#IM NOT SO SURE WHAT HE'S SAYING BUT IT HITS

[mustainegf]

idk if this is like too far im sorry if it is<3

the reader having a miscarriage and one of the metallica boys comforting her?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: miscarriage, mention of blood

𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 ¹⁹⁹²

I was puddled on the cold tile floor in our bathroom, my back to the wall, knees against my chest. Harsh fluorescent light overhead fluttered in the silence. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as I stared blankly at the cream-white walls.

The door creaked open, and Kirk stepped inside, the knit of concern deep in his brow. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you alright?" His voice was woven with panic as he knelt beside me, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

I couldn't bear to look at him, to see the fear and concern across his handsome features. Instead, I buried my face in my hands and let out another gut wrenching sob. "I...I lost the baby," I finally managed to choke between hiccuping breaths.

Kirk's face buckled, like a balloon that had been Burst as the weight of my words hit him. Kirk looked shattered by what I had said. His shoulders, so strong and broad, sagged under the crushing weight of grief. Wordless, he got to his feet then and stumbled to the sink, leaning hard on it like the cool porcelain would support his weight.

His face disappeared into his hands, fingers tangled through his curly hair while he struggled to make sense of the news that was so devastating. I watched him, heart aching for the man who had been so full of hope and excitement about becoming a father. Now that dream lay in tatters on the bathroom floor, along with the tiny life we had nurtured inside me.

There was silence between us, except for the soft sound of our crying.

Tears spilled afresh down my cheeks as I listened to Kirk's muffled sobs. The anguished sounds coming from my fiancé ripped at my heart, every choke and breath reminding me of what we'd lost.

I hauled myself up off of the floor, sore joints and all, shuffling my bare feet across the cool hardwood to where Kirk stood doubled over the sink, his shoulders trembling with the violence of his sobs.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, gentle, pressing my cheek against his back as I held him close. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my tears soaking into his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Kirk..."

He spun around in my embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his arms encircled my waist.

"I should have been there," he sobbed, scalding tears soaking through the thin fabric of my shirt. "I should have protected you both." His words were muffled against my skin, but the guilt in them cut deep.

Smoothing his hair, trying to stroke the pain from him, inch by labored inch. "It's not your fault," I whispered, though a small, treacherous part of me thought perhaps things could have been different if he hadn't been away on tour. If I hadn't been alone when the bleeding started, when the razor sharp cramps had ripped through my abdomen, stealing our child from me. But I still knew none of this was at his fault.

But succumbing to what ifs would serve no purpose. All we could do was cry together, cling to one another as the shards of our broken dreams fell around us.

As Kirk's sobbing had started to subside to a steady cry, that I knew was going nowhere anytime soon, I found my own tears welling up again, this time in a stormy flood. "This is my fault." I whisper.

"No, don't say that," Kirk begged, seizing my arms to snap my attention back to real life. But my words were out there, tumbling into the air like rocks into some stillness of water.

"I killed our baby," I whispered again, the admission shredding my throat in a scream. "I wasn't strong enough, I failed..."

Kirk pulled me flush against him, his forehead coming to rest atop my head as he rocked me gently. "Shh, stop," he ordered, voice firm, yet trembling. "This is not your fault. It is no one's fault."

I clung to Kirk, desperate for comfort that only he could give me. "How can you be sure?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "If maybe I had gone to the hospital sooner, maybe if I had taken better care of myself during-"

"Enough," Kirk said firmly, his fingers closing around my chin and tilting it upward so that I was forced to meet his eyes.

His eyes, so bright and filled with warmth, were now dark and haunted. "We're going to do this together, okay?"

I nodded, wanting to believe him, needing to cling to the thin, fragile thread of hope he offered.

