#it seems they're all dying one by one in just a few months

[bat-the-misfit]

my cat ran away and we can't find her haha :)))

[mcdynamite]

Steve Harrington learns a lot of things about Eddie Munson in the months following Vecnapocalypse.

He learns who Eddie's favorite bands are and what toppings Eddie likes on his pizza. He learns that Eddie likes to talk, but is also frighteningly observant. He learns what Eddie is like when he's high, when he's drunk, when he's exhausted after weeks of shitty sleep plagued with nightmares. He learns all of these things and more, and he’s surprised to find that he really, really likes what he learns. Because Eddie is weird and loud and quirky, but he's also kind and attentive and the sort of person who just wants to bring a smile to your face when you're hurting, and it's good. 

Eddie is good.

The thing Steve learns that he can't seem to stop thinking about, though, is that Eddie is undoubtedly the most physically affectionate person he's ever met.

It starts in the hospital, less than forty-eight hours after Vecna's defeat, when Eddie wakes up. Steve is on Eddie Duty at the time, keeping watch over a man who hasn't woken up since nearly dying in the Upside Down, when suddenly... Eddie's hand twitches. And Steve does what anyone would do - he scrambles to grab hold of it. He takes Eddie's hand and squeezes, and sure enough, Eddie squeezes back and then he just... won't let go. Eddie’s fingers stay curled around Steve’s even when his eyes flutter open, and the nurses come in to check on him. So Steve holds his hand until the drugs pull Eddie back into slumber, and he doesn't think much of it.

Only, after that, it's like the floodgates have opened. Eddie is touching Steve constantly. He's linking their arms while they walk out of the hospital for the first time. He's sitting so close during movie nights that their legs press against each other. He's resting his head on Steve's shoulder - sometimes even dozing there. Or when Steve is tired, he's pulling Steve towards him so Steve can have a few minutes to close his eyes, secure beneath Eddie’s arm.

It's weird, at first, but it's not uncomfortable. Just... different. So Steve just goes with it.

By the time a few months have passed, he's so used to touching Eddie that it hardly feels like anything more than the natural next step when they eventually start sharing a bed.

They're at Steve's house the first time it happens - loose-limbed and sleepy from the joint they shared earlier with Nancy and Robin. The girls have taken the guest room for themselves, and Eddie doesn't even bother to ask where he's going to be sleeping. He just follows Steve to his room and climbs under the covers beside him - both of them stripped down to just a t-shirt and boxers. Steve doesn't question it, not even when Eddie scoots a little bit closer, eyes wide and searching, and brushes Steve's arm with the backs of his fingers.

"Night, Stevie," Eddie says softly, fingers drifting leisurely back and forth on the skin of Steve's bicep. It feels nice. Soothing. It makes him feel strangely warm inside.

So Steve just smiles, wishes him goodnight in return, and lets himself drift off to sleep.

The second time, they're at Eddie's. Steve has rushed over to the trailer in the middle of the night after receiving a frantic, post-nightmare phone call from Eddie. Steve takes one look at the metalhead’s red-rimmed eyes and trembling bottom lip and pulls him into a crushing hug.

Eddie clings to Steve like he's afraid to let go, and Steve lets him. Eventually, they end up in Eddie's bed, but they still haven't let go of each other. Steve lays on his back and wraps his arms around a trembling Eddie, who pillows his head on Steve's chest. Eddie is wrapped around him like a koala, and Steve thinks it should be weird, being so close to another guy, but it's not. It just feels safe, and he gets the best night's sleep he's had in years when they finally find sleep again.

Then, it just sort of keeps happening.

Sometimes, Steve calls Eddie after a nightmare, and Eddie makes the drive to Loch Nora to cuddle Steve back to sleep. Other times, it's the other way around. Sometimes it's neither, and it's just them making excuses to stay over at each other's houses ("I had a beer, so maybe I shouldn't drive"; "I don't wanna drive home in the rain"; "your place is closer to work anyways").

Eventually, they stop making excuses altogether after the night Eddie looks at Steve in the dim light of the trailer and simply murmurs, "I don't want you to go."

After that, most nights look something like this:

Eddie, wrapped around Steve with his chest to Steve's back, pressed together from head to toe, sharing warmth to fend off the broken limbs and cursed bats that haunt their nightmares.

Steve, running his fingers through Eddie's hair while they wait for sleep to take them - Steve on his back, and Eddie with his head resting on Steve's chest and an arm thrown across Steve's stomach, draped across him protectively.

Eddie, curling towards a trembling Steve after a nightmare, foreheads pressed together while Eddie uses gentle hands to wipe away the tears and murmurs soft comforts until the vice around Steve's lungs loosens its grip.

