#I guess I just want to scream out into the void and have someone hear

[enby-dragoon]

I just had a big argument with my mother, and I need to vent a little.

We were discussing laws and legality, and I mentioned that some of our laws were racist (we live in a very racist country, one of our political parties is all but an open Nazi party, and open racists. Only two out of eight major parties are even center-left, of which one is almost a single issue climate party) and... She refused to consider it, always deflected to talking about how the law is enforced (which is also racist, to be fair).

I took up examples of racist laws, and she could accept it when it was from another country, but as soon as it came to our own she was all "Well I haven't seen it." incapable of even considering it.

Things got heated and I said that arguing with her is just like arguing with a Nazi (which she got quite mad at, probably my fault for using such a charged word, I'll admit that).

I explained it to her later, but the basic idea goes like this:

'It's not a problem, and if it is a problem then it isn't our fault, and if it is our fault it's not a common thing, and if it is common it's not that big of a deal.'

They always try and deflect away because they know, on some level, that they don't really have a good argument.

just as I had predicted to my father (who was trying to defuse the situation), she admitted she could think of a few racist laws (one she even took up earlier!), but that it was a recent thing that only happened in the past 2 years when the really racist party started to become really popular. 'It's not a common thing' essentially.

I've never really been able to argue with her, she always has to win, and she always twists things around so she's the victim. At best she'll concede a few days later that I might have been right about something, and then do it again after a week or two.

It hurts but... I don't know if she'll ever change how she acts as long it would inconvenience her or force her to admit she might be wrong.

I don't know if I can trust her. I don't know if I ever could and I've just been lying to myself for years.

When I first came out as trans I was really nervous and she was excited because she thought I'd gotten a girlfriend, despite the fact that I'd already told her I was AroAce. At the time it hurt a bit, but... Thinking back on it, I don't think she ever really saw me as AroAce, and I'm not sure she really see's me as trans either. It doesn't align with the idea of me in her head, and so I have to be wrong.

I'm scared of how she'll react when I start my transition. I don't know if I'll be safe with her. She's cautioned me against HRT several times before...

My sister gave up, moved to another city to get away from her. Maybe she was right.

I've been trying to get her to change for years. maybe it's time to admit I can't. She won't change for me, no matter how much I beg. She doesn't want to change.

Maybe I should just give up...

I just... I don't know what to do.

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I loved Worship but it got me thinking about like what if someone kept calling her mean stuff during the show and just boys reacting to their girl getting slandered tnx

Guess who got carried away? 😂 I love it guys, thank you for popping into my ask. I really love seeing your ideas!🤍✨

Sleep token x reader

For the record

It’s the usual shenanigans that get the show going. Considering that everyone was in a good mood tonight was already labeled to be a solid night. It always felt the best like this. When everyone was fully relaxed and enjoying themselves. You had lingered back with IV before the show, too lost in bickering until it was him messily making sure that your headset was on before someone thrust his guitar into his hands. A little wink. A little nudge. And it was back to the place you had grown to love. Crave deep within your soul.

It’s behind II that you sing some of your most beautiful solos. Finding your way up on his seat while his hands go up and down your thighs. Mostly trying to make sure that you don’t fall back but enough to seem that he’s more than happy to sit between your thighs while you stand above him. It’s the fleeting kisses that you keep sharing with IV tonight. One after another, every time you pass by. Till it’s almost funny when he’s right in front of you. Pretending as if it’s an unexpected bump in. It’s Vessel that you fall to your knees to and he’s more than happy to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in only to push your face to the side. Making you fake fallback as you lay your limp there for a couple of beats. Enjoying the roar of the crowd. III manages to trap you in between his guitar and you as you both swing to the beat. Your fingers trailing up and down his thighs.

But it was the odd eyes that you kept on landing on. First row. Right in front of you. Ones that made you sick to your stomach. Ones that you tried to avoid. But you kept on coming and coming back. And it’s when you come towards the edge of the stage to sing yet another part of your siren song that you hear it. “Cheep Whore”, “Band filth”, “Shared bitch”. Rolling in and in. With more and more people turning their heads towards the people screaming at the tops of their lungs.

And it’s as if the words had scorched you. You find yourself backing away. Till you hit something solid and warm. A hand coming to steady you. But you pull back just as fast. Turnning to find a pissed-looking Vess. “Keep going”, your mouth, letting yourself trail your gaze over the rest of the band. Only to find another three pissed faces. You grab Vessel’s hand, pulling him closer, “Do the rest of the show the way it was supposed to be”, you begged, “Leave it and keep going. They will follow”.

A wave of relief washes over you as he steps away. Continuing the next song. III blazing eyes are the next thing you see but you just shake your head at him. Even if the poor pick gets thrown across the stage and not in a nice way. But they stick through. Faces tight. The atmosphere off. The magic faded. The feeling was lost. You stick to the furthest part of the sage, doing your parts as if glued to it. The moment the last sounds of the cords fade, you’re turning onto your heel, diving backstage.

You feel stupid almost, that something that was going on in comments and posts for some time now had finally made you slip up. Cause you didn’t care. Not really…. right? “Y/N”, a bang sounded at the door making you flinch, “You in here?”. A part of you wants to keep quiet. Let this fade into the back too. But you hear the commotion, not enough to understand what the bickering is about, before a much louder banging ring through the quiet space. “Open the door”, IV's voice is much more strict than II’s. The agitation oozed out. “I am taking my makeup off”, your voice cracks, and your silent scream into the void within because you know that they would have heard it. “You take it off in the bus while we drink, don’t start bullshiting me now”, IV rattles the hand and you suddenly start to wonder how long it would take for him to break the door.

“Look”, II cuts in, “I get it, you want to be by yourself but we kind of got a situation going on with III”, and it’s enough to make you step closer to the door. Because you care about them and if III is flying off the handle it would be your fault. “What happened?”, you mutter, pressing your face against the door. You’re met with silence but it’s enough for you to know that they are looking at one another now, silently debating their next words.

“Jumped off stage and took off towards the pit”, and that’s enough for you to yank the door open. You just don’t get to go as far as two pairs of hands pulling you back. “Come here”, you hear IV mutter before you were met with II's embraces. The warmth of him cutting deep through you. Making your eyes sting. Yet you pushed back, trying to escape them both. “Let me go, let me talk to him”, you wheezed. “It’s taken care of”, IV cut in, “He’s backstage somewhere, you don’t need to worry”.

You looked up at them, “You tricked me, idiots”. IV reached to catch your face, “You ran off, locked yourself in a fucking bathroom. What do you expect that we baked you cookies?”. “IV”, II hissed, “What he was trying to say is that we care for you and that shit on the stage shouldn’t have happened”. You fist II shirts, trying to keep your composure, “I don’t care and don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it”, you sighed in frustration. You needed out, or you would cry and you hadn’t yet done that in front of the boys.

“This is a mutual choice”, Vessel’s voice fills the space, “If we mess around, we mess around together. One of us having to take shit for it is bullshit”. And that’s when you see him. Rubbing his left hand’s chuckles. Your whole body drains from your body. “You punched him didn’t you?”, you mutter, already thinking of all the articles. And what for? After all the years of staying out of bad PR. Your legs move on their own accord and with a couple of steps you are wrapped up in III’s arms. “For the record, I missed”, he grunts. And that’s the thing that snaps the last bit. A strange strangled noise leaves your lips before you can clap a hand over your mouth. The look in III eyes shifts, “I would go back there, just saying”, he mutters before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.

“I need Chinese tonight”, II throws it out in the open. Making the salty stream of tears down your cheeks feel less pathetic in a way, as everyone snorts in their toes. “I call dibs for the bus bed tonight”, Vess points out and it’s as if nothing had happened. The same dynamic between you five talking is usually formed. “You’ve slept there for the last two stops”, III is quick to remind him, yet his eyes are still on you. Quietly assessing the real damage. “And before you say it, you aren’t special because you’re long and skinny”, Vess simply flips III off before the room is once again filled with laughter. You feel soft hands brushing against your chin before your head is gently nudged upwards. Meeting IV eyes within a blink. “Head up, little siren”, he muses, brushing the tears off your cheeks, “Can’t have you loosing your spark”. You nod tightly, trying to not let another wave of emotions cloud your eyes. “For the record, I would eat you out”, III shrugs, making the rest of them chorus his name with curses following right after.

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[loth-creatures]

I’d love to hear your wall of text about the Sion’s voyage!

