#currently relearning to breathe

[beemintty]

had a minor freak out over academic achievement.... i put a lot of pressure on myself to do well and i need a specific score to get into the course i want to study in at uni and my prediction says i'll over shoot the score by a few points but that was when i thought i'd actually perform well in my 50% weighted exams.... i'm not performing how i was meant to perform.... which really sucks when you're me and you put a whole heap of your worth on how well you perform. but my mother, the beautiful woman that she is, reminded that i'm 17 and this score isn't the end of the world, it's not even the beginning of it either. it's just a score, it won't matter in 6 months. i can work around the things that need working around. it doesn't make me more or less of a person. i'm 17, i'm not expected the know what i'm doing or where i'm going, all i'm expected to be is 17. this is only the very beginning of my life, i just got to try my best and cross my fingers; thats all we can ever do.

breathe. we'll be ok.

[cupcakeslushie]

Bro

So I’ve been cooking on what to say about your KendraTello fic for a couple months now and I think I finally have some sort of semblance of thought that is shareable. First off, my friend once said that any form of media that makes you feel something is considered good media. And Broski, lemme tell ya. Your KendraTello AU makes me F e E l T h I n G s.

I have so much to say but for the instance of this comment, I see myself as Mikey in this situation. I have ridiculously high empathy and I’m studying to become a counselor while currently being in counseling myself. While I never had to deal with the struggles and the complete hell of being in an EXTREMELY toxic relationship like that, I do struggle with overcoming my own insecurities and crushing rescuer/complex. AKA I feel like I gotta save/be helpful to everybody or else I have no value.

So reading this little story has me like gripping my blanket in horror because it is just so well written that not only can I see the implications, but I can FEEL how the rewiring would have felt for Donnie. Like…*shudders* I get it. A bit. And trying to overcome that? To grow and learn how to trust people, especially those you considered to have hurt you? The brothers relearning how to love their traumatized brother and realizing nothing, nothing is ever going to be the same way again? It makes me want to cry and cradle Donnie and all of them so tightly. I get it, honey, I get it from both sides, and I am so so so sorry.

*holds up hands* Now I’m not trying to share this in any negative or trauma dumbing manner at ALL. If it came across as such, my sincerest apologies. I genuinely just wanted to commend you in your storytelling abilities for they truly are impelling on multiple accounts. I hope this message finds you well and is a reminder that you are leaving an impact in this world. You’re making a difference and I think that you’re honestly incredible. Sending my love and support to both you and your Donnie ✨🫂🧡🙏🏼

Sorry this took so long to reply back, I have a few asks in my inbox that I just like to scroll back through and ponder on, and this has been one of the ones I’ve been holding onto.

Thank you for being so open and honest, and real, I think that will really help in your own journey to become a counselor for others, because all of that helps people feel like their concerns and issues are actually being heard. I’m also on the highly empathetic spectrum, and it’s taken many years to come to terms with knowing when to put my needs and happiness on the forefront, instead of exhausting myself in trying to fix everyone else’s problems.

Every day we are bombarded with people all around the world that are struggling, and in need of help. We have so much more access than any other generation before us, and that can give us so much anxiety and helplessness, and make it feel like we aren’t doing enough to make things better. If you need to take a break from listening to the problems of your friends and family, or take a break from doomscrolling, because it’s all making you feel like you’re the worst, for not helping every single person that comes across your feed, then take a break, please. Trust that someone else is doing their part as well, and breathe.

It’s a delicate balance sometimes, but please remember that you always have worth, even if you’re only doing your best to exist and be healthy. You deserve rest and love too, and those are never things you should have to earn!

[starhoppin]

pick a picture; messages from the universe

pile 1 -> pile 2 -> pile 3

disclaimer; this is a general reading! these messages may not fit everyone. please take what resonates and leave the rest.

「pile one」

the fool rv (cb: the hierophant, seven of cups), eight of cups (ace of wands, the lovers), the moon (five of wands rv, three of wands).

you may be experiencing some challenges at the moment. you could be dealing with an authoritative figure at work that is taking advantage of you - pushing your boundaries and making you consider alternative options. for others, you simply may not be happy at your current job, and you're looking into different opportunities. regardless, you may be ready to accept any offer that comes your way in order to get out of this situation. you're overwhelmed by the potential avenues you can take, and it looks like it's paralyzing you with indecision. you may be getting in your own way when it comes to this situation by focusing on the "what ifs." figure out what you truly desire - that will guide you in the right direction. it looks like you're also in a transition period in your love life. you may be contemplating leaving a connection/partnership behind because they are not fulfilling your needs. you're being asked to declutter and get rid of things that do not serve your highest good. a lot is going on for you behind the scenes. what may seem like insurmountable obstacles and delays will benefit you in the long run. these "blockages" are shielding you from conflict.

「pile two」

judgement rv (cb: queen of swords, ten of pentacles), ten of swords (cb: knight of cups rv, seven of cups rv), page of pentacles (cb: ace of cups rv, five of pentacles rv)

pile two, it looks like you're going through a difficult time. are you feeling like you need to have control over all aspects of your life? do not be afraid to relinquish your grip on the things in your life. change is necessary, it doesn't have to be scary or bad. things will not slip away if you loosen your grip. i'm channeling a very anxious energy from you, pile two. do me a favor: take a deep breath, unclench your jaw, relax your shoulders. everything will be okay. you may be feeling really defeated - perhaps struggling with confusion and just overall disappointment in your love life. a romantic partner may have been cheating or engaging in sneaking behavior behind your back which significantly hurt you. do not blame yourself for what transpired. their actions are their own; it's not a reflection of you. you're being asked to focus on other areas of your life. reach out to friends and family in order to ease your burden; ask them for help. spend time with them and it'll ease the emotional loss and help you recover from this quickly.

「pile three」

temperance (cb: king of pentacles, two of cups), the hermit rv (cb: strength, nine of wands rv), the lovers (cb: seven of pentacles, ten of pentacles rv). additional cards: surprise, sunshine, personal riches.

your message pertains to your love life. you may be doubting your current efforts in love or are going through a period of loneliness. you may feel like you're not making progress, but rest assured, you are. there are wonderful changes that are coming if you remain faithful and persevere. you have the inner strength to overcome these doubts. you're being asked to resist the urge to seek someone out to simply "fill the void" or act as a distraction for you. do not ignore red flags. you may end up repeating a lesson from the past that you do not need to relearn. you're being called to focus on your career. your finances may be improving dramatically and your career will thrive if you devote your focus to it. the universe is hinting that this may even bring a change in your love life.

tarot deck used in this reading: cirque du tarot & fortune cookies

[radiance1]

Back on my bullshit with the Eastern Dragon Danny and Phoenix Vlad au:

So basically, Vlad decided to go to sleep for a while, inside a modified coffin built to withstand him and all that. So, he tells Danny a specific time to wake him so that he could resume his duties as Duke.

Why did Vlad decide to take a really long nap? Because he was extremely tired of ghost zone politics and decided to just go fuck it, I need a nap.

The deadline he needed Danny to wake him up at is relatively short in ghost terms really, just about a period of 40 years, he's currently 20, so at the end of this he should just be an even 60. Which would give him plenty of time to finish forty years of work before his rebirth cycle kicked in again.

He gave Danny the key to said coffin, with its specific magical signature and everything. So he expected and trusted that Danny would awaken him within a span of forty years, perhaps a bit earlier if push came to shove.

Then he just went to sleep.

Danny doesn't like his decision to just, up and go sleep for forty years, only because he would have to be the one doing the paperwork but its like, whatever he guessed. Do Danny was now actually handling the paperwork and navigating ghostly politics once more!

Joy...

He was buried in work for a fair amount of time, sometimes literally, and had to kick it back for a bit before going back to work. He felt like he was forgetting something, though...

A key appeared under a stack of papers that he just worked through, a veeeeeeery familiar key that he was sure had some kind of importance based on that itchy feeling in the back of his skull.

Eh, it's probably not important.

Welp, back to work!

Danny worked in silence for a bit, before getting up and slamming his hands on his desk.

OH FUCK, VLAD!

It's been waaaay more than 40 years last he checked, enough time that Vlad must've rebirthed inside his coffin already by like, a lot of times by now.

Considering that 5 millenniums have passed.

Well, shit.

So he hid the key in his hair, shifted, and flew off to Vlad's domain to wake him up. But when he got there, weeeeell, let's just say that Vlad's coffin was. Well.

It was gone.

Now, you see Observants. He had a totally reasonable explanation for this, you know. It was uh, well, you know, he just, ya'know?

He just, kinda, forgot...

He'll get him back! He swears! He just, need to, ya'know, find the guy!

Couldn't be that hard!

Another five millenniums later, he felt like punching his past self for fucking jinxing future him! The Observants were literally breathing down his neck to find the guy, and he didn't want to go back to doing paperwork either!

