#but I figured I should mention it in the tags

[midnightbears]

✿ duskbound, afterlight.

#STARRING: cybertronian femme reader & other characters.

#TAGS: fighting. lots of fighting. wounds. mentions of pain. flashbacks. 'alluding' to prostitution.

#NOTES: i actually feel so weird for this chapter because not much happens (in a sense), but i can't stress enough how much i want you to feel the mc as an actual character instead of this just being a romance story, and i'm establishing this not only for you but also for myself! you will need to read the mc's character arcs and individual chapters, even if they're long or you might think are unnecessary. if you don't read them, you're going to miss out on crucial points of the story! character arcs for your mcs are essential! even when they're just y/n! y/n is still a character, and they need a good backstory and moments to flesh them out thoroughly. fanfiction should be made with as much love and care as a 'real' book would need to be. with my usual rant issued, enjoy <3

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

You remembered setting down the tiny bundle of belongings you carried, the meager possessions you owned neatly placed on the edge of your new berth, and your new pickaxe and hammer drill. You were still deciding where to put your things when the voice of who would be your new berthroom companion caught you off guard, breaking the silence like a sudden gust of wind.

“You can come out, my love. All is well.”

You had quizzingly looked at her after the words left her mouth, but you grew even more confused when you realized she was not looking your way. Instead, she was looking at the small locker at the end of her berth.

There was a hesitant creak, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room. A small servo gripped the edge of the locker’s door, trembling slightly, and then a tiny figure peeked out—a sparkling, her frame barely more than a fragile outline against the dim light. She was almost painfully small, her light turquoise plating catching the faint glow in the room. 

“Come here, my light,” Starlight called out gently, extending a servo in a welcoming gesture as she sat at the edge of her berth.

The sparkling hesitated, her optics flicking nervously between you and her carrier. Her whole frame trembled with uncertainty.

You tried to make yourself look smaller, less imposing, feeling your spark crumple and crush with sympathy and curiosity at the existence of such innocence in this hellhole. So many questions and doubts ran through your processor at a speed that even the most talented racers would be jealous of.

Then, with a deep vent that sounded almost like a sigh, the sparkling took a cautious step toward her carrier. And another. And another. Until she was close enough to be scooped up into her arms.

“There you are,” She said with a tender smile, gathering the sparkling to her chest as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. The little one buried her face against her mother's chassis, and you could hear the faint whirr of her tiny cooling fans as she snuggled close, seeking comfort in the familiar embrace. Her servo moved slowly up and down the sparkling’s back. “I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetie. You’re very brave, are you not?”

Suddenly, she looked at you.

“I’m glad they sent another femme, I wasn’t about to take chances with someone who wouldn’t understand what it’s like.” She said. Although her voice was steady and unembellished, an undercurrent of intensity ran through it—tender and fiercely protective, issuing a warning. You could sense that this caution wasn’t aimed at you, but rather at some shadowy threat that lingered just beyond reach. “If they’d sent a mech, I would have thrown him out myself.”

You blinked, taken aback by her straightforwardness. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your expression open and unthreatening. Your voice was a little hesitant, unsure of how to respond to her. “I... I’m glad I’m here too.”

“Good,” she said, a half smile on her lip components, her gaze not wavering. “Then we’ll get along just fine. I’m Starlight, this is Vaportrail... she’s my everything. And I won’t let anything—or anyone—hurt her.”

Her tone now had no softness, only a hard-edged determination that made your spark tighten. This wasn’t a carrier who would let her guard down easily, not for anyone, and certainly not for someone she didn’t trust. But there was a flicker of relief in her optics, a softening around the edges as if admitting that your presence didn’t feel like a threat was a victory all on its own.

Which, in a way, made you very sad.

You opened your dermas, unsure of what to say, but Starlight cut you off with a small smile, her laughing, purple optics seizing you. “Don’t take it personally. I’m just... careful. They don’t make it easy for femmes like us. Especially not for carriers. I’m not about to apologize for doing what I must to keep her safe.”

You nodded quickly. “I—I understand. I don’t want to intrude. I just... I didn’t realize you had a little one here.”

“No, it’s fine,” Starlight said, waving a servo dismissively but not loosening her hold on Vaportrail. “You’re here now, and that’s that. They didn’t exactly ask my opinion before sending you, but... you seem alright.” Her optics scanned you up and down like she was weighing you, judging if you were genuinely trustworthy. Whatever she saw, it made her relax a fraction. “We’ll see how it goes.”

