#If its not consequence i dont know what is

[searsage]

She wasn't afraid, at least not for what would come, but what would be left behind..

A single human could not stand against the horrors of the night and hope for a miracle, yet she was content with her decision to stay with her vulnerable architect, decidedly not acknowledging what would come with dawn.

Robin would rather he be optimistic but she could not ignore the odds against her..

Her mind was a panicked mess of thoughts, on her surroundings, her worries, regrets…

Every snapped twig, fallen leaf, whispering breeze sounded so obnoxiously loud just moments ago..

What would Al-an wake to find..?

The anxious chittering around her has ceased..

Her remains scattered accross the bank?! Would he blame himself when it was her choice alone..?

Why was it so quiet..?

Of course her architect would, Al-an would never forgive himself.

A cancerous stain on an existence ungoverned by time, a weed nestled inbetween the joints of an immortal engine, how long would he carry her?

Her memory, her loss, her grief..!?

Suddenly an odd shiver shot up the resercher's spine, goosebumps rapidly rising on her shoulders as she felt a soft but unnatural breeze ghost against the back of her neck, the researcher's eyes narrowed, the hilt on the blade tightening in numb fingers, In a moment of numb resolve Robin turns around to face the adversary behind her…

It's not the night beast she expected it to be, no, the massive creature before her was so much worse..

It was so close to her, Robin could feel the heat radiating off it's slick black skin, and yet it stood motionless, as still as stone she may have walked by it without notice had it not been right up behind her, a massive splotch of vantablack against the backdrop of a dim and dreary forest.

Robin's heart thumps in her chest so hard it actually hurts as she stares back frozen in place, the way it's long neck bent reminded her of a viper poised to strike, but the dramatic bend of its neck almost seemed as if the massive creature's head was upside down..

It was impossible to make out its true visage when it's black skin seemed to swallow the scant rays of starlight escaping through rain filled clouds..

The air is so heavy, the weight of apprehension felt crippling but Robin remained still, her gaze unwavering, unwilling to give it an opening to strike, it would be foolish to show weakness, any wrong move could result in her death and that wasn't something she was keen on Al-an waking up too.

This stand off seems to stretch on for eternity, at least until the sound of a twig snapping shatters the tense silence and against her better judgement, Robin's eyes quickly cut to the side to see the familiar shape of a large night beast creeping up a tree not far off, it's pale glowing eyes watched her with intrigue but equally seemed to think better then confront the lone human in the presence of a much larger adversary…

A muffled noise has the resercher's head snapping back to the creature before her only to stiffen, it had shifted closer.

At her hip her PDA reiterates it's warning, a warning long too late.

"Detecting leviathan class lifeform in this region, proceed with caution. Error. Further system data required."

[aphel1on]

not sure how to phrase this but something i have been ruminating on recently is that xue yang is strangely fragile. obviously he is also incredibly resilient. he survived, and continues to survive, impossible things. he has a million barriers between himself and the world, but none of this actually matters when it comes to what he feels. everything is personal to him. everything pierces straight through all that armor and goes right to his battered heart, the heart that no one else believes he has. that even he is not fully cognizant of. the world strikes and strikes and strikes and so he strikes and strikes and strikes back, even (especially) when the wound is something other people would not think worthy of retribution.

xue yang would never realize this- would be outraged at the concept of it- but the way everything, everything is something to rally a defense against is in itself a form of fragility. he does not know how to let go of things, or let them pass him by. passivity is death. so he is ruthlessly cruel and violent. he projects himself as a lunatic untouchable by anything you might possibly do to him, and on some level he even believes this. but in actuality he is one raw emotional wound. he never learned to separate himself from his emotions, much less process them. the volatility is not so much insanity as it is the constant lashing out of an animal in a trap, and the trap is the world, and the trap is himself, and he is never going to get out. and like so much else, this pain is just part of the background radiation of his life. it hardly registers. to be able to register the hurt, you would have to be able to register a time in which you were not hurt.

i feel like it is a fragility that could blossom into such tenderness, given exactly the right set of circumstances. how at the very first touch of softness in his life he fell into a domesticity from which he never recovered. how much was there, still, to be salvaged from the cruelty. on some level i am always thinking about the little apple bunnies. about the meal for daozhang and the straw in a-qing's bed.

it was too little, too late. it shattered like glass when the world intruded back in. but the tenderness was there. no one, least of all xue yang, knows what might have happened had it been unearthed in him any sooner.

