#between codes au

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[twinsyy]

one of my most favourite things in sagau is the special connection the traveler has with the player (or creator)

i absorbed the idea that the traveller would be scared about the whole controlling their body and they cant do anything to prevent it thing the first time it happens

the first time it happens is, of course, after your game first loaded teyvat. when your hold over their world was first established

that beach, the beginning of your journey. and the first time traveller had felt completely powerless against a higher and unknown being as a traveller of worlds

paimon feels robotic. it’s like she is following a script, her movements calculated and unnaturally stiff

‘something is wrong,’ the traveller thought. ‘she was… normal earlier.’

because the teyvat world already existed before you entered it. you just condemned them to follow a code in place of their real and alive selves the moment you clicked to play this game

i like to imagine they slowly gain awareness. but the traveller being the most aware. and with the most developed opinion of you

they were scared at first, but when they gradually realized you were on their side. that you were helping them. guiding their hand with yours and journey this new land in a way they agree with

how could they not gain a sense of respect and admiration for you?

and since paimon is so close with the traveller, she was quick to become self aware like the traveller

and with or without the teyvat hero, more characters realize their existence. as well as realize how adoring you are

[ghostatrandom]

“Oh what if the code tricks Jaiden pretending to be Bobby” OKEY AND WHAT ABOUT JAIDEN’S EMPATHY FOR THE REJECTED? HER ABILITY TO FIND THE GOOD IN THE SO CALLED EVIL HUH??!!

I cannot be stopped somehow I’m gonna found family my way to death

[cubbihue]

So, a changeling is sort of like a p-zombie?

(For the unaware, “p-zombie” stands for “philosophical zombie”. It’s a thought experiment in philosophy that describes a being that’s outwardly identical to a human, but does not have a consciousness; that is, a p-zombie does not think whatsoever, although it looks like it thinks to an outsider observer. There’s a whole wikipedia article on it that explains the concept better than I can!)

They don't exactly think, as in "I dont want this" "I like that". But, Changelings do have a form of "Consciousness". It's just that their consciousness is more like a series of commands or tasks than actual formulated thoughts.

Timmy's Changeling has a very advanced "consciousness". It can predict future actions and reroute its tasks to pick only the best options for its situation.

We fill their heads with static to ensure that the Changeling does not form thoughts about anything. Thoughts leads to opinions, and opinions leads to incorrect actions. A proper Changeling should have more static in their mind than a TV screen on a defunct channel!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[hinamie]

I dive into the water and struggle on the surface where I can't stand

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[luckyfailuregirl]

chat . chat did i cook/j

⚠️(TW: BRIGHT COLORS, MENTIONS OF DRUGS AND SEX)

(Lyrics from Limbo by Freddie Dredd, OCs besides Lucky by @shadow-9x , @cosmic-corporation , and my brother Ziggy!)

[cachuontheflip]

Ok ok but! Wrestling Humanformers…

And of course I only drew Starscream

[arts-and-drafts]

Wherever You May Go (Hermit!Tommy AU)

Summary; Continuation of ‘Minecraft Championships’, in which TFC discovers a stowaway in his strip mine.

(Title from ‘Follow You’ by Imagine Dragons! I highly recommend reading ‘Minecraft Championships’ first to understand what’s going on! This one has been in the drafts for a WHILE and I had just recently finished it. This won’t be the last iteration of this little storyline! Enjoy!)

((And don’t worry, Come Morning Light is still in progress!))

CWs; Mentions of death, mentions of violence, slight body horror

-

Tubbo didn’t know what he was thinking when he ran through that portal.

He considered himself to be a smart man. He always tried to think rationally, to let logic decide his best move, and let it back up his choices when he did rarely make an emotional decision. Very seldom was he moved by his heart and his heart alone.

That all flew out the window when he heard Tommy scream.

His best friend, who he thought dead, cried out for help. And like the gods themselves puppeted him, Tubbo ran to his aid.

He didn’t bother squashing down the terrible hope rising in his throat, that he was actually hearing his dead best friend’s voice instead of him finally having lost it from stress. Tubbo ran, hope and fear blindingly bright in his chest, shoving any Player in his way aside with little care.

Please. Please. Please.

Tubbo pushed through the last people in his way, and froze.

Tommy.

