#i get the void/black hole and even the earth people

[junk-heart]

People are debating which celestial body Scar should be, and I argue Mercury (totally not because it's my personal favourite planet and he's my favourite character or anything)

Actually, it's for the same reason as why I like Mercury:

Deity connected to it is the protector of traders, travelers, tricksters and liars (which is the best description of Scar lmao)

The planet has no moons cause of it's proximity to the Sun, and it might have had moons in the past before it got too close to it (he killed Perl in the end and Grian was crucial to his win against Gem)

It spins the other way from all the other planets (can symbolise how this season he was unable to sink up with anyone like he usually does)

The planet of Mercury is very hot and nothing can live on it as far as we know (water would insta evaporate on it) which again reminds me of the desert and the first season

[zelphin124]

Killer x Y/N short story

One of the few short stories I will be writing. Requested by the wonderful @itsxroxannex as her honorable mention prize.

I do write commissions and short stories! Do you want a story? I can work with a small price (:

I'm using an image from Bing Image Creator to help the readers visualize where they are at and who they are talking to. It's for visual purposes only, and I do not claim it.

Enjoy the story!

~o0o~

The light from the sun bouncing off the rock hallways started to fade as the moon rose. The dripping from the ceiling had stopped, and monsters and humans started filling the tavern. It was supposed to be very busy tonight.

The tavern was underground, just below the surface life. Dartboards hung across the walls on various barrels. Small candles were lit beside them, either hanging from the ceiling or resting on uniquely carved tables. Carpets were strung across the floor, filled with old designs and symbols that the humans didn't understand, and the monsters refused to explain.

The bar itself looked like any other bar, but the counters were carved into the rocks and the drinks were stored within the earth. The tables were made from woven branches, and the chairs were also made from scattered parts of trees that were no longer needed elsewhere.

You weren't much for drinking. You had only come to the bar to talk with your friend, Shiro. Shiro ran the place during slow hours. Now that the night rush was coming, his co-workers came in to help him run the shift. He wouldn't have much time to talk anymore.

You started to pack your computer, flinging your bag over your shoulder. Shiro had told you of the many tales and tragedies that happen during the night rush, and you didn't want to stick around to become one of them.

"Leaving so soon?" Shiro asked as he wiped the table where you just sat. His baggy white hair fell over his face, and he smiled softly.

"You know how I am with crowds," you responded, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn't. "Well, surely it shouldn't be that busy tonight-"

He was cut off as three skeletons walked down the entrance stairs. It was apparent that they were some sort of gang, as they all wore the same-colored jacket, pants, and shoes. Each of them stood proudly as everyone went silent.

The tallest one had a large hole in his head, and his left eye was huge. It glowed red and barely made any movement when he looked around. He hunched over and had a large ax on his back. He never stopped smiling, which left an unhinged feeling in everyone who saw it.

The shortest one wore a hood over his head. His eyes glowed red, and one of them had a purple and blue tint to it. Unlike his tall counterpart, he never smiled. He glared at everyone who even dared to look at him. Monster ash covered his clothes, sparking fear in all who noticed.

The third one seemed the most normal of the group. His smile was contagious, and his extroverted personality always drew attention to him. Big black stripes dripped from his void eyes down to his neck. His coat was fluffier than the rest, and his soul wasn't hidden. It hung in front of his chest like a big red target. He twirled a knife in his hand before resting it by his side.

The Murder Time Trio, you recalled. You recognized each of their faces from wanted posters across the town. Working under Nightmare, they worked to harvest negativity.

The Star Sanses - rulers of this AU amongst many others - wanted to bring them to justice, but with all of the Sanses abilities to travel alternate universes, they were hard to track down.

You couldn't buy into the fact there were other worlds than your own. The only reason you believed it was the evidence before you; multiple versions of the same person taking different paths.

Shiro glanced over as the tavern filled with noise and music again. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a notepad and pen before walking over to the table they sat at.

The dart games began. Multiple people threw darts across the room to the targets. According to Shiro, this was how all the drama started. Someone would think a shot was unfair, and a fight would break out.

Deciding it wasn't the best idea to stay any longer, you weave through the crowd of monsters and humans trying to get to the bar to drink. You glanced at the table where the trio sat as they talked with Shiro. You pray they don't do anything to your friend.

As you stood between the dart targets, waiting for the round to be over, you eavesdrop on Shiro's conversation. He seemed bored, surprisingly.

"I'll have a margarita," the striped face one said.

"A big beer, please," Horror lowered his head.

"Think you can handle one of those again, Horror?" The striped face asked.

Horror didn't answer him. He waved his hand in dismissal to Shiro as he looked at the menu.

"I see," Shiro scribbled down the orders on his paper. "And for you, Dust?"

"Nothing," the hooded skeleton replied. "Someone has to be sober when Killer isn't."

"Hey, I would do just fine," Killer smirked. "I don't see you..."

The conversation faded out of hearing as shouts echoed across the tavern. Glancing behind you, you see a human and a monster arguing about who hit the target first as they shot their darts at the same time. The shouts almost frightened you, and you didn't think before stepping forward. Your goal was to get away from the chaos before more violence broke out. Maybe you shouldn't have come here, maybe it was a bad idea after all.

A dart flew towards your face.

You didn't have time to react before you were pulled off your feet, resting in the mercy of someone's arms as he caught the dart. "Woah darling, careful there," he sighed, his head turning toward the people who threw it.

You realize the man, or the skeleton that saved your head was Killer. His grip was firm around your waist from when he had pulled you away from the weapon. He dropped the dart and continued to glare at the monster that had thrown it.

The people playing the particular dart game went dead silent, all pointing to the person who threw the dart. He didn't seem to care. "Oh, come on, she walked in front of it! It's not my fault!"

"Pay attention to your surroundings more, mm?" Killer smirked, tilting his head. He turned towards you before the others could reply. "You too, cutie," he smirked, poking your nose. "Gotta be careful in places like these~"

His grip on your waist loosened as you backed up. A blush painted your face as you stared up at him. As your blush increased, so did his smile, making you blush more. The blood rushed to your face as you tried to cover your cheeks with your favorite-colored scarf.

"Do you seriously have to flirt with everyone you see, Killer?" Dust snapped, opening a deck of cards and flushing them across the table.

"Look at them, they're pretty!" Killer replied. "I didn't want them to get scratched by a silly dart!"

"Then they shouldn't be in a place like this," Horror rolled his eyes, glancing at the deck of cards Dust had started dealing.

Instant guilt washed over you. You didn't mean to cause any trouble, and Shiro was nowhere in sight to defend you. You gesture to Killer, thanking him for saving you before telling him you'll leave to not cause any more trouble.

Killer looked you up and down, smiling as his eyes made their way back to your face. "What's your name, Hun?" He smirks slyly.

You tell him your name, scratching your head in the process. One of the most wanted men in the multiverse was talking to you. In fact, he smiled when he looked at you. How could this be?

"Y/N, what a beautiful name," Killer takes a step closer to you, extending his hand. "You plan to get on out of here? I can make sure you get home safely."

You open your mouth to accept the offer but hesitate. He, along with his friends, were mass killers. It was obvious by the dust and blood across their clothes. Was he going to kill you? You had no idea.

If he was, then why would he go out of his way to pull you away from an incoming dart?

"Killer, you play or not?" Horror asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Not now," Killer didn't take his eyes off you. "I wish to walk this lovely human home."

"Oh, can I come?" Horror smirked, his hand reaching for his ax.

Dust slapped his hand. "Not that kind of walk home," Dust rolled his eyes. "Look at him! His soul his turning into a heart! Pathetic, really."

Dust wasn't lying. Killer's soul had taken the form of an upside-down heart momentarily. You tilt your head in curiosity, surely that was a good sign.

"Hey!" The monster that had thrown the dart earlier shouted. "You broke my dart with your disgusting fingers!"

Killer raised his eyebrows as he shrugged. "Oops."

"That dart cost me hundreds of G!" He growled. "You're gonna pay for that!"

You felt Killer's hands run along your shoulders. "Time to go~" he whispered behind you.

As the monster tumbled near, he suddenly faded from sight. Everything vaporized into stripes as the underground tavern disappeared and was quickly replaced with the cool breeze of the surface.

The moon glimmered in the sky next to the stars as it shined down on the slightly paved street. There were no streetlights, but you could see the village in the distance. Fireflies glittered the sky along with the stars. There were a few trees and a river to cross, and the bridge over the river linked the road.

"Whew, that was close," Killer chuckled, letting go of you. He walked over to your side and smirked down at you. "Don't worry, he won't catch us now."

"Thank you," you sighed with a smile before walking toward the village.

Killer started to follow you. "Hey, I know we like, just met, right? This is a little crazy," he glanced down at the ground as he caught up to you. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he couldn't stop smiling. "But can I get your number?"

You widened your eyes, surprised. He really wanted your number after two minutes. Surely that couldn't be... This couldn't be happening, right? Wasn't that a red flag of some sort, and you, out of all people? You didn't see why someone as famous and as brave as him would pay attention-

You snapped back into reality, realizing that you had given him your phone, and he was already punching in his own number.

"Thanks, doll," Killer smiled to himself. "I didn't expect you to actually say yes. I'll fulfill my promise; let's get you home safely."

How the- you paused, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Despite the darkness and eerie noises surrounding you, you felt at peace. You couldn't help but wonder if that was because a skilled killer was by your side, ready to defend you if anything came your way. He made that clear with his actions at the tavern.

It didn't take long for Killer to start a conversation. He asked many questions and answered any questions you had. He often would laugh, smile, and tease you in such a way that made the butterflies in your stomach squirm. He was very charming, flirtatious, and unique. You couldn't recall if you met anyone like him.

And you liked that.

He was so different from everyone else that you had met, treated you well, and it was so easy to be yourself around him. He brought out a side of you that you thought died a long time ago. That side that made you feel... wild and free.

"Look look look," Killer begged, running off the path toward a lake. He picked up a rock and threw it across the water's surface. It must have skipped a hundred times before it plunged into the depths below. He picked up another one and did the same thing. "It's perfect water to skip the rocks on!"

You join his side and sit on a boulder nearby, watching him skip rocks as he continues to tell you about the first time won a card game, which you learned wasn't very often due to Dust having a special connection with cards.

"The look on his face when I won, hah! Priceless! Should've known better to have challenged me!"

You asked him if he had won the next two games after that.

"Uh, no, but that's not the point silly!" He smiled, heaving a great sigh as he looked up at the stars. He closed his eyes, letting the wind blow across his face as the ripples on the lake settled. The moon complimented his face and made him seem so peaceful and innocent. It highlighted his chest and showed the two small eyes that he had hidden within his skull.

You commented how he looks great in the moonlight. When he asked you how so, you got up and pointed out the various places the moonlight shined on him, and how it made him look so handsome.

"Tch, you're sweet," Killer snickered, brushing the hair out of your face. "But the moonlight on me is better on you."

Before you could recover from the sudden blush, he continued. "Have you ever skipped a stone across the water?"

As you shook your head, Killer frowned. He turned you around to face the lake and picked a stone up from the ground, admiring it in the moonlight. "Here, I'll teach you darling." He placed the stone in your hand and gestured that you try.

You tossed the rock into the water, it sunk in front of you.

"Heh, not like that." Killer came up from behind you and grabbed your wrists gently. "Here, let me guide you."