Steve, spooning Eddie from behind, his own knees tucked into the backs of Eddie's, his face buried in the warm juncture of Eddie's neck, and Eddie's soft curls brushing against Steve's cheeks.

It's just them - Eddie and Steve and Steve and Eddie - in the darkest hours, night after night. Sharing breaths and trading secrets and granting trust until one day, Steve wakes up to the feeling of Eddie's warm body against his own, and Eddie's soft breath on his skin, and he realizes that somewhere along the line, something changed.

Somewhere along the line, between nightmares and secrets and achingly gentle touches, Steve fell in love.

And, God, he's still falling.

Eddie wakes only moments later, rolling over beneath Steve's arm so they're no longer spooning, but facing each other, his big, brown eyes landing on Steve's to fix him with a sleepy smile. It's beautiful. Eddie is beautiful, and Steve can't believe he didn't see it before.

He grants Eddie a smile in return, along with a soft, raspy, "Hi."

Eddie's smile widens. "Hi."

Steve stares at him for a long moment, gaze lingering on Eddie's long lashes, on the freckles that dot Eddie's nose and cheeks, so close now that Steve could count them, if he wanted to. He thinks he probably will, one day. The look in Eddie's eyes is soft and open, and the unabashed love shining through them nearly knocks the air from Steve's lungs.

"Did you know?" Steve asks softly, brushing their noses together. "Did you know that I'm in love with you?"

Steve hears Eddie's breath catch. He watches Eddie's eyes widen. "No," Eddie breathes. "But I hoped. God, I fucking hoped."

Steve swallows as his entire body tingles with emotion. He's so happy he sort of wants to cry. He thinks he might, if Eddie keeps looking at him like that - like Steve is a goddamn miracle. "Yeah?" Steve whispers.

Eddie nods, a wobbly smile forming on his lips. "Yeah, Stevie. Don't know if I would've survived, if it was just me."

Steve can't help himself. He kisses Eddie's forehead, lets his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. "It's not just you, Eds. Promise."

And that morning, Steve Harrington learns yet another thing about Eddie Munson. He learns how Eddie kisses - like Steve is something beautiful. Precious. Worth taking care of. Like Eddie loves him, and Steve loves Eddie.

Steve learns how Eddie kisses, and he thinks it's probably his favorite thing he's learned yet.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

The Peter Pevensie post did well.

Here's Edmund.

Edmund has trouble putting down his chess pieces that first time. In Narnia he could assume his opponent knew what he was doing, that chess was not just a game, that sacrificing pieces meant a unit, an officer, a collection of friends never seen again.

No one remembers that back in England, where chess is just a game, not a play preparing you for war.

He loses badly the first few times, too often distracted by thoughts of his dead friends. Thoughts of the ones alive, that he hopes to see soon.

Then he becomes unbeatable. When chess is about strategy again, no longer conjures images of men dying, sacrificed to gain a tactical advantage, Edmund becomes a master. Chess champion, of his region, of the country. Not a piece too many suffers.

It takes a few months. Those first ones in boarding school, Peter has to guard him. When bullies gang up on him for his strange way of talking (as if generals listen to his advice), strange way of walking (as if there is a weight on his hip), strange way of behaving (as if there are servants for his every need) Peter protects him. They've seen protective brothers; they've never seen anything quite like Peter, who hits until bone breaks.

Edmund will often remark on how the punches thrown his way lack technique, don't really hurt.

Everyone wonders how a 110 lb 11 year old kid knows anything about punching technique. He's a scrawny white boy from the city, doesn't look even slightly dangerous. How many fights has he been in, everyone wonders, to know what type of blow breaks bone, how to collect fingers into a fist.

When he is not protected by his brother, he displays the tricks he learned in treacherous courts in fantasy lands where the men could snap him in half with half a finger, where monsters ruled. Where only his silver tongue kept him safe.

It keeps bullies far away from him. They're not just afraid of physical repercussions, but of being expelled, reputations ruined, careers unreachable before they begin.

Peter retaliates either way, physical punishment along with the other repercussions. Still, it's strange to hear that the lanky sleepwalking teen mostly interested in political science knows anything about fighting, about blood.

By the third month in boarding school, Edmund has the staff wrapped around his finger.

His tongue is as silver as the lion ring he wears. Ed can talk any opponent into submisson. He can talk any girl into his bed, too, despite other men vying for their company. Sometimes he does it just to prove a point. It earns him a few more fights than he had to be in, but that's okay.

The ones stupid, angry or brave enough to physically fight him learn fast Edmund isn't easy prey, that he knows how to fight, how to think, how to outmanouvre you. Peter is a tornado, all fury, but Ed fights like a chess master. No wasted movement, no unnecessary punches, not moving a single inch more than he has to.

