frogbearwhatever

[auspicioustidings]

Ok Kinktober is all queued up! Very proud I finished it all and I hope you enjoy the ending. I am going to be taking a break for obvious reasons, I've put some stuff below on the current situation.

I had never been informed of that slur before, in tags I said I thought maybe I had because the word was ringing some bells. I went back and checked, I cannot find any discussion of it as a slur and it had never appeared in any of my work. That was updated in the original ask as soon as I looked into it, it's on my blog and has been for a few days. And look I'm not happy with myself that I even thought it could be the case that I had been told about it before and forgot, that's a fair criticism.

I have never had my portrayal of black men raised to me before. The only ask/DM/comment I have ever knowingly received before now was that I would be better saying Gaz's cheeks heated rather than flushed which I took on board and changed immediately. Unsure where the idea that I had been pulled up for this before came from, maybe the tag on the answer which is fair, I shouldn't have tagged it when I hadn't double checked why the word was seeming familiar.

The fic wasn't taken down because I was asked to take it down, that was me taking it down to address a comment. During the conversation, I said I was going to rework it taking into account the issues raised and in future works switch around kinks. This wasn't contested, the conversation ended well. The person I had this discussion with is free to post screenshots of it - I genuinely think there was a misunderstanding here. The fic was reuploaded with said issues removed. It was later taken down again when everything started, I can only edit to what has been raised with me as the original commentor blocked me so I couldn't seek clarification, so I took out the piss kink and non-con from all chapters involving Mace.

I believe there is some suggestion that I am sending anon asks which is not the case. If I have been blocked and cannot DM someone, I take the hint and don't try contact them. I have made it very apparent and will do so again that nobody should harass people over this, especially not as a way to try and discourage POC from highlighting racial bias.

My issue with all of this is the supposed white allies. White allyship isn't just reblogging posts, it is getting in my DMs and having a discussion with me rather than the onus being on POC to do so. I take no issue with POC not wanting to entertain discussion with me, that is their right as minorities existing in a space that is often actively hostile to them. I take issue with white people being performative instead of doing the actual work. To date not one person has DM'd or messaged, even on anon, to have a conversation with me about where I went wrong and how I can improve in the future.

It's part of your job as a white ally to educate other white people. I have had to do it, I know it's uncomfortable, tough shit. That's what allyship is.

Once again, I do not need nor do I want defending. Get out of POCs asks and into mine if you want to rant.

[pennycat83]

Take Me Home

Curly (post crash) x reader

This got 1,103 on AO3 so I decided to share it here as well. I'mma also warn for described graphic imagery and the usual Mouthwashing suffering

5 months, almost 26 days since your last job. Your legs slumped limp against the control panel, arms folded lazily against your stomach as you dozed. Your ship was far from desirable, nothing more than a scrap ship you used to get what little change you could gather from abandoned ships. Old habits died hard, you joked. 

That being said it wasn't anything to sneeze at. Despite only really holding one person most of the time, it still had a quaint medical bay, storage unit, washing facilities and two sleeping quarters. You often forgot you even had a home on Earth with how cosy the place felt. 

You jolted at an abrupt sonar ping. Another ship, you grunted, straining your arms behind your back, you set the auto pilot to maneuver closer. Heading to a beaten up locker in the back for something other than a tank top and shorts. You let the jumpsuit hang around your waist, tightening your bootlaces before zipping it up. Rummaging around further, you retrieved a well beaten axe from the back, tucked haphazardly between a few boxes, you slipped the holstered axe around your belt loop.

A Pony Express Ship, it looked like hell. Foam coated most of the exterior, making it had to identify the original entrance. You grumbled something regarding how incompetent the crew must've been.  Making your way to the ship was enough of a challenge for such a simple 'job', hacking into a bit of the foam in an attempt to weasel in, you knew too much would mean the goods would spill out. Your breath hitched, carefully sinking your axe bit by bit until you made a decently sized hole. Finally, you tumbled into what was most likely the storage unit. 