Aight, so if there's one thing I hated about the show it's that the journey to a whole ass new galaxy felt like it took 5 minutes. So in my star war it takes roughly 7 weeks and it fucking SUCKS

Disclaimer; this is just a huge mess from my head, nothing is set in stone, and I'm only really planning to comicify the last few parts ;)

Also cw for some implied self-harm ideation, terrible coping mechanisms, deteriorating mental health, violence and injuries (just mentioned, not in detail)

To set the scene, they're using the training/rec room as Sabine’s prison bc Wolfbine is too big for the actual brig lol. Much to the entire crew's irritation. The first week or two they just handcuff her in a corner at blasterpoint whenever they want to use it I guess, and find a closet to lock loose equipment in. At least she gets some entertainment. She probably also gets beat up a few times (you should see the other guy) for commenting on people's techniques. But eventually they decide she probably won't try anything and stop caring she's there, so she's left alone for the most part.

She spends a lot of time working out, bc otherwise she is strongly considering bashing her head into the wall. Having to sit alone as a human and pace in circles as a wolf for days on end with the weight of her decision and all kinds of fresh guilt is doing terrible things to her head...She is also spending a lot of time trying and failing not to sob and scream in the shower when no one's around. There is also a viewport in the rec room and Sabine spends an unhealthy amount of time staring into the rainbow swirl of hyperspace. She can't tell whether or not she's hallucinating the strange shapes that occasionally drift into view, singing strange songs that she can feel more than hear. It reminds her of the ocean and she shudders and dreams of drowning, being crushed by the depths. And she dreams of Ezra alone and lost in this void. There's no easy way to break free of such thoughts when she's essentially trapped in a fish bowl.

Meanwhile, Shin hates Sabine even more now for making her a Wolfwalker. She is not adjusting well to turning into a giant beast every time she tries to sleep and on a cramped vessel with little space to stretch those legs. Having been bitten only just before boarding the Sion, she hasn't had the chance to run wild for miles with the wind in her fur; all she knows is that the journey feels twice as long and horrid when she's consious 24/7. Baylan, on the other hand, is like DO YOU REALIZE HOW AWESOME THIS IS?! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING HER. He's not jealous persay, but. Well. Careful what you wish for...

Wolf Sabine and Shin are both getting major zoochosis smh. It's a miracle Shin hasn't killed a random crew member yet. Wolfbine behaves for maybe a week before she starts chewing up the flooring and howling and screaming husky style just to be a little shit. See how long it takes before someone threatens to shoot her, muzzle her, throw her out the airlock (not long). She can't afford to antagonize the crew too much bc there is only one person on the entire ship who wants her there and he has limited authority. Baylan is quick to remind her of this.

He also makes several attempts to talk to her and get on better terms, as he would like to learn more about the wolves. He tells her of the old fragments of stories of Wolfwalkers he found in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and his facsination with them and how chasing such tales lead to his other ambitions. Lowkey info-dumping about all the fairy-tales and mythalogical stuff that Shin never took an interest in. Sabine is deathly bored enough to tolerate it to extent, but she is not forgiving him for 'killing' Ahsoka, for digging in her head, for putting her in this situation, and she is absolutely kicking herself for having bitten Shin. For letting anyone affiliated with the Empire close to Lothal's secrets. Too her it's put a deep crack through her promise to protect Lothal, perhaps not as much as having given Thrawn a way home, but she's going to try her damnest to undo that one, and shoves that looming guilt aside as best she can, instead spiraling about the fact that she made Shin a Wolfwalker and short of killing her there is no undoing that. So most of her conversations with Baylan end with telling him to go fuck himself.

Just now realizing I've never gone into detail about why Sabine bit Shin. It was a complete accident. Split second reaction out of pain after taking another small slice from Shin’s lightsaber during their fight on Seatos, which she was able to heal herself but it slowed her down enough for Shin to escape. With a nasty little nip to the arm.

That all said Sabine does not want to kill Shin, in fact she's just starting to feel sorry for her. Shin might be all MY ARCH NEMESIS SABINE WREN, but from the beginning Sabine is just like ugh can this random chick stop making my life harder 🙄

And if she's this miserable as a wolf rn, she can imagine what Shin's going through as a first timer, which is all her fault :( plus the fact that as wolves they are instinctively drawn to other wolves and each of their suffering seems to exacerbate the other's. They are both so lonely. 2 weeks in and (human)Sabine is bored and desperate enough to try heckling Shin into sparring with her, on the rare occasion she passes by (Shin’s been avoiding that room). 3 weeks in and Shin's gotten bored and desperate enough to accept the invitation.

I hc that during a friendly match, most Force-users will refrain from using the Force against a non-Force-user for the most part. Shin is not interested in friendly and absolutely hammers Sabine unless Baylan is there to remind her to play nice. Sabine is fine with this. She wants Shin to use the Force (come at me bro). If anyone's gonna be holding back it's Sabine. She wants to get as familiar as possible with Shin's fighting skill and habits without revealing the full extent of her own, while also slowly learning to anticipate and work around Shin’s use of the Force. That way she'll have an advantage the next time they fight for reals. It's difficult to impossible to hold back though, while still presenting enough of a challenge to keep Shin coming back for more.

While Sabine is more experienced, with a wider range of techniques and more refined skill, Shin is still skilled and powerful and it's hardly a fair fight without her armor and gear. She gets her shit rocked.

Sabine is very rarely able to beat Shin when she's using the Force. But she can withstand her. Many of their fights don't end with a quick, decisive victory so much as Shin just wearing Sabine down until she physically can't fight anymore though she refuses to tap out or surrender. Because for one, it's pissing Shin off, which is fun. And for two, ending the fight means returning to the hell that is sitting alone and staring out that window until it makes her sick in the head. She would kill a man for a single can of paint.

While Shin is toying with Sabine and using her as a bunching bag on the basis that she asked for it, keeps asking for it, doesn't know when to give up, and totally deserves it 😤, she is no easy opponent and Shin is continuously shocked by Sabine's ability to survive her. She was supposed to be just another enemy to tear through, yet has survived two murder attempts, and Shin is now stuck with her on this godforsaken ship for some reason, and she doesn't even have the grace to admit when she's defeated. Unstoppable force has met unmovable object.

Shin simultaneously resents and admires her, though doesn't quite respect her yet. And she definitely fears her a little (though she would never admit that). I kinda get the vibe that Shin’s never really lost a fight, has never truly been left for dead at the end of a battle, and the thought terrifies her. Either she is invincible or she is dead. Meanwhile Sabine can be coughing up blood and she'll be like 'cool see you tmr'✌️😎 The fact that Shin probably deleted one of Sabine's kidneys on Lothal and she seems hardly intimidated is well. Intimidating. And annoying. And hot.

I feel like at some point Baylan would point out that Shin could probably learn a thing or two from Sabine if she would stop beating the shit out of her for two seconds. Shin is already aware of that but doesn't want to admit it.

Meanwhile Sabine just doesn't care anymore what happens to her as long as she lives long enough to get off this accursed vessel, doesn't care how hurt she gets, as long as it passes the time and distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. She's offered a medic multiple times and refuses each time. She doesn't want them seeing the full extent of her injuries and then finding out she can heal herself with the wolf-magic, bc the Empire doesn't need to know about that. She only heals the worst injuries and then gaslights Shin about it. 'You did not break any ribs lol I'm fine quit flattering yourself.' Shin’s like how the fuck are you still standing.

This routine of brutally taking out their frustrations on each other is gonna get old though, and is completely unsustainable. Eventually Shin’s convinced that Sabine is just using her for pain. Which isn't wrong even if it's not the only or even primary reason Sabine keeps asking. Sabine calls her out on fighting like a coward and enjoying hurting her anyway. Shin goes and sulks for a few days after that (not without punching Sabine in face first).

Ok time out. What the hell is Shin’s deal anyway. I have only some half-baked ideas about Baylan and Shin’s...thing. They're like the closest thing we've gotten to 'grey Jedi?' I guess? I've been operating under the assumption that that's what they're essentially trying to be (though it's not what they'd call themselves), something more than Jedi, Baylan says, and that 'more' is just chasing power. They will inevitably fall completely. Probably need to watch the show again to get a better read on them tbh but I would rather not. It will hurt my feelings again :( Baylan is like the mountain. He's calm, he's steady and the darkness erodes him slowly. He thinks he's successfully toeing the line with the dark side, but his faults are most evident in Shin's training. She is like a hurricane. The Force rips through her, chaotic and volatile and her control is iron yet brittle. She hasn't known inner peace a day in her life. She just taught herself restraint in the sense that she suppresses her power until she needs it to plow through her enemies. She will fall far more quickly than her master. Baylan's teachings follow the Jedi's to an extent but once the darkness is let in, those lessons become skewed and contradicted, and Shin is a mess because of it, only mirroring her master's control on the surface. Baylan isn't the worst teacher but he is not a good one. While Shin loves and trusts Baylan, she is getting tired and frustrated following his mysterious whispers of legends to an end he never explains clearly. And she is afraid.

