#im tired so this may not make sense. but I'm getting a little burnt out from writing

[forthedancingandthethriving]

(Context/Inspo)

Vitality didn't know what the hell was going on anymore. The past several hours had been a complete and utter whirlwind. She couldn't bring herself to go back to the Adminspace, purely because of what that prophet had said.

That damned coyote..

Vitality barley hears the doors as they open and the ensuing conversation.

Idly, she rubs her neck as she looks out the window. Her eyebrows furrow, seeing the sky darken a bit. Thunder distantly rumbled.

Her peacock feathers shuddered as she felt a jolt in the air. What-?

"You have to be kidding." Valiant's horrified voice brings Vitality out of her thoughts. She looks over, and her eyes widen, seeing the Pokémon, Ash, and his friends, but no Tama.

Oh no.

"Tama can't be- That can't be what happened-" Nimbus sounded panicked as she shook her head.

A pit grows in Vitality's stomach as she makes her way over. She half listens to the conversation at hand before nothing Hoopa - and how ill he looks.

"Oh goodness," she murmurs as she takes the Pokémon from Ash. "What's happened to him?"

"Absol said that it looked like all the teleporting that was going on was messing with him," Ash explains with a worried frown.

Vitality nods and, like a clock, she begins to work-

Only to freeze.

"No." She whispers as she feels that familiar code.

"Vitality?"

Ash's questioning tone barely registers as her own code gently pricks and prods at what's afflicting Hoopa. Clearing it all away, with more haste than is necessary.

It can't be his, it can't be!

He was meant to be gone, dead and gone!

The ground beings to rumble, and everyone stumbles, trying to keep their balance.

Vitality's gaze snapped to the window.

And her heart sinks, seeing the sky turn a sickly green.

○●○

Above the seal of Unus, kneels Tiresias and the frozen Tama.

"Monster," the prophet hisses to Damien. "Monster."

Damien can only smile as he draws a dagger.

..

Blood splatters, and the seal shatters.

And then another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Anotheranotheranother.

And across the world,

SHRIEKING

and

SCREAMING

comes as the sky turns a sickly green.

Damien's model glitches.

And Disc grins.

[nickscodthoughtsblog]

Stars (König/Nikto)

continuing to write more for the ship im calling Könikto now. last one in the series was To Understand. wanted to have Nikto's softer side come through on this one. again let me know if ive written something incorrectly here, i tried to write thoughfully

CW: slight depersonalisation episode

November 15th. 

Nikto had a habit of counting the days near the end of year, counting down until it went back to 01/01 again. 

He stood outside, arms resting over the railing of the ramp up into the main building of the base. A lit cigarette, loose between two in one hand, his mask in the other. Eyes gazing idly over the thin layer of snow on the ground. Peaceful. Undisturbed. Sure to be cleaned away by the time he wakes up. Or melted. 

He couldn't sleep tonight, voices in his head loud, pointing out wrongdoing. Over the last month, König tried to make time for him, to talk, and learn, and make him feel less alone. But he only ever asked about the system and the others. Not once did he ask about the rest of the issues his disorder brought, not once did Nikto point that out. He'd only rattled off what professionals had told him. What he knew how to phrase. 

He deserves the truth.

“I didn't lie to him.” Nikto muttered to himself. 

The whole truth. You left parts out.

Don't be a coward. He should know the whole story.

“I'm not a coward…”

For all his effort, he deserves to know the full extent of it.

“Shut up!” He hissed at himself, shutting his eyes tight. They calmed. He tried to breathe, for a bit. 

There he was, leaning against the railing. It was like he was someone else, watching him in the middle of the night. The way his index and middle fingers held the cigarette as his thumb bumped it up and down. His boot softly, rhythmically tapping the wood board under him. Eyes shut, scars exposed. Calm, from an outside perspective. How long was he going to stand there?

Something touched his shoulder. A gloved hand, tentative to grab him any more than feather-light. 

“Nikto?”

His name rolled so well off the Austrian’s tired tongue. Krueger. No, not him. König?

He came back to himself, blinking a few times as if to check he was really alright. The presence of the tall man next to him made him put his mask back on, worried he would see too much of his marred face. The fabric of the balaclava he had attached it to may have folded on itself a little, but he ignored it. “Are you alright now?” 