The ship groaned as you tucked your axe back into its holster, whipping out a flashlight to inspect the hull. Walls of boxes surrounded the modest space, what little lights that remained flickered above, you continued on. Moving through the endless rows until you reached the steps to the exit, you noted a few of the boxes had been ripped open, bottles of mouthwash littered the floor, dribbles of the remains sticking to your boot heels.

"What the fuck?". You scoffed before exiting, the  doors were open. That was enough an indicator that something wasn't right, moving through the rest of the rooms confirmed your suspicion. The hallways bathed in a harsh red, foam tripped you up at points, beloved items were scattered haphazardly, until you finally entered the main area. 

Jesus Christ, you froze. A large T.V. system flickered the same piercing error message as darkened patches of...you sighed shakily. Looking over to the table, a party. "Shit-fuck-s-sorry to intrude! I...I just-I'll...". You faltered, noticing the violent lack of a reaction. Your legs hesitated forward, moving one of the bodies closest to you. It slumped forward, slamming hard against the plate. You had to stifle a scream as you watched the neck loosen slightly. You looked around the table, almost all of the bodies were in some different state of decay, the one across you drenched in blood, her hair matted hair almost withering off her head. You almost choked on your own shaking urge not to freak out. 

Quivering, your legs shuffled away from the party. Moving onward, you found yourself hugging the axe slightly. Unfurling only when you entered the medic bay. You noted a now bloodied gurney resting against one of the false windows. The crimson lighting only intensifying the horrifying feel ."Least this'll be one of the more interesting stories". Your voice wobbled as you tried to twist this into some kind of joke. You remembered why you came here, moving around the space to grab anything of worth. You hesitated on the computer but decided on most of the medical supplies. 

You nodded at your new pile of bounty, finishing up your rounds by finally entering the engineering room. The darkened hallways tightened your nerves  Another body, this one slumped against a few rows of pods, a gun nearby. You kicked the body with the tip of your boot, almost expecting it to lurch like a slasher and attack... Nothing. You moved around once again. Finally contempt you..

You paused, someone was here. Your head whipped instinctively towards the row of cryogenics, a piercing blue eye watched, unblinking. Finally, you let out a heart dropping scream in shock, dropping a tool kit in a jump against the wall. The eye remained fixed on you, you moved forward carefully. You noticed that it almost looked like a corpse, bandages covering most of the face. You looked around hesitantly, scuttling back to the toolkit before making your leave. You dropped it by the pile, you cursed yourself out slightly as you had to whittle down your carrying size for the passageway back. Sighing as you looked around once again, someone must've gone mad, you pondered if the person in cryostatus wasn't the culprit but, given the body next to it, you almost questioned if it wasn't him. 

You let out a weak chuckle at the idea as you pushed another  pile of loot into your own ship. Turning to finish up, you hesitated. Looking towards the flickering lights. You were stupid, so fucking stupid for this. Once again hacking into the foam to make the exit big enough, and making sure your own medic bay  was loaded with all the things you had grabbed, you stormed back towards the cryogenics. Moving the slumped body against one side of the wall, you consulted the pod. You fiddled with a pin pad aside it, frowning at the absurdity of the idea before finally giving up and cracking out your axe on the poor thing.  The door slid open in a hiss of dry ice. The man slumped forward, drooping slightly as you slid over to grab him, struggling with the abrupt weight as you finally noticed the state of the body. 

Burnt, bloodied flesh stained your jumpsuit, you noticed the body was essentially a torso. One leg shorter than the other, you let out a shuddered gasp as you stumbled for support. Finally, your leg gave up, letting you and the body drop against the wall with a thud, what remained of his legs getting caught between yours slightly . "Ah! I am s-so fuckin' sorry sir!", nothing. You got back up shakily, moving the person around awkwardly until he was resting in your arms, part of his chest resting against yours. 