[izzylovesmatt]

Confessions Part 2

matt x fem reader

summary - after matt confesses to his bsf drunk he is forced to tell her the truth and it ends up leading to something more than just a friendship

part one

(dividers by me give credit if gonna use)

⚠️warnings⚠️suggestive content,no smut (sorry)

As the morning glow seeps through the black curtains and fills the room i start to stir awake. I open my eyes as the sun hits my face i start to remember all last night, all matt's words were suddenly coming back into my knowledge even though i wish to just forget them. I see that matt's still sleeping so i slip away like a sly fox into the kitchen hoping to not wake the three sleeping boys up. I look into the fridge for any kind of drink that isn't soda. To no surprise there wasn't only pepsi's and dr pepper's. i go into the cabinet to grab a glass and i fill it with water from the fridge for matt. i grab advil and i make some butter toast to keep his stomach from hurting or from throwing up. As i slowly slip back into the room i notice matt isnt in is bed. i place the items in my hands on his nightstand and lay back into the bed and scroll on my phone till he gets back from what i thought he was doing. i thought matt was showering, well he was but he wasn't washing his body or his hair. He was faintly moaning and i could hear through the door. Did he forget i was here? is he doing it on purpose? or is he hurt and im just being dirty? What do i do? After hearing him a bit more it's obvious he isn't hurt and those are moans of pleasure. I can hear him moan my name slowly between soft whimpers. After 15 minutes of his shower i hear the water stop. Before he gets back in here i have to leave and do something away from his bathroom i can't have him knowing i just listened to him do that and i can't have him know it made me soaked. So i do, I get up and go back into the kitchen getting chris and nick the same things i got matt so i didnt look like a weirdo. I hear footsteps from nicks staircase i look over and nicks coming down rubbing his head and sighing loudly "is this for me?" he says referring to the toast, water, and medicine. "yeah for you and chris." i say getting chris's last peice of toast out from the toaster. "did matt get one? also chr-" nick says before getting interrupted by matt. "hey why don't i get toast not fair!" he says his wet hair still clinging to his forehead. "chill you did its in your room on your nightstand i thought you were still sleeping but i heard the water running." i say finishing up chris's toast as i watch heat rise to matt's face him realizing that i could've heard him moaning my name. "oh okay i'll um give this to chris" he says taking the plate from my hands. " oh there's a girl down there let me do it." nick says taking the plate from matt. "thanks nick!" i say shouting so he can hear me. After nick comes back up he grabs his toast says his goodbyes then he heads upstairs. "so y'had fun last night huh?" i say to matt. "well the parts i can remember yeah" he says with a mouthful of toast. "oh figures you don't remember anything." i say giggling at the boy who doesn't know what he said the very night before. "why are you lauging? what did i do last night that's making you laugh like that" he says covering his face with his hands. "wellll do you really wanna know?" i say still slightly laughing. "yes i want to know was it embarrassing did people laugh at me?" he says still covering his face "well first it's something you said and did but nobody else was around so-" he interrupts me "i don't wanna know i don't wanna know." he says getting up and puting his plate in the sink then sitting on the couch trying to remember anything he did or said last night. "are you sure it's kinda important." i say sitting on the couch next to him. " uh oh" he says. making it seem like he knows exactly what im talking about.

Time skip

After 3 hours of me and matt sitting on our phones and having only small conversations he finally said something to me that was more than a small conversation or a joke. "So about what i said last night" i turn my phone off as he speaks. "what about it?" , " did i say it in the club orr?" my heart starts to race for some odd reason i shouldn't be nervous around matt i never am. "well there were a few things you said. and did" , "okay but what would you say was thw worst this i did." i think back to last night when he asked me to change infront of him but that wasn't bad we do it all the time, finally it came to me. " well we were at the club and y-" suddenly he cuts me off "nonono i don't wanna hear just yet so we were at the club okay now where were we when i said the worst thing i said all night." , "well it really wasn't that bad it's just i don't think you would say it when you weren't drinking" , "yeah but where were we?" , "we were here and i was trying to sleep but you wouldn't shut up about-" he cuts me off again. " no i don't wanna hear it. yet" , " okay when do you want to hear it?" , "I don't know but i think i know exactly what i told you and i-" i cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. Matt kisses you back almost immediately, he softly grabs your cheek as you wrap your arms around his neck. "i- i" matt try's to speak but cuts himself off. "what matt?" i say still looking at him even though he's looking down now. "i didn't want to tell you this because your my bestfriend but i-" he doesn't finish is sentence once again. "what mat-" he cuts me of by saying "i love you." The room goes silent. I don't know what to say. "and i know i shouldn't because your my bestfriend but please don't go silent please don't stop talking to me." he says still looking anywhere my into my eyes. "i-" matt cuts me off before i can speak "i'll drive you home if you don't wanna be here i unde-" i cut him off "i love you too matt." he looks at me finally in the eyes. "wait you do?" he says with a look of relief on his face. "yes matt but you don't know how to shut up so" i say before he pulls me back into the kiss, it feels like the whole world stopped just because of a silly little drunk confession. "now how about i show you to my room and i have a even better thing we can do back there." he says pulling me off the couch. As we're walking back to his room i can't help but be excited over this new beggining.