[pagesofkenna]

it's basically the same explanation as in the manga, but the anime has made it easier for me to understand what Kabru's beef is with the Touden siblings, and I think that explanation was really well done

[arson-09]

i dont think ill ever recover from the pure tragedy that is Touya Todorokis story/life. Genuinely the ending did mental damage to me

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i f. i fucking forgot a pencil so i cant scribble out this Thought i had while on a lil road trip today - basically i was thinkin about Wally, as ya do, and i asked myself why does Wally eat with his eyes? its such a Fascinating yet somewhat Out Of Place choice for him. how did Clown come up with that? its so unique. it stands tf out.

and then i remembered Frank & Poppy's convo for their 'bug' audio, and how he says "you eat with your eyes first" and like... thats a real phrase. ive heard it in my life. & it set off lil alarm bells in my head the first time i listened to the clip, i just hadnt connected the dots yet. so its feasible that thats why Wally eats the way that he does - and an in-universe explanation could be that Wally heard the phrase before he could learn how to eat 'properly', and took it literally

essentially:

Frank: you eat with your eyes!

Wally: *rdj meme format* you eat with your eyes

[yourcomputerr]

slow wifi wishing you a very die

[nie7027]

Hot take here but...

Like I know this is Tumblr. This is the autism site.

So of course I knew everyone would side with Laios on this and empathize more with him but its driving me insane how everybodys saying Toshiro was completely on the wrong here and he should have communicated better and talked about his grievances with Laios WHEN THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS IS THEY WERE BOTH ON WRONG HERE.

LIKE THERES A REASON CHILCHUCK BRINGS UP HOW LAIOS SHOULD WORK ON HIS SOCIAL SKILLS A COUPLE OF EPISODES AGO/JUST BEFORE THIS HAPPENS?

like I know most of you don't like it but social cues ARE a part of society culture. Social cues ARE a form of communication.

In fact they were made to facilitate communication.

They were made so everytime Alice and Bob annoy each other they don't have to go and have a heart to heart when a simple gesture can have the same effect.

In fact sometimes better because sometimes addressing something with words makes it come out stronger/ruder than it is.

And sometimes just like you have problems understanding social cues some people have problems speaking, finding the way to words their thoughts/feelings correctly.

Specially among strangers where you don't know the others personality or how they could react to your words.

That's where social cues, that are general rules the majority of people have agreed on, work. To facilitate convivence.

And yeah there's an argument to be said about how you are supposed to know them if they are unspoken rules and the thing is YOU LEARN THEM THROUGH SOCIAL INTERACTION, through living in a society.

Just like gender norms and the like you don't learn them in school during a boring lecture where a professor lists them on the board. You learn them through interaction and repetition, throught observing your peers. Just like learning to talk and walk and other stuff. Heck, your parents and other adults around are supposed to ease you into it.

And yes, it's not a perfect system. But nothing is.

The saying 'communication is the key' doesn't refer to just talking.

Social cues and other non spoken gestures are also another form of communicating. Equally as valid as all the others

There's beauty in talking and openly expressing your love to someone. Or your grievances.

But there's also beauty in grabbing someones arm or the you picking up your friend is uncomfortable due to the turnup of their mouth or the way they stand.

One isn't superior to other. They are supposed to complement each other

Laios and Toshiros mistakes were relying completely in one or the other instead a compromising and finding a middle point.

Toshiro should have expressed his annoyance at Laios.

And Laios should have picked better Toshiros signs of discomfort.

(All of this isn't even taking into account how they come from different cultures and shock it comes with it because others have talked better about it and I wanted to focus on this. On how even if they have from the same background Laios should have also been a fault.

Hell not only social cues even talking is affected by ones cultural background. What for me is normal could come out as rude for someone in Japan)

[camzverse]

Nooo cam u dont want to analyze the psychology behind mikes actions in the bite of 83 even though scott didnt put anywhere near your amount of thought into it noo dont do that. freak

[whomeidontknowthem]

Eyes on me – an interactive whump story. Part 5.

Previous part. Masterpost.