You had no idea where to begin, leaving the ship had been a pain in it of itself but you barely remembered CPR procedures, let alone any actual medical practices. For now you carefully redressed the body as you could and waited, making sure not to jostle it too much and slid a pillow under his head. He twitched slightly, you ignored it. Going about your organization of the items. You felt shitty pocketing someone's Gameboy, but you at least hoped the owner would've been proud it got to be enjoyed again...maybe. You had also decided to grab some of the mouthwash as a joke, putting it in your bathroom alongside one of the first aid kits. Some cute Pony Express safety posters now also blessed your sleeping pod and main work space.

You smiled, moving through the rest of the haul, until a series of weak croaks and groans made you jump, whipping to return to first aid over the finally awake body. "S-sorry 'bout that bud!", you turned to consult him. Turning around to fumble with the first aid kit as he began to writhe, "alright alright cool it!". You hesitantly let a few pain killers slip into your hand as you attempted to drop them in, his mouth remained shut. Your fingers padded delicately against his jaw. "What's wrong?".

He stayed silent, you sighed, putting the pills on the side of the bed, you made your way to the sink. You were honestly amazed you hadn't considered this before, then again you were the kind of madman to dry swallow anything that was smaller than a penny before. You placed the cup to one side and put the pills near it. Turning to watch your patient, he seemed somewhat antsy over the meds. "Look I'd rather bring a living person back if that's ok so...". He remained tense, jerking his head around as you tried to hold it. "So you don't like it when I touch ya...".

You lent down to meet his eye, your gaze softening. "I promise to be gentle 'kay? Just...". You faltered, you didn't know how to approach this. He watched in paranoid silence. "I'll be careful ok, if I hurt you I won't prod any further". He stayed silent, a feverish wheeze punctuating the silence. Finally, his mouth cracked open slightly, your fingers carefully sliding the pills far back down his throat, a trickle of  water washed them down more as you lifted his head slightly. Finally he relaxed, you let him rest back on the pillow as you sat back, "y'good now?" he choked out an affirmation. 

You sighed, you knew what this meant, instant u turn to Earth, you let him be as you went back to alter your course. An automated voice confirmed your command as you went back to the medical bay. The man continued to stare at the wall, watching your own T.V windows in a daze. You lent against the wall, letting your arms fold over themselves. You watched silently, he didn't seem to be in any additional pain aside from the burns. You couldn't help but feel slight guilt over his  bloodied gown, not wanting to remove for fear of hurting him. You faked a cough to get his attention. His bloodshot eye turned to watch you, slightly panicked, as you made your way to the chair once again.

  "Set a course t' take us back to Earth...this is way too outta my hands for me to do anything. If you need anything though I won't be too busy". The unblinking eye burrowed into your lazy gaze as you stifled another cough. "I'll let you be then-". The stub of his arm had moved towards your resting elbow. It flinched away on instinct before hesitantly moving back. Carefully, you let it rest against the stub. "Guess it's been a while huh? S-speaking to anyone I mean". He let out a groaned sigh (you assumed at least) of longing. You nodded solemnly, "Y'want me to sleep here for the night then?". You left before he could answer, grabbing a sleeping bag from within your wardrobe and  returned, cosying it against the medical bed. 

The soft glow of the artificial moon now seeped into the room as you went through your nightly tasks, sorting anything else you had forgotten. You let your jumpsuit soak in the washroom as you cleaned up, returning to the medical bay just as you watched the torso flop onto your sleeping bag. You trotted over and helped him back up carefully, holding him once again in your arms, "you good?!". He squirmed in your arms, hugging your chest whilst his head burrowed into your neck, almost avoiding eye contact with the bed. 

"Damn bud w-what...". You sighed weakly. Moving him back onto the bed as you grabbed your sleeping bag to form a makeshift blanket over you. Pulling the chair close enough, you struggled to hop over the man so you were facing the window. You couldn't help but sleepily close your eyes. The man shuddered again, you turned to face his back, letting your hand rest delicately against it. He winced, your hand retracted just as quick. Struggling to pull your head against the pillow properly, you found yourself rambling. "Y'know...I kinda like the beds here better than the ones in the sleeping bay". You chuckled slightly as you continued, "way nicer". 