Definitely König. “Да.” He responded. “You do not need to worry.” The voices were talking again now that he was here. Urging him to explain what was left unsaid. He should.

“Were you dissociating?” 

That gentle question was enough to make the voices go quiet again. Stunned as Nikto was. Had he spent so long feeling guilty over not telling him the entire complex spectrum, just for him to know anyway? “I…didn't think you read up on that.”

“Why wouldn't I?” He shrugged.

“You did not ask for any clarity on depersonalisation and-”

“It seemed universal.” That… “Well, maybe not exactly universal, but not hard to understand. The information was right there. I thought DID would be more…individual, I suppose.” That made…sense. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “We just didn't think you'd go that far.” An unspoken ‘For me’ caught in his throat. He was just used to Krueger not asking anything. Taking what he was told and not pushing for a word more. It was new. It was…nice.

König's eyes still held some concern, but he seemed to decide on distracting Nikto instead. “Your cigarette is out, by the way.” 

He glanced down at it. Burnt out. “ебать…done with it anyway.” He flicked it away into the snow.

A short silence passed, as he noticed his friend join him in leaning against the railing. “So we did get snow.” 

He was looking at the white sea in front of them, a thin coating over the ground of the base. Nikto was looking right at him. “We did. It is a shame it will likely not last.”

“Ja.” He let out a breath, before turning to meet the other’s gaze. “Did you stay up to watch the snow fall?” 

“No. We couldn't sleep.” 

“Me neither…” 

Last he checked his phone, it was half an hour to midnight. He planned to count the seconds until it hit, and then try to sleep. But he didn't have to do it in silence. 

If he cares so much, maybe he won't scream if he sees your face.

Maybe he'll let you see his face in return…

Do it.

“I'll get to that…” he muttered to them. König seemed to notice, but didn't say anything. Maybe he could. Maybe they were right. But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he was ready. “Hey.” he started, trying to back himself into just going for it. 

“Ja?”

“...have you ever…wondered what’s under this?” he tapped the shell of his mask. 

“Your face?” 

“Obviously,” he sighed. “I mean what it looks like.”

“Maybe once or twice. Why, have you…wondered about mine?”

“On occasion…” Nikto shrugged, looking away from him. “Perhaps you hear that a lot.”

“Not as much as you’d expect. The recruits don’t question it because my hood is apparently intimidating. Everyone else is used to it.”

“We’ve been told the same.” He sighed, tapping his foot on the floor again. “I don’t see it. Do you?”

König took a second to consider, looking over Nikto's mask. “...not for you. More the rest of you that is intimidating.” Nikto huffed a slight chuckle. “You don't intimidate me very much, if you're thinking you do.”

“...the one time I'm glad about that.” He took a deep breath. “We're more scary without it.” 

“Really?” 

“...can we see your face, if I show you ours?” Nikto offered, a little unsure of it. The thought of scaring him off after a month of opening up to him was on his mind. 

“Of course.” König seemed to be perfectly happy to.

Nikto didn’t move until König’s hands went up to pull off his hood. For a moment he considered stopping him and backing out. No, he had to. He said he would. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair. He took off his mask, letting it rest against the railing, his hands keeping it steady. Close, in case he looked so awful.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cold air on his face, his scars. He could do this. He could let someone in. He turned to look over at König, seeing him looking back. His soft eyes scanned over what he was seeing. What did he think? What was he thinking? Disgust? Discomfort?

“...that’s a…big scar.” he commented. He must mean the damage done to the left side of his face. “Has it healed alright?”

“It has, physically.” Nikto worried, his voices getting loud again. Regret.

“Good.” König smiled softly. “That’s good. It must have hurt. Could I…touch it? Or would that hurt?”

Touch it? Why would he want to do that? “...it won’t. Go on.” Wordlessly, the austrian’s hand came up to cup his scarred cheek softly. He thought he was just being careful, acting like he was delicate. “Really. It won’t hurt if you put some pressure on it.” 

“I know…” He couldn’t wrap his head around it anymore. Why was he being so fucking careful and kind and sweet and soft to him!? Just to distract his mind, he took in the sight of his face. Only few scars, one over his eyebrow, the other following his jawline. Small imperfections, nothing major. Seems he tends to shave too, given how short his stubble is. Nikto couldn’t grow a beard on half his face, so he got rid of his stubble every morning. He was admittedly jealous of how it looked on König. “You can touch too, you know.” 