There was a silence that felt heavier than it should, and Vaportrail shifted a little, peeking out from the safety of her carrier’s hold. Her optics were still wide and oscillating, but there was a flicker now, like the spark of a tinderbox, and you managed a tentative smile. It felt awkward and unsure, but it seemed the right move because Vaportrail didn’t look away.

Starlight’s expression softened again, just a little, as she glanced down at her daughter. She leaned in and murmured, “This is…” She looked back up at you precipitously, “Sorry, what’s your name?”

You told her your new designation, the new number of the H branch in Mining Outpost R–02. You’d need to get used to it, but it would be easy enough. The overseer of your branch had already taken to refer to you as simply ‘8’.

Starlight almost grimaced at your words but soon looked down at the sparkling. “This is H-08. She’s going to stay with us for a while.”

The sparkling didn’t respond, but she didn’t hide either, and you took that as a small victory.

Starlight turned her optics towards you, revealing the complexities within her gaze—gentleness intertwined with determination, a fierce sense of protection that nearly felt rebellious. Above all, you noticed a tentative hope. It was delicate, nearly fragile, resembling something seldom relied upon and sustained by pure resolve. It felt like she was challenging you, silently urging you to either validate her doubts or, maybe, to offer her a reason to believe.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” she said with a half-smirk. “But don’t go thinking you’re a guest. You’re part of this now. And if you’ll be here, you’ll do your part to keep her safe, too.”

You nodded, meeting her gaze with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll do my best.”

You didn’t expect to follow Bluey’s advice that well.

Although you still felt anxious, there was one important lesson he ensured you understood, which was the primary reason you were managing to perform mediocrely well in the current match. Five simple words, but ones he made sure to drill into you, even at the cost of hearing him utter the sentence in your dreams.

“Always keep your head cool.”

The arena bore the scars of your prolonged clash—scorched craters, gouges in the walls, and the acrid tang of overheated metal. Across the battered expanse, your opponent circled behind a wall of waste metal. He was tall and bulky, his frame a juggernaut that had already tested your limits more than once. 

A younger you might have faltered by now, let exhaustion or his relentless power shake your resolve. But this wasn’t then. You adjusted your stance, steadying your frame and keeping Bluey’s advice sharp in your processor. This wasn’t over yet.

“Let them think they’ve got the upper hand, then take it from them in one clean swoop.”

Your opponent grinned, baring sharp teeth, his optics gleaming with something dark and eager. He lunged toward you, hurling a heavy swing of his greatsword, too fast and keen for a clean kill.

Good. You could work with that.

You ducked low, slipping just out of reach. He lunged forward, his momentum betraying him as he faltered, thrown off balance for a fleeting moment. The crowd's uproar filled the air, their cheers rising in a mighty wave, drowning out all other sounds. Bright flashes of light erupted around you, glinting off your polished armor and that of your opponent, creating a dazzling display that danced in the periphery of your vision.

“Most mechs here don’t think before they swing. Let them come to you. Half the fight is watching them trip over themselves. They’ll do half the work if you let them.”

You let him close in again, his optics narrowing as he swung, aiming for your helm this time. A broad swing of his arm—you had seen it a dozen times in practice with Bluey by now. You sidestepped and his fist cut through space, too slow to catch you. The warhammer in your grasp seemed to flow into your movements, and you did not even feel its heaviness.

He cursed, stumbling again, his frustration evident as he recovered, his vents heaving. Bluey was right; your opponent wasn’t thinking, only reacting. And now, with him unbalanced, it was time to make your move.

"Think quick, strike quicker. You don’t need to go for a kill shot in friendly matches. Just hit them where it hurts.”

So you did. Darting forward, you aimed low with your weapon, catching him squarely in the side with a swift, well-placed jab to his knee joint. The impact reverberated through your frame, his armor giving way just enough for you to feel the shock of metal against metal. He staggered, his vents hissing in pain, and you took advantage of his faltering balance, pressing forward with another strike to his leg.

His frame buckled, his weight crashing to one knee as he tried and failed to push himself back up. His optics flared with rage as he swiped at you again, desperation taking over, but you were already out of reach, watching his movements with a clear, unclouded gaze.