Content: institutionalized slavery, imprisonment, dehumanizing language, it/its for an inhuman whumpee, pet whump, whipping, blood, physical abuse, withholding of food, training, torture, intimate whumper, carewhumper, mentioned pet death, tell me if i missed something

Lord Teelo didn’t strike. 

He lowered his arm, eyes never straying from holding the creature’s terrified gaze. The room reeked of blood, now streaming down the lord’s fingers in a warm waterfall. He worked hard on pushing his fury back, taking it under control as many times before. He was in control. He would show it, careful and persistent and levelheaded. He would make sure it remembered the lesson forever. The crop was not meant for punishments, it was too short, too soft – he hadn’t meant to punish it. He was going to be a kind and gracious owner. It had left him no choice!

He opened the door, finding the redheaded guard still in the corridor.

“Get a proper whip,” he ordered. “More chains – gods damned handcuffs, whichever idiot thought of leaving it like this?! And a knife, scissors – or whatever, something to file its atrocious claws.”

The guard stared at him, not in the face – at his arm. Lord Teelo felt it – the consistent drip-drip-drip of his blood. He didn’t feel the ache yet. Nothing but the quiet, cold fury he couldn’t wait to unleash at the world. Haltingly, the guard started, “Should I bring someone to take a look at–”

“I have told you what you should do,” his voice came out as a hiss.

“Yes, my lord,” the guard saluted and hesitated only a moment before running down the corridor. 

Lord Teelo closed the door with a loud crash. He paced inside, steps echoing around the room, as the pain slowly started to radiate out. He hated it. Oh how he wished he could slice the thing’s skin just this moment, not waiting for anything and anyone. He picked up the crop once more, stoped before the creature – it cowered to the very corner between the wall and its cage, never letting its eyes away from him. Oh, now it was looking. It dared to look! 

“You think yourself smart?” the lord hissed. “Think you did something good for yourself? Oh, no, you’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna regret this so much.”

The pain seeped into his consciousness with every heartbeat, radiant and nauseatingly familiar. He held a handkerchief to the cuts until it filled with deep red. He threw it away – it landed in a wet disgusting lump on the table, by the bowl of wet disgusting meat. Oh how the lord had tried to be a nice host, how he had tried to accommodate this, this– 

“Damned, ungrateful, hateful beast!” Lord Teelo roared. The glass of the bowl nearly slipped from his bloodied fingers when he grabbed it, and then shattered to thousands pieces to the side of the creature’s head. Its dinner fell onto the floor, useless. Oh, it wouldn’t get any, it would have to work, to beg for any crumb from then on – it would regret, regret it so much!..

The door slid open soundlessly after a short knock, letting in the heavy footsteps and the clanging of metal. The lord turned on his heels, facing the guard. “And why in the world have you not brought a damned healer!” he hissed. “Can’t you see I’m bleeding out!”

The guard blinked. “But you have–” 

“YOU DARE ARGUE WITH ME?!” 

He was struggling to breathe, chest heaving with effort. The blood was still warm down his arm, still bright on the broken glass and light wood of his floors. How could the idiot not understand!

There were chains in the guard’s arms and a leathery length of the whip. Lord Teelo snatched it and demanded, “Chain it up!” The guard hesitated, opened his mouth. “NOW!” 

He did. The lord watched as he came to the beast, careful with his steps, cautious of it. It squeezed itself deeper into the corner. Lord Teelo could see it shaking. He was delighted to see it shaking. The guard reached out, the first cuff prepared, and Lord Teelo watched from a step away as it lifted its hands up, close to its chest. Its teeth were bared, pupils wide and eyes wider. It tried saying something, but what came out was only a mess of sounds with no meaning. 

The guard squeezed its arm even as it tried to avoid it. It whined and fought back, tried getting out of the grasp, tried pushing him away, tried and fought and struggled as he cursed under his nose. Its claws went through the skin of his palm ripping out a sharp hiss. It managed to raise its hind leg as the cuff clicked around its wrist, its claws scratching against the metal in an effort that only delayed the inevitable. 

Lord Teelo had little patience left. He stepped forward, connecting his heel with the middle of the creature’s tail. It yelped, flinched backwards – its head connected with the wall, and before it could regroup the second handcuff was in place. After that, restraining its legs was only a matter of time.