“Да…” He gently placed his hand against the other’s cheek, middle finger brushing over the scar on his jawline. Not recent. Perhaps a few months old. God damnit, why did this make him feel so warm? He should be cold out here, but sharing this moment with him made him feel good, warm inside, and happy. He wanted to ask why he would hide his face, not quite perfect yet beautiful. He pulled his hand back, not sure if this was right. König drew his hand away with a smile on his face. And maybe he could feel his lips ever so slightly drawn into a small smile in return.

“You know, you’re…the first person that has asked, Nikto.” 

“We are?” 

“Ja. Usually, I don’t get asked about my face. None of the recruits have the courage to ask, or with my friends, they don’t have to.” He chuckled softly. That sweet tune was going to be stuck in Nikto’s head, wasn’t it? “I’m glad you did.”

“...me too.”

They went back to looking at the sky together, masks off. Like they weren’t two military men who were supposed to be getting some rest for missions. Like they were friends. “Hey, look.” König pointed into the stars that were visible now the clouds had passed. “I think that’s the Big Dipper.”

Nikto followed his finger, taking a moment to consider. “It might be.” He studied the constellation for a moment, somewhat glad it was clear tonight. He took out his phone to look it up, and noticed the time.

November 16th. 00:03. 

But he didn’t want to stop stargazing just yet. Not with König by his side.

Sleep could wait a few more minutes.

[seldomscilence16]

Voltron in "The Little Mermaid" Part 2!

Alright so I wanted to get 2/3 of it out in July cause ya know Julance, so it may be a little rushed but im having fun so thats nice. And this one comes with burnt out art! (By that I mean I gave up half way cause drawing is hard but its still cute.) Once again, thank you to @paracosm299 for being the backbone to this fanfic. And I hope everyone else likes it too! If I ever find a laptop that doesnt hate me and tumblr I'll link the three together. Until then, hopefully my tags might work for ya'll...

