#I may be screaming to the void please reply

[msshadowqueen]

So I'm kind of obsessed with evil Tam Tam now so I rewrote the Rhysand death scene in ACOWAR. Enjoy!

Stay with the High Lord. The Suriel’s last warning. Stay … and live to see everything righted. A lie. A lie, as Rhys had lied to me. Stay with the High Lord. Stay. For there … the torn scraps of the mating bond. Floating on a phantom wind inside me. I grasped at them—tugged at them, as if he’d answer. Stay. Stay, stay, stay. I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the void that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beron and Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarled, “Bring him back.” Blank faces. I screamed at them, “BRING HIM BACK.” Nothing. “You did it for me,” I said, breathing hard. “Now do it for him.” “You were a human,” Helion said carefully. “It is not the same—” “I don’t care. Do it.” When they didn’t move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn’t care, only if— Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. “For what he gave,” Tarquin said quietly. “Today and for many years before.” And as that seed of light appeared in his palm … I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys’s bare throat and vanish into the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys’s skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not even seen her move. “I do not mind making one more kill today,” she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically chucked that fleck of light onto Rhys. I didn’t care about that, either. I didn’t know the spell, the power it came from. But I was High Lady. I held out my palm. Willing that spark of life to appear. Nothing happened. I took a steadying breath, remembering how it had looked. “Tell me how,” I growled to no one. Thesan coughed and stepped forward. Explaining the core of power and on and on and I didn’t care, but I listened, until— There. Small as a sunflower seed, it appeared in my palm. A bit of me—my life. I laid it gently on Rhys’s blood-crusted throat. And I realized, just as he appeared, what was missing. Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty. He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us—the palms still out. There was no kindness on his face. No mercy. “Please,” was all I said to him. Then Tamlin glanced between us—me and my mate. His face did not change. “Please,” I wept. “I will—I will give you anything—” Something shifted in his eyes at that. But not kindness. No emotion at all. I laid my head on Rhysand’s chest, listening for any kind of heartbeat through that armor. “Anything,” I breathed to no one in particular. “Anything.” Steps scuffed on the rocky ground. I braced myself for another set of hands trying to pull me away, and dug my fingers in harder. The steps remained behind me for long enough that I looked. Tamlin stood there. Staring down at me. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn’t place.

"No."

I sobbed. "Please, Tamlin. Please. I will do anything." Tamlin smiled, and it was purely animal, nothing but vicious triumph in his stare. "I already have everything I want." I stilled as I recalled the words from all those months ago. When Tamlin had begged Rhysand to end the bargain, that he'd give him anything he wanted. And Rhysand had replied with those words. The words Tamlin now flung back at me.

I snarled. "You bastard-" Beron's wicked smile threatened to undo me. I lost it, jumping at Tamlin. A hard shield had me bouncing on my ass to the unforgiving grass. "You may possess a small kernel of each of our powers," Tamlin said quietly, with nothing but venom in his voice, "but I am a High Lord. And you will do well to remember that."

I stared at the bastard I once loved who had somehow become everything I came to hate. "How can you claim to love me if you won't do this for me?"

Tamlin continued to smile that vicious, vicious smile. "You don't get to rewrite the narrative. You don't get to spin this to your advantage." Throwing back my words from the High Lord meeting back to me. He had remembered, it seemed. Every damned, cursed word. "I saved your life back at the Hybern's camp," he continued in that quiet voice. "After everything you did. I owe you nothing. The man who loved you died the moment you decided your petty grudge against me was reason enough to reduce my innocent people to cinders."

Tears flowed freely from my face now. My stupid revenge plan had ruined everything. Lucien had been right. I should've listened. But it was too late. I could only watch in horror as Rhysand's body was reduced to nothing but dark mist, as the kernels from each of the High Lords flowed directly into the chest of Tamlin.

A heartbeat later, small balls of fire danced around his fingertips. Then dark mist. Then water. Tamlin stared at his fingers, entranced. "Thank you, Feyre, for this wonderful gift." Then he winnowed away, leaving my broken heart waiting on the other side. Even as some numb part of me registered the fact that the Night Court's land had chosen me as its next leader.

[feelthepainandrot]

I hate being told that I'm beautiful.

I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I know people are trying to compliment me and people are trying to be nice to me, I know. I understand that.

But it doesn't mean anything.

People always go on and on about affirmations. About telling yourself something you don't believe. That if you do that enough it becomes true. If that works for others, fantastic. More power to you. It has never worked for me.

Every time I say this, however, it's always 'oh well you have to keep trying, oh you just haven't been doing it long enough.' I've heard it all before. People always tell me the same thing. Over and over and over and over again. Enough. Please.

People always assume that people told me this. That someone instilled the idea in me that I was ugly. Unattractive. While, sure, I've had some experiences that have supported that idea, it's an idea I've always had. Forever. Since I remember gaining consciousness at age four. No matter how many friends or family tried to convince me otherwise.

I need to talk about my feelings out loud. I always have and I always will. Screaming into the void like this is rare for me. But it's getting to a point where talking out my feelings, about this specifically, always turns out the same. Always the same replies. Always the same sentiments. The same apologies. The same frustration. Every time.

I don't want to upset others. I don't want to hurt them or frustrate them or seem like I'm arguing. I'm just... uncomfortable. Violently so. That's not something I can sit in and stew in silently. I wish it was. My discomfort is loud and possibly annoying and anger inducing. I wish it wasn't. I'm sorry.

I don't mean to imply that you're not being honest with me when you compliment me. Tell me nice things. That's not my intention, even if it may feel that way to me. You may honestly believe me to be beautiful. That's lovely. Wonderful even.

It just... doesn't mean anything to me.

I wish it did, but it doesn't. I don't understand why or how to fix it. I want to. I do. At least, I think so?

I really don't know anymore. I wish I did.

You telling me that I'm beautiful if I don't believe that I am doesn't magically change anything. It doesn't automatically make me feel beautiful, nor does it change the subjective truth that I may or may not be so. It doesn't magically change anything.

I'd like to believe that I'm beautiful.

At least, that's what people want me to say.

In reality, I don't really think I do.

It's...unknown. Uncomfortable. The very idea makes me want to crawl out of my skin, scratch and claw at it until I'm bleeding. The ichor in my veins and the velvet of my flesh stuck underneath my nails. I want to scream until my voice is hoarse, until I choke on the suffocating weight of honey coated praise.

Don't you see? I love you. I do. More than words can express. I give you the songs, the playlists, the compliments, the comfort, the affection, the attention... because if I gave it to myself I'd be in agony.

So no. I do not think I'm beautiful.

And I do not know if I wish to be.

I wish I did.

For a fly does not know the difference between the sweet molasses of self hatred and the decadent honey of arrogance.

[basic-x-witch]

The Twin's Gambit

Chapter Nine: The Truth Comes Out

Warning: this chapter features heavy subjects, such as death and child harm

Rook woke up the next morning to an empty bed; Emmrich was nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, she reassured herself that he had always been an early riser and was probably waiting for her downstairs. She got out of bed lazily and threw on a pair of casual Nevarran slacks and a low-cut tunic. As she leaves their bedroom, she is met with the scent of fresh coffee. She descended the stairs to see Emmrich and Lucanis already sitting at the table, enjoying a small spread of fresh fruit and what looked like a freshly baked loaf of banana bread.

“Ah, good morning, dearest,” Emmrich says, his voice surprisingly chipper, considering what had transpired the day before.

“What's got you in such a good mood?” Nym jests with just a hint of her usual sass. 

“Well, I’d be delighted to explain once Nyxahlia joins us, dear.” He smiles and pats the empty spot next to him on the sofa.

“Speak, and I will be summoned,” Nyx joked as she walked in the room, hair in disarray and dressed haphazardly. “I’m about to curl to up on Lucanis like a cat, and if any of you make fun of me, I will scream.”

Emmrich and Rook smile at her as they sit together on the velvet green sofa. One hand is on his staff, and the other wraps around Rook’s waist. Emmrich clears his throat before he begins talking.”So, as I had mentioned yesterday, I believe I have discovered a way we can help Nymphadora with her current issue. She was able to discuss what she believes is happening to her in relative depth last night.” 

“That's not the only thing that was in relative depth last night,” Nyx deadpanned, as she took Lucanis’ cup and took a sip. “Oh, that’s foul, actually. You can have that back.” She handed the cup back to him, and he had to fumble to hold it out of the way as Bishop plopped herself in his seat.

Emmrich flashes an unamused look at Bishop, as Rook couldn’t help but laugh at her sister's quip.

“Very humorous Nyxahlia… may I continue, please?” The older man deadpans back.

“Of course, esteemed professor, please carry on. That was funny, right Lucanis?”

“Sure, love,” he replied agreeably. “Go on, Emmrich.”