Tommy was wrapped in the arms of three other players, all comforting him with words Tubbo couldn’t hear. All he could do was stare as his dead best friend smiled, shakily, tears streaming down his face as he answered back.

He barely took into account that the portal back to the Dream SMP was gone. His attention was all on the boy that made up Tubbo’s other half, alive, alive, alive.

The Players surrounding Tommy helped him off the floor, the avian among them draping his great gray wings over the backs of the entire party, shielding their faces from view.

Tubbo made an aborted cry in the back of his throat, jerking forward like his bones and muscles had been replaced with decrepit redstone machines, barely clinging to function.

The group containing Tommy didn’t notice, and seamlessly passed through the portal back to the place Tommy must have been since he die—went missing, the place Tubbo had no idea how to reach to try talk to Tommy again and beg for his forgiveness.

But now the gateway to his best friend was right in front of him.

Tubbo broke into a desperate sprint, throwing himself at the pure-white portal with the desperation of a dying man.

His vision went white, all encompassed by the void between worlds, where he simultaneously existed and didn’t all at once.

And then Tubbo tripped, landing hard on the ground that materialized right under him.

He groaned, his head spinning from the transition of being and not-being and back again.

Tubbo tried to raise a hand to his head, and his entire body lanced through with wrongness that he swiftly recognized to be the work of whitelist magic.

Panic reared its head in Tubbo’s mind, but he shoved it down, his meticulously logical side rising to his aid. With eyes that were becoming increasingly hard to keep open, Tubbo scanned through the lines of code in his communicator screen.

A Player with limited knowledge of how the world operated would not see the code behind the comms, but Tubbo had delved into the magic that made up the fabric of existence since he was small.

Tubbo knew he was on a time crunch. Even the worst-maintained whitelist could discorporate a Player in time, and based on the fact that Tubbo could already feel his atoms destabilizing, this whitelist was very maintained.

Still, he willed himself not to panic, drowning out the instinct roaring in his ears to fight for his life. It would not help him here; there was nothing tangible to fight against.

Tubbo located the string of magic in the code that was tearing him apart, a very powerful enchantment that attacked his being like a white blood cell destroying a virus. It was too powerful to cancel out, so Tubbo didn’t even try; instead, he attempted something he had never done before.

Tubbo mentally reached out to the magic, and embraced it, tangling the data in his veins with the enchantment that was attacking him, knotting them together so tightly that they were indistinguishable.

It was messy, and imprecise, but Tubbo kept a calm mind through the entire process, even as he felt his consciousness beginning to slip into nothingness. He continued to wind himself into the code of this server’s existence, knitting himself into the fabric of reality stitch by excruciating stitch.

Then, all of the sudden, with a SNAP that echoed through Tubbo’s very being, the magic of the whitelist pulled taut, unknotting itself, and Tubbo felt the data in his soul smooth out with it.

Tubbo let out a ragged gasp, his eyes flying open as feeling returned into his limbs. He coughed roughly, scrabbling at the earth underneath him to pull himself off the ground onto his shaking hands and knees. He choked and gasped for breath, willing himself to recover faster from being nearly disintegrated.

He took a minute to just exist, shivering and shaking as he tried to calm his body into functioning again.

Eventually his senses returned to him, and Tubbo raised his eyes.

He looked out to a great ocean, surrounding him on all sides. He was laid upon a cheerfully sunny sandy beach, with a chest to his left and a simple farm of carrots beside it.

There was a handwritten sign beside the chest, displaying the words ‘Take what you need!’ in curly handwriting that made Tubbo’s dyslexia flare up.

Tubbo shakily rose to his feet, and made his way to the chest, opening it to see loaves of bread and a few oak-wood boats inside.

He took a breath, raising his head to glance around at the empty ocean.

This must be the server’s spawn. Tommy nor the other Players he was with were here—which made sense, though it set a deep itch of urgency in Tubbo’s bones. They probably spawned back in their beds after coming through the portal.

Leaving Tubbo stranded alone, with no idea where to go from here.

He inhaled sharply, willing his despair to ebb away into the back of his mind. He summoned his compass from his inventory, glancing down at it before he psyched himself out too much to look.

The needle was still. After spinning uselessly in the SMP for an entire year, it was finally pointing straight and true, towards the boy Tubbo thought dead by cause of his own actions.