His salvation came in the form of a summoning, one he answered and finally, finally found the location of Vlad's coffin. He honestly got extremely, he didn't want to face paperwork again, so he asked these group of heroes to help him find this specific coffin in exchange for whatever they wanted him to do.

And he's Ancient damn thankful he did cause oh boy, cause like 2 days later he was presented the coffin that was just sitting collecting dust in some magician guy's house that was apparently passed down throughout generations that the Justice League managed to get their hands on.

So he opened it, and literally had to catch Vlad, who fell out of his coffin and looked like a literal 10-year-old. Did Vlad's temporary retirement plan include his deadline of 40 years being stretched by 9,960 years? No, no it did not, and unlike the previous ghost king, he was not unaffected by the length of his sleep.

So forgive him if he had to relearn how to do basic body functions, his memory foggy, and his powers were a bit outta wack.

[divine-misfortune]

Kinktober, day 4. Temperature play.

Pairing: Mist/Dewdrop

Words: 1,363

Contains: Light body worship, being weird about spit, being weird about gills, gill fingering

Summary: Dew finally allows Mist to see him post elemental transition.

Read on Ao3

“Oh droplet…” 

Dew searched the water ghoulette’s face desperately. What for? He didn’t know, most likely disgust. Maybe disappointment with a dash of pity. Her silver eyes wandered the once familiar plane of his torso slowly, expression soft and borderline unreadable. He bit his lower lip and fixed his attention to her vanity on the far side of the room, trying not to shrink into himself. He’d never shied away from Mist before, he didn’t want to start. 

But her silence was this close to gutting him. 

Without warning, the icy tips of her fingers brushed the jagged scars on his ribs and he nearly threw himself off the bed from the surprise alone. He, regrettably, yipped and promptly hissed at her. 

“That got you back to me, don’t go wandering off in your head guppy, I can’t follow you there.” 

“Sorry…This is still weird for me.” His hackles lowered slowly and he rubbed the side of his neck, feeling the difference of skin and scar tissue under his palm. “Also you’re really fucking cold.” 

“No, you’re just really fucking warm.” Mist laughed and held out a hand, “it’s certainly different.” 

He breathed a laugh and allowed her to pull him further onto the bed, only grimacing a little from the cold squeeze of her fingers between his. Even if it was different, even if he was different, they still moved together easily. Seamless currents. She straddled his hips and he let her push the shirt from his shoulders, humming thoughtfully as her nails drag lightly along his arms. Noting the places his fins used to sit and how the skin is darkened by some sort of infernal ash with a little nod to herself. 

She was studying him, relearning the body she’d spent years exploring. It was still her Dewdrop, even if elementally he was a stranger. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, you go and prove me wrong…You know I hate being wrong, droplet.” 

Dew let himself be pushed back into the pillows with only a hint of protest. He couldn’t truly deny her if he tried, and she knew that, just from the way those orange eyes stared up at her. 

“Hi,” he whispered when she’d finally stopped moving, reverting back to staring at him once again.

“Hi baby.” Mist pet her thumb over his cheek, “you blush a lot easier now. I think I like it.” 

“You don’t have to just keep looking at me y’know.” 

“I don’t?” She tipped her head curiously and splayed a hand on his belly, flashing her teeth gleefully when his muscles jumped under her touch. She drifted north, watching his skin prickle and his body tense. “Maybe I want to.” 

“Mist” Dew groaned and tried to readjust himself, subtly shifting his hips upwards to meet hers. “C’mon I just went through something fucking traumatic, can’t you hold off on teasing me till next time?” 

“Are…Are you trying to guilt me into fucking you faster?” Mist snorted, brow quirking upwards. 

“I’d never!” He gasped and turned his nose up at her for a moment before looking at her from the corner of his eye, “...Is it working though?”  

“Just this once, I’ll let you have this, yes it’s working.” 

The water ghoulette tugged her own shirt off and tossed it across the room with an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Dew didn’t seem bothered by it. He looked like an excited puppy for all it was worth, maybe the fire ghoul had softened her up a bit. Not that she’d ever tell him that, he’d never shut up about it. Instead of stroking his ego any, she laid herself flat to his chest and kissed him. 

A peck at first, one he chased like she’d never come back if he let her go. His hand came to the back of her neck to draw her back, quick to nip at her lower lip and lick the little surprised sound from her mouth. Even his taste had changed. Spiced with cinnamon but kept sweet by sugar. It made her dizzy like a lungful of secondhand smoke, but she kept dipping in for another taste. She needed to commit it to memory.

He fumbled with the button on her pants for longer than she really should have let him, his hand on the back of her neck grew warmer with his frustration. Almost unbearably hot. She smacked his hand away before he burned through her favorite jeans. Pausing long enough to shed the last of their clothes was too long for him apparently, he whined her name sadly when he settled back onto the bed and she wasn’t immediately on top of him. Some things never change at least. 

Mist moved up the mattress from the foot of the bed, stalking on her hands and knees with the same dangerously fluid movements of a jaguar. He swallowed thickly as she poised herself over him, it was only in moments like this did he seem to remember he was swimming with a shark. As if to prove the point she grinned, all teeth, as she settled back into her previous position. 

Without clothes in the way, she could feel just how truly hot Dew ran. He put off heat like a furnace, nowhere more it seemed than where their bodies met. Mist rolled her hips curiously, his cock trapped between his belly and her bare cunt, Dew choked. He gasped and tried to clap a hand over his mouth.

“You’re more sensitive than you used to be.” She repeated the motion, eyes fluttering as the little ridge at the tip caught against her clit. “Do you even think you’ll manage more than a few little rolls of my hips before cumming if I let you inside?” The question, mean in nature, was asked in the same soft loving voice she’d always saved for him. “I cum first, or your orgasm gets ruined, you know the rules. 

“I-I can, please just sit on it Mist, I missed you.” 

Sighing with barely restrained fondness, she rocked forward onto her knees and granted him the tight embrace of her body. She was wet enough he slid in easily, not that Dew took much preparation to fit, she still hissed through her teeth as he opened her up. Between the stretch and the warmth radiating inside her, her head was spinning. He reached for her and she was helpless to oblige his whims. A kiss at the corner of her mouth, her cheek, and the fire ghoul hid against the crook of her neck. His lips brushed the space just above her gills but his sigh was what truly made her moan. 

“Fuck, guppy, be a good boy…”

Dew trilled happily. Flicked his tongue over the little frill that poked out before licking a broad stripe across the two highest. She shuddered, his mouth was molten but his spit kept her fins warm in between every overconfident motion of his tongue. He dipped into the middle slit and swiped up before retreating, only to repeat it on the next unviolated gill. 

Mist groaned low and let him switch to pay the same attention to the other side. He made it sloppy, she could feel his drool dripping from where it collected in her gills, and it trickled down her collar. Flooded by him now, every ragged inhale she took was essentially drinking him in. His newfound sweetness, the faintly smoky taste, it felt like Dew was everywhere.

“Shit!” The water ghoulette almost wailed as he grabbed at her wrist and dragged her palm flush to the unoccupied side of her own neck. Icy needles cut through the pleasant warmth she’d been sinking into. 

Her body clenched desperately, involuntarily, around him.

“It’s a lot, huh?” Dew asked, smug. If her spine didn't feel like jelly she’d have sat up to glare at him. “Ifrit used to spit in my gills and have me finger them, the temperature difference drove me fucking mad.”

“And it’s about to drive me fucking mad, seven hells-” Her thighs shook, white hot pleasure trapped beneath the chill of her fingers. “I…Do it again, firefly.”

[shiftymimilily]

what do you think happens to realities after we leave? say i want to leave my current reality because i’m sick okay so i shift, is this “version” of me not real anymore or am i just not conscious of their pain? i’m having a philosophical crisis because i love myself and i don’t deserve to suffer at all yk so i kinda want to stay in “bad” situations to help myself out and i don’t know if this line of thinking even makes sense but i would appreciate your perspective on it

I know, it's not really directly about permashifting, but I think my experiences here are relevant to it. So I hope you sit down and listen for a bit.

A thought about permashifting from both sides of the coin.

Well, firstly, thank you. Somehow, you got me to unlock some of my past memories from my permashift going here. I intentionally locked them behind certain checkpoints I believe so I can access and relearn them again in due time, and I think this was one of them. Funny on how it goes full-circle here. So, instead of an answer, I give you, hopefully, a peace of mind.

I went through a similar crisis back then: What would happen to myself in the reality I was in right now old if I had left permanently? I’ve seen and experienced both sides in a sense. I was in your place, as my "other-self" as I will call them, and I am perhaps where someone wants to be when they go to a new place. In the "new place". Wouldn't it be so selfish to leave people behind? To leave A PART of myself behind?

