#doomed to explode into beautiful pieces

[creationofacentury]

@bdoubleo420 @kojitheopossum this two lovely people hide in the tags of reblog. Thank you for your responses, I appreciate them!!!!

random question for ethubsers but what’s your definition of ethubs? like how do you interpret it? was writing a fic and then i was hit by a realization that i might not actually understand their dynamic

(note: yes i’m talking about their mc personas)

[aventoru]

falling

character : itoshi rin

warning(s) : childish behavior lmao, idiots in love ig, pretty rushed but like-

a/n : not really a repost from my old blog because i was shadow banned when i posted this=))

The bell rings, signaling the end of your class and the start of lunchtime. You and your best friend walk to your locker to put away your textbooks before heading to the cafeteria. Most of the students are already getting their lunch and there was not a single soul in the hallway. Or so you both thought.

After placing the textbooks in your lockers and shutting the doors, you two happen to catch sight of none other than Itoshi Rin as you were heading to get lunch yourselves. Usually, during lunchtime, Rin would be practicing soccer on the field outside but he seems to be idly scrolling through his phone today. (Well, it’s not like that’s any of your business.)

Itoshi Rin, as far as you're concerned, is a soccer superstar with…a cold demeanor. To put it bluntly, he has no friends. You wish you were kidding when you say so, but it’s common knowledge amongst the student body at this point. Sure, he was popular and many people admire him for his talents, but it was so difficult to get him to even speak that others just gave up trying to befriend him in general.

That didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him, though. He’s been your table mate for the past 2 years of high school and it’s hard not to take notice of his stupidly pretty face everyday. Sometimes, you envy RIn for not only having a perfect physique but also beauty as well. How do his bangs fall so naturally over his eyes? Why are his eyelashes so long? Why are his cheeks so puffy? You can't help but blush every time his features come into your field of vision.

Your friend, upon obtaining this precious piece of information, teases you every chance they get. And today is no exception.

Your friend suddenly stops you and mischievously wraps their arm around yours, pulling you in Rin’s direction. “Uhh…why are we heading towards him?” you pause in your tracks, turning to your friend in confusion. “I’m gonna help you confess your feelings to him!” your friend beams, eyes twinkling. “WHAT??” you whisper-shout, not wanting to catch Rin’s attention.

You pull your friend in the opposite direction, trying to stall the impending doom settling on you. But you were no match for their unearthed strength and will to get you to confess. After all, they've been your #1 shipper for as long as you could remember. Once you got close enough to him, you friend pushes you in Rin’s direction, causing you to collide directly with his body. His head shoots up at the sudden contact and he quickly catches you in his arms with his godly athlete reflexes.

In that moment, you don’t know what to feel. You are flustered that your crush was holding you in his arms yet mad at your friend for putting you in this situation. Rin surely isn't making it easier for you to think straight with his firm grip on your body. As a spontaneous decision, you’ve decided to deal with your friend first then explain the situation to Rin later in class. You quickly realize that if you don’t escape from Rin’s grasp and the awkward tension building up in the air, you actually might explode.

Unfortunately, when you turn your head back to shout at your friend, they’ve already rushed down the hallway, their echoes reverberating against the floor. “Thank me later!” is all that echoed from the hallway as your friend escapes your seething wrath. You try to remove yourself from Rin’s arms to chase after them only to be tugged back into his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s not your fault they played dirty” he chuckles and you can feel the deep vibrations through his toned chest. You smile politely and successfully back away this time. “Oh- right, I’m sorry,” you bow your head in apology. “I’m glad you’re okay but why did your friend do that...?” Rin hesitantly inquired. “Uhmm it’s nothing, just a harmless prank, that’s all,” you murmur quickly, hoping to gloss over the topic.

Rin already knows about your crush on him. It’s pretty obvious considering the way you stare at him in class everyday. You’re not a subtle as you think when your attention is on him instead of on the teacher. He knows you pretend to be stupid to get him to help you on those practice questions (and he plays along). He knows you’re the one who keeps leaving snacks and drinks on his desk with a cute little sticky note. Long story short, he knows everything. He just wants to see how far he can go before the dam bursts and you admit your feelings to him. Surprisingly for him, he doesn't have to go that far.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, considering I'm the only person in this entire area? And what’s with the ‘thank me later'? Just tell me what’s wrong y/n,” Rin pretends to get mad at you as he stares at you coldly.

You make the mistake of glancing into his eyes and immediately fold under his intense gaze. You're pretty certain of the inevitable outcome of getting rejected so, there’s nothing for you to be afraid of at this point. “I-it’s because I have a crush on you and my friend was trying to tease me, sorry for disturbing you bye—” you cut yourself off and start backing up away from him. But before you can get too far, Rin tugs on your arm and you fall into his body again. Your face comes in direct contact with his built chest and now you’re really confused. Why is Rin pulling you against him every chance he gets?

A beat of silence passes as you wait for him to say something. “Thank god,” he sighs as he wraps his arms around you and practically encases you against his body. “Huh?” you mumble, your voice muffled by his shirt. You lift your face up to look at him, your chin coming in contact with his shoulder. Rin holds you in his grasp and looks down at you with absolute adoration in his eyes. “I like you too, silly,” he whispers. Your eyes widen in initial surprise but wrap your arms around him nonetheless. You think your heart is about to burst at how gentle he is with you. Your last straw comes in the form of the gentle kiss that he places on your head. Blood rushes up to your cheeks and you nuzzle your face into his chest out of sheepishness, to which he chuckles at in amusement. You two stay in each others arms for a long time.

You definitely have your friend to thank for.

…

“You know, you aren’t really slick when you stare at me in class right?” he teases you as you two walk to lunch together hand in hand.

“Hey!!!”

[folkookie97]

❝fighting for our love❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝Jungkook always hated arguing with you. But your relationship was doomed to this habit since you rejected his wedding proposal.❞

— PAIRING: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

— TYPE: angst | non-idol!au, established relationship

— WORD COUNT: 585

— WARNINGS: argument, couple issues, ambiguous/open ending (?), curse words

— NOTES: maybe Seven's MV teaser drove me crazy and i wrote this shit almost crying.

— RELEASE DATE: July 13, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3, wattpad, spirit fanfics

Jungkook wasn't a contentious person. What he looked up to the most in his life was tranquility; he hated being surrounded by conflicts. Arguments stressed him out and even gave him an intense migraine. It was almost as if his head could explode at any moment. He always felt like his head would explode at any moment during these situations.

The habit of arguing with other people surely has never been present in his life. However the past few months triggered his mind with an almost masochistic habit. A sudden change in his routine accustomed him to disagreements and made him competent when he needed to defend his point of view.

Jungkook always hated arguing with you. But your relationship was doomed to this habit since you rejected his wedding proposal.

"Can you at least look at me while we're arguing?" You gestured impatiently and let the silverware fall onto your still full plate.

For the first time that night, Jungkook brought his deer-like eyes directly to the woman. Her delicate face looked so pretty with the flush on her chubby cheeks and the slightly parted lips; a consequence of your breathlessness.

You looked so fucking beautiful that Jungkook almost felt guilty for his mean behavior that night.

Just almost.

"We're not arguing. You are." He calmly sipped the wine that had been served just a few minutes before.

"You must be fucking kidding me." A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clenched fists to refrain punching your boyfriend's face.

"I'm not." Jungkook shrugged after putting the glass of wine back on the table. "Have I ever been a bad boyfriend to my darling before?"

His rhetorical question carried such a bitter tone that it instantly made you feel nauseous.

Your stomach hurts as much as your heartbroken. Intrusive thoughts about flipping over every table and smashing every piece of the restaurant flooded your mind as you noticed a smile on Jungkook's lips.

You knew it wasn't appropriate to get angry in public. However your boyfriend's expression carried a sarcastic acidity that made you consider losing your first offender stabbing his tattooed hand.

"You're a fucking asshole."

"Seriously? I'm an asshole for not fighting with you?"

You overwhelmed by Jungkook's sadistic insolence under the curious gazes of the other customers.

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE FOR NOT FIGHTING FOR OUR FUCKING RELATIONSHIP!"

An absolute silence settles in the establishment as your scream comes to an end.

The mocking expression fades from Jungkook's face as the absence of sound takes over. He allows himself to stare at you with wide eyes and noticing dense tears flowing down your cheeks.

Jungkook knew he had no right to wipe away your tears when he was the one who made you cry. Despite everything the desire to comfort you in his arms never leaves his heart.

Jungkook remains seated when you curses at him in a pained whisper and walks towards the restroom. Time passes while he recalls about the past few months and regrets all his choices that brought your love to ruin.

He wished he hadn't proposed to you during a family dinner.

He wished he hadn't gotten angry when you said you weren't ready to get married yet.

He wished he had understood your reasons.

He wished he hadn't been a terrible boyfriend to you because of his wounded ego.

Jungkook wished never to argue again with the woman he loved so much.