Your eyes shifted to watch the breathing of the man. His movements ragged and visceral, you hesitated. Resting a hand against the fabric of his gown. He jolted, a sharp dry shriek of pain, your hand retracted. "S-sorry! S...so it...hurts less with the painkillers?". A faint grunt that confirmed your question. You nodded, turning once again as to not stress him. A faint comment seemed to grab your attention, 's...stars...'. You hummed in agreement, you didn't remember why you felt the urge to douse the medical bay in glow in the dark stickers, but you supposed it made you feel more comfortable. "I like 'em". Your voice was softer, almost light as you began to slip deeper into a sleepy lull. 

You shuffled slightly in your sleep, pressing up against the wall as the figure turned. Your eye slid open, meeting the glistening bloodshot view of him. You flinched, a mirrored response as you let out a breathy chuckle, "asshole". You laid on your back, watching the false stars shine softly overhead. "Gotta be hard to sleep though...". Your arms folded under your head, propping it up tightly as to not touch the flesh beside you. "I got a sleep mask if that helps...". He continued watching, an unreadable gaze that irked you slightly. "Can I...I know this sounds stupid, but...". You got up. 

Dragging the sleeping bag along, you flicked the nearby table lamp on. Looming over the now frozen form of your pseudo patient, he immediately began to writhe, bucking in fear as he watched your hands. You paused, relaxing your shoulders, you rested your hand onto his jaw, your cold fingers ghosting over his burned cheek. You could've sworn his cheek weighted slightly into the curve of your palm for a bit. Carefully, you re adjusted the pillow under the his head, before cautiously scooping him back into your arms.

Carefully, so carefully, you zipped him just enough into the sleeping bag. The thick padding seeming to muffle most of your contact with him. You couldn't help but let out a proud scoff, moving back to the window as you watched him wriggle slightly. "Feelin' better?". No comment, you smiled softly. "Y'know, I never managed to get your name". It took a bit before you got an answer, albeit punctuated by infrequent wheezes. "Curly...kinda ironic now huh". Another unamused grunt retorted your quip.  You slipped closer, your chest  resting against him tenderly. You lay there for a bit once again, the cold groaning of your own ship echoing slightly as you lay. Some stupid part of your brain finally kicked in when you embraced him, wrapping your arms around his chest. He writhed under your embrace. Attempting to free himself, his back spasmed and a series of frantic wheezings escaped his weak jaw. You hushed him slightly, nuzzling your head into his padded chest. "It's ok...you're ok...". You continued to soothe him softly.  He froze, sighed pathetically after a while, the fatigue finally sinking in for him, resting his chin softly against your neck. Your grip remained soft, gently reassuring him he was safe.

He was going home.

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

2 months 29 days before reaching Earth. 

You frowned from your calculator to your pile of perceived valuables. Just under $90 in estimated value. Sighing, you put the calculator back to one side and slumped forward, cradling your head between your hands. You were already struggling with keeping Curly alive long enough before you reached Earth. Your own quantity of painkillers now dwindling. His state and breathing getting more ragged and feeble.

Some morbid part of you considered killing him in a twisted form of sympathy. I mean, you were almost always alone in space, you hadn't alerted that many people to your plight aside from a friend's lawyer for a legal chew out on what remained of Pony Express, and an awaiting hospital. Your hands physically coiled at the very concept. You'd done this on a whim, letting out a quivering huff, you returned to your own miniature dining area.

The table was one you had managed to save from wood rot, and it was sure as hell obvious. Some of the new legs looked to be from different makes, despite a fresh coat of wood dye. Curly sat on one side, you felt bad just letting him wither in bed all day, allowing him to move from space to space kept him somewhat upbeat. Even letting him sit next to you on your usual naps in the cockpit.

He seemed to be as frail as you felt, still wheezing pathetically, staring ahead whilst his mouth silently gasped. You moved over, his body shook ever so slightly, but relaxed once you pulled up the chair across from him.  Your fingers fiddled between each other in a grip. "We're running low on painkillers". Your tone dried, you felt stupid admitting it out loud but given how he could still react via often jerky movements. It felt like having a mute puppet living with you, one that at least seemed to acknowledge your small talks. "I'm not sure if this will affect anything but I might have to start cutting you down to one, just in case". 