Fighting Peter hurts. People soon find that fighting Ed discourages. He doesn't really seem all that hurt by fighting, often quips when taking a fist to the gut. He can deal blows so nasty you feel the effects two weeks after.

The ones that fight him in groups, still willing to try, meet Peter's fists in a dark ally.

Still Edmund never needed Peter. Their bond is strange, sure, Peter copying his younger brothers' notes without remark, asking for his advice often and seriously.

But both know politics is Edmund's territory. At the start, no one messes with him due to his big brother, who always seems to hit harder than boys his age.

In time, Ed is feared more. Differently.

A fight with the oldest Pevensie brother ends in the infirmary, a fight with the youngest ends your career, ambition, prospects with the ladies.

Edmund knows what he can do. Knows his brother can do it too, but does not prefer it. He is known for his silver tongue, his brilliant mind. Peter, more so for his steel boots.

He plays chess, studies politics, does it right. Highest marks in his class, many extra-curriculars, a seemingly unbreakable bond with his sisters and brother, which he visits often everyone. No one can understand them when they are together, a strange lilt in their voices. Some people are little scared of him. He's a debate champion, talks rounds around anyone. Excellent chef, even though he only cooks for friends.

He's loyal to a fault, clever like the devil, and a perfect gentleman. In an archaic way. Ed is the kind of man to have a hankerchief in his pocket.

That's why no one unserious dates Susan or Lucy. They all know anything unserious ends badly.

Gradually, people start to like Edmund, even if they feared him at first. His smile is devilish, but also charming. Ed is free in his head, in his hands. Brilliant in many different ways, including fencing. There is a rumour in the halls, after a while. That Ed likes men too.

But no one talks.

Edmund goes into politics. He has a family that is in the top echolon of decison making, an analytical mind. Edmund has a talent for justice. In his presence, no one feels left out, everybody is heard. Many feel that with Ed as their PM they are finally represented. A noble man, even with his bloody knuckles, the unimpressive surname.

A statesman in everything. Fashion, vocabulary, manners.

But still he believes in Narnia, goes to see the spectre.

He is facing his brother in the train, happy, talking about Narnia when it crashes.

[xxventiswindblumexx]

𓁹Let Me Breed You𓁹

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹─────��

-You help the Adaptus from dying in the snow and in return he wants to make you his mate-

Yandere!Xiao x afab reader

⚠Warnings⚠:Non-Con, force breeding, breeding kink, predator and prey dynamics, feral Xiao, injured Xiao, Blood, Yandere themes.

It was a cold morning in Liyue, snow scattered the ground of the region as most chose to stay home and enjoy the snow day, however you couldnt, you're a studying nurse who needed to test out some herbs and well these special herbs you're looking for only grow in the cold areas, so hoping to avoid a trip to Dragonspine with this newfound snow day you hoped to find the herb. The weather had turned for the worst, becoming even more bitter and cold, it made you feel like you were being eaten alive even if it wasn't all that bad. Just as you're about to give up your search you noticed something in the distance, squinting you realized it's... a person! They're laying in the snow, unmoving.

You quickly made your way to them to see it was the famous Adaptus Xiao, he was bloodied and unconscious.

Quickly you reached down to feel his neck, faint but he still had a pulse. So you used all your strength to pick up the Adeptus and carry him to your cabin nearby, tending to his wounds, luckily with him not being human he would heal rather fast with the help of your care.

After a few days of treatment and healing you had healed all of his injuries, thankfully not enough to leave permanent scars or be any trouble, but he will get better now, hopefully.

That's how it all started, how the lonely Adaptus Xiao found a new fascination, before now he didn't really have any relationships, any care for humans other then his usual duty to protect them. But then you came along and everything changed, you brought him joy when nothing else could. You helped him become what he wants and wanted is to find love again, he wants someone to take care of him, someone to treat his wounds and tell him everything will be okay. It's like there was never anything wrong with him, even when he didn't want to accept these feelings, he knew they where true.

Of course after a few months you suggested he should probably get back to his usual dutys now that he's healed but to come back occasionally to chat, it's true he was fine now but.. he didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be away for even a moment but complied for now, these strange feelings only becoming more complicated for the poor Adapti as he's trying to figure them out.

Obsession, a simple word that his once innocent love became, even with his duties he made time to watch over you, stalking from a distance and keeping himself hidden. He didn't know what to say to you, even with these feelings he was still very socially awkward so he opted to just watch for now.

But you never notice, no one did because he's very good at staying inconspicuous, and you never notice him because he can always blend into the background, especially when he needs to.