“Thank you, Lucanis. As I was saying, from what I understand, Nym’s subconscious has been greatly wounded by her time trapped in the Fade prison. In all honesty, it should have completely destroyed her psyche. Due to it having been created to hold the gods and not a typical mortal being. But as we are all aware, our dear Nympadora is an incredibly stubborn woman. It would seem that by sheer power of will, she managed to keep the damage to a minimum.” Emmrich recounted his findings as he rapped his fingertips against the neck of his staff.

“Congrats on continuing to have an indomitable spirit, Rook,” Nyx joked, turning in her seat to toss her legs over Lucanis and prop herself up on the arm of the chair.

Rook smiled and gave a faux bow towards her sister. “Why thank you, Bishop,” she teased.

“If my hypothesis is correct, based on what we know thus far is that when Nym blacks out, her subconscious is essentially trapping her in the memory of her time trapped in the fade. Giving way for negatively charged spirits to take advantage of the fact that she is capable of conducting herself into a conduit for spirits. In the case of what occurred yesterday, I believe her mind was overtaken by the raw essence of a spirit or perhaps a demon of rage, spurred and drawn to her by the emotions the memory of the void evoked.”  

Nyx’s face dropped. “Sounds sort of like Lucanis’s mental ossuary, but with a bigger physical manifestation factor.”

Lucanis had gone pale. “That was…not great.”

“My memory of the blackouts, if that's what we are going to call them, is rather fuzzy now. But what I do know is that though I am still able to perceive what is happening, my vision is still able to be distorted to a certain degree. For example, Nyx, when I attacked you, my mind was being tricked to believe that you were Solas…” Rook said, looking at her sister before shifting her gaze to Emmrich. “Or in the dining hall, I was fully convinced that I had been blighted…and that if you had touched me Vhenan….” her voice becomes small as she trails off.

“That aligns with my experience, too. Spite thought he was still in the ossuary for weeks, even though he was aware of all of you as well. And sometimes he would think that Bishop was Compassion for days at a time,” Lucanis chimed, his hand holding a vise grip on Nyx’s leg. 

“So, what do we do?” Nyx asked.

“Emmrich and I were brainstorming on possible avenues we could take, and he suggested that we attempt to do what you did with Lucanis,” Rook says. 

“We could try. I would assume a twin bond would be comparable to…you know…this,” Nyx gestured vaguely in the air between her and Lucanis. “I just don’t understand how you guys intend to get us from point A to point B. Rook, you’re not an abomination like me and Lucanis.”

“Well, we were thinking that perhaps if we induced a blackout, you could possably ‘possess’ me with your connection to Despair before another spirit gets the chance,” Rook says matter-of-factly. 

“No. I won’t.” Nyx refused to look at any of them. “You’ll have to think of something else. It won’t work.”

“Nyx, you can’t possibly know that for sure…” Rook looks at her sister dejectedly. 

“I said no. You don’t get it. I don’t have a connection with a despair demon. I am a despair demon. There’s..nothing but despair in me. If I ‘possessed’ you, Rook, anything that wanted could come along and take my body, and I’d be stuck. I won’t do it.”

Rook looked down at the floor, She felt her heart sink slightly; she felt selfish for even suggesting such a thing now that it was out in the open. “Nyx im sorry…we didn’t know…”

“If I was normal…if I was like Spite and Lucanis, I would try it. But…Spite and Lucanis are still themselves. There’s a demon and a human. But I’m just one. I’m basically no different than Manfred. You couldn’t have known. It’s a secret. Only two other beings in the entire world know, outside of this room.”

“Vorgoth and Myrna….” Rook says quietly. Of course, their ‘parents’ knew, and of course, she had been left out of the loop... again. 

“Don’t let your mind go there, Rook. It’s a story that no one would want to grow up with the burden of knowing,” Lucanis told her, sounding even more morose than his usual tone. 

“Nyx..please just be honest with me…what else did they keep from me…” Rook asks, an audible shake to her voice.

“It’s not… I don’t want you to know. You don’t want to know. You’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you didn’t.”

“Nyx thats bullshit and you know it….I have a right to know. Contrary to what our Aunt might think, I was just as much their child as you were…”

“Then find someone else to tell you. I’ll never tell that story again.”

“Nyx…who the fuck is going to tell me the truth if you don’t!? Our dear ‘mother’ and ‘father’ don’t even acknowledge my fucking exsistance! If I had stayed trapped in the void they wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone, not sparing me a single thought, other than perhaps a fleeting moment of gratitude that I died to insure your safety!” Rook raised her voice, her eyes flickering the familiar lyrium blue color, but it seemed oddly under contol. 

“Bishop, she should know. It will be okay.” Spite spoke so softly it was almost indistinguishable from Lucanis’ own voice. Nyx deflated. 

“Fine, but you have to make a blood oath that you’ll never tell anyone else, living, dead, or otherwise, as long as Myrna or I live.”

Both Emmrich and Rook look at each other for a moment before nodding.

“Of course, my dear, it won’t leave this room,” Emmrich vows, with his hand over his heart.

“I’m not being hyperbolic. We need a knife,” Nyx told them, not moving.

Rook looks over at Lucanis, almost expectantly. 

“Rook, where would I keep a knife dressed like this?” he deadpanned. “No, I’m messing with you, here. I already know, so I’m already blood oathed.” he produced a small penblade, seeming from nowhere, and passed it to Nyx, who walked over and handed it to Rook. 

“Do you know what to do? I think this is technically illegal.”

“I assume cut along the palm?” she says nonchalantly, glancing up at Emmrich for a moment. 

“Hurts less if you do it on your forearm; we just have to have enough to mix, pretty much,” Nyx replied.

Rook held the small blade and pressed it against the flesh of her palm, wincing slightly as she quickly made the incision. Blood begins to pool into the palm of her hand. Emmrich takes the penblade from Rook and repeats her action, only choosing to run the blade across his forearm instead. 

“Dramatic, Rook.” Nyx took the blade and pricked her own finger, then dipped into the pool in Rook’s hand and drew a symbol on her wrist, repeating the action on Emmrich. 

“Nymphadora Ingellvar, Emmrich Volkarin, do you agree to abide by the terms of the blood oath, as formed between the Lady Myrna Ingellvar of the Mourn Watch and Nyxahlia Ingellvar 15 years ago?” 

“I’d like to just make note that you opted to tell a supposed blood oath-worthy secret to your boyfriend before your sister….” Rook said with a hint of sass.

“Nymphadora…please, now is not the time….” Emmrich scolds.

“Yeah, Yeah…Yes, I, Nymphadora Ingellvar, swear on my oath as a watcher to uphold the terms.”

“I, Emmrich Volkarin, swear on my oath as a wathcher to uphold the terms,” he says with a curt nod.

“Okay, firstly, he’s not my boyfriend. Secondly, I only meant to include Spite, but they have the same blood.”

“Nyx, that is very much not the point right now,” Lucanis protested as he took the knife back from her. 

“So basically, we were both supposed to die shortly after birth, okay? Our biological mother, Minerva Ingellvar, was a protégé in the necomantic arts, and when she discovered that there was a heavy chance she was going to miscarry, she opted to siphon one daughter's life force into the other to ensure at least one of us survived. So, when we were born, you were healthy, and I was dying because I basically didn’t have a soul. But in doing so, she doomed herself to not survive our birth. Following?”

Rook is deathly quiet but nods, her hand reaching over to grab ahold of Emmrich’s. A small attempt to ground herself, nervous of her emotions causing another black out.

“Scoot, Lucanis.” Nyx sat back beside him. “From the bit she was willing to discuss with me, Myrna was notified by a group of wisps that our mother had passed away in the gradens after giving birth to us. She was rightfully distraught to find us in the state we were in, and since she was our next of kin, being our Aunt, she took us in. There are a lot of details here that aren’t mine to share, but Myrna happened to know of a Spirit of Compassion that was undergoing the change to a demon of despair. Myrna was close to the spirit and didn’t want it to hurt anyone or get hurt, so she used me as a host for Despair and did a particle possession ritual. I didn’t have a soul of my own, and Despair was in a transitional state already, so we kind of…merged. I can remember a whole lifetime I never lived, but spirits experience things differently, so only some of it makes sense. Sometimes, I do things or feel things like a Despair Demon would. Everything is…sadder. That’s why I was so sick when I was young. My Spirit was Despair, but my mind didn’t know despair, so they were at odds. The more despair I felt and experienced, the healthier I could be physically because I was learning to know myself, according to Dad…Vorgoth. So, I don’t even know if I’m a person or a demon because, is Manfred a wisp or a corpse. He’s both, but neither, and so am I. And we didn’t tell you because my existence is extremely illegal, and Vorgoth didn’t think it would affect you much. Also, Spite and Compassion used to love each other, and then they hated each other because she’s the reason that Spite got popped into Lucanis, but now they’re fine with each other again, 'cause I’m kind of Despair and kind of not, and Spite likes me. I think that’s everything.” 