"A calm mind’s your greatest weapon. Most fights end the second your opponent loses his cool. Hold onto yours, and you’ll outlast them every time.”

You watched as your opponent struggled, rage overtaking his features as he realized his momentum had failed him. He staggered back, clutching his damaged leg, his optics wild, searching for some way to turn the tide. But you were already moving, closing in before he could react. A quick swipe to his shoulder joint sent him stumbling back again, a desperate growl tearing from his vocalizer as his arm dropped, sparking where the wiring had split.

The crowd’s roars escalated, but for once, the noise didn’t faze you. You kept your focus on him, your field of vision narrowing down to this one mech and his dwindling options.

“A hit’s only as strong as the bot that lands it. Don’t go for flashy moves if a simple strike will do the job.”

So you didn’t. You kept it simple and calculated, landing a swift, final blow to his remaining arm joint. His frame shuddered, forced down by the impact as he slumped forward, defeated but still functional, vents whirring unevenly as he struggled to catch his breath.

You took a step back, exhaling as you held your stance, ready to react to any last-ditch effort he might make. But there was nothing—no fight left in him, just the slow, begrudging slump of a mech who knew he’d been bested.

Another one. You’d done it! Shifting your helm toward the other side of the arena, you glimpsed the opening that connected the arena to the Gladiators’ lobby, and you swore that behind the bars, you could see a pair of familiar ochre-pigmented optics looking at you.

Bluey was there too, flashing a cheerful, childish thumbs-up as a wide grin spread across his face. He mimicked a series of playful punches aimed at the air, then broke into applause, cheering you on with boundless enthusiasm. You did not mind it. It actually made you smile.

Just as you turned toward the exit, you were so close to doing so as you began taking the first step; a pair of guards came to haul the mech onto a stretcher, and one of them harshly gripped your shoulder, evoking a grunt from your voicebox.

“You’re not done.”

You wrenched yourself free from his hold but stared at him confusedly, “We were the last ones on the list for today.”

“Not anymore.” The other answered for his partner, staring intensely at you despite his visor. “There’s been a last-minute change for your matches.”

‘Bullway.’ You looked away with irritation in your features (never directed at them), which was answer enough for the pair of guards. They began carrying the wounded gladiator away, fighting the urge to stifle their laughs while the mech deliriously quaked about his pain.

With a languid motion, you allowed your shoulders to roll back, reclaiming your position at the heart of the arena. To entertain the multitude of cybertronians around you, you threw your arms wide above your helm, sending a ripple of exhilaration through the crowd, igniting a cacophony of cheers and shouts.

You gazed at them in mild, calculated satisfaction. In some manner, the audience determined the level of excitement in the fight, and you felt a sense of relief knowing it would be exceptionally some time before you started boring them, even if you felt disgusted by their entertainment.

Suddenly, the other gate opened.

He emerged from the shadows. You’d seen him before, though only in passing. You hadn’t paid much attention to him then; now, it was impossible to look away.

His frame was massive, and his armor was scarred from dozens of battles. The faint glow of his optics burned like embers, and the sharpness of his gaze cut through the haze of dust and noise that filled the arena. His steps were heavy and measured, the kind of stride that wasn’t rushed because it didn’t need to be.

He stopped in the center of the pit, his helm tilting slightly as his optics locked onto you.

“So,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, carrying easily over the noise. “This is what they’ve got for me today?”

You tightened your grip on your warhammer, your digits aching. He was assessing you. You could feel it—a predatory gaze that lingered just long enough for you to start overthinking. Still, you said nothing. Words were a distraction. Both Bluey and Megatronus made points about that.

He seemed to take your silence as an insult. His mouth pulled into a sharp grin that didn’t reach his optics.

“They’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel now, aren’t they?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, each word sharp as a dagger. “Sending me, Celsius, some nobody.”

Your helmet shifted slightly, and the question slipped from your dermas before you could rein in your need to make him angry. “Who?”

In an instant, the atmosphere around him transformed dramatically, thickening with an almost electric tension. It surged through him, coiling like a tightly wound spring just moments before it snapped, tight and expectant. The playful mockery that had once danced mischievously in his optics was snuffed out, leaving behind an unsettling void. In its place, a chilling darkness crept in, settling heavily over his features, distorting the lines of his face.