And thats how things continue, for a while, over a span of a year he would watch you become the nurse you wanted to be, getting your license. However that's a problem, you wanted to be a travelling nurse, he couldn't have you leaving, he already killed so many men who attempted to swoon you, sent you so many gifts that seemed strange for toy. Most being parts of the enemies he killed that day, to show he could fight for you, sometimes being food, to show he can provide for you and even once the head of a guy that was being overly flirty to you, to show he can protect you. However he never put who sent the presents, he assumed you would know, unknowingly you're freaking out from such strange gifts.

However now isn't the time for him to send gifts, he has to act. Though with his now clouded judgement and twisted thinking he learned humans don't generally leave partners if they have offsprings, he could do that, then you wouldn't leave, you couldn't.

So he decided a gentle approach first, appeared before your home for the first time in over a year since you parted ways, well as far as you knew. Of course not knowing he was responsible for all the strange occurrences around you, you where relieved to see him, even hugging him.

"Xiao! I'm so glad you're back!" You felt so protected with him around, afraid of the stalker you knew Xiao could protect you.

His face reddening some as he hesitated but held you close, almost not letting go. You let him in as you spoke, at first it was of simple things, about what has been up to what you been doing and so on. It seemed pleasant until he out of the blue tackled you to your futon, blushing hard as you looked up at him "X-Xiao whats-"

"Let me breed you"

a simple demand to him yet such a strong one for you, he just shows up after a year demanding such.. a huge thing.

"Xiao! Y-You can't just ask someone that-"

"Why? I've shown my love, I've shown my capabilities, just submit to me like a good mate won't you? " His eyes no longer held the same shy sweet look but rather an empty coldness you could only describe as pure lust. He was staring at you, waiting for you to respond to him. He looked hungry, almost predatory, yet you struggled against him, you even managed to push him off and run for the door, escaping out while he was confused at first but took it as a game of predator and prey, assuming you wanted him to catch you first.

He was soon chasing you outside your house with his mask on, you ran as fast as you could, you ended up hiding in a small cave area. Breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath, it was all so clear, he was the one doing all this, it made sense, he would be the only one able to pull it all off.

You needed to get help, to find someone, maybe even get Zhongli to hel-

"Found you" his voice spoke from behind you, before you could react he already had you pinned down onto the ground, panting from your sudden exertion. You couldn't move, you were stuck as much by fear as by his hold on you. "Xiao please-"

"Please what?" His eyes held no warmth anymore as he leaned in to whisper "Will you agree to let me mate you? To make us one forever?"

You shook your head as your heart sank to the ground, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from your fear. "No."

He froze for a moment before, he looked hurt for a second but brushed it aside. "Don't worry, you'll learn to love me as I am eventually, right?" His eyes held a cold look yet he didn't need your response, he would make you love him.

He held your wrists above your head with one hand as he kissed you harshly, his lips where cold as his other hand felt your clothes body, as if to admire how well you looked in your outfit before ripping it from you. You screamed as he did so, unable to stop yourself as his lips moved to attack your exposed body, biting and kissing every part of your body as you writhed against him, he gripped you harder and rougher each second as he devoured you with his mouth and teeth. You soon felt two of his fingers shove themselves into your hole, stretching and preparing you, you closed your eyes and cried out in pain as you felt his finger stretch inside of you. A loud cry left your mouth as you felt the pain, your eyes wide open as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.

Suddenly he pulled out, leaving you gasping as the feeling of emptiness began to take over your whole body. You hated how your body betrayed you so, reacting to his touches like this. Before long you felt his cock slam into you, forcing himself further inside you making sure to keep most of his weight against you to keep you from wiggling away. Soon you saw stars as he slammed into you, his thrusts never failing to push himself as deep as he could, letting out animalistic growls as held you close to him, feeling his breath hitch some, his cock twitching inside as he continues his harsh pace. The next sound you heard was your own scream as his cum filled your womb and poured over your sensitive opening and out your body, coating you both in sticky white fluid and the smell was sickeningly sweet. As his cum dripped down you felt so tired, so exhausted. Barely able to keep your eyes open as he looked down at you, seemingly proud of the mess he made of you. "this will do nicely, there shouldn't be any reason you wouldn't bare my offspring" laying along side you on the cold ground, huddling you close to him. "I promise you I will always protect you and give you everything you crave" as he nuzzled your neck before finally falling asleep in your arms.

You remained silent as you felt your consciousness slip, the last thing you saw before you succumbed to sleep was the warm body next to yours holding you close as his breathing calmed and eventually slowed down until it turned quiet.

[wingsofachampion]

OOC

I'm going to preface this by saying that I'm not mad at anyone. I love the Pokemon IRL community, and I'm so so happy to be a part of it. And I don't plan on leaving for good anytime soon.

But. Look.

This is getting out of hand.

I've been here since November of 2022, and I haven't seen things being this bad in the community since The Incident.

