his voice wavering as he finished, he could feel Earth's warm hands move gently to underneath his chin as he lifted his head to look straight into the moon's eyes.

"Oh, Moonlight, I could never hate you, either of you!" Earth said his eyes were soft and loving just like his voice, making the smaller's core melt like sweet honey in hot tea, as their planet's hands move again to cup either side of the moon's face wiping away any remaining tears off his cheeks, "And how could I ever be scared of such a cute face!" Earth's caring voice made him want to cry all over again as relief floods to his core, all the guilt and hatred he felt being lifted off his shoulders, shoving his face into Earth hoodie, before small tears escaped his closed eyes as HIS planet returned to rub his back gently as the shock of the moon's sudden movement wore off, instead Earth quietly hummed to his satellite, a smile etched into his face, as he looked up at the stars above them, his mind wondering as he thought about his moons, "do you have a name? Earth asked before he was able to stop himself "like Luna" he continued his core aches at the moon freezing in his arms.

A quiet "No." was his only answer as the moon fingers traced down the planet's hoodie, enjoying the soft fabric against his skin and the short distraction from the sinking feeling settling in his stomach, he never like thinking about his lack of a name.

“Would you like one?" Earth asked his voice filled with sorrow, as he tried to comfort the small moon in his arms.

“Y-y-you'd do that for me!" His eyes sparkled in the sun's light looking up at the planet, his hands gripping onto hoodie.

“Of course! but now to find the perfect name…" Earth said, his face became neutral as he lend back making the moon prop himself up on his arms, as Earth let his head fall back in deep thought, letting out a small hum, his mind wonder over all the name the Earthlings have called his little moons over the billions of years they've roamed his surface, but none stuck out as he mouthed each one, until he remembered the perfect choice, the Ancient Greek equivalent of Luna's own name, meaning Light, brightness and gleam and while the small moon doesn't shine in the Earthling sky like Luna dose, he eyes sure as hell do! almost bright then the stars around them.

“I got it!” The small moon's face lit up as Earth spoke hanging on every word that comes out of him mouth, "you shall be called Selene! A name only for the most worthy of Moon!" Earth boated dramatically his head up into the air, crossing one arm around his chest and another resting onto Selene's shoulder almost like he was crowning the moon with a highly esteemed title (and it was in Selene's mind at lest) only stoping his dramatic performance as a poorly muffled laugh filed the air from the small moon, a smile evident in his face, Selene looked away after meeting the planet’s gazes, slightly embarrassed by Earth seeing them laugh so openly, his core never felt so full…

Earth couldn’t help the small smile from reaching own face, he never knew just how much of himself was missing before he met Selene, any upset he felt at the two moons for hiding Selene for so long, were almost forgiven the moment he saw the moon’s face light up with joy as he laughed at Earth’s performance, probably the first time in a very long time (Earth’s core ached at the thought but that was a issue for another Lunar orbit) instead he kept quiet enjoying the moon’s presence before his impulse kicked in, leaning down to press a soft kiss onto Selene’s forehead making the moon freeze in place, Earth wrapped his arms around the moon, pulling him close as Selene melted into his chest, a world wind of a day began to eat away at his remaining energy, slowly getting lolled to sleep as he felt Earth chest softly rise and fall, the planet running his fingers throw Selene’s hair, said moon let his eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

[the-blossica-fan]

Since it's essentially canon (I think?) that 37 can speak both fluent English and Greek, I had the mental image of her doing a maths class for the Arcanists in the suitcase, and explaining it in English, before noticing an error.

She corrects it. But then finds it makes another error.

The next thing everyone sees and hears, 37 is speaking in Greek to herself while frantically trying to figure out where the problem started 😭

I WATCHED A VIDEO LIKE THAT

A Chinese man had to switch to Chinese in order to understand the problem. It also happens to me 😭

I can imagine 37 explaining basic mathematics to the Rayashki kids (I imagine they have a lot of teachers now that they're in the foundation/suitcase) and since it's been a long time since she made the most basic of mathematics, she had to stop at a medium difficulty problem to check

She would start by pointing out something like density, then suddenly she went to division and when you notice it she's rambling in Greek and writing in a separate blackboard to see the problem

Turns out she mistranslated a word

Sophia would have fixed that- okay I'll shut up 😊

[painterofhorizons]

Twenty months after Akuze, cake seems to be her new nemesis.