Also, if ya'll havent listened to the music from all three versions (cartoon, live action, broadway) youre missing out and they are referenced in this part. So minor spoilers for the Live Action! ("Shes in love" OBC is a bop I do so recommend it)

~~~~~~~~~

Lance sprawls across one of the many rocks, chest heaving as he tries to slow his heart rate. His eyes roam what he can see of his collection, that familiar ache hitting him hard.

He just didn't understand. 

Here, in the waters he's always known, he should feel a sense of home. And yet at every corner, he simply feels trapped, unable to even breathe without the threat of punishment for doing it 'wrong'. Instead of love and encouragement, he is crushed under rules, expectations, and this pressure to do something, but with no idea what that something is. He has a vague recollection of a woman, with deep brown eyes- the only real feature he can recall- saying so earnestly, it was almost prayer-like, that he was their future. 

He still couldn't fathom what she meant. Lance, the future? Should he somehow outlive the Emperor, Lance would be taken down immediately, by those vying for the Triton. Sendak may drill his lessons and expectations into him daily, but Lance doubted very much he'd ever actually hold any power. The only future Lance can see, is either forever a decoration to the Emperor, or a trophy given to another. The very thought makes him shudder, but it's a reality he's long since acknowledged. 

Lance was no future. Lance was not free to be a future. Lance was simply... a dressed up prisoner. 

For every gadget, gizmo, whosit, whatsit, and thingamabob Lance found, for every glimpse of wonder, a longing grew. He wanted more than this, he wanted...

To be where the people are. To see them dance, to walk around on those... those... feet! To run along streets, to stay all day under the sun's warm rays, wandering free... was it so much to wish to be up there with them? He hasn't much to give, but he wonders idly, if he were offered a chance, would he give what was asked in return readily? To live out of these waters, for even just a day to spend warm on the sandy beaches. 

Coran has since crawled from his own little crevice, watching him with worried eyes,

"I bet you up there, they understand, that they don't reprimand your every move, that they see you for who you are. Im... I'm sick of swimming with an anchor strapped to my fin. I want to stand, free... is that so much to ask Coran?" 

"No child, to be free is not something that you should have to pay for." And the emotion in the man's voice has tears of his own burning in Lance's eyes. 

"I want to know everything, ask them my questions and get some real answers. Like, whats a fire and why does it, what's that word?? Burn! When will I be allowed to do something for me?" Lance swims through his treasures, towards the small hole at the top, reaching towards the surface he's forbidden from breaching, "I'd love to explore that world up above... out of the sea, I just... I wish I could be a part of a different world... I know that makes me terrible, but... I'm so tired..."

Lance stares at the barest glimpse of the moon before it's covered, casting a shadow that's dispersed by bursts of colored light. 

"What in the Seas?" 

"Wait, Lance my boy, it's not safe up there, not tonight!" 

But Lance ignores the octopus, for probably the first time, making his way towards the surface before he can stop himself, breaching it fully for the first time. Loud popping sounds assault his ears, and debris splashes around him, before him a little ways, is a large ship with joyous music playing. Lance looks around, maybe for a sign to turn back, but finds none, something almost seems to be... pulling him, calling him, towards the Ship. He navigates past the debris, until he comes to the side of the ship where smaller ones hang. It takes him a moment to pull himself up and into it, arms straining as he tries to remain quiet. 

There's a small gap that allows him to see the occupants, and a smile graces his face as he watches them dance. They throw each other around and slam their feet, and play instruments and drink. And just when Lance thinks it can't get any better, they start to sing. 

It wasn't as melodic as the songs of his people, or as hypnotic or power filled as the royal siren songs. And yet, Lance couldn't look away. To think that just as his people feared and hated humans, Humans too, feared his people. They were so different, but at the same time, not so different at all. 

One of the humans, seemingly younger than the rest, was on the edge of their celebration. The bright- and loud- lights in the air illuminated his face, eyes shining just so, like where water and sky meet. He's pulled aside by a taller man, who has a scar over his nose and a tuft of white hair laying on his forehead. They come close enough for their voices to drift to Lance's position, and he ducks away from the opening until only his eye is seen. 

"Keith, you know we have to go back." The taller one says, sounding apologetic. 

"Shiro it's my birthday, please let me have this one day not to think about that place." The shorter one- Keith- responds. 

"You know Kolivan will be coming over to lecture you soon. The late King-" 

"Wanted me to be trapped inside the castle for the rest of my life, isolated on our island home, never to do anything new because he had some crazy notion that that would keep us safe." He sighs, leaning heavily on the railing and staring off into the distance, the furry creature lays at his feet, staring at Lance curiously. He buries a hand in his fur with a smile. "I feel like the ocean is calling to me Shiro, I'm not afraid of it, I want to explore." 