Jungkook would fight for your love. He would fix it.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Feanorian Sibling Shenanigans Short Fic

Maglor’s eyes were shiny with tears though they were truly more due to his appreciation for how romantic a story his brother’s torment made than sympathy towards him.

This was proven when even as he leaned forward, his entire upper body now precariously dangling off the side of the bed to reach where Caranthir was nestled on the rug in about seven separate shawls and furs, and cupped his brother’s face in his hands he expounded, with rather too much joy, how moving he found it.

‘Oh Moryo, that’s so beautiful, the tragic unrequited love of an elven lord for a mortal woman, the thematic parallels with the doomed nature of-’

Caranthir looked as if he was about to explode of mortification and rage both, his face flushed bright red as he bit out a retort at his still cooing brother, ‘Maglor if you write a song about this I will strangle you in your sleep.’

Maglor held his hand to his heart and widened his eyes with melodramatic innocence. ‘I would never!

Maedhros interjected dryly with a raised eyebrow and weary expression while holding Maglor’s feet to avoid him accidentally pitching forward and tumbling head first on to the ground, ‘Oh you’d never write and circulate a ballad about one of your brother’s personal lives wouldn’t you Makalaure?’

Maglor quickly replied, ‘No one knows that song was about you and Fingon. I didn’t name any names.’ Maglor had nonetheless known exactly what ballad had been referred to without hesitation.

Curufin scoffed, elbowing Celegorm in the stomach so he could detangle himself enough to face them. ‘The edain know that song was about Maedhros and Fingon.’

This prompted a cacophony of inputs into how completely and utterly blatant that particular piece of lyrical genius had been about who it alluded to and how completely and utterly blatant the two lords in question were without any assistance whatsoever.

‘You know I mentioned your name in dealings with some of the men in Hithlum and their first response was to ask if you were his wife or husband because it didn’t seem polite to ask-’

‘I think we shouldn’t just let Maglor off the hook so easily, yes he wasn’t really revealing anything everyone didn’t already know about but I think some of those innuendoes lacked taste even by his standards-’

‘Thank you Curufin! Finally someone on my side here!’ Maedhros stilled for a moment and frowned, meeting Curufin’s eyes who had an almost identical look of complete confusion on his face.

‘Well those are words I never fought I’d say in such close succession.’

Curufin wrinkled his nose as if rethinking all his life choices up until that point.

Maglor exclaimed something off his usual script about how no one appreciated the true art of music in this family leading Celegorm to finally shove him on to the rug. He tumbled off with an almighty screech as Amrod and Amras cheered Celegorm on through fits of giggles. Things only escalated from there.

[chaoticxbeast]

Chasing Shadows: A Little Brother's Quest

«We haven’t been back here in a while, brotha.» Bebop said to Rocksteady, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

«OW. Dunno bout you, but I sure missed this place.» Rocksteady said, and punched him back.

«OW. I miss it so much, it’s pissing me off brotha. It’s beautiful here. I love the smog. The lighting. It’s a MOOD..And the memories..The memories make me MAD.»

«Yeah I feel like crushing something! You know? Man I’m ANGRY.»

Michelangelo listened to the Bebop and Rocksteady chatting back and forth about their emotions, while he was bottling up his own hurt. His brothers were gone.

They’d been missing for days. Nobody knew anything, and the only clue he had was the sos signal that was lost a few days ago at the bronx, and one text from Leo.

Superfly.

That was all it said.

Mikey grieved. The feeling of being left behind, completely clueless and lost, was not unfamiliar to him.  But right now, it was stronger than ever. 

«I wanna crush something too, you guys.»  Mikey said, voice cracking under the strain of his suppressed anger, and pain.

The two big mutants stopped and looked at him. 

«Yea!? You angry lil’ toad?»  

«Stop calling me that.» Mikey snapped. «I’m not a little toad!»

«Hokey…lil' brotha? That better?» 

«Lil’ dude.» Bebop teased.

Mikey’s face scrunched into an angry frown. Was he doomed to be the runt all his life? These guys were just doing the same as his older brothers were doing. Mikey felt his hurt and anger flare up, and he clenched his fists and yelled. «Quit it!!  I’m not a kid!» 

«Ohh he’s angry. Nice!! Makes you feel nice n’ strong don’t it.» 

«Yeahh be MAD lil’ brotha. Be MAD.»

Be mad? Yea..he was mad. Mikey’s face grew furious, as he watched the who giant mutants leading the way infant of him. Ohh yeah he was mad. He was gonna get those people who took his brothers. Get em back. Beat em good! The two looked back at the turtle, and nodded to each other. «Oh yeah he's MAD.»

«Lesse. We can find that feels real good to smash! Something that goes CRASH with a BIG C» Bebop said, looking around them. 

«Yeah! Here.» Rocksteady picked up some old bottles from the ground, and gave one to the grieving, angry little turtle. 

«Crush it lil' brotha. Throw it as hard as you can against that big ol’ sign over there.» 

Mikey tossed the bottle in his hand a few times, flipping it once, twice, before sending it flying at the sign with all the strength he had. The bottle exploded as it hit the sign, and the three covered from the shattering fragments.

«Yeah!.. Nice!! That felt good, didn’t it?» Bebop grinned, looking back at Mikey. « Nice arm you got. Try again!»

Mikey took a deep breath, and grabbed another bottle, tossing it in his hand a few times, before sending it hurling into a big pile of scrap metal. It smashed into little pieces with a loud crash. 

«SUPAFLYY!!!!!!» Bebop roared, voice booming like a cannon causing Mikey and Rocksteady to stagger off to the side holding their ears.

«You sure he’s here?» Mikey said as he recovered, and glanced around cautiously, wondering if they were dead meat coming here. They were not exactly on good terms last time.

«I don't know.» Bebop replied cooly, walking on. "Sure felt good yellin' tho!!!"

«But if he is back..he is here. And we need him.» Rocksteady replied, and bebop nodded, smiling. His brother was so smart! 

«I'm gonna get real mad when I see him though. OR real happy. OR both.» 

«I bet.» Bebop replied. 

«But that’s natural brotha.He's our BIG brotha after all. And I dunno about you. But my heart's hurting.»

«Me too..» Rocksteady said, softly.

«Me three..» Mikey said, following close behind.» 

@eievuimultimuse

[ringleaderising]

ringleader how do the emperors work in your lore? the godfall blurb mentioned luminax being chained up?

I was confused about this for a second because I could have sworn I didn't but then I realized I made a punctuation/phrasing mistake that could have been interpreted that way and this is why "No betas we die like men" is a philosophy I live by but cannot recommend to others.

You're definitely referring to this portion:

"And as dim, shadowy blue opens in the sky above, the massive form of a Guardian explodes from inside with a great roar- like a parasite clawing its way from within a host and as big as Luminax some distance away, bound in glittering, golden chains. Great braziers hung on massive wings spill ash and dust as they spread wide- and the flames within snuff suddenly- the already darkened streets of the Hewn City below now cast in inky, magical blackness."

Which refers to Encore as being bound in gold chains and lit by braziers, as that's how he looked before being removed from The Host. The presence of Luminax in the passage was for a size comparison alone, as they were still roaming freely across the Wake during the course of the Godfall into the Hewn City.

But with that clarified, I have actually done some things with the concept in the lore of The Gaplands.

In my lore, Emperors are still absolutely a thing that you don't wanna fuck about with- and absolutely the fallout of Lightweaver's impatience and folly as a young god creating things without foresight. In fact, my Cyber-Western lore 'clan's' story (all sorted under my "The Wicked Dig" tab in my lair) Hinges upon the presence of a massive emperor formed from one single mother/father lineage, Mithos and Impressa.

Their offspring, all doomed to die and join the beast known as The Child beneath the depths of Dragonhome within a tomb known as The Calcite Cradle are my lore's most prevalent emperor, with exception of Luminax being within on-site lore and therefore present since I do use site lore but iterated upon for the Gaplands.

Currently, The Child has 19 heads, and I add more each time I breed these two for fodder, they're represented in my lair via Fool, who's bio holds my present count of offspring, and their offspring lists include only 2 kinds of dragon: Fool itself, and fodder offspring all named "TheChild". Given its sheer size and relatively subterranean presence, The Child doesn't do much more than sleep, lying dormant in a beautiful, ornate prison-con-cradle created by its grieving mother out of her former kingdom- who's deal with a member of The Host is what cursed her bloodline to not even a chance at life outside of the beast.

I'm not 100% certain if the idea of an emperor, as it gets larger and larger having more and more difficulty functioning is site lore or something that I simply decided made sense, ages ago??? but it applies to The Child, 100%. and the reason The Wicked Dig's story goes so south is because in their desperation to discover (and plunder) the lost city, they disturbed its tomb, awakening it instead of simply letting it lie comatose and rotten as it had been for centuries.

And someday I hope to find a dragon I like to represent Hope Adder Enterprises' Grand Amalgam- essentially the parts and pieces of the W.A.R.D.E.N. units that were removed for their augmentations forming into something new.