“That is absolutely fascinating. Obviously, the act of a wisp occupying a host body is an extremely common occurrence in the Grand Necropolis, but to have a spirit on the edge of transitioning into a demon host an infant's body….” Emmrich trails off, becoming lost in thought.

“Well, most babies have souls, Emmrich. You’d just end up with really tiny abominations, most of the time,” Nyx added. Her knuckles where white, where she held Lucanis’ hand while she spoke, and she slowly lessened her grip to let blood flow back to his fingers. 

Rook stayed silent, her mind felt like it was racing a hundred miles an hour, she was connecting a lot of dots, that in hindsight should have been obvious growning up….they had lied to her, her whole life…no, could it really be considered lying if they just refused to ever talk about it, period?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how it would change anything for you. You already knew I was a sick kid, and you weren’t. And you knew I was an abomination. Just not the why or how because Myrna made me swear a blood oath the second she told me. I wasn’t allowed to add others in until she had to let me add Spite. You know, so my blood wouldn’t boil when he started figuring things out. Oh, if you tell anyone or act in a way that causes someone to learn the truth, your blood with boil, by the way.”

“Excuse me please..…” Rook stands up, letting go of Emmrich’s hand. She then walks towards the front doors and runs out of the room. Rook runs out into the courtyard of the lighthouse. Making a break for Harding’s greenhouse, she needed to be alone for a bit. 

“Did you want to go after her?” Lucanis asked Bishop, back inside. 

“No. We told her she didn’t want to know.”

Emmrich opens his mouth like he wanted to say something but decides against it. 

Nyx sighed and stood up, pulling Lucanis up behind her. “I’m going to go handle my emotions inappropriately with Lucanis now. Sorry your thing didn’t work, Emmrich. See you later.”

Emmrich watches them leave the room. He rubs his temples with his hands, trying to defuse the tension headache starting. He knew that Rook needed time alone, but with the instability of her emotions right now, he was worried about her safety. He goes outside to find her.

[bubblef1zz]

🔥🧊 : vulcan . Venting on main. I'm having a bit of a moment.

Just having my casual avoiding of people because I know that they fucking hate me! (They probably don't, I'm mostly aware, but it feels that way).

There is still someone I haven't responded to in 4-5 months because every time I try, I get the urge to scream into a void about how they MUST hate me. They MUST see me as a lesser human being unworthy of their attention and love. Just fucking hate me, please?? Actually, no, I want your love so give it all to me, please. My brain can't decide whether they fucking hate me and if I hate them back or if I want their love but oh, look! They must hate me. Nonetheless, I'll likely be trapped in this loop. I may just block them, but then they'll notice and if they don't already hate me, they'll hate me especially more now. Why must I be stuck in this loop? If they hate me they should fucking say so. “I hate you”. Good. Hate me. Please.

As you can see, I'm very ‘indecisive’. My brain just can't decide if I love or hate them!! Oh, but also they must hate me! “It's been a few hours and they haven't replied.” “I can't reply because they hate me”. “I don't want to meet up with them because I know they'll hate me if they don't already.”

God. It's exhausting.

Sorry for the vent, I just need to let loose again.

Ps. If you read this and have any advice for coping, do share that with me. Thank you.

[astralix]

Act 003 Self-Destruction

Pretty Guardian ✶ Sailor Moon

Characters: Original Characters, Canon Characters-mentioned Rating: Teen, Older Teen Genre: Angst, Action, Fantasy, Magical Girl Song: “Die for You” Starset Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon.  That is Naoko Takeuchi’s property.  Please do not sue me.

✦✶✦

Even if the sky does fall Even if they take it all There’s no pain that I won’t go through Even if I have to die for you And when all the fires burn When everything is overturning There’s no thing that I won’t go through Even if I have to die for you

✦✶✦

She was probably going to her death, but she did not care.  She was probably standing on the wrong side of battle, but she did not care.  There were people here who she cared about most.  Probably more than the world itself.  Still, she promised to stay by their side.  It was self-destruction at best.  However, she made a promise and she was going to stick to it.

She had dreams of being like them.  The ones that she was fighting against.  She could see herself in a Sailor suit of teal and indigo.  She was probably happier on that side than where she was now.  However, she made a promise and she would never go back on that promise.  She had to stick it through, even if it made the Sailor Senshi sad that they had to kill one of their very own terrestrials.

In those dreams, she was a proud Sailor Senshi, Sailor Aquarius.

In reality, she was the Conquest, one of the Four Horsemen.  Standing beside her was Death, War and Famine.  She was technically their leader, but she knew everyone was competing to be the very one that brings the heart of the Sun Empress to their nefarious boss’ hands.  It saddened her.  However, that was the life she took up, and it was in protection of the others.

She would face the Astrals.

She would face anything in her path.

She would die trying.

If it helped her friends.

She stood idly, with a teacup in hand and a floating teapot at the ready.  She waited in silence until one of the Sailor Senshi came to her for a fight.  She brushed a rogue lock of teal hair away from her face, as she gazed passively into the abyss below.

This was all self-destruction.

Time went by and a few cups of tea drunk, she could hear the quick thudding of steps.  The double doors burst open as two Senshi stood there panted.  The teal haired girl merely drank her last cup of tea before, before she dropped the teacup into the abyss.

“VICTORIA!” shouted one of them.  She had deep red hair and gray eyes.  She must be Sailor Scorpio.

“Yes?” Victoria, the teal-haired girl replied.  She simply watched the tea cup until she could not see it anymore.  She turned her gaze to the two Senshi.  “What happened to all the others?”

“They’re fighting,” said the other Sailor Senshi.  Her orange-to-red hair clashed with the red-violet sash and skirt of her Sailor suit.

Victoria smiled.  “Good, and you are?”

“Sailor Ophiuchus!” the second Senshi called.

“Is that so?” Victoria asked.  She closed her eyes, hair waved from the void below.  She outstretched her arms, leaned back and fell into the void.  Both girls screamed in horror as they rushed to the edge.

Sailor Ophiuchus clasped a hand over her horrified gasp.  Sailor Scorpio stared in horror.

Victoria merely smiled, as she fell.  She whispered words before she stopped falling.  The brooch on her armor clad body glowed.  “And answer my summons!  I, Victoria, swear to thee!”

She would be betting her life now.  She would be pushing every chip on her end of the table forward.  Her friends were risking it all to fulfill their dreams.  Her dream is merely to support her friends.  If they wanted to get back at the world, to destroy it, then so be it.  She would help them even if it meant her own destruction.  She loved her friends dearly.

If you really loved them, you would stop this now!  She could hear the small voice in the back of her mind.  It was that one voice that denied her dream to follow Mai, Miko and Kyoumi into the depths of Hell.  It was the one voice that wanted to call to them to bring them back from damnation.  It was an annoying voice that has been fighting for her to quit her current position.

“I made my promise and I will uphold it.  Till my last breath,” she said, instead.

You could stop everything if you just listen to me!  Listen, you could achieve great things!  For the Ambassador of Good!  Instead, you’re just destroying yourself!

“What are you?  And how did you get in my mind?” Victoria stated, softly as she flew up the way she fell.

Sailor Aquarius.  I am the one that has chosen good, and you can still choose it!

“I made my choice.  You will shut up,” Victoria replied.  She already made her choice.  There is no salvation for her.  No way of redemption.  Nor for her friends.  Her boots felt nothing but air beneath them but she was floating just above Sailors Ophiuchus and Scorpio.  She was glowing a deep and muted teal.  She could feel her forehead burning.

Then, you must pay the price for your foolishness.

Both Senshi looked in horror as glyph glowed on her forehead.  It was–

“Aquarius!” Ophiuchus gasped.

“I figured as much,” Scorpio said.

A brow raised, Victoria lifted an arm up as spectral swords appeared and pointed towards the Senshi.  The swords rained upon them, and she could hear both their screams as they were nicked and cut.  Ophiuchus struggled but she made a shield around both Scorpio and herself.

Victoria had made her choice.  She would go down with the other three.  She knew their boss would not intervene to help them.  She would complete her path of self-destruction.  However, beside her, was her ghostly doppelganger in the teal and indigo Sailor suit.  The apparition smiled, smugly, as Victoria missed both targets.

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love.

Chapter 2: Radioactive.

Myrtle got on her ranger gear, say for gear helmet and went down stairs. In the spare room handcuffed to the radiator was the crazy little red head dude, just…giggling to himself… 

“Any idea if the psycho is still in his system?” Gannon turned to Joshua, “no idea, psycho isn’t supposed to last that long…then again he might just be insane like Raul said” Joshua replied.