I'm trying as hard as I can to hold things together, even when it seems like everything's falling apart. But it's getting really exhausting.

So that's why I'm making this post.

There's a lot of problems happening in this community, and I'm going to try to address at least a few of them in this post.

So, here we go.

Part 1: Anon Hate & Other Harassment

There's unfortunately a lot of this in the community. I've been a victim of it myself.

Anon hate is a serious problem that has led several pokebloggers to completely disable anon asks or even leave the community entirely.

I'm not sure how to combat this, unfortunately, other than blocking them as they come, but that's an imperfect solution.

There's also been direct harassment, too, not just through anon asks. I'm unsure how to tackle that either, but I'm spreading awareness just in case.

Part 2: Lack of Engagement

There's a ton of blogs that get little to no engagement, and not for a lack of trying. Pixelated made a great post on this already, so I won't rehash it much.

My main advice is to send asks. That goes both ways. If you see someone struggling to get engagement, send them an ask, brighten their day!

And if you're struggling to get engagement, send asks to as many blogs as you feel comfortable. That way, you put your name out there.

I know it can be scary to send asks, but if it helps, you can send one to me! I won't bite!

Part 3: "Cliques"

There's a lot of subcommunities in the Pokemon IRL community. Eebydeebies, Fallers, Blueberry Academy, and so on. And that's great! What's not so great, though, is how some of these can be rather cliquey.

Sometimes, it's hard to join a subcommunity. Sometimes they push you away, are just difficult to fit in a new blog, or something else.

I've been trying to remedy this in the eebydeeby subcommunity by having Gen send asks to every new eeby blog I can find, but I'm not in every subcommunity, so I can't do this for all of them.

What I suggest to remedy this is, those in subcommunities, reach out! If you see someone trying to join, reach out and welcome them in! Send them asks! Tell other people in the subcommunity about them! Let them know that they're welcome there.

Part 4: Lack of Warnings During MMM

This one is something that mostly just affects me personally, but Muse Mixup Madness has been extremely stressful for me because people keep completely changing up their blogs with little to no warning.

One of my worst triggers is post-apocalypse, and I've been jumpscared by this several times during Muse Mixup Madness by blogs that were previously safe.

Please warn what your Muse Mixup Madness stuff will contain, and please use content warnings, too.

Part 5: New Blogs Dying

This is one of the ones I'm saddest about. Almost every day, there's at least one new person trying to join Pokemon IRL, but 75% of the time their blog dies within a week.

I recommend supporting newcomers as much as you can. If you see a newcomer, send them an ask! Interact with them! Boost them if you feel comfortable with it! Don't let them feel so discouraged that they leave so soon.

I recommend checking the reblogs on realpokemon's pinned post every so often. It's a fantastic way to find new blogs.

Part 6: Exhaustion & A Call for Help

I've been trying very very hard to fix things, but I'm only human (as much as I wish I was a Meganium). I can't do everything by myself.

So I'm asking for help.

I have two blogs primarily made for boosting. @pkmnirlblogboosting and @tacklrnews. Former is OOC, while the latter is IC.

Pkmnirlblogboosting is for boosting blogs that either have less than 75 followers, or are less than a month old. If anyone wants to help me run it and boost blogs, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to pkmnirlblogboosting.

Tacklrnews is for reporting on events that are happening in-character. Its primary purpose is to boost stuff happening on people's blogs that they want more people to see and interact with. If anyone wants to help me with this, feel free to send me a message asking if you can be added to tacklrnews.

A caveat with tacklrnews: It's fully in-character, so you'll need to create a character for it to be a part of Pelipper's little news agency. It also writes articles on Pokemon RPC and Pokeask blogs, so to people in those communities, this offer is open to you all, too.

I hope these will both be helpful in revitalizing the Pokemon IRL community.

Part 7: Moving Forward

So, how do we move forward?

I think we should be more supportive towards others in this community. Less OOC anon hate and harassment, more engagement and boosting. Tell your fellow blogrunners how much you appreciate their blogs! Let them know they have people who care about them.

I love this community so, so much. I don't want it to fall apart and die. I'm doing everything in my power to keep it standing, but I'm just one person. I need your help, too.

Together, we can make this community better.

That's about all I had to say.

If you've read this far, thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to read through this.

I'd appreciate any reblogs to spread this around, but don't feel pressured to if you don't want to.

I hope you all have a wonderful Pride Month.

-Bench

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[reginamillls]

💗 + buddietommy beloved?? 🥺💖

Maybe it was the almost dying part that sped run the confession, but laying here now in a bed that was almost too small, Eddie likes to believe that it was inevitable, that they were always meant to be here.

He's the most mobile of the three, his injuries the lightest and so Eddie is the one who is up to get pain pills when the alarm goes off. It's an easy trek to Tommy's kitchen, his home was all on one floor as well, easily accessable to anyone.

