#i think ill be able to understand some of it

[mournwatch]

Not to like, completely derail, but you should check to see if the people writing stuff like this are trans men themselves and consider what it means when trans guys write about themselves in this way. I understand being annoyed by it, but I will put it bluntly: this is just a power exchange kink. This is someone writing their own personal fantasy about giving up power in a sexual, fictional context. It's extremely common for a reason, which is that many people feel like the only way they can enjoy sex is by letting someone else take care of it. And I think the relation of bottoming and having a vagina in these instances is simply just that the author has one and wants to bottom. It's not a statement of fact across all relationship dynamics, just an instance of the author's desires making it into the text.

Across NSFW blog Tumblr, there are so many trans guys also expressing their earnest, private desires to be submissive, without the facade of fan fiction to obfuscate what's really going on in their heads. And it's not like I'm saying this is universal, but it seems to be one of the main repeating genres of blog out there, just from what I've seen anecdotally. It needs to be said that no matter what kind of personal kink someone has, this doesn't necessarily reflect their understanding of reality. It can be a separately held desire for the bedroom only.

You can hold the desire to fictionally engage in kink that would trigger other trans men while also being staunchly against gender essentialism/homophobia/etc., and for celebrating the existence of guys who have had bottom surgery. I personally am like, 10 years on T, and I think wearing lingerie is hot, among enjoying other sex-related things people stereotype as "feminine" behavior. But it's important to note that no matter how feminine I make myself or my characters, this doesn't erase or overwrite someone being male. Sharing these traits is not the same thing as being "basically just a woman" and I find it a little ironic to call this gender essentialism while this is quite literally gender non-conforming.

In summary, I think it's important to not take these trends in fan fiction/ fandom as widely held beliefs about trans men or gay men in general.

It's important to learn to recognize just when something is triggering your dysphoria, versus when someone has actual misconceptions or ill intentions. It's also crucial to be able to coexist with people whose kinks are not yours without moralizing about this, because that is when the conservatism jumps out. And we should be better than this, than treating other trans or queer people as the problem. When I think the problem is actually seeing bottoming/submission/feminine behavior as inherently demeaning or invalidating, when this is a perfectly good thing to want.

(If masculinity is more your bag though, that's cool too. Then you should be channeling that feeling into some creative work, since people are generally always going to gravitate to their firsthand experiences, and we need your voice. )

i'm so tired of the yaoi-ification of mlm ships where people feel the need to make one of them (usually the fandom-assigned bottom) into a teeny tiny waifish twink and the other into a huge musclebound super aggro guy (usually the fandom-assigned top) i know this is like a thing many people have been saying for years but i just feel like it has never actually gotten better in fandom spaces. the fatphobia of it, the gender essentialism, the homophobia, it's all so fucking annoying it makes me want to scream

[syntheticsymp]

Synth is back! Time to feast. Content is just 🤌 I love how you go into depth of each chracters obsessions and what drives the possession in each. Especially regarding altered mental aspect of them understanding that while yes it is wroung they either choose or lack the ability to care. So I saw you taking inspo....chronic illness theme here What are your thoughts regarding a y/n that by means of genetic pop up starts to brake down functionality prior to whichever chosen character (go wild) has time to act. Assuming that they are either observing or working together. They start missing work for doctors visits, coming in late leaving early, lighter duty if not being shifted to a different role or department, longer break, but then that's not enough. They can't drive/ easily do so, they can no longer walk for a prolonged period of time, they can't even eat in or with other in mess hall for numerous reasons., this could even incorporate some sort paranoia or psychosis by stress or the emergence of something such as schizophrenia. At some point they decide to resign body no longer able to be forcibly pushed on by will and spite.

OOOOOOH ANON I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BRAIN. I only hope I can fulfill your vision

TW: Sickness, suicide attempt, angst

It didn't take long for Ghost to notice the change.

You used to be one of the most energetic operatives on base. You came to work with a smile, seemingly unfazed by the bloodshed you'd have to endure, ready to take on the next mission despite the danger. Nobody was ever truly prepared for the battlefield, but everyone knew that you'd rather risk your life than do paperwork any day.