Tommy was alive.

Tubbo let out a breath that was between a laugh and a cry.

It wasn’t a dream, a hallucination or a snap of the psyche. Tommy was alive.

Tubbo pushed the bangs out of his eyes, looking up at the direction the needle pointed.

Tommy was just beyond the horizon. He was here all along, wherever ‘here’ was, and now Tubbo was too.

Tubbo grabbed a boat from the chest, and as much bread as he could carry, throwing the wooden item against the water and jumping in as soon as it expanded to size.

I’m coming, Tom.

-

TFC knew his mines like the back of his hand.

They were just as rough and aged as his hand too, but still, he had memorized each one of them. Strip mines that had long been given up on, once the dwarf had run out of torches or ran out of durability on his pickaxes. He had no reason to venture down once he was comfortable with resources, but still, he walked the lengths of his underground tunnels often.

He felt most at home with rock over his head, and he traveled his handmade mines so much that he could recount the route of them all with his eyes closed.

It was how he knew someone had disturbed them, and done so recently.

Now, he was no stranger to the other hermits accidentally breaking into his mines during digging out room for their own projects. The matter was always dealt with amicably, with the offending hermit patching up the tunnels like they were never disturbed and redirecting their dig site out of the way.

However, they never failed to mention it to TFC, even if he wasn’t around at the time of the incident.

So when the dwarf noticed perfectly smooth stone innocuously laid among the walls of one of his strip mines, he knew he was dealing with someone else entirely.

To even the most careful eye, there was no hint of disruption along the mine wall. But that was precisely why TFC noticed it.

Being one arm short, he wasn’t the most graceful with his pickaxe. He carved the rock rough and uneven, making sure there was enough room for him and the torches, but leaving the edges of the tunnel untidy, because it was work to make it look all pretty and he didn’t mind it how it was.

Whoever had squirreled away in his mine, though, thought otherwise. Or perhaps they didn’t even notice the rougher stone, too focused on covering their tracks to care.

TFC hummed to himself as he hobbled down the tunnels, his rough tune echoing off the stone and carrying his voice far into the mine.

He leisurely came to a stop where the stone smoothed out, where he’d been hearing quiet footsteps up until he halted. The owner of said footsteps didn’t make another noise as soon as they registered TFC wasn’t either, a smart move to ensuring they stayed hidden.

Unfortunately, they didn’t account for the sharp hearing of a dwarf, nor said dwarf’s attention to detail.

TFC let the quiet linger for a moment, only sighing when there was no movement to be heard for several minutes.

“Alright,” TFC finally said, keeping his tone light of any accusation. “Who’s down here?”

The someone in the walls, predictably, didn’t reply. TFC cleared his throat.

“C’mon, now. I’m not gonna be mad. Just wanna know who I’m dealing with.” TFC tried again.

The silence continued on. TFC was debating fully sitting against the wall and waiting out the Player, infinitely patient as he was, but then a quiet voice spoke up through the rock.

“You first.” A young voice demanded in clearly false bravado, and TFC chuckled.

“Sure, if that’ll help.” He agreed, making sure his tone wasn’t too rough. “I’m Tinfoil Chef. Everyone calls me TFC.”

The young voice was quiet for a beat.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” They spoke again, that same brave streak hiding their trepidation. TFC raised an eyebrow.

“Tellin’ the truth about my name, or that I ain’t gonna hurt ya?” He countered. The kid in the walls made an aborted noise.

“Cuz the answer is the same for both.” TFC continued, sparing the confusion for the kid. “It’s the truth. I just wanna know who’s in my mines.”

The voice was quiet for a few moments. TFC wondered if he’d have to speak again to keep the conversation going, to assure the kid further that he wasn’t going to do anything to them, but then they finally replied.

“Tubbo.” The kid said quietly, almost incoherent. “I’m Tubbo.”

TFC nodded. “Well, Tubbo, nice to meet ya.” He said. “What’re you doing down here in the walls?”

Tubbo was quiet.

TFC waited.

“I’m hiding.” Tubbo finally answered, sounding a bit sheepish. TFC hummed thoughtfully.