[imm0rtalbutterfly]

Jealous Of The One Thing I'll Never Get To Have

Date Posted: 9/18/24

Beta read: Kind of?

Summary:

"The sight of their phone on the floor gave Neon some insight, but she wanted to hear it from them. Not the screen. With a shaky breath and a hand running through their hair trying to straighten out the mess of it, they'd begun to speak. “I will never get older.” They said their voice was shaking as they fought the urge to cry again. “Gods this is stupid. I’m sorry.” They watched Neon frown. “It's not stupid. I wanna know, I wanna help.” She gestured for them to keep talking, they wiped their eyes on the sleeve of their shirt." or Clove doom scrolls really bad and has a panic induced breakdown over all these anti aging videos they keep seeing on their phone. Neon finds them sobbing over it.

Other notes: Hyperfixation so strong it threw me headfirst into being a fanfic author again. The author curse is strong but I prevail(die). Enjoy <3

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

Immortality was fine. Useful, even at the best of times, but mostly it was tedious. They were immortal but not invincible, and  it hurt like hell to get hit, to die, to come back. The very thought that they will not age haunted them for so long, the very idea that they won't get to experience the way their body should naturally deteriorate was almost disappointing, there were of course things they were grateful for like the fact that, Clove could push themselves harder than they should because of it, simply because they could. Their bones would never brittle and their muscles would never snap so long as they took care of themselves. They would be on this earth forever and they would fight for it until they could no longer. Or until they won. 

They truly did hope there was another universe where they would grow old happily. 

Immortality didn’t bother them, not like it used to. What bothered them was everyone else's view on their own mortality. They were so sick of seeing ad after ad for retinol and face cream and wrinkle remover. Why did these people need a “cure” for something as beautiful as seeing the evidence of the life they lived? They were jealous, sitting and seething over someone talking about laugh lines like they were the world's most common evil. They put their phone down with a loud sigh curling up on their bed as they thought about the whole thing. Their mind desperately needed a minute, they didn’t even know how they got down this rabbit hole. They were watching someone make some new recipe they found and then they were here, scrolling for hours, retinol, anti aging medley, manifestation to live longer, anti aging diet. Fuck. Every single thing ran through their brain at once; they felt like they were going to explode. They were going to live. Forever. They would watch all of their friends grow old and die and maybe even that was too much to hope for. One wrong move on a mission and they could be burying their best friend the next morning like it was a completely normal thing to have to do. 

Clove didn't notice when they’d started crying, wiping furiously at their face trying to stop it, the tears kept coming, eventually turning into heaving sobs as they fell to pieces  on their bed feeling like a blubbering child crying over something they felt was so stupid. They could see their face in the mirror across their bed puffy, red, miserable. A face they would see forever in the mirror and it only made it worse. Their misery was quick to turn to anger. Without thinking they hurled the heaviest thing they could reach at the mirror, it shattered on impact with the force they threw it with. 

“Ah shite.” they muttered moving from their bed to the floor to pick up the pieces. Enraptured in the task they didn't hear Neon come up to the door, knock and call out their name. They felt the smaller  pieces of glass digging into their knees through their leggings felt the small cuts on their hands as they picked up the pieces of the mirror they’d broken. They felt like they broke part of themself in the process in a way. They didn't register the sound of the door clicking open and latching shut. They were too focused on cleaning their mess. Until Neon knelt to their level and started sweeping up the bigger pieces into a pan throwing it into a trashcan in the corner. She didn't speak. Didn’t need to, there was nothing she could say that could make this better. 

When she noticed Clove’s bleeding knees she sat them on the bed, grabbed a first aid kit and carefully worked to pull out whatever pieces got lodged in the skin. Neon didn’t scold them, didn't chastise them for being reckless with the glass and Clove didn’t speak, the tears in their eyes never fell. Their mind was simply too loud. A dull static filled by the sounds of everything they saw. When Neon had finished bandaging up their knees she pulled them into her lap, careful of the scrapes on their hands. She took another rag gently cleaning off their hands. Even still said nothing, tossing the rag into the hamper nearby, Neon simply held them, her hands gently running through their hair. She took the clips out of their hair, placing them on the nightstand and it was so gentle Clove thought they’d start sobbing again over the softness of it all. 

“Clove?” Neon’s voice shook them back out of their thoughts, and they realized that they had in fact begun to cry again. “What's wrong ang sweet ko?” When Cove said nothing, simply holding onto her shirt like it was a life saver and they were a drowning man, she said again. “matamis na bagay, what's going through your head?” It took them a few moments to finally say a word and Neon sat patiently waiting for them to be ready. The sight of their phone on the floor gave her some insight, but she wanted to hear it from them. Not the screen. With a shaky breath and a hand running through their hair trying to straighten out the mess of it, they'd begun to speak. “I will never get older.” They said their voice was shaking as they fought the urge to cry again. “Gods this is stupid. I’m sorry.” They watched Neon frown. “It's not stupid. I wanna know, I wanna help.” She gestured for them to keep talking, they wiped their eyes on the sleeve of their shirt.

“I don't even know what happened.” They said, they wrapped their arms around their knees bringing them up to their chest. Their phone was still on the floor next to the little figurine they’d thrown at the mirror. “You’re my.. friend, and you're upset. Take your time, I’m here when you want to talk.” Neon said softly, brushing their hair out of their face and wiping a tear from their eye. 

“You're a really good friend Tala.” Clove didn’t miss the little smile she gave them at the sound of her real name. When it came to her there wasn’t a lot that they did miss. “These people are so angry about the fact that they're getting older. All those stupid, useless creams and serums all to what? Fill in a wrinkle? It's stupid. They're so obsessed with how they look and how they age. I’ll never get that.” they said, feeling a little like a spoiled child pouting over a toy they didn't get to have. 

“Everyone I love will die and there's nothing I can do to stop it.” They said their voice trailing into more of a whisper than anything. That jealous rage had long subsided and all they felt was misery and that ugly sort of grief that comes from mourning someone who hasn't yet died. 

Neon listened patiently, a stark contrast to her normal demeanor, she was still as she sat in their bed, the only movement coming when Clove jumped up to hug her tightly. She held them for a long time, the two residing in silence, as they often did. Neither of them expected anything from the other, they just happened to gravitate to each other, finding themselves after missions, patching up little wounds that were too small to bother Sage with, and falling asleep in one or the other ones beds. There wasn’t a word for what it was, and there never could be. Clove wouldn’t let it happen, and Neon respected that. The routine had become so ingrained in them that it felt weird to go without it. 

Neon ran her fingers through Clove's hair until she drifted off to sleep. They removed their rings fidgeting with them for a moment before placing them down. Once assured that she was well and truly sleeping she leant up and placed a soft kiss to her cheek.

 “I’m sorry I cannot love you the way you deserve. But I really do love you Tala.” They said leaning their head back down where it was and letting themself drift off. The original thing that upset them had long gone, replaced with an emotion they were unfamiliar with but they didn’t dwell on it. The last thing they felt before they too were asleep was Neon waking for a moment to kiss the top of their head and they both fell asleep. 

[bardnuts]

Be Gay, Do Drugs, Hail Satan - Chapter 6 - katabatic - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

My fic is not dead my fic is not dead my fic is n

Now you’ve really done it. Crouching in the shadows behind a cracked sarcophagus, you listen to the ambient popping of bones and frantically review your options. 

Abandoning that wretched bard to his fate has probably bought you some time. While the risen undead are devouring Twill, you can creep your way to the exit and escape into the—

—the wilderness, where, finding yourself once more alone and friendless, you will be at the mercy of any hunters Cazador sends your way—

—or else doomed to hideous transformation in some fetid swamp, succumbing to ceremorphosis, tentacles spilling from your beautiful face—

You shudder violently. No. It won’t happen. Across the chamber, Twill cowers against the wall, brandishing his lute as the risen scribes advance on him. You unsling your bow and nock an arrow. You can’t let that fool bard die. He’s your only asset—you just collected him. 

You need him. 

Your arrow punches through vertebrae and propels the scribe into the path of Twill’s lute, resulting in a discordant twang and an explosion of bones. The remaining undead cast about for you, skulls swiveling on their dusty necks, but you’ve already slid across the floor and into the shadow of a broad pillar. Safe. 

Twill takes advantage of their lapsed attention to fling himself into an open tomb. 

Think, you command yourself. You’re going to get out of this alive if it kills you again. You can’t escape the way you came in—even through several layers of stone walls you can hear the muffled explosions. Your best way out of here is a break in the chapel wall, a V-shape of cascading stone, through which you can see slick limestone stalactites and a distant mist of sunlight. 

Unfortunately, five clattering undead stand between you and safety. They’re searching for you in an aimless, meandering fashion, still just a little too mindless to know exactly what they’re looking for. 