Reda stares at the soft vanilla sponge cake in front of her for a full five minutes without noticing the time passing by or the glare on Cynthia’s face growing more and more concerned. Finally, the older woman decides to interrupt the stare-off.

“You okay?”

Reda immediately nods without blinking, as if she’s following orders, eyes fixating the cake, and picks a small piece onto her pastry fork, giving the impression both the cake and the fork are soaked in acid.

“I’m fine”, she reassures Cynthia, voice as absentminded as her whole presence.

She stares at the tiny piece of cake on the pastry fork. It’s the fork with the decorated end, a small ceramics ball with a decent floral pattern, the one Cynthia only uses for special occasions. Like birthdays, or bullshit like surviving what killed fifty and should have killed her, too.

Her skin starts tingling.

“You don’t have to-“

“I said I’m fine”, Reda cuts her, a little sharper than necessary, and adds in a slightly more defensive tone “It’s fine, really. It’s just my head getting in the way sometimes.”

She ignores Cynthia’s demur that they don’t have to have cake right now, and forces herself to chew and swallow that tiny bite of horribly sweet and soft vanilla sponge cake on the fancy pastry fork. She gets herself to take two more tiny bites from the slice on her plate, before the creeps on her scalp get too bad to just sit here and continue eating cake.

“Just my head”, she mutters again, and wants to crack a half heartened smile, if only for Cynthia, but she can’t. “The cake’s good. I’m good. It’s fine.”

Her skin is itching so bad.

She asked for this, after all. For the cake. This specific cake in particular. The same recipe Cynthia has made since she’d moved in shortly before her sixteenth birthday, eight years ago.

She wanted cake.

Or maybe she just wanted to want cake.

Or maybe something completely different.

She can’t tell, her mind is a huge vast empty blank fucking hole right now.

But Cynthia made the cake, the one that she asked for, and she will eat it and not be an ungrateful little shit.

It’s just cake, she tells herself.

But her skin is on fire.

[afterartist]

Small sneak peek to the Barrierfall world building

Not even 1/4 of a way done but hey, a few people have seemed interested recently

(Actual Spoilers btw)

Key:

Blue: Important Story Plot

Green: General World Building

Red: Character Death

Yellow: Magic related Information

White: unsorted

Again this isn’t even half of the stuff that’s gonna happen

But I suck at physically writing notes down in general so be proud of me ):<

[hinamie]

the fact that the fight happened 2 days after his 16th birthday kills me. I need more megumi birthday angst pieces please 🙏🙏🙏

on it boss give me 3 days :)

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

hermie unworthy 🤝 henry oak

having falsely-manufactured memories of your youth that ultimately ring hollow, because the truth is that your father robbed you of what your upbringing should have been and you woke up without a childhood at all. and you were left to put together the pieces.

[strawberrycamel]

ninjago seabound hurts. so much. what the fuck

[0vergrowngraveyard]

what if i made another au for funsies?

what then?

[miraluking-respectfully]

felix being referred to more or less exclusively as "your soldier" in-game speaks to how little the writers put into his character beyond his noggin full of sith secrets & his relationship with the consular; still, i do find it kind of sweet and funny, in a way. he's not a republic soldier, not even your personal bodyguard; he's your soldier. the consular is a small nation-state in and of herself

[lets-try-some-writing]

i wish more continuities played with the horror of being revived after your (presumably) grisly demise. It must be real traumatizing right?? Like, it's gotta be! It could really help with characterizing/building a particular character too (cough optimus cough).

You my dear requester have come to exactly the right writer for this request. I have a fic based on this general premise called A Mere Shadow if you are interested. However, I will never turn down the chance to hurt my blorbo even more.

I may have gone a bit nuts with this concept so hold on-

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

A Shadow of Death

Optimus Prime has been faced with death many times. Even as Orion Pax he did not fear it. Death was a fact of life, one he came to accept in his youth. The Matrix only further eliminated that intrinsic desire to flee the possibility of being killed. To a certain extent, it was a blessing as it kept him from faltering at crucial moments, even if he was met with pain for his determination.