It's easily accesable to Chris.

The thought warms Eddie as he carefully grabs some water bottles. His bruised ribs didn't allow for much reach, and when Bobby had set them up for the week he made sure that everything would be easy.

On his way back to the bedroom, Eddie passes Tommy's cat who blinks up at him from her perch on the couch and he strokes her soft fur, enticing purrs.

"I'm taking care of him, Amelia," Eddie promises lightly. Amelia blinks at him with her big blue eyes and Eddie scratches beneath her chin. "I love them you know." She blinks at him and Eddie likes to think she understands that he means every word.

Eddie moves on into the bedroom and stops in the doorway to just look at the two men in the bed. Buck is tucked intowards Tommy, his legs tangled with the other's. His posture is careful, positioned in a way not to aggrivate his injuries. His breathing is even, something that is welcomed after hearing it rattle only a few days prior.

Next to Buck in the middle, Tommy is awake.

He looks over at Eddie, eyes softening when he sees Eddie in the doorway and the tense line of his shoulders relax some.

"You weren't here when I woke up," Tommy mumbles as Eddie gets closer. "I was worried-"

"I meant what I said back then," Eddie says. "You both make it out of there, and I won't let either of you go-" Eddie sits on the bed and grabs Tommy's hand in his own and squeezes it. "We're all here."

"Yeah-" Tommy croaks and Eddie opens one of the waterbottles and holds it to his lips, helping him to drink it carefully. When he isn't so parched, Eddie helps Tommy take one of his pain pills as well.

"Thanks," Tommy says, eyes shinning as he looks at Eddie. Buck had mentioned before how Tommy's gaze could be intense, and Eddie feels the weight of it now, but it isn't unwanted.

"Do the thing-" Eddie hears Buck mumble and he looks over to see Buck blinking awake with a small smile on his face.

"The thing?" Eddie asks, curious. Tommy is smiling now and Eddie feels two fingers tuck beneath his chin.

The kiss is gentle.

It still takes Eddie's breath away.

When Tommy parts he looks shy and behind him Buck is beaming, bright and happy with this developement. They had talked about it, back in the accident and then again in the hospital, about what this could mean for all three of them.

A part of Eddie just thought it would stay there, in empty promises said in the heat of the moment.

"My turn-" Eddie hears and before he realizes it, Buck is kissing him then, just as gentle as Tommy but a little different.

"You two are beautiful," Tommy says when they part. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Almost dying wasn't part of it," Buck says, eyes narrowed and Tommy sighs. "Seriously, you're not allowed to do that again Tommy."

"I'd do it again if it meant the both of you lived," Tommy retorts but the argument dies there. They've already dished most of this out at the hospital.

"I love both of you," Tommy adds softer and Buck seems to melt at that and goes to kiss Tommy this time and Eddie can't help but thing that the two of them were beautiful together as well.

"Let's just try and stay alive," Eddie moves closer so that he could grab both Buck and Tommy's hands. He feels more grounded here then he has in months, in this bed that barely fits the three of them.

"We should get a bigger bed," Buck says once they're all settled carefully into a cuddle again. "None of us are exactly small here."

"I'll look up some Alaskan kings," Tommy says. "Eddie what's your favorite color-" Tommy starts as he pulls out his phone, including Eddie immedietly into the conversation and Eddie lets the feeling of warmth wash over him from both Buck and Tommy's attention and love.

[eyecandyandbraincandy-blog]

Society for the last five years (and counting)

Public health: Hey, so we're tracking this new trend of ovens possibly burning people. It seems bad, we're gonna need more data.

Scientists: On it, we're gonna learn about the oven and what causes burns.

Government: Okay, here's what they're saying about ovens and how not to get burned. Let's shut everything down until this burning passes and then we can go back to normal.

Libs: YES! You can do your part and flatten the curve so we can reduce the amount of burns!

Conservatives: I'm sticking my head in the oven. Y'all don't own me, you libtards! Even if the oven can burn you, I'm wearing this super special glove.

Scientists: That glove is for checking horse prostates. Don't do that.

Government: Actually, if you inject yourself with gasoline, you'll clean that risk of burns right out of your skin.

Scientists: Don't. Do. That.

Libs: We trust science! We care about people! They don't! Let's stay strong, people!

*months later*

Corporations: Hey, so, our profits-

Government: Say no more, fam. We got this. PUT YOUR GRANDMA IN THE OVEN FOR THE ECONOMY.

Libs: Look how callous they are! We're the good ones.

Public health: Actually, needing to be careful when operating ovens has been SO hard on the American people. You can use the ovens without mittens for a bit as a break.