You peer around the pillar for a better look. The skeletons are well-armed, for scribes. That one is definitely a wizard. And Twill has risen head and shoulders from his hiding place and is making frantic hand signals at you. This idiot is going to get the both of you killed. 

Then he strums his lute.

In the shadowy recesses at the other end of the chamber, something meows. Bones rattle as the scribes turn to face the noise, and you whip your head around in time to see a spectral feline wave its tail in a languid taunt before it turns and slips into the darkness. What in the—

Wait. Their backs are turned. The path to the doors is clear. This is your chance. 

You break out from behind the pillar with an arrow nocked, draw the string, and fire mid-stride, sliding home into your new cover behind a crumbling sarcophagus as one of the scribes explodes into pieces. By the time the others react, you’re hidden again and a few precious steps closer to escape. With the blood pounding in your ears, you glance toward Twill’s hiding place.

The bard winks at you, wiggles his fingers, and plucks a single bright note. 

Meow. 

The scribes cast about wildly. A kitten leaps off the top of Jergal’s mossy statue and vanishes on impact with the ground.  You draw. You step out of cover. You fire. 

Another one bites the dust. 

You drop back into the shadows and press yourself to the floor as one of the scribes clatters past, only feet away from you. There’s only three of them left. By the gods, that’s almost manageable, so long as you’re both careful. Your deranged bard is turning out to be quite the find, isn’t he? 

With a silent breath, you set down your bow and draw your dagger. It’s a dull blade with a long, sordid history: until quite recently, it was Cazador’s favorite cheese knife. When the scribe passes your hiding place, you surge up and slip the dull edge between two dusty vertebrae. The skeleton collapses.

Dexterity: Critical failure

A cloud of bone dust goes straight up your nose. You double over, coughing uncontrollably, and sag against a pillar. 

There’s no hiding now. The two remaining scribes are charging toward you, both heavily armored and sporting spiked clubs, and although these weapons are rusted halfway to the hells and flaking away before your eyes, the ravages of time has not diminished their ability to transform a humanoid skull into an explosion of brain matter, and in spite of this your unparalleled instinct for self-preservation has been overridden by a fistful of inhaled dust and so you can do nothing, nothing, except watch their charge through streaming eyes,

and then Twill hurls a chunk of rock across the tomb and knocks one of them clear off its feet. The other falters, and you manage, just barely, to dodge its poorly-aimed blow and stumble around the side of the pillar, gasping for breath. 

“Ho, ugly!” 

Your stomach drops to your toes. Twill is standing on a sarcophagus, in full view directly in front of the doors, with one hand resting against his instrument and the other cocking back for another throw. The scribes turn immediately for this easier prey. Twill’s second throw misses by a mile, and now he’s armed only with a lute, and for the second time in as many minutes you resign yourself to finding a new source of protection. 

Twill plays a strange, discordant chord, one-two-three-four. 

MEOW. 

The doors behind him burst open and a wave of spectral cats crests and crashes into the derelict tomb. 

Hundreds of them, cats and kittens, shorthairs and longhairs and tabbies and tressyms and ugly flat-noses with bottlebrush tails and you think you even see a lion in there somewhere, all rising and breaking with the graceful fluidity that only cats and running water possess. Their shapes bleed into one another as Twill’s fingers blur over the neck of his lute, each note steering the tide in a new direction. 

As the undead scribes reel around in the bewildering thrall of this illusion, you manage to scrape your jaw off the floor and hurl your dagger into Twill’s feline crescendo. The knife turns once in the air and decapitates its unfortunate target. The sole remaining scribe finds its objective—you—and takes a single unsteady step.

Sparks play around your fingertips, swelling into flame. You raise your arm.

“Ignis!” 

Your last assailant is thus reduced to a pile of scorched bones and smoldering rags.

Twill strums a moment longer and lets the melody resolve. The flow of ghostly cats drops away like a receding wave from a tidepool. Some linger longer as the music fades away: a litter of kittens tumble across the top of a sarcophagus; a tressym shuffles its wings and licks its bristling shoulders; a scrawny tabby stretches and stalks back into the dark, kicking its hind feet as if to bury a shit. By the time the tomb is silent again, every one of the cats is gone. 

Quick, say something irreverent to distract from your astonishment.

“You know, I quite like cats. It’s nice to see the sentiment returned for once.” 

Twill is sitting on top of the sarcophagus, kicking his feet. “I consider myself a cat person, too.” 

“After a display like that, I would be confused if you didn’t.” You retrieve your bow and your dagger, kicking old bones around nervously as you traverse the chamber. “Now, shall we go? I think we have well and truly exhausted this place and I’ll remind you that we still have found nothing whatsoever with which to pay a healer.” 

Twill points across the tomb. “Secret door.” 

You’d forgotten about the ill-fated button press that started this whole mess. You follow Twill’s gaze to see a new opening in the cracked wall. Secret rooms in ancient tombs are, of course, typically lousy with treasure. You feel a sudden twinge of fondness for the bard: perhaps he does have his priorities in order after all. And he’s more than proven himself useful in a pinch, even if his methods are frankly insane. 

It seems that you are stuck with this unserious fool. 

Well, you had better make the most of it. And ensure his loyalty as quickly as possible, before he inevitably discovers what you are. Already, your thirst is threatening to get the better of you. You’ll need to hunt tonight, even if it means sneaking away from your camp. You wonder: would Twill be receptive to your usual seductions? That’s the simplest way, in your experience, to set an arrangement in stone. He’s not entirely repulsive. You might even find it enjoyable. 

With your next course of action decided, you draw your attention back to the matter at hand. 

“Well now,” you say, rubbing your hands together, “let’s see what we’ve discovered, shall we?” 

You have no way of knowing, at this moment, how much you are about to regret your discovery. 

[peakyswritings]

1.5K CELEBRATION

Requested by: @call-sign-shark

Warning: mentions of violence, guns

LILITH

Arthur Shelby was a sinner, and he had earned his place in Hell a long time ago. He was doomed, he had made his peace with that. He lived day by day just waiting for the time the Devil would call him and take him right where he belonged. Or at least, that was until he met her. She was sitting in a church, a beam of light shining through the stained glass caressed her face. Hands clasped, eyes closed.

Ever since that day, even a sinner like him could imagine how Heaven would feel like. He got a taste of it every time her lips touched his, every time he buried his nose in her hair, her sweet scent clouding his mind, every time she spoke words like honey in his ear.

She had the heart of a saint and the beauty of a fallen angel. The mere sight of her had him wanting to fall to his knees and repent for every sin he had ever committed. His guardian, his saving grace.

She had kindled a flame to lead him through the darkness, to bring clarity into his wretched mind. She had taken his bloody hands in hers, without worrying that the blood might stain her too. She had looked into the abyss of his heart, but she hadn’t run away from the darkness. She had dived right into it.

Pure as she was, she had chosen to stay by his side, and guide him towards salvation.

But he was too blinded by her light to notice the shadow creeping up behind her. It was always there, silently following every step, every movement. He was too blinded to notice the way her eyes darkened whenever she thought no one was there to see her. He was too blinded to notice the way she was always observing, always scheming, always plotting.

He had failed to realise that she, too, was full of anger. The kind of anger that wouldn’t pass with time, the kind that demanded to be seen. To explode. It was building up inside of her day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute. And now she had the chance to let it out, because she had him right where she wanted him.

But Arthur was blind. He had been blinded by her light, by her love. By hope. So when he found himself at the end of her gun, the words caught in his throat. She loved the fear in his eyes, he could see it. He had felt the very same a hundred times, but he would never have thought her capable of such emotions.

The piece of paper he was holding slipped from his hand, slowly falling to the ground. The black hand laid between them, ominous and threatening, imbued with betrayal.

“Jane-”

“That is not my name.” She interrupted him, her voice like venom. “Do you wanna guess my real name?”

Arthur could not escape from the painful and ugly truth any longer. She had fooled him. She had fooled everyone.

“(Y/n) Changretta.” She cocked her gun, eyes filled with hatred. “You killed my father, Arthur Shelby.”

[blackjackkent]

So apparently there's actually Durge-specific narration for taking the Blood of Lathander without the crest (and thus triggering all the defense mechanisms).

Narrator: An ornate mace hovers before you, suspended in a shaft of brilliant light. A fist-sized piece of amber flecked with crimson is set in the handle, emitting a radiance all its own. [HISTORY - FAILED] This mace certainly has a very unusual design.

Reach into the light and take the mace.

Narrator: The glow around the mace sparkles with beautiful disaster. You recall all the measures meant to keep you from reaching this place. The brutal aches in your body yearn to take it, though you sense it will spell misfortune.

-----

Rakha HAS the crest and could take the mace safely if she wished, but I actually kind of really like this for her regardless.

We've already established pretty thoroughly that one of Rakha's greatest strengths is extrapolation. She was initially very curious about hearing about this special "blood" that the monastery kept locked away - because the Dark Urge in her always craves blood - but she is definitely easily able to make the leap that this is what those notes were talking about instead.