“Turn it around,” the lord ordered. Chains clang as it fought in an ever increasing panic. “To the wall, yes… yes, just like that.” The locks rattled, forced closed. The guard let the key fall onto the ground, forcing the creature to kneel. It hid its tail between its legs, whining as its head was pressed into the wall. “Is the chain short enough? Will it be able to move?”

“I don’t think so, my lord,” the guard answered. 

Lord Teelo played with the whip, trying it out. “Good. Go fetch the healer– wait. I need – something sharp, something – to secure on its tail. See how it hides it? I need something it can’t hide from.”

The guard looked puzzled. He eased his hold in a test, and the creature threw its whole weight backwards, fighting the chains. They held. Kneeling, with its tail hidden and only back visible, it looked strikingly like a human. “Perhaps clothespins, my lord?” It wasn’t what he had in mind. What he wanted – it wasn’t that. Not this easy, tame solution.

“It would work,” he drew out. He would go to the smith when he had time. He had an idea, oh, that would be a genius idea. “Just this once."

He flexed his left arm and rubbed his right. It hurt as all deaths, but it had stopped bleeding. He failed to crack the whip the first time but managed it the second, inches from the creature’s back. The guard bowed, taking it as a sign to leave. 

The creature mumbled and mumbled more, sounds a meaningless mush falling from its tongue. If Lord Teelo was generous, he could see it as an apology; he would not even entertain the possibility of giving in to it, of course. 

The second crack was right by its ear. It flinched and curled up further but couldn't hide.

It wailed when the whip connected with its back – so loud, so quickly, taken by surprise. Lord Teelo bared his teeth in a smile and struck again, violent purple already flowering on the gray of its skin, and struck again without waiting – three, four, six, twelve hits in a row, as it flinched and writhed and cried out.

He paused afterwards, and saw as it tensed, first, its whole body shaking with the effort of breathing, hiccupping in what sounded almost like sobs. He waited, watching how it trembled more and more. He let it marinate in the anticipation, the fear coiling and coiling with no release, the stinging of its sore back growing as its patience ran thin. 

When it raised its head, just barely, as if to look, the whip snapped through the air again. 

It screamed out. He didn’t give it time to recover. 

The lord hit it with no pattern, pausing and continuing at his leisure, until his arm grew heavy with pain and the creature nearly silent. Lord Teelo could only hear its labored breathing, air forced out of its body with every strike. Its back bloomed with purple that gave way to red when the skin opened, the new lines covering the rainbow pattern in an unstructured, repulsive mess.

Oh, he nearly pitied it, trembling pathetically in the corner. Then he rubbed his arm and the sharp pain was enough to remember why he didn’t. 

He struck for the last time, lazily, with his left, and then a few more for a good measure. When a polite knock announced the guard’s return, he felt pleasantly tired, like after a good work out. He called out for the man to enter. 

The guard did and the healer, an old woman the lord knew for most of his life, followed in. She looked the room over with stony, unreadable expression, and Lord Teelo met her gaze with a nice enough smile. “You’ve got your toy,” she stated and that was all the attention the creature got from her. 

She made a quick enough work of the wounds: cleaned and bandaged them up after applying that miraculous numbing cream the lord appreciated since early childhood. The creature would appreciate it even more, he thought, glancing at the pathetic thing. It had shifted at some point, stretching its legs just a bit but keeping its head hidden. Its body shook violently, trembling so much it in itself looked tiring. 

“Should I look it over?” the healer suggested, all business. 

The lord huffed, “What would the point of a punishment be then?” 

The woman looked him over with that annoying, unreadable gaze. “Call me whenever you change your mind,” she bowed and left when he dismissed her. 

Lord Teelo tried the clothespins with interest, forcing the spring to coil and then letting it go softly around his finger, just a tad, until it started hurting. “Good enough,” he concluded finally and got up. 

The creature flinched when his boots stopped by its form but didn’t try anything. “Poor thing,” he drew out and crouched, ran his fingers along its back lightly, brushing fingertips over the painful ridges of future bruises. Its breaths hitched, but it didn’t make a sound. “And all you needed was to not act like a brainless brat to avoid all this. You have no one but yourself to blame, silly thing,” he told it. It didn’t answer, shivering under his touch but not attempting anything stupid. 