Then I realized, this was me. Both are me. We’re not separated, ever. This is what WE want. In a sense, I can live in peace with their suffering because they suffer in my name and I gave them meaning to suffer because I was what gave them, or that self, the will to go through suffering. They’ll forever be my other-self, and that’s what they wished to willingly to be. What I wished to be. They'll forever have existed somewhere, as part of you. That is unchangeable.

You're such a beautiful soul to be so considerate. I assure you however that they'll be okay because I know I'm okay. Have faith. You're okay. Truly. Just breathe. You don't have to stay somewhere you don't have to, and we don't have to go anywhere if we don't want to. Whether we stay or go or return, life goes on, and that's not something to be scared of, but to embrace. It’s not wrong to want to be in another space. Your guilt and shame, is natural. However, on the grand scale of things? It's okay. My current existence here as a self is help enough to help the other-self I was.

I won't be able to answer what absolutely happens when we go to another relait. I don't think beings like myself are supposed to anyway. Maybe the world ceases to exist, maybe it doesn't and it's its own thing. I have my theories of course, but acknowledge I don't know how this sector of the multiverse works, nor do I need to. You say it's okay for yourself now and it will be, and that's more than enough for it to not be selfish. If you're willing to let yourself go somewhere, then let go. Approval had been given a long time ago when you decided to go another place.

But if it does, I can safely say they'll move on without you. They'll do whatever they'll do. Go through grief. The suffering. You also miss out on the healing. The smiles. The moments in the future of whatever timeline that is. It's bittersweet. You won’t know what happens or what's happening to them, but you have to trust yourself as you right. This is the wish: that's what you can respect. That this other you might not make it the way you wish them to, but they will have lived and that’s more than what the universe can ever ask for with a shifter. As a shifter. To exist. To manifest. To shift. To be.

[crystalandparrot]

The Hardest Trial: Pt. 2

Learning Curve

This is SUNSPOT!! Or how I envision her. She's wearing a clip on bow tie and shorts that are WAY too big on her. I named her Mary, but again, I'll keep it a reader insert if thats what the people want. I dont mind changing it.

It's been three years since Bill arrived in his current predicament: stuck roaming a family's house like a ghost with only the smallest human to actually talk to.

Sure it wasn't the same as talking to Sixer, but the questions never got boring. It turned out that not only could this child see him, they could interact with them. Bill could touch and be touched...unfortunately only by one person and that person was a child, but better than nothing. Bill had yet to discover if his powers grew over his time in this state or if he was simply relearning how to use them, but Bill began releasing small bits of power he did not have in the Mindscape previously. Bill could lift things, with about as much grace and strength as a Poltergeist run on molasses, but he could lift things!

Over his time in the past, Bill also realized something was drawing him back to this child. A magnet? A string? A pull of some kind always, always, ALWAYS, brought Bill back to her. He could travel as far as the city's boundary, then POOF back home. It was only annoying a few times, then Bill got the gist.

Bill found it odd just how much time the little Sunspot's parents spent with her, he was almost positive a normal set of parents was next to their child almost 24/7. But they seemed to avoid her! Heck, Bill was the one to potty train her. Bill took it upon himself to teach the kid how to be a less annoying human (to him at least), taking the time to teach them to talk in English, backwards English, and Latin (a fun trick at parties), he made sure they could walk, crawl, and crab/exorcist walk (also hilarious), and was even starting to teach them the alphabets! Y'know, the English alphabet, his alphabet, Sixer's code, and of course the Caesar Cipher alphabet (how could he not?). Over time Bill began to realize that he was having...fun? It was almost like making a mini version of him! And the best part was that Sunspot took to all of it like it was as easy as breathing! It's true what they say, kids are like sponges.

"Why do lizards grow back their tails?"

A voice startled Bill out of his thoughts and he glanced down at the four year old human sitting on the floor from his spot on the dresser — yes it was his spot. When he expressed pain (in a display of acting that would have absolutely won an award) in his back from the sleeping arrangements, the cute little Sunspot immediately made a makeshift bedroom with items around the house, two paper towel rolls, a ripped fishnet stocking she stole, and an empty jewelry box she dumped on the floor before giving to Bill (she made sure to keep the gold as per Bill's wishes). It was fitted with a small mirror, a netted hammock, and a small chest to put any items of his (he humored it for the kid, even though he can make anything appear with the snap of his fingers).

"It's so when predators try to eat them and grab their tail, they can just—" Bill snapped his fingers for emphasis and an image of a wiggling lizards' tail appeared next to him, "—pop it right off. Then its muscles spasm to trick the predator into thinking it's alive so it eats the tail instead of chasing the lizard."

The child looked up at Bill in wonder, "Can all of its body parts do that?"

Bill leaned forward with a gleeful expression, "Do you wanna find out?"

"I don't know what to do, sir. She was such a happy kid. Always laughing and giggling..."

"And then what?"

"Then...she started talking."

"That's typically normal for most toddlers—"

"You don't understand. She said her first word at ten months, then she never stopped talking. Always asking questions, but getting the answer before we told her, like she was testing us!"

"Then what?"

"Then it was...the games."

"Can you expand a little more on that?"

"She would claim her friend was asking her to do things. Like cutting off the arms and legs of a lizard, breaking glass to build a prism, throwing an aerosol can into the fire place —luckily the fire was dying out and we were able to take it out before something bad could happen."

"And who's this friend?"

"The same as her first word—Bill."

"Do you need to be extracted, agent?"

"No! No...no, sir. There's still some things to finish here."

"Fine. But you will be removed should anything detrimental occur, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

FINALLY! Lake day! Bill had been waiting a month for this! He had his inner tube ready and waiting for that lazy river, and it was time to relax. Being a dream demon to a four year old was hard work.

Bill lazily floated in his tube, the water moving in perfect circles around him. He kept his eye open slightly to keep an eye on everyone, but was otherwise relaxed. The little Sunspot was playing in the shallow water, picking up rocks and throwing them back into the water to try and hit the fish. Her parents were sitting underneath the open trunk door of their minivan, talking quietly and glancing at Sunspot briefly now and then.

"Bill! That fish has a mustache!!" Sunspot pointed at a Catfish swimming nearby in the tall grass.

"That's a Catfish, the mustache helps it taste." Bill educated calmly and shut his eye.

"Ooh, tasting mustache..."

Bill gave a small chuckle. Everything was peaceful and quiet...until—

SPLASH

Bill's eye flashed open and he looked around briefly to see what could have made the splash. The answer was found quickly when he saw a large, round boy standing over Sunspot, who was sitting in the water, soaking wet. Bill's body quickly flashed red before turning back to his signature yellow. With a snap, his swim trucks and baseball cap were replaced by his bowtie and top hat. Bill quickly flew over to the confrontation.

"Did this kid push you?" Bill asked the soaking child. Bill glanced over at her parents, who were still talking. She gently nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Do you wanna do something about it?" Bill outstretched his hand, void of blue fire.

The little Sunspot thought for a moment, then grabbed Bill's hand.

"Aww, is the little baby gonna cry? Wah wah wah!" The bully taunted, his group of patsy's giggling behind him. It shocked them when they heard more giggling, and it was coming from the small child in the water. "What's so funny?"

The girl looked up, one eye bright yellow with a thin pupil, the other was her signature shade of (e/c) and had a round pupil. "I'm just thinking how funny it would be to see how your arms and legs work backwards."

Oddly enough, it wasn't the first or second scream that got the attention of the parents in the area, but rather the sudden psychotic laughter that echoed around the river.

The Sunspot's parents finally walked over to investigate and were horrified to see two children wallowing on the ground in pain. One child had a broken arm and the other had a broken leg. There was also a third child that was rocking back and forth and gripping his head a couple of feet away, his eyes were dilated and distant.

In the water, crouching down and poking at a salamander, was (Y/n), the little Sunspot.

"You know some salamanders have tongues ten times the length of their body." Bill poked at the salamander's eye, causing it to blink and look around for the perpetrator.

"Does this one?"

"Wanna find out?"

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 5: After the Self-Same Trial

Chapter 5: After the Self-Same Trial

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 2, Canon-typical violence, awkward, developing relationship

WC: 1.7k words, 5/18 chapters

Summary: After their mutual feelings are shared, Astarion and Rogue!Tav are relearning how to act around each other. A kiss-hug combo!

Ao3 | [Hug4][Hug6] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

You’re facing the appropriately named “Self-Same Trial” and you can’t but feel a deep annoyance at yourself. Why the hells are you so good at dodging? Why won’t you just stand still?

It was early in the trial that you realized that you would need to face yourself. Karlach’s attempt to help Astarion only led to a wicked curse from above– there was likely some godly metaphor and lesson to be learned here, but you are too busy trying to stab yourself to care.