His head turned away. You frowned weakly, "I'm sorry if this hurts but, I can't risk anything before we get back". He stayed silent, you looked out to where he was staring, the 'living room', two beaten sofas and a busted radio resting beside a small lamp, you had played a few songs for him already that he liked, he always preferred your softer ones over the more aggressive music you played during work (at least when you were alone), maybe... "We can relax if you want...", nothing. You wearily admitted defeat for once, "I'm....I'm going to sort a few things out if that's ok...". His arm moved towards yours, resting tenderly against yours for a bit. You cocked your head slightly, "I...I don't wanna sound corny but.. y-y'know if there's anything wrong you can tell me". 

He stayed silent, his ragged breathing filling the space as you waited hesitantly.

'Sc...a...red'. His voice almost sounded timid, "of what, going back?". No reply... you looked back down at his stub, you swore if he had hands he'd be frantically trying to grasp yours. "welp, I won't pry if you don't want-". You paused, both of his stubs rested against your arm now, almost trying to pull you back towards the chair. You looked back at him, for once he made direct eye contact, his burning gaze moistening slightly. Your mouth quivered, you felt your heart sink in weakness. Getting up slowly, he seemed desperate to keep you near. You beside him, what remained of his legs shifting slightly as you knelt next to him. 

Without saying anything you slowly rested your hands on what remained of his, your finger pads gently stroking them, he continued. An uncomfortable pathetic wheeze of a cry that made your heart ache for his unintelligible plight. "It's ok...", the same drying comfort. His already strained voicebox struggled as he let something slip. 'P...pl...ease...I'. You pulled him closer, his body slipping away from the chair slightly as you continued to console him. His arms rested at his sides, his voice quivering harder from the slight pain. He went limp, you froze. His breathing remained ragged against your ear. Your own breathing began to weaken, moving him back to the medic bay in a daze. You rested him rest gently on the bed as you checked him. 'he must've passed out from stress...'.

Finally, you gave up. Sitting back down on the chair and waiting for him to wake up. Once again, you got up after what felt like hours and sat back in your armchair, playing a random song.

1 month before reaching Earth. 

He seemed emotionally shell shocked, falling silent whenever you brought up himself. You tried to think of  any reasons on why but you assumed, still remembering the haunting scent of decay and iron on the ship, that he had witnessed something. You tried to keep his spirits up as well, still coming in to check on him with a friendly tone and playing songs for him. But he remained silent, you felt your stomach sink ever lower. Catching him wake up in a panic or trying to hide his gaze from the blazing warmth of the artificial sunset when it began to dip into the night. You managed somewhat to keep yourself going with something-anything else, but your mind continued to linger on him.

You found yourself resting against his bed as you dozed. The day had dragged harder than normal, not being able to get a full contact going with the hospital for any advice. Alongside the usual feeding of one pill causing Curly to nearly choke. You slept before him, too tired to move away.

His arm fidgeted near yours, his eye resting on your face. He watched. You shifted slightly, your head nestling further between your arms. His arm strained until it reached your head, petting the top of it gently as you slept. He turned away, looking up at the static moon that washed over the room in a melancholy light. She would've like you, he struggled to smile slightly at the notion. He was sure Daiskue would be ecstatic to know you had managed to beat his own high scores. His eye warbled slightly as tears began to trickle down his cheek at the thought. You shifted, he turned over to watch as you sat up, blearily rubbing your eye. "Guess I'll go back t'my room...". Your voice sounded softer than usual. 

His mind went blank, his voice hoarse as you began to make your way back to your roo- "d-don't go...". You almost screeched at how humanly coherent the voice was. Your head instinctively whipped back around into the room to a splutter of coughing and wheezing from Curly. "Y-you...". You slid back into the room, flicking the bedside lamp on, looking over him as he tried to maintain his breathing. "A-are you ok?!". He tried to maintain his breathing for a bit before nodding. You sat back down in your chair, almost feeling guilty for waiting so hopefully for another response. He motioned with an arm something. 