“But maybe you can learn,” he hummed and moved his hand down to where its tail started. It tensed even further, if it was possible at all. “Let’s just make sure the lesson sticks, huh?” It curled up even further as he tagged on its tail, releasing from under the creature’s body. He flickered it back and forth and rubbed between his fingers and was satisfied when it sobbed and shuddered but remained motionless otherwise. 

“Like this, yes,” he muttered. With the softest touch of his second hand, he stoked its head. “But look at me now. Eyes on me,” It didn’t understand. He caught a fistful of its fur and tagged. “Eyes on me.”

Too drained to resist, it lifted its head as he guided it. “Eyes on me,” he demanded again, and it either guessed or truly learned – its gaze settled on him, focusing to the best of its ability – and, oh, what a pathetic mess it looked, eyes bloodshot and wet in ways he’d thought only a human's could be, dark lines from where it pressed into the floorboards marking its cheeks. There was something red around its mouth – did it bite itself, the poor thing? 

Lord Teelo clicked his tongue, smiled softly and released its fur. It settled back instantly, curling up again. Its tail remained in his hands. 

He picked up the first pin. 

It must have assumed at first that he was just playing like he had been, – at least, it didn’t seem to tense up too much, nor expect the sharp pain when he released the spring around its tail. It shuddered, head whipping up, staring at him once again. He smiled. Picked up the second clothespin. 

It tried to get its tail free – oh, it tried as much as it could without hurting him, but he tightened the grasp and played with the pins as it couldn’t help a new whimper, and hushed it and urged it to sit still. “That’s for you to remember the lesson better,” he told it pleasantly. It must have cried, body shaking again, and tried to kick just once, the movement stopped halfway through by a short chain. 

Lord Teelo wondered how many pins would be good for it – should he go with the whole set the guard had brought? He settled on five, at the end, a nice even number not even halfway through what he had. He was feeling rather merciful and forgiving, and it sounded just so pathetic. 

He called the guard in to urge it into the cage when it was done. It didn’t even try fighting, following the man's tagging and pushing until it was inside, drawing its limbs close and curling up to fully fit. Nearly immediately, its fingers itched towards the pins, human-like thumbs ready to work on the problem. Lord Teelo snapped his fingers to get its attention.

“No,” he said, words dripping with finality. He reached through the bars and tagged its tail outside. “The clothespins stay here for the night,” he told it. It probably didn’t understand – there was so little thought in its eyes. He let go of it hoped for its sake it understood what he meant. He didn’t want to have to punish it so soon for their lack of common language. 

When he went to sleep, the shaky breaths and the rare clanging when it tried to settle more comfortable sounded like a lullaby to his ears.

In the morning, his arm stung mercilessly and unendingly, and no melodies of birds and gentle sunrays could make his mood better. He turned lazily, letting his eyes fall onto the cage. The creature was curled inside of it, eyes shut tight and ears flickering restlessly. Its tail fluttered too, freed at some point from the pins, one of its hands curling around it protectively. 

Lord Teelo felt stuck between endearment and irritation. He moved and the cuts on his arm ached, and irritation won. 

“Hey… you,” he called and realized he hadn’t come up with a name. He should think about it as some point, he decided grimly, and banished the thought of the last pet he’d named, back in childhood. That was a just a cat, a stupid spoilt creature with too much attitude. The lord remembered the way it looked, painted red and unmoving, after crossing one too many lines. 

The creature didn’t move at his call, either. He picked up an extinguished candle from his bedside table and threw it towards the cage. “Hey!” 

There was no reaction. With an undignified groan, he forced himself on his feet and towards the cage. He rattled the key across the bars, the way that always seemed to get the creature’s attention.

It didn’t react. It was outright ignoring him! 

Had it learned nothing?!

He reached through the bars and tagged on its tail, finally getting some response in return – it flinched weakly and grimaced. Slowly, its eyes fluttered open, but didn’t settle on the lord. They looked as if through him, unfocused and dizzy, and a pang of worry cut through the just rage when they closed back and its chest heaved, struggling for breath. 

Something was wrong.

He reached through the bars and towards its forehead, forgetting for a second it wasn’t a human. The skin under his fingers was blasting hot and sickly wet. It moved closer to his fingers, all but nuzzling against him. 