The problem with facing yourself, you quickly realize, is that you are good at killing. You hear Karlach roar a rageful cry and suffer a momentary lapse in your attention, one that your shadowy self takes advantage of immediately. A sharp knife stabs into your side– a perfect replica of your own knife. You look down at the betraying blade and back at your own shadow before dodging the next swipe.

Adrenaline pulses through you, keeping you moving, but you’re not making much of a dent on yourself. You would check to see how the others’ are faring, but you can’t afford another injury. Instead you call out, “Are you all alright?”

“Just peachy, thanks!” Karlach is the first to respond, and despite being unable to see her, you know she’s grinning from ear to ear. You suppose this might be a fun exercise, if only you weren’t so awfully annoying to fight.

“Making do,” Shadowheart says shortly after, she follows it with a loud shield bash and you can distantly see her shadow tumble to the ground.

Astarion remains quiet, and you’re a bit worried until you see him sneaking up on your duplicate. He gives you a casual wink before brandishing his blades on either side of your shadow. A fraction of a second later, he strikes.

“Is your flank always this open?” Astarion mocks, finding a vulnerable part of the creature’s armor and stabbing from the side. His blade digs deep and seeing it, you make a mental note to cover your side better.

Your shadow hisses in pain, but doesn’t lose its focus on you, aiming another shot at your torso. Something about having Astarion there, flanking this creature, allows you focus. Deflecting the blade, you move in to attack, piercing the creature with both of your blades in quick succession.

Its death is swift and anticlimactic, as it dissipates into a cloud of darkness. You breathe a sigh of relief before turning to Astarion. Your voice comes out harsh with concern as you survey him for dark magic, “You fool, you’re going to get cursed!”

He sighs and adopts a mocking tone, “‘You’re welcome, Astarion. I’m so grateful you saved my life, Astarion.’ See how easy that is?” He’s clearly taken a note from how you dealt with the Orthon.

“I’ll thank you when I make sure you won’t incur the wrath of Shar,” you snap back. 

“I’m fine,” he says, waving your concern away with a hand. “I remain blissfully uncursed.”

You see the truth of his words, he looks fine. Better than you do currently. “Well then, thank you,” you relent. Your words bring a dazzling smile to your lover’s face and you decide you must grant him as many ‘thank you’s as he requires. Focusing back to the combat at hand, you continue, “In that case, we should help the others.” 

Astarion gives you a short nod and you both move in unison to go help Shadowheart and Karlach. Helping each in turn, the shadows dissipate into the temple’s darkness, and leave you all breathing heavy in the silence that follows. 

“Gods, we’re the worst,” you say, breaking the silence and motioning your companions to regroup.

The combat over, Shadowheart recites a healing prayer for the group. Your wounds heal over in an instant and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Shadowheart. I can’t believe I let myself get the better of me,” you say, with a chuckle.

“I can’t believe you did either,” Astarion quips. “Here I thought you were some grand assassin.”

“I am a grand assassin, which is why my shadow was actually able to actually hit me, unlike some other rogue I know.”

Karlach snorts from your side, “Is this how it’s going to be now? And we thought the flirting was bad before.” She makes a face at Shadowheart. 

“I knew Astarion would be bad,” the cleric starts. “But you?” She levels you with a disappointed look. “I expected a bit better.”

You give them both an offended gasp. “I am not flirting!”

“Really, darling? I certainly am, ” Astarion takes a few steps closer to you, eyes sparkling with mischief. Your heartbeat accelerates at his words, the lidded look he gives you. But you’re still somehow the leader of this group and you’ll be damned if you won’t keep it on the rails.

“You are not allowed to flirt,” you scold, pointing a finger at him sternly. “You could have been cursed. Shadowheart already needs to remove the curse from Karlach, what good would it have been for you to be afflicted too?”

“Well, I’m clearly not cursed,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Seems like Shar’s condition was removed as soon as I defeated myself, so I don’t see what the issue is.”

“How did you know the curse worked that way?” you question, not willing to drop this issue as long as your concern for him still eats at you.

“I didn’t, I suppose. But I wasn't about to leave you injured and in danger,” he scoffs, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if it wasn’t even a week ago that he would never be caught uttering such words, especially in front of the entire party.

“I see,” you say, suddenly struck by the change in his treatment of you. You clear your throat, unsure how to handle the shift. “I appreciate that you came to help, so thank you again.” 

Astarion brightens almost imperceptibly at that. “It was the least I could do. I am… happy to help.” He seems unsure about his own words, and your heart squeezes in affection.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, the question hushed and tentative. The moment feels right, but you are also hyper-aware of both of your companions standing a few meters away.

“There is nothing I’d like more,” he responds, a warm smile gracing his lips– clearly unbothered by the audience. 

You close the distance between you both, placing a hand on his arm and your lips onto his. While you had intended for a quick post-battle peck, Astarion holds your elbow in place and leans into the kiss. His other arm wraps around your side and pulls you into his embrace.

As for your audience, Karlach can’t help herself for more than a second. Almost immediately she whistles at the two of you. “Get it, soldier!” A moment later she adds, “And I guess you too, Fangs.”

You can feel Astarion’s arm move away from yours, and from her cackle, you have the sneaking suspicion that he’s flipping Karlach off. Honestly though, you’re too focused on the feel of his lips on yours to care. The coolness of his lips, the soft pressure, the measured movement– you don’t think you could ever get tired of kissing this man.

After it lasts a bit too long for the comfort of your companions, Shadowheart gives an unsubtle cough. Your lips break apart, but Astarion is still hugging you to him, his expression that of mild annoyance.

“Did you need something?” he asks Shadowheart, eyes narrowed at her.

“Just wondering if we could expect either of you back this century,” the cleric retorts sarcastically. “If not, I’ll need to check if the forces of evil are willing to take a break until you’re ready.”

“What’s the point in defeating evil if you don’t have the chance to enjoy a lovely thank you along the way? But fine.” Your lover sighs reluctantly and finally lets you go. “Let’s get the hells out of this trial.”

The group collects itself and the spoils of your trial. Shadowheart removes Karlach’s curse, muttering something about how Shar is working in mysterious ways. After dusting yourselves off, you use the Umbral Transporter to return to the front of the chamber and resume the Gauntlet.

As you leave, Astarion walks next to you, matching your steps and pace. You sense that he’s doing so more out of precaution or wariness than to make it a cute relationship moment.

“Something on your mind?” you ask, tilting your head and looking at him.

“Well– It would have been quite silly of you to die to yourself, don’t you think.” Astarion sounds like he’s coming to terms with something, and you don’t find it to be too presumptuous to believe that it may be about you. You reach out a hand to his shoulder and squeeze gently, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Quite right. I would rather go out in a blaze of glory at this point,” you say, a wry grin on your face. “Though I know we talked about knives playing a role, it feels rather mundane now that we’re in the midst of an ancient temple to the Lady of Loss. I promise I won’t let something like that kill me, alright?”

He does seem to take solace in your words, morbid as they are. "Good. And I promise to erm… try to keep you alive. As best as I can."

If he hadn't already won your heart, his awkward vow might have claimed it once more. "Thank you, love. And you know I'll have your back too." 

"I know," he says, smiling. His expression shifts to something more serious as he continues, "Now to continue in this demented temple. You’d think Shar would be appeased by now, really."

"Oh, Lady of Sorrows guide us," Shadowheart calls from ahead. “We’ve only got one more to go, so please do keep it together until then. And hurry up, if you get lost in each other’s eyes we won’t bother finding you.”

[cupiddivinearrow]

PICK - A - CARD

Use your intuition or let yourself be pulled to the card that’s calling to you. Take a breathe and let it out…

Now pick…

PILE 1:

Some key indicators to see if this is the pile for you...

• Divinely connected

• Very intuitive (maybe clairvoyant or clairaudient)

• Very magnetic and alluring, and very nurturing energy

• Possibly a powerful manifestor

• Usually balanced & Has an ability to go w/ the flow

• Some of you may be going through a transformation, a rebirth? Possibly a glow up?

• Life path number 9 Possibly a • Welsh tie

• May even have an affinity for poetry, sorcery.

• Some of you may be an old soul

• Maybe a fear of the unknown

Pile 1, you may be currently working through a karmic contract to reach financial security. Be mindful to listen to your intuition during this time. Maybe you’re being told urged to find peace in a situation? Be cautious but plan accordingly, fore there might be more difficulties coming in. But by staying grounded, you can get through this with a clear mind. A new opportunity will be coming forward soon, if it hasn’t already. Also, some of you might be currently going through an ascension, so it’s necessary to focus on what you can learn and/or relearn during this time. . And try to write or blog more. This will help in elevating and contributing to others in fields that you are being called in. Also, some of you may be facing legal issues. There is someone that could help you, so please make sure to pay attention to your intuition. Birds may be a sign that Spirit, the Divine, the Universe, or whoever you follow, may be trying to communicate with you.