Blaster shots a little too close to his spark chamber for comfort, stab wounds deep enough to be concerning, plague of the deadly variety, and more close calls than he dared to count... they were all nothing compared to the true call and agony of death. The fire that rained down on the base that fateful cycle was torture for Optimus. When Smokescreen found him, he very nearly begged Primus to let him die. Only once he was dragged away did he have time to think and to rationalize. Living in that state was a torment, but at the time, he knew it was to end. He made his peace with death long ago. He did not fear its embrace.

It was painful, but it was meant to end. He felt his spark abandon his frame, he sensed his mortality fading as he gave up his life in the line of duty. He was not content, but he was ready to pass and leave the burden behind. It had been so long, and finally, death welcomed him into its patient arms. Its chill wrapped around him, digging into the core of his being. It ached, but it was not unpleasant, especially as he began to see the fallen welcoming him, beckoning him to come home. His attachments faded and for the first time since he was a youngling, he was at peace. He did not expect to be drawn back sharply by a power he instinctively knew belonged to another Prime. He did not know what to think when he woke in his new frame, one built stronger, faster, and more capable. However he knew it was wrong, or rather his frame was not the only thing about him to change.

There was not time to think or time to consider. All he could do was fight and spend the next several cycles focused on getting his team settled. They needed to see he was strong, and so he kept up the façade as weeks passed and a shadow of death hung over him. He could not tell them, for what would he say? How was he supposed to explain the oddities that hung around him at all hours, making him suffer in silence while unable to speak. Something didn't let him, almost as if there were rules that forbade him to reveal that which weighed on him to those who could not sense his discomfort as he could.

It began the first time he returned to their new base after a scouting mission. He had been chilled ever since he was reforged and thought it perhaps due to his spark adjusting to the new frame or vice versa. He spent hours flying and moving, working his engine and his thrusters to the point of his plating being hot to the touch. Despite that... he was cold, not in painful manner, but merely... uncomfortable. It was enough to keep his senses sharp and yet it was unnatural. He went to Ratchet to try and have his frame examined, but all the doctor could tell him was that it must have been a quirk of his reforging. His systems were operating fine and his fans were regulating his temperature even better than before. There was no reason for him to feel chilled unless it was a mental issue. At that Ratchet attempted to have him sit down for a mental exam, but Optimus waved it off as his frame still taking time to settle.

Optimus did not bring up the topic again, not even when he stood beside burning buildings and still felt that coldness seeping into his protoform. He could feel digits caressing his plating, yet when he tried to check his sensors, there was nothing there. The cold haunted him, and in the end, he wrote it off as a punishment of eluding death one too many times.

The cold was bearable, but he hated recharge with a passion. Up until his reforging, recharge was one of the rare blessed moment of rest he was allowed. But now? He dreaded every instance where his frame demanded time to recover. He tried to drag it out for as long as he could with additives and all sorts of substitutes for rest, including plugging his processors into the database to defrag while he was still up and active. But in the end, the need eventually came, or the team would grow suspicious and he would be forced to retreat to his berth all the same.

Laying down for recharge was always comforting. It was familiar and allowed age old routine to take over, allowing him to vent deeply and simply feel for a while. But that is when the trouble always started. Optimus could never stop himself from feeling the pull of recharge. Once it set in, he couldn't move. His frame froze up and despite him being quite active mentally, his frame eased and rested, falling into recharge long before he did. Sometimes his optics were unshuttered, other times they weren't when the paralysis set in. Whatever the case, it always felt like he was back in that cave, bleeding out and in agony. It was terrifying to be stuck in that paralysis before recharge as nearly every time there was a haunting moment when his vents failed to work and his spark ceased in its blaze for but a nanoklik. But Primus, that one nanoklik always felt like an eternity where his frame almost seemed uncertain if it was alive or dead.

At the end of that long nanoklik he could feel digits running along his frame and he could see things in the corner of his vision regardless of whether or not his optics were functioning. Whispers that he could not comprehend echoed in his audials as his frame began to ache, desperate for ventilation and for energon to continue flowing. Then just as it started to grow unbearable, almost as if he were about to die, then his frame would return to its normal functioning and the paralysis would fade. For the first few deca-cycles after his restoration, Optimus threw himself to his pedes after such incidents and took up the night watch, unwilling to recharge after the threat of death hung over him.