Myrtle approached the man and knelt down so she was eye-level with him, the man’s crazed grin fell from his face as soon as he saw her’s. It was no doubt due to the horrific scar across her left eye which was now completely cybernetic, that would scare the willies out of anybody.

…but…then he smiled again…

“You are something Cicero has never hallucinated before…a half-metal woman!” he gleefully giggled, “hmm, dilated pupils, erratic speech patterns, hallucinations…he may have severe mental trauma” she turned to the others “I think taking him to doc Usanagi for therapy might do him some good”.

“Where is Cicero? Why is he chained?...WHERE IS HIS JESTER’S CLOTHES!?” he squeaked and began to panic “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO POOR CICERO!?”, “ehey, ehey shhh, it’s ok buddy we didn’t do anything to you, we want to help you ok?” Myrtle hushed him “can you tell me what happened? Do you remember how you ended up naked and falling out of the sky?”

The red head…this Cicero guy…just looked at her weirdly and screamed “WHAT!?”, a water bottle was then flung at them “CAN HE STOP FUCKING SCREECHING!? I’am hungover and I’d like some peace and quiet!” Cass bellowed.

Myrtle turned to Ulysses “can you bring me some food and a bottle of water?”, “what for?”, “our friend here is so skinny he looks like he hasn't eaten a proper meal in weeks and I think the best way to get through to him is with kindness, not an interrogation” Myrtle replied.

Ulysses nodded and went into the kitchen to grab a plate of whatever Lily was making, “guys can I be alone with him?” Myrtle turned to Gannon and Graham, they nodded and left to go eat.

“so…Cicero, where are you from?”, the man hesitated “Cicero was from the Empire but he moved to Skyrim to be closer to his family”, “Empire? Sky-rim?” Myrtle pondered “I don’t know these places…they certainly ain't close to the Mojave or California” she mumbled. “Mo-ha-vee?...Cal-ee-forn-ya?...What are you talking about? What are those places?” Cicero wondered, “It’s where you are now bud, you are in Nevada, Southwestern Commonwealth of America, the Mojave desert, west of the NCR?” Myrtle pause “any of this dinging any bells up there?”

He stared at her blankly “no…but if Cicero is in a desert is it close to Hammerfell…the Alik’r?...or is it in Elsweyr?”, Myrtle blinked “no…you got me even more confused now”.

“What direction is this Sky-rim?”, “oh it is very, very far north” Cicero replied as he carefully observed the strange metal woman, her greenish-blue eye and metallic yellowish green one never wavering from his amber gaze, “north hmm? How far north? Like Uta or…?” she pondered, “U-ta?” Cicero wondered “Cicero has no idea about any of these places you say!” he snapped, he was getting agitated.

Myrtle sighed “look I’am sorry, I don’t mean to anger you I’am trying to help you find your way home” Myrtle said softly, Cicero calmed down a little as her words sounded ginuwine “ok…ok” he sighed.

Ulysses arrived with food: a plate of potato-bread toast, sunny side-up gecko eggs, brahmin sausages and cactus fruit jam.

She took the plate from him and sat it next to Cicero, “ok, I’am going to uncuff you and give you a fork…please…don’t stab me with it” she kindly asked him, Cicero had to hold back a pout…he wanted to stab someone…badly…

She got close enough to where Cicero could have easily jabbed it into her neck…but he needed to know more about just where in the void he was…and killing the only person wanting to help him would be like stabbing himself in the foot.

Cicero eyed the food on the plate…it…was weird…

“What is this?” he pondered as he poked at the strange eggs, “gecko eggs…have you never eaten one before?” Myrtle turned to him, Cicero cocked his head in confusion “nope…” he shrugged, “well their good eaten I say, I’ve had them plenty of times in my life” she shrugged and grinned “nothing is better in the morning like a cup of coffee and a plate of gecko eggs”.

“What's this coff-ee you speak of?” Cicero pondered, “it’s drink, it helps ya wake up in the morning, would you like a cup?”, Cicero thought about it for a moment “well when in the Empire do as the Impirals do” the thought to himself “yes, thank you” he nodded.

Myrtle left to get him some while Ulysses watched him, “so…Cicero…your name” Ulysses’s deep raspy voice rumbled “it sounds very…Legionary…” he mumbled.

Cicero eyed the strange man with a metal mouth “Cicero’s name is a perfectly normal Impiral’s name…what does it have to do with the military?”, “so your military is in league with Caesar?...oh dear…Myrtle was begging to like you…” he sighed.

That got Cicero on edge, what did he mean by that?...

“who…Who is this Ceasar you speak of?” he pondered, Ulysses cocked his head “don’t play dumb, he’s the leader…” he gave a small laugh “former…leader of the Legion”, Cicero looked even more confused.

“So…in this world there is no Tiber Septim?...no Empire?” Cicero’s head started to spin, if his very NATION didn’t exist here…then that would mean…

Myrtle came back with a cup of coffee “I made it with some brahmin milk and sweetened it with a little ant nectar, you look like somebody who wouldn’t like just straight black coffee…” Myrtle opened the door to see an alarming sight…

Ulysses knocked out and Cicero attempting to break out of his remaining handcuff using the fork but doing so badly that he was only hurting himself in the process.

“CHRIST ALMIGHTY!” Myrtle screamed as she set down the coffee on a dresser and ran over to Cicero, she smacked the fork out of his hand and restrained him “STOP, Stop, stop…what’s wrong?” she gazed into his panicked wild eyes, he was like a frightened animal.

Cicero headbutted her…but that only ended in him hurting himself…“don’t do that please…my skull is pure titanium and I doubt your old flesh and bone one can do much damage…now calm down before I make you calm down”.

“You won't take my soul daedra!” Cicero snarled at her and attempted to bite her, he managed to sink his teeth into her shoulder but then he felt a sharp pinch in his neck…then…he started to feel…relaxed.

“Ok, I’am gonna cuff you back to the radiator while you calm down ok buddy?” Myrtle said as she gently laid him back against the wall, thank GOD she had a needle of calm-x on her.

She checked on Ulysses who was waking up, “Hey S.Grant you ok pal?”, Ulysses groaned “little fucker…headbutted me…hard…ow”, Myrtle gave him a small pouch of healing powder “here go take a nap on the couch and heal up”.

“What of Crazy-Ass?” he grumbled, “calm-x, was gonna use it on myself to ease my jitters of hoover dam…but I think in the moment it was needed more on him” she sighed, “Myrt?” Ulysses looked at her with concern, “don’t” she glared at him “don’t worry about me and DON’T bring it up with the others…got it?”

He sighed  and they left the room.

[rhythymicwriting]

Who Knew ~ Diavolo

"May I have this dance?" His silky smooth voice and charming golden eyes had enchanted them from the moment they'd arrived. The questioning amber shimmered amongst black feathers and gold lace. They wordlessly took his outstretched hand, slack-jawed and staring. He swept them in close to him, hips gently swaying together.

The pair gracefully spun under golden chandeliers. Soft violins accompanied their dance. The party seemed to move around them, the Prince and his partner an alluring centerpiece to the ball. Diavolo's classic white tie caught a small draft, lifting lightly off his chest through an elegant tailcoat. His cherry red hair shimmered under the amber lights. A playful smile danced on his lips. The black feathers of his mask gently caressed his oaky cheeks.

"You're quite the liar, you know." He teased, lips curling.

"I'm sorry?" MC replied, confusion painted in their features.

"I recall you said you couldn't dance, yet you seem to have bewitched my guests." He chuckled. MC's attention broke from his eyes, taking in the room around them. The entire room of demons was spectating their dance. A sprinkling of partners were taking the floor to join them. A few jealous eyes locked with MC's from behind feathered masks. Somehow, the Prince's gentle touch made the faces, that normally would have paralyzed the human, seem meaningless. They were no more threatening than the many paintings around the room.

"I hate to correct you, my King, but I'm sure they're looking at you." He laughed at their words.

"We make quite the fetching pair, don't we?"

"I'd say so." MC hummed, leaning their head into his chest. His arm wound around the small of their back, pulling their bodies flush together. Steps and breath in sync, the two swayed in place, turning ever so slightly. MC relaxed into their partner, relishing the subtle rise and fall of his chest. 

"I miss you, mio cuore" He murmured, his baritone voice sending vibrations gently through MC's cheek. MC tensed. They lifted their head, finding his eyes void of their usual light, staring through them.

"What?" Their hand caressed his cheek, panic flooding their veins. "No... Not again... Please, no!" He gradually became too heavy for MC to support, the two of them collapsing to the golden floors, color draining from the room. They laid his head on their lap, holding his hand close to their chest. Wine red roses bloomed from his chest. His paling lips parted, freeing bloody spit.

"No NO!" MC screamed. The room was empty and vast. There were no longer walls to stop their voice. Party goers silently laughed behind masks. Fans over lips taunting the pair. Sobs shook their body, heavy down feather sheets draped over their frame. Plush pillows caught their tears. The smell of him still lingered in the bedding. MC curled further into the cushioning, memories of their lover staining their mind.