“‘Who?’” he repeated, his voice dropping to a growl. “You don’t know who I am?”

You stared at him, unflinching. “No.”

The crowd caught wind of the exchange, and a wave of laughter rippled through the stands. His frame stiffened, his optics narrowing as the noise grew louder.

“You’re funny,” he said, though his tone suggested he didn’t find it amusing. “That’s good. Keep that up—it’ll make this more entertaining.”

Without warning, he lunged.

For a mech his size, he moved with startling speed, closing the distance between you in a handful of strides. His fist came down like a hammer, a strike meant to pulverize. You twisted away just in time, his blow slamming into the ground with a force that sent tremors up through your stabilizers.

You darted back, your hammer raised defensively as you sized him up.

He was fast, yes, but his movements were heavy, over-committed. He fought like someone who had never needed to think about his strength—who had always relied on brute force to overpower his opponents.

“Stay still!” he barked, his voice sharp with irritation as he swung again, the arc of his arm slicing through the air.

You ducked, letting his momentum carry him past you.

“You’re wasting energy,” you said, the words slipping out before you could think better of it.

His growl was low and guttural, and when he turned back to you, his optics blazed with rage.

“You’ve got a smart mouth, I heard,” he said, his vents heaving. “Let’s see how smart it is when I’m done with you.”

He lunged at you once more, his movements becoming increasingly wild and unrestrained, each swing of his fists wide and erratic. You sidestepped, remembering the footwork Bluey had practically made you memorize. Your opponent wasn’t relying on his tactical knowledge; instead, he was fueled by a burning sense of pride. That pride, however, was proving to be his greatest weakness, as it blinded him to the precision and finesse with which you fought.

“Who trained you?” he sneered, his words cutting through the air like shrapnel. “Or did they just toss you in here to die?”

You didn’t answer. There was no point. Instead, you waited, watching for the next opening.

It came sooner than you expected.

He swung wide again, his arm sweeping out in a broad arc that left his side exposed. You stepped in, driving your hammer into the joint of his leg. The impact sent a jolt up your arms, and his armor buckled under the force. He staggered, a snarl tearing from his vocalizer as he struggled to stay upright.

“You’ll regret that,” he spat, his optics wild with fury.

Once again, you didn’t respond. You didn’t need to.

He lunged again, his movements growing sloppier with each passing moment. His rage was blinding him, clouding his judgment. He was making mistakes, and you were ready to exploit them.

You darted around him, landing a blow on his shoulder joint. He cursed, the sound raw and guttural, as his arm dropped, sparking at the connection. His frame trembled with the effort of staying upright, his vents rattling like loose machinery.

“Fight me!” he roared, his voice cracking in frustration. “Stop running and fight me!”

You held your ground, your optics steady as you watched him. “I don’t need to fight you,” you said, your tone calm, almost detached. “You’re beating yourself.”

The words struck him like a physical blow. He froze, his optics wide with disbelief, before the rage returned in full force. He charged blindly, his movements a chaotic blur of desperation and fury.

You stepped aside, his momentum carrying him past you. Then, with one final swing, you brought your hammer down on his remaining shoulder joint.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground, his frame buckling under the weight of his arrogance. He lay there, his vents sputtering, his optics dimming as he struggled to lift himself.

You stood over him, your stance steady, your frame casting a shadow over his.

He looked up at you, his optics burning with hatred and humiliation.

“Who,” you said, your voice low, broken by your tired breaths between syllables, “are you supposed to be again?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, like a thunderclap, the crowd erupted. Their cheers and jeers mingled in a cacophony that reverberated through the arena walls, their voices rising in a frenzy. Some shouted your name; others hurled insults at the fallen gladiator. The noise was deafening, but you let it wash over you, standing tall as their energy rippled through the air.

Their way of letting you know: That was an excellent match.

You allowed yourself a glance upward toward the tiered stands. The Overseers’ box loomed above, a dark shape crowded with figures seated in detached luxury. A few of them nodded, the faintest inclinations of approval that barely registered against the clinking of energon cubes and muted laughter from their table.

Most weren’t even watching.

Your optics narrowed as you saw what held their attention. A courier had delivered a tower of tiny energon cubes to their table. One of the bosses reached out, plucking a cube from the precariously stacked pile with the same carelessness as a mech selecting a datapad. Another laughed as the tower wobbled but held its balance.