So, the first red flag became clear when you accepted desk duty without a single complaint. Ghost should have noticed sooner, the small twitches of your hands, the way your footsteps became less sure, until you were practically tripping over yourself any time you walked. The vacation days he thought you were taking were actually for doctors' appointments, he had learned that from an overheard conversation instead of you directly. Your absence from base hurt. But knowing something was wrong and you didn't tell him about it hurt even more.

He had always tried to keep you at an arm's length. Close enough to observe, far enough that he wouldn't risk hurting you. 'Friend' was a loose term for what he was to you, and he knew you had no obligation to tell him what was wrong, but that didn't stop him from wanting to learn. Longing glances and well-placed grunts of approval cemented you around the base as his, whether you realized it or not. Unfortunately, a relationship wasn't possible for Ghost, not when his past haunted him at every turn. He wouldn't let you know that he was worried about you, he didn't even know how to bring up that conversation.

During your tenth sick day of the month, Ghost decided to finally ask. Not you, of course. He knew if he tried everything would come out wrong and you'd probably just tell him you were fine. That's what you did last time he saw you collapse in the hallway. You were nearly as stubborn as he was, refusing to admit the pain you were in no matter how apparent. That was probably the reason he fell so hard for you.

The squad medic was a close 'friend' of Soap's, meaning the Scott spilled everything he had been told the moment Ghost asked about you. The 141 had no problem encouraging Ghost's crush, but Soap was unable to keep your illness a secret. He grimaced as he said the three little words that were practically a death sentence.

Motor Nerone Disease.

A rare illness, made even rarer by your younger age. There was only a 50% chance of inheriting it from a parent genetically, which meant your entire life was a coin flip. One that you had apparently lost.

Ghost tried not to worry about it. During missions, it was hard to think about anything else than what was in front of you. But he kept coming back to the strange thought, the little research he had done into the subject. And the more he looked, the more terrified he became. It had been a while since Ghost felt fear, he had thought he had become immune to it. Imagining your death had reignited such emotions. He was cynical to a fault, seeing your death inch closer with every second he spent away from you.

All his life, he had only seen death occur with a bang. A gunshot, a grenade, a slash to the throat. The last time he was faced with something this slow and agonizing, he had been buried four feet under in the desert. That supposed death sentence had been enough, seeing you bear a similar cross, a death drawn out into different acts as your body shuts down one part at a time, was somehow worse than the terror he felt back then.

It was a miracle you could make it to work at all these days. How was Price still allowing you to come in? You should be home, taking care of yourself. No, letting Ghost take care of you.

Normalcy was a civilian fantasy; one soldiers weren't given the luxury of having. But in the back of his mind, he had always thought that by some miracle, he would end up with you. It was a stupid crush, but it was enough to keep him going. To put it simply, you made him happy. The short conversations and small compliments, a reprieve from the silence he was used to. It wasn't fair what was going to happen to you, the months dragging on yet still seeming so short.

It was only a matter of time before he found you again. Breaking down just as he had tried not to.

In the filing room of all places. A place only desk jockeys, and apparently a worried lieutenant, had access to.

Even with his tinnitus, he could hear your muffled sobs. His footsteps became a bit more hurried as he rounded a corner to find you.

You were barely holding yourself up, leaned against the nearest wall, your legs bent at an unnatural angle and your orange bottle of meds in hand. You could barely hold the little pills, near twenty in your palm. If not for the delay in your actions, the sickness that kept you from moving, you surely would have taken them by now. And while Ghost didn't know the dosage you needed, but he wasn't naive enough to think you needed so many.

To be honest, he didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen a person deteriorate like this before, not so quickly. And you were the last person he expected to see so broken.

Neither of you spoke for a long time. Ghost rarely spoke before, but now he was at a loss for words for a different reason.

When the silence was finally broken, it was by him.

"...why?"

It took you multiple tries to speak, still fighting to keep control over your own body. "I can't keep living like this."

It was a quiet moment. Too quiet. The screaming silence, staring at the person he loved like this, it hurt him.

"So, you planned to OD?"

If you were capable of flinching, he was sure you would have. He was never the best with his words, but he wished now that he had put in more effort to phrase things more softly, despite how angry he was. How could you do this? How could you be so flippant with your life? How could you leave him, after he had finally found a selfish happiness within you?