ANYWAY, once Shin’s done sulking, one of these days her and Sabine are gonna have a genuine conversation or two and maybe agree to an actually friendly sparring match in which they agree to not just blindly pulverize each other. They take breaks and drink water and tend to their wounds like adults. And Sabine is like you know, we could just. Hang out. As wolves at least. It would suck sooo much less if you'd come play with me as a wolf xoxo. They slowly transition into a more definitive Truce.

Shin does start hanging out in the rec room as a wolf. Sabine still isn't volunteering info on the wolf magic but she does talk about what its like being wolfwalker in general. They tussel and chase each other around, often getting too rough but also loud enough that someone will come yell at them to stfu before they really hurt each other. It's much easier to take naps as wolves too after they've had a chance to burn some energy which makes the entire ship more peaceful.

However, you can't just be the first vessel in centuries to cross between galaxies and not have some kind of disaster right? Well it turns out the strange shapes out the viewport were not hallucinations. The Sion is essentially traveling through the cosmic deep ocean and there are bigger, older things than even the Purrgil out there. Nothing has an interest in attacking the Sion, but at some point something very large drifts close enough to jolt the Sion off course and shorts out the entire system. This ends up forcing them to drop out of hyperspace in the middle of absolute fucking nowhere.

It takes a few days to get the ship running again and recalculate the jump. And here's where Sabine gets to be a hero and earn some respect around here, bc most of their mechanics are droids which also shorted out and lost power. Seeing as they are at risk of losing life support, they let Sabine help with repairs and turns out she's one of the best mechanics on board, even considering the newer technology she doesn't have as much experience with. This also allows her to get more familar with the ship and find the best places to hide out when she eventually makes her escape, while simultaneously giving the crew more reason to let their guard down on her. Including Shin.

That first loss of power is the worst but there are several more blackouts along the way. Human Sabine and Shin are almost getting along now. They still don't like each other but they are hooking up (it does not fix them), and playing card games by flashlight and truth or dare. Maybe Shin even scrounges up some art supplies for Bean. Now she can pass the time hiding sharpie dicks all over the place. They are almost friends by the time there are three days left in the journey and Sabine is preparing to make her move.

Baylan was probably the one to initiate letting Sabine have her lightsaber to sparr occasionally. He wanted to test her metal as well. I think it would be interesting if they sparred a couple times. Baylan is much more chivalrous than Shin and also goes into teacher mode about sword fighting. Sabine isn't a novice anymore but he's still far more experienced. Shin is like no no no we are not adopting her Dad NO-

So anyway escape day comes, Sabine almost cronches Baylan to death, and Shin is beyond angry. Mostly at herself for letting her guard down enough to allow this to happen, she didn't really expect Sabine to not pull something like this in the end right? It's stupid to feel betrayed when it was so inevitable. She is still 100% gonna take it out on Sabine though, especially for almost killing her master.

Despite the escape attempt, Thrawn lets Sabine go as he does in the show, in the hope that she'll lead them to Ezra’s human body. He figures if anyone could find him, it would be a fellow wolfwalker who considers him dear enough to risk the fate of her entire galaxy. Everyone else is like you're just letting her go?? After all that??? And Thrawn's just like lol what did you expect from her? That's Sabine Wren. They probably do attempt to scan the ship for sabotage but it's so huge and her kyber bomb is so small and rudimentary that they don't find it.

At this point, Sabine is run utterly ragged. Bedraggled even. Having not slept in 2 days,(no room to wolf in the Sion's walls so she just had to stay awake 💀) suffered a heart attack at Baylan's hand, and got beat up by WolfShin again. She's visibly about to collapse and Thrawn's probably like 'do you...want to spend the night before you go? And a medic?' He knows he's most likely sending her to perish in the wilderness anyway, but was hoping to give her at least a chance at finding human Ezra for them. Sabine says hell no I'm getting out of here before you change your mind.

She rides until she actually does collapse, hides her body as best she can and continues as a wolf. She figures they let her go for a reason, and plans to run in erratic circles all night every night to hopefully throw them off, only later investigating any clues she finds as human for a few sporadic hours in the day. Thrawn does send Shin to track her at a distance. If she happens to find the trail of Wolf!Ezra first, kill her. This hunt through the wild will go on for several days at least, before there's any sign of Ezra.

[rolandtowen]

Chapter two (the last chapter!) of my first Cherik fic is live! Read under the cut or on ao3 :)

It's the greatest gift we have: to bear their pain without breaking.

***

     Erik feels like a drowned man. The sudden silence, sudden lack of Charles' presence--no matter how painful--is deafening. He tries to open his eyes but can't. Pressure covers his entire body, blanketing him with anxiety. For the first time in decades, he can’t sense any metal, and he’s lost without the sensation.

     Did he...die?

     Erik. You're not dead. You just have to open your eyes. Charles’ voice seeping into his mind.

     I can't—I’m so...tired.

     You can. Stay with me. Open your eyes.

     Are you sure?

     Always, my love.

***

          Air comes screaming back into Erik’s lungs as his senses flip back on full force. There's something soft beneath him, a hand on his chest, he can hear the fire crackling, Charles breathing shakily. Erik opens his eyes to find himself and Charles on the floor of the study, his head in Charle’s lap. Charles lets out a relieved gasp as he sees his eyes flutter open.

          “You’re back. I’m—I’m so sorry, I should have pulled you out sooner. Shouldn’t have done it at all, actually—”

          “No, Charles. Thank you.” Erik sat up, intensely aware of his renewed senses. How warm Charles’ hand on his was, how blue his eyes were in the yellow glow from the fire. “I needed that. I needed to understand, what I did.” He squeezed Charles’ hand. “And you can’t keep all this pain to yourself. You need to share it with someone.”

     “Funny, someone once told me that a telepath’s greatest gift is the ability to bear pain without breaking.”

     Erik smiled sadly. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have help, liebling.”

     Charles ran one of his hands in Erik’s hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

     “I wouldn’t exactly call myself ‘lucky’”.

     “Darling,” Charles chastised, “remember how we said ‘no demented penance’?”

     Okay, liebling. Just for you. “What was that, that void?”

     Charles hummed, the change of subject not lost on him. "My best guess is that when a telepath experiences someone else's death, their mind doesn't know the difference. Your brain shut down, even though your body was perfectly fine. You basically had to restart your brain."

     "So that's what you were talking me through?"

     Charles looked surprised. "Erik, I haven't been able to connect with you since that memory ended until after you woke up.”

     "I heard you. You called for me to stay. To open my eyes."

     Charles' eyes filled with sudden emotion. "Oh my darling, that wasn't me. That was your soul."

     Erik started. "What do you mean?"

     "Well, soul, heart, purpose, conscience—whatever you want to call it. That's what I think calls from the void. The physicality of your brain stops, and yet...something still called me, and called you. I have no other explanation than that there must be something driving us humans other than electrical impulses. I’m not a spiritual man, but someone called out to me in that void."

     "Who—" Erik rubbed his eyes. "Who did your conscience sound like?"

     Charles smiled wetly. "You, my love. I thought you’d taken off your helmet, but we both know how that story went.”

     Oh, Charles. “How much time we wasted,” Erik gathered Charles in his arms, and Charles settled into the crook of his neck. But you’re here now, Charles said softly in his mind. “I am,” Erik conceded. “And I want to be a proper partner. Your joy, your pain, your work—I want to help you carry it all. As you’ve done for me all these years.”

     Charles smiled against Erik’s chest. Perhaps we can start with joy. Though, I fear you’ve already seen my most joyful memories. You’re in most of them.

     And you are in mine, Erik thought. We have so many more joyful memories to make together.  

[iheartteamnuke]

Every song from Short Circuits 03 by The Garages and how it relates to Skyblock Kingdoms

Because I'm normal. Some background:

WHAT IS SHORT CIRCUITS 03? - SC3 is an album by the garages that came out in February 2022, parallel to the last short circuit season in blaseball (long story). One of the more cohesive albums that the garages made, it's about time, how fickle everything is, and what you do with what you've got. And also has the funniest disstrack ever made. (Also I'm on it)

WHY SBK? - Because there's something so finite about skyblock due to the void that's under everyone's feet, and also they're dealing with god nonsense too. So it works. And I can do whatever I want so there.