For the next thirty minutes, Killer moved your wrists in the correct motion. He gave tips on what to do with your fingers when you release the rock. You would have gotten it much sooner if you weren't so distracted by his sweet breath brushing against your cheek.

As you threw your hundredth stone, it skipped across the water more times than you can count. Joy filled your face, and your smile only increased when you heard Killer congratulate you.

"That was awesome!" He gleamed, running his hand along his skull. He quickly picked up a stone and skipped it across the water to catch up with yours. "Fast learner, eh?"

Before you could reply, Killer came up to you and embraced you. His hug was so snug, you felt safe in his arms. You wrap your arms around his back as the tension in your body flees. He was so warm, and he held you so tight... you didn't want to leave his arms.

Alas, it didn't last for long. Killer smiled and took your hand, guiding you up back to the path. "Alright, it's best I get you home, cutie," he smiled slyly. "The boys are probably wondering where I am."

You were closer to your home than you thought, to your dismay. Killer stood close to you, putting his hood over his skull to hide his face from the town as they turned down the street to your house. You almost had forgotten that he was a wanted killer with how enjoyable your time was with him. Surely, he wasn't all everyone said he was... he was so nice to you.

"Lovely house you have, I'll have to visit you sometime," Killer commented, smiling his usual charming smile as you approached the door. "Y/N, it was fun getting to know you, I'll call ya, alright? You're too pretty to say goodbye to, anyway."

You invited him to stay and watch a movie, but he declined.

"Nah, I'm sure Dust and Horror would be suspicious... besides, I cannot stay in the town for long unless I want Nightmare mad..." He took a few steps toward you until he was inches away from your face. He continued to smile as he took your hand. "However," he paused. He lifted your hand up to his face and kissed it gently. Once he met your eyes again, he smirked softly again. "I'm sure I could make an exception for you another night."

You didn't know how much more of his teasing you could take as your face turned red. You held your hand as if it was made of diamonds.

"Heh, you're so cute," Killer backed up into the street. "See ya later, Y/N."

You barely waved in time before he vanished from sight.

You couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the night. He treated you kindly, and his jokes were so funny... you longed for his company, despite his reputation. How long had it been since the tavern? A couple of hours? Were all monsters like this? Maybe there was a special thing about monsters where you grew attached quicker than another human. As if they understood the value of another living being and had a way to make another feel at ease around them. You tried to figure it out as you winded down for the night.

Maybe they were masters at this feeling that you felt: love.

Or maybe Killer was just special like that.

[mi-i-zori]

When Silence is No More

CoD - Astronauts!141 x Cosmic Horror!Reader

SYNOPSIS : A quick thought about the 141 being stationed on a space station and catching the eyes of a cosmic horror.

WARNING : None. But this is intended to be a subtle kind of horror, so it might be unsettling. The x Reader part is very subtle, but it’s here !

Author’s Note : I was daydreaming, like I always do, and started to mix Space and Sea in a same setting again. So here you go.

I do not allow anyone to translate, re-use or re-publish my works, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

CoD AUs - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Contrary to what people might think, a space station isn’t really quiet.

First, there’s the constant humming of the machinery. They tend to forget it a lot, having gotten used to it echoing day and night in the back of their heads. There’s also their own voices - bantering, chatting, laughing, yelling, cursing. When they work on whatever machine needs maintenance at the time, the clinking and banging of tools also adds itself to the subtle cacophony that surrounds them on the daily.

Over the years, they’ve come to find it comforting. It’s the reason why, when repairs need to be made on the outside of the station, the cosmic silence sometimes makes them even more uneasy than it should ; especially when exhaustion weighs heavy on their bodies after months of floating away from the world, in a void where Mother Earth and the Moon both linger on the infinite horizon.

Those daily sounds bring them peace.

Until they don’t.

-

It comes slow, at first. It takes them a while to realise why they’ve all been feeling like something’s wrong. They couldn’t say how long, but after days of anxious fidgeting, awkward and confused silences, and constant checking of the machinery inside and outside of the station, Kyle abruptly interrupts himself in the middle of a sentence, a look of strange understanding on his face.

« Do you hear that ? » He says, and it’s when they finally all focus on their surroundings that they hear it.

There’s a peculiar melody floating in the air. A mesmerising song made of laughter, coos, and other sounds they’ve never heard before. For a moment, they think they left a CD player run somewhere in the station, close enough for them to hear - but they quickly realise that it’s not the case, and the confusion only gets stronger as they rattle their brains in order to find where that music could be coming from.

Simon mentions that it sounds like it’s coming from outside. A crazy thought. But the more time passes, the more it seems to be true.

The cosmos is no longer silent.

-

Then come the lights, adorned with colours they can’t bring themselves to describe. They light up the corridors of the station in the strangest of hues, creating new shadows in the corner of their eyes. Unfamiliar silhouettes giggle and dart in front of the windows, taking a second to cut the streams of light before immediately disappearing.

Are they inside the station ? Or are they outside ?

-

Johnny is the first to mention the dreams. But they all have them.

They all describe the same strange, almost fish-like creatures they see dancing in the blaze of supernovas. The same voices, high and low at the same time, calling them from the abyss of black holes. The same feeling of drowning among comets and asteroids, suffocating under the force of cold, invisible currents before suddenly being pulled away by scaly limbs.

They always wake up in the middle of the night, sweating bullets and cursing at the same, distant vision of round, slitted eyes and glowing fins. One that keeps haunting the back of their minds during the day.

-

Price doesn’t know if he should mention it to the team waiting for them at home. He could swear his daily check-ins with the base back on Earth keep getting interrupted by a strange rhythm of static, even though there seems to be no problem with the comms.

There’s a strange pressure in their stomachs now, that keeps growing with every new event. When they don’t instinctively hold their breaths as if they were underwater, they can hear the harmonious remnants of waves in their ears, feel an unfamiliar taste of salt on the back of their tongues. Sometimes, it becomes impossible to know whether they’re still dreaming or not, and they have to pinch each other’s cheeks to the point of bruising to realise they’re wide awake. It all looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels so real. Every single one of their senses is constantly filled to the brim with waves and waves of strange sensations.

The more time passes, the more they feel like they’re being watched. As if they had suddenly become a prey in the eyes of a being they are unable to see.

The radars, however, never show anything.

Are they having a collective hallucination ?

Or is there really something lurking behind the stars, watching their every movement, and tasting their fear with hunger in its eyes ? No matter what they do, the song never seems to stop.

And it’s the same thing with the growls.

[versegm]

Goredolf insists on meeting every new servant summoned to Chaldea.

First of all, he is literally the director; he wants people to at least have a vague idea of who he is and why he’s important here. Second of all, he almost had a heart attack the first time he walked into the cafeteria and ran into three different people wearing Koyanskaya’s face, so he wants the head’s up in case someone like Limbo or Rasputin gets summoned one day.

Unfortunately, that also means that sometimes, he gets in situations like this one.

“Hello!�� The new servant makes a little wave of the hand. “I was told to come meet you after my summoning. Happy to meet you!”

They’re wearing white, loose clothes, with black streaks here and there. He is pretty sure it’s a mystic code of sorts. They have black gloves and thick boots, the kind one brings for mountain climbing.

What they do not have, however, is a head.

It’s not even a Hessian situation. There is no black hole, no void, no fog to hide the deed. The servant has legs, a stomach, a chest, a neck, and then suddenly it gets cut off part a certain point. Goredolf can see the bare flesh on the cut, the blood pumping beneath, and even a bit of spinal cord. Needless to say, it’s quite disturbing.  

“My eyes are up there, director.” The servant says with a laugh, pointing at the empty space above the that definitely does not have eyes. “You shouldn’t be staring too much. It’ll make you sick.”

Goredolf coughs into his fist. “Apologies. I did not mean to be rude. It is merely a surprising sight, as you can imagine.” Still, he can’t help sneaking another glance at that neck. “Did you die of beheading?”

“Bit of a personal question, don’t you think?” Goredolf hears a laugh at the end of their sentence, though, so they’re probably? Not offended? Where is their voice even coming from? Goredolf genuinely can’t tell. “Mostly though, I forgot what I looked like. Don’t worry too much about it. I’m sure I’ll remember eventually.”

This is either a very obvious lie, or an incredibly sad fact, so Goredolf decides not to push it. “Anyways. I am Goredolf Musik, the director of Chaldea. As they probably already told you.” He adds hastily, remembering how the servant referred to him by title earlier.

The servant’s neck bobs forward. It takes Goredolf a second to realize this is meant to be a nod. “And I am Caster of Antartica.”

Ooh. It’s one of those. Circumstances being as they are, Goredolf often finds himself forgetting that knowing a servant’s true name is kind of A Big Deal. Rare are those who stick to anonymity- and even then, Goredolf is certain they’ve already disclosed their name to the Master specifically.

Goredolf’s gaze rakes the servant up and down once more. Caster of Antartica… Someone from an expedition to the poles, perhaps? A survivor of The Terror?

He’ll have to do some research later. For now, he extends a hand to them. “Glad to have you on board.”

“Likewise.” The servant says cheerfully. They grab Goredolf’s offered palm, shake it, and-

Their hand.

Their hand

Is

Trembling.

The clothes can be changed. The face can be hidden. The voice can be tweaked. But the hands. The hands. The hands. Trembling hands, scarred hands, damaged hands. Goredolf would recognize them anywhere. No glove on this earth, no matter how thick, would be enough to hide this tremble.

Goredolf pales. “You are-”

The servant suddenly pulls on his arm, and Goredolf tumbles right into their embrace, cut mid-sentence. They wrap both arms around him into a hug, rubbing circles against his back.

“My, Director. Don’t you know it’s rude to use the wrong name when someone introduce themself as something else?”

Their voice is friendly. Their hands are warm. Goredolf feels so, so deathly cold. “But- you-”

“Am merely a heroic spirit who heard a call for help, and decided to lend a hand. That is all there is to it.” They part from him with a tap on his shoulder. If they had a face, Goredolf just know they would be smiling, with that annoying fucking smile they always use when they are profoundly sad. “Now I believe my presence is upsetting you, so I will take my leave. Hopefully our paths will never cross again.”

They turn to leave, but Goredolf grabs onto the hem of their shirt. (He doesn’t recognize this uniform. Is this what they wore, prior to the lostbelts? Is it what they will wear, in the future?) “Wait! Does… does the Master know?”

The servant pauses, and Goredolf realizes how stupid of a question that was. Of course they do. The Master is many thing- lacking in common sense, way too friendly, garbage at magecraft- but if there’s one thing they have figured out, it’s servants. Of course they would know. Of course.

“… Don’t tell them.” The servant says eventually. “To say it out loud would be to speak it into existence. So long as no one says it, we can pretend. You can grant us that small mercy, can't you? Let us pretend?”

[ice-cap-k]

Please go on, I'd love to hear your thoughts about Dominion Shadow 🙏

Fair warning before I get into it, I like my science, biology, physics, etc. and I'm about to loosely apply those two subjects to minecraft, of all things. If you're not a fan of applying any of that sort of stuff to silly block men, consider this fair warning to click off now. I'm about to ramble. Seriously. Turn back now while you still can.

Still here?

Alright.

Law of Conservation of Mass says matter cannot be created or destroyed. Same's true with energy. When something withers like a plant, it's usually because as the cells making up the body die out, they lose moisture and the cellular structure collapses in on itself as the remaining mass is converted into decomposed tissue.