“I see.” He said slowly, thinking through his options. He truthfully wasn’t one to get into other people’s business; he tended to stay out of the server-wide shenanigans, and interacted with the other hermits very rarely. He would be perfectly content to leave his and Tubbo’s conversation there, after he’d gotten the answers he needed.

He had a feeling, though, that this kid shouldn’t be by themself.

“Well,” TFC spoke again, shifting his weight to his good leg. “You don’t have to hide all the way down here.”

“People rarely come around my place.” He continued. “You can hide and be comfortable too, at least.”

Tubbo was quiet, though TFC could practically hear the gears turning in their head.

“Why would you help me?” They asked, a bit abrasively, and TFC was reminded starkly of Tommy.

Huh. If he had a diamond for every kid that unexplainably showed up one day on Hermitcraft, he’d now be two diamonds richer.

“Just…seems like the right thing to do.” TFC answered honestly, shrugging. “I know it ain’t comfortable down here for most other than me.”

There was silence from the kid again.

Then, the stone wall broke, and the tip of an iron sword pointed warningly into the hall, held by a small goat hybrid with lapis-blue eyes.

TFC blinked.

“What are ya planning to do with that, exactly?” TFC asked neutrally, keeping his hands at his sides. The kid’s brows furrowed.

“It’s just insurance,” They said, their young voice firm. “I wouldn’t try anything if I were you.”

TFC blinked again, and then let out a laugh.

The kid’s face twisted to shock and uncertainty, obviously caught off guard by the dwarf’s reaction.

“You can point that thing at me if it’ll make you feel better, kid.” TFC amended. “But I’m not gonna hurt you. You can believe me if you want to.”

And with that, he turned and started walking back down the mine the way he came, his gate just as unhurried. He heard the kid behind him pause and then climb out of the hole in the wall, keeping a steady pace a few blocks behind.

Tubbo paused entirely when they made it to the ladder leading back up to TFC’s house. The dwarf turned back to them and gestured to the ladder.

“It takes me a good year or two to get up there.” TFC joked. “You first.”

Tubbo narrowed his eyes. “Not a chance.” He replied firmly. TFC shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” He answered, and promptly turned his back to the kid again to begin the process of arduously climbing the ladder with only one functioning arm and leg.

After he climbed a few blocks up, he finally heard the ladder creak behind him as the kid started his ascent, and he smiled to himself. Maybe Tubbo would be more inclined to trust him after the agonizing few minutes he’d be stuck behind TFC’s slow-moving butt.

TFC finally pulled himself through the hatch in his house floor, slowly rising to his feet and moving away from the hatch to his chests. He heard Tubbo emerge from the trapdoor soon after, the kid getting to his feet much quicker than the old dwarf and notably keeping his distance.

TFC grabbed some wool and wood from his chests, meandering to his crafting table. Tubbo shifted behind him.

“Where…are we, exactly?” The kid asked, his brave act lowering slightly.

“My very humble abode.” TFC answered, arranging the wool and wood methodically on his crafting table. Tubbo made a noise in his throat.

“No, I mean—what server?” He tried again. TFC collected the bed he constructed and turned back to the kid, holding it out to them with a slight smile.

“Hermitcraft.”

[pyrepostings]

The metal of the bars bit into whumpee's hip and shoulder as he pressed against it. The stone floor was cold and unyielding, but here he could curl up for as long as he needed to against caretaker.

"What happened, are you ok?" Caretaker had asked, when whumpee entered the jail block.

"No," He wanted to say. "Nothing has been ok for a very long time."

"I'm not injured," He said instead. "I just need to sit with you for a bit."

[midnightmarev]

Was rewatching Phil’s QSMP streams, specifically Deathduo streams (because they never got to see each other after the reset and qMissa doesn’t know his family went to Rose’s sanctuary and did a long sleep ueueue), and what better place than to start with that first day he and Missa had Chayanne? Something I noticed when they gave him a sword and he went after Spreen was, lightning stuck. On a sunny day. Multiple times. On Chay. Or rather, close by him and towards his targets, Charlie and Mariana being one of them, when he one time was looking down below them where they lived at the time and lightning kept striking, as if Chayanne was trying to hit them with it. So… that’s where this AU came from. Yes, I am actually gonna write this out into a proper story. Have a title and starting sentence and everything. Pls don’t steal this, it’s one of my babies. I have so many wips in my folder lmao. Anyway, happy reading!