And lastly, maybe this has already occurred or is about to, however... Pile 1, after the complications of the past left you feeling lost and in regret, you made a decision to leave a karmic situation that was leaving you feeling emotional unfulfilled. This was a destined move so you could go through a metamorphosis. A karmic contract, that possibly left you feeling insecure about what’s out there, has been completed. You have been working close to Divine beings, whether you realize it or not. Maybe you have noticed a change in your gifts? An upgrade? At this time, you’re having to be disciplined enough to know when to meditate, when to rest, when to take action, etc. You’re possibly finding yourself in a place of authority, but you can handle it. Just remember, with great power comes responsibility.

PILE 2:

Key Indicators for this pile might be:

• Some of you might be in your heads of lot Pile 2.

• Might be seeing alot of 3s (333) and 9s (999)

• Purple or Pink could mean something to you

• Libra, Virgo, Aries energies

• Maybe looking to get more in tune with oneself?

• Maybe an old soul

• Possible Introverts

• The heart, throat, and third eye chakras may possibly be blocked

Some of you in Pile 2 might be feeling a bit unbalanced or a block with your intuition. Pile 2, an ancestor or the Universe has been trying to communicate with you. The way you will know Pile 2, is if you keep seeing things in sets of 3. 3 birds, or 3 people with the same name, or 333. Be sure to pay attention to the signs around you. When you get a gut instinct, trust it. Life may have gotten pretty busy for you and you may be finding it hard to take a minute to yourself, but that’s exactly what is needed at this time. Try to find some time to yourself everyday, which could help you feel more connected and help you to be more receptive to messages and signals, including non-verbal ones. The Universe hears your wishes and is trying to help you make a decision about something. Pay attention to the signs around you. Although easier said than done, consider that you may not be getting the best advice at the moment from others that are offering their opinions and finding a family member or loved one to talk to could help clear up a lot. It’s time to open yourself up. Be open to what is being told to you, but also remember to 100% speak your truth. Take the time to gather all the information available before making your decision and dont let anyone pressure you.

Some of you in Pile 2 who were previously grounded and independent, has been or was feeling lonely and embarrassed over a conflict where secrets, or hidden opinions, were revealed that may have involved co-workers, or a coven, or just a group that you had a disagreement with, which left you feeling powerless.

However, as of late, Pile 2, you have been learning to let go. Maybe you’ve been feeling a bit stressed after some financial loss that are causing unnecessary delays. You’re possibly learning to let go of your attachment to financial concerns and focus on what matters most to you. You’re learning to listen to yourself more so that you can become more self-aware, compassionate with yourself, and more passionate about your endeavors without any regrets!!! By doing so, this will open the door for you to be able to relax a bit and watch as the fruits of your labor starts to come in. You may feel that you can have a new fulfilling offer in business or love that will bring a little more money in.

Gratefully, I see Balance coming to your life Pile 2. I see you being at peace after walking away from things that were making you unhappy and that you were possibly in denial or was being lied to about. In the near future, you will put forth the effort to free yourself of a dysfunctional household or career that has left you feeling stuck and angry.

PILE 3

Key identifiers:

* Currently healing; going through a transformation

* Ascending

* Intuitive

* Spiritual

* Protected

* Seeing 3 or 33 a lot

* Pink, green, and red may be of significance

There are many spirits surround you, Pile 3, that has been “dying” (*Dying- Get it*) to help you. You may have been feeling the need to stay in a space or mindset that wasn’t helping you, out of fear. But maybe, you’ve been feeling a pull to see what’s beyond the line you’ve drawn for yourself? Let your spirit continue to guide you in the path that was set for you by your soul.

Pile 3, have you been focusing on healing lately? Have you been trying to give yourself more love? Have you been prioritizing yourself more lately? Congratulations! You are healing.

Previously, you may have been a bit codependent and unable to provide for self due to a dysfunctional upbringing, but now, you may be singing a different tune as you start to feel that you will be receiving a wish that will leave you feeling emotionally fulfilled. You’re done fighting yourself and ready to stand up for what you believe you deserve.

In the past, you didn’t feel ready to change and go through an Ego death to ascend. You may have let fear make you think you weren’t ready or that the world was out to get you, but you’ve grown now. You know that’s not true.

You may have faced loneliness on your healing journey, and felt like turning your back on the right thing out of confusing. But with patience, you found your peace. You found your balance. In the past, you may have gaslit yourself a bit due to unrealistic expectations, which kept you from changing. Congratulations on your growth. Either you have already found it, or you’re about to Pile 3, which will bring in exciting new prosperous opportunities that can have you healing and relaxing while the dough rolls in.

📍Drop a comment and let me know what pile resonated with you! 😘

[stolasdearest]

hi! I have now been thinking about the lack of people to own overlords, so, I have an idea. imagine an overlord reader who's older the zestial, using Vox as a side table. like, vox was being cocky and a brat, so, they forced Vox to kneel beside their chair, turn his head up, and just place a stack of books on his flat ass face. hell, maybe Vox could start begging after hours in the position, and reader is like, "You were ungrateful as a pet, so, a side table will have to do.

welp, thanks for reading my rant!

Vox x Reader˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

ׂׂૢ pairing : Vox x Reader

ׂׂૢ cw : Not proofread, Author being out of practice.

ׂׂૢ Reader is Gender neutral

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Being an Overlord was a big deal, Money, Safety, fame. People were afraid of you, respected you; every single overlord had an image, a persona and a facade to keep up, something that kept people at arms distance. Never seem weak or vulnerable, people will jump at any opportunity to see you fall. People will berate you, belittle you and ridicule you to make you step down; everyone considered a mere peon would kill to become one of the Sinners on top.

Vox was once one of those Sinners. Envy and jealousy were the only things he felt, wanting to be strong, feared, respected. And he, begrudgingly; came to you, one of the biggest and baddest overlords hell had ever seen. You were cold, calculated and a prominent power for centuries. Everyone wanted to be you, Vox included..alas Vox came crawling and begging at your feet for advice, guidance; anything he could get his clawed fingers on and you delivered, not in the way he wanted but, "power is power" he thought. A simple contract signed, a hand shook and an understanding made. His soul was yours, and you had to simply lift a finger to skyrocket him into success, you watched him get stronger, striking fear and unease into lowly sinners, his powers and connections grew along with his Greed,pride,ego and self-Image.

Vox began speaking to you and treating you as if you were just another of his pathetically weak minded employees, a sly grimace plastered on your face as you let the slip ups happen, making him forget who owns him, who he belongs to until finally you have had enough, which was today; calling him into your living room you flicked through your phone, hearing his heels clack on the floor up to the room, his cool facade waning as he walked closer and closer. The realization of who you were suddenly dawned on him for the first time in a while.

He knocked on the door, patiently, nervously waiting for your response

"come in."

Vox adjusted his tie and stepped in, his eyes quickly scanning the room and your body language, were you in a bad mood? What was happening here? Unease further setting in when you were unreadable to him, he cursed himself for hanging around such emotional and brash people like his Fellow Vee's, now he couldn't see what you had planned. You snapped your fingers and pointed to the side of your leather chair.

"right here, on all fours"

Vox felt a pulling in his chest, his hands getting sweaty and clammy immediately and his breath got stuck in his throat, he hesitantly walks over and does as told, getting on his hands and knees he lightly flinched feeling your phone being placed on his back. His mind racing as to what you have planned or even what's currently happening as he looks at the clean, pristine floor, you voice forever ringing in his ears.

"you've been really, really bad. I'm above you, I always have been and I always will be. You need to relearn your place."

Your voice is as ever cold, malicious and mocking as it always has been, not an ounce or crumb of compassion or feeling lingering in your vocal cords. You stood up and grabbed a considerably thick book from a neat bookshelf you have had, books collected from places around hell. Before seating yourself back down you grabbed a nice glass of Neat whiskey, setting it onto Voxs head as you sat down, opening the pristine book from the very start.

"you are going to stay in this position till I finish this, if I hear that glass fall and break you'll be doing a lot more than sitting there like a dog."

Your voice sent shivers down his spine as he simply whimpered a "understood" before returning back to silence. Halfway through your book you hear the "overlord"s voice quietly whine and protest.

"My knees and elbows really hurt..ive— I've learnt my lesson can I please be done?"

Your eyes flick over to the shaking TV demon as he stays obediently as ever in the position he was in hours ago, dog earing the page you were on you slammed the book shut and swung it at the Whiskey glass, shiny glass shattering against the nearest wall as Vox felt the air of the book go by him.

"Tables, do not speak. So shut up, before I do it for you."

Authors note : I kinda hate this..I really hate this actually, but hello I think I'm back!!