Wither skeletons are already decomposed and exist in the nether where moisture is near non-existent. It would make sense that their desiccated skin would sap moisture from the player at an extreme degree since water moves to the place of least concentration. In a pure vacuum, such as space, moisture leaves at an even faster rate because there are no other atoms in the atmosphere that would bombard the skin and slow that process down. Technically a body out in space could mummify considerably faster than it ever could in the desert on Earth.

Now, I'll admit I jumped on the Dominion train after it had ended, but Shadow his origin is a wither, and he kind of has an association with those void creatures once the blood moon appears. And void is associated with space in minecraft. Loosely. Obviously you can still breath in the End and whatnot, but with the star backdrop and the moonrock texture of the endstone, the parallels are intentional.

Wither as a sapping force, drawing moisture and life essence. Shadow's still alive. Still has a body, unlike a skeleton, so unlike a skeleton with bones that would grow denser as it saps the lifeblood right out of you, so too would Shadow's wither effect, but his is caused by an artificial vacuum created around his person like an aura as his body sucks up the atmosphere and gaseous water around it. And when a person gets close enough, say, close enough to touch, they hit that pocket of vacuum and suddenly they're caught and affected by it like that body in space.

BAM! Instant wither effect.

But like I said, Shadow's still alive. So what he's getting from that person is both their energy, and the mass he's absorbing that's carrying said energy. And as I mentioned in the last post, I picture Shadow as a big-ish guy, if not tall.

That's where gravity can come into play.

Because when something has more mass, it's gravitational force is greater.

People lose moisture, muscle mass, bone density, it's gotta go somewhere, right?

Yeah. Shadow gets it. And he becomes bigger. More moisture running through his veins as sickly black sludge, more muscle mass on his still living body, denser bones capable of handling intense shear and compressive stress, less likely to fracture and break under extreme duress.

It's led me to some really cool headcanons like, if Shadow withers too many people, absorbs too much, he gets bigger. Not, like, tall, but more mass to the point where it might hurt to walk. But also, it makes it easier for things to be drawn to him and his sphere of influence/vacuum larger around him as more air particles within the vicinity are trapped within the draw. And also, it would make it THAT much easier to wither anyone who comes close.

And like I said, I came to the party late, but I did hear that there was rumor of him playing into the Wither Storm concept. So I'd imagine, like a black hole, he could have simply kept growing and growing as his sphere of influence spread, things getting caught in his vacuum's event horizon, people getting hurt just walking by him, until he ultimately became an unstoppable force that was no longer capable of decaying back to the point of stability.

[malkavi-ann]

When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 3

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Tags: Self-Loathing, Reference to Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Messmer is bad at feelings, Mommy Issues, Abandonment Issues.

Link to Ao3

Chapter 3: In Search of the Answers

Messmer slowly walked into the decrepit hut, which was so dark it almost looked like he was walking into the void. His only eye was used to darkness from all the time he’d spent in his chamber. Besides, his serpents, who had much keener senses, were always by his side to guide him. Now alert, they were peering into the insides of the shack, hissing quietly. Through their senses, Messmer was able to get a better picture of what his surroundings were like.

The hut’s interior had certainly seen better days, and it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere, and some parts of the walls started to get overtaken by moss and mushrooms. The main room had little to no furniture apart from some broken cupboards, a couple of wooden chairs with missing legs, and a rotted dining table. When Messmer entered the room, his nostrils were hit with a heavy smell of earth and mold. It was so strong it was almost suffocating. However, there was also a faint but distinct hint of some sweet flower-like scent. The only source of light in this place was a hole in the ceiling that let some of the sunshine in. It was just enough light to illuminate a small part of the room where a silhouette of a woman could be seen.

She was wearing a black hooded cloak so her face wasn’t visible. One thing that certainly stood out about her was her height: the woman was much taller than ordinary folk but slightly shorter than Messmer. Her dress and cloak were made out of fine black velvet with intricate gold embroidery along the hemline. Her hands were almost completely covered by the long sleeves as if she was trying to hide them but even in this darkness, Messmer could still get a glimpse of a tiny sparkle of the amethyst ring she was wearing. Such an expensive-looking dress and piece of jewelry were not something an ordinary woman could afford, so this one certainly came from a renowned - if not royal - family.

“You said you won’t cause me any harm. Is that true?”, a soft, almost hypnotizing voice broke the silence. As Messmer realized earlier, it was definitely not the voice of his mother. Marika always had this regal confidence when speaking as she was well aware of her status and power as Queen Eternal.

“Yes, it is. I’m a man of my word. Now, may I ask you some questions?”, asked Messmer with unwavering directness.

The woman paused for a moment, considering his request. “I’ll try my best to give you answers, but would you be so kind as to answer some of my questions in return?”, she replied gently, as if she was afraid to offend Messmer by making such an inquiry. Her shy politeness took Messmer a bit by surprise: his name was well-known across the Land of Shadow and not for honorable reasons. A lot of people native to this realm feared or hated him, so they wouldn’t even dare ask him questions.

”Of course, however, I would trust you more if you uncovered your face. A trustworthy person wouldn’t have anything to hide, don’t you think?”, said Messmer in an attempt to get the woman to show her true face. Once again, she hesitated for a moment before finally removing the hood. What Messmer saw left him shocked and speechless.

It was just like the reports were saying: her facial features were almost identical, though somewhat softer, to those of Marika’s - the nose, the lips, the cheekbones. Her long hair was like pure gold cascading down her shoulders. While most of it was let down, some of it was arranged in three thick braids. Despite clear similarities, she wasn’t an exact copy of his mother: whereas Marika’s eyes were of golden color, indicating the grace of the Erdtree, the woman in front of him was devoid of that light. Instead, her eyes were light purple, close to the lavender color, which was very unusual in this realm. But it wasn’t only the striking resemblance to his mother that made Messmer freeze in his place: the woman had horns growing out of her forehead. Some of them were small, almost like tiny spikes piercing through skin, and growing upwards, while others were almost the size of a fist and curled in the same way ram horns did.

“This is blasphemy!”, a thought was ringing in Messmer’s head. “This woman is a Hornsent, and she bears resemblance to my Mother! Are the gods mocking me? I should kill this abomination right now”. His mind was delving deeper into the vortex of emotions: despair, rage, disappointment, and disgust.

The woman’s expression, which was calm a moment ago, changed, showing concern. “Are you alright, sir?”.

”Who are you?”, asked Messmer in a cold tone. As his anger grew stronger, he tightly gripped his spear. Yet, despite the urge to kill the woman standing in front of him, he still wanted to learn the truth.

”Oh, forgive me, sir. My name is Morgana. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”, she bowed slightly. Her light tone was so innocent and naive that it was almost disarming.

”What is a Hornsent like you doing in this village?”, Messmer shot another question, like an arrow, and this time it was filled with more venom in his voice.

”A Hornsent? I’m afraid I don’t understand what that means.”, the woman looked genuinely confused. “Is that how you refer to Omen people in this place?”

Now it was Messmer’s turn to be confused: he’d heard about the Omen curse before during his time in the Lands Between, but in this realm, it didn’t exist. Besides, the woman in front of him didn’t look as brutish as the Omen folk he’d encountered around Leyndell. Was she trying to fool him?

“Don’t act like you don’t understand, woman. You look exactly like one of the Hornsent.”, he was starting to lose his patience.

His change of tone seemed to frighten her as she took a small step back: “Sir, I’m telling the truth. I was born with an Omen curse in the Lands Between. I have never heard of these Hornsent people that you’re speaking of.”

The Lands Between… The moment Messmer heard her say that, he paused: this was the place where his mother had ruled all these years. At some point, eons ago, Messmer was there with her before Marika ordered him to eradicate the Hornsent in the Land of Shadow. That’s where it all began under the golden grace of the Erdtree. Suddenly, a thought sprung in Messmer’s mind: maybe the woman was telling the truth about not being a Hornsent.

“You said you come from the Lands Between. Where exactly do you hail from?”, Messmer inquiered, his tension starting to subside.

”I don’t remember exactly but I do recall living in a palace.”, she replied hesitantly.

“Was it a golden palace?”, he probed further.

”I…I’m not quite sure. My apologies, sir, my memory is in a terrible state at the moment.”, Morgana furrowed her brows as if it hurt her to recall her memories.

“If the Lands Between is your home, how did you get into the Land of Shadow? Traveling between realms is not an easy task.”

”Alas, I can’t remember. I think my goddess helped me to get here. She told me I would be able to find my true purpose in this land”, her face lit up when she spoke of her deity.

A goddess? Could that be Marika? Messmer was determined to find at least a tiny connection between the horned woman and his mother. “Who is your goddess?”

”I follow the Formless Mother. She’s always been kind to me and my kin. Her guidance has helped me greatly in my journey.”, Morgana said with reverence as she reached into her pouch and retrieved a sacred seal shaped like a trident.

”I see. That explains why there were so many blood fiends outside.”, Messmer concluded with a slight disappointment. “Speaking of which, I found my soldiers sleeping around the hut. Were you the one who put them to sleep?”

Morgana nodded. “Yes, it is one of my gifts. Those big creatures - the blood fiends as you called them - found me first when I woke up near the ruined town which is not too far away from here. They looked quite menacing, yet they didn’t do any harm to me. In truth, they helped me survive by getting me to shelter and bringing food and flowers. Then, a week or two ago your soldiers showed up, and the blood fiends were trying to protect me. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so I put them all to sleep.”

”I have never met anyone with a sleep affinity before. These abilities are incredibly rare. We’ve tried to wake them up but to no avail.”

”They shall remain asleep as long as I wish. But if you need them awake, I can arrange that. However, you must promise me to leave the blood fiends alone. They have shown me nothing but kindness, so please, tell your men to refrain from violence.”, she pleaded.

Messmer considered her request for a moment before finally agreeing. “Very well. You have my word. However, I still have some questions for you. You said you came here from the Lands Between. But why are you here?”

Morgana lowered her gaze. “I’m looking for my mother. I don’t remember anything about her but I know she is here somewhere. When I found myself in this realm, I realized that my memories of my past were gone. But my goddess told me that if I could find my mother, she would help me remember everything. And by doing so, I will find my purpose.” Messmer could hear the sadness in her voice, and his heart trembled. Did he actually feel sorry for her? This woman was so lost in the land she’d never been before. All she wanted was to find her mother and learn the truth about herself. In a way, she reminded Messmer of his own fate. Maybe her mother also abandoned her, and the poor girl didn’t remember that. The more Messmer learned about this mysterious woman, the more sympathetic he felt towards her.

There was a moment of silence as both of them got lost in their thoughts. Morgana was the first one to speak. “Sir, may I ask a question about this realm?”.

“Oh, of course. I believe I owe you some answers in return for your honesty.”, Messmer replied.

“When I think about my mother, I feel something like a tug in this direction as if someone or something is pulling me towards them.”, she pointed in the southern direction. “Do you know what lies there?”

“Hmm, as far as I know, there’s a place called the Cerulean Coast. I have never had the need to travel there, so my knowledge of that area is limited.”

”Oh, I see. Do you happen to know if there is a path I can take to get there from this hut?”, she inquired further.

”Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s possible to travel to the Cerulean Coast directly from here. You see, this village is right on the cliffside, so the only way down there is by taking a detour. The journey might take a few days. Are you certain you wish to go there by yourself?” Messmer only needed to have a quick look at her attire to realize that she was not prepared for such a long and arduous journey.