"You wanna talk?". He nodded, you smiled weakly. "Y'wanna nod?". He paused, sheepishly nodding with a small chuckle. You sighed, sitting beside him, "le'mme guess, you're annoyed you can't do much right now". He paused, his eye tracing your face before nodding. You smiled slightly, you hit him with a few light hearted ones first. Slowly building up the courage before you blurted out something that was gnawing at the back of your mind since his episode. "You don't want to talk about your crew but you feel terrible about them". 

He froze, then slowly nodded. "I'm also gonna assume you feel responsible even though your like this?". He stopped for a bit, looking back down at his hands before turning back and shaking his head slowly. That genuinely caught you off guard. Finally, you had a gut churning thought. "You feel responsible for not helping them because you got yourself like this?" His nodding began to grow timid, finally you got an answer. "But the burns aren't your fault?". He shook his head, "you did something wrong?". Another nod, you felt your chest heave as you made your biggest leap in assumptions. "Someone else did this didn't they? but you're talking the wrong blame". 

Your eye caught a near nod as he jerked upwards slightly. Once again, slumping back in bed. "Whatever you did, it's ok to feel guilty for. It's natural but...you can't blame yourself for another persons fuck up if they were in full control". He looked back to you, his eye once again wavering. He motioned for you to come closer, leaning in hesitantly for another hug. You stayed in his embrace for a bit until you had the same idea from when you first picked him up, once again writhing out of his embrace before moving back to the window. Slipping onto the bed alongside him as you continued your soft embrace. 

Your hands found themselves resting on his back, stroking his back delicately, you lulled yourself slightly into a sleepy daze. His strained, rapsy voice slipped out in-between the gentle strokes, but you understood what he said perfectly. 'I don't want to go back...I'm scared, please...you're the only thing I've been able to keep close for this long...I...I want you to hurt me, I...', he let out a slight wheeze of a laugh as he continued his gentle rambling. 'I want to know I've done wrong...to my crew...to my friend. I-I...I'm scared of facing what I've done". 

He motioned you to pull away for a bit. His eye fixating indefinably on your face. Your brain did it again, another stupid impulse as you melted into the rotten kiss he suddenly pulled you into, your lips struggling to stay gentle against his vulnerable teeth and flesh. 

'please...'. He panted his plea out weakly between the moment. 'T...take me away'. You almost nodded, before realising what that would mean, you pulled away, looking into his soft gaze. "I-I can't...I told you...you can't be responsible for everything, but...but you have to own up to what you've done, I swear I won't let the world see you if it's too much, I promise". You raised a pinky and let it dink delicately against his nub of an arm as his embrace weakened. "You're ok, I told you before...", your voice lightened with a small smile. "You're going to be ok". 

0 months 1 day from destination.

[search-pluto]

I.

he wakes in an overgrown clearing, cracked masonry in a circle around a crumbling well.

three paths shoot off from the laid work, equally as overgrown. he gets up, wonders around, looking down each road, sunny and warm, dark and foggy, flowering with life, before choosing one.

he hesitates as he follows the laid stone, through the dry path. he pushes his thin sweater sleeves up to his elbows, swatting away the stretching brittle branches and dense spider webs overcrowding his path. he marches straight on towards a glade past the starving trees, a stunning meadow full of flowers mating with many buzzing insects, teams of hares and swarms of birds take their rightful spots in nature, a butterfly passing by his peripherals.

he hears a familiar cracking sound, the breath taking smell of a campfire flooding his nose, he turns to find who else might be here in this heaven.

small flames, never contained to a designated ring of rocks, pass through brittle bushes like a virus. it doesnt take long to overwhelm, the fire beginning to tear through the wilderness. the scared cawing of the birds above, the rustling of rodents scurrying through the grass and flowers, shortly followed by the hazing air of a hot fire.

the inferno marches on, nature bowing at its feet.