OKAY NOW ONTO THE COMPARISONS

diary entry 7/15-7/28 + fourteen days is not enough for my screams to reach your ears: O.S.S.H.A. Avid + Avoid. The horror of realizing everything can swallow you whole so quickly and being unable to stop it. There's so much you want to say. And do. And you can do none of it. So you just have to sit there. Avoid has been in limbo for 1000 years. There is so much he wants to do. So much he wants to say. He can't, there's no time and all the time in the world (if anyone's out there somewhere between me and earth / or somewhere far out in the dark places / I hope my words have brought you some comfort / for one last time, this is Alice, at the end of everything.)

will: Sapphire. Just. Everything about Sapphire. Her imprisonment in Ruby's body and how they've been there for seemingly eons and need to get out (i know my chances are gone / odds almost one thousand hundred to one / but while there's still one / one shot / im searching for a way out / i'll keep searching for a way out), the relationship between Saph + Nav as well as Ruby + Viking in general and how push and pull it is (free me, take me, see you on the other side, let me go). This is the song that made me start thinking about SBK in connection to this album as a whole because it's SO in parallel

STRIKEOUT: Doovid. I continuously describe Doovid as a webkinz soaked in milk (which he is) but he's also a lot of fun! And this song is sososososo fun but is also about the most loser webkinz soaked in milk guy ever. To be fair Doovid is not a loser, but he has the like. Vibe of someone who walked into a party without knowing anyone due to the fact that he is the only average guy on the server full of people CONSTANTLY going through it (when my horoscope said that "my life would be changed" / i thought it meant that i would get to play college basketball / but i'm here, and i hear them call my name / i guess i should go). This song could also be about Milkman if you squint.

hymn to a non-allergic reaction: my song!!! this can be taken in two/three ways- leon simping for olm (if you wanna be funny) or olm possessing vintage (if you wanna be angsty) or O.S.S.H.A. Avid tubing his friends. Hey what if god showed up and wanted you to join his cult and in order to get you to do so he wrote you the most ineffective ad jingle known to man. But also what if he made not-so-subtle threats towards your friends and alluded to your role during the end of the world (so prep your family, say goodbye [tell all of your friends goodbye] / for the sake of peace they all may die). What if you wanted literally nothing to do with this (there is another god in the sky that calls my name. i do not want to listen to it, for it does not abide by science, but nothing in this world makes sense anymore, so f*ck it all, i guess.) but couldn't get away from it so you just. Gave up. Maybe this is also about Fool but idk much about him so bear with me.

two week world: less lore and more meta- SBK and it's community! This is a small community but it's one full of love and collaboration and we will cherish it for a long time. What the SBKers do here is gonna stick with us (maybe one day our light will guide someone home).

just bad: birch please. thats it thats the whole thing. if there's a line to compare it to. were like the netherlands weather in that just like it were bad. i take no pleasure in announcing the facts.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.26

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

Something cold wakes me up in the middle of the night. With half open, I look around, only to see a silhouette standing before me, with a face I have seen so many times. It's him! I smile at him gently, believing I am in a dream from the past, far away from the reality where he was no longer. For just a second, I think I feel hands brushing some hair from my face, but I don't think much of it because dreams can be strange.

Just hearing his voice is oddly comforting, even if it sounds a little broken, but I don't care; all that matters is that I still dream about him. Even though I'm not entirely sure what happened to him, I know he's no longer with me. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I almost start to cry, but at the same time, I wipe the moisture from under my eyes. Out of nowhere, he sits next to me. But when I see his face this close, my heart fills with pure terror. Although his body looks like him, his face is a grotesque mix of his and those my people have fought against since our world existed. His face is green, with almost black scales.

My heart is racing. I've never dreamed of them before. Why now? I've never seen one with my own eyes, so how can it be so detailed? Have I forgotten something? As my heart races, panic rises so quickly that I'm ready to jump up and scream, only for this... this thing to close my eyelids again. I fall into a sudden void. Neither asleep nor awake either. At least, until the void swallows me whole.

Not long later, or at least it feels that way, I wake up again, only to see a different hand in front of me through my dazed, annoyed eyes. 

"Whoa!" I squeak and jump away. My hand is clenched into a fist, ready to strike forward and hit the person before me. With my eyes closed, I do just that. I wait a moment, but since I don't feel anything at the end of my fist, I slowly open it again.

"Should I examine your fist? Sniff it?" I hear the snarky voice of someone I unfortunately know all too well. "Nice of you to want to hit someone who just wanted to wake you up for breakfast. I guessed you were a dickhead, but that much?"

Staring into the purple eyes of this person, I could only groan in displeasure. "Who asked you to do this? The last time I remember you waking me up, you slammed an ice pick in my side and left it there so I wouldn't bleed to death."

He looks genuinely shocked; I almost believe his innocent act, but something tells me I shouldn't trust anything he says, does, or shows me. People like him can lie like it's their second nature, while their first is being cruel.

For a long moment, he stares at me like I have a second head or something. When he doesn't say or do anything, I click my tongue and push past him, not as hard as the day before, but enough to seemingly snap out of it, making him follow me. He tries to get my attention by talking to me as if all the torture never happened. But all his words only make me angrier. Even though my anger is mostly clenched thanks to the teacher from the day before, I'd probably snap at him if he didn't stop.

Luckily for both of us, we reached our room before I could lose my patience. As soon as I open the door, I find myself standing in front of two almost completely naked guys. I have never been so aware of a situation as I am at that moment. Plus, Brandon is just as much of a scumbag as Riven, who still follows me, but his body is to die for: tight muscles and a lean frame, but enough to make my mouth water. Sky, on the other hand? Man, this guy is the product of every man and woman's dream: incredibly tall, broad chest with pecs bigger than my head, big upper arms, veiny forearms, and instead of Brandon's six-pack, he had eight of them; every single muscle on him was big and maximally defined. He doesn't have a single ounce of fat on him.

It feels like an eternity as I stand there staring at the two of them as if they were freshly cut meat ready to be eaten. Even though embarrassment is rising within me, I can't take my eyes off them because their every move looks and feels like they're trying to attract me. Never before have I felt this obvious. Most people to this day have no idea about my preferences. Although they would find out at the latest when I got married, as it is completely normal in our society, somehow I never felt comfortable telling people since I am always surrounded by men. Even most of the servants in our palace are men.

"Is everything okay?" Sky's concerned voice snaps me out of my dirty thoughts. My cheeks are warm, and my stomach feels like a thousand little bugs are trying to break out of it. On an empty stomach, I almost puke right there. I put a hand over my mouth and gag at my behavior, barely able to hold it back. As I just realized, I am actually a pervert, just not in the way people thought.

I try to turn around because both guys are still standing in front of me in their way-too-tight underwear, with Brandon's black briefs going well with his pale complexion, while Sky, with his slightly tanned skin, is wearing pearl white briefs. I'll probably have to burn my mind to forget this image.

Looking the other way, I tragically gaze at Riven, standing by the door, just as stunned as the other two. I can still hear Sky babbling for a bit, but when he suddenly stops, I look over my shoulder worriedly and see Brandon smacking Sky's head with his wild blonde hair flying everywhere. He whispered something in his ear, only for Sky's brown eyes to widen. They flash in my direction, capturing my eyes in a storm of emotions.

"I had no idea!" he suddenly screams as he rushes towards me, pulling me in those big arms that he could literally chok—no, I shouldn't stick my head in that gutter. I don't need a new obsession or love. My heart is still empty from the last one that left me. “I’m so sorry. If only I had known!” he continues to lament.

To calm him down, I gently pat his large back, which has even more of these beautiful, seductively tight muscles. I want to scratch his back with my fingernails while—What's wrong with me? Realizing my predicament, I quickly try to push him away, but he is undoubtedly much stronger than me. He's certainly a great sword wielder for a reason; with that level of strength, he could probably even use a Bulwark Shield.

I keep trying to get away from him, but he just won't let go; it almost sounds like he's crying, but nothing wet ever drops on me. I'm at my wits' end, yet I know I won't get rid of him anytime soon; I'll freak out, and no one wants that.

He pulls me to his chest once more. I look for a way out, and to my surprise, I think I'm literally facing a possibility. Somehow I manage to snake my arms under his arm until my palm rests on his flawless, muscular pecs, perfect for holding on to. No, don't think about pushing him down, and—no, get out of my head. I could only groan in annoyance. Where did these thoughts come from? I remind myself to keep my naughty thoughts under lock and key and use my hand to do the unthinkable.

A sudden yelp alerts the entire room, and Sky even jumps back, almost falling over his feet, but is barely caught in time by Brandon.

"Your nipples are extremely sensitive for a guy your size, but it's good to know how to get you off me," I tell him in a teasing tone that makes poor Sky blush like I've never seen before. Still smiling, I step closer to him. "What did he whisper in your ear that made you jump on me like that?" I nod in Brandon's direction as I ask him.