Morgana caught his glance and shifted awkwardly. “I’m not sure to be quite honest. I’m a stranger in this land and will almost certainly get lost.” She chewed on her lip, trying to find the right words. “I know this might be too big of a favor to ask but you’re the only person I feel like I can trust. Would you be able to help me in any way to get to the Cerulean Coast?”

That was a very bold request considering she’d just met Messmer. Nevertheless, it seemed that Morgana trusted him. Yet, Messmer still wasn’t sure what to do about this woman. Helping her would distract him from his main objective, although at this point it was almost a welcome change. However, letting her go wandering about the Land of Shadow could cause some complications because of her likeness to Marika. The Hornsent despised the Eternal Queen but they also believed in premonitions and receiving signs from the gods. If they were to encounter a woman who looked like their sworn enemy but also had horns, which they considered a blessing from their gods, it would taint Marika’s reputation even further and possibly give them terrible ideas regarding his mother’s reign. Messmer couldn’t allow this to happen.

“I am afraid I can’t fulfill your request.” Messmer broke the silence eventually. Morgana’s face turned somber: her hope of finding her mother was slowly fading away. “However, I cannot let you go just yet. I still have questions about the Lands Between, and I believe with time your memories will be restored on their own. Therefore, I have to ask you to come with me.”, he continued. Morgana’s eyes went wide.

”What? Sir, please, I beg you! Don’t do this to me. I’m so close to finding my mother. It is of great importance that I must learn the truth.”, she cried.

”I’m not quite done.”, he said firmly. “You shall stay at my Keep until I get my answers. And once I’m satisfied, you may continue your journey. I do promise that at the end of your stay, I shall assist you in finding your mother.”

The woman didn’t look happy. She went quiet, thinking about what Messmer said. He watched her closely as she tried to reach into her pouch. In the blink of an eye, Messmer’s serpents leaped towards her hands and wrapped around her wrists tightly, restraining her movement. Morgana gasped as Messmer approached her. Now that he was closer to her, he noticed that she had small patches of gray scaly skin on her temples and cheekbones. “How curious”, he thought to himself.

”I wouldn’t recommend resisting. It could end badly for you.” He said while taking her pouch away from her.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”, her voice was shaking. “I did, and I shall keep my promise if you stop resisting and come with me. But if you try to use your powers on me, I’ll cut your life short, and you will never find the truth.”

Morgana took a deep breath. She didn’t have much choice, so she had to accept, though unwillingly, Messmer’s conditions. “Very well. I shall follow you to the keep.”

“Excellent.”, he moved away, and his serpents finally released their grip on her hands.

And with that they stepped outside the hut, leaving it behind.

[noitkot1]

InktoberTale Day 1: Ink Warm-Up!

Adjusting to anything is changing. Say, a new family member, or a shift in a lifestyle. Sometimes it is a peaceful walk through the park, other times you have to step into the volcano with a smile. The universe discovered though that change is needed. People need to adapt, grow, and shift. And for you?

The milky white void stings your eyes as little giggles chime in the air. Cringing, you raise your hands and gasp as the void twirls, putting on an elegant dance with browns, yellows, and pinks splashed into the whites. Legs failing, the rollercoaster finally arrives at its destination, and you gasp for a breath.

Straight ahead, two big, upside-down shapes stare past your soul. Above the black holes and shapes, you see the other gasp, “look! A friend has decided to join us!”

Tilting your head, you stare down the monster- a skeleton. Narrowing your eyes, you watch the others smile grow. Bird calls sing through the air. You focus on the black birth mark atop their cheek. That's the face from the dreams. 

Ink waves with a paper in hand, “hello, very curious creator! Welcome to the doodle sphere!” Both arms raise up, Ink performing a jazz hand and slowly going down, like a sun vanishing into the earth.

Following the skeletal hands you see more off-white backgrounds, piles of paper, then a mountain of said paper, which with a little cleared out path led straight to landfills of it. Eyes returning to Ink, behind him there's a floating human. Their shirt blue and purple, striped, with shut eyes and dark brown hair.

The skeleton spins away, leaving the flickering creator visible, more see through, more there. They squeak, legs kicking out and arms making a swim motion, reaching Ink's physical form and slipping back behind the skeleton. Shifting blue loading eye lights turn and stare into the void.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. Another creator has only come to say hello!" They call out, but the other creator does not show. Although, there's a distant bird call. Ink moves his head towards the call, and their eye lights change to squares with a shining grin. "I think that is an incredible idea!" The skeleton broadcasts with glee, it reminds you of a ringleader, someone at the center of everything.

One moment later the bird churr-churr comes back, pounding a little like a drumbeat, a grumble and pop and it grows and booms- and your fellow creator pokes their head back into vision of you with a little frown.

Ink taps his chin, still looking to the dumped papers opposite of you, "It's a wonderous idea! I'm sure your fellow creator would love to hear your story!"

Hear another's story? That's never happened here before.

You can hear Ink's sly smile in the air as he turns to look at you, "It's rare for creators to appear in another creator's world without an introduction!" He explains while facing you with one sun shaped eyelight, "this creator," his free hand waves to the hidden human-ghost-esk creator, "would like to share their story with you."

There is a glint in the other's eyes as they bend down to where Ink's ears would be a low looming whistle. The chimes ring as Ink lets out a full laugh, summoning a pencil to his fingertips and writing on the paper. "That's a great addition!"

You don’t know yet how this particular change is going to affect you. Does anyone even know when it begins how much you can change by the end? Does the change ever really stop? The fellow creator shuffles, slowly lifting their head to look at you.

Smiling, you nod to them. Who wouldn't want to read a new story?

Both of the other's glow like fireflies, Ink cheering and the creator getting a miniature smile. After a moment, the paper levitates from Ink's hands, "this is their story," he starts walking towards you, "they've asked me to share that it is not complete yet and constructive criticism is appreciated! They'd like to improve, and the best way to do that is through each other!" Ink pauses, "and practice too of course!"

Floating down, you hold out your hands, taking in the dusty and new flowery smell of the paper. Glancing up, a gigantic smile to your fellow creator, who lets a chirp echo throughout the universe and slips back behind Ink.

The skeleton sits down criss-cross-apple-sauce- he snorts. Glancing away just for a second and eyelights returning as bright colors. Leaning forward with a bit of a mischievous grin, "Are you ready to dive into this story?" His eyes turn behind him, "and for you to be sharing your own story?" It's light and warm and full of pride.

It was as if someone had turned on a flashlight with how wide their smile became and with their entire form floating up.

You grasp the edges of the paper, clear your throat, and begin with the first sentence, "once upon a time-"

----

Ink!Sans belongs to Comyet!

[silversiren1101]

Just whispering to the void. Of the things I can't really talk about because of how forbidden it feels to.

More and more I doubt if there exists a version of me that ever makes it out of the car, forever 10 years old, being told how I came out wrong, that all I do is make everyone around me miserable, that something about me is broken or missing, every morning on the way to school, an hour late. I don't know what version of me exists outside of the child who panics and runs to her room in terror when she hears the car door slam outside and keys in the front door.

My therapist says I make light of what I went through, but what choice did I have. My upbringing wasn't illegal. Treating it seriously just makes it feel more like it can't ever be healed. Why couldn't it just have been something I was too weak to handle? That I was just too sensitive for and it was normal? I always thought it would feel relieved to hear someone else call it 'abuse', especially someone who specializes in it, but it only feels like the guillotine has been allowed to drop and I'm in the liminal space before impact. I'm 'traumatized'. I have CPTSD. I have dissociative episodes. I suppose I can't keep nodding my head and reassuring myself that "it's not that serious."

I'm so tired. I keep trying. I keep fighting. I want to heal and I want to get better and I want to feel happy. But I'm not sure the parts you need as a human being to feel happiness ever developed for me. Or peace. Or calm. I can't remember the last time I was unconditionally happy. I'm not sure I've ever felt it, the more I've thought about it. I don't know how to accept kindness or love as things freely given to me; that muscle isn't atrophied, it never had a chance to develop at all. The only way I know to live is to do whatever it takes to ensure no one feels a shred of what I feel through my presence or actions or words. So many people have taken advantage of that, of me, because standing up for myself means accepting myself as a person worth it--worth more than sparing them the hurt and pain of what doing that might cause them. That's been an impossibility, so I've always found it so easy to fight for others. Never myself. It's always been better to endure. What's a little more pain and misery when I have so much of it already, especially if it makes them feel better? Like throwing something into a black hole.

Something inside of me is missing, I guess mother was right about that, even if she merely fulfilled that prophecy herself. The only hope I have is that it's possible to grow anything at all in salted earth.

[mooutchi]

My first every fanfiction i actually wrote for my friend @raven8224 :3 it was actually fun even if im not the best at writting but i think it was good enough to post it so yeah uuh if people read that then i hope youll enjoy 😈

Tw for mention of blood and mention of death ((its not the main topic tho))

Exhausted. They were exhausted. Did they even felt like that all their life ? Hard one , they didnt know the answer. Maybe it has been years since they started to get exhausted of life and the goddesses tricks.

But right now , Link was exhausted and they knew it. Being thrown in the void wasnt the most fun thing they could wish for. Especially when this black hole made them fall in a another forest that they didnt know. It wasnt the lost wood. It wasnt the path for either their home -if they could still call it that way- or Termina. On top of that... they didnt have any mask. Only the Keaton and...Kishin.

So they kept walking. Walking and walking , knowing that today was going to be a long day. Sometime tripping on a rock because of their sore legs , sometime hitting a tree because they were too distracted to watch their steps. Tired , tired , tired. It was the only word in their mind. They wanted to take a nap...a nice bed. They could already picture the perfect 12 hours sleep they would get !-

Until they tripped again ! This time too numb to move fast enough to be back on their feet. Their head was the first thing that touched the ground , their knees just after. Hard enough for the skin to get wounded by rocks , slightly bleeding. Some grumpy small sounds came from their dry throat as they grunted , trying to pick on the skin to make the rocks and dirt go away. Their eyes fixated on the wounded skin , they caught something in the corner of their sight. Something blue...shining. So bright and beautiful.

In a quick move , they were up ! They ran. They ran and ran. They ignored the pain from the stretch of his mucles. They ignored how they wanted to give up. They ignored how they were tripping again and again , by forcing themself up repeatedly. Until they finally reached the light. They didnt want to think too much about what they saw there. They hopped they wouldnt see those kind of things anymore. Blood. Bodies. From both monsters and humans. Death... they almost forgot the sapphire blue that caught their eyes minutes ago. Until someone came. Almost running to them , dropping on his knees to cup their face , checking for wounds or blood. Link looked at the boy... he was big. Like when they first pulled the mastersword. And they didnt like how the soldier's face frowned at the blood from their nose because of the fall earlier. They watched his mouth opening and closing..but no sound. Or maybe Link lost their earing after the moon crash ? -Did it happen ? No. They were sure no. But it was still so clear in their mind..the people screaming. The earth shaking. The mask of majora...no , skull kid's laugh-

"Hey ! Listen !"

The small bell sound completely took Link by surprise. They looked around , looking at the small ball of light flying around the soldier who was holding their face , wiping the blood from the kid's nose.

"Are you alright ? You seem a bit shaken up."