"I can't keep doing this, Ghost," you whispered, vocal cords run ragged from crying. "It's not worth living if I'm going to be half-dead."

He didn't have anything to say to that. He didn't have anything to say at all. He wanted to storm off, leave you behind like he should have done after first seeing you, after first falling for you. He wanted to run, just as he had done his entire life.

But he couldn't keep running. Not this time. Because if he left you, he wasn't sure if there would be anything to come back to.

"I'm going to keep getting weaker until I can't breathe!" You yelled as coherently as you could. "Do you understand what that is like? I'm going to die. Not on the battlefield, not fighting some enemy, but on my back. Unable to move. Until my body just decides to give up. And I can't do anything about it!"

He wanted to wipe away your tears, but he knew that would just prompt you to lash out. He had been through this delicate dance before, but he never thought he would have to do this with you.

He crouched down to your height.

"You're being irrational, soldier," he said, falling into his role as the lieutenant. Someone braver than Simon Riley. Not a person, but a Ghost. In tantum, he fell into his own familiar role of denial. "There are ways to fix this."

"What, you think they'll develop a cure they never thought of before within the next few months? I have weeks, Simon. A year at best." There was hate in your voice, but it wasn't directed at him.

Ghost was never a hopeful man. That part of him died in the fire along with the rest of his family. But for you, he had to be.

"At this point, it's not worth going to my appointment today," you said quietly. "I don't want my last days to be spent as a vegetable. I'm a soldier. I can't just fade away."

"Suicide isn't a soldier's death." Every word he spoke was forced from gritted teeth. He wasn't good at comforting people, he never wanted to be. The best he could give rookies to get over their panic attacks was Soap. But this was different, this was you. "Give me the pills. I'll take you to the car. We are going to that doctor's appointment."

You shook your head. "I can't--"

"You said you wanted to fight, right?" His eyes stared into your broken soul. One broken creature attempting to reach out another. "Then fight."

You didn't take his hand, nor did you give him the pills. But for some reason, his strange motivation worked. By some sheer force of will, you managed to stand, supported only by the surrounding filing cabinets. Walking would be another story, but you needed this small victory.

"I'm sorry for that, lieutenant," you mumbled, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, not realizing how the title scraped Ghost's ears. He didn't want to be just a lieutenant, not with you, but that was all he could be. "I don't mean to bring my personal life into work."

The words he never said got stuck in his throat, tangling together, twisting into knots and spilling poison in his gut. He needed to tell you, if nothing else, at least how he felt. He knew it was selfish to put that on you, that you didn't need more stress on top of your disease, but he needed to say the words.

His voice was rough, his gaze trained on the ground so you wouldn't be able to see the tears beneath his lashes. "You're a part of my squad. You are my responsibility."

Once again, he was too weak. He couldn't tell you how he felt, even like this. Because, the truth was, you were never once weak to him. Even crumpled in on yourself, you were the strongest person he knew. Ghost was the weak one, unable to admit to the feelings that had been clouding his mind for so long.

Perhaps he'd finally in the next life. A life where you were given the chance to be happy, where you weren't sick, and he wasn't weighed down by trauma. Next time, the two of you could finally get things right. He prayed to a god he had long since forsaken that he was given another life, another chance, to be a man worthy of you.

And until then, he'd take care of you, whether you wanted it or not. He couldn't hurt what was already broken. If you were only going to have a few moments longer, he wanted to spend them with you. No longer running, just allowing himself a few stationary moments before grief would inevitably destroy him all over again. He simply hoped he was strong enough to stay with you without fear.

[manofthepipis]

Hiii! Just wanted to say that while waiting for the last update of Beyond Repair (which was delicious btw, I can't wait to see the conversation that follows THAT Cliff hanger, i need those two to communicate for once in their narratively-doomed lives please) I was craving more of your writing and I kind of binge read all your spamton fics and by goodness you have some of the best fics in this fandom and your way of writing the DR cast is genuinely perfect.