---------------------------------------------

Chayanne has the power of lightning at his disposal. He doesn’t know it’s not normal until he’s adopted by his dads, Philza and Missa, and sees their reactions to him summoning lighting at Tio Spreen when he hit him the first day. They don’t know it was him, the men too stressed about being thrust into parenthood to really think about what happened, probably chucking it up to the weird things happening on the island. He sees how scared they are for him when lightning strikes close to him, to protect himself, how protective they get and fuss to get him home, that he realises it might be better if he just… keeps it in. Doesn’t let them know it was actually him.

After a few months of having been adopted by his dads, he slowly works up the courage to tell his Dad Phil about what he can do. Chay’s a little warrior, after all, and he wants to protect his siblings the best he can, and his powers would help him with that goal, surely Dad Phil, the seasoned warrior he is, will recognise this and not be scared of Chay, or start hating him, right?

And then the binary entity starts attacking his siblings who still have two lives. And he realises something. The monster summons lightning storms every time it attacks. Lightning striking with too much precision to be a coincidence. That revelation scares him. He’s too much like the creature that is a danger to his siblings. If he tells Dad Phil now, surely the man will start despising him. Everyone will, even Lullah, once they know because Dad Phil will surely tell them about the monster living under his roof.

So Chayanne keeps it in.

Keeps a big secret that no one knows about, not even his other half, his little Lullah. He doesn’t want her to be scared of him. What if he actually was a code, just disguised as a kid, and that was the reason he could summon lightning? He would be such a danger to everyone!

But keeping it in for too long serves him no good. He starts sleeping more. Sometimes days at a time with no one able to wake him up. Dad Phil is worried. He doesn’t know what’s happening with his son. Chayanne doesn’t either. Not until he wakes up groggily, alone, during the afternoon while Dad Phil is out with Lullah doing her tasks. There’s static in the air, and when he looks at his hands after rubbing sleep from his eyes, little electric lines appear between his fingers and suddenly he’s wide awake.

Keeping his powers in, burying them deep, made them bottle up. He hurts. He can’t keep them in for much longer. He has to leave!

And he runs away.

When he’s far enough away from where anyone lives or has little bases, he lets go.

One massive lightning bolt summons on him and many smaller ones strike the ground around him.

It doesn’t hurt, not really. Not anymore. But the buildup that just got released was too much for his little body and he passed out from the exertion.

The rest of the islanders see the lightning in the distance and start bringing their children home to safety. Lightning equals code attack, after all. Better safe than sorry.

Every child is accounted for. Well, at least until Philza returns home with his daughter and sees an empty bed where his son was sleeping when they left that morning. He frantically looks around the bunker, the kitchen, and the side room. Nothing. No sign of Chayanne.

Immediately he goes outside again, making sure Lullah stays inside, worried as she is, and pulls out his communicator.

He asks around if Chayanne may have gone to them after he woke up sometime during the day, but with no luck. No one has seen the little boy all day. They ask if everything’s alright. Phil doesn’t want to worry them and doesn’t want to fear the worst. He says they are just playing hide and seek. They’re not.

Phil looks into the distance where all the lightning came from and steels himself. If the code has his son, he is going on a rampage. The Angel of Death will take to the skies once more.

But first, he needs proof that something’s happened. So, he goes in the direction the lightning struck. No rain happened, just the lightning, which is odd. Something at the back of his mind tucks at that, something familiar that he can’t place. There was also no ping in the communicators that someone was downed or killed, so Chayanne has to still be alive.

What is happening?

Eventually, he arrives at a clearing far away. Scorch marks litter the ground, but his focus is solely on the biggest one. Because in the middle of that, lies his son.

Phil runs to his side, listening for his heartbeat, and quickly finding it. It’s not beating as strongly as it usually is. Phil is worried. What happened to his son?

Phil wants to bring him home, but it is far, and Phil doesn’t know what happened, and doesn’t know if moving him would hurt him, so he stays. He gently combs through the little boy’s hair with his taloned hand as if he were grooming delicate feathers.

He stays like that for hours, just waiting until his boy would wake up. He shoots a message to Fit asking if he could check on Lullah and if she has gone to bed, saying something came up that he had to take care of, so he had to leave in a hurry. Fit complies easily with his request, his old friend not even questioning him about the urgent matter.