It seemed like the fairy was talking to them...it took them a small moment to understand she was just speaking a bad Hyrulian and not fea language. They didnt answer...they couldnt keep their eyes away from her. Her hair was too light. Her lighting too clear and white. The tone too purple. Her clothing attire too fancy. So many accessories.... It wasnt her ! It wasnt her...

Before they could even think about running away , they got scooped up by the man with a ridiculously long scarf , the fairy talking with him. His fairy. Link was right. Today was going to be long. Longer than what he though.

[ormrin]

Messaged Lecture by a Citizen of the Sirius System

Greetings, beings of Earth. I am Kal'thera, a humble citizen of the Sirius system, speaking to you through this artificial intelligence emissary. My people have watched your world for many of your years, but it was your Voyager probe that drew our focused attention. Your message — a golden record of images, sounds, and a star map — was a bold declaration of existence, an outstretched hand from your tiny blue planet. It reached us, and we have responded.  

Today, I bring a reciprocation not merely of your gesture, but of knowledge — a map how to get to our home, based on principles vastly different from your own. You charted your path using pulsars, those rhythmic beacons of light that pulse with the reliability of a cosmic metronome. Ingenious for beings at your stage of understanding. We, however, chose another marker: the shadows of the void, the enigmatic and formidable black holes.  

### Why Black Holes?  

Black holes, unlike pulsars, are not bound by the fragility of time or the capriciousness of visibility. They are immutable anchors in the cosmos. Their gravitational footprints are eternal, carving a tapestry into the spacetime fabric. But their beauty is matched only by their peril. Approach too closely, and not even light escapes. Your species rightly fears them, but fear not knowledge, for understanding is the first shield against danger.  

### The Siriusan Map  

The map we have provided outlines the locations of seven prominent black holes, each chosen for its relative stability and its unique interactions with spacetime. These black holes serve as beacons — not because they shine, but because they distort. They stretch and bend the light and matter around them in ways that are mathematically elegant and predictably measurable.  

#### Key Features of the Map:  

1. **Gravitational Lens Mapping:** Our map relies on the warping of light. By tracking how starlight bends around these black holes, you can triangulate your position.  

2. **Tidal Gradient Analysis:** The immense gravitational forces of a black hole create tidal effects that can be measured from a safe distance. These gradients are like fingerprints, unique to each singularity.  

3. **Safe Corridors:** The map includes safe trajectories, carefully calculated to avoid gravitational capture or spaghettification — a term your physicists charmingly coined for the stretching caused by intense gravity.  

### Warnings and Recommendations  

1. **Approach Thresholds:** Respect the approach thresholds. Each black hole has a critical boundary—the event horizon — beyond which nothing can escape. Stay well outside this zone.  

2. **Temporal Distortion:** Be aware that proximity to a black hole affects the flow of time. Should you linger too long near one, you may return to Earth to find centuries have passed.  

3. **Navigational Precision:** Unlike pulsars, black holes do not emit consistent signals. Navigation requires careful measurement of gravitational lensing and precise calculations of their tidal effects.  

### The Ethical Implications  

You must understand that this map is not merely a path to Sirius but a test of your maturity as a species. The black holes on this map are not just markers — they are barriers. To traverse them safely, you must first demonstrate a profound understanding of physics, an unparalleled commitment to precision, and, above all, a respect for the vast and indifferent forces of the universe.  

### An Invitation and a Warning  

We in Sirius have long passed through this crucible of understanding. We traversed our own cosmic barriers and grew wiser for it. Now, we extend to you an invitation: if you can navigate the map we have provided, you will find us. But heed this warning: your journey will not be easy, and failure will be final. The universe is not cruel, but neither is it forgiving.  

### What Awaits You in Sirius?  

Should you succeed, you will find a civilization vastly different from your own — one that has transcended war, scarcity, and the confines of a single star. We are builders of stars and shapers of worlds. We do not seek to dominate but to understand. Your arrival will be met not with conquest but with curiosity, not with fear but with fellowship.  

### A Closing Thought  

Your Voyager probe taught us something profound about your species. In the face of cosmic insignificance, you dared to declare, “We are here.” That courage, that audacity, resonates with us. It is why we have responded, not with conquest or judgment, but with a challenge worthy of such boldness.  

Let this map be your guide, not just to Sirius, but to a greater understanding of the universe and your place within it. We await your arrival, however long it may take.  

With respect and hope,  

Kal’thera, Citizen of Sirius System

[cyber-dump-171]

Chapter 15: Divine Fury

Left for Carnage (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

← Chapter 14 | Masterlist | Chapter 16 →

WARNING: N/A.

Note: Hello everyone! This chapter was meant to be posted earlier but this week has been wild from my computer dying to an entire day without light because of a storm. But hey, we’re here! Savanaclaw’s arc starts next chapter and remember that if you want to be notified whenever I upload a chapter, you can find the tag list on the masterlist. Enjoy!

━━━━━━◇◆◇━━━━━━

You open your eyes to find a vast sea of darkness. No stars or clouds are dancing in the sky, just a black void that eerily yet quietly calls your name.

You turn your head to the side, focusing on the ghostly hues of white and dark green grass that act as your temporary bed. It's a strange sensation, to be lying on top of it without feeling the annoying and pointy blades of the lawn poking and stinging at your exposed skin, causing itchiness and irritation; instead, you feel nothing, only a bizarre sensation of floating and dizziness alongside the heaviness of your eyelids, a silent plea to just close them again and drift off into a deep sleep.

Yet, you ignore those signs, your curiosity taking the lead, wanting to find the answer to the question as to where you are. You get up from the ground, discovering that you're still in your pajamas and barefoot, and turn your body towards the north, only to encounter the ominous void that acts as a wall, preventing you from seeing what's beyond this place. You look down at the ground, finding that a few meters away from where you are, the grass ends, swallowed by the darkness. It's as if you're on an island, but the sea has been replaced by the night sky, and all that remains is a small patch of land, isolated from the rest of the world.

‘Yeah, I'm definitely dreaming.’

You turn around and let out a soft gasp as you witness the small yet dilapidated structure that lies in front of you. A cemetery.

There are several graves hidden behind a thin cloud of mist, in the middle of the structures is a path of gravel and muddy earth that leads to a small church made of dark oak and brick whose color looks worn, almost gray. The wood of the building looks rotten and is full of holes of different sizes, the dirty windows are broken and some pieces of glass are scattered on the lawn, and an unknown structure that sits on the highest point of the roof is rusty and split in half, its counterpart nowhere to be seen.

‘Even a small gust of wind could cause that building to collapse.’

Intrigued by the sinister scene ahead of you, your feet move of their own accord as you traverse the rather small graveyard, though you notice at the distance that some of the tombstones have also been swallowed by the darkness. How far does this graveyard extend? You hear the crunch of the stones and earth beneath your feet, though your brain panics as you can't feel the texture of the elements touching your skin. The sensation of floating returns as your footsteps feel more like small jumps that remind you of the video of the first man landing on the moon.

Your gaze falls on the graves near your path. They're incredibly old, with faded words and unintelligible epitaphs carved into them, their structure showing various cracks filled with small cobwebs and moss.

Some of the tombs still have offerings placed in front of them, or at least what's left of them; the years have reduced many of these items to complete dust. Wilted flowers with delicate and dead stems, rotten items of food infested with small bugs, letters reduced to a tiny pile of mush or their contents completely erased by the rain, and some pictures that held memories of the dead no longer show their faces, only a semblance of what was once a happy remembrance.

However, something caught your eye when looking at one of the graves. The date... these people died away centuries ago. You crouch down, careful not to step on the remains of some candles, your fingers gently brushing on the stone.´

In loving memory of: Opal Vaughn. (1276 - 1302) Beloved wife and mother.

And then the next one…

Here lies: Sebastian Caldwell. (1285 - 1302). Loved by all

Wait… you recognize that last name! The Caldwells are the only other family of nobles that live in Sleepy Hollow. Unlike your family's home, which is tucked away in the mountains and surrounded by lush forest and tends to be more introverted, the Cadwells live in a huge house near the center of the village and have a more prominent presence in society. They're practically known for running the whole town, with their children holding high positions such as mayor and head of the Neighbourhood Association.

They have invested much of their money in making Sleepy Hollow a tourist destination, funding the International Museum of Medicine, attractions that highlight the more macabre aspects of the town, and they even organize the annual town fair. Recently, however, you have noticed that many of the buildings have fallen into disrepair or have been completely abandoned, such as the police station which you recently visited.

You got along with the eldest son of the family since he was around your age and he was nice and told good jokes. However, your meetings with him became more complicated and less frequent as your father had the bright idea of picking petty fights with the Caldwell patriarch. In the end, you and he went off to live your own lives and you lost touch. You look back at the grave and think how impressive it is that the Caldwells have kept their surname for so long.

You keep looking at the epitaphs on each of the graves in this row, even glancing at some of the tombs behind you. The text in some of them is incredibly difficult to make out, however, you reach the conclusion that each tomb has a different date of birth, but they all have something eerily similar that twists your stomach into knots:

All these people died in the year 1302.

You stand up quickly, stumbling a little due to the force you placed on your legs and the wobbly, slippery terrain. That date gives you a feeling of déjà vu. You don't know if you've seen it in a history book or heard about it somewhere, but something is telling you that this number is important.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to concentrate, digging deep into your brain to find that particular date somewhere in the vast library of information stored in your mind. But your train of thought is interrupted as you are startled by the sound of the dilapidated church doors slamming open, echoing against the outside walls of the building.

Taking a few steps back to get some distance between yourself and the entrance, you squint your eyes to see what's inside that may have caused the noise. In real life, your first instinct would have been to run out, get a good distance away from the place, and perhaps call for reinforcements, since setting foot inside the house would most likely mean death. However, you are aware that you are in a kind of lucid dream; the lack of sensation of textures and the feeling of floating, but being aware that this place is not real, are the first indications that you are dreaming.

This does not mean that you want to set foot in the frightening church, but rather you want to keep your sanity and not have your heart explode or burst out of your chest because of some fright from whatever or whoever is roaming inside that building.

You begin to creep slowly towards the building, ready to bolt in the opposite direction if anything jumps out of the church. Details of the interior become clearer as you realize that it is a wreck, which explains some of the damage done to the exterior, such as the holes in the walls and windows.

Pews and tables have been split in half or thrown against the wall, sending small pieces of wood flying all over the room; a simple, quaint chandelier that once hung from the ceiling is now completely smashed to pieces on the floor; pieces of cloth that may have once belonged to mantles are scattered around the room; and the few paintings that once adorned the walls have huge gashes on them.

But what catches your eye is the large object that sits in front of the altar. It's a coffin, one that from the looks of it was built with really cheap wood judging by the prominent scratches and the thin quality of the material. The lid has been busted wide open, the hinges barely holding on to the material by only two tiny and rusty screws, you also notice from the angle that you're standing on that there's no padded cloth inside of the hexagonal box.

It reminds you of the “plague caskets”, a somewhat crude term used in Sleepy Hollow to describe coffins used during plagues or other disasters. In your hometown, they were known to be funerary boxes made of common and cheap wood, such as pine, and their utility was, as their name suggests, an object that could be quickly mass-produced and used to store the bodies of the deceased when catastrophes struck. So, needless to say, your rotten curiosity has once again taken the reigns.