Your spark twisted violently in your chest.

They weren’t watching. After all the effort, after the pain and adrenaline, the gamble of your life against another’s... you weren’t even worth their attention.

A tower of energon cubes was upstaging you.

A surge of fury swelled in your core, hot and all-consuming. You acted before you could think, your frame moving on instinct alone. With a sharp pull, you wrenched a shoulder plate free from your defeated opponent’s armor, the battered piece of metal groaning as it came loose in your servo.

Then, you hurled the plating across the arena. It sliced through the air, the momentum carrying it in a deadly arc straight toward the Overseers’ box.

The piece struck the energon tower dead-center.

The cubes tumbled spectacularly, scattering across their table and clattering to the floor. Shouts of alarm erupted as some of the bosses scrambled back, some leaping from their seats as the impact sent their delicate drinks and datapads spilling across their laps.

The crowd gasped, the collective intake of air almost louder than their earlier cheers. A shocked silence fell over the pit, stretching taut and electric as every optic turned to you.

For a moment, you simply stood there, your plating heaving as the heat of your anger coursed through you. Then, you inclined the upper part of your frame—just a fraction, the gesture somewhere between mockery and defiance. Your optics locked onto the Overseers as if daring them to look away again.

When you finally turned, you saw that the arena gates had opened at some point, the path to the exit yawning before you. You walked toward it without hesitation, without awaiting dismissal, your pedsteps echoing in the stunned silence that followed you.

Behind you, the crowd erupted louder than before, their voices carrying an amalgamation of shock, awe, and delight. They weren’t just watching now—they were riveted.

An excellent match, indeed.

But as you crossed the threshold into the dim corridors beyond the pit, the noise faded into the distance, and you could feel the weight of the Overseers’ glares pressing against your back. For the first time, you were sure they were paying attention.

Good. Let them.

[angelpuns]

“ Raph pleasssseee carry me?” Mikey whined, practically throwing himself onto Raph's shell. 

And who was Raph to deny his babyest brother? 

“ alright, but you're gonna have to carry me, later,” He chuckled, mostly teasing, “ Raph knows you can carry him easy” 

Mikey rolled his eyes and climbed further atop Raph's shell, being mindful of the chunk missing. He said it didn’t hurt anymore, but Mikey still avoided touching it if he could. 

“ You don't normally whine this much, Angelo, what happened to your ‘razzmatazz energy reserve’?” Donnie muttered, hovering a bit ahead of them. Eyes still glued to Leo's little blue dot. It was moving rapidly across the city st this point, and they were following it. 

Donnie wasn't sure how or why Leo was moving so quickly, but he was sure his twin had some kind of hare-brained plan he was cooking up. Sure, chasing him down was almost definitely playing into it, but Donnie just wanted to be sure. 

Maybe the amnesia spell had erased his ability to make good plans or something, they didn't have much data that proved otherwise.

“ Wellll, Leo usually portals us everywhere aaaaand I guess I got kinda used to it,” Mikey chuckled sheepishly, “plus I gotta save up that razzmatazz reserve for lovingly kicking his butt when we catch up!” 

“Uh-huh, right. The plan is simple, when we catch up you and Raph will immobilize Leo long enough for me to tranq him, then we’ll get him back to the lair and figure out a better long-term solution,” Donnie rambled, squinting at the dot. He was moving in such an irregular pattern, and far faster than Leo could normally move. 

Then again, he was the fastest out of all of them, and he could be portal-hopping across the city still. 

They were hardly close to catching up, though. Even with Donnie's hover-shell, he couldn't get close fast enough. Not to mention he couldn't carry both Mikey and Raph as backup. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and then resuming his staring at the dot. Until it suddenly turned and was heading straight for them. 

“ He's coming this way and quickly! Get ready to grab him,” Donnie warned, hurrying to ready his final tranquilizer dart and hide himself behind a trash can. Not the best hiding spot or best view of the street, but better than nothing. 

He watched as the dot blinked closer and closer, turning onto the street they were hiding on. Raph and Mikey were ready, weapons drawn, to capture Leo just long enough for Donnie to tranq him. It was all going to plan! 

Their amnesiac brother was toast! 