Sky, on the other hand, seems reluctant, but I only need to show him my fingers and make a twisting motion for the color to drain from his face. "He told me that you must have had bad experiences with men like us, and that's why you reacted like that!" He burst out like a fountain of unnecessary knowledge.

Honestly? It left me speechless. Why would anyone think that? But when I think about it again, I can see it.

My smile softens, and I carefully place my hand on Sky's chest. "Something like this has never happened to me before; you don't have to worry."

"Then why did you look like you had seen a ghost?“

I take a deep breath, unsure if I should tell the truth or continue to lie like I do to the public in my home world. When I look back at Sky, his eyes are already wide open. Confused, I look at Brandon, who seems even more stunned. The only one not stunned is Riven. When I hear him laugh, I quickly turn back to him. He is hunched over, holding his stomach, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever.

Now I am confused too. Each of us is irate in our own way. Not a word is spoken; only the laughter of the maniac at the door keeps us company in our collective confusion.

When I turn back to Brandon and Sky, they both have their arms crossed over their chests, hiding their nakedness as best they can, refusing to look me in the eye, which baffles me even more.

He always looks so stern and angry, but now he seems too happy. And it pisses me off, so much so that I can only roll my eyes while swallowing my need to punch him in the face.

“A way to go, dude!” he shouts, only to burst into bellowing laughter again.

I'm starting to get annoyed and merely stare at him with deep anger. "What's wrong?" I hiss through clenched teeth. My words finally stop him from laughing at me. Instead, he's searching my eyes for something I don't understand.

"Don't you remember?" He asks me, his voice almost as confused as I feel. I shrug my shoulders and don't know what to answer him. So he clears his throat. "You just told us you would jump on one or both of them"—Riven pointed at Brandon and Sky—"If you looked at them for any long."

“I would never!” I scream back and try to free myself from his grip, but his hand on my shoulder holds me tight.

His lips almost touch my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "I don't think you want to know what you said word by word," he begins to whisper, his hot breath scratching the hairs on my neck. I roll my eyes, closing them to hide my shame. "Let's just say it was steamy. And very detailed, making me wonder if you only like boys?"

Finally realizing that I've probably spoken my naughty thoughts about her out loud, I try to hide my face behind my hands. But Riven, being a menace in his very existence, grabs my hands and pulls them away from my face. When I push him, he only giggles as if I were a small, annoying insect that can't hurt him. It turns into a full-blown fight where we shove and hit each other, and I end up throwing us both onto one of the beds.

I press my hand to his face as he taunts me with words I believed I had only thought. Embarrassment and deep aggression take hold of me because of his strange change of behavior. I feel something monstrous whispering in my ears, telling me to draw the dagger Riven apparently has hidden behind his back and plunge it into his rotten heart.

At that exact moment, something clicks in my head. Sitting up on Riven's body, I look around. For some reason, I feel like something important is missing. With both hands on his chest, I feel his heart beating; somehow it's getting faster than before.

I know I've heard that voice before, but where? I've never forgotten a face, but voices? No, I'm not good at remembering those, yet I feel deep in my gut that this one feels important to me. Somewhere in the darkness of my mind, I am sure I could find the face to go with the voice, but how? Have I forgotten more than that?

"Is everything okay?" Sky's deep but gentle voice snaps me out of my worries. I blink a few times, but I can only look at him. Unsure whether to answer him or not, I shake my head from side to side. A moment later, he starts scolding Riven for playing too roughly with me. But I don't stand up from him, holding his pecs, which are much smaller than Sky's. A pain is growing in my head, and the world starts spinning as the pain quickly overwhelms me.

For a few moments, I see people without faces threatening me with weapons. I feel like I'm losing my mind, but I hope I will be okay as long as I can feel Riven's body beneath mine.

Even after all of this, I still feel like my mind is drifting off into nothingness, to the point where I almost believe what I see. I'm sure something similar happened, but why can't they have faces? It's just a feeling, but it's so heavy that I'm almost too sure of it.

"Hey!" I hear someone shout. "Hey! Don't fall asleep!" The voice sounds so muffled I can't even believe they're real. Call one of the teachers!" The voices slowly fade as my thoughts race at a speed I can't comprehend.

"It's not time yet," another voice tells me, echoing in my shattered mind. "Don't stress. You'll remember in due time. Like you always do."

"Please don't go! Don't leave me again." He appeared right before my eyes, as beautiful as ever. He was more of a man than I could ever be—so powerful. We were just children and later teenagers, but he had always been a beast.

When I saw him standing over me, with his sharp features and small nose, breathing down on me, I thought back to the time in the fields when we ran away from my instructors. I fell over my own feet and landed right on top of him, pulling him to the ground with me. I remember his laughter bouncing around until I could feel his low voice deep in my bones. He was dirty from the fall, and when I made fun of him for it, he grinned mischievously at me and then rolled us around until we were both muddy. Our laughter caught the attention of my coaches, but they only scolded us briefly before leaving. We were twelve, but even then I knew I would marry him. He was an ugly duckling then, but when puberty hit, he could hold his own against 'Gardon the handsome,' the most beautiful man our world has ever seen.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other again; just be patient, you idiot. I promised you once that I would be by your side forever and ever, didn't I?"

Even though I know he's dead, I just can't bring myself to not believe his words. "I love you. I always will!"

He smiles at me, closes his eyes, and shakes his head. "And I love you to the depths of despair and to the heights of happiness until both of our souls vanish."

Tears roll down my cheeks, and I can only helplessly watch him leave, his ghost disappearing, until I can no longer see him. Although I tried to reach him, he still disappeared, which obviously left me devastated.

[Masterlist]

[rosslovesspn]

I cannot explain in words how much joy Castiel has given me, just as a character. I relate to him so much. Every single time I see ‘Misha Collins’ at the start of an episode my heart jumps and I start screaming into the void. Scenes featuring him play over and over in my head 24/7. I am struggling so much right now, but I know that Castiel and Supernatural as a whole will always be there for me when I’m upset. He has given me so much happiness in such a difficult time and I will be forever grateful for Misha Collins and all the script writers of spn.

The reason I’m saying all this is because I want to discuss how fucking horrible it is to hate on someone for loving a character. A character that they love possibly more than anything else in this world, a character that could have given them the will to continue on and not commit fucking suicide. So I think it’s incredibly shitty when people say crap like “yeah we get it, shut up”, “no one cares” and “calm down, they’re not that cool.” Like, what the actual fuck.

You’ve essentially just told someone that their comfort character, the thing that could be SAVING THEIR FUCKING LIFE RIGHT NOW, is unimportant and that they’re ridiculous and childish for being excited about them, and by extension that they’re being ridiculous and childish for liking the character/media. I have experience with this, and for fuck’s sake please don’t do or say anything to that effect to ANYONE, no matter how ‘annoying’ they’re being, no matter how tired you are and no matter how bored you are of hearing about your friend’s hyper focus.

Because, yeah, I get it. It can be annoying sometimes, it can be tiring, and it can be fucking boring, but guess what. This character is their everything at the moment, and they want to tell their friends about it because sharing hyper focuses and fixations with someone you love is the best feeling ever. And if you can’t understand that, please get a fucking clue and cure your ignorance, whether your friend is neurodivergent or not.

And if you really, truly cannot deal with them at that moment, just say ‘Hey, I’m really sorry but I’m doing something right now. Can you tell me all about this later?’ Boom. It’s that simple, that’s all you need to do.

So please, please remember this post whenever your friend is ranting to you and you’re feeling frustrated. Please, please take into consideration that they will remember anything negative you say, and they will take all of it to heart. Take it from someone who’s friends and family frequently do the same to him, it fucking sucks, and if I didn’t have four other fucking amazing friends (shout out to Oli @1amore1, Ryu @wasted-potental-ryu, Oisín and Lau @laurie849) who understand what it’s like to love a show/character/book/whatever so much it physically hurts, then my mental state would be twice as bad as it is now, and it’s already pretty fucking bad.

So please, listen to me, and fucking stop.

Reblog to ensure as many people as possible read this.

[tineeericeee]

What Waits Off the Coast of Santa Barbara

Chapter 5: Give and Take, Ask and Answer

Notes: so uhm- eheheh, funny story…

I have added an indeterminable amount of new chapters — chapters I don’t know the amount of because I haven’t even drafted them :’) but if I had to guess, it’d be around upwards of ten extra chapters

*screaming and crying* SOMEBODY FUCKING SEDATE ME-

Sorry for the super late update 

—————

The car ride was silent. A bit awkward, if Shawn was being honest. He fiddled with the uncomfortable seat belt, then his hands, trying to ignore the side-eyes ‘Carlton Lassiter’ was giving him. He wasn’t sure what his deal was with him. Then again, he’d also be suspicious if he was with a weird guy that was previously a weird mermaid. Even so, there was quite a few quick glances.