I never thought i'd get invested in the relationship between the addisons and spamton but GOD you build it up so well,,,,all that resentment and jealousy and regret and what-ifs… it's so cool to see a take where both parties are in the wrong and they both know it (in beyond repair it hurts even more bc thye dont even get a chance to try and reconnect and it hurts wenwefjw). I love how you use all the in-game details that you can, even the fact that the addisons were turned around while thye explained the spamton lore in ch2. and ngl im. obsessed. with the Dynamic you gave spamton and jevil in the Keeping Neo AU and the separate jevil fic. Jevil has such a specific speech quirk and personality yet you capture that chaotic gremlin energy he has mixed with that eerie sadness and vagueness that makes him such an enigma but so so fun to witness in action. He doesn't seem easy to write but you keep him so true to canon in the way he speaks and acts. also I know theyre platonic in the fics you've written but I cannot deny that the spamvil shipper in me is THRIVING with those interactions, 10/10, spinning those two besties in my head until the end of time, do not separate them (they will cause untold mayhem and destruction but theyre very cute and it makes jevil happy so i forgive them).

Anyways, i also cannot get enough of Beyond Repair, the way you keep the characters' voices and personalities feels so true to the original material and it's such a blessing to see such a Good fic portraying the spamtenna partnership showing both characters' faults and yearnings, instead of being too sympathetic to either of them. I especially love the adamant denial Tenna has throughout the fic, it's the mix of tragic and funny that perfectly suits his carácter?? Yeah, the guy who seems to not notice/care that Mike is three separate people with no resemblance at all among them and different from the Mike that was there when spamton was around WOULD definitely be able to reach that level of denial. And spamton??? You probably write my fav iteration of his speech quirk and your commitment to make it a fundamental part of his character (ad breaks making him hard to understand to other people, him questioning his identity after writing without ad breaks in the keeeping neo au, etc etc) is sooo appreciated. Lately I've seen a lot of black-and-White thinking with spamton in socmedia, with people reacting against the ch2 "woobification" by treating him like an embodiment of everything evil in the world and the true villain of the game (some even blaming him solely for the weird route, somehow) or some sort of irredeemable demon from birth, so seeing a true appreciation of his character in your fics, where you do not shy away from his narcissim, selfishness and BIG flaws nor his tragic existence and fate, is such a breath of fresh air. ESPECIALLY in a spamtenna story lol

Either way sorry for babbling but tldr ive been obsessing over all your fics lately, you've irrevocably converted me into spamtenna and spamvil and thank you so much for your passsion and great Works, your commitment to keeping some of the silliness and charm of the original game and keep it as canon-faithful as possible is super engaging and beautiful. ill be eagerly awaiting the next chapters of beyond repair that will cause me incredible emotional pain and joy in equal amounts. all the love and support to you!!

FIRST AAAAA idk what to say im so beyond flattered bc writing these guys gives me sm joy and im happy like even tho my old fics are sorta outdated now (alas the passing times in the deltarune fandom), ppl still go back to them?? like 2021 me would be going as insane as i am rn

jevil like spamton was rlly difficult to write at first but the more i did it the more his speech kinda flowed like he has this cryptic poetic style to him that's so so fun to meddle with and yknow i forgot about my solo jevil fic but ive had the next chapter in wip stage for god knows how long lol i should?? upload that sometime maybe. he just rlly likes his chaos :3 luckily for him spamton is uncontrollable to even himself, he's a danger to himself and others, whether intentional or not, he has motivations but he's so unstable and jevil gets an kick out of it bc nothing matters. throw neo into the mix and it just becomes a party at that point

tenna is also so interesting and im so glad someone pointed out about he's oblivious to the Mikes, but also bc he seems to get in his own head a bunch, it's how he copes with it all, and this is also how he tries to help kris through the divorce. just keep their eyes on him and keep them distracted enough to pretend that nothing is going on. not saying he can't accept the reality of things, in fact he does all too well! but like isn't it BETTER to just stay distracted with TV? after all you can learn anything from tv! tie this character aspect into the fact he's been missing his special little mailman for years, giving him this importance and this pedestal and this image that's big enough to shirk his own blame onto for the loss of his show and eventual irrelevance. with this i feel like it'd take a lot to break that barrier of denial if he was wrong and it had all been for nothing, which i tried to get into when writing. man i miss tenna