Taglist : @anni1600 @d0nutsaur @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @k1y0yo

[saltwaterandstars]

I mentioned in a little comments conversation with @bookhobbit that over the last year I've worked really hard on changing my relationship with my body (which had become totally medicalised after I developed long-term health problems). I said I'd write something about how I've gone about this, so here it is - a long post with brief medical details under the cut. This is not a post about what I think anyone else could or should do - I don't know what would be possible or helpful for anyone else. It's just a description of what I've been doing in response to a challenging aspect of my life.

Some background. I have several long-term health conditions, the most problematic being an autoimmune condition that causes muscle damage. If you can't get it into remission then it becomes a progressive disease, causing damage to the muscles that are needed to walk and lift things, and to control swallowing and breathing. So yeah, you want to get it into remission. I'm lucky in that I've responded to the immunosuppressants and the condition stays in remission or near enough as long as I take the meds, so my muscles are not getting massively damaged at the moment. But the meds have wrecked my stomach lining and intermittently do bad things to my liver, and the multiple muscle biopsies I needed to get a diagnosis have done other damage, and because of the meds, even in phases when the autoimmune condition is in remission, I still regularly have unpleasant symptoms. And when I take a break from the meds, the muscle damage starts again.

Relationship to my body. Since all this started a few years ago my life has felt like an endless stream of MRI scans, medications, biopsies, blood tests, injections, and rehab. And my body has come to feel like a collection of broken parts, just a heap of systems that don't work and feel bad and are frightening and exhausting. About a year ago I recognised that my relationship to my body had been completely changed by all this. I had come to see my body, to experience my body, as just a collection of medical problems and nothing more. And of course, that was being reinforced by the regular conversations I have to have with doctors about it all—dispassionate, diagnostic conversations about whatever bits of my body are currently failing to perform normally. I had come to experience my body as a bag of broken medical objects—and that is absolutely not the relationship I want to have with it. So, I decided to do what I could to change that relationship.

How I went about changing my relationship with my body. What I can’t change is the fact that I have long-term health conditions and that means symptoms and treatments to varying degrees for the rest of my life. I can’t change the fact that there are parts of my body, whole systems, that just don’t work well. But what I had to recognise is that my body is not merely that; I am not merely that. And knowing intellectually that I am more than a collection of symptoms was not enough. I needed to retrain my attentional habits to notice more than just medical stuff. And I needed to start treating my body as more than just medical stuff.

I’m lucky that I have some personal resources that I could lean on to do this:

I’m a (non-theist) pagan and I’m used to using ritual to turn towards painful experiences and explore them and set specific intentions about them

I have a decades-long history of mindfulness practice

I am a determined, obstinate creature!

This is what I did.

1. I made a ritual about the issue. I cast a circle and lined the circle with objects and pictures that represented my imaginary gang (Patti Smith, Kate Bush, Natasha Khan, Mary Oliver, and Hilary Mantel, in case you’re wondering!) I sat in the middle of the circle and told the ladies the story of what had happened—of how ill I was and how medicalised my body had become and how sad and lost and frightened I felt about it all. I stated my intention to the gang: to reclaim my physical, animal self—to relearn how to experience my physical self as more than a selection of medical problems; to treat my physical self as more than a medical problem. I listed some of the ways I could view and experience my body that were not about it being a broken medical object. I made a commitment to myself and to the gang to weave this practice into my daily life, and then to show that I was serious about the commitment, I acted on it in the ritual by putting on lots of temporary tattoos and jewellery—treating my body as something to be adorned and celebrated rather than just medicalised. I finished by having a little feast, thanking the gang, and closing the circle.

For me, a ritual like this acts as a clarifying lens and also as a crucible in which to form new behavioural habits. And I use the memory of the ritual as a support when I’m trying to act on my commitment day in, day out, and maybe struggling.

2. I put myself on an attention training programme. By that I mean that following the ritual, every time I noticed that I was focussed/fixated/ruminating on a symptom or some other aspect of my body-as-a-medical-object I would ask myself two questions:

Is there any reason why continuing to focus narrowly on this medical issue/body part right now is going to be helpful? (It was rarely helpful). I would then wish the body part well and would shift to the second question:

In addition to this medical issue/struggling body part, what else is my body right now? I’d make myself broaden out my attention to include the whole of my body (including but not limited to the body part or symptom I’d been fixating on), to be able to respond to this question based on direct, sensory experience: This is a body that’s wearing yellow socks with puffins on them. This is a body that’s feeling the breeze coming in through that open window and enjoying the sensation. This is a body that smells of pears from my favourite shower gel. This is a body that’s tired. This is a body that’s feeling hungry. This is a body that feels restless. This is a body that's listening to Chaka Khan and has an urge to dance.

Over the last year I have intentionally, thousands of times, acknowledged my body’s struggles and symptoms and then I've widened the field of my attention to notice what else my body is, what else it can experience, what else it means to me, what it is as a whole. I have trained myself, one tiny practice at a time, to reconnect with a wider, fatter, richer sense of what my body is, of who I am as an embodied creature. Of course, my attention is still pulled to pain and nausea and symptom-focussed worry etc. but I don’t get caught up in those things for as long as I used to, and I notice the non-medical stuff quicker and more frequently than I did.

3. As per the commitment I made in the ritual, I have begun (again) to treat my body as more than just a collection of medical problems that need treatment. Specifically, I have worked on changing my role/behaviour towards my body from that of merely nurse/physio. For me this has included (at different times) adorning it with temporary tattoos that make me smile, feeding it foods it really likes, wearing perfume, wearing clothes in colours I love, singing round the house, massaging my hands and feet, seeking more cuddles etc. from my husband, dancing when I feel able to, and really importantly to me, starting to have massages every six weeks or so that are utterly non-medical in nature. I still have to give myself injections and book blood tests and make myself have naps etc. but that’s not all I do in relation to my body now.

Given that my health conditions are going to be around for the rest of my life, I think these practices will also need to be around for the rest of my life, or at least for as long as I find them helpful.

This is already very long so I’m going to stop here, but I’m very happy to answer any questions about any of it - if anyone gets to the end and it's of interest :-)

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

No-Name's Learned Lessons

Lol I tried y'all. Welcome to the main antagonist of Space Don't Dictate Fate. And yes I mean antagonist not villain. Still figuring out stuff for this creature.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster2 @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums @vacantgodling (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

No Name had learned many things in it's years of life. Some later than any true alien like itself should've. It held no remorse towards such a fact. Nor did it deny some others had come to conclusions far earlier than itself. Though No Name was sure every long lived beast such as itself had to relearn these lessons.

Lessons like learning just how much mimicry one could use before freaking out the other. Picking apart just what fidgets and human ticks and odd behaviors made itself passable. Even humanoids— the offspring of an alien human pair— followed most human like behavior.

They gathered together. They fought together. They prayed to the remaining true aliens— monsters, is what half of them called us, that their human ancestors had killed.

And No Name had taken many forms through the years. It's matter buzzing impatiently beneath the skin it had molded, dark and unblemished. In this form it had been tall enough to come just above most people's stomach's. In this form he had brought light to No Name the god powerful enough to change it's perception and other's perceptions of you. Not yet passing itself as the god it had pushed onto others through fliers and wild ramblings in the public.

This religion was actively being created to protect itself. It had noticed it working well enough for others, seeing how many humans bowed in respect instead of pointing their guns. It had intended to find its kin in the process as well. And the humanoids with white's of their eyes inked dark from the presence of its people's lineage coursing through them.

It had learned how much easier it was to manipulate the humans with fragile lies. And the doubtful with half truths. And with short time it would be pushed as the leader of this soon to be religion. Pretending that it could bring down No Name to advise those brave enough to stick around, as if he wasn't No Name disguised. The premise humored itself as it humored the current followers of this process.

"While inducting one of our newest members, our god will take over my body. Likely killing me." No Name followed his statement with a hum.

"Who else will lead us? What if our god is angered by this?" A follower with inky black hair like No Name's eyes had questioned.

The follower had fallen into the much shorter being's arms. Weeping on their knees into their clothed chest. A lazy thumping of a clump of matter in its chest close enough to a heart. They had feared for their life. And desperation was easy enough to mislead No Name had discovered accidentally.

And much like then the true alien decided to sway their feelings, "Our god is no tyrant like the humans that oppress us. Our god is understanding. Will mourn my death with you."

No Name breathed in a deep breath on the day of planned release. Scratching at the shadow of a beard it hadn't fully figured out how to grow in this form. Taking a knee in front of the small crowd of people at the shore of the manmade water pit of this moon. The satellite body having been terraformed by human and humanoid alike. It hadn't seemed like a willing process from either party as the alien had remembered. Ignoring the chatter of the birds skating over the water.

Bowing it's head to touch the outreached hand of the newest member gathered their. A leanly muscled human with a large knife against their thigh, nothing more than curiosity bringing them here. The human having to hunch over a bit from the height disparity.