She also fully understands all the messages we've read indicating that anyone trying to take the mace without permission will trigger defenses that will flatten the place.

She also suddenly has a whole creche full of githyanki who hate her.

The connections seem pretty obvious, really. Take the mace, flatten the monastery, eliminate the angry gith.

(That it will be a triumph of chaos and death and deeply sate the beast in her brain is, of course, a side benefit. She would like to think that's not what's driving this decision... but she would be lying.)

Claim the mace and delight in its danger.

(LOL. Nobody liked that!)

The mace comes free with a sharp jerk from its moorings; she watches the dim snap through the Weave as it releases its hold on the artifact. The mace's handle feels oddly warm in her grip.

"What are you doing?!" she hears Wyll call from behind her - but it's muffled.

With rhythmic thunks, a piece of machinery switches on from somewhere underneath her. A forcefield sizzles into being, cutting her off from the others.

Powerful beams of light erupt from pillars around the room. The low thunks settle into a pulsing hum of energy. Rakha can feel the magic at work surging along her skin and through her blood.

A central beam of that pale light lances out through a portal at the end of the room - connecting into the dormant weapon Rakha saw on the monastery's roof.

Rakha can hear a new low whine added to the sudden cacophony as the weapon begins to realign itself, its mouth pointed downward into the stone of the monastery itself.

Narrator: Everything is in motion. All within these walls are doomed to destruction unless you act.

------

Hehehehe whoops. :D I literally didn't plan for Rakha to do this until this moment but it's kind of perfect. Simultaneously logical and batshit crazy which is basically Rakha's tagline.

We have four turns to figure out what to do here and get the fuck out. I gather from the state of play and a quick glance at Google that we can either destroy the pillars, disabling the weapon, or we can shoot out the power source for the forcefield, which is under the platform, and then make a run for it out the portal. (Rakha could also misty step or dimension door out of the forcefield but she doesn't have access to either of those.)

In the spirit of wanting Rakha to successfully continue her reign of chaos, we will have Wyll eldritch blast the power source for the forcefield and run.

This uh. Didn't work out so well the first time. Everyone got crushed because we need to get them not only out the portal but off the monastery building entirely before it explodes, and I lost a turn figuring out how to get Rakha out of the forcefield.

Second try!

Safe! Nope apparently this isn't far enough either. WTF.

[googles] OK apparently there's a different pathway out the front of the monastery that we should be taking instead?

Third try!

This time I managed to get Lae'zel and Wyll out and Rakha and Shadowheart got flattened.

I actually kind of like this as an end state, because Lae'zel is PISSED about the whole situation and and shouts about it as soon as the game is in a state to allow the cutscene. So it ends up reading like she dragged Rakha and Shadowheart's fried corpses back to camp, had Withers revive them, and then SCREAMED at them as soon as they woke up:

"TSK'VA! GITH M'ZATH'AK!" she bellows as Rakha blinks at her blearily, the resurrection magic slowly bleeding off her body. "Girtar'rac ne toruun! 'One theft consumes all'. Protocol four-hundred-two! Our greed reduced Creche Y'llek to rubble. Vlaakith, absolve my sin or skewer my heart! In each you might make me worthy!"

Rakha stares at her, utterly baffled by this anger, still dizzy from the resurrection and having trouble settling back into her body. "The creche has turned against us," she says bluntly. "Why should I care about them?"

"I care!" Lae'zel snarls. Rakha can hear the surge of pain under the words, the confused blend of loyalty and anger and despair. "Just because the zaith'isk failed, because Vlaakith has marked us, makes this no less of a tragedy. I do not expect you to mourn - but I will not tolerate your rejoicing either." She spits on the ground next to Rakha's feet. "Shka'keth. Next time, think twice before getting grabby with powerful relics in mysterious places."

She stalks off. Rakha looks after her with bewilderment. She is too confused even to feel the beast urge's satisfaction at all the death they have caused. She had thought, on some level, that Lae'zel too would see it as a killing with purpose. Lae'zel, after all, was betrayed by those people, by her entire race.

"I am not rejoicing," she mutters, though Lae'zel is now out of hearing range. "It was necessary."

"Was it?" Withers asks placidly at her side.

Rakha glares at him. "Do not test me, skeleton," she mutters. "I will yet find a way to end you as well."

[lohstandfound]

My Favourite Line From Each Poem in My Gay Poetry Manuscript

this was harder than i thought, some are better than others, some are more poetic sounding than others, anyway there's like around 50 poems so this is a bit long

no longer hiding / no longer creeping around behind closed doors / no longer suppressing who i am / i love who i love / and that is enough

that one false confession proved to be a bad idea

The word Falls From their lips, Like an autumn leaf.

The final goodbye is covered in thorns.

The sourness of the final word Still lingers on your tongue As you pretend The same sullen taste Is lingering for them, too

twin arrows pierce our hearts / golden and radiant / joining us together / a moment of devotion to you

Digging their roots into my lungs.

i put on a smile / wave goodbye / shove the words deep into my chest / another day another time

Stars on her skin, Stars in her eyes, Stars everywhere

The type of love that means everything will be okay.

Surrounded by red and amber tulips.

You carry the stars with you everywhere.

Crumpled bloody flowers Adorn the photograph In pathetic beauty

i had my moon, he had his stars and we’d talk about our unrequited crushes

I am capable of love, And I don’t need to prove it.

It was doomed from the start.

slow dance in the kitchen to the light of the refrigerator at 3 am

I want you to be mine.

Bruised lips crash together, Held in a rhythmic percussion.

You know who you are supposed to be.

we create a new sense of self / that sense of i / that sense of a whole person / that identity we have to develop with reference to ourselves

Red-stained petals Scatter around me in a  Bouquet that I will never send.

another search for a missing puzzle piece

Sprinkles of kisses cover her shoulders as I praise her like the goddess she is

She called me one of her baby gays at a party, And I wasn’t complaining.

And I wait for the beat And the realisation And the smile on her face.

Delve into the unexplored maze

Your hands cup my cheeks as you press your sugary lips to mine

she could not remember Anything but longing [this line is from my found poetry attempt using lines from sappho's fragments]

there are girls who walk in moonlight with starlight in their eyes and secrets to be kept

So, she picks a boy to satisfy the room.

In a phantom crown of yellow.

and when you’re belting songs at the top of your lungs / feeling the world move beneath your feet / feeling the fireworks exploding deep in your chest / clinging to your friends in the chilly december air

Or religiously watched the Call Me Maybe & California Girls music videos.

Dreaming of getting wasted on the blood of Christ.

The little girl who adored you and all the angels and saints Would be so disappointed in me for just walking away from you.

I’ll let my hands trace every inch of your skin, every dip and curve, while I leave trails of kisses along your neck

To be someone aligned between other lines

It’s like I’m sitting in the closet, The door is wide open But I’m not yet allowed to leave.

Eighteen-year-old me cries when she realises we have friends.

gentle and soft with a girl i love…

The way a smile curves at her lips, And the fondness in her voice, As she spoke about gifts she would want: “Flowers.”

I love her in a way even I can't put into words

[saskiacornelli]

Quotes that made me feel shit

“Our love wasn’t the kind of love that was written in the cards… it was the kind of love that burned them.”

“Do villains have hearts baby?”

“Always a rebel, forever a soldier, one as a lover, the other don’t bother.”

“Always a rebel forever soldier, one as a lover, the other forever

“I fed them chaos… …so they swallowed me whole. “

“I prefer the men who lurk in dark, dusty corners. After all, that’s where all the secrets lie.”

“You only think I’m perfect because you haven’t seen my soul”. 

“The thing about the people who know how to ignite your rage are usually the only people who also know how to put it out”.

“A smile is strong enough to conceal sadness, because it’s easier for people to acknowledge that someone is happy, rather than offer sympathy for another’s desolation.”

“She wasn’t pretty or attractive. She was damn right lethal and she fucking knew it.”

“I was a Doll, but I wasn’t made of plastic. I was constructed of the names of all those who’d wronged me…” 

“All three of us lived with damage. None of it made sense, the pieces didn’t fit; until we met each other.”

“Love will never die if it exists on the lips of death.”

“Once you’ve tasted the bitter tang of sin on the tip of your tongue, you’ll do everything you can to drink from its poison for the rest of your life.”

“I live for chaos. I bathe in it, dance in it, and fuck in it”

“People who know too much are walking time bombs, ready to explode and exploit at any moment. They have too much control.”

“You are brutally beautiful in your own way”

“Knock knock, bitch now let the devil in”

“Stuck between a rock and a hard place, so I dug her fucking grave screaming, this bitch can’t be saved”

“Fuck love, but it’ll fuck you too…”

“I’ll take away your sadness with my deranged madness.”

“The most beautiful faces hide the darkest souls.”