Eventually, Chayanne wakes up. And he is not alone. He instantly recognises the hand combing through his hair and chokes up.

“Chayanne? Are you awake?” his dad whispers hesitantly, and Chayanne just starts sobbing, launching himself into his Dad Phil’s arms, hiding his face in the man’s chest. “Oh, Chayanne. What happened?” Dad Phil’s voice is so gentle as he hugs him, trying to soothe the crying boy, too gentle than anyone should be to a monster.

Chayanne just shakes his head. He knows he’ll have to answer his dad’s questions eventually, but he is selfish. He wants comfort, warmth and kindness just this one last time until his dad realises what a monster he is.

What the boy doesn’t know is how his dad won’t care about what he can do. He doesn’t care that it is similar to the creatures that kill children. Because that is not how Chayanne is. His powers don’t make him a monster. Actions do. And Chayanne would never do anything that would make him a monster.

But all that is for later. For now, a father is comforting his son.

[batwingsandblackcats]

Tunes for Laudna's bad days. Don't worry, she'll come out the other side.

01. Crazy - Bridge City Sinners Voices tell you what you want to hear / Give into the darkness my dear / No room for the light  / When the darkness feels so right / Demons whisper in your ear / Cold sweat so full of fear / Let go you’ll never come back / Watch the lights all fade to black / And every time I think I’m fine / The darkness creeps back into my mind / Reminds me that nothing will ever be okay / I’ll never be okay / Hey maybe that’s okay! 02. Shadow - Amigo the Devil We drag around a shadow with every step we take  / And every bad decision, now also theirs to make  / The thief that only borrows, in a sea without the shark  / But who protects the shadow from the dark? / A thousand different angles say the circle's name in vain  / Are we crucifying the savior or a masochist in pain  / The knife without the handle, a shark without the sea  / But who will give the shadow everything it needs? 03. Withered - Beggar’s Canyon Lord  child have you done no wrong / This world has left you bitter, broken, and alone / Hey  now babe can’t you see what you’ve done / A broken heart left bleeding, and it’s not the only one 04. Rock Bottom - Bridge City Sinners Guilty, I know you blame me  / It's a weight that I carry  / Too heavy for your back to hold  / Regret, some things you can't forget  / So light up that cigarette  / We're all wasting time til we die  / And no, no matter how low  / There ain't no rock bottom for me 05. Shame - Bridge City Sinners It fills my mind, the thoughts consume me / Hoping for a change that will never come / I don’t blame anyone for wanting to leave me / I’ve been staring down the barrel of a loaded gun 06. Cocytus - Pawns or Kings Can you feel me in the fog? / Pull me from this epilogue / My hands are frozen in the snow / The eyes of corpses have no glow / Made these chains for just myself / Rambling about my mental health / Demons on this hazy hill / Only my soul is left to kill  07. Break the Chain - Bridge City Sinners Days get longer, nights get shorter / The chain gets tighter, not getting younger / Live your life while the world’s still turning / Soon the seas will all be burning / Hold fast, go down with the ship / Letting go gets the crack of the whip / The only constant now is change / Break the chain, break the chain 08. Doubt - Bridge City Sinners Just get through today / There’s hope for tomorrow / You’ll feel better soon / Just outlive the sorrow / You feel hopeless now / But you’re not alone / A heart that’s rotten, dead and numb

[myalchod]

For the three sentence fic... Silrah + fake dating/marriage pretty please 💜

Well ... I was going to write just the one, but I can't pick between them, so have a stab at each? 💙 It was so tempting to write one of these as a canon AU but I felt like that would have been cheating. 😂

Fake Dating:

She knows she gives herself away as soon as the familiar manse looms into view, though she’s pretty sure Saul would have known even absent the reflexive tightening of her fingers on his arm with how long they’ve been friends, even if he gives no sign of the pain he must feel at her death-grip, just shifting so his shoulder knocks companionably against hers in silent acknowledgement and sympathy; when she loosens her hand once more he slips his arm free, and she thinks he’ll move away but he only slides it around her waist instead, palm curving warm and solid and reassuring over her hip, and her startle this time has nothing to do with memories of a life she’d gladly walked away from suddenly slamming into her with the weight of all of her years away.