i don't have twitter or tiktok or instagram or rlly anything except tumblr, and im kinda glad i don't bc of the reverse-woobification like ppl are straight up forgetting that spamton is so complex bc idk i think a lot of ppl like to categorize characters into black and white boxes bc they're written so dynamic and ppl literally cannot comprehend the grey areas, or the in-betweens, or they don't care enough to comprehend it bc it's all about consuming the next piece of media. it's insane and i hope my lil fic at least defends against that whole thing lmao but tbh i think ill just stay here in my lil tumblr bubble where ppl are at least kinda cool and treat him sillay still. spamton is my favorite character of all time BECAUSE he's a horrible narcissistic selfish asshole but also bc he's legitimately hurting and desperately wants to become something more than he is. his whole entire purpose after his defeat is helping the lightners free themselves from their own strings bc he doesn't want to see his friends go down the same path he did with neo and what part of that speaks pure evil for ppl on socmedia? i don't get it ;v; imagine ur whole life crumbles and everything u worked for meant nothing. then there's these sweet kids that u tried to just kill and they're going down the same path. he switches to helper mode so fast and that says so much about him even WITH all his selfishness. love him fr

no but fr tysm for enjoying my arts!! i feel i went a tad bit off the handle but i rlly appreciate it!!

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch25.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "I'm In It With You" by Loreen. (Or it will be. Very soon.)

Caitlyn is so tired that she falls asleep standing up in the shower. Write what you know.

It's sad, of course, that Caitlyn panics at not being able to find Vi in the bedroom. But it's also kinda funny. Like, yeah, the last time you left her alone, she panicked, BUT when you came back Petra was tending to her. What did you think would happen this time, Cait? Did you think Vi would have a panic attack and Petra would just leave her alone and not tell you about it? Someone's not thinking clearly.

Caitlyn stumbles toward the table and Vi immediately goes to get up to help her. And Petra, in possession of the only brain cell in the apartment --

I kinda wonder if Petra is like that one person on tumblr who likes putting fitted sheets on the bed. Because she's doing it a lot. And yeah, there are reasons - Caitlyn's sweat-inducing nightmares, Vi needing things to be clean so she doesn't get sicker, a desire to get the girls to actually talk without Petra in the way - but still.

I actually almost wasn't going to include Cait's nightmare. But I kinda wanted to show just how much her guilt (irrational as it may be) is still haunting her. How putting Vi down would have never stopped torturing Caitlyn. How the Baroness was so clearly using Vi to hurt Cait.

Also the idea of Caitlyn realizing just a second too late has been haunting me for a while, so I had to toss it in there. What would have happened? A shot from her rifle from that close... Vi's head would've been destroyed. Would Caitlyn have tried to move her body to the bed? Held vigil? Laid down beside her and hoped, one last time, that she never wake up again?

I think the avoidance here with the tea is similar to the way they were both lying to each other during their escape from the mansion. The lie isn't supposed to be read as a "I'm good, don't worry about it" so much as a "I can't talk about it now, please."

I really like that the thing that really finally prompts Vi to finally say "I love you" is Caitlyn remembering something as simple as how peppermint can be used. There's so much to it - the little bits of trivia (airship vs dirigible), the attachment to her family, the noticing of Vi's sore throat, the silliness of pretending to be haughty in telling Vi that she noticed - all boiling down to "I'm here and I want to help because you're my family now." If Vi needed any more confirmation, she's got it.

After five years of waiting (and never even hoping until the last week), Caitlyn finally gets to hear those words. She doesn't immediately say them back for two reasons: 1. Actions speak louder, especially when Vi is still having some issues with language; and 2. She already said it, way back in Chapter 9, when Vi couldn't quite understand the words but did understand the sentiment.

"Can I kiss you?" "Gods, yes." has been in my notes app for MONTHS.

Even now, Cait's being careful not to touch Vi's scalp. That's why she holds her around the ribs.

I'm ace, so I don't know how well I'm pulling this off, but I'm trying to keep slipping in that Caitlyn still thinks Vi is beautiful. Like, yes, she's ill and way too thin to be healthy. But Caitlyn still sees her: who she was, who she is, who she can be. (Vi doesn't realize this, which will come up again later.)

Caitlyn doesn't mention that she is still under the impression that Vi was repeatedly raped on the Baroness's orders. That will also come up again later.