"I'll protect you forever, mio cuore. I promise." His whispered in between kisses. He held them close, his arms wrapping around them completely.

They clamped their hands over their ears, screaming into their knees as memories of waking up next to him stabbed their heart. He said forever. He promised. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"You're nothing but a leech. Stop ruining his reputation. You don't deserve him."  The words of MC's peers returned. 

He only likes you because of that program. He doesn't actually love you, you know that, right?"

"He'll leave you."

"You'll loose him. Count your blessings before he realizes his mistake."

"You'll only be a burden to him."

"You'll be the death of me, mio cuore."  Their eyes widened at the sound of his signature chuckle. Yet, they didn't see his joyous eyes. They saw his lifeless ones. The cuts and bruises decorating his once flawless skin. The misshapen curve in his elbow. The root of his wing where it used to connect to his back.  Piles of lesser demon corpses framed his body. He had given a valiant effort, but even the Demon Prince could be overtaken by a mob. 

MC had limped towards him, throwing themselves down before their king one last time. Sobs and screams wracked their body, grief and guilt flooding their system. "YOU DAMN LIAR! WAKE UP, DAMN IT!" They cried. They gripped their chest, pain tearing at their heart. If only they'd been stronger. If only they had been more useful. If only they hadn't let him defend them. If only they'd never met him.

He was supposed to live forever. He was supposed to grow into an incredible ruler, one that inspired justice and peace. And here he lay, lifeless in a filthy alley like a diseased rat. Anger possessed MC. They kicked and scratched and punched at the corpses around them, making a larger mess of the scene. Papers scattered across the corpses with cursed names scrawled on them. MC would never forget that heart stopping handwriting. 

"Bivium"

MC should have been the only person to know that word. How did these demons find it?

Diavolo's true name.

Footsteps echoed off the walls, Lucifer and Barbatos appeared at the mouth of the alleyway. They rushed to MC's side as the human collapsed back to their knees. Lucifer followed them down, bringing their head into his shoulder. His gloved hands gently grasped MC, starkly contrasting the tense rippling of his chest and arms. Black feathers cascaded through the air, the sound of wings tearing through skin. Through the storm, MC caught a glimpse of shining golden eyes and a wide, toothy smile. Screaming filled the air once more, all three of the mourners contributing. The two demons were far beyond any humanoid form, Barbatos tearing apart the already deceased demons. He had given up looking for those who'd survived and settled for decimating the corpses left behind. 

MC couldn't bear to remember anymore. They could feel their heart tearing. The smell of his cologne suffocated them. The touch of his lips was still tender against their own. His firm grasp still lingered on their palms. His golden eyes still burned into theirs. His loving voice still hummed in their ears, "You'll be the death of me, mio cuore."

Their voice cracked, fighting for words. "I love you, my king."

[littlestar3737]

Olímpicos

Chapter 2

Twins

several years have gone up by.

Color and flash were skating around the ant-void "Yoohoo!" screamed flash "do a backflip!" yelled color

Color and flash were always together ever since birth.

Than a voice from the distance yelp "helloooo!" color and flash, both turn their backs to the voice then someone from the distance was hurling at them

"Heyyy color an flash mama wants you both now!" said the girl,

immediately color and flash recognize their little sister voice "purple" she was only a few years younger than them but yet very bossy just like pink and blue, color and flash weren’t the biggest fan of their little sister

"What does mom want now?" responded flash with a attitude "she always wants something from us" said color with a attitude too "well I'm sorry only if your children didn’t start another war in one of the main Multiverse" responded purple with pure disappointment at color

"A another one?" questioned color "yes!" responded purple "it's always Ange and Astra they are always starting something" yelled purple absolutely sick of it "oh my star I really need to talk to those two about fighting" said color with shame "you haven’t talked to your children in a month and for them it’s 100 years" applied flash "your right brother" agreeing with flash."just let Ange handled it she got this" said color without a care "no" said a voice from the distance everyone looked up and it was pink and blue "we are tired about the wars between your children color" said blue "you talking to your children will solve the wars and not leave chaos in the city" replied pink.

"So bossy" color was annoyed at this point being bossed around like a child isn’t the best thing "no matter what I do they always fight"

"they only started fighting when you left them all those years" at this point, pink was just yelling at color "ok ok! I'm trying my best ok being a mother of 5 isn’t easy okay" yelled color "then why did you have so many" blurted purple

"it’s none of your business purple" both color and flash left the ant-void to the omega verse where their mother and kingdom where it was

"it’s not like my fault they’re fighting" color complaining to flash "they’re siblings they always fight" said the flash "we never fought when we were young" responded flash

"You're right but I don't know" color agreeing with flash but felt unsatisfied

both made it to the omega verse and they stood pink and blue, guarding the gold gates and in the far gold Hill, they saw their mother now organize as the creator and to others a God, she’s just referred to be called "Asereth"

Color and flash both walked up the gold stairs while pink and blue eyeing them,

Flash was little scared about his mother only because color used to fight with their mother and was sent to the void for 1 hour and hearing color complaining for the whole day.

Went color and flash made it up the hundred gold stairs, Asereth was napping in her gold throne, color tried to wake her up until Asereth screamed

and startled everyone

"Oh my star I'm so sorry my children" panted Asereth trying to catch her breath meanwhile, pink, blue and purple flew up the hill to their mother

"Are you okay mother?" ask pink concerned "yes oh yes I'm alright" said Asereth "mother I'm truly sorry for frowning you" said color regretting her decisions

"i’m fine, please but we need to talk" said Asereth seriously with a tone of disappointment, color and flash already knew what will happen.

"lately I’ve been hearing a lot of complaints from the villagers and I think you know why"

directed Asereth to color "yeah yeah i know I don’t know why they always fight" said color never really caring

"This is their 50th war and there may likely be more, every time they have a discussion they break out and fight and it’s tiring they even broke one of my universes that I worked so hard on" said Asereth furious

"But mooom you know I can't stop them mostly Astra that boy never listens to me" said color not really caring for the situation

until Asereth Pulls color by her collar and says "if you don't stop them I will and you need my power, so go talk to them or else"

Color quickly tries to get out of their mothers grip and she's successful and goes behind flash.

They both discuss about the future of both children and decided to leave it to Ange to decide the situation.

[diamondangelkitten]

Vierapril Day 4: Clash

Annabeth smiles as the Endsinger dissipates into Meteion. While it had been a tough fight, the prayers of their friends had given them the strength to continue. “May we please, be friends?” She watches as Alinea kneels in front of Meteion and smiles, placing her head against the girl’s. Annabeth holds no ill will towards the girl. It had been the perfect combustion of terrible circumstances that had led them to this place in time, but at last it had been resolved. She turns to her comrades and sees Alira and Aurora smiling too. They all turn to each other and give each other a group hug, laughing at the fact that at the end, they still have each other… or so the thought went.

“After all this, now what will you do vaunted hero?” Zenos’ voice rings out and Annabeth can’t help but sigh. She knows that this will not end well, but she doesn’t know how. Alira rolls her eyes, “Can’t you just take a win? The world isn’t dead. You’ve been given, what, a third chance at life? Can’t you just find something else to occupy your time?!” Zenos turns to look at Alira, but it seems that he peers straight through, before turning back to Alinea. Eventually he opens his mouth, “As surely as you know the thrill of pushing your body and soul to their limits. Of confronting ever-mightier foes, dancing ever closer to the precipice, wondering if this will be the one to finally, finally fill the void. Such pleasures, you seek for their own sake, and no other reason. Is this not so adventurer?" Alinea looks at Alira, and a smile starts to form on the latter’s face. When Alinea looks at Annabeth, even she has to smile remembering her start as a guard patrolling the forest for her tribe. She looks as Alinea glances at Aurora, who sighs and shrugs, before giving a smirk of her own. The girls look at each other and nod in unison, as Alinea smirks and replies, “That, I can’t deny.”

And so their fray against Zenos begins. But soon, soon things take a turn for the worse. Alinea and Annabeth had chosen to tank in the fight against Meteion, where Aurora and Alira had taken in their magical classes. Annabeth and Aurora are throwing out shields whenever they can, but Annabeth can tell that Zenos means this fight to be the one to end them all if he can. When he does a slash that grazes Alira’s leg, she looks towards Alinea and they share a nod. Annabeth does her best to distract him, while Alinea works at casting her summoning spell, this time, to transport away. When Alira notices what’s happening, she’s outraged, but Aurora calls out, “You have a family, Alira. You have to be okay for Sibbie. Trust in us.” Alira makes sure she gets one more good solid hit on Zenos before being teleported back to the ship.