Lance feels a sort of resonation, like he's looking in the mirror once again instead of at a human. Someone who sees a future, and is ready to make it himself...

A crack of lightning lights up the sky, violent and sudden as the ocean rises up and crashes against the ship. 

"Storms coming in fast! On your toes!" 

Lance jumps into the waves before he can hear more, he needed to leave, there was no telling if this was Posiedon or Sendak-

"Keith!" 

Lance's eyes flash back to the ship, to Keith holding the fluffy creature and throwing him as the ship is alight and collapsing. Lance curses in his head, diving below again to help, guiding him to the calls of the people in the little ships. When he comes up again, he sees no sign of Keith and a panic he can't describe grips his heart. 

He dives again, dodging wreckage as the ship sinks, swimming through the harsh currents in search for a splotch of red. His distress rises with each moment, movements quick and jerky, until finally, finally, he sees it. Unmoving except for his slow descent, arms raised like even in unconsciousness he's reaching for something. As Lance draws closer he sees the cut along his jaw, the ripped clothing, smaller injuries, and he's sure bruising will form. 

Hooking his arms under Keith's own Lance drags him to the surface. It's an effort to keep the human's head above the waves as the storm rages on, but Lance wont let him drown, not while he can do something about it. He heads inland, praying to any God that will listen, that the human survives. 

Even if it means his own demise when he returns to Atlantica. 

...

The sand is dry and coarse, but warm under the morning sun's rays, as he tugs the waterlogged human far enough from the lapping waves. His hand shakes as it hovers over the still form, the cut on his cheek still leaks blood, his pale skin taking on a sickly pallor, before he can really think twice, his voice rises from somewhere deep. A careful melody fills the air around them, a glow encompassing his own form as he finally places his hand to Keiths chest. 

It takes longer than he'd like for color to return to his cheeks, one now marred with a scabbing scar. A groan leaves his lips and Lance's relief is palpable, despite the exhaustion that settles into his very bones. He wants nothing more than to lay here, but he knows better. Shouts reach his ears, and with a reluctance he cant place, he returns to the sea, hiding behind a rock a ways off. 

He watches as a group of humans surround Keith, who seems at least semi-coherent now, watches as they make off towards their own settlements. 

"I don't know what this feeling is. I don't even know how I know, but... something changed. I've found the world I want to be a part of..." 

Lance watches until they've vanished from view, a pull stronger than ever before, calling him towards a human with inky hair and deep eyes, to a future he'd never thought of. 

If he lived past sunset that is. 

...

Allura practically falls on his head, Coran wrapped around his arm only a second behind. 

"Lonce! Where have you been!?" Allura is scanning his face, claws hovering, "Coran told me about the… thing… and then there was a storm and you were gone! We've been worried sick!" 

"Im sorry, I just-"

"Don't even think about lying to me Lonce!" 

Lance swears shes on the verge of tears, and he lets out a reluctant sigh,

"I…" he rubs his free hand over the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, "Rescued a human…" he mumbles.

"You did WHAT!?" 

"No one saw me!" Lance is quick to defend, admittedly a little petulant. 

"Shhhh!!! Sendak can not know about this!" Allura looks around in a panic, her voice hushed.

"Know about what?" A new voice asks from behind, nearly scaring Lance right out of his scales. 

Flipping around Lance sees someone he hadn't in several years,

"Rachel?? What are you doing here? I thought you all weren't allowed at the gatherings anymore!" They clasp arms, exchanging smiles.

"Well, he wants info on our territory then someone has to come." Her grin turns sly, and Lance thinks there's more to what she says, but then again, it always seems like there's more when it comes to them. "So what's this I hear we aren't telling?" 

"Nothing. Seriously guys, I'm already gonna get a lecture from Se- my father, I really don't need this right now." 

He sees a bunch of Mers heading towards the reefs, decides that's a good way to delay the inevitable, and follows. Though of course he has company cause they dont give up that easily. And to continue his declining luck, four more mers to add to his growing entourage. 

"Wow, look how big you've gotten!!" Lisa exclaims, looking close to pinching his cheeks like a Grandma- though Lance only knew this through observation of their pod.

"Lance has a secret!" Rachel blabs, leaning over his shoulder with far more excitement than necessary. 

He groans, pushing her away as he joins the other mers in cleaning up the reef, a twinge of guilt in his gut despite the cause of the storm being from someone else's power. 

"Oh, what, does Grumpy blob have a crush or something?" Marco teases, elbowing Luis beside him. 

Lance grumbles as he fumbles with the debris hes moving, internally cursing himself at the gasps around him. 

"So! You're acting fishy because you're up to your gills in love!" Rachel swoons backwards into Marcos waiting arms. 

"Oh Dios Mios." Lance would love for a cavern to open up, right now, beneath him, please. 

The only Mers who don't treat him like Sendak's property and he wants to throttle them. 