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Updates every 7-10 days (depending on how much time I have and how obvious the poll result is) (unless something goes wrong and it takes me too weeks to get myself to write something. I'm so very sorry about the delay!)

@isikedmyself878, @fraugustends, @otterfrost, @fuchstastisch, @3-2-whump,

@the-lone-youth, @will-o-the-wips, @catnykit, @granny-aaravos, @mj-or-say10

Tell me to be tagged in the new parts!

[spamtoon]

i would take their poison

Sketch + Line Art for those Clicking Under the Cut(tm) (archival purposes honestly)

[seariii]

Wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife babygirl wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife love wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife princess wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife honey wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife wife

[rexscanonwife]

Also, last night my best friend (and co-creator of Kepler) was watching HTTYD and telling me about how Kepler-core Hiccup is and I said that Hiccup would actually make a great voiceclaim for any AU where Kep lives and grows up 😅😅 and I was talking about how fucked that is to my partner and they said we're this image

[anxiously-sidequesting]

So I don't know if it was ever revealed how Duncan felt when we killed Malistaire all three times but I'm wondering if maybe some part of him could hate us for that too. Like you hear that and you go "but why. Malistaire was terrible and even Duncan knew that(?). Why would he hate you for getting rid of him."

But like I think it's so....... interesting in a very, very, very sad way how Duncan so easily latches onto anyone who directly feeds into his delusions of grandeur. And that's no fault of his own that he was manipulated by the nasty Schism but when you think about how desperately clung to the idea that Malistaire, easily one of the greatest necromancers any of us had ever heard of (at that time), somehow actually recognized Duncan's talents (even when canon supports that Duncan wasn't all that talented, at least no more than the next necromancer) and then praised him for it so often that Duncan believed that he would be the next Death Professor is. I mean ☹️

So like with that mindset I unfortunately feel like it would be quite easy to twist even Malistaire's death as something that's horrible and awful and all our fault. ESPECIALLY if the Schism was feeding into Duncan's already broken mind and shattered ego and was constantly telling him that everything bad that ever happened to him ever in his life was Our Fault. That's like a realistic conclusion that someone like Duncan could come to

And like, at this point in time, are Malistaire's crimes even a factor in how he thinks????? Was Duncan ever able to separate Malistaire's talent and skills and prowess from the terrible and awful things he did? If Duncan wasn't able to consciously tell that distinction in the first place I can't imagine it would be any better during the years he was being manipulated and isolated and lied to

Like in Duncan's mind it probably isn't, "maybe I shouldn't idolize a national criminal, or idolize anyone at all for that matter, and aspire to be like someone so harmful when I can recognize my own talent and build from there" it's probably more like, "you (the wizard) permanently got rid of a brilliant mind, an innocent person who just made a few mistakes, and someone who believed in me no matter what just so that you could be the better than me and loved by everyone else" and that's! very sad actually!

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[im-smart-i-swear]

very importrant oc diagram

more in depth descriptions of this stuff below ig

omg same trauma - sympathy and respect but also acknowledging youre not the same. propably the most normal out of the three options. you know very intimate stuff about this person but you have never met and its weird. you live your life normally but sometimes you wonder what it would be like to meet him

i will never be as cool - constantly comparing yourself to him to the point a big chunk of your personality still revolves around your connection to him (in ryous case this is mixed with seeing shiro as a sort of idealised perfect father figure despite never having interacted with the guy before)(its really weird and he tries to be secretive abt it but the others knows anyway)(like kiddo they can tell)(youre not subtle at all). he is soooo good and so pure and perfect and you will never live up to that no matter how hard you try. there must be something wrong with you

gender dysphoria - what it says on the tin. you have this guys memories and voice and body and face and it makes you want to scream and cry and kill him and bury his body in the woods so nobody can ever find it

(also to clear things up this diagram and the explanations are written from a point in the timeline before the whole 'stickbug gets mind controlled' thing so the clones havent met shiro yet)(also also obv this is pretty simplified)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i only just found your au and i need everyone to have a happy ending so badly im gonna cry ;-; sally is gonna be so freakin upset when she wakes up for real and sees she decimated barnaby.

oh, Barnaby already has his arm stitched back on when she wakes up! and really, even if he didn't, that'd be the Least of her worries. she wakes up into a Real nightmare - partially of her (unintentional) making