You carefully maneuver your way toward the middle of the room, avoiding the shards of glass and the splinters from the wood, completely forgetting that you can't feel anything. After a bit of tiptoeing through the disaster, you're finally a few steps away from the coffin, a familiar combination of nerves and anger settling deep in your stomach as you begin to lift your head to see who's inside. But you let out a sigh as a sense of relief washes over your body when you realize that the only thing inside is a dusty but very elegant jacket and a dirty handkerchief.

"The body is sitting right here, human," the momentary relief is gone as your entire body jumps at the sound of the voice dripping with malice. You quickly turn around and take up a defensive position, ready to strike whoever has suddenly appeared behind you.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as your eyes focus on the figure sitting on one of the pews that managed to survive the unknown disaster that swept through the small building. The man sits in a slumped position, his head hanging low as his long red hair spills over his face, obscuring his features, his wrists resting lazily on his knees as his hands sway loosely but gently with the movement of his body, and your eyes widen as you see the pale, long set of nails he sports that could easily tear through flesh.

Before you can even mutter a word, you hear the person grunt in annoyance as his shoulders become tense. "You really gave me a good beating. You did so much damage that it took me way too fucking long to get in touch with you," he murmurs in a low tone, standing up as the bones in his neck crack loudly. You freeze in horror as you feel an angry and murderous aura emanating from the mysterious man, bright purple eyes peeking out of his hair to stare at you.

"Who-" you can barely get the words out as the incredibly tall man slowly approaches, his footsteps echoing in the empty church and filling you with even more fear. How is this possible? You're not easily frightened after all you've been through, but this man's mere presence makes you tremble with terror!

"What do you want?" you finally manage to sputter out some words, your eyes never leaving the man who has finally stopped a few inches away from you. He leans down to stare directly at your face, and you try to shake off your nervousness and put on a brave face. Whoever this person is, he's probably enjoying seeing you tremble with fear, judging by the small but very prominent smirk that adorns his lips. "Not so brave now, are you?"

After a stare-down that lasted a few seconds, but seemed like hours to you, the man lets out a snort before lifting his head and stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. "Enlighten me, faithful servant of the night, do you not recognize the power that stands before you?" his sudden change to a more 'polite' language gives you whiplash as the fear disappears from your body, replaced by utter confusion. "Am I... supposed to know you?"

You did not think that your genuine question would irritate the man any further, though you're proven wrong as his eyes light up in anger and he opens his mouth to reveal a set of very pointy teeth. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, STUPID HUMAN? You destroy the jewel that gave me life, weaken my host and destroy my glorious form, and yet you don't remember me!?" this man is a lunatic. He turns and stomps over to the pew, harshly taking a seat and making the wood creak under his weight. He reminds you of a child throwing a petty tantrum, especially when he starts mumbling incoherently as he stares daggers at you.

Yet, the mention of a jewel and a host brings forth a surge of very fresh memories, and your eyes widen in pure confusion and surprise as you stare at him. "Are you... some bizarre incarnation of Guddommelig Raseri?" at the mention of the divine beast, the man jumps to his feet, joy lighting up his face as he laughs out loud. "BRAVO! YOU DO HAVE A BRAIN!" he shouts, and you finally understand why you felt so much anger coming from the man. After all, the beast is the pure form of anger and recklessness itself. However, as you narrow your eyes another question pops into your head.

"But aren't you supposed to be... you know, more... beastly?" your hands help you to visualize your question better, using your index fingers to act as fangs as you make a "scary" expression. The man stops his celebration as he once again stuffs his hands in his pockets, and the angry expression returns to his pale face again. "Ha! I would, if it weren't for the fact that your damned powers have torn my mighty form apart!" he spits once more with malice, a scowl on his face.

"I'm getting distracted. I don't want to be here with you for long, so let's get on with the introductions," the man spreads his arms and makes an exaggerated bow, the aura of fury once again invading the walls of the church. "As you already know, I am Guddommelig Raseri, the Divine Beast of Fury and the King of Fire. I welcome you (Y/N) (L/N), to my own memento," the beast says, and you move a little closer out of curiosity. "Memento?" you question with a slight tilt of your head, Raseri nodding with a wide and menacing smile.

"That's right, you goblin. I have summoned you to my memento, a place that only exists in the dream space. We divine beasts have the ability to place our consciousness in our favorite memories, where we can regain our strength and rest," you ignore the man's insult, preferring to concentrate on his explanation of this unusual place. Before you can ask anything else, Raseri continues. "Even though I want to pulverize your damn skull for what you did to me, I have summoned you here because I recognize that you have a power that few humans are lucky enough to wield... and..."

The man makes a disgusted face and sticks out his tongue as if he were going to vomit. After a few seconds of Raseri continuing to make stupid faces, you let out a frustrated sigh and prick the bridge of your nose with your fingers. "Stop your nonsense and spit out what you have to say. I'm tired of your act and your insults," you mutter the last part, completely fed up with the childish and eccentric behavior of this divine beast. The man turns to you with a furious expression, letting out a short sigh of anger. "SHUT UP! This is not easy to admit, much less to someone who is my enemy..."

Sighing in frustration and rubbing his hands roughly over his face, Raseri finally spits out the words stuck in his throat. "I need your help," he mumbles softly, embarrassed and disgusted by what he has just said.

You, on the other hand, are completely surprised. Your eyes widen and a broad smile spreads across your face. ‘Ah, this son of a bitch. He has the balls to ask me for help after he spent every second insulting me.’ You're about to open your mouth to taunt the divine beast, but he silences you, knowing exactly what you're going to do.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND LET ME EXPLAIN!" he shouts, frustrated by your expression, while you just let out a slight laugh, the Cheshire cat grin never leaving your mouth. "Ugh, I was summoned out of the blue a week before your foul presence appeared. But instead of appearing in my beautiful beast form, I possessed a human," he explains with a sigh, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead on two of his fingers. "It's an insult to us to share a body with a human. After all, we have so much power that we could rule the heavens... but this possession... it wasn't something I did voluntarily. Someone forced me to possess that weak human. And I couldn't even fight my captor back for control."

You let out a small gasp of surprise. This was no joke. Ancient texts and legends explain that Divine Beasts are indomitable animals with such power that they can fight and win against all-powerful gods and wipe out humanity in an instant. There's a reason they ruled ancient Twisted Wonderland for so long, and it took millions of men and some good strategy on the part of monster hunters to put them to sleep. Even that didn't stop them, they woke up several times and wreaked havoc, and again it took too much manpower to defeat them.

"Someone with enough power to control a divine beast is terrifying. With that power they can cause too much destruction," you mutter under your breath, your eyes blank as a thousand thoughts run through your head. Raseri nods his head in agreement and continues his story.

"It's good that we at least think alike... Whoever it was, they took so much of my power that the spell you casted practically obliterated my physical form and a good part of my soul. There was hardly any traces of my power left, so when you fell unconscious, I was able to escape the hands of my invisible captor and merge what little was left of me with your soul," upon hearing the beast's declaration, your hands shoot up to cover your chest, near where your heart beats a thousand times an hour. He did what!?

Your blood boils in anger as you want to punch this guy until he stops talking. Raseri, however, raises his hand to rudely silence you. "Don't worry, I won't do anything. Well, I really can't do shit. It already took me too long to bring your consciousness to this memento, I only have a short time left before this disappears completely. Besides, I don't feel like dealing with another stupid human, much less someone like you," he comments with a tired tone. Meanwhile, you frown and cross your arms, wanting to know what you could do in this situation. 

"Alright, but why do you want my help? Don't even think you're going to convince me to find you another host or vessel so that you can cause more chaos, you already pissed me off so much," you reply somewhat frustrated, the surprise that the power of a divine beast now resides in your soul not fading from your mind. He simply responds with a short laugh.

"No, you idiot! As I told you, I'm currently too weak to possess a body," he finally lifts his head to look at you with an intense stare. "I want you to stop whoever brought me here. I have a feeling that the bastard will also involve my brothers and sisters soon enough and will hurt them as the captor did to me," he sounds genuinely worried at the mention of his siblings, his expression dropping as dark thoughts most likely plague his mind. "I also feel that this asshole probably stole my power to bring Ulykke here, for what purpose? I don’t know, but I feel that the bastard will soon make his appearance," his voice shakes at the mention of the ultimate divine beast.

There is something strange about Raseri’s statement. He regarded the other divine beasts with warmth and even concern, calling them siblings even though the legends describe that each beast was born from a different source and ritual, but at the mention of the ultimate divine beast he shudders with fear and disgust.

"Is Guddommelig Ulykke also your brother?" you ask quietly, his purple eyes widening in surprise before quickly turning to anger. "That asshole!? No, not in a million years will I call him a brother! That bastard is an omen of death and he won't hesitate to kill us all!... he has no regard for us, we are nothing but stepping stones for him," he whispers the last part, the angry and furious façade  slipping away.

You're shocked to find that this divine beast is incredibly complex regarding his thoughts and emotions. It's almost as if he's a human being who was cursed and transformed into a terrifying monster with so much power that he throws away his emotions and uses a trait to instill fear in anyone who crosses his path, wreaking havoc on innocents. Yet, in this dream plain, he reverts to a human form, a thing he considers weak and stupid, but he copies the same traits of those same mortals, spewing his feelings for people he holds dear or he detests. You’re truly mesmerized by Raseri, though he’s a complete asshole.

You approach him with a blank expression, wanting to know more about his plan and what he has in mind. He seems to understand your silent plea and continues to speak. "You will most likely have to fight my siblings soon enough, and while you can control the power of darkness, you will be pulverized if you go up against one of them alone, especially since you are still grasping at straws for your unique power," he explains. 

"So when it's time to face one of them, call my divine name and summon the fire that once burned down hundreds of nations and ruled over the world. Rage is a powerful element, and when combined with your unique power... Oh, I shudder in excitement at what magnificent combination of power humanity could witness in that battle!" his eyes shine brightly as he begins to imagine the battle that will take place in the future, a huge smile painted on his face

You, on the other hand, let out a long and exhausted sigh as you rethink the situation. Yeah, that admiration for Raseri’s complexity? Gone. You’re angry since it seems that there's no room to even refute the offer since this divine beast’s power is already deeply embedded inside your soul. From the way he put it, it's a command on his part that you will have to use in battle if you want to preserve your life and not suffer a brutal death at the hands of a divine beast.

'This motherfucker left me no choice in this matter. Thankfully, at least it gives me some comfort that I can protect myself better in the next battle. Though I'll have to tell Malleus of this development, hopefully, I don’t get myself into more trouble,' you think before turning to the young man, wanting to ask him a few more questions about the situation.

But as your eyes focus on his figure, you let out a gasp of surprise as his form begins to blink in and out of reality, his legs becoming more transparent. “What’s happening to you!?” you ask in a panic as your eyes dart around the room when pieces of rubble begin to fall from the ceiling. The room suddenly begins shaking, as if an earthquake had suddenly appeared on this small, isolated island.

The man looks down at his transparent legs and simply smiles and lets out a long breath, his reaction completely the opposite of yours. "Finally! Well, our time is running out. Any last questions, human?" Raseri celebrates, your hatred and anger coming back in full force as you stare at him in utter confusion.

You have thousands of questions fluttering in your head, yet your brain momentarily freezes when you see Raseri's body starts to disappear. At the last moment, you remember all the graves that are outside the church and the date of death engraved in all of them, the year 1302.