I'm a little obsessed with the idea of love being like gravity, something unwavering that keeps you close and always pulls you back before you can drift too far. ("You are the sun and I am just the planets spinning around you")

Caitlyn's brain is still making the Windows error noise every time Vi smiles or laughs.

God, I love Petra. Kinda the ace experience to just be like "can you two just fucking communicate?" and then tease them for being sappy when they finally do it.

And Caitlyn, the detective, immediately working out that Petra pushed Vi into this conversation, just from two exchanged glances.

"They should get some more sleep" - they will not.

They totally made Caitlyn carry the mugs so that she wouldn't be able to stop Vi's from walking on her own. Vi's in that uncomfortable stage of the healing process where she's not strong enough to do everything herself, but she's still looking for some level of independence.

There's something so intimate about touching someone's face. I think it has to do with the level of vulnerability. But it also plays into the way Caitlyn is trying to relearn Vi - she's lost enough weight that her face has changed, and Caitlyn is retracing planes that she used to know by heart.

And the nightmare again. Interesting that Caitlyn goes for the spot where she would've shot Vi and not the spot where Vi actually was shot.

Vi immediately piecing together that Cait's touch stilling on her forehead has to do with her nightmare. She's so smart, you guys, and she can read Caitlyn so well.

Mmm, this is a hard conversation to have. How do you tell your loved one that you forced them to leave you behind and expected them to just get over that? How do you tell your loved one that you didn't move on because you didn't want to live without them and you're still angry that they forced you to try? We're definitely going to delve into all of this again later.

Caitlyn tries to brush off Vi's concern here by implying that she's been with Petra for longer than she has because she doesn't want to admit that she's been so lonely for so long. She doesn't want to hurt Vi. Honestly, I don't think she realizes just how angry she is yet about Vi taking away her choice on the night of the Purge.

Vi doesn't let her get away with the lie because she's still rightfully worried about Cait's mental state. If she was passively suicidal without Vi before, and Vi still isn't entirely out of the woods... That's something they need to talk about.

Okay, that line about stepping out of her cell into sunlight? That's referencing Vi being freed from Stillwater. She didn't know that Jinx was alive, she thought her entire family was dead. And yeah, she was being driven by revenge. But there was also that tentative little feeling towards Caitlyn, that little bit of possibility that I don't think she could've anticipated. So here she's basically thinking 'well, even when I had nothing and no one, I still found the smallest spark of something that could grow into love. So why couldn't you, Caitlyn?'

The difference, I think, is that Vi is one of the most hopeful characters ever, and Caitlyn is older and harder and more stubborn about letting herself move on. Vi moved on because she wanted a future and Caitlyn didn't move on because she didn't want one.

"I've tried that before" - Maddie reference!

I also think Caitlyn was right here. It wouldn't be fair to her or her partner to stay with someone just as a replacement for Vi. If you can't love a person for who they are, then you shouldn't be with them.

Mmm, just imagine the horror of realizing that, if not for random chance (and the author loving you dearly), Caitlyn wouldn't have found Vi. Caitlyn would have gotten herself killed in search of vengeance and Vi would still be in captivity, being slowly tortured to death by the Baroness.

"Sometimes, we aren't given the choice" - I reworked this line so many times to make sure it could be read as both 'the Purge didn't give us a choice' and 'you didn't give me a choice.'

"...replacing her with-- 'Vi?'" - Because they're helping her heal, so they are kinda replacing her with herself, in a way.

Hm, that "Always" sounds like a pretty intense promise. I wonder if that'll come up again.

Teaser for the next chapter:

A short stretch of quiet passes before, voice vibrating just enough that Vi can feel it against her shoulder blade, Caitlyn starts humming.

It's tuneless at first, just a few lilting notes at a time around quiet pauses. But then it hesitantly begins to change into something... familiar.

For a split second, Vi is a child, sitting in an adult's lap as a woman gently places a baby in her arms. She remembers a braid of thick purple hair brushing against her face as a woman bends down to kiss her forehead. She remembers a bridge, with blood and bodies strewn through the rubble.

Her breath hitches. "What - What song is that?"