"I see it now!" Luis exclaims, never one to miss out on a tease, the traitor, "he's dizzy, dreamy, head up in the foam! His eyes have got a gleam in them, like there's no one home." 

"Someone get this boy a coastal shelf to mope on!" Lisa instigates, laughter in her eyes. 

"He's moody as a snapper! As sure as a dogfish bites, someone’s made him lose his head!" Marcos' grin is as lopsided as he is, floating above Lance's head, he shoves him away, wondering if he should just retreat. 

"Seriously guys flip off, it's not gonna happen." Lance heaves a larger piece off the side as gently as he can, frowning at the coral beneath, it would take a lot of song and time for these poor things to come back. 

"Come on tell us who the deep-sea hunk is!" Rachel leers at him, eyebrows dancing, behind her Lance glimpses Coran and Allura, one has a look of concern, the other… well Lance can't quite identify Alluras look. 

"There's no deep sea hunk." Lance turns away, seriously debating finding that shark again.

There's a long pause, but Lances hope of them giving up is crushed when Veronicas panicked voice breaks the silence,

"Oh no. Please, please no. Lance please tell me you didn't go and," She cuts herself off, looking around frantically before coming in closer with a low hiss of, "seduce a human?" 

Lance gives an indignant squawk,

"I did not, seduce, anyone!" 

"But there is a human??? Lance, what are you thinking? Liking human stuff is one thing, but this- Lance what are you thinking??" With hands on his shoulders to hold him still, Veronica levels him with a desperate look. 

"Ronis right Lance, the human world is no place for us." Luis, like everyone else, has taken on a serious face. 

And those expectations are back. Those heavy looks, so much weight pressing into his chest, and yet no clue what it is they want from him. What it is they think he needs to do. 'Youre the future, Lance.' 

"I don't know what it is you think is up there Lance, but just take a look around you! Life under the sea is better than anything they got up there." Lisa takes on a lighter tone. 

Lance knows what's coming, knows because he's been told before, has tried to convince himself, but something always comes to remind him why he wants to escape. 

"I mean seriously, what more are you lookin for? Up there they work all day-'' Lance pointedly looks at the debris he's clearing and Marco is quick to continue, "they're slaving away under the sun's hot rays. While we get to float around down here all the time, nice and cool."

Lance wonders what they do in their territory, for all of Lance's collection, it's taken him years of little moments of free time to gather stuff, and honestly half of it was Coran and Romelle gifting him stuff. 

"And you know what they do to fish on land, they're either in a bowl or," Rachel runs a finger along her throat with a harsh click sound, "on the plate. Just imagine what they'd do to us!" 

"Not to mention, they can't possibly beat our rhythm." Luis sports a confident smile, but Lance remembers the song he'd heard on that ship. 

As if on cue however, the reef comes alive with song. Healing waves of energy that quickly distracts the mers before him, and Lance takes his chance and bolts with them none the wiser. 

He heads towards his grotto, needing some peace and quiet before his inevitable summons. He liked the McClain pod, they'd been around as long as he can remember, but they always left him feeling like he was missing something. Not that they weren't missing some major parts to his story too, but Lance didn't want them to know either. 

He enters his grotto with a tired sigh, running on no sleep and brain still too busy and anxious for it to come anytime soon. He takes in his collection, hoping for some comfort or peace of any kind. Anything to stave off what's to come-

"So you've finally returned."

Lance flips around fast enough to make his head spin, there looming in the shadows of the entrance, Triton now glowing with power,

"My. son." 

…

Keith stalks through the halls of the palace, determined to find a ship, or a carriage, something so he can search himself. To find the boy who saved him, the one whose song rings in his head, the one who risked their own life to get him home alive. 

"You aren't supposed to be out of bed yet." 

He turns to see his mother, standing tall and regal, like the Queen she is, in the doorway to the dining hall. She eyes him, the bandage on his head, the scaring mark on his jaw, the unsteady walk of a sailor on land- and a waterlogged man who should probably be resting, maybe.

"I don't need rest, I'm fine." Keith wants to leave it at that, but of course,

"Join me for breakfast." She turns without his answer, not that he could turn her down. 

They sit, eating quietly, but Keith is tense. He knows she wants to say more, but she takes her time, figuring out exactly what she wants to get across. After so many years away, only to return after news of her husband's passing, the two knew very little of interacting with each other. It was Kolivan and Shiro that kept them from having a bigger rift than they did. 

"I don't want you going out there again. You need to be here, preparing for the throne." 

Keith takes a breath, before he'll say something he'll regret,

"The boy who saved my life is out there. I'm going to find him-"

"Keith-"

Keith stands, chair falling behind him,

"I don't want to be king. I never have. I belong on the water-"

She slams her hands on the table, silencing filling the room,

"You are grounded. There will be no sailing, you will stay here and heal." 