"Today we bring down No Name! Show it one of our newfound believers and mark them under the name of its religion!"

No Name spoke as if it couldn't get quite enough air in its lungs. Filled with excitement. It took gasping breaths between it's next words.

"Today we will be marked as more than a cult. More than just some ambition. They will see us as a religion just like any other!"

Its enthusiasm coursed through the crowd. Buzzing as incessantly as it's own matter. And today he would learn just how fragile humans could be.

No Name hadn't flinched and the unwavering attention on it as it rose to it's feet. Keeping the back of the human's head to it's forehead it grinned. Smile stretching a little too wide to be normal it pressed it's own hands against the human's chest, fingers pressing firmly against their sides.

"Our god of no name! Please come down to bless our young blood!"

The crowd was practically screaming now. It could feel the sweat from the human of the hour.

No Name pressed his hands firmly against the human yelling out a shakey yell of joy. Practically dissolving the form it had previously been in. Existing now as a loosely formed cloud of particles and smoke. Vaguely taking a human silhouette to aid in the viewing of himself. It hummed lowly as the high energy from loosing their form proceeded to mark the human's chest.

The human looked sickly, No Name had quickly realized through the roaring cries of the crowd. It pulled its hands away, releasing the appendages that had practically dug into the man.

It solidified further and wrapped its arms around them. Swaying the human in shock as it stared down at him. Feeling as they lost tension in their legs, unbreathing in No Name's hold. No Name nestled his face into the human's shoulder apologizing aloud to the dying man. As it rocked side to side on its feet as if easing the dead man.

"Two martyrs today and such adoring company. You are all followers of me?" Its voice buzzed with uncontrolled energy.

"Yes!" A voice yelled from the crowd, a person stepping forward, "What is our marking? What is your name?"

No Name looked to them, still holding the human. It hadn't remembered it's name. Hadn't needed too.

"You yourselves may name me," It stated slowly laying the human on the ground, away from the water lapping at the shore.

The human's chest had been seared into, an arc of pain covering it's chest. A similar gradient on their shoulders from No Name's nussling.

"Your marks will be in remembrance of your martyr. Shoulder or chest." It sank down now cradling the human's face in thought, "Bury them away from the shore mark the grave with a branch. We start a new."

No Name watched as they dragged the human away. The aggravating buzz of its matter becoming more apparent in its thoughts. It had been strong enough to kill a man. It hoped to not do so again, not because they didn't deserve it, but because it could mean the end of the brewing religion and safety.

It did its best to remember. Humans are fragile.

[craycray-wolf]

I er wrote an Omori thing

I hope you enjoy

🚨 SPOILERS btw 🚨

Sunny was blowing air at a pencil on his desk over and over. As it slid across the surface his breath pushed it back to its origin point. He wasn't quite sure what to do as he was bored and while contemplating his current state he became soothed by the rhythm of the pencil. Rain was pouring outside and Sunny'd become accustomed to the sound.

All of a sudden, an echoing BOOM resounded outside spooking him out of his chair. After a second on the ground in shock he realized what the intimidating sound was. Thunder. It was that moment he had the epiphany that he hadn't witnessed a thunderstorm in years. Well he would oftentimes hear them lying in bed during summer but would only return to his wallowing in misery by pulling the bedsheets further over himself. He hadn't truly experienced one since...

That summer. 4 years ago. He was in the background listening to Basil passionately inform him of the wonderous history of cameras and photography when the beginning of rain was felt on their heads- effectively halting his best friend's speech. The rain only increased its volume by the second forcing the pair to flee to the back porch. Sunny's mother and Mari requested a patio be added to their backyard the spring before, the two friends now thankful for the shelter. Sunny was disappointed at the sudden onslaught as he was watching with wide eyes a lovely ladybug crawling in the lush grass and the both of them were disrupted from their peace. He hoped the ladybug found shelter as well. Stupid storms, always ruining playtime and relaxation...

A small smile decorated the now 16 year old's face upon recalling the fond memory. The thunder brought Sunny back to the present and he wanted to go outside. He wanted to once again see a thunderstorm, practically tripping over himself as he raced to the door and flung it open. The smell of rain swirled in his nostrils as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the precious fresh air. Sure, maybe the city didn't have quite as fresh as air as Faraway but it didn't matter to Sunny. It'd always be revigorating to him, a stark and welcome contrast to the stale suffocating air of his bedroom back at his old house.

As luck would have it, the second he reopened his eyes a branch of lightning flashed across the sky and growled at the world below immediately after. Sunny gasped in awe, eye full of pure wonder. He no longer understood his child self's distaste of storms, they were beautiful, a glorious thing to behold. His mouth remained agape as the rain hit his hair and face, a chilling but pleasurable sensation. He was so so delighted to be alive, letting out a couple of laughs as he spread his arms wide.

He then hesitated for a second, pressing his lips together and nervously twirling his hoodie strings around his finger. Was he really allowed to be this happy? To see such wonderful things, breathe air that felt so great?

It could be difficult at times to come back to the conclusion- yes he was. Not only did he deserve good things any other human did...in fact Mari wanted it. He knew she did. That was how he would make it up to her, by living a life so full it'd be living for both of them. An attestment to her memory. She loved Sunny and always wanted the best for him- this love following her into the afterlife and his dreams.

He heard a voice deep down inside.

You were victorious against me, you accepted me and forgave yourself. You earned this, Sunny.

He overcame- and he chose this. To not survive but live. Live to see the storm and soak in every moment of it. A favorite choice of his. He now got to relearn the dance of life he had forgotten and buried alongside the painful Truth.

It hurt but it was the devil's deal. He was only but a husk without such a dance.

Now he'd remedy that and Sunny was happy for this second chance. Estatic, even! Just not manic as that was actually an unhealthy state he'd recently learned. Turned out dictionaries and literary educations weren't quite the best psychological sources. And this was another thing to add to the unending list of opportunities he was discovering, he was learning again. No longer was he stuck running alone in the same spot perpetually.

As Sunny took a deep breath to savor the present, inspiration struck him and he dashed back in to snatch his new sketchbook and colored pencil set his mother got him for his recent birthday. He mimicked Mincy's movements as sketches and colors flew across the page, breathing life into the white paper. Was this how she felt back when he and Kel saw her earlier this summer? No wonder she wanted to go to art school then.

As the thunderstorm concluded its visit Sunny put the finishing touches on his masterpiece- and a masterpiece it was! He was so proud of it. Somewhere nearby he was sure his beloved sister was too.

He couldn't wait to show it to his mom.

[dvchvnde]

On a quiet day, he can sometimes hear the lingering echo of his skull cracking inside his head. The ricochet of a bullet splitting apart skin, bone, and tissue as easily as cutting through soft bread. Carving out a hole through his temple, spilling blood, grey matter, viscera down the side of his face. It scalds him. 

He puts his head in his hands. Holds himself together. 

He wakes up screaming sometimes. 

Chest on fire. Burning him alive from the inside out. Head split in half. Agony ripping into the gaping hole where his temple caved in on itself. Corrosive acid to an open wound. He's dying, dead—

“Wake up, wake up, Johnny—”

—or some awful version of it. 

It takes him several minutes swimming through blinding panic to find a buoy to cling to as the murky tide recedes back out into the open ocean. The drag of it, the currents, threatening to pull him along for the ride. Leave his sputtering, bloated corpse for the carrion to pick clean. For the sharks to saw chunks of flesh off his flanks. Devoured. Pieces of himself floating down to the bottom of the seafloor like gleaming marine snow. 

Whalefall made of man. 

He kicks out against the unseen predators lurking in the depths until his muscles grow weak, and tired. 

It's in this fatigue that the horizon looms into view. Land within reach. He swims for it—

Clarity comes to him on a lonely beach. The coarse sand turns to starchy, wet sheets. Drenched in sweat. Clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. 

He's not drowning. Not dying. 

Alive—somehow. 

And then—

The nurses are there, eyes set. Jaw clenched. They whisper hushed words of comfort to him as he relearns how to breathe through blood-soaked lungs. Hands pushing, pressing. Keeping him down, locked tight to the bed. 

Don't move. You're fine. Don't move. 

You've been shot in the head. It's a miracle you're not dead. Please don't move—

“Give him more—”

“Sedate him—”

Sir, you've been shot in the head. You're in shock. Relax. You need to—

And then the tide comes back. Drags him under. 

[elvenbeard]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Yes I'm actually doing this on a Wednesday wooo :D

I just went back through all my tags of the last month and man, you guys ;__; <3 I'm not good at keeping up with tumblr atm and I don't have something to share every week, so I think once a month a WIP Wednesday might be a good compromise XD Thank you for all the tags!!