Shawn hated silence. Even the ocean had the odd whale call every now and then. And besides, sound traveled a lot better through water than it did on land. Without the constant pressure of sea water pushing on his ears, everything felt so much more quiet. All that he could hear right now was the rumble of the car engine and wind whistling outside.

He’d be filling the empty void right now with flirting and witty banter (all of it aimed at the man behind the steering wheel, of course). But he was still working on getting his mouth and tongue to cooperate with him. He’d barely been able to say his name earlier, and the other quips he’d made before that had been just as much a struggle.

He reached out to fiddle with the radio fixed to the dash, the tarp wrapped around him making a swishing sound as he did so. Someone had to substitute the silence for noise, and if Shawn couldn’t fill it with speaking he might as well have something else do it for him.

“-I wanna see you out that door, baby bye bye bye (bye bye!)”

Not even two seconds had passed and it was immediately shut off once more by Carlton. His hand was a blur as it reached towards the dash and pressed the power button. 

Silence reigned once more. 

Shawn hummed a tune under his breath, parts of a whale song he’d heard a few days ago broken with the odd line from the chorus of ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ by Tears for Fears. It mixed horribly, but the only one that was there to judge his humming skills were him and Carlton. 

Fingers drummed against his thighs in tempo, plastic fabric rustling with every tap, head nodding along subconsciously. 

The air was tense, despite Shawn’s best efforts. 

Until Carlton cleared his throat. “So… you uh- you’re…”

“Real?” Shawn finished for him. He mentally patted himself on the back for not fucking up the pronunciation. Even though it was fairly simple. Still, small victories and all that. 

“No- I mean… you’re sitting in my car, I think that’s enough evidence that you’re real.” He took a deep breath. “I was going to say that- that you’re a siren.” 

Hold up, what? This guy thought he was a siren? He had to be joking, pulling his leg. But no, his face, whilst still staring at the road, was dead serious.

Shawn couldn’t help laughing, a sound that was a mix of human laughter along with dolphin chirps and whistles. “Siren? You- thought- those ugly half-vulture ladies? Hell no!” 

Saying it out loud made him laugh harder. At least that was one thing he could still do without struggle. Simply speaking that broken sentence was a battle. But it was one that was slowly getting more and more easy to overcome. 

The car slowed down as they came to a red-light, albeit a bit jerkily. Shawn barely noticed, too busy laughing his ass off, cheeks growing hot. Of all the things he could’ve been called, ‘siren’ wasn’t on the list of things he’d thought of. 

“It’s a valid conclusion, alright?” Carlton’s face went bright red in embarrassment. It was cute, Shawn found, the way his lips pursed as he practically became a tomato. 

He continued, and asked interrogatively, “How else did you make me help you?” 

Shawn’s laughs died down to a couple giggles. “Make you… what?” 

What did that mean? Then Shawn realized that Carlton thought he’d done some kind of voodoo seduction spell and forced him to help get out of the net. 

He let out an involuntary snort, and giggled more. “I can’t do that. That’d be really cool though.” 

But the sight of Carlton’s still serious expression made him come to a full stop. He wasn’t kidding. Oh man, he didn’t really think that, did he? That Shawn could just full-on take over someone and make them do his bidding? That that was why Carlton had helped him in the first place? 

Yeah, getting people to do stuff you wanted them to do could be cool. In theory. But… just the thought of it didn’t really sit right with him. Full control? Probably a little invasive. Definitely a little invasive. 

The light turned green again, and Carlton pressed the gas pedal a little too aggressively. The engine revved as they shot past the traffic light. There wasn’t really anyone around to notice, however. Except for a lone car sitting at the exit of a small parking lot, waiting for the Crown Vic to drive past so it could pull out. 

“Dude, even if I was a siren, I couldn’t make you do anything. They just… sing about what you want most. Draw you towards them, that stuff.” 

Shawn remembered his first — and last — encounter with the nasty creatures. He was grateful he’d paid some attention to the Greek mythology section of eighth grade history. Otherwise he’d have seen that rocky island full of bird women and not thought twice about swimming over and investigating. Of course, he knew what was up the moment he saw the big vultures with human heads surrounded by torn clothing and shredded steel beams. 

Eyes never leaving the road, Carlton drummed his fingers against the wheel. “So, you’re not… in my head? You’re not influencing my judgment?”

“Nope. Not a little bit.” 

He nodded, donning a thoughtful expression. 

And then it was quiet. 

Two minutes passed before Shawn became antsy. 

What to do, what to do, what to do… 

He thought back to when Carlton had opened up his glove compartment earlier to grab the bottle of ibuprofen. Along with the medicine, he’d seen the standard car manual, with a gun sitting comfortably on top. 

Shawn took another quick scan of the car and found a radio in the cup-holder. A closer look at the man behind the wheel told him there was a badge and a pair of handcuffs stuffed in his pockets. 

It was easy enough to piece together that this guy worked with the police. Child’s play, really. He was probably a detective, the setup reminding Shawn of when his own father had made the transition from officer to detective. 

“It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure that even if you’re a detective it’s still illegal to drive when you’re drunk.” 

The last part was also easy to deduce, the faint scent of alcohol permeating Carlton’s breath. Faint, most likely faded enough to leave him sober. But still there. 

A beat passed. 

“What gave it away?” 

“Well, the radio was a big hint.” He gestured to the aforementioned object still sitting in the cupholder. “Handcuffs sticking out of the back pocket were a dead give away. But I almost missed it. That ass is so distracting. And third: your badge? There’s a perfect outline of it in your other pocket.” 

Shawn could see the look of impression that Carlton was trying to tamp down. “How did you figure I’m a detective, not just a cop?” 

“Let’s just say I… knew someone. Yeah.” He wasn’t ready to really open up about his dad. Not yet. Not to a stranger. Maybe Gus, when he saw him. Besides, he’d rather not have someone who most likely knew Henry professionally be privy to the fact that Shawn was his son. “The setup was a lot like yours.”

It was quiet again, save for the humming engine and the small taps Shawn’s fingernails made against the hard plastic door handle. 

Carlton flicked on his turn signal, pulling into the left turn lane. “What’s with the… just a while ago, on the beach, why were you so…”

So big. The unspoken words reverberated through the car. 

Truth be told, Shawn never really wondered why his human form and his mer form had such a large difference in size. Evolution, maybe? The ‘why’ never bothered him, just grateful for the advantage over all other ocean life. Nothing bothered him when he was that size. 

The only thing bigger than Shawn were whales, who simply allowed him to travel alongside as he pleased, not sensing any danger from him. 

“Not sure. But it’s useful. Easy to hunt, get food.” Shawn stated matter-of-factly.  

Again, Carlton nodded in agreement. “I would assume so.”

Buildings flew by as the car trundled on. The sky had significantly lightened up by now, a small sliver of the sun peeking over the horizon. Outside, Shawn could hear seagulls cawing and birds chirping. It had been a while since he’d heard those. 

“How long?” 

This time, it was Shawn’s turn to look confused. He turned away from the window to look at Carlton, who still had not taken his eyes away from the road. “What?” 

“How long were you underwater, away from land?” 

Shawn’s mouth opened and closed, not unlike a fish out of water (which was technically what he was). 

Noticing his silence, he began to elaborate. “The way you talk, like you used to but haven’t in a long time. That’s how I know.” Carlton pulled onto a smaller road, houses lining both sides of the street. “You figured out I’m a detective, I’m a little surprised you thought I was incompetent. There’s a reason I have this job, and it’s not because I sat on my ass and asked for it.” 

Shawn sighed. He was right about that. Still, it was kind of embarrassing to have it pointed out to him. “What year is it?” 

“2006.” 

“About a decade, then. Give or take a few months.” An idea struck Shawn. “Speaking of which, what’d I miss while I was gone? Did they renew the Breakfast Club? Any new movies with Val Kilmer? Any world changing events like that?” 

Shawn hadn’t expected the flurry of emotions coming from Carlton. When he did speak, his voice was just barely raised a pitch. “Uhm, well, there sure were- but that’s a conversation for later.” 

It was perfect timing. Carlton pulled the Crown Vic in the driveway of an immaculate house. The lawn was neatly trimmed, the home a clean shade of green and void of any dirt or grime. If Shawn didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed whoever lived there was someone who was boring and worked a nine to five office job. 