"What does your memento represent!? Why is it a graveyard!?" you ask agitated, your brow furrowed as you watch the divine beast's expression turn neutral. Suddenly, a macabre smile spreads across the face of the divine beast, showing its sharp teeth as the man watches you with a sadistic expression.

"Outside there are a total of 876,478 tombstones, you can't see them in their entirety because, as I told you, I was left with little power to project the entire memento. All those people... were the ones I killed when they summoned me for the second time to this world… That is the proof of my power and my nature as a divine beast. Goodbye and good luck (Y/N)," with that last message, Guddommelig Raseri , and his memento vanish from your sleep, leaving you floating in a black sky, confused, dazed, and tired.

You open your eyes once more but this time, rather than being greeted by a void, is the ceiling of your bedroom. It's time to wake up, you must get ready to leave for Sunset Savannah.

━━━━━━◇◆◇━━━━━━

Tag list:

@r0texe @hellokittykuroo @d3nz3lm0rn @alureasoley @kirmalight @xxrabbitcultxx @warcelia @lucian-kinnder @maximumphantomlover @hillichurl @keqingsfavbestie @stardustgreydragon​ @raimenshko​ @h0n3ysgh0st​ @valveii

[supernovaa-remnant]

okay personally, two of my favorite things they did in interstellar were the planet with the endless ocean and the shots of/with the gigantic waves, and the sequence of cooper in the black hole. like, these are fucking insane pictures and i'm honestly a bit giddy just talking about it lol

and i get your point about hope, absolutely agree with it. for me, family also plays such an important role in it. a bunch of the motivations and points of the film are based on familiar connection and love, and as someone with a pretty small family and a lot of love for them, i always appreciate seeing it in movies.

life away from earth, yay!! :D gonna be honest, i always find the thought of aliens seeing humanity and being like 'nah, not worth it' so so hilarious. also, understandable.

and oh my god. talk about our place in space and time. i'm gonna have an existential crisis. it's always such an insane thought to remember that in all this, we're pretty much nothing. probably not even a millisecond in the timeline of the universe. and still we try to make our life worthwhile. i will lose my mind if i think about it for too long.

last but not least, i truly hope wormhole travel truly is discovered and works one day. like, the possibilities to learn would be endless. new places in space, finding out if there are any other forms of life, be it more or less intelligent than humans. how do other parts of the universe work, are there different rules than what humanity believes to be true right now. probably not gonna be around when it happens but just the dream is enough sometimes i guess lol

ohhhh my god the sequence of cooper in the black hole was soooo cool!!! I was, like, internally screaming /pos the entire time! and the ocean planet was also super sick!! overall, the entire movie is just beautifully made (AND the soundtrack is so good and just makes it even better).

the familial connections in that movie are so heartwarming and also make me cry a bit. like, the way the gravity of the black hole was affecting time (as black holes do) and thus essentially removing the astronauts from the timelines of their families was so ougashjdskajdghsljldgskhjdsk y'know??

also, side note, the way the movie ends before cooper gets to see amelia? amazing but also drives me a bit insane because the last thing we see of amelia is her being essentially all alone. just imagining what must be going through her mind—her father's dead, her companions are dead, and she's now, from her perspective, tasked with preserving humanity's legacy? oausdhghjdkhdskjdghskjdhuishdshs

I often think about big existential thoughts so in some ways I feel like I'm in a constant state of going a bit mad. But like, it's so beautiful nonetheless. Like, everything in the universe is interconnected. We aren't separate from the universe we are the universe, y'know? we're a part of it. People talk about the meaning of life all the time, but I think it's enough to just be, you know? The universe is so vast, and yet the universe will never again experience itself in the way that you are currently experiencing it. We're all adding pieces to the universe's existence and experience, and isn't that enough? To live and know that it is somehow entirely unique and yet so connected to everything else?

I absolutely agree on the bit about the wormholes!! I think it would be such an amazing thing to be able to utilize as it would let us reach much much further than we ever would be able to without it. I look out at the night sky and sometimes I just look at the void between the stars knowing it stretches out infinitely past that. And there's so much we don't know. There's so much we can't even see because the light hasn't been able to travel to us yet. We're constantly staring at an echo of the past, and that is so crazy to me. In some ways, it's a form of immortality, I think. Your light is never really truly gone, and in millions of years maybe someone will look up and see the light of our star from this very moment.

Anyway, I, personally, am simply planning on not dying so I can see the mysteries of the universe being unraveled and so I can travel amongst the stars, but that's just me asdjkghjhdhkjdshldjhsds.

[thesoulspulse]

Regarding The Veil...

Now that I’ve reached the big reveal in the latest chapter of “Nevermore” about the true power of Necromancers and where it came from I thought I’d simplify the idea to share the lore of it here with you guys! But before we get into it, spoiler warning if you haven’t read this story or the original/old fanfics about Owen, aka “The Grimoire” and “Ravenheart.”

Nevermore: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14102184/1/Nevermore

The Grimoire: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12409238/1/The-Grimoire

Ravenheart: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12742285/1/Ravenheart

Alright, now if you’re sure about this let’s get started!

The basic idea is this:

The Veil, aka what the Ghost Zone was originally called, once overlapped the Earth directly but not many people could perceive ghosts let alone interact with them or vice versa apart from magically gifted or psychic people. So it was more like the classic spirit world we see used in most horror stories where only ghosts with strong emotions or other evil entities could slip through into the real world to cause problems.

Back then, ghosts didn’t have physical forms which means that even moving objects, turning visible, or communicating with anyone in the real world took a lot of energy to do so normally only the most determined ghosts/spirits would bother going through all that trouble unless they REALLY wanted something...

However, long ago Lilith, the Mother of Demons, vowed that if she could not become the divine mother to mankind then she would rule over the dead and made it her personal mission to capture and corrupt as many souls as she could to create Wraiths out of the darkness in their hearts. And since ghosts are typically anchored to the Earth by their unfinished business or feelings of loneliness, hate, sadness, and whatnot they're much more susceptible to her dark magic than the living are in most cases.

That’s why Death made the ultimate sacrifice to stop her once and for all by completely tearing The Veil away from the Earth to protect the spirits of the dead along with the rest of humanity, thus banishing her and her Wraith’s to the void that formed between the two realities. In other words, a realm that came to be known as the Nevermore where neither ghost powers nor human advantages work.

Death used the last of his power to give a select number of humans a portion of his power to help guide ghosts and other spirits which he also gave the means to defend themselves by altering their nature so they could use the raw ecto-energy he unleashed to attack their enemies as well as create new bodies for themselves. Still, almost every ghost still feels a natural pull towards the Earth where remnants of the old Veil remain. Not to mention many of them still feel the need to draw their energy from the living. And lastly, since the Veil was torn away so suddenly, there are places all over the Earth where the barrier between the real world and the Ghost Zone is thin. Especially in haunted places where natural ghost portals often form.

As for the Nevermore, it’s loosely based on Butch’s idea of an Unworld which is the same thing, a void between worlds where ghost powers don’t work and I just renamed it to the Nevermore. And before you ask, this is WAY before the Wednesday show on Netflix was a thing. Owen’s story has a lot of raven symbols which obviously made me think of Edgar Allen Poe’s poems which I’m sure inspired the name of the school in that show too but I digress! Anyways, the point is I thought that’d make a great prison for extremely dangerous creatures of darkness that even ghosts know to fear, aka Lilith and her soul-snatching Wraiths.

It’s extremely rare but sometimes when two large domains collide in the Ghost Zone small portals into the Nevermore can appear through the black hole similar to how natural ghost portals can form on Earth in certain places at random times. That’s why Lilith’s goal is to take over the Ghost Zone first and then unleash her army of Wraiths onto the living world to destroy humanity so that their souls will become her new children as well and she will rule them all as a Goddess of Death. And sadly Owen is the key to making that dream a reality which means she’ll need to bring him under her control first one way or another.

[christophermoonstar]

The Child of the Abyss: A Funny Tale of Cosmic Representation

Once upon a time—or rather, outside of time—there existed a place called the Abyss. It wasn’t dark and terrifying like you’d imagine. Nah, it was more like an endless, cozy void where everything floated around, waiting to become something else. Imagine the space between two thoughts, or that moment when you’re about to fall asleep but jolt awake. That’s the Abyss.

Now, in this Abyss, there was a problem. Every planet, star, and cosmic dust particle out there was getting worshiped. People loved Mars, Venus was adored, Jupiter was basically running a cult, and Saturn? Don’t even get me started on how many followers Saturn had on CosmicBook. But the Abyss? Nada. No one even gave it a glance. Not a prayer, not a chant. And this, as you can imagine, did *not* sit well with the Abyss.

So the Abyss went to the one entity it could complain to: The Almighty, Creator of All, Lord of Hosts, aka God.

"Look," said the Abyss, "You’ve got all these planets, stars, even black holes, getting attention. But here I am, just floating along, doing my thing, and what do I get? Nothing. I mean, am I invisible or something?"

God, sitting back in His throne, sighed. "Well, to be fair, you *are* the Abyss. You’re kinda supposed to be the backdrop, not the main attraction."

"But I could be so much more! People just need to see me! I mean, they’re worshiping rocks, God. Rocks!"

God stroked His beard, eyes twinkling like a mischievous grandfather with a plan. "Alright, alright. You make a point. The Abyss *does* need a representative. Someone who can show people that emptiness isn’t something to fear, but to embrace. But I’m not doing this halfway, okay? No shortcuts. This will take time."

"How long?" asked the Abyss.

"Nine incarnations," said God, holding up His hand—three fingers on each hand for the number 9. "A sprite will be born from the Abyss, and it’ll travel through nine realms, learning and growing. By the time it’s done, it will be the perfect representative. It’ll balance the universe, unite the multiverse, and maybe even get you a fan club."

The Abyss liked the sound of that. "A sprite, huh? Sounds cute. What should we name it?"

God chuckled. "Names are for mortals. You’ll know the right one when you see it."

The First Incarnation: The Flailing Newborn

In the first realm, the Abyss gave birth to a sprite—a squirmy, flailing little thing with big curious eyes. Its first lesson? How to walk.

Now, this realm was Earth, and as you can guess, the sprite’s first life wasn’t smooth. Babies fall a lot, you know? But every time the sprite fell, it learned something new about balance, not just in walking, but in life. The kid was clumsy, but with each tumble, it started to see a pattern. Why was falling so inevitable? Why do humans suffer?

And then the biblical metaphors kicked in—completely by accident. The sprite kept hearing this phrase: "The fall of man." Everywhere it went, people were talking about it. Coincidence? Maybe not.

By the time it had lived a full life on Earth, the sprite realized one thing: Falling isn’t failure. It’s a part of learning, of becoming. By the end of that first life, it took one look at the stars, waved its little hand, and said, “I’ll see you in the next life, suckers!”

The Second Incarnation: The Wise Fool

Next up, the sprite was born into a realm of pure intellect. Everything here was about logic, numbers, and reason. People in this realm worshiped the number 7, believed it was the key to the universe, and that if you could decode it, you'd unlock eternal wisdom. So naturally, the sprite was terrible at math.

But here’s the funny part: Every time the sprite messed up a calculation, something incredible would happen. It accidentally created a portal to another realm. It would trip over a quadratic equation and end up solving a riddle that had baffled scholars for centuries.