*a year of rolling back measures*

Corporations: BUT MUH PROFITS

Government: Okay, y'all. This is cute, but go back to work. Tell them to go back to work. Public emergency's over.

Public health: Look, some people are gonna get burned using the oven. Mitts are cute but it's really about your personal risk tolerance. So just let those people get burned, they'll die off and we'll be good as new.

Science: Actually don't do that. Our data's clear, here's all the ways to get burned and here's how serious those consequences can be. Wear oven mitts. But we have this vaccine now and it WILL HELP. But we're not sure what the efficacy is yet. So let's be cautious until we have more data.

Public health: You hear that? Vaccines. Yummy, get them so we can be done with this!

Conservatives: God damn it, they're all tryna give us the pokey-jabby-stabby to try and convince us the earth is ROUND, to be liberal femboy sissies and get gay autistic married transes. FAUCI PLANDEMIC HOAX KILLARY CLINTON AND SLEEPY JOE. DON'T DO IT.

Libs: We trust the science! We're gonna get the jabby pokey stab and then we're done! No more mitts.

Science: Well, actually-

Libs: SEE WE'RE DONE! All vaxxed and relaxed. We trusted the science and now it's over! Back to normal! I've been DYING to do some baking. My mental health was so terrible when we couldn't use the ovens!

People following the science who don't want to get burned: Hey, I actually really liked baking too. But I can't really do it safely since there's not oven mitts anywhere and now people are just cooking with flamethrowers. That's not really safe.

Society: BUT OUR MENTAL HEALTH WAS TERRIBLE WHEN OVENGATE WAS HAPPENING AND WE WANT TO BAKE. IF YOU'RE SO FREAKED OUT THEN STOP BAKING FOREVER AND STAY HOME.

People following the science: But you just said the isolation was bad for mental heal-

Society: YEAH MY MENTAL HEALTH. MY PERSONAL RISK. MY BODY MY CHOICE I TRUSTED THE SCIENCE.

Government and corporations: Excellent.

*A few years later*

Society: New mystery burns are popping up here and there and they seem to revolve around a kitchen???? What's going on???

Government: It's nothing, shut the fuck up and go back to work. We beat the ovens.

Society: Okay!

Science: Actually, the vaccine DOES significantly reduce the likelihood that the burns will kill you, but you can still get burned, others can get burned, and you can still have long term health-

Public "health": No, yeah, it's nothing. Some people are gonna get burned. And that's bad, but also like inevitable? Make sure you wash your face before operating an oven.

Libs: It's all about personal risk tolerance. I'm not going to live in fear with oven mitts anymore! I NEED TO BAKE.

*months later*

Society: Why's everyone getting burns constantly?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

[i-heart-hxh]

I just want to say I appreciate you for staying positive about killugon. Admittedly, I’ve given up on them. Maybe it’s too many angsty fanfics or metas I’ve seen that basically make it seem like they’ll never be close again but it’s nice to see some people still going strong with this ship! Hopefully one day I can enjoy this ship again the way I used to. Currently everything I read about them in fandom just depresses me.

Hi anon!

I'm sad to hear the negativity has gotten to you to this degree! It actually surprises me how much the fandom seems to think what happened between them can't be fixed. I've been into HxH for almost 8 years now and as time has gone on and I've revisited the series and analyzed it deeply and discussed it with others, I've only grown more certain that things between them will be okay--assuming Togashi can reach that point in the series. And right now is a great time to be hopeful about the future of HxH, with Togashi working so actively on the series the past few months.

Sooo many of the messages in my inbox amount to "Is there really hope? Are Gon and Killua really going to reunite and reconcile? Or is their relationship hopelessly broken?" so even though I feel like a bit of a broken record addressing this topic so much, it seems like it's a topic people really want addressed, so here's some more of my thoughts. (Trying to make my answers on this topic at least a little different each time even if some repetition is inevitable...!)

Here's this post I made of some of the reasons I anticipate a Gon and Killua reunion and fixing their relationship. And here's this eye-opening analysis post of the separation, yet again, which also offers hope.

So much of HxH is about second chances. It's about how love and human connections transform people and make life worth living, no matter how painful and difficult it may be. At the end of Chimera Ant Arc, Meruem and Komugi (who are, by the way, absolutely parallels for Gon and Killua) find their meaning for living in each other, and decide to stay together even knowing the only way they can be together is in the afterlife. If you trace back this scene to all the factors and character moments that made it possible, it goes all the way back to Gon extending kindness to Killua and changing his life. I believe Gon and Killua are on a path wherein they will ultimately find their meaning in each other and vow to stay together again (albeit without the dying part).