Leo’s dot rounded the corner, and- 

Donnie aimed at the spot where Leo's shoulder would be, but instead there was nothing. The dot was right in front of him and yet- 

Donnie lowered his gun and grimaced. In Leo's place was a rat, the tracker tied loosely around it's neck. A tag hung there too, and when Donnie grabbed the rat to read it, all he could feel was a white hot rage. 

‘ Gotcha XP Better luck next time!’ 

----

Damn they got splinter'd :/

Donnie should have known that Leo would do smthn that ridiculous but cut him some slack, his goofy twin is on the loose :/

Anyway enjoy <3 this one isn't v good but eh

Part 1 | Part 6 | Part 8

[ssreeder]

Sreedy!!!!! I finally caught up!!! Now, I need to figure out what to do in the meantime. Do you have any fanfic recs (or anyone else who may end up seeing this)? I'm in the Atla (Zukka), Voltron(Klance), Good Omens, One Piece(Zosan), Marauders(Jegulus), and MHA Fandom (so far). But I think I'm open to reading about anything. I'm not really into one shots, so I'm more of a anything over 50k word count. Thank you, and I also still am loving the story 💛

OMG YOURE SO CAUGHT UP IM SO HAPPY!! (Im also a huge one piece fan so im excited that you’re excited for this long ass fic haha luckily we don’t have tooooo much longer)

DO I HAVE ANY FANFIC RECS?!?! hahah oh yeah I do…. I’ll give you my longfic recs (They’re all atla I don’t read much other fic except random one shots)

first off all, war games by @lovelyelbowleech is so fucking good and long and even though I’m not caught up on the second installment I just know it’s so fucking good and you’re going to love it I promise trust me it’s amazing. War games is angsty and smart and fun you’ll be so happy! (& hurt)

also my new obsession the Mercy of Magpies by @ranilla-bean is soooo good I wanna scream about it all day and night. The world building is so extensive and delicious and then there’s a ton of amazing art that goes with it I swear it’s so good! I would recommend this one to anyone even if they aren’t in the fandom.

ok another long fic I enjoy WHICH IS ONE OF MY LONG TERM FAVES (I’ll catch up I swear I love love love you TAOB my wonderful first long zukka fic…) is the Art of Burning by @hella1975 I lost sleep reading this! The author also has fics for MHA!! Just check out her ao3 she’s an incredible author will rock your world I promise!!

DOG TEETH is the only not atla fic I’ve never read that I will recommend because again, @hella1975 poured a part of her soul in it so it’s good�� and really really PAINFUL.

ONE OF THE FICS THAT INSPIRED LIAB is the one & ONLYYYYY: Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_wonderful_thought (if you know their tumblr let me know!!) SO SO SO GOOD!!! Prison zuko! Isolated being disturbed & sokka being persistent and just such a good story!! One of my first true fanfic loves.

another gem I adore is actually one inspired by liab it’s La’s Wrath by anon and even though I can’t tag them if they read this just know this dark and tantalizing fic really takes an interesting perspective at what would have happened if the boys died and angsty but fun spirit shenanigans began. I love it so much it’s honestly my comfort fic haha

anything by @a-witch-in-endor in just mind blowing but: this is a gift (it comes with a price) rocked my brain chemistry in a way that was wonderful and intelligent and AHHH SO GOOD!!

Boomerangs and Rainbows is another AMAZING fic by someone who’s tumblr I don’t know but will totally add if I find out their tumblr! It’s a great fic I haven’t read in a while but I remember LOVING IT!

those are the longer fics that are more of that darker kind of angsty themes but I will do a few honorable mentions haha!

(not)according to plan by birdyhands (sorry I don’t have hour tumblr) but it was my very first zukka fic and I just fell in love with the potential of their relationship haha. If home is a place ,where do I go? By @maaaxx it’s currently being rereleased but I had the pleasure of reading the first chapter and fuck it I love me some sassy hakoda!

The Things I Would Do (To Steal Time With You) is the definition of a good long fic!! This one is by @erisenyo & it’s honestly such a relaxing time. Now don’t get me wrong! there’s a lot of tension both political and emotional communication happening but no one’s getting tortured so it’s a good breath of fresh air! The chapters are filled with so much wonderful world building I’m such a sucker for a good fleshed out world! This should keep you busy for a while!!!!! I’m so thankful that you’ve given me a chance to shout out to some of my fave fics and authors I wish I could scream about more of them!!! you’re such an amazing reader, I’m so thankful to have someone like you who takes the time to share your thoughts on not just ao3 but tumblr as well. All of these authors would be so lucky to have you as a reader I hope you enjoy!!!!