i thought i posted this 3 days ago but i just saved it to my drafts also im sorry it's short and not that good my great grandmother just passed and i havent been doing the best but i will make a smut soon to makeup for this

[minty-bubblegum]

thoughts

THIB IS ACTUALLY A NEW LISTEN TO ME

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

when toshiro got on laios ass for being inconsiderate and never thinking about how his actions affect others like he was mean abt it but hes not wrong. Thats a pretty major character flaw and a pattern of behavior for laios — w not choosing jobs that made money for namari who is in a pretty dire financial situation where she cant even get off the island and has to go adventuring in the dungeon to get out of debt, who even explicitly brought this up, eating marcilles familiar immediately even tho she was attached to it, kidnapping shuro into his party and putting him in life threatening situations without like really checking he wanted to be there…?, wanting to see if izutsumi has more than one set of nipples when dehumanization is a HUGE huge issue for her the list goes on and on and on. Like when a friend does this to you its just kinda annoying but when ur the leader u really should be checking if everyones needs r met without them telling u. Like the autism plays a factor for sure, his cultural upbringing plays a factor for sure, but as ppl regardless I think u gotta step up to meet the needs of ppl in the moment or realize u shouldnt be calling the shots. just bc its influenced by factors out of ur control does not make it not a serious character flaw. And its written as such in the story.

[mabaris]

no youre completely right - im a gay (trans)man and i legit wanna see so much more about the women bc There Is So Little. I wanna make a lesbian oc who gets bent in half by taash. im very normal.

i’m just tired man!!!! it feels so obvious how disproportionate it is when you’ve got. a cast of characters that we know almost equally little about. and a few of them explode in popularity and it’s like spongebob sticking his hand out the curtain. literally all a character needs to do numbers is to be a light-skinned man

[unordinary-diary]

Blyke and John: Parallel Characters

I’ve written multiple entries about this,

[x] [x] [x]

But I’m back to make a comprehensive analysis about the glaring similarities between these two. I’ll try not to repeat myself here.

‼️SPOILER WARNING for the whole series‼️ but this mostly focuses on the story before John’s suspension.

Firstly, this scene:

ch. 121

This conversation takes place near the beginning of the Joker arc. It’s after John targets Zeke, after he targets Juni, and the day before he goes after Seraphina’s kidnappers. The timing is important.

“If someone hit your best friend, would you let it slide?”

That question is supposed to remind us what John does to people who hurt Seraphina: hunting them down and sending them to the hospital. Blyke shooting a destructive beam really close to John was an example of a trait they share: they both blow up violently when people mistreat their friends.

John’s downward spiral carries strong themes of hypocrisy. He’s angry at the world, he’s angry at himself, and as a coping mechanism, he chooses to believe that everyone else is as bad as he is. That means that most of the traits he hates others for are the same things he hates about himself. In this scene, Blyke is unintentionally calling out this hypocrisy: “What I did is no different from what you do”.

But Blyke’s just trying to connect with John here, he has no idea what John’s been doing. And John, of course, doesn’t give a shit about what Blyke has to say. This line was here for the audience to notice.

They’re both so similar, but their similarity immediately causes tension between them because, well, John was on the wrong end of Blyke’s protectiveness.

I really love the way this was written— there are so many flashbacks to this scene, but they remember it differently. John remembers the part that hurt him— he’d describe it as “the time that jackass shot a beam at me”. Blyke remembers the part that hurt him, or rather, hurt Remi: “the time that jackass hit Remi for no reason”.