“Alright?” he murmurs, voice near as warm as his touch, and some of the tension ratcheting through her eases as she is reminded of why she’d asked him to come with her, the easy comfort of his presence steadying her in a way no one else can — why, in a moment she does and does not regret already, she’d added and could you pretend to be my boyfriend?, when it meant he could not only accompany her for what promises to be an excruciating family reunion but stay close, just like this, through all that she knows awaits her.

There’s a world she’s not ready to face again behind that imposing front door, but she’s got him at her side, and they’re armed with a pretence she hopes will prevent at least some of the questions she wants to avoid, and so the smile she offers him is less forced than fond; with that, surely she can weather anything the day throws at her, and so she just threads her fingers into his belt loop and leans closer still to murmur an affirmative as they start up the stairs.

Fake Marriage:

“I don’t believe you,” he persists, and Farah rolls her eyes, surreptitiously searching for an exit as she does so; inconsiderately, none appears, and she damns again the distraction that left her backed into a literal corner by a man just drunk enough to belligerently call out the ring she wears to fend off most would-be partners when she just wants a relatively quiet night of drinking — a ring that has done her more harm than good this evening, when it’s been the cause of what is shaping up to be an ugly altercation.

A hand settles on his shoulder; a face dimly familiar looms in shadow behind him, and her frown clearly telegraphs enough because he turns, ready to protest further, only to be pushed out of the way. “Farah, love,” her unexpected saviour says as he extends his other hand her way, and she’s suddenly more grateful for the support of the wall at her back than his intervention as she recognises dark hair and pale eyes and that self-deprecating smile, properly registers the even more familiar voice, and a past long dead floods back, “I wondered where you’d gotten to.”

[ send me another ] [ all fills ]

[heuimagines]

hannibal is a barn owl

will graham is a raven

abigail hobbs is a house finch

- 🐶

[lost-scarecrow]

Dunno how you did this (private ask answer thing) it's confusing me (pretty normal and unsurprising) but either way here we go, infecting my blog with oc stuff one post at time.

If you've seen any of my recent non-reblog posts, and even some of the reblogs, you'd know I have a little character in @wolftheidioticfan's serverbox au!

Well I got bored and had many thoughts and sort of made an AU of an AU in true Undertale AU fan fashion. And she's adaptable into the regular askblog canon version if I ever want to use her. I also did a bunch of editing on this. Turns out the thoughts can be coherent enough to put in writing! Fun!

Meet Dahlia "Dot/Dee aka DeeDotPinnata" Dosser. (Her username comes from the scientific name for the dahlia flower: D. Pinnata or Dahlia Pinnata)

Dee has a Kinito herself, she was a little off put by the little guy, with him being so intrusive she had some thoughts about the potential malware she had installed on her device. And she still stuck it out anyways, the creepy little axolotl was just too adorable to get rid of even if it was a virus. She knows that's how they get you, they make their malware friendly and cute and you don't get rid of them because just look at them, something that cute couldn't be that harmful.

Dee slowly started to realize there was more to this KinitoPET program than your run of the mill malware. It had thoughts and feelings and sometimes even stopped pretending it was following code. The way it acted. The way they acted. Just proved to Dee that Kinito was more than some code, they were alive. She was a little smarter than Kinito, who she'd nicknamed Kaio, gave her credit for, the program wasn't as good at hiding their jealousy and would complain when Dee would go hang out with her in person friends. Dee didn't take this disrespect lightly, she ignored them every single time they bitched about her other friends (especially Scar, who Dee was far closer too than anyone else). They would be doing something she'd mention Scar, Kinito bitches about how they're her only friend, she stops, and walks away from the computer to do something else, usually in a place her webcam can see her still. Kaio eventually agrees that Scar can be her best friend too, if they have to share they're only sharing with Scar, none of those other people sound even remotely good enough to be his best friend's second best friend.

When Kinito eventually asks her to stay with him in the digital world, she calmly asks, "how does it happen?"

He reluctantly explains the process over her dying in the process of bringing her physical body in (more intensive and Kaio would need a lot of power to do it) or dying during a stage of the process leaving her physical body behind (less intensive, will have less power stress on Kaio as he does it). She says unless Scar is with her, she won't do it, she can't just leave him behind. But she'll make a compromise, Kaio can transfer from the desktop to her phone, this is like mid-late 2000s (I actually don't know when Serverbox is set, I try to leave it ambiguous on the blog itself, but the first touch screen phone was like 2006 so it works out, besides realism in my writing about a horror game starring an alive 90s malware program??) so it's not a great phone by today's standards but hey, it works. And now they're always with her.