But a quick glance inside told him the opposite, as Shawn exited the car, tarp still swishing around him. Sharper than average eyes let him see that there was some kind of corkboard with mugshots pinned in some kind of order, with what were most likely descriptions of the people printed underneath. 

Lassiter dug through his pockets and fished out a set of keys, unlocking the door. “Go on ahead to the bathroom, it’s down the hall second door on the left. I need to find the first aid kit.” 

Inside, Shawn got a better look at the board he’d seen from outside. Now that he was closer, he could actually read the descriptions. It was a wall full of convicted criminals, each one more rough than the last. Save for the one in the top left corner, who appeared to be a dapper gentleman. 

He walked down the hallway, and noticed a room, door wide open so there was no need to do it himself, right across from where he’d been instructed the bathroom was. A desk sat beside the bed, covered in papers and a singular empty file. 

Shawn knew he didn’t have time to really examine them, so from the door he quickly scanned the closest papers to the best of his ability. 

Something something dead astronomer something planetarium…

“Wow, he really puts the ‘home’ in homework.” Shawn muttered under his breath before retreating into the bathroom where he’d been told to go. 

—————

ao3 link

[chaotic-idiots]

hai

this blog is run by @brodiedoesthings, @be-cat-do-crime, @nothingf-i-s-h-yhere, @elizarivers, @sleepy-boything-shit, and @oceaniddoesstuff if he wants to anything for this lmao

we now also have @mystic-mae on here, so that's fun :3

anyways dni if your homophobic, transphobic, ableist, bigoted, racist, all that kinda stuff

but pretty much just chill and have fun while we fuck around

let's see everyone's introduction below now

chat put your intros here

hola pendejos im fish! aka @nothingf-i-s-h-yhere im a menace who likes men a lot for someone who is technically bi. i got autism and adhd so thats real fun! i like tf2 and gmod and the such. my tag is "#the fish speaks" also im taken! so no. you cant date me!

Opa! Eaê? I'm Emme, A.K.A. @h4rdw4r3-k1d. I'm an enby-demi-femboy from the Pátria Amada, Brazil, I'm AuDHD, and I'm a writer. And though I'm not the greatest technician that's ever lived or anything, I'm into hardware and software, especially Linux, and I'm REALLY into the aesthetic. My tag is "#beep boop" as I am indeed, a compupiter. And that's it for my intro. Te vejo.

g'day mate! im brodie, aka @brodiedoesthings, im a bi femboy, who might be enby, not sure tho. im from queensland, im probably autistic or on the spectrum in some capacity, im trying to figure out how linux works emme please help me. my tag is '#the dog barks' cause im a lil puppy (according to emme atleast) and thats it for my intro, cya later fuckers.

hello hello helloooo!! im sora!! @sleepy-boything-shit , nice to meet ya :3. im transmasc and bi, my pronouns are he/she/they/it. ive got adhd, uhhh theres nothing else about me. whenever i post here, my tags gonna be “#he screams into the void.” peace ✌️

hello children. i’m eliza, @elizarivers. i’m bi, a demigirl (they/them), and taken by the gremlin above. i’m from the US and my tag is “pussy destroyer speaks” (fuck you brodie). uh. i like writing and singing but i never do it so um. yay! bye byeee

uh... fuck. hi. i'm that creature who runs @mystic-mae. im pansexual aromantic, and my gender could give less than two fucks (he/they/void/she). i guess you could say im one of those trans people. i have a shit ton of names, but those can be found on my main. my tag is "#stop screaming in my ear" (im the void, darlings. i hear you, but i cant help you.) also a poet, so you'll find me fucking around.

[lazyrezi]

Muhahhaha love that it just asked hoping that's a normal thing to ask....I also mostly talk based on the media I consume hoping I sound like a normal average person

Murderbot being relatable AGAIN

Ohohoho so petty I mean. Someone is dead but go off I guess

Uugh that's kinda sad but. Also relatable? Like I don't wanna be perceived/identified either and I'm not even a bot construct in a world that's terrified of bot constructs

Lol I mean. That name does kinda paint a picture I think I have just become desensitised to it like I see the name Murderbot and I'm not thinking oh hey murder!!?? I'm also not thinking bot. I'm not actually thinking thoughts just incoherently screaming into the void so

Haha that's just a hilarious picture

Also look at Murderbot trying to pretend it usually doesn't make faces uncontrollably (we all know it does)

Mensah is so cool multitasking like that I wish I was her

Highest form of compliment second to Murderbot calling someone a smart human actually wait no this is even better than that because while I will never be a smart human (too accident prone/has no common sense) I could however be easy to talk to!! I AM easy to talk to! Murderbot would love talking to me I'm sure

Huh dunno why .... does emotional validation work guys? asking for a friend

Lol Ratthi just wants to work with its bestie (I get it) Also love that they hang out all the time!! And it doesn't find Ratthi boring which we already knew but. it's nice to hear it from it

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

A splash of Saz's background and a splash of worldbuilding

Shhh yes I am typing straight into a tumblr post again from my phone at that. Call it dedication. Call it laziness.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums @vacantgodling (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

The bear morpher huffed, taking the drink from Ian's hand. Knowing he was drunk enough to not hit her hand away in time. She took a sip from it and pushed past her nerves to ask the other three morphers nearby a question.

"How long have y'all fought?"

Julie laughed at Ian's quiet grumbling as he stumbled off to get another drink. They'd been camping in at Julie and Ian's quarters for awhile now it seemed. The crickets weren't chirping when they had first entered but were practically screaming now. Saz was sure they'd been drinking for a few hours now. But it was one of the few things they could all do together with little animosity.

The hagfish morpher answered first, "Fighting under the elder morphers? Since I had enough strength to throw a rock and make it hurt."

"I was pressured into it awhile ago." Ian responded with a sigh as he returned.

"I was basically drafted by the elder morphers. I didn't have a choice. So a couple years now I guess." Elliot said, quiet for the moment after losing over who'd control the music.

"I've been a wrestler for awhile. But none of the war tactics stuff under your belts." Saz stated.

Ian shrugged, "Wouldn't call it war tactics just yet. You didn't know about anything building and you lived with the humans."

That ripped a collective sound of aggravation from the hagfish and smaller deer at the thought. All this work and the shit was going unnoticed.

Julie tossed the pocket radio to Elliot, more like at Elliot, so he could change it, "Thought you were a smuggler?"

Saz grinned and nudged Elliot, "Aw so he did talk about me." She scratched at her scruff and scooched a little closer to Julie, "I was both. Smuggling people in and out got me my money."

Elliot chimed in now, "It's how I met her too."

Julie looked up at the bear morpher, "That how you made it into one of those human cities?"

Saz shook her head. Swirling the beverage in her hand before taking a long drink. The bear morpher tilted her head away from Julie, her locs following the motion.

"Adopted by some humans actually."

Ian and Julie's face both twisted. They'd heard horror stories from morphers about it for years. So many bullshit reasons. So much death. The occasional win, just for a kid to be shipped off as a lab rat. Or someone's living trophy. Hell the elder morphers had whispered about it amongst themselves when they thought no one could hear.

Elliot's eyebrows shot up, "You weren't born in a human city?"

Saz chuckled and shook her head, "Born on a morpher base in the outskirts. When there were still multiple I guess. Seems like it's just one or two now."

"And a human felt bad and plucked you from a dying parents arms," Julie stated.

"Or they were looking for children to toss to the labs and you just happened to fit. So they kidnapped you and made bank." Ian stated.

Saz simply shrugged, "Don't know. Just know they took a gamble because I could've shown a very obvious trait in five years." She gestured to the two deer morphers.

Elliot scratched at the antler that remained. Ian flicked his ears and looked away. Julie stretched and rested a hand on the two deer morpher's heads. Shoving Elliot when he chose a station she didn't like.

"Still impressive that you dodged animal control for so long," Julie said, a smile finding its way to her face.

Saz looked down at her nose and then to Julie, "I was just a kid the first time, I busted my face the second time, and got saved by you guys the third. Don't really know if that's a good job."

Julie sucked her teeth, bringing a knee to her chest, "What do you call making it out of a place that hate's monsters alive? Typical day?"

Saz finished off the drink in her hand in silence and rested her elbow on Julie's head. Careful not to rest all of her weight on the hagfish morpher.

"Typical day. Routine. Same thing, yeah." Saz said simply.

She rose to her feet with a groan. She needed a stronger drink.

[anon-wilford]

TRICK OR TREAT !!!!

omg hi thank u! I wasnt sure what to do as am ccurently already working on two art pieces but not smth I can post to tumblr (I think) but I remembered this writers wip! hermitcraft angst incomming, with Evil X. Pain.