Blyke and John are both hotheaded characters with strong ideals. They’re similar enough that Seraphina points it out:

(ch. 80)

As Blyke grows as a character, he becomes more like John: sticking up for low tiers and speaking out against the injustice in the world. But while Blyke is doing that more, John is going in the opposite direction, until they are fully opposed to each other.

Speaking of Blyke’s character arc, it took me a few rereads to actually understand what part of him changed. His kindness, selflessness, bravery— all of those things were there from the start. Blyke’s character arc was about becoming more aware of his surroundings, and how his carelessness can harm others. Blyke was never malicious, but after X-Rei and integrating more with the school, he becomes aware of people suffering around him and how he unintentionally contributes to it. He becomes less reckless, privy to the flaws in the system he grew up not questioning, and uses his power more responsibly. He even comes up with a more controlled way to wield his ability. The part of Blyke that changes is his maturity.

Part of John’s character arc is also about being careful. It’s not as close of a parallel as other things are, but one of the things that John works on during his redemption arc is holding back. Both of them learn self-control throughout the series, and for John, that means acting early before his emotions spiral out of hand.

Adding onto my first point about the two of them wanting to protect their friends— the fact that they can’t do that makes them both angry and desperate. For most of the story, the “block” that prevents John from protecting Seraphina is in his head. It’s his own trauma that holds him back. The block that prevents Blyke from protecting his friends is, guess what? Also John’s trauma! Parallels abound.

Another thing I noticed in Episode 80 is this:

Notice that when Seraphina says “I’d take that over strength any day,” John is looking at the camera. He’s avoiding Sera’s gaze. Seraphina is saying she prefers honesty over strength. John is very strong, and very dishonest, but Seraphina thinks the opposite because John is so dishonest. John appears to be reflecting on this disconnect.

In relation to this analysis, Seraphina is actually pointing out a major difference between Blyke and John. Beyond that, she’s praising Blyke’s traits, (less strong but very open) above John’s traits, (strong as fuck but a liar with his pants on fire). Furthermore, John really cares what Seraphina thinks of him. Knowing that she would think less of him is the main reason why he spent so much time and effort preventing her from catching his lies.

This leads into my main point here: Blyke is the “goody-two-shoes” version of John. Or, more accurately, the person that John wants to be. Blyke has a clean track record and doesn’t really get into trouble. He is respected and left alone by the school without being hated and feared, he de-escalates conflicts without taking things too far, he doesn’t lose control, he’s someone Seraphina thinks highly of, hell, even his grades are better! Blyke represents everything that John wants to be, and the person that he could have been if he’d gone down a different path.

But, crucially, John is also what Blyke wants to be. Well, not wholly, but his ability? His strength? It’s one of the things John hates about himself, but Blyke wants that strength so desperately that he risks his life for it over and over again.

They’re both desperate to be like each other, even when they hate each other the most. Neither of them have any idea how alike they already are.

I don’t know what Season 3 holds in store for us, but I do hope that John realizes that Blyke embodies who he wants to be, because mutual jealousy would be a very interesting dynamic to explore in my opinion. I also hope that it ends up being something they can bond over, by helping each other accomplish their personal goals. (Blyke being another helper in John’s character arc, and John helping Blyke train.)

A side note: John beat up Blyke four separate times. That’s more than any other character, which is interesting because John’s main rival is supposed to be Arlo. For reference, John has beaten Arlo twice, three times if you count the time when Seraphina intervened, and he only beat him unconscious once. But John beat Blyke to the point of passing out all four times, the worst of which being a shot clean through his chest. (shoulder? Unclear. S1 finale).

It’s odd, isn’t it? Out of everyone, Blyke is the one who John physically hurt the most. John’s only grudge against him is an old memory from episode 33, of an event that didn’t actually harm him. John’s grudge against Arlo is much more serious and again— that’s his main rival. So why is it that he’s so much more violent towards Blyke?

The problem here is that I’ve been thinking about these fights as “John picking on Blyke”. And that’s… kind of true? But while Blyke didn’t start any of these fights, they were all consensual in a way. He didn’t seek to fight John, nor was he ever happy about fighting John, but he was always a willing participant.