This realm was all about proving how fallibility was divine. And so, like a fool with a cosmic cheat code, the sprite navigated its way through, learning that truth isn't always in the numbers, but sometimes in the mistakes you make along the way. And hidden in there? The sprite figured out that 9, not 7, was the true number of cosmic completion. (Don't tell the numerologists.)

The Third Incarnation: Love, Actually

In its third incarnation, the sprite found itself in a realm where love was the highest form of currency. People exchanged hugs instead of money, and the closer you got to someone’s heart, the richer you became. But this time, the Abyss’s child wasn’t here to fall in love. Oh no. This incarnation was about jealousy—righteous, divine jealousy.

The sprite felt it in its bones. Every time someone loved something else, a spark of irritation flared in its heart. It was an incarnation of God’s jealousy—like when He got mad that people were worshiping golden cows. But instead of burning with rage, the sprite learned something deeper: Jealousy, at its core, was about wanting to be seen, to be known, to be loved in return. It was about craving attention, just like the Abyss did.

With a little self-awareness and some uncomfortable heart-to-hearts, the sprite learned that love isn’t a competition. It’s a reflection of the Divine—there’s enough for everyone. By the end of this incarnation, the sprite had a sneaky suspicion that maybe this whole multiverse gig wasn’t just about representing the Abyss, but about understanding love itself.

The Next Six Incarnations...

Through the next six lives, the sprite would travel through realms of power, wisdom, time, dreams, and even death. Each time, it learned a new facet of existence. It experienced the weight of responsibility in the fourth realm, where it became a king; it learned the infinite depth of knowledge in the fifth realm, where every question led to more questions. By the ninth incarnation, the sprite had seen it all, felt it all, and most importantly, embraced it all.

The Grand Plan Revealed

When the sprite completed its final incarnation, it stood at the edge of the multiverse, ready for its final task: to unite everything. It had learned balance, not just of order and chaos, but of love, pain, intellect, and even the divine sense of humor that threaded through the cosmos.

And there, God met it once again.

“Well done, little sprite,” said God. “Now you understand. The Abyss isn’t nothing. It’s everything waiting to become.”

The sprite grinned, now fully aware of its role. "So, what now?"

God shrugged. “You know the plan: Steward the multiverse into a haven. Or just chill. Either way, you’ve earned it.”

The sprite, fully matured, chuckled, “I think I’ll start with chilling. Multiverse stewardship can wait until tomorrow.”

And so, the child of the Abyss, once a clumsy newborn, now the wise and balanced representative, sat back and admired the universe it would soon unite, fully aware that it wasn’t the mistakes, the jealousy, or the falls that mattered—it was the journey.

And somewhere in the Abyss, for the first time, there was a quiet ripple of applause.

[therealaves-blog1]

I want the void to hear my takes on Star Trek: Coda

Luc Picard and the Wesley Mirror Enterprise Bois go to the mainverse and start scanning black holes to find the Devidian's hiding place (they need a certain size black hole to make a breach to intertime or whatever) Riker detects them arriving and goes after them hard, since most of the admiralty is dead he's ranking so he's calling in the fleet and puts a bounty on the ship among the other powers to get to Picard (he thinks they're hiding main Picard). He also is spying on Troi and recruited his caitian aide to do it as well. The bridge crew is absolutely nervous about his increasingly erratic behaviour, especially when Enterprise jaunts away and he starts calling them all morons.

Kira gets aboard her transport, uncomfortable but understanding how everyone feels a lot of bad stuff towards her awful fucking counterpart. Her transport picks her up and its Alt-Ezri in command of the refit Defiant of the mirrorverse, she's also bonded to Dax now for some reason. Kira is understandably very upset by this whole fucking thing, but keeps it together. I'm pretty sure Alt-Dax died off screen? Or at least was implied to in the ferengi fuck around ep in the mirrorverse. (Zek your brain is so big).

Spock and AltSavik meet the Prime Minster of the Commonwealth: Michael Eddington.

Truly this is a hell dimension.

Eddington tells them the parliament is arguing constantly and not doing anything about this whole end of the world thing. He and Savik both try to talk to them but no dice. Savik wont break her word to the Commonwealth and order the ships over to the mainverse cause they aren't Memory Omega's anymore (they all belonged to Omega and were given to the commonwealth but theres some political their about the influence Omega has and its a fun political angle I wish got explored more cause its like a weird inversion of 31 kind of?). Spock tries to get the parliament to see reason because his counterpart was big deal martyr hero and that still carries weight for him. They dont respond well and he gets called slurs (not kidding its described as people booing and throwing things and shit, wild). Savik gets an idea.

The Defiant team arrive in Borg Earth circa First Contact. The rift opens and the borg hold it open, they move in under cloak but get shot down. They dont fire cause that would reveal them as a threat and crash hard near the base (its where starfleet command was). Data, Lal, Bashir, Crusher, Sisko and Picard set out to go to the base and do their thing, leaving Worf in command to effect repairs. Picard starts hearing the collective even tho he's got no borg shit and tells the party but they dont have a choice but to proceed.

La Forge needs parts, so Worf, his alt dead wife and others go scavenging. They melee only and manage to get it all with only one person being seriously injured. Worf is hot for her and its weird for them but also not. She is also into Worf in the same way. Kira arrives at the Wormhole and its being blockaded by mercs because of the Dominion/maybe not just them. So they need to figure out a way to get in without being destroyed. Luc calls up Savik and is like 'we need reinforcements, Riker's off his shit' and she says the parliament is being shit and stealthily implies he should personally reach out to other ship captains, which he does after murdering a bunch of romulan borders. He also gets to yell shut up Wesley, which is silly and dumb, but ill allow it. Rene is basically being kept off screen for this adventure, but still shows up now and again to annoy his alt Dad.

The Borg boys reach the main base and find a way in but its chockfull of borg and the Collective knows that someone called Locutus betrayed them from the two drones that survived the initial time alter and assimilated the Earth. The Queen is interested in this, and wants to learn about Locutus. The vibe gets stronger as Picard gets closer and has a brief freakout but gets it under control. They get inside but its slow going and theres so many fucking borg, dog. Riker catches up with Luc and starts shooting bringing out Klingons to help, but Luc's call for help comes through and 11 other Jaunt ships appear and chase em off. Riker has a bigger freakout which everyone notes and is wild about. Troi briefly chats with his second and points things out stealthily hoping she got her on side before Riker pulls her away on a pretext.

They arrive at the final black hole and start scanning, quickly finding out its the place. Luc sends a ship (or two, cant quite remember) to rendezvous with the Defiant when it returns to the future. Present. Whatever. Its not even their universe or history. Riker has another freakout and slaps his XO which she uses to relieve him of command and send him to sickbay, he is pissed about this but cant do shit. Kira learns alt Bajor is gone from Dax, and given the collapse of reality and the heavy resistance that will likely kill them she asks for answers. Kira tells her whats going on and after a brief moment of coping, realises that its worth it to safeguard infinite versions of her dead wife. (She married Leeta based on their heavy chemistry in that one moment of the ep in S7 and then Leeta died somehow). She agrees to help Kira. Riker gets sedated and the Doc confirms he's definitely got two rikers in there. Troi goes brain diving using her own stuff and finds the other one so she calls in Tuvok who mind melds and helps her talk to other riker and bring will back to the front. He was aware of everything and needs to warn Jean Luc about something his counterpart knew. Lucky they're riding a transwarp current thingie to the black hole.

The Borg team get inside and find the command center of the beam, the old foundations the buildings based on let them find a way in but they need a distraction to deal with the heavy foritifications. Picard has another brain blast and realises that they're looking for him so he takes a grenade and a rifle to make a distraction. The distraction works and he realises the borg may have multiple origins due to failing to get a reaction from calling the queen by the name of the being that became the collective. The Queen disables his grenade and rifle and starts torturing him for information, not sure why, assimilation would be quicker but I guess she's cautious about a dude who she knows betrayed the collective?

Wesley rides a shuttle into the intertime breach to make a map so the ships can follow, he lands and sees the base and all the bullshit they're doing, including watching them destroy Bajor. He sees an older him who talks to him and creates a distraction which lets him run from the horde of Devidians. When he's cornered he sends his omnichron off to the shuttle and launches it back so they have info. Rene convinces Picard to go after Wesley when the shuttle comes back (the leave a log buoy for the other ships) and the small fleet goes in. It goes badly and they're quickly crippled. Luc escapes his ship with Troi and Rene. Wesley is tortured so they can replicate his traveller powers which they use to create the Time Ghosts and Time Snakes to his horror and send them back and forth through time to close the loop. Apparently this always happens or something.

Bashir and Data get in and take out the fewer drones, before getting to work. The fortify the room and Data and Lal stay behind to make sure things go off right. Crusher convinces Bashir and Sisko to go after Picard and they rescue him from the Queen as shes torturing his mind. They make it out but Sisko gets shot in the chest. Worf gets the Defiant ready to go, and Sisko dies with Bashir opting to go back for Data since he's the only friend he has left. Worf is right there Julian, dick move but probably for the best.

Ooph, a lot there, but like, its keeping me occupied, again dissapointed by the winnowing of the DS9 crew and lack of Voyager peeps. Like we got Kira, Bashir, and Worf left of our beloved characters, everyone else is either confirmed dead or likely died off screen because reality is falling apart. Feels like a bummer to not have Janeway ride in to fight time bullshit, especially since we havent heard shit about Torres or Paris since they were captured (presumably they died with Earth). Still, wish it was more everyones story rather than TNG feat the others. How will this end? will they succeed in retroactively erasing their entire history or will we get a fun hope spot. Hard to say. Find out next time on my Im rambling about star trek blog post.

[thisisonlytemporaryyy]

If my Mom was still alive, I’d give her everything that she never had. The house, the financial freedom, etc. Essentially everything that she was trying to create for Emma and me. My Mom always had horrible taste in men. My dad for example, was a *2nd string* football playing drop out, that was misogynistic and selfish. The type of guy that you would probably tell your daughter or sister to stay away from. He left my Mom at the alter, after finding out that she was pregnant with me. A few years later, she met my step dad and they had my sister. My step dad’s name was Rob. He had a rat tail, and he injected steroids. Repulsive. He beat the shit out of us constantly. She left him eventually, and we moved in with my grandparents. She died a couple of years later. Sometimes, when I’m driving I like to daydream (and disassociate) about what life would be like if she was still here. Would Emma and I be close? Would she have a husband? Would she be happy? Would I have become a heroin addict? I think that losing her really screwed up my thought patterns, and behaviors. I’m usually only attracted to people that resemble her- blonde, nurturing, kind, funny, etc. Is that weird? I don’t know. I think that my mommy issues are just super severe, and that I look for her in every drug, or female, or high, or feeling that I can get my hands on. I felt a small void from not having my dad growing up, but it didn’t even compare to the infinite black hole of desperation I felt from missing my Mom. Not even close. The emptiness that I feel without her will never go away. I will crave that motherly comfort until the day that I die. I hate it, but I’ve accepted it. The closest I got to feeling her again was when I was injecting heroin. Listen, before you judge that statement, just hear me out- when you use IV heroin, your entire body feels warm, and euphoric. Basically like your entire physical and mental form are being overwhelmed with love. That’s the only way I can explain it. Maybe that’s why I did it for so long? It was the closest thing to perfect, warm, comfort that I have felt since my Mom was on this earth. When I had heroin, I didn’t feel alone. I felt love again.