He stares at her, the woman who never cared to stay, who left his father to raise him. The woman who knew next to nothing of him, who wanted to trap him to this existence of walls and nothingness. He turns and storms out of the room, heading for the cliffs, anything to get away.  

All he'd ever wanted, as a boy born on a ship but raised on an isolated island, was the open sea and sky, freedom that seemed so far from his reach. He was only able to grasp some semblance of happiness sailing on excursions to learn and trade, his brother- in all that mattered- right beside him. 

And now, his soul tugs again, towards something- not quite new- but foreign in a way he'd never thought of. He's haunted, thinking only of a blurry memory of someone leaning over him, more of a feeling really, and a song he sings. A song  that takes him, to places beyond his wildest dreams, to uncharted waters miles beyond the seas he knows. 

Keith had been sure he was darkness bound, destined to drown at sea and never return home. Then, miraculously, he’s saved, pulled above the stormy seas and all the way to land, before being left alone, to stand on the shoreline while his mind remains lost at sea. He wishes only for him to be found again, so he can stop wondering about who he is, where he’ll be next, and to hear his song from the source rather than this echoing in his head. Someone somehow stronger than the undertow, yet able to glow silhouetted by the rising sun, to return him to land in only a night's time. 

He won’t be able to get over this mystery, something- someone- so intriguing, there was no way he’d give up before it was solved. Somewhere, beyond where man can see, with eyes that outshine the horizon line, where they can face the unknown side by side. Whether on the shoreline where he was left, or where no compass or map can guide him, Keith would find this mystery boy, no one would stop him. It’d be easier, he’s sure, for this boy to find him once again, right where he was left, but good things aren’t always easy are they?

Throw whatever you have at me, wild uncharted waters, he’d face it all.

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[sucktacular]

spilling my thoughts out about, oh, i might not just be anxious and burnt out from school! i might be burnt out as shit from masking my whole life. :) (new revelation to me)

so i learned something really juicy about myself with my therapist that im still kinda processing and dont really know how to move forward with it at all but its a realization that may help me with my agoraphobia healing????

SO YOU KNOW HOW IVE BEEN LIKE. Im so anxious im so scared of going outside cuz what if ppl judge me or are mean to me or whatever what if i cant fit in what if i look weird what if im targeted what if what if what if

so ive been going on for the past like... since march 2020 at minimum being like "im such an anxious mess i wish i coudl get my anxiety in check" and im sure thats a lot of it but ALSO

uhm... I used the word masking (i dont use it often cuz idk if it fits me and i also acknowledge its generally language used by autistic folk but also realizing now that maybe its something most neurodivergent folk can use? - plz dont get angry at me please if i use wrong words btw i'm uneducated and still teaching myself ; - ; but also clearly this makes sense for me also - and my therapist was basically like "okay, so, before we go forward, do you think that masking has anything to do with your agoraphobia?" as a point of asking me to think it over before we keep talking about it and for me to really personally think about it and digest it and... wow?? folks i think ive been masking so hard I burnt myself out?? which doing google research briefly i realize is definitely a thing (masking burn out) and i fucking

i cant believe ive been like "im burnt out because school is hard and im anxious all the time cuz im scared of ppl and thats it" when like yes thats fair and probably doesnt help but ALSO- WOAH MAYBE IM BURNT OUT BECAUSE EVEN TO OPEN MY FRONT DOOR TO GET MAIL IM ALWAYS LIKE OGH I GOTTA LOOK OKAY I GOTTA LOOK "NORMAL" I GOTTA GET READY I GOTTA PREP I GOTTA SWITCH ON THE NORMAL ME

if someone is delivering something i have to dress and brush my hair and preen and look in the mirror and take a mmoment to set myself up let alone if i go out into public spaces.

and we were talking and they asked what masking does for and to me, like whats the good whats the bad and like ive always known i wear myself out trying to be around ppl and public but i just chocked it up to being introverted. which is still a valid thing but thats maybe not... everything....

and i thought about it for a moment quietly and started getting a little choked up and was like, well masking makes me feel safe and makes me feel in control and right and like no one will pick me out to bother me or whatever. but then i started getting teary eyed and crying cuz.

i hate it. i HATE masking i HATE having to sit myself up right and preening myself til i have a head ache and i hate sitting on buses and the entire time being a whole experience where im just "dont look out that window its too close to that person theyll think youre looking at them and dont sloutch or youll look weird and dont move too much youll look weird and dont firdget youll look suspicious and dont look around youll look suspicious and definitely dont look at anyone or smile or wave and dont do anything just look out your window or your phone. NOTHIGN ELSE" and like... hm maybe thats not normal!!!??? I come home and im so tired im so tired and my clothes hurt me and my body hurts and im tense and im so burnt out emotionally and physically i avoid hanging out with friends because i feel like i have to act a certain way anyway when they know me and we both know theres no expectation for me to mask myself?? but i dont know how to turn it off at all.