(138, 153, 206, & 211)

In three out of these four fights, John didn’t even expect to be fighting Blyke going into it. This is significant because while Arlo is John’s main rival, John absolutely fills that role for Blyke. Blyke’s own agency is what leads to most of these events. The reason, narratively speaking, why they fight so much is not for John’s character, but for Blyke.

For John, his reason for fighting Blyke so much is not narrative but moreso symbolic. John is angry at everyone and everything, but ultimately the person he hates the most is himself. It’s only fitting that the character most like him would bear the brunt of his wrath.

As John is having his positive character arc (suspension and post-suspension), he is becoming more like Blyke, and the two of them reach a point where they’re even more similar than they were at the start of the series.

In the Rowden amusement park, John does start to realize how similar they are:

(249)

Additionally, I want to draw your attention to the parallels between this scene:

Blyke and John’s argument in chapter 249

(which the image limit won’t let me add, scroll until you see red hair.)

And this scene:

Argument in ch. 121 (it’s at the beginning)

Two sides of the same coin.

Furthermore, in the S2 finale, Blyke is shown being taken to Keon. There is an implication that by Season 3, Blyke and John will share Keon-related trauma as well. Despite my pessimistic predictions, I do hope that this is a similarity that can bring them together rather than tear them apart.

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[callie-shifts-apparently]

I have played one (1) season of Fields Of Mistria and already i want to script a DR there omg

[berryblu-soda]

Anyways update i just didnt bother to post earlier:

fr God is good and the whole car crash my parents got into last week was so incredibly mild in terms of injuries!!!! worst was a bruised knee im pretty sure

ALSO-

*taps mic* HUG YOUR FREAKING LOVED ONES OR SO HELP ME!!!!!!!

[tittyinfinity]

11 years of being stalked and harassed by this man

[brutal-nemesis]

YWDaC: Turns Out, Forever Is a Long Time

Ayo we have FINALLY arrived at the end of Castys's lil pirate misadventure I hope you have enjoyed all of the delicious lore

←Previous - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: storm at sea activity, mentioned stabbing, suicide for "convenience" (it's not quite the usual level of he doesn't care but it's still not like bro wants to die yk), a little self harm (once again, out of practicality)

What Castys really wanted was to have something for breakfast, but responsibilities came first, so here he was, delivering a message that he could have ordered anyone else to relay, just so he could go back belowdecks and hopefully grab something on the way back, which made him wonder if he should have been given responsibilities in the first place, but oh well, he didn’t put himself in charge. Now, to get this done so he could eat. Castys knocked on the door in front of him, and upon hearing a noise that sounded like a word, he entered. Captain Izogie was sitting with her shirt partially off and her back to him, exposing the bold patterns of white fire ink curling around her dark shoulders. Alfyn was standing behind her with his hands on her bare back, clearly concentrating. It was a sight he’d seen before, but he always felt a little awkward stumbling upon it. 

“Uh, sorry, didn’t realize it was woman magic day.”

Izogie laughed a little as she turned her head to look at him. “Is that what you lot call it?”

“Less of a mouthful than whatever Alfyn says.”

Alfyn just sighed. “Estrogen production stimulation?”

Castys nodded. “Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Anyway, Captain, just thought I’d let you know the sunrise is red this morning, and given the clouds now, we’re all pretty sure it’s gonna storm. And yes,” Castys held up a hand, “preparations are already underway. Just wanted you to be aware.”

Alfyn, finished with Izogie’s treatment, stepped back. “In that case, I have a few things to secure in the med bay. If you’ll excuse me, Captain.”

Izogie nodded as she buttoned her shirt. “Thank you, Alfyn, you’re excused.” He gave Castys a smile as he left. “Thank you as well, Castys.” She gave him a thoughtful look as she pulled her coat on and stood up. “You know, when you first arrived, I wasn’t sure if you were going to last here, but here you are, my first mate, of all things. You’ve grown quite a bit.”

Castys rolled his eyes and smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, yeah, a scared tied up kid rarely looks like he’s gonna amount to anything. And it took you a few years to get that mouth off of me,” he laughed.