He almost went to Ratchet, he almost burdened his oldest friend with his fears. So many cycles he spent nearly half in recharge as he fought against the need for rest, terrified of that looming death that never came. He did not fear death, but its agony was something he grew to be wary of. It was nearly enough to force him to act and plead with his team for aid. However in the end... he abstained, even though it pained him more when the dreams began.

Optimus had always dreamed, even as Orion. It was part of his nature, and gaining the Matrix only gave his dreams more vividness and viability. And yet... after being reforged, he no longer dreamed at all, at least not as he used to. When he fell into recharge, he found himself in a void with no light, no sound, and nothing to help him determine if he was up, down, or even within his own frame. He could never see his servos, nor could he sense himself moving if he willed himself to. He was simply left in a world of darkness for hours, unable to feel anything except the chill that plagued him during his waking cycles. That alone was nerve wracking but manageable due to the strange sense of peace he found within that void. Sometime he could swear he saw motes of light dash past him, slipping through that void and vanishing before he had time to observe them. He made it habit to search out those motes of light while within the void that came for him during recharge. It kept him occupied and made the chill less startling.

He learned to recharge through it all, but never for long. The lack of rest made itself known throughout his waking hours as he wandered and did his work. The chill kept him awake, but he could not stop himself from feeling the pull of that cold void whenever his focus slipped. It was almost as though it was calling him, trying to reclaim him after he escaped its grasp. Sometimes when he was particularly unfocused, he would find himself standing under the stars, watching and observing, unable to move as his mind seemed to leave the confines of his frame. In those instances he could sense things, he could see those same motes of light dashing around him, and with time, he came to understand what they were.

Life, sparks, souls.

It took time, but he came to understand. By the time Megatron was gunning to rebuild the Omega Lock and Ratchet left to join that effort, Optimus found himself... colder. He had never feared death, it was a part of life he didn't care to know but accepted all the same. Now though? Now he understood it. The chill forever sunk into his frame, and he noted that what once was a mere mental issue became reality. He was cold to the touch, even after battle. Things grew to be more distant, or rather less important as the cycles passed him by. The void that he walked in was trying to reclaim him. He could sense it in the way his spark flared and grew dimmer. The void wanted him back, and every day he was drawn closer to it.

What frightened him after his reforging grew to be commonplace. He didn't fear it anymore. The void that came in dreams came to be a second home of sorts, one he grew more adept at seeing the sparks within. It seemed wrong for him to be at peace with the way his mind shifted and how he no longer was terrified of those brief moments where his frame threatened to fail. It simply did not bother him when he saw the void in the corners of his vision or when chilled digits touched him. It became familiar, and with that familiarity, the living realm grew more distant.

He did not emote often, at least not as the others did. Now he did not express himself at all. There was no need. The world was changed for him. The team worried but chalked it up to Ratchet being gone. They were partially correct. Without that mortal tie, the cold came and seeped deeper, making it easier to slip and see the cracks, the thinner places between reality where sparks darted, returning to their maker after their lives ended. It fascinated him, even though it often had him staring into what the others considered empty space when he was supposed to be acting.

He was changing, and what fully solidified that for him was when he began to feel the chill of death closing in around others. He first noted it around Vehicons, mainly those who had brushes with death or were unfortunately killed in combat. There was little he could do for them, as usually by the time he noted the chill, it had already wrapped around the Vehicon in question, dooming them to their fate. He only acted when he felt it around Arcee before she tried to enter a groundbridge. It was harder to feel, but he still stopped her. When questioned, he found he could not speak and explain, so he opted for vague wording, hoping it would help her to see and understand.

Arcee: Optimus, what was that for?

Optimus: You cannot go there. The chill follows you.

Arcee: Sir? What does that mean.

Optimus: Danger Arcee. A threat I cannot save you from.

Arcee: I don't understand-

Optimus: You do not need to. I sense the chill, I see the looming cloud. Do not go. You shall not return if you do.

Harder to focus, harder to think. Whenever he was not working, Optimus watched the sparks come and go, observing with a strange distant affection he could not place. All the while the chill grew deeper, closer to his spark, and his frame became weary despite its power. He was changing...