Pain is the only comfort Evil X Has. The little healthy tissue still to succumb to the void cold touch, screaming and begging for warmth, sending waves of agony up his arms. It's ironic that it feels like touching hot oil on a pan. His feet's no better either, but they're holding up better. At least that's what he hopes. He hopes that they're not just too far away from his heart for his body to have given up on them. Nausea forces its way to his stomach by the thought of his feet being black, frozen, and cold, to the point they've gone numb. He tells himself that the slight weird tingling sensation pushing its way up his legs means something else. But he doesn't dare look to confirm that. He gave up screaming a long time ago. The angry insults could have simply lasted an hour, or a day. Or several for all he knows. He's unsure if Time is ticking by agonizingly slow, or going by faster due to the lack of general stimuli, other than watch the few particles of the void rush by him, almost as if he was falling.

Falling...or floating for eternity. He's pretty sure he's falling. Just the way his stomach churns at every movement, like going over the peak of a roller coaster, down. Yet nothing around him would confirm that he was. No wind is whipping past him, screaming in his ears. No hair flailing wildly as the effects of Gravity takes its effect. No resistance of his limbs due to the natural force. Maybe he's not, the metal around his wrists and ankles to keep him from entering servers, worlds or the central hub in general, suggests he's chanied up, but there's not much here to chain him to, he supposes. He cant assume the magic ingrained in the metal would do much if he was falling. But

The feeling of slowly slipping further, and further. Deeper. Just his guts tensing and with a sharp cold energetic pain at every flinch, suggests his assumptions are correct.

His throat feels sore. Every swallow, cough or even breath feels like swallowing shards of glass. His thrasing and screaming had taken it's toll, ripping the inside of his throat open, littered with sores. Every heave his lungs crave, that his throat is forced through, screaming at him to let it rest, the infalmed irritated tissue fighting his very want to stay alive, sending waves of tears prickling and itching to fall. If he had any left to shed, that is. He guesses that he's too dehydrated to cry. Being in the void might pause several of his bodily functions, but it's mercy only extents so far. The tears he shed wont come back. His stomach's still empty. He's still running on fumes. And you can still wither away and die. It's not a time bubble. He's not sure if that's a curse or a blessing. Probably a blessing. It would be agony to be consicous till the end of time. Though still far from generous. Never forgiving the poor souls that's send into it's embrace. Most take forgranted how quick the death would be, in some- if not most- circumstances. Falling off an end island, falling through a glitched hole in the world. The gravity letting you slip, like breaking through water's surface tension, but scaled a hundred-fold, is what harms. The pop of of the void tearing you from the egde of your world, tearing you out from it's force's reach, like two siblings fighting over a toy. Killing you. Tearing you apart and in the end, nobody wins. Both crying over the loss of their precious toy. Though if given to the void. If you're send there intentionally. If someone negotiates with the worlds code, like writing a command, lessening the whiplash... you die from your body not being made to live there.

All he hears is the internal turmoil and the void's singing. The ringing in his ears almost resembling a tune if you listen for long enough. Attempting to soothe you, before the high-pitched ringing stabs your ear's inner organs like a million tiny needles, slowly yet surely digging everything out.

It feels like years have passed since he last saw his brother. Well, clone? Well, he himself is the clone. Xisuma is most likely the original. No matter how simillar he looked, he always stood out. He doesn't mind that, of course. That's what he tells himself at least. It's good to stand out, be different, not blend in with all the normies living their plain boring life, talking about their unitneresting lives. Their words tasts like boring plain bread left out on the counter for too long.

...and look what that got him...

A one way ticket to the void.

Handed to him on a silver platter by someone he once called his brother. Whom he had shared most of his life with, walking along side eachother. He never thought their roads parting ways would have lead him here.

The forgiveness he had once teased his brother for being too generous for giving so easily, is what he has been begging to receive for the past... Few years, most likely. Yet he remembers that spiteful, hurtful, look his brother had given him before the darkness of the void had embraced him.

At first he despised his brother for sending him here. Screaming about how Xisuma himself had talked and thought how unforgiving the void is. How no human being deserve such a slow and torturous death.

But Evil X is just a clone after all. Just another number. A duplicate, a fake. And the worst part is, that he's a terrible duplicate at that. Meant to be so much greater than whatever he had become. Or at least, that's what he felt was assumed of the situation. He rose so high, ignoring the promise of the inevitable fall being even harder than his success, plummeting and dragging it down with him. And oh, how ugly his fall was. Slow and agonizing.

It's ironic, isn't it? That this is how he dies. Falling slowly in the void.

At least he'll die the way he lived, if that means anything. Probably doesn't. He hope they didn't forget him. He hopes that the time that has passed, is time spent warming Xisumas cold shoulder. Yet he's sure they both know deep down that this is what he deserves. He deserves to slowly lose his senses. Slowly have his person, his soul, his very core wither away. He deserves the cold biting away at his body, circling his heart still pumping out the warm blood, like a predator seeking the warm flesh of it's prey. Seeking to suffocate any sign of warmth in its territory. He can feel the last bit of life draining from him, but he's too cold, too tired to fight it. And he knows it's utterly useless. The exhaustion is overwhelming. His eye's are heavy. He can feel his eyelids slip. His muscles loosing the energy to keep themselves together. He can feel the exposed skin on his face crack from the dry cold, blood seeping from his face. He really should have kept his helmet on and not chugged it as hard as he could, never to be seen again. Maybe it would have kept him alive long enough for his pleas of forgiveness to reach Xisuma's heart. The only warmth left in him is the blood seeping through his cracking skin across his corehead, lips and cheeks. He hoped that at the very least he would die in battle, with fellow warriors by his side to comfort him with the promise of vengance and victory; or someplace where he gets to say goodbye to mothernature. Hoping to die blissfully lulled to sleep in her lovingly warm embrace, with the beauty of the flowers, trees and animals she created and allows to live and die in her embrace with a promise of peace.

As his eyes close, he can feel a surge rush through his body.

And everything goes black. Everything disappears. He no longer feels the weight of his armor, the weight of breathing.

[zee-the-zebra]

Black Out

A/N: Hi, so have approximately 500 words mild Chaeya angst based on my completely wrong guess of Childe's fate in 4.2 when all we had was leaks.

Basically I thought that humanoid looking boss was Childe fully taken over and corrupted by the Foul Legacy. And I ran with it. Have fun.

Childe had heard of what the Traveler can do. But even her purifying magic probably couldn’t reach him. If nothing else, if there was no coming from back this, at least she could help him go out with a bang.

He felt the beast’s anger. Clearly the traveler had hurt it enough that it decided it would do away with her. The whale opened its mouth and inhaled.

But she wasn’t the only one there.

The Legacy gave him one thing. It allowed him to see the world outside while still being trapped. Ajax felt his heart stop when he saw Kaeya standing next to the traveler.

He tried to scream for Kaeya to run away, to get as far from it, from him as possible. He didn’t want to even entertain the idea of this thing hurting him, let alone hurting Kaeya himself.

But there was nothing he could do as both Kaeya and Traveler were pulled into the void. And soon enough both of them were standing before him. Staring at him with seemingly no recognition. At least at first. Kaeya’s head tilted to the side, before his uncovered eye widened in horror. His sword nearly fell from his grip.

“…Ajax…?”

He cautiously took a step closer, raising his hand to caress Ajax’s face. Ajax begged, pleaded, for the Legacy not to attack him. And for one reason or another, it didn’t move. Kaeya’s hand made contact with the armor, Omni magic subtly flowing through his touch, in an effort to bring Ajax back.

“Is this…what’s supposed to be the fate of anyone who wields the Legacy…?”

Kaeya’s question was not a genuine one, Ajax knew that. It was a slowly mounting, horrible realization. He knew that this was supposed to be Ajax’s ending. And Ajax could tell, Kaeya wanted to reject it with every fiber of his vein.

Yet for as much as he wanted Kaeya to just leave him to waste away, somewhere deep inside himself, he wanted to call out for help. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the Legacy eating away at him. Already he thought it would be better to let the Traveler just kill him. But more than that, he wanted to see Kaeya with his own eyes again. He wanted to be with his family again. In a sense, he wanted Kaeya to be the knight to save him from himself.

How pathetic.

But in the end he chose to be childish. He chose to be selfish. Gathering whatever strength he had left, Ajax reached out.

On the outside, the abyssal warrior that stood before Kaeya and Lumine shivered. It raised an arm towards Kaeya, shaking. A voice spoke, yet not the one of the Abyss. One of someone he knew, someone he loved, in a similar sort of pain he only heard from him once before, and had never hoped to hear again.

“Kae…ya…"

"Help…me…”