“Could the same hands that end lives be the same ones to make mine come alive”

“In the dark is where wilted flowers grow, they get watered with the blood of his enemies and the fluid from my broken heart.”

“A wish is just a sentence that’s said aloud in the hopes of it coming true.”

“You’re not just a switch for my humanity, you’re a goal trigger for my rage too.”

“I’d much rather sleep in darkness. It’s where my thoughts reside.”

“My knight was darkness, fighting fire with fire- I fought darkness with darkness.”

“In our world of shattered reflections that look back at us, I’m the girl who wants to dance with the devil.”

“I was light, and I was pure until I wasn’t.”

“Your mind is like your very own diary, locked and sealed between the gushing of blood that is being courted through the fibers of your cranium.”

“The devil should run.”

“I was made for war, not for love. I don’t want to break people. I want them to be broken already. I don’t want to feel that way, but I can’t help myself.”

“Love is savage, love is blind, love is something they may not find…”

“The most crippling pain

That comes isn’t from losing your lover, it’s from losing something that was so precious that you didn’t deserve it to begin with.”

“Some angels have the devil on their side…”

“Love doesn’t care who it destroys to get what it wants.”

“His eyes were the entrance to Hell, and every time he looked at you, he would draw you in closer to the burning iron gates.”

“Lost can be whole again once it has been found.”

“To rare for earth, too doomed for heaven.”

“If he wants a show I’ll give him mayhem.”

“I don’t care if I will fall in love with a devil, as long as that devil will love me the way he loves hell.”

“He set fire to the world, but never let a flame touch her.”

“His love is aphotic, but she’s willing to drown in it.” 

“He held a darkness that could never be touched. She carried a light that could never be seen.”

“A dream is just a nightmare wearing makeup.”

“There’s no price to power; there’s just blood.”

“He told me he loved me. And that may be true, but the only thing left between us, is broken and strewed.”

“Till death we don’t part because even if we do die, our souls still continue to find each other.”

“This world was all fun and games right up until the finally came.”

“I’ve always been one that would prefer to dance with danger than walk with the mundane.”

“To all the fuckers who said I would never amount to anything.

*grins*

Sup.”

The devil furnishes his darkest souls with the prettiest smiles.

And as I was in the darkness so darkness I became.

Most people want to be the sun that lights up your life, but I’d rather be the moon that shines don on you in your darkest hours

Our love tore everything apart… including each other 

Tricksters don’t have hearts. They just pretend they do.

Trouble never looked so fine

She knows who she is. She just forgot it for a little while.

Tell the wolves I’m home

Family ain’t who your born with. It’s who you die for. 

What if the same hands that soothe me are the same hands that harm me

I kind of want to eat u rn

Later. I want to play first

My karma may be a bitch, damn that bitch is beautiful

I was the trick that they could never play. 

She was the greatest game of all…

There was elegance that comes from being carved from the ashes of all the darkness that surrounds you in the world. 

You start as dust, and you end as dust. At least that’s what I always thought. 

I wasn’t someone who needed protecting… they were. 

People whispered his name in fear. I screamed it when he was in between my thighs. 

You may be a princess on the streets and people may fall to their knees in your presence, but in here? You’re my little fucking toy, and the only one kneeling will be you. 

I was her weapon but she forgot to protect her heart.

She wore a thousand faces all to hide her own

Who needs enemies when you have memories that torture you all the time

They say drowning is the most peaceful death, I can imagine why.

To protect a monster, one must be a monster 

The darkness has always lingered inside me, I’ve just subdued it by feeding it my fears 

When you’ve been raised by monsters, they teach you how to exist with them

A killer’s love is as violent as the art in which they take lives.”

Cheers to more bodies dropping. As the old saying goes, may they all rest in pieces.

He exists within darkness so that I can be the light to guide him home

She can see through people. Their lies, their secrets, and the decayed skeletons they try to hide in their closet 

In or messed-up way, the Cherry will always symbolize our bond. We grew as a pair from the earth and shared the same flesh and blood. When one is disconnected from the other, we rot and die. I rot…. And die

Betrayal is a poison , and once you taste it, you can’t get it out

My life is full of messy people who don’t always make the right choices 

Before he was the Devil’s pet… He was mine. 

They killed lots of people, but they would hug me if I’m crying 

She was fearless, and crazier than him. She was his queen. And god help anyone who disrespected his Queen

I’ve seen the devil more than I’ve seen god

The prettiest smiles hide the darkest secrets 

The prettiest eyes have cried the most 

The kindest hearts have felt the most pain

You thought you could live like a saint but forgot that you’re claimed by am Antichrist

Beauty is the deadliest curse of all because it tricks you into thinking you’re attracted to it

People don’t just disappear, other people just stop looking for them

There was a women who also sought the light but it burned her and she fell into darkness 

I’ve always loved messing with people who try to hard at life

They wanted to own me… I just wanted to survive them

He wasn’t cold to be cruel. He was cold out of necessity to survive a brutal world.

I think I scare him as much as he scares me

The foe, the weapon, the ruse, the liar 

Not all soulmates are lovers

Bloodied and broken with the kind of torment that breeds, but never dies. 

A story about two souls destined to be together, but who are trapped in bodies that hate each other 

The stories would never die… not until the real one at least has been told. 

It all started with a game. The kind of trickery that poisons your heart because it knows the mind is week

A daughter, a friend… a liar 

To the people that fuck red flags. Saddle up. 

Hades hollow has a secret, and like the bones of our ancestors that live beneath the waters here, it should stay dead. 

He had eyes that matched the gates of hell and an air about him that made all the warning bells inside my head go off 

I have to know what freedom tastes like on the tip of my tongue 

The worst part about regret is the fact that you do t know when it’s going to hit you. 

The only people who get killed are those ignoring the signs. 

Diavoli dell’oceano (The devils of the ocean)

Who you are today will not be who you’re going to be tomorrow 

He was everything bad that no one should ever want, much less a Queen

There are whispers that go through the streets, and all of them begin and end with us

Bloodied and broken with the kind of torment that breeds, but never dies

Make the high and mighty low arrogant creatures down you go

If I can't have you, my love, I'll destroy you!

if he loves another and gives his heart, then magic will appear and everything he loves will die

Sleeping flame, I summon thee / To your form return / Make the night as bright as day / And burn, baby, burn!

Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break. 

When it comes to the high seas. Not all monsters lurk beneath the surface 

Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out

The only ones that aren’t afraid are the monsters

It’s always the prettiest girls who think they’re ugly

"If it's death that I've chosen, then so be it. Let it flow through my veins."

Sometimes you think you want to disappear but all you really want is to be found

I was so lost in hatred and revenge. You stole what was left of my heart 

You think no one loves you, and yet you attracted the devil babygirl 

Evil queens are just princesses that were never saved 

If you treat me like a game, then I’ll show you how it’s played 

If I can’t have you my love, I’ll destroy you.

Beautiful boy, you don’t even realize that some people look at your madness and see nothing but grace and brilliance 

Why should I apologize for the monster I’ve become? No one ever apologized for making me this way

If I can still breathe I’m fucking fine

Didn’t your mother ever tell you to never shake hands with a demon

Never hide your bad side to make someone stay, show your bad side and see who will stay

People don’t change. They reveal who they really are 

Someday someone will break you so badly that you will become unbreakable 

I’ll never be that me again

Fuck death till us part. Hell better lock its gates if I ever loose you. 

To the girls who think that the grim reaper will fuck like a god

When we’re young we’re taught the distinction between a hero and a villain, good and evil, a savior and a lost cause. But what if the only real difference is who’s telling the story

I found my own light when you left me in the darkness 

Hell is empty and all the devils are here 

The people that are the most broken and the saddest are the ones that would do absolutely anything for anyone else. 

Sweet as sugar cold as ice hurt me once, I’ll break you twice

She wanted to feel loved without feeling like she was begging for it

She’s fading away slowly and not noticing 

She passed her hardest moments alone when everyone thought she was fine 

He’s not gods disciple he’s Lucifer’s little bitch

Don’t enter the den of wolves and ask not to be bitten 

You’re my heaven and I’m your hell

I want toxic. I want madness. I want someone who makes me question my sanity 

They say even monsters have weaknesses

Yeah, he is a liar. But he’s a liar that loves you

To the girls who fall for villains… Their hearts are only black until you tear them out 

He was always there to take my hand… even if it was to lead me straight to hell.

Every time you fall, I’ll catch you. Even with blood on my hands  

You’d lose your mind trying to understand mine 

And suddenly, sadness turns to anger 

My mother didn’t raise a fool. A psychotic cold-hearted bitch, but not a fool

Some children are simply born with tragedy in their blood 

Quietly she fell apart 

I wanted to feel love without feeling like I was begging for it 

Personally I’m both fucked-up and misunderstood 

But it made you stronger

I was a child

I didn’t need to be stronger 

I needed to be safe 

I feel like it’s my anger that has helped keep me alive 

Being raised by cold eyes taught me not to cry

Run, and when you come back burn this place to the ground 

So heartless yet so full of feelings 

I have slit throats far more beautiful then yours 

A part of me always knew you weren’t villain in my story

They were the product of every nightmare you were told as a child, only now, they don’t go bump in the night. 