[wonder-worker]

"As regards women whose monuments depict a livery collar, the traditional supposition which saw ladies as appendages of their husbands should be revised. It may be true that some women did have livery collars depicted on their memorials in right of their husbands, but there are examples of those who were probably awarded a collar for their own royal service [...] Elizabeth Donne, wife of Sir John Donne, is depicted along with her husband wearing a collar of suns and roses with a white lion pendant in Hans Memling’s Donne Triptych. As she was one of Queen Elizabeth Woodville’s gentlewomen, receiving a £10 annuity, it is likely that she received a collar in this capacity. The same can be said of Margaret, wife of Nicholas Gaynesford (d. 1498), whose brass at All Saints’, Carshalton (Surrey), survives. Although her husband has no collar, Margaret is depicted in a ‘choker’ collar of suns and roses. According to the tomb inscription, she served in the households of both Elizabeth Woodville and her daughter Elizabeth of York."

-Matthew Ward, "The Livery Collar in Late Medieval England and Wales: Politics, Identity and Affinity"

[amphibianaday]

day 1421

[guessitrunsinthegenes]

this needs to be said here as well, it's ridiculous that this is happening yet again. they deserve their privacy and that fact does not change with the fact that they have jobs in social media!

[obeyme-lilium]

Visualizing Leviathan while he was in Celestial Realm's Navy vs. Years after he left.

Absolute Noodlefication of a Man.

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[saline-coelacanth]

I will forever be so upset that the Ice Chapter didn't give us a Kai VS Ice Emperor fight like come OOOON!

And I'm not even coming at this from an oppo angle. Like yeah, I love oppo, everyone knows that, but it just feels like such a missed opportunity to have Kai have to fight Zane and have him be the one to get him to snap out of it. But no, it has to be Lloyd because he's Lloyd.

And another thing that makes me so upset regarding the missed potential here is the fact that in the Fire Chapter, the big bad villain is Aspheera. And at the end of the Fire Chapter, Zane is the one who defeats her, you know, the master of ice. So then in the Ice Chapter, it would make sense that the one to defeat the big bad would be Kai since he's the master of fire and it would make for good parallels or whatever. But no we don't get that.

At the very least we get that awesome, badass scene where Kai defeats Boreal and saves the others. That scene was amazing, I just with we got a little more from Kai, you know?

[aotgylbs]

we don't talk enough about the drugs taylor put in the very first night

[rat-rosemary]

Tommy looks at the forest, the others shuffling anxiously behind him

It has been expanding (well, it was expanding from the first day) but it finally got big enough for someone else to notice he guesses. It only took them three months

He's not quite sure how they made the connection with Dream tho. They're right, but he has no clue how someone who didn't see it would know that Dream is at the center of this

(They probably just assumed. It's almost tradition at this point to blame everything on Dream)

The group of manhunters, about 10-ish people with Sapnap and Quackity in the front, look as prepared for a fight as they could be, their netherite armor shining like beetle wings in the sun

(Except Wilbur, who has nothing but his clothes and his cigarettes)

...if Tommy decides to lead them into the forest he's leading them to their deaths.

The armor is heavy and noisy. It shines obnoxiously in a way that would make it easy to spot on the pale oak even if they did manage to climb into a branch without letting every single creaking in the forest know exactly where they are, and it's too heavy to climb the dark oak trees

No one seems to have any invisibility potions either. He spots healing and regeneration and weakness and instant damage but no invisibility or night vision

He can help them with their search for Dream and by doing so he'll seal their fates.

"Tommy? Ready to go?"

Quackity catches his attention and Tommy turns to him

...he remembers afternoon after afternoon spent trailing after Wilbur as he and Quackity did. Whatever the fuck they were doing. Their weird sex rituals or whatever.