The three girls continue to get solid hits on Zenos as he gets more and more frustrated. Eventually realizing that Aurora is keeping them safe through her shielding, he gathers up his avatar and unleashes a deadly attack on her, breaking through her forcefields. Annabeth is just fast enough to block the killing blow on her, allowing Alinea to send Aurora away. Zenos is now screaming in rage that two of his prey have been left to escape. Annabeth goes in swinging, making sure to make every hit count even more so.

The fight continues for several more moments, but she notices the ground light up underneath her and she starts to feel the tug of teleportation. “Alinea, no!” “He wants me most of all of us. I’ve made my peace Annabeth. I’m not letting you die as well.” Before she can run out of it, Annabeth is brought back to the ship. She hits the ground with her fists, before realizing the jarring pain that shoots up her shoulder and causes her to see all the cuts and bruises on her. “Damn Alinea.” “Where is she? What’s happening?!” Voices shout around her, but all she feels is the numbing in her extremities and the feeling that she’s failed one of her closest friends.

[foreverisntenough]

fie i can’t even begin to express how much i care for you, i know it may feel like static sometimes on here, but TRUST ME WHEH I SAY there are some of us who constantly refresh to see if you’ve said anything at all, whether about a fic or just in general. I’ve loved getting to know more about the fie behind the screens, even if that’s through your IMPECCABLE fashion sense or ur insanely good taste in music, or even just ur replies when people ask about you. Please never forget you are loved and we think of u as so much more than just a fic writer, you’ve built a community and just like you, your words have helped me escape how hard life is sometimes and just know your work is so deeply appreciated because i can’t even fathom how many hours and edits and tweaks you make to produce the best fics for us. It honestly hurts as a reader to see other people be mad when the stories are not going how they want it to despite you trying to hear us out, i just wish more people trusted in your creative vision and ur insane writing skills but don’t let it get lost on you that there are people who love you and your work and honestly if you decided to stop writing fics entirely and just send updates now and again i’d still check every time because i know that fie is so much more than just someone writing to fulfill our needs. Take as many breaks as you need always put yourself first, never forget you are loved and cared for even by some stranger on the other end of this message, and when i say loved and cared for i don’t mean just ur fics, i mean YOU!! please take care of urself, you’ve done so much for me in these fics that you write and all i can hope is that you put energy into yourself the same way you do for us. You and your work has been my escape and has helped me through so so much so thank you and never forget you’re the reason someone is smiling extra bright today. sending so much love xx

This… oh wow. I don't even know where to begin because this message genuinely feels like a deep breath after holding it in for too long. You wrote this with such care and softness and sincerity—it reads like a hug. One of those hugs that wordlessly says “I’ve got you. I see you. I’m here.”

The fact that you refresh just to see if I’ve shared even a tiny part of myself? That’s not just touching—it’s grounding. I don't mean to be over dramatic but it's healing in a way too. It makes me feel like I’m not screaming into a void, like there’s someone listening even when the silence feels loud. You made me feel real, not just like a vessel for stories or a username on a screen.

And your kindness about my writing—how you know how much time and thought and tiny tweaks go into every piece—it really hit me. Because it’s so easy to feel like that effort disappears into the ether, like the weight of it is only mine to carry. But your words made me feel less alone in it. Less like I have to earn love with output and more like I can just be.

What you said about trusting the vision… I just want you to know that I felt so understood in that moment. Because that’s all I ever hope for—that people trust where this is going, even if it stings, even if it’s slow, even if it’s messy.

Please know your message is not just something I’ll skim and move on from. I’m going to carry this one in my little blogs heart for a long, long time. Because you didn’t just care about the work—I felt that you cared about me. And that’s so beyond special.

Thank you, truly. You made today lighter.

All my love, always. Fie xx 🤍

[volarevia-exe]

Introductory Post

Hello! I’m Via, a silly little person on the internet who accidentally deleted her whole tumblr blog one day and decided to make a new one. I wasn't famous or anything, so it wasn't a big deal HAHA

She/Her | 18+ | In college and crying | 💖💜💙

WHAT DO I DO? - ✹ I write and do art! I may publish my own works sometime but I might stick to fanart or fanfics or... something of the like! I also scream into the void when I go insane which is often <3

SOCIALS? - ✹ Instagram : @Urarocking Twitter : @Volarevia_exe (not active)

Fandoms and other info below the cut! ✹

FANDOMS - ✹ I have various more but I'm active when it comes to these down below!

MCYT - Hermitcraft and The Life series (Desert Duo enthusiast)

Sky : Children of the Light (Sanctuary Moth!)

Haikyuu

Genshin Impact

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Chainsaw Man

Soul Eater

EXTRA INFO - ✹ this list will gradually increase I guess lmao

I'm not the best mutual maintainer... I'm sorry but I reply slowly and not too comfortable with sudden DMs, so please bear with me! Feel free to chat but don't expect a quick return <:)

I will post some original content sometimes, but I don't do it often lmao

I don't mind Hermitshipping and Trafficshipping but I DO NOT ship content creators

[gilbirda]

Okay, I want to follow this content. What do I do?

Hello everyone.

So given the recent raise of "tag me!" replies in fics going around Tumblr, and given the recent awareness post about how disheartening, annoying and sometimes disappointing it can be to only get that kind of engagement — I've thought it was a good idea to explain what you can do if you want to follow content.

Basing on what Dis already added to the original post, this is a more detailed list of what options you have when enjoying the content you see.

I liked this prompt, I wish to see all the additions to it. How can I keep up?

You can subscribe to the post!

Desktop: Left click on the three dots and click on "Subscribe to conversation"

Mobile: Go to the Notes and click the top right bell icon

I liked this fic the author posted and I wish to know when they post the next part. How can I be notified?

You have several options here:

Find their Ao3! A lot of authors crosspost on tumblr and ao3, or prefer to post a more polished version on ao3 later on. Whichever the case, you can go to AO3 and subscribe to the fic/author there if you'd like

2. Follow the author! Really. We don't bite. You can just follow the blog, as easy as that. Want to be notified any time they post anything? You can subscribe to the blog and get a notification when they post anything

EDIT: THERE ARE "SECRET" DASHBOARDS, and one of them is a dashboard of all the blogs you have turned on notifications.

Blog Subscriptions Dashboard or go to Settings and turn on the tab in Settings -> Lab

A post about more fun Tumblr dashboards

3. You can still request to be tagged if they continue! But don't let that be the ONLY engagement you do. Like the post. Reblog it. Leave a comment saying what you like, a keysmash, a lovely "hey i really like where this is going!" and then you can say "if you do continue, can you tag me?". 9/10 we would love to write down your name. I can't speak for everybody so it depends on the person, but we want to not feel like we are screaming to the void. Engage. Respond.

KEEP IN MIND: Tumblr is a reblog-based social media. There is no algorithm. We get readers ONLY via reblogs. Likes? Likes are nice but do nothing. You liked the art? REBLOG THE ART.

Another post about reblogging, why it doesn't feel annoying for authors and how you can reblog and add tags faster on desktop and mobile

UPDATE: Tumblr feature for desktop!!!!! If you hover with the mouse over a post and hit "shift+R", post is automatically reblogged!

I liked this oneshot and I wish to know if they will continue it.

If it's a oneshot, RESPECT IT. The author may not have plans for the story, or doesn't have the energy to elaborate. Or if they do, it will be waaaaay later.

Whatever the case, don't demand a continuation.

Really, don't. Is very rude.

Still want to shoot your shot and see if they continue it?

Reblog it! Say why you liked it! In the tags, in the same reblog, wherever! If the author gets inspired they will continue, but remember we do this for free in our free time, you don't know what their life looks like. Respect that.

PLEASE NOTE: You can still find them in AO3 and subscribe to the fic/author there.

I like the AU/Idea/Project, how can I follow any new content for it?

You can follow a tag!

A lot of authors have a specific tag for their AU/idea/project (eg. "plant princess au") that you can follow if you want to keep up. Just check the tags in the post and hit follow.

Desktop:

Mobile:

And that's it! If I have more ideas or examples I will add to the post.

Remember, the point is not to make fun or to make people apologize for the "tag me" replies. This is informative for newcomers and older users alike.

If you have any questions or worries don't hesitate to ask! 🙂👍💖

[definitelynotshouting]

may i interest you in some scarian makeouts

Listen. We were all thinking it when Grian was screaming to Scar about starting resistances. Also technically this isnt even finished bc i wanted to put a proper opener on it before posting but,, i have unfortunately been too busy to sit down and write so i am throwing this into the void as is like meat pumpkins in the scarian enclosure. Mwah mwah please enjoy the food my fellow soldiers

"Scar, if you don't do something right now, I'm gonna start a resistance," Grian snaps. There's a tightness in his chest begging for release, to snap the building tension with the thunderous clap of TNT. The look he aims at Scar is nothing short of pleading, begging for some kind of intervention.