“You say that like it’s gone completely,” Izogie said with a glint in her eye, coming up to stand in front of Castys. Despite more than a decade passing, she still towered over Castys, the passage of time only showing in the lines on her face and the gray streaking her hair. He hadn’t grown any taller, but he’d at least gained some muscle and quite a few scars, which was well within the realm of expectation for being a pirate. “Well then, let’s go help out, Castys. This isn’t our first storm, and we need to make sure it won’t be our last.”

“I’d prefer to go down to a sea monster, at least. And I can’t imagine anything short of a hurricane taking you, Captain.”

“I’d like to see one try.” 

The storm that night certainly did.

The rain came down in sheets, driven to needlepoints by the harsh winds. It was more difficult than ever to hear the shouts of the crew as reports and orders were passed around, and Castys’s throat was raw from relaying directions to the men at the helm. He was glad for the storm sails, because even though they hadn’t had time to put all of them up, they were still making good progress through the crashing waves. At least, he hoped so. 

The ship’s bow pierced through another wall of water, and it was all Castys could do to stay on his feet, holding tight to the rope tied around his waist. Shit, one of the men at the helm had collapsed, and there was no one else to take his place. Castys ran up, grabbing the wheel alongside the others as he continued to keep an eye on the angle of the bow and the oncoming waves. It was fine, he could keep this up even as his arms burned from the strain, the hairs that had escaped from his ponytail blowing in his eyes and sticking to his face, making it even harder to see, the ever-louder thunder overhead drowning out the sound of his own voice. Didn’t matter if things were only getting worse, they had to keep-

CRACK

Everything was too loud, or maybe too quiet, roaring and buzzing, he was pressed up against the soaking wood of the deck and there was a ball of dense, sharp agony buried in his chest, making it hard to breathe, he kept coughing, couldn’t stand, couldn’t see, the blackness was coming, fading in and out, and all of a sudden he was belowdecks, blood and rain puddling around him, hands on his chest, pulling up his shirt, the words muffled, his chin moved up, Alfyn’s eyes were gray and full of fear, he hadn’t seen that expression before, or maybe he had, and maybe he was going to die, here, because of the storm, because he couldn’t breathe, time was up, that was it, those thirty-four years were over and done he wasn’t getting that time back no more tries he was satisfied with that right he had to be he couldn’t have any regrets because he wasn’t supposed to but it would have been nice if…if…

Castys woke up to a vast expanse of yellowish-white, which was not the color he expected the afterlife to be. Upon further inspection, though, it turned out that it was just a sheet over his head. After tossing it off and sitting up, he was greeted by a shrill scream that should have come from a young girl but actually came from Alfyn. 

“Chill, dude, you shouldn’t have put that over me if you’d healed me.” Castys narrowed his eyes a bit as he talked. Did his voice always sound like that? Maybe whatever injuries he’d had had damaged his hearing or something. He wasn’t in any pain now, though, so that was good.

“C-Castys you-you’re-how are you-” Alfyn ran over, nearly tackling Castys as he pulled up his tattered shirt to reveal a rather bloodstained but otherwise perfectly fine torso. Castys gave him a weird look, leaning away.

“Uh, you’re the one who fixed whatever it was, weren’t you?” He brushed his wet hair off of his face as he stared down at himself. Why the fuck did he grow his hair out, again? It was annoying as hell like this. 

Alfyn shook his head in disbelief. “I didn’t heal you, Castys. You-you were…both of your lungs had collapsed and I-I couldn’t fix it but-” He looked Castys in the eye, frowning. “You…you look different. Younger.” He ran a hand over Castys’s ribs, and Castys was very glad that he was more than used to the medic touching his bare skin. “There’s no scar from what just-” 

“Hey, what are you-” Castys yelped as Alfyn forced him to lean forward, pulling up his shirt even more to expose his back.

“You still had scars from your first day, didn’t you? When you were flogged?”

“Uh, I think so? I don’t really make it a hobby to look at my back, so you’d probably know better than me.” 

Alfyn sighed, letting go of Castys and standing up. “Well, if they were there before, they’re gone now. You…” He looked around at the patients lying on the cots on the other side of the room. “Do you feel alright, Castys?”