(He remembers watching The One That Bleeds, his wounds never healing as he sobs, crawling out of the blood oak, red roses tangled into his white hair. The burned brand on his back always seems fresh and it makes Tommy want to gag. He hopes that one is Dream's ghost. It seems too cruel for it to be him)

Tommy nods, walking into the forest, the fog welcoming him as an old friend as lillies of the valley grow angrily in-between his curls

He'll warn Tubbo and Fundy about the monsters and the false trees with guts and the flowers and the things that scream. Maybe Sapnap even. The rest of them? It was time for them to get a scare.

[unsat-and-strange]

jonny d'villes heart ticks audibly. the crew can hear it during the few and far between quiet moments on board the aurora. it's so steady, tick tick tick, a reminder that he is there and they are all alive together, never speeding up or slowing down. sometimes they joke about using it as a metronome during practice.

jonnys heart ticks. he can hear it every waking moment. tick tick tick. it never slows down, even in the deepest sleep according to the rest of the crew. it never speeds up even when his blood is more adrenaline then actual blood, times when normal peoples hearts would be racing. whether he's laughing his ass off or terrified for his life (I guess old habits die hard?) it. never. speeds. up. sometimes it's fine, he can ignore it but there are days when the constant tick tick tick tick tick tick tick is too much. the days when he has to drown out the sound with gunfire and screams or music loud enough to make his ears bleed. some days even that barely cuts it and he debates putting a bullet in his head just to make it quiet for a few hours. the rest of the crew has gotten pretty good at recognizing those days, and they know how to help him get through them, just like he knows how to help his crew through their bad days. nastya will bring him into the near deafening engine room and theyll play with power tools until their hands are covered in grease and grit, or Tim will sit him down on a speaker and play the bass so loud the whole ship can feel it, or Marius and raphaella will tell him about unethical medical practices they've witnessed/performed or Brian will just hold him close until the rhythms of the metal man's body distract from the tick tick tick tick of his own heart. the constant tick of immortality is loud. jonny can't deny his luck in finding a crew that is almost always louder.

[carlottastudios]

Every day I get closer to making an unhinged behemoth of a post listing all of the things about Kaeya and his possible connections to mythology & stuff that I notice but NOBODY ELSE SEEMS TO BRING UP IN THEIR THEORIES

(edit: OMG I reached the tag limit I'm so sorry)

[faux-mance]

I wanted to show this in my art before I talked about it, but since I’ve been feeling kind of unmotivated to make any art I feel comfortable with posting lately, so I might as well just talk about it

i heavily associate geno with white lilies. originally this was on a whim, just because i thought it fit. i drew white lilies in his sockets and growing around him and weaving through the gaps in his bones

this was a frankly amazing coincidence, though, because after looking into them more, they’re frequently considered symbols of death, grief and mourning. which ties into geno’s story and character surprisingly well.

however, they also represent rebirth and restorted innocence, which could relate to the new sans that was formed to replace geno in the timeline after he got trapped in the save screen. when that sans (who i call after) was created, he didn’t retain any of geno’s memories regarding the RESETs, which ties into white lilies really well. it might also refer to geno’s “rebirth” when he was able to leave the save screen and had his HP and (parts) of his body restored, also symbolizing the escape from the old cycles of resets. going even further with that, white lilies also are believed to be tied with the departure of the SOUL— which connects pretty well with chara finally accepting their death and leaving frisk’s body, letting them do one final pacifist route.

what i also find an amazing connection is the symbolism of white lilies in reapertale. it’s common knowledge that reaper’s touch kills everything living. this is a big factor in the white lily that life gives him in the comic. she tells him how mortals use it to symbolize death, and ironically, reaper kills it as soon as he touches it. but later, toriel makes him one made of glass using her powers, so that he could have a flower that would never wilt, never wither

and that connects back to geno, full circle. geno is reaper’s glass lily. he toes the line of death, but he’s something that reaper can touch without worry or fear of him dying.

i also just really like this idea because i hc geno to enjoy botany and plants, (also because i love when dust is characterized to ALSO be a botany nerd— i think they share an interest specifically in medical uses of plants, with geno also branching out into symbolism and dust experimenting with toxins. they should have an insane greenhouse together)

edit: you CAN tag this as afterdeath but that was not my intention.. i prefer to explore all these dynamics more thematically and platonically :-)

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

i wanted this comic digitalized so bad that i used max's birthday as an excuse. :)

this is the true ending. if im insane enough ill show you the alternate ending though

bonus because i just. it just kinda peters out. longggg post yayyye