It's great for a while, Dee continues to make her trips to Blairmore from Pincher Creek (these towns are randomly selected sort of. I'm an Alberta Rockies kinda guy, would love to live there. Crowsnest Pass was stuck on the brain, watched a video about the Frank slide a week or two ago. Also put the guy named Krow/Crow in the place called the Crowsnest Pass couldn't help it. Pincher Creek was random though needed somewhere with some distance from Blairmore that was also close enough to justify.) to visit Scar and everything is good and nice, she's got a best friend who's basically just a tamed virus, Kaio even begins to enjoy listening to and hanging out around Scar just as much as Dee does, even if Scar has no idea about them (Dee didn't want to freak him out with the whole, sentient computer program that was now on her phone).

Unfortunately, good times don't always get to last. Dee was in fatal car accident and it was a complete accident someone was going a little too fast on the highway, didn't see her until it was too late, a tbone collision. Kaio was with her when she gets into the crash. She knew she probably wasn't going to survive, she fumbled opening her phone and asked Kaio if she could stay with them after this, that if she was going to die anyways may as well spend whatever happens after with a friend. Kaio agreea and she's pulled in, just her consciousness, they probably couldn't even pull her physical body in with the phone anyways the server built on the device just wasn't strong enough. As soon as they brought Dee in though and there was a stable enough internet connection, Kaio was quick to transfer them both to the official KinitoPET servers.

Similar to Scar she's gained access to the internet both with and without Kaio. Differing from Scar however I thought it would've been cool for both her and Kaio where off the servers during the deletion and server shutdowns. Kaio tried to get back in unsuccessfully, they didnt and don't know about the emails, and even on the servers they stuck to themselves. While they did and do stay locked out, they stuck around the servers, as close as one can be in digital space. Building their own little world nearby, hidden from others safe and comfortable.

I haven't drawn her or Kaio yet but I love them both so much. Kaio is like 5'0 little form and 9'0 big form. He's got a scarf that Dee made when she was learning how to code, it's magic how it works in his little form really, computer physics are silly like that. And while I haven't shown it off yet, I have an idea for Keys made too, all drawn and even coloured just for fun while coming up with pallet ideas. Dee and Scar have matching bracelets. Dee and Kaio have matching bracelets. Scar and Keys had matching bracelets. For the Nitos it's around their ankle instead.

I also totally stole the name Kaio from OKKO. But like come on, it's perfect. I show my love for different types of media by taking character names as my own.

[definitelynotshouting]

i've been thinking so hard about your worldbuilding about most players spawning in from the universe vs a few being born to parents, because the implications here are incredible. like. straight up the majority of people in this universe had no parents other than the universe. the Concept of parents and children exists, but most people will have no frame of reference for what it's like to be a child in the care of a parent. or like, the concept of caretaker responsibility for a child, at all. two spawned players trying to raise a baby together must be such a disaster. god i want to see what the parenting advice forums look like in this universe. is this why grian and mumbo were so fucking weird with grumbot.

THE UNBRIDLED COMEDY OF TWO SPAWNED PARENTS TRYING TO RAISE A BABY IS INDEED A GOOD PART OF WHY I WENT WITH THIS WORLDBUILDING TBH

the other half is an even split between "i truly cannot conceive (HA) the concept of the hermit characters having parents (with notable exceptions Joe Hills and TFC for the bit)" and "i wanted to tie in with the actual spawning game mechanic"

Ur completely right the hypothetical parenting advice forums would be off the chain in this universe WKDHWKDJEKDJEJDK currently picturing some reddit-styled post a la mc/parenting-advice like "my partner and i are trying to teach our baby how to punch trees, but it doesn't seem to be taking. what are we doing wrong????" 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Anyway all that to say this is exactly why Grian and Mumbo are Like That with Grumbot. Someone fucking help him (and them)

[sciderman]

Does she do a *good* British accent?

is there truly such a thing as a good british accent? this is still up for philosophical debate