“I think so? I’m not in any pain or anything, but…I dunno, does my voice sound weird to you?” There were a few other things that were bothering him, but he couldn’t really get a solid hold on what they were. He just felt different, his thoughts more scattered, his arms less muscular than he remembered, the persistent ache in his left knee from a battle wound a few years ago completely gone now.

Alfyn nodded slowly. “Now that you mention it, it does seem a little…off.” He frowned again. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, Castys, but I have more urgent patients to attend to, and I’m going to ask you to stay put until we can get this sorted out.”

“But the s-”

“Fine then, I’m not asking, I’m ordering. Doctor’s orders supersede everything else, you know that. And the storm has almost passed. So stay. Put.”

Castys grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t move to get up. He knew all too well that Alfyn wasn’t above restraining disobedient patients, and he’d rather avoid that today. Bored, he peeked at his chest again. It was very bloody, but there were no injuries anywhere, and poking his ribs didn’t hurt like a bitch, so they weren’t broken or anything. What was weird though was that he still had some scars, just not all of them. The twisted one on his tummy and the clean line over his heart were still there. He slapped a hand on his right cheek and tried very hard to smile, finding that, yup, he still couldn’t really do it on that side, so the remnant of the gash on his face was still there. But the one on his knee, on his arm, and apparently the ones on his back…gone. It didn’t make sense. Unless…

He put a hand over his heart. Every scar he still had now, he’d gotten before…before that day. The day he still didn’t want to believe had happened. Just as he was about to dig up that lovely little box of buried memories, Captain Izogie rushed in, worry etched in her face. 

“Alfyn, is it true Castys is-” she laid eyes on Castys and the tension visibly drained from her body. “Oh thank Mydnar.” She walked over and crouched down in front of where he was seated on the floor, eyeing him suspiciously. “What…what did Alfyn do to you? You look like a kid again.”

“Not my fault!” Alfyn called from where he was working on someone’s fucked-up arm.

“Uh, yeah, I, um,” Castys laughed nervously. “It’s my fault. I think. But I’m okay! All the breathing is happening fine.”

Izogie shook her head. “You’re not making any sense. Laias said a broken piece of the mizzen top yard poked a hole through your chest.”

“It did,” Alfyn said, wiping his hands as he walked over. “Both of his lungs were punctured. I worked as quickly as I could after I pulled it out, but…” he swallowed. “Your pulse was gone, Castys.”

“But I…I’m fine. I’m…” He swallowed. Everything was so cold all of a sudden, that was the only reason he’d be shaking like this, right? Had to be. Unsure if he even wanted to know the answer to this question, Castys lifted his shirt, poking at the scar on his stomach. “Alfyn…what if a person was…was stabbed right here. And the knife was dragged and twisted a bit before being pulled out. And then it went,” his finger was over his heart now, “right here. Would that person…would they die?”

Alfyn looked at Castys in slight horror before slowly nodding. “Without medical attention, in a matter of minutes. Possibly less depending on how much the stomach wound had bled and how much damage had been done.”

Every worry line in Izogie’s face stood out more than ever before. “Castys, you-what are you saying? Are those scars-”

“I think so.” Castys dropped his shirt. “At least, from what I can remember. So maybe I…I already died. Before this. All this time I just thought I might be remembering things wrong, but if what Alfyn said about earlier is true, then…and it might explain why I’m…different.”

“So you think you’re some kind of…” the furrow in Alfyn’s brow deepened, “immortal?”

Immortal. The thought was sort of exciting, as ridiculous as it seemed, but it was also sort of terrifying. Why the fuck was he one, anyway, if it was true? He was just Castys, a random pirate with incurable amnesia about his childhood and hadn’t done anything special besides the whole…maybe this was some kind of fucked-up reward for finishing his mission? But then where had-fuck, okay, no more of that, his brain hurt too much. Why think about things when he could get some results?

“Hey, Captain, could you stab me or something? I wanna see what happens.”