he feels the fire encroach, swallowing all around him. tears and sweat boil off his crisping skin. the dry air is suffocating, the smoke inducing a fogging high he never wishes to feel again. hell takes over this beautiful place, and he, too, bows at its feet.

he gasps for clean air, waking again by the well.

he contorts his body to stare down the path he somehow returned from, before collapsing again on his back. he insists to stay here, trapped forever by his indecision. he should try to leave, the sun sets, no, he should try another path, the moon is nowhere to be found. he should lay here on the warm ground for an eternity, stars sparkling, he paces the stones, the stars surrender to the suns holy light, he stares down a dark path, the sun hesitates to lighten the way, desperate prayers fall from his lips.

‘one, two,’ he gets ready, as if to run a marathon, ‘three.’ not even a whisper.

he surges forward, sprinting into the foggy forest ahead of him. he treads, through a path that grows wetter and slushier, muddier and murkier.

decaying, unrecognizable trash begins to litter the path and surroundings, the water rises around his shoes, tin cans and plastic water bottles, new and old, float along the stagnant water.

he stops once the water drowns his shoes, looking out toward a bog, simmering and sweaty, garbage and rotting food wasting away as it bobs, floating in the swamp. like an island, smelly and horrible, grey, brown, and putrid.

the water rises, more trash riding in from tides all around, lurching out of the surrounding forest to suffocate the air. he tries to turn back, he clearly chose the wrong path again, but the mud below him traps his ankles with an impossible weight. the water rises, mixing with plastic and chemicals, mud and grime. he sucks in his last chance of air, squeezing his eyes shut. he reaches down, attempting to wrench his foot out of the ground. an old net swims along, holding his hands down certainly, more unrecognizable litter piling onto him, holding him under the bog. something hits the back of his head and he gasps, lurching forward as the sting of the water filling his lungs fills his nervous system. he screams, water bubbling out of his chest as the world fades to black.

he coughs, sitting up as he painfully chokes on his body’s sticky memory of liquid in his lungs. he sucks in the cool breeze and feels his shaking limbs still. he calms, back to square one. it’s best for last, he hopes, while his unsteady feet guide him towards the pleasant smell of honeyed flowers.

bright petalled bushes speckle the shrubbery and grasses creeping into the laid stones.

he gets a sense of something horrible, he hopes he’s ready for what’s to come, the smell of disgust wafting through the air. he turns another curve in the path, now mostly dirt, with smaller, sparser stones to guide his limp, the forest around him growing denser yet.

he sees a moose, or maybe, rather, what was once a moose. the electricity in it drained a long time ago, along with most of its blood.

he throws up from the sight of it. he’s never been good with gore. he slinks by the corpse, leaving it behind to continue his dauner, further into the woods. the smell never leaves his senses, however, drifting along with him endlessly through the untrodden trail. he teeters around the corners, upset at the stench growing stronger, the terrible taste on his tongue. he peers past an old tree, finding a spot the sun rays loom over. they illuminate a deer, torn open from the torso. several deers litter the ground, a pack of coyotes keeled over all around as well, foam fizzling out of their mouths and into the wet ground. squirrels begin to fall from their homes in the trees above, making horrid smushed sounds as they hit the grass, the rocks, the deer, the coyotes, the squirrels, he throws up again.

he reaches a hand for the tree bark, to hold him steady. it doesn’t look right in his vision, he falters, and turns to look closer. his skin bubbles, blisters bursting under the pressure of boiling blood and puss. his skin greys, shrivelling away off the bones as his muscle fibres fall apart. it travels, a rotting poison flowing up his arteries. through his arm, into his shoulder, back, chest, he can’t breathe, his neck, his face, he can’t see. he crumbles without any muscles to support him, twitching as his eyes melt, his gums losing hold of his teeth. his lungs deflate, his heart goes numb, the leaves eventually cover any evidence he was there at all.

he wakes again in a jolt, like his heart had, just now, began to pump.

he stares at the gloomy clouds above him, feeling the spit of a spared rain drop hit his cheek. he cries, a sob that rakes through his skin. he rolls over, tucking his knees into his chest, the rain becoming a constant, gaining a weight that feels piercing.