They throw parties to conceal your morbid games, and leave behind the chaos that can never be tamed. 

My biggest fear is that you see me the way I see myself

Abuse can feel like love. 

We are all born beautiful. The greatest tragedy is being convinced we are not.

The problem with trauma is it leaves its scars behind, so it knows exactly where to find them again when it comes back. And it does, it always comes back. 

Yeah I’ve done some pretty horrible things to survive but unlike you poor, delicate, (insert there name) I deal with my shit. You wouldn’t last one day without everyone fawning over you.

I am the object of his art, his desire, and his depthless scorn 

When you make someone fall in love with the darkest parts of you, there’s nothing you can do that will scare them away.

This shadow ruined every expectation I had of seeing the light

I fell so deeply that I’ve found myself in the devils lair being feasted on from the dark god himself

Humans don’t need to decorate themselves in gory make-up and fake blood to be scary. It’s the insides of us- the darkness that lurks beneath the surface that’s what truly fucking terrifying. 

The fun has only just begun little mouse.

When he walks through the room, it’s like the darkness cringes to him. He is darkness.

They’ll soon realize that I sit on the fucking throne, and their nightmares, bow to me.

You might be a psycho, but you’re my psycho, and I’m yours 

To the world, she is formidable. 

To me?

She is the world.

I was certain I would never love him. And now that the rain has calmed, my resolve has shattered, and I’m left with a screaming heart and a silenced world 

For centuries. Both of us wearing different faces, inhabiting different bodies. But the same souls, colliding over and over, until this planet decides to crumble and our souls have nowhere else to go 

Parsons Manor will always be destined to be the house that burns and takes lives 

I always thought I would be protected. Untouchable. I thought I was unbreakable, but I’m the right hands, anyone can be fragile. 

When love grows where have was planted, you don’t get flowers. Just thorns.

Pretending your demons don’t exist doesn’t make them stop chasing you… only slows the race. 

He saw the devil in her beauty, she saw the beauty in his darkness

Life was nothing more than a mask used to forgive someone for all the wrong they did. Love didn’t exist. Obsession did. 

In darkness, even the violent burn of hatred could lead you home

Cunning. Unexpected. Not to be fucked with. Gentle but not soft. 

Forgiveness wasn’t a currency I’d ever spend. If you crossed me I’d simply make you pay.

People don’t tell you their lies. They show them.

In sin, and until the last drop, long live the EKC until our hearts stop

I’d felt the thunder of her dark side over the years, but I was yet to taste its rain. 

The weight of love can be trained to straighten you, or it will be the anchor that drowns you.

Love is like cocaine. Easy to snort, hits fast, but then you realize it’s not worth it.

Betrayal is a wound that most girls cannot forget, it cuts deeper than love itself. That’s why it lingers in our blood as a reminder to us that men like (name) exist, and why at the end of the day, they’ll only ever be some guy you thought you loved 

To love a beast, you must be a best. 

They say you could feel the shadow of death before it took you. And tonight, that shadow was here

If I wasn’t so tired, all I’d be able to feel are the new wounds over my heart.

The hardest part about sharing any kind of trauma with people is sometimes, we don’t want to give the ones we love the pain that we’ve held on to

What’s your favorite food? 

If you let me taste you, it might just be you

I am strong. I am wild. I am a survivor 

Are you still a survivor if you can’t remember the darkest part of your memories

Hit him hard and hit him deep. Strike the heart and make him weep. 

Mater et luna voco, redde unde exierunt, Cinis cinerem. Pulvis sunt pariter 

This women came straight from the pits of hell. She’s strong, smart, and cunning. 

I heard true love never dies, but your love killed me.

She was wild but loyal

She was like the moon, part of her was always hidden away. 

She was wild but loyal 

She was the type to fall in love with the stars  and everything that was beautifully unreachable 

Her angel eyes saw the good in many devils

The devil furnishes his darkest souls with the prettiest smiles

He came into this alley as the predator. He’ll die as the prey 

To defeat a monster, you have to be twice as monstrous. To love a monster, you have to share your soul

They took too much. Left too little. I had nothing to lose, until him. 

My mind is whole, even if my soul is not. 

She’s resistive and unattainable. She has everyone yearning for her attention, only to feed them crumbs

I’ll pain the town red just like they painted the streets with our blood

The time for secrets is over. Tell my story. Save your soul. 

I thought love would rip my heart out. 

I thought it would set me on fire. 

Instead, it turned me to ice. 

I’m still the twisted monster in the night while your the honest hero in the light

Mentally, I was a slut. Physically, I was terrified of intimacy. Spiritually, I didn’t like men. 

You walk a fine line between macabre and uncharacteristically psychotic 

Seduce and destroy

You can play hard to get all you like. I fucking love the chase.

And I like to run

Let the games begin baby

With the fallen, I rise

With the broken, I cry

With the lost, I find my own 

With the outcasts, I am home 

With the forgotten, I remember

With the chaos, I am centered 

With the wrong, I find the right

With the exiled, I will fight

To all the book sluts who go feral over masked strangers that fuck like they kill… I got you

She was the sea. Calm but so deep

She was like the moon, part of her was always hidden away

Take my hand, take my whole life too and dance with me in the dark

The Devil and I get along just fine

Divine violence

A Prophecy of Secrets & Poison

Secrets are cancer, so here’s a truth. I know yours. They were never meant for you!

It’s crazy how trauma makes you push people away when all you want is love

If they tried to take her from him, he’d rip the world apart with his bare hands. And for some reason that didn’t scare him

She’ll know all my secrets except one: that I’m in love with her 

In the trauma of my death, I became the Aglaeca. Those who died by the monster's hand had already been warned. They made their choice. Just as you did.

They say I’m emotionless. I’m not. Because I hated her.

It’s giving little red riding hood if she loved the wolf

They created a monster and asked why I bite

He wanted to play games… but forgot who he was playing with 

Love is a theme park, so let’s burn this bitch down.

They say true love never dies. But they never cut deep enough

She tried to hide her demons… so I ripped her apart to get them. Wonder if they tasted the same way they did all those years ago 

They had the kind of love…that should never exist

[themuselesswriter]

Returning Home

Characters: Tally Craven, Original Female Character (y/n)

Summary: Tally was kidnapped and tortured by the Spree but luckily she was rescued, however, she was severely affected by everything

Word count: 200+

Warnings: torture, memory loss, ptsd

A/N: i'm trying to get back into writing so here's some practice

Credits: photos from Pinterest, editing app is picsart

--------------------------- Oneshot ---------------------------

Hate, that's what you felt towards the young witch from the opposing coven, although the problem was nothing personal among the two of you, but an enemy to your friend is an enemy to you, those are the rules of the covens.

Although you must admit, you found her quite appealing, beautiful, well mannered and highly talented, but you always refrained yourself from feeling further affection towards her, not wanting to upset your coven sisters, she was a Belleweather unite recruit afterall, while you... you were something else.

However, days have a funny way to remind you that your opinion only mattered a little, this woman you hated so much once, is now all you can think about, all you can dream about, all you wish to find.

You and Tally were inseprable ever since that day at the elevator, she was anxious about being stuck in an elevator that's dark and terrible, you had to comfort her, one thing led to another and now, you've been together for three years.

Naturally, nothing good lasts in Fort Salem, as if the place was doomed for eternal misery, sworn that it will never rest nor let anyone rest, your girlfriend was taken by the Spree, she was held a hostage for month at least, it drove you insane, you were a ticking timebomb, exploding at everyone and everything, and when you found her, the state of her didn't ease your trouble, she was bruised, from head to toe, she was hallucinating and barely able to put two pieces together.

She was taken to the medical bay for treatment nad held there for a couple of weeks, it was as if her memory was wiped out and she was... she was someone else, someone broken and damaged, when they finally allowed you to see her, it was as if you were meeting someone else "Tally" you said softly, her eyes wandered at you, studying you, trying to put pieces together "is it okay if I sit?" she noded, you pulled a chair and sat by her bedside.

"They told me you don't remember most things" you tried to start a conversation, she nodded "I don't... I remember my mother... some of my childhood but... everything else is..." she paused, zoned out for a moment "it's like a dream" she explained, apologetically, she seemed so vulnerable and unsure of herself "do you remember me?" you asked, she shrugged "I remember how you made me feel... I remember feeling safe around you but... I don't know who you are" she said, sounding sorry, you gave her a little nod, at least she remembers something, right?