Scar, for his part, looks startled. "Um—" he stammers, eyes flicking over Grian helplessly.

Unfortunately, Grian doesn't have time for helplessness. "Scar, do something!"

"Do what?" Scar yelps in return; he's clearly out of his depth, fumbling for his bow and dropping it to the ground with a nervous clatter. "What do you— Grian, I don't even know what you want me to do here—"

"Just stop me before I do something I'm gonna regret!" Grian says desperately, and suddenly, a familiar glint flickers to life in Scar's eyes.

It's the bad idea glint. The I'm about to make this situation worse, glint. The I'm going to steal the enchanter, I'm going to run for mayor, I'm going to strip everyone's copper glint. Grian can't truly say he's surprised to see it.

But Scar only snaps his fingers. "Okay, okay, I've got it! You just— um. You— you know what, you just stay there, I'll come to you."

And before Grian can even process whatever that means, Scar is pacing forward, closing the distance between them with rapid, ground-eating strides. All thoughts of royal emeralds and resistances slide right out of Grian's head as Scar crowds into his personal space.

"Uh, Scar," Grian says, suddenly breathless for quite a few reasons, "um. Whatcha doing?"

"Distracting you!" Scar replies with far too much cheerful menace, then grabs Grian by the collar and reels him in for a kiss.

It's such an abrupt motion that Grian flinches before they can make contact, an electric shock running up his spine. But Scar chases that distance like a hunting hound, both hands coming up to frame Grian's face and hold him still— and then his lips are catching against Grian's, wind-chapped and gentle. Insistent. A warm, solid slide against his own, languidly coaxing them open. 

Another thrill of electricity runs through him, and after a moment's hesitation, Grian leans into it, eyes sliding shut as Scar's teeth catch briefly on his bottom lip. He's already fumbling for purchase— his hands flutter, trailing over Scar's arms before climbing to his shoulders, wreathing into his hair, and—

Grian tugs, just a bit too mean, and Scar's shocked hiss falls directly between Grian's teeth. If Scar wants to turn this into a distraction, he'll play along— but Grian's not going to make it easy for him.

"Oh, you are gonna get it for that, mister," Scar murmurs against his mouth, muffled and low, sweet as buckwheat honey. Grian shudders; every point of contact between them is kindling into a fire, spreading light and heat through his veins. He's swimming in it, crystalizing from the inside out, nothing but an empty, weightless cloud inside his mind. Scar's hands slide from his jaw to thread in his hair, and without warning, his head is gently tilted to the side.

Grian sucks in a sharp breath as Scar leans down and folds a delicate kiss into the triangle of skin between his jaw and ear. When he pulls back, the ghost of a breath fans cool air across it, wringing another shiver out of Grian's spine.

Scar leans down again; this time the kiss he presses to Grian's neck is not delicate. Instead, it's borders on a bite, nipping at sensitive skin until it begins to redden. Scar drags his tongue flat against what's no doubt a blossoming bruise, and Grian exhales in soft, trembling huffs that paint the air around them. Eyes closed, lips parted, a hazy glow curling beneath his sternum: Scar peppers his neck in kisses and bites, none quite as hard as the first, but intense nonetheless.

Finally, Scar dips to press one last, chaste kiss against his neck before pulling back and catching his lips once more. It's a faster slide this time, more demanding; Grian melts into it, curling his hands further into Scar's hair, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer. Scar's body is one warm line against him, an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him close, even closer than they'd already been before. If this is drowning, Grian thinks, then he'll gladly welcome the floodwaters. If kissing Scar makes him this deliriously lightheaded, Grian will drown as many times as he's allowed.

Eventually, the pace slows. Scar swipes a thumb against his cheek, breaking the kiss only to dive back in for another, shorter one. And again. Again. Grian hums absently, a tuneless, crackling note that catches in his throat as the kisses between them taper off into gentle pecks, a closeness neither of them want to fracture.

It ends with both of their foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, lips red and kiss-swollen. Grian licks his absently; they tingle, gently bruised, and the noise that trickles out of his throat without permission sounds wrecked.

"Good distraction?" Scar mutters absently. The hand around his waist has abandoned its post in favour of stroking Grian's hair. It's a soothing, lulling motion, and Grian fights the hypnotic rhythm of it.

"Distraction?" he manages to rasp after a moment.

A beat. Then Scar giggles, a bright, soap-bubble sound that floats in the sunshine around them. "Well, that sounds like a pretty good review of the Goodtimes Distraction Services to me," he says, and pulls away with visible reluctance. His eyes crinkle at the corners; he looks fond. "You need anymore resisting against resistances, you know where to find me."

Grian lets him go with a shiver and a dirty look for the cool air that rushes in between them. Despite the chill, though, he feels warmed through. "Yeah," he says, lifting one hand to touch the mark high on his neck. It throbs; he presses down just to feel it. "Yeah, I guess I do. Tha— is it weird to say thanks, Scar?"

"Only if you don't buy me dinner on the first date," Scar replies breezily, and Grian chokes on a laugh.

"I'll write that down," he says dryly, and joins Scar as he meanders back toward Scarland's Main Street, all thoughts of resisting far behind him.

[atlasscrumpit]

Hey there! I had 3 weird ideas to throw out there. Yandere MK boys with a reader who is either a werewolf, has a symbiote (like Venom), or has mind control powers (or more like mind powers Scarlet Witch has maybe?). Like they use their powers on the boys to try and escape. Idk something like that. Anyhow have a good day/night. :)

We warned you

It wasn’t too bad here, you secretly enjoyed it.

Having them take care of you felt nice and you definitely weren’t used to it.

But, Jake was angry and you were getting scared.

“I didn’t mean to break it.” You whispered, looking down at the broken cup.

“But, you still made a mistake didn’t you, mi amor?” He growled, stalking towards you.

“And you know I like to help you learn lessons.” He said as you felt tears in your eyes.

“Fuck off, Jake!” You screamed as he froze and looked at you in shock.

“That’s it.” He growled before lunging towards you, you quickly held your hand up and entered his mind.

You never wanted to do this to them, but you had no choice.

Your eyes glowed brightly as you stared at him, tears running down your cheeks.

“Get on your knees.” You whispered as he slowly obeyed and went to his knees.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, trying your best to stop crying.

“Stay here on the floor for three hours and don’t even try to find me.” You whispered before dropping your hand.

You quickly rushed around grabbing some of your things in a backpack before you ran out of the door crying.

—

It had been about an hour and you sat in an alleyway crying.

You wanted to go back to them more than anything, but Jake had hurt you and Marc or Steven hadn’t helped you.

Suddenly everything around you began to become dark as you looked around in fear.

“No…” You whispered as you slowly fell unconscious.

When you awoke again you were in an endless dark void, your knees to the ground and your wrists chained.

“Little witch thought she was more powerful than a god.” You heard a voice growl as you shook and looked up.

“Khonshu.” You whispered in fear before you saw three figures behind him.

“I think it may be time for a punishment.” Khonshu growled before Marc and Steven rushed forward.

“Enough, Khonshu!” Marc yelled, quickly kneeling to you as you cried out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done it. I was so scared, I’m sorry.” You cried out as they looked down at you.

“I know, I know you’re sorry. But, what you did isn’t easily forgiven love.” Marc whispered as you shook your head.

“No, no please, please I don’t want to be hurt.” You whispered before looking to Steven.

“Please, don’t leave me here with him.” You cried out as Steven looked at you sadly.

“What you did was wrong, love. That was an awful thing to do, once all of this is over we can cuddle as much as you want, okay?” He said, you sobbed even more and thrashed in the chains.

“Let me go!” You screamed as the three men began to walk away.

“No! Please, don’t leave me!”

—

Steven sat beside you bedside, watching your peaceful face in your sleep.

“How much longer will Khonshu keep her?” Steven whispered, running his finger over your cheek.

“As long as she deserves, Steven.” Marc replied as Steven looked at you sadly.

“She needs to go through this, Steven. She has a lot of lessons to learn.” Marc continued, making Steven nod.

Suddenly you gasped and woke up, beginning to panic.

You kept muttering Stop over and over.

Steven quickly leapt up and held onto your shoulders.

“Baby, it’s okay! You’re safe, I’m here!” Steven shouted as you rocked back and forth.

“Stop it, stop it, please.” You muttered as you began to cry.

“Looks like she needs more.” Khonshu growled before Steven stood up.

“No! You will not touch her again!” Steven shouted before going back to you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, love. I’m right here. No more punishment, such a good girl.” Steven whispered, cradling you.

You growled and held your hand up about to use your power again, before Marc took control.

“I don’t think so love.” Marc growled before he pinned his arms above your head.

He reached across to the bedside table wear a black collar was, he quickly clipped it around your neck, before backing away.