And the void wanted him back.

[industria-adastra]

[PMMM] And so, I fell in love alone - CHAPTER ONE: even if that love is lost, believe in me again

Summary: “I love you” (A different you, a “you” that no longer exists for “me”)

Or: A story of unrequited, violent love

Pairing: Kriemhild Gretchen/Akemi Homura

Note: As usual this is also on ao3. This fic was entirely inspired by listening to Magic Ring Night from the Royal Scandal series (the new remake ver) and reading its translated lyrics. This is technically the "first meeting" fic for those two, as this is also part of the same universe as "Ideal Heaven", "like clockwork orange (keep your eyes buttered open 'til the end)", and "i woke, i prayed, i screamed, a vagitus cry", where Homura has the worst time of her life ever. But hey, at least she has a loving(?) girlfriend (???). Probably.

Next

-

On the eighth day, Kriemhild Gretchen was born, blindly reaching for the stars; a vagitus scream detonating like a bomb, engulfing the world in a cacophonous melody. She clawed her way out of the jewelled womb, full of a higher purpose, full of knowledge and yet bereft of it at the same time. An endless slideshow of images and sounds played out in her mind, digging into her flesh and drip-dropping into her blood, adding to her skeleton made from emotion.

What a horrible place, what a wonderful place. It needed to be preserved, it needed to be saved. Kriemhild opened her maw and swallowed it all, to herald a flood of stomach acid to cleanse the filth and allow them to be reborn in purity. But something was missing, something was missing, something was missing. It rattled in her brains, tearing at the walls, chewing away at her thoughts. She clambered and crawled through foreign sensations, skittering through the labyrinth of herself.

A set of smiles and tears created the treasures for her clockwork cage heart; a sunny morning, a mermaid, a dress-up doll, a paper doll, a spider with bejewelled eyes, spinning thread atop the thundering rapids. Kriemhild stretched her arms out, pouring through the cracks and twisting through the sky with a crackle and snap, with a fleshy squirming buzzing with anticipation. Her head twisted with a creak-creak-crack, and the world spun alongside its central axis. Something was coming, something was coming, something was coming; Something important, more than the rest. The tick-tick-tack-tock in her ears grew louder and louder, as she got closer and closer. 

Knock, knock, anyone there? She rapped on the ribcage doors, bleached white and weathered, looking deep into herself. 

MA

DO

KA

And what was there? A pretty girl, a bloody girl, a teary-eyed girl, a lost girl—off the correct path of absolute salvation. Trembling from awe, trembling from Kriemhild Gretchen’s might. A bloody little bird shivering in her palms. Her eyes lowered down, gazing down, bug-like, only centimetres away—monitoring it. How cute, how cute, even with snot on its face and vomit on its feet. So disgustingly imperfect and so far from the ideal that was Her. 

Maybe she’d braid its feathers as she showed it paradise; it'd look better that way, Kriemhild mused, running fingers over fragile bird bones, lightly, lightly. It was already thrashing in her hands, crumbling down like a star shower, about to leave, about to escape. The clockwork started to become fainter and fainter.

(You can't leave me)

Kriemhild struck fast, holding tight onto its arms, pinching it cleanly into two. And now it stopped thrashing, stopped doing something that would lead to futile self-harm. (It couldn't leave her here, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't— Everyone was dead and gone and gone and gone Homura you can't leave me too) Instead, it only stared up at her, awed by her benevolence. The galloping thump-thump-thump of its little heart charged ahead of the steady thuds of Kriemhild’s own heartbeat.

If you didn't clip its wings, it’d only hurt itself.

MA

DO

KA

The clattering of metal, dry heaving in her ears, the building crescendo of a scream arose with the tension of a long bygone climax—only to be cut off by a wet noise of surprise, joined by the explosion of amniotic fluid and the spilling rain on the concrete.

MA

DO

KA

Oh, it was crying again. How cute, how cute. Kriemhild laughed and laughed and laughed, curling her hands around it like a cage. She’d surely show it paradise.

And on the eighth day, Kriemhild Gretchen fell in love.

[conivolos]

cheers ive been so Productive today. and yet. i havent written a single thing in weeks