@theviridianbunny @dreamskug @ouroboros-hideout @lokiina @therealnightcity @chevvy-yates tagging you all right back!

So, with that off of my list of works in progress, as is answering all the tag games and quizzes, some projects I'm working on atm:

Writing: Love is stored in the olive jar (WT) - Chapter 13

It's done, but still needs a lot of editing, as it got very heavy on dialogue in the end and I want it all to flow more nicely and make it a bit more scenic XD Too many instances of "she looked up again" or "he paused for a moment/second" xD But I'm getting there! Here's a snippet from the already somewhat polished beginning:

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.” “Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.” “Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing now to tell me more about your condition now, of course.” ‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would use, it was more a necessity at this point. “I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.” Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed. “You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…” “I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but significantly more tense than before. “Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell random strangers on the street… no offense, of course. If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

In which Vince hates doctors but has to trust one now, boo XD

Writing: Some drabbles :3

Inbetween the longfic I still have some ask prompt drabbles to fill that I'm looking forward to tackling soon! And in a sudden burst of inspiration I wrote out a long although not very serious convo between Vince and Johnny the other day xD I'd love to turn it into a (VP) comic maybe, but I'm not sure yet XD

Art: Nothing new since last time, slowly chipping away at some bigger projects inbetween

VP: Currently no concrete plans for a bigger project

Although I wanna do more "days in the life" for Vince!! And I wanna play around more with some poses though and have a very soft set to share that I gotta edit a bit still ;_; Tomorrow probably!

Also, I'd like to turn the interface thingies from my recent "V as NPC" projects into shareable templates, that is also on my wip/ to-do list! Just wanna gather some in-game reference shots first :D

Modding: 👀👀👀

I'm working on a little something maybe, and I'm so excited :DDD Just gotta relearn how to do Archive XL, it's been half a year xD And I fought MLSetup Builder so fucking hard, but now I know how to edit MLMask Setups, so that's a victory at least XD And I have a base for a very kitschy coat :3

But yes, so much to that so far! See you again in a month or so probably with an ever-growing pile of wips xD But maybe some more writing, maybe some more art, and maybe a finished mod after too long 👀

[dreamersbcll]

“People don’t change people, time does”

-whumptober, prompt no. 20

(sam & the core four relearning each other after 5)

——————————————————————————

Step nine. Making direct amends to people whenever possible, except when doing so would injure them or others.

That step always cut Sam down by the knees. She could always get so far, get so many days clean, but the minute she had to confront her past self, all bets were off. Besides, she knows her past self. Those eyes follow her every time she looks in a mirror; those scarred hands shine in the sunlight. Everything about her current body is from the past, except for her brain, which is newly focused on the future.

The future. Her life now, after Woodsboro. After the blood, gore, death. Now, in a new state across the country. She was in a brand new world.

She couldn’t fuck up it anymore. She has Tara back and the twins, too, and she knows in order to keep them all, she has to stay present. It was time to confront the ninth step and overcome all of her wrongdoings and all of her past failures.

Yet there wasn’t a right way to do it, especially now. She was working night and day, therapy and AA meetings sprinkled in, all things to keep her on track. Because of that, she wasn’t present for much in their new apartment- the decorating, the furniture building, the cleaning. To be fair, she had to pay her and Tara’s bills and make on-time payments for Tara’s upcoming semester at Blackmore University. She was booked.

Luckily for her, Chad gave her an open invitation to reconcile with the kids at one of their mandatory weekly dinners.

Mindy had cooked some beef and broccoli dish, the smell dragging Sam into the apartment after a long day in the kitchen. She barely sat down and dug in before the room around her was alive with conversation.

Admittedly, Sam had tuned out for most of the conversation until Mindy asked a question.

“Sam? You there?” the girl called, waving her fork in front of Sam’s face.

Blinking, Sam swallowed, acutely aware of everyone's attention on her. “Uh, what?”

Tara and Mindy rolled their eyes playfully, Chad just snorting silently. Mindy tossed a piece of broccoli at Sam’s face, freezing when it bounced off her nose—as if Sam would reach over and slap her for the action.

Sam cocked her head at the girl’s reaction but gently picked the piece of food out of her hair and popped it in her mouth. “All good. What’s your question?” she soothed, smiling easily at Mindy.

Mindy smiled, her features relaxing. “I was asking what you thought about the new decorations all over,” she gleefully said, gesturing to the walls.

Looking around, Sam took in the new decorations. LED lights lit up the hallway with posters of random bands that Sam couldn’t recognize. She didn’t even know who liked which band, her heart twisting at her lack of knowledge of the kids she raised. On the wall to her right was a drawing, a bunch of lilies. Tara’s drawing.

Clearing her throat, Sam put on a big smile, knowing that the girls were waiting with bated breath for Sam’s approval. “I mean, I love the way you decorated the place. It looks way nicer than the last time I saw it. Nice touch on the posters and Lillies.”

Tara blushes, ducking her head down. “Thanks, Sam”

Mindy leans forward, grinning wide. “I know. I wasn’t sure about the whole poster situation, but for now, we’re thinking about adding fairy lights and maybe a crystal ball-”

“So what’s different this time?” Chad interrupts, dropping his fork onto his plate.

The noise makes all three jump in their seats as Chad straightens up, a scowl on his face. Sam takes in everybody’s faces, her eyes narrowing on their expressions. Tara’s eyes dart around nervously, her eyes surveying the incoming fight between her best friend and her big sister. Mindy looks uncomfortable with Chad’s sudden rashness, but refuses to make eye contact with Sam. The boy who started this conversation of hostility stares directly at Sam, his features calm but his eyes stormy.

Sam reaches for her glass of sparkling cider and takes a long sip. She’s not stupid— she knows Chad is gearing up for a fight. And in a way, it’s warranted, as Sam had used all three kids as toys, picking them up and playing with them and discarding them when she was bored. She knows that she had taken her time using and forgetting them, all to come back around to promise that she was doing better. That the medication, rehab, and NA sessions were working. She knows they are right to assume that perhaps this won’t last.

But before she can answer, perhaps defend herself, Tara beats her to the punch.

Softly, Tara speaks, her voice wobbling. “Chad?”

The boy sits back in his seat, his eyes flickering between the sisters. “Come on, Tara. You know the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting-”

Nodding, Sam interrupted his speech. “-Expecting different results. Right. I get it, Chad. I do.”

She sighs, wiping her hands on her napkin and breathing out slowly. “I know it looks like the same thing over and over. But consistency and repetition aren’t insanity. Being smacked out of my mind or scrounging around in the streets? That’s insanity.”

Chad looked down at his plate, sucking his teeth. “Yeah, of course.”

Sam looks around the table, noticing how Mindy stares at her plate, her fork hovering over her salad, and Tara, her eyes on Sam, unwavering. She knows Chad is staring hard at his plate, his fists clenched around the table's edge; because she was doing the same. It was uncomfortable for all, confronting the past. It would be easier to sweep it under the rug and walk around the lump for the rest of their lives.

But Sam was three years sober today. She wouldn’t pretend anymore that her actions didn’t leave scars, especially not on the people she loved most.

“That’s what recovering is, you know. It’s pretty much the definition of insanity. You do everything repeatedly, despite the result, the plateau, or a full fucking relapse,” she forces out, her mouth feeling slightly funny.

She licked her lips, forcing herself to make the amends that were years in the making. “I mean, it doesn't mean you stop even if it gets a little repetitive.”

“One day at a time. One morning after another. One more evening, again and again. When we- addicts - decide to clean, it isn’t because it’s fucking exciting or a fucking party,”

She licks her lips, her fingers tightening around the table's edge. All eyes were on her, and she could only bare her soul. “We do it because there’s something more. Something better out there. Something that no drug or drink can ever replicate. Something like you guys,” she softly tails off.

Tara’s eyes flicker up to meet Sam’s, glassy with tears. There’s hope, shining past the tears, the doubt, the pain. Hope that Sam means it, hope that Sam will stay.

A part of Sam wants to reach out and tug Tara into a hug. She wants to hold her little sister close to her heart, not let go, and remind her that she is here now.

But they weren’t there yet. They weren’t ready. They haven’t even finished their first month in New York. It was much too early to initiate their old routine or rekindle their old way of living and loving.

Instead, Sam gently grasps Tara's hand and squeezes it tightly, an action not lost on the twins either. Her sister allowed Sam’s contact, hesitating a few seconds before squeezing back.

Looking over at the twins, she nods at Mindy, who nods back, wiping away a tear from her eye. Chad unclenches his jaw and relaxes slowly. Everybody slowly backs down, and the conversation slowly picks up again, forks squeaking against plates, laughs, and smiles bubbling.

And there in that dingy dining room, previously burned bridges crumbled, ashes spread across their feet. But from ashes, life could grow. People could get better. Things could change.

At least, Sam hopes.