its reminds me of finally learning to be okay with my hair. with not preening the fuck out of it before i go anywhere. that my natural dried hair is okay and good even. i rmember being in elementary school and i straightened my hair everyday because i have wavy hair and would brush it a lot and didnt know how to take care of it so it'd be a puffy long mess so the only way i knew how to fix that was the straighten it- and i remember one weekday night my straightener died and i was in HYSTERICS!!! I was crying!!! and begging!!! my mom for us to go to walmart to go get a new one. I literally felt like if I had to go to school the next day without my hair done that i would DIE!!!! something HORRIBLE would happen i wouldnt be normal enough and it would be the end for me or whatever. it freaked me out so SEVERELY. and like... i just chocked that up to anxiety and bullying, which yes it absolutely was. but maybe also... masking?? doing my little preening and things to make myself look less like a "weird kid" like less of a target

and like when i was a kid i always wanted to dress emo. i wanted the finger less gloves and i wanted the shaggy dark hair and i wanted the detailed outfits and the boots and the converse and the everything but i was SO SCARED to be seen as weird or out of place or give kids one more reason to bully me. and i remember being in high school like 9th grade and wearing striped fingerless gloves to school and i was so happy about them and at my locker some kids in my grade were lurking around behind me and loudly said something making fun of my gloves but not @ me just in general but it was 100% @ me even if i wasnt looking or involved. and i took them off... and i never wore them outside again... and then i sold them and got rid of them...

but like it took me so long to get to the point of like i care so much what ppl think but i also want to be what i want to look like and getting my hair cut SHORT and THEN dying it black and feeling like myself? i was so so scared out of my mind going in the next day but.... i also loved it?

and its just so fucked because i do all this shit to pretend to be normal and fine and safe and a trusting gentle person and I am, i am, its not a lie at all, but i make so much effort to make sure its a seeable attribute that like- helllooo??? IM ALT!!! IM GAY!! IM VISIBLY QUEER AND DRESS WEIRD!!! but im scared of being seen as weird?? what the fuck bro

and i know thats also internalized mental health stuff absolutely. even just saying "normal" and "weird" is very... yucky but i dont really know how else to describe it. but i see myself saying that and doing that and know its anti-mental health and anti-neurodivergence to feed into that within myself and externally

anyway just... damn man, im burnt out from masking all the damn time all my life and im just so tired of it to the point its easier to stay inside its easier to not take public transit its easier to get groceries delivered its easier to never go for a walk on my own its easier to do x y z but im deeply deeply unhappy

i think independence is so important to me, to be able to do what i want and where i want and do it ON MY OWN!!! i HATE relying on people i hate it so much. its not even so much the ego its just the feeling like i need to repay people for their kindness and money or gifts. and unless its specifically and perfectly said to not leave any doubts in my mind- im always going to feel like i need to repay them or that im a mooch and a bad person for accepting offers when i know i cant give them back?

just... fuck me man. and like my therapist brought up the fact i live with "strangers" and questioned how that effects me and like i cant remember where the end of that question or suggestion went but its true. i live with ppl i dont know too much past being nice people that dont seem to judge me or will allow me to have space without trying to talk me up or intrude on my personal space/personal time. but like....... yeah i couldnt begin to imagine what thats also doing to me.

thankfully ive gotten a lot better about living with strangers (ive been renting rooms in houses with other random tenants for the past ... 5 or so years?- this is the first place that wasnt student housing) but like man the gymnastics ive had to do to get comfortable just leaving my room to go to the bathroom let alone all the way down to the kitchen in the PvP zone. yeesh but yeah thankfully roomies now are super cool and super chill and will talk about problems without being passive aggressive or mean or confusing about it. ; w ;

anyway im rambling as fuck but uhm... yeah im burnt the fuck out and literally so tired all the time and anxious all the time and its probably got a lot to do with me internalizing what it means to be different, what it means to be queer and neurodiverse and what it means to my body and mind to try and pretend and switch on the "im normal and im safe and im a safe person to be around and im a nice person and im not a threat and im just minding my buisness" act that ive been switching on since i was old enough to be anxious about going to the front of the store without my parents to put a coin in the candy machine and trying to not freak out about the fact i COULD "look like im shop lifting or that i dont belong " even though ive never been in trouble for that when i was a kid and i never shoplifted as a kid and i was just doing what any kid would do????

so who else drinking the fucked up juice that makes you fucked up?