“There you go, baby girl. No more powers.” Marc whispered, a little out of breath as you clawed at the collar.

“I hate you, I hate you so much!” You screamed as Marc just watched you.

“Throw your tantrum, babydoll. It’s not coming off.”

[bakerstreethound]

Heart of a Poet

Relationship: Tolya Yul-Bataar x gender neutral reader

Warnings: fluff and hints of sadness

Summary: Nothing could come close to the home you’d been welcomed in as part of Stumhond’s crew. Tolya has been your longest and oldest friend, and with your birthday nigh, it makes your friend wonder what the future may hold. 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: This story is a little birthday gift for my friend @novaracer since I managed to drag them into the Grishaverse with me (not sorry ahaha). I hope you like it, my friend and know Tolya will give you all the platonic forehead kisses that you desire. Just to reiterate I know and acknowledge Tolya is canonically aroace and I wanted to stay true to that aspect of him and hope I did it justice. The relationship depicted here is a purely platonic and caring friendship. Please enjoy! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

“Did you write anything new?” Toyla’s mouth quirks, softening his features more. That’s how it all started between you, the companionship, the bantering, all because of your shared love of poetry. Tamar couldn’t stand it when he burst out lines at the most inconvenient times, but he ended up reciting them to you in the wee hours of the night regardless. 

Sometimes you’d huddle against the wall, the oil lamp between you flickering, your shadows moving along the walls while you both scribbled away and murmured bouts of verse, exchanging suggestions and friendly banter. Those late nights you cherished, Tolya next to you reading away the sleepless nights or the occasional nightmare infiltrating your dreams, slaying them like a dragon. When they got worse, trying desperately to hold you captive, Tolya’s poetry, his light brought you out of the void, providing you with peace, comfort, and companionship. 

Other times, you’d find yourself on the bow of the ship, embracing the sea air, refreshing your mind. It had become your second home. Tolya more so in the times of torment when the nightmares threatened to take you down a time or two. Haunting eyes peering into your own not letting you go screaming terror and murder, dragging you down into the darkest depths. You forgot it all when embracing the sea, infinite, full of possibility. 

Poetry, the sea, Toyla, your privateer band of misfits. That was your life the past few years and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

You pull away from your thoughts, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “As a matter fact, I have a small snippet of something. Perhaps I might recite it to our benevolent captain.” A small smile graces your lips as you watch him bite into a piece of bread, crumbs falling on his shirt. The laugh escapes you before you can stop it, a bewildered look falling upon his face as you shake your head, thoroughly amused. Tolya won’t admit it aloud, but he likes the sound of your laughter, a poetry it’s own, comforting and familiar. 

“I didn’t spill that many did I?” He inquires after he finishes, taking a step closer to the mast you decided to lean up on. 

You shrug your shoulders, leaning your head back against the wood, “Nah not more than usual,”  you reply distracted by the sky. The vastness of it never ceases to amaze you, the stars winking in kind, welcoming you into their secret world one where you were finally free, free from expectations, free to choose your path. No one else to have a say in it but you. 

“What can I say, I get hungry late,” the slight humor in his voice falters at your expression, frozen on the horizon, eyes blank and glassy, lost in memories, another time. “Hey, come on back to me, what’s going through that sharp mind of yours?” 

“Nothing,” you swallow, pulled from the chasm of chaos you’d stupidly allowed yourself to fall in again. “I’m fine. Can we stick to poetry for now?” 

He shrugs his shoulders, letting the matter slip away. “Of course,” he offers you his hand which you accept as he takes you to the other side of the main deck, settling by the railing on the side of the ship, his hands curling over it as he takes a deep breath. Everything is so calm and serene, Tolya’s presence makes you more assured, calm. He’s been nothing if not your most loyal friend through the years and the affection that has developed from it thrums through you, warming your heart. You’re sure he can tell by the way you look at him, when you stand beside him, inhaling the salty air, the silence comfortable between you. 

“You never did tell me it was your birthday again. I thought it happened once a year.” He chuckles and you’re grateful for the distraction. After all the years together, it is easy, both of you in tune to each other, when you need a comfort, a poem or distraction. 

You brush your hand along his gently, his eyes closing at the contact, before replying. “It comes every year and I still do not know why you insist on keeping track. I do not want to be reminded of my limited time here, though yours might be infinite compared to mine.” 

The silence passes longer, the ship groaning at the lapping waves. The rest of the ship is eerily quiet and you wonder what sort of spell has overcome it, the peacefulness of it all is almost unsettling. Yet, you can’t find yourself looking away from Tolya’s face bathed in the moonlight, the internal struggle he has within himself surfacing as he unclenches his jaw. He doesn’t move his hand from your touch.  “It reminds me not to take every day with you for granted. To know your days are more limited than mine. That there’s a lot left to live for while you’re here and I don’t want to think about what the world will be like when you’re not.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ll miss our poetry sessions that much,” you nudge him with your shoulder playfully, but he stands firm, his jaw twitching, taking his hand from under yours and clasping it against his chest. You can feel his heart rate, strong, steady and true. Never was there anyone more loyal to you than Tolya in your life you’ve been through countless adventures through the thick and thin. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him either, but he had many years, countless, almost fathomless compared to you. What mattered was that you made the most of your adventures together, your friendship cemented by your unbreakable loyalty to one another. 

No words will come to him, how could they now? His books and his faith have always been enough. When he looks into your eyes, your hand he holds pressed against his chest, he feels calmer, more surer of himself. You’re here. You’re not leaving and by the determined look in your eyes, you’re not giving in to the future, the unknown, or the what ifs. You’ll embrace the here and now, the thick and thin.

When you get back to your shared quarters, you settle against the corner where the pile of pillows are where you’d stay up to the late hours of the night practicing your word craft. He pulls you next to him, his hands stroking your hair softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You fall into his touch, drifting as you’re rocked to sleep by the sea and the sound of Tolya’s incandescent poetry, greeted with dreams of happier times, and a future of nothing but the eternal symphony of the sea.

******

[doodledoesthing3]

SUPER COOL SNEAK PEAKS OF THE CROSSOVER CHAPTER FOR MY FIC! This scene takes place in @monkiebois ‘s Tangled Star au!

Here we go!

1. “Hey there! Have you seen a black monkey? He’s this tall, clearly emo but we haven’t had the talk yet. His name is Macaque and also known as Liu’er Mihou for some odd reason.” Bei Da asked as the baby monkey stared at her in confusion.

The brown monkey began hissing at her, so in response the black haired girl hissed back. They were hissing at each other for a solid five minutes before a familiar voice was heard.

2. “How did you get in Ghonzhu’s garden?” He asked as he picked up Xiaohua.

“How did I get in who’s garden?” She asked back, not knowing who this ‘Ghonzhu’ was.

“Ghonzhu! Tieshan Ghonzhu? Are those ringing any bells for you?” The lotus prince questioned with an annoyed expression.

“Nope!” The child replied.

“Ugh… Princess Iron Fan?”

“PRINCESS IRON FAN?! THIS GARDEN BELONGS TO RED BITCH’S MOM?!” Bei Da loudly exclaimed in shock.

3. “You’re not Macaque. Where’s the real Macaque? Where’s my Macaque?” Bei Da asked as she glared at the monkey.

“Wha…I am Macaque! Who else is Macaque?!” The other version of Macaque exclaimed.

“ME, BITCH!”

Here’s a bonus sneak peak! Since my AU uses songs like there’s no tomorrow, here’s a parody of FNAF The Musical Night 4!

Macaque: Is it true? Are they here? Am I going mad?

TS! Macaque: One mistake's all it takes, and this may go bad!

Macaque: No one's there!

TS! Macaque: No one's there!

Macaque: No one's-

Nezha: Is somebody there?

TS! Macaque: Few more hours left for me to stall!

Bei Da: Why's that nerd sneaking down the hall?

TS! Macaque: No one's there!

Macaque: Someone's there!

TS! Macaque, Bei Da, & Macaque: Wish I could say, no one's/Someone's there!

Tang: Hey there!

Macaque & Bei Da: *scream*

Tang: Ok, good talk…

TS! Macaque: I'll fill the void with noise...just focus on me!

Macaque: Something's breathing out beyond the door!

Ghonzhu: Hey it's me, I swear we've met before!

Macaque: I don't care!

TS! Macaque: No one's there!

Nezha: Where'd Xiaohua go?

Tang: She’s in there!

TS! Macaque: Hurry guys, I think I'm losing ground!

Bei Da: Why's that closet making monkey sounds?!

Xiaohua jumps out of the closet as Macaque and Bei Da scream.

Ghonzhu: Please come help us!

Tang: Hat Kid has gone insane!

Xiaohua: *unintelligible baby monkey sounds*

Nezha: Does this help explain?

That’s all the sneak peaks I have for now! Kay byeeee!