"I'm Y/N, we are... we were together" you explained "were? together as in the same covin?" she asked, her voice is barely higher than a whisper "no, we were dating, a couple" you explained "and you don't want me anymore because I'm broken?" she asked with tears in her eyes "No" you rapidly replied "I... I just didn't want to put pressure on you, I know you're going through a lot and the last thing I want is put relationship pressure on you, I mean, it doesn't matter right now what matters the most is that you get better" you explained, Tally nodded "I'm-" she paused for a moment "I'm scared... I don't know what to do or who to trust... the memories are different in my head than the ones they are telling me and... I don't know what to do" she groaned tiredly.

You felt your heart break at her sight, this wonderful, confident woman that you once knew was no longer there "maybe I can help... you can tell me stuff and I can tell you what I know" you offered "and can I trust you?" you nodded "you said that you do already feel safe around me and, you were always able to tell when someone is lying to you" she nodded "did they torture me at the fort?" she asked almost immediately, you shook your head "no... you were trained though, the trainign wasn't always pleasant but not even close to torture" you explained "and they kidnapped me and forced me to join the forces?" again, you shook your head "you enlisted yourself, even though you had a pardon, you wanted to be here, make a difference"

She stayed silent for a moment, trying to process what you told her, after forever of silence, she looked at you "what food do I hate the most?" she asked sheepishly "you've always hated the soup in here, it's a bit too brownish for your liking and you hated how the carrots taste" she smiled a little and nodded "that explains why my stomach shift and turn whenever I eat it" you couldn't help but laugh a little at her comment, she smiled, and for a moment, you forgot about all the events and felt like she was back to herself.

You talked for a bit longer until she ended up falling aslepe, and this became your routine, whenever you don't have work around the fort, you would go to Tally and talk until she falls asleep, a major milestone was when she started holding your hand and falling asleep, that's when she became more comfortable with you, started to ask you to sleep next to her, even call for you whenever she was in distress.

By the end of the month, she was transferred into your care, you took her back to your shared quarter and she was adapting, she had her ups and downs, but eventually, she was called back to duty even though you were highly against it.

You were in the vehicle when you noticed Tally's body shaking, as if she was somewhere else, you moved to sit next to her and placed a hand on hers, instead of relaxing at your touch like she usually was, she jolted and looked at you horrified "Tallz?" you called softly "I'm sorry... I can't- I can't be here... please... I can't go back there" she said hysterically, you frowned, it took a moment to register that she was having flashbacks from the stress, she was crying and trumbling and before you could do anything to comfort her, the vehicle stopped, announcing the arrival to your post.

You had to leave her for the mission, she stayed in the vehicle, you went to the mission and they kept attacking you, the Spree were relentless and before you knew it they were targetting the vehicle, you tried to protect it to the best of your power but you ended up getting hurt in the process, the whole ride back to the fort, Tally kept holding your hand and crying, you were in and out of conscousness and whenever you were lucid, you would try to comfort her, that night at the infirmary, you spent cuddling her, comforting her, trying to get her to calm down, although you were in great deal of pain, although she was shaken up and perhaps lost all the process she made over the previous period, this... holding her like this was nice.

[the-haunted-office]

Jonas plops down a couple of very badly wrapped gifts in front of Doom and sits there happily humming to himself. " Go aheaaaad open 'em!!! "

When Doom does so, she'll first find a polished apatite stone in beautiful hues of blue and silver, carved in the shape of a skull and large enough to fit in her hand. The other gift is a rock tumbler!

" For any of your rocks in your collection that you wanna shine up! Also I know you don't believe in all that hippy dippy stuff and I don't really either but apparently apatite has uhhh 'healing' properties wait lemme see what the lady at the store wrote down for me..."

He unfolded a piece of paper and squinted at his terrible writing. " Uhhh 'cleanses emotional baggage and encourages creative thinking outside of the box, absorbs heavy feelings and elevates higher thinking'...uhhhhh....some shit about throat chakras...anyways you can probably look up more about it online but yeah. "

He looked up at Doomsday and smiled. " Hope you like it! "

Doom had been sitting there casually spacing out and daydreaming about exploding penises when Jonas suddenly plops some gifts down right in front of her. She startles a little bit, her eyes popping open like she's been caught doing something stupid or crazy, but she settles down easily enough.

Now, she'd never be able to properly explain why, but opening gifts in front of people makes her feel put on the spot, like she has to act a certain way or put on a performance. All around it's quite awkward for her and she never knows quite how to respond to it, so she goes with the default expectation of gratitude although there is a bit of sheepishness right there at the beginning.

"Oh, ahhhh. Thank you!" she says, voice full of weird, awkward... awkwardness, as though she's never been given a gift before (she has, but she feels the same time every time she's given one, ever since she was a child, it's a feeling that has never gone away nor diminished with time).

The apatite stone is of immediate interest, although she cannot sense the sort of... draw to it that many of her other rocks back at the Office have. She doesn't realize that her draw to them is the presence of souls within them. Since this stone doesn't have a soul in it, there is no draw. But that's okay - part of Jonas's heart was put into it when he picked it out for her, and that's much more precious.

"Ehehehe, can I stick your head in it? Since you've got such a hard head? Ehehehe," she snickers, regarding the rock tumblr, trying to stick her head into it even as she says that much. She then snorts about the apparent properties of the apatite. "How do you suppose they figured all that out? Did they shove it down some poor fool's throat and wait for him to choke to death and say, 'Well, I reckon that there fella's been cured of his emotional baggage and heavy feelings now'. Ehehehehe. Don't know about encouraging any creative thinking if you're dead, though, ehehehhe."

Doom isn't one who is big on physical gestures and affection. She does find herself giving Jonas a hug, though, if he accepts it. Being one who doesn't appreciate sudden, non-consensual hugs herself, she likes to make sure that others - including friends - are given the opportunity that she'd want to be given, and know that they can decline or end the hug at any time.

[creaturefeeture]

I just spent the last of my savings on a new computer because my old one died and it came out of the box with a rattling fan so now I ~gently~ kick this expensive idiot in the guts every time it gets The Rattle because I can't afford to take it to the repair center and spend a couple hundred for them to tighten a fan or whatever the fuck and I don't trust myself to repair it on my own without messing things up more. But kicking it is only going to fuck it up more over time so it's like you know. Rattle away, you piece of shit.

Your plastic will outlast my bones but the sun will explode and obliterate this rock in a few billion years and I believe my molecules will be rearranged into beautiful sparkling stellar dust while yours will be doomed to float marooned in the cold void between stars for eternity. Because of your dumb fan, mostly.

[doomanddead]

The Salt Pale Collective Transmutes Metal into Gold

A Body That Could Pass Through Stone And Trees is an exercise in modern alchemy. Punishing riffs, paradoxical vocals, and electronic pandemonium are the base elements in this brew, but the resulting metal is more than the sum of its parts. The Salt Pale Collective's sound is a unique amalgamation of growls, celestial singing, devastating doom instrumentation, and riotous noise. This trio from the north of England play as if they are generating their own electricity, driving a spontaneous chemical reaction between opposing forces. Let’s step into the album, and see what’s bubbling.

The opening track, Tria Prima, soaks your brain in a moody brine of crashing drum beats, tribal grooves, and digital noise. You’re inundated with sound— baptized in mercury, salt, and sulphur. 

The Great Work isn’t shy. This track mashes your face into spice grinder with rumbling blackened vocals. The funeral doom pacing and density are paired with slippery clean vocals and an electronic hum. Listening to this song is like stepping through the ruins of a burned-out laboratory that’s glitching around you. A tremendous achievement.

The Metabaron is more serene, with specks of digital chaos whizzing around the ether. It’s a melancholy, atmospheric soundscape— a dream that slowly becomes more threatening. Tension draws taught and slackens again as the elements of this song are transmuted over and over. 

Exploding Triangles is so heavy it’s bursting at the seams. Crashing drums and otherworldly growls meet beguiling clean vocals. The harmonies in this fucker will leave you with goosebumps. If entropy had a soundtrack, this would be it. 

Sermon Of The Edacious Revenant is an imposing slab of metal. The disjointed noise floating at the top of this track finally sinks through a chemical solution, and settles into an unnerving pounder of a song. A heavy riff stirs the cauldron. Wear protection, kids: the fumes coming off this one will leave your head buzzing. 

The title track, A Body That Could Pass Through Stones And Trees, is a beautiful piece of doom. In the darkness, vocal harmonies resonate like atomic particles vibrating together. A piece of spoken word is capped off with some crushing riffage and a swirl of synapses sparking. It’s a sandstorm in a bottle. 

The King Crowned In Red is a bruiser with a guttural roar. Amid the struggle and fury, the female vocal seems like a soothing presence at first… but you’ll quickly find yourself ensnared. This track has the off-kilter strut of a practitioner who finally prevailed over the laws of god and science, but whose victory was won at a staggering cost. In the aftermath, a half-melted organ melody picks its way through the rubble.

The tracks on A Body That Could Pass Through Stones And Trees are marvels of modern chemistry— continuously changing form, but always one cohesive unit. This album unites disparate sounds and ideas, rendering gold from the firmament. Don’t sleep on this album; there are riches within.