[fstarnd1sco]

great idea i had for a fic:

when jayce's around 26, he and Viktor are testing out some new way to contain the crystals' energy when a fuse blows up and the prototype explodes. this was pretty standard for them, so Viktor doesn't really react to the explosion apart from the original finch and blowing out a breath. He lets out his usual "you alright?" not even looking at jayce as he dusts himself down

jayce doesn't reply.

he's face down on the ground, unmoving. That is the worst day of Viktor's life.

A big chunk of the frame had hit him square in the jaw but the impact against the ground had been what had knocked him out. The doctors said it took them two hours to fish out all the crystal fragments off his face and neck, said that there might be some still under his skin, but that they were not harmful.

jayce sleeps for two weeks and three days.

he wakes up on a Tuesday. Viktor is working, sitting on a chair by the window, just beside him. He has not slept for days. One second he is reading his notes and the next he's glancing at his partner to find him sitting up, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. Viktor puts his notes aside and straightens his back, ready to stand up, but the movement startles jayce so bad a finch almost knocks him off the bed. When he locks eyes with Viktor he looks terrified, like a bunny in front of a wolf. Then they relax. Then Viktor could swear he can see grief in them.

jayce throws himself off the bed, towards Viktor, falls to his knees trying to stand up and crawls his way so, so quickly towards him. Jayce collapses over Viktor's lap, clinging to him and mumbling things Viktor cant make out.

with a shaky hand, Viktor hugs him back. It scares the shit out of him.

and after that we have a like, Victor Frankenstein and Henry Clerval kind of situation in which, it is explained throughout the fic (to a reader that understands this because of the events of the show, but not to viktor) that when he was unconscious jayce had been trapped in one, or maybe more, of the bad realties like the one from ep 7.

jayce is so distraught from what he has seen inside the arcane he spends the summer bedridden, he suffers from night terrors and fevers (ejem ejem Frankenstein ep5 BUT jayce is victor and viktor is henry and not the other way around because how FUN is that change of dynamics??) and Viktor takes care of him.

i think a good way to end this would be a scene where jayce asks Viktor something like "you are still working on hextech, aren't you?" and with a heavy heart Viktor replies that he is. Jayce tells him that he does not want him to, but its said with no energy, melancholically. Viktor goes on about how he would make sure that the things jayce saw would NEVER happen. Jayce just looks..... defeated. He says that he cannot stop Viktor and then the reader understands that jayce, truly does not have the strength to stop Viktor OR to leave Viktor. so he just. stays. knowing.

and they repeat the cycle all the same, and they have the same exact ending.

[sunnys-aesthetic]

imo shoot me dead i guess but some of you are getting a bit too comfortable posting some back end cannibalism stuff for cotl art i was previously 'ok yeah cool!' bc i understood the dark themes of the game! and how it had a ritual for it. but uh oh.

[pineapplesagainstpizza]

........

[phagodyke]

pain so bad I woke up 2 hours ago and haven't been able to sleep again and I have work today :(

[trees-to-meet-you]

Wait waitwaitwait I just saw something on Pinterest hold on

Was Snufkin deadass not aware he had parents??? Until Moominpappa was telling him about them??? Did he think he just spawned one day what

[clumsypuppy]

man ok so you know the spiciness scale on menus that show you how spicy a dish is so you can order based on your tolerance. can we have that for sauces too please

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I was just listening to a song I used to love while we were friends. I listened to it so often, we talked so often, it became the background music to our relationship.

I'm listening to it while I knit. I often forget that I started knitting because of you. I remembered tonight. It's strange, I never knitted anything for you. I've knitted for other loved ones, rarely for myself, but never for you. I remembered you showing me the amazing things you made, and I wished I could get to that level of skill. But at that time, you had to explain to me how to purl because I couldn't get it.

Everything reminds me of you in a terrible way. Everything I do is an echo of you. I started painting so that I could paint for you. I started knitting to bond with you. I hear your voice in the music I listen to. You're haunting the things that I love. Will I ever make a brush stroke or stitch without you on my mind?

[fullmetall]

thinking abt hohenheim 2day

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[depresseddepot]

I'm trying to find ways to slowly ease my way into taking walks (debilitating social anxiety) so I was going to download pokemon go again but my phone is too old :(

[doctorwhoisadhd]

there's a certain quality the harmonies of like... early to mid 2000s alt rock has. which i am obsessed with... like i wanna do that. i NEED to figure out how to write harmonies that sound like that