he hears the rain clang against the tin roof of the well beside him. he looks up at the cracked stones that make up the well. he stands, rushed, dizzying as his heart beats harder. he pears over the ledge and down into the cold air of the well. a hole in the roof allows a leak, he listens to the arhythmic pattern of rain drip far, far down into the tunnel, barely hearing each one hit the ground below.

he hops onto the chilled ledge, looking for a shield from the rain, swinging his legs over one at a time. the clanging of the tin makes the rain sound like a hail storm, echoing into the air all around him. its almost deafening. the wind picks up, a skelp of frozen mist meeting his face. he tries to burrow into his scratchy jumper, sleeves sheltering cowering hands.

the wind changes direction, clawing into the back of his neck, frozen rain matting into his hair.

the tin begins to bend away, off its holdings, he shrinks into his chest as the winds tear it away. he shivers, feeling his skin prickling, growing numb as the freeze sinks into him.

a whisper, ‘give up, Auriel,’ traces the back of his ear. he jolts alert, slipping from the icy ledge. he hits the opposing wall, then again, bouncing around down the narrow cavity until hitting cold, hard ground. he hears cracks and crinkles coming from every part of his frozen body, frozen bones. he can’t hear his screams before he blacks out entirely.

��

chapter one of a book i hope i write

[deanthe]

HAY IM BACK

technically i never left, sorry for not posting in a long while!!

anyway here's some ena shit that i made yesterday

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

trying to psych myself up to finally do oc refs by doing fandom-related refs instead: volume 1

wanted to update my yuma from whatever tf this au is so he was a bit more unique... takes inspo from a lot of different things while also trying to be its own sorta thing? which is fitting given the au ;)

bonus chibi now that i'm also figuring out how tf to do chibis lol:

[frostynovaprime]

Entrati Tennogen pt 2: Gara boogaloo

[maplefield]

kinda funny in a sorta sad way how people will be calling a character trash before they're even out and then upon release when they realize the character is actually good they start comparing them to earlier units and calling THEM trash

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[justghostthings]

My partner 💞💞💞💞💞💞🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[hai-nae]

welp i did it again, i finally posted the piece i actually finished awhile ago for kat|verse on ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/47551195 the leopard pose was referenced by that picture of a lioness and cub by photographer yaron schmid.

[solar--spectrum]

We got so high the only memories of a very long complex important conversation (one-sided entirely more of a rant) between CB and 🐙 look like... this

See more rant in the comments ☆ I lost control!

[emuwarum]

I have to wonder in minecraft lore, what’s up with all the hearts. heart of ender heart of the sea, what’s up with all that. is the wither’s star its heart too? and the redstone heart from mcsm though that doesn’t apply to main minecraft lore

oh yeah and the wardens heartbeat. what’s going on here

[themyscirah]

This is technically a Diana's age poll but I framed it partially around Julia's rescue because that's the event I need to contextualize and whether or not Diana is a thing yet is p important for my purposes. I would keep the Pérez run and postcrisis continuity in mind when answering this bc that's when this is relevant but I'd keep in mind that even though Diana is very young there (like early 20s) we don't know I don't think if she ages differently as a child (esp as a themysciran AND being made from clay) and in some versions she is older than she looks and was made earlier

Edit: I accidentally logic-ed this out in the tags lol 🤦‍♀️but feel free to still vote however you want. Going to publish this anyway bc I think I made some good points later in my tags

[silverselfshippingchaos]

i love my husband he's so silly goofy!!

[fluent-in-lesbianism]

Are you aware of moonbyul?

Everyone thinking I've never listened to/heard of kpop, when it's literally pretty women singing and dancing in tandem, is a testament of how well I've accidentally hidden my obsession with female kpop groups/artists on here. I'm so sorry 😔

[butchlifeguard]

i think something im never accepting is the word theyfab. no matter who you use it towards even if theyre a bad person. its like the trans version of making fun of donald trump because he has a small dick and not that hes an extreme racist with too much power