Izogie, who was still clearly trying to process whatever the hell was going on, gave him a very concerned look. “No, Castys, what-even if you think you’ll-you’ll come back what if-”

“Well, I should have died twice now. So I feel like I’ve already gotten a second chance if I was going to be dead anyway.” He glanced over at Alfyn. “Could you-”

“I’m a fucking doctor, Castys. My hands aren’t-I can’t. No.” The other pirates cursed pretty much every other word, but coming from Alfyn, that word might as well have been a cannon blast. Seeing that neither of his friends were willing to stab him for science, Castys dropped the idea and let them examine him for a bit before finally getting cleared to go back to his quarters. The crew gave him odd looks as he passed by, just hammering it in even more that he was different somehow. Either that or they’d heard he fucking died and was now walking around perfectly healthy, which was also probably cause for concern.

Once he was alone, he pulled out his sword and looked at his reflection in the blade. From what he could tell in this shitty makeshift mirror, his face did look a lot more youthful than he remembered. The scruff on his chin and his longer hair did make him look a bit older than the age he supposed his body was now, but the beard was itchy and long hair was a pain in the ass. Part of him wanted to hack his ponytail off right now with his knife, but he’d rather not look like a total mess on top of everything else, so he could wait to ask for a haircut tomorrow. He could shave, however, and he felt a lot better once it was done. 

Turning the razor over in his hands, Castys wondered if he really would come back to life again if he slit his throat or whatever. Well, only one way to find out. His clothes were already super bloody, anyway, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Here goes nothing, then.

Why were his hands shaking so much? It was just dying, he’d apparently done it before, it was fine, he’d come back, he wasn’t leaving anyone behind, just a quick swipe of the blade and then…then…he’d come back, right? Right. A-and if he didn’t, he’d already cheated death before, so it was only fair for things to end now. Deep breath maybe his last-

The blade moved a little more slowly than he would have liked, a flash of pain before-

Castys opened his eyes. He was still in his cabin, lying on the floor, razor still gripped in his hand, fresh blood warm and sticky on his neck. S-so then…he’d died. And come back. And wasn’t in any pain. 

Some sick fascination drove him to slice a deep gash in his arm before turning the blade on his neck again.

He woke up just as healthy as before, no cut in sight.

That settled it, then. Castys…he was immortal. A deep feeling of freedom unlike anything he’d ever known washed over him. He could do anything, go anywhere, not having to worry about wasting his time or being in danger, because fuck that he was immortal nothing would ever stop him again. 

Lying in a puddle of his own blood, Castys couldn’t help but laugh.

He got slapped and lectured the next day for testing things out on himself, sure, but it was nothing in the face of his infinite future. He could go on with everyone forever and e-

Kamon left. 

Alfyn died. 

Izogie retired.

And then, one day, Castys was standing on the deck of the ship, his ship, and he realized he didn’t recognize a single face looking back at him. Well, he recognized them, but he didn’t know them, didn’t remember any of them from his life before the years felt like minutes. There was a divide between them, and he wasn’t sure who put it there.

Immortality was…lonely. Isolating. 

Someone else like him had to be out there, right? So he’d look all over, chase down every lead, even an immortal monster or something would do, he just needed-

Castys felt as alone as he was all those years ago, trapped on that deserted island, the passage of time impossible to follow. 

But no matter what, he’d find that ship on the horizon. 

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen​ @whumpedydump @theelvishcowgirl​

[cosmicpines]

I'm not done listening to the Alex Hirsch interviews but god it just reminds me both of how much I miss this show and how much I appreciate the love and care that went into it. I love listening to him talk about the characters with a frankness and care that shows how much he values them being three dimensional beings.

[skitskatdacat63]

Please god, can someone give me the strength to write ANOTHER 900 word essay in German, I DON'T WANNA I DONT WANNA PLEASE NO

[tommygotwrittenoff]

okay buck would definitely be like hey eddie let's spar together and eddie would be like okay!! sparring is so much fun!! and so they would go to a gym after their shift and spar and it would be Fine for about 5 minutes. before buck realizes he's in over his head and his size is Not an advantage with eddie because eddie is able to pin him down no matter what buck does. and buck would be so horny and frustrated the entire time and eddie would be confused because I thought you could fight buck??? why are you giving up once I pin your hands down??? and buck would try to be all ha ha I guess I can't compete against a former street fighter while actively trying to hide his erection

[acourtofquestions]

So Long, London is literally Feyre and Tamlin