Gon and Killua are the protagonists of the series, and they are emblematic of the themes of HxH. Looking at the themes of HxH and the worldview it presents, it doesn't make sense for Gon and Killua to experience this horrible traumatic incident as the young teens they are, then never ever get to fix and resolve it even though they're both clearly upset to have to leave each other and they definitely have more to say to each other. Why show them feeling dissatisfied and unhappy to separate if they'll never get a chance to fix things and be happy together again? Do you really think that's the direction Togashi wants to go in, with the focus of the series and the repeated emphasis on how the hope we can find in a cruel, painful world rests in the connections we have with the people around us?

It's meaningful that they make each other so happy and transformed each others' lives. It's meaningful that even now in merch and artwork and such, they're portrayed as a pair. It's meaningful that a huge chunk of the audience so desperately wants to see them together again, and I'm certain Togashi is well aware of that. These two are at the heart of what makes HxH so wonderful and moving.

It's okay to take a break from the ship if it's not bringing you joy. Sometimes I get frustrated by takes and interpretations I see about it, too, trust me. Ultimately, it's here for you whenever you want to revisit it, and there are plenty of fanworks with happy endings and reconciliation between them if you need something to tide you over until canon hopefully resolves things between them. But do what feels right for yourself--it's okay to focus on something fluffier and less complex if that's what you need for now. I hope eventually you can come to see it with more hope, as I have lots of hope for their future--and I don't think it's unwarranted at all. 💖

[lychgate]

Echo brain comic?? My beloved?

this one's pretty new and id like to in the least get some segments drawn up if i can

i went balls deep in depth about my personal ideas of Echo's structure and how it works, it has much more writing rn then art lemme get some snippets:

tech and echo begin digging around in his wiring as echo's health has lately began to decline rapidly. Blood transfusions are becoming daily, exhaustion occurs much quicker, and newest to the issues are these seemingly random seizures. They've attempted many outside options at remedying the problem but it was becoming urgently clear that the only way to get answers would be to open up his system and understand exactly how his body operates from the inside out. Echo is mostly on edge because he fears finding the answer that is he's just doomed to die soon, and that his body was in no way sustainable outside of that fridge. He fears the idea of dying so much that he has manic considerations of being put back in some sort of stasis chamber. Death, which he never feared prior to the citadel, but now he's come to be you know uhhh quite traumatized from it. But he also hates the idea of that fridge!! caught between two terrible options, wowie here ill add some more breakdown of that in a read more if anyone is interested in paragraphs of bullshit:

as for a brief descriptor on the shit on his head and body, from this paragraph:

Tech: these rivets across your skull are not simple ports one can just plug into. They're a very unique structure, containing an extremely delicate, but long system of thin metallic fibers wiring throughout your brain. These 'rivets' then act as anchors to those metal fibers, which then respond to very specific electric signals that we can access at the nodes on the surface here. If the signals sent are not exact. Well. Echo: yeah I get it I get it.

and some write up on how Tech begins to diagnose the problem:

Eventually Tech will find his way into deeper functions of the brain, finding shortcuts that were already developed by the Techno Union scientists for the sake of their own equipment likely. Categorized sections for monitoring all sorts of chemicals and levels within Echo's body, most of which were left on an automatic function to regulate.

Tech begins to understand that the key issue is that this program, and these automatic functions, were fitted for exactly the stasis chamber Echo had been put in, and if they want to begin fixing Echos phsyical body, he would have to start going in and coding line for line, functions that pertain to the body on a sustainability outside that fridge. Some functions were completely turned off, being that Echo was getting fed certain synthesized chemicals thru the machine, his brain had to be telling itself NOT to produce said things naturally.

But it's all very finicky work that requires continuous maintenance and updates, not much unlike a patch update to any other computer program, except this is Echo's life. It's an impossible amount of code to do in any short time frame, and so Tech will begin splicing lines of code from similar organic droids with systems of similar complexity.

They handle these sessions once per week, giving time for Echo's body to catch up and adjust. At first he begins feeling some nausea, his heart rate starts rising, but he insists something feels good about it and urges Tech to keep going. Echo begins to feel warmth back in his body, his mood increases, after about a month hair begins to grow again, muscle mass fills in what once was skeletal limbs, nail beds regain a lively shine. Besides a few errors in updates like over producing a chemical or small bouts of insomnia, everything seems On Course.

and then:

So now we get into the meat of the drama, which is a lot of Echo mania and identity issues:

By this point Tech has outfitted much easier screw on parts so they can go in and out of this program faster (the set up previously was hours of work) so pulling that up he theorizes that he will have to do more then just reverse programs that the Techno Union set up. Tech now believes he'll have to create NEW systems, as the old program appears to be getting corrupted from all of Tech's editing. The seizures are, at this point to their best guess, coming from this. That parts of his brain are literally crashing, and soon he's going to start having more serious issues like bro is gonna just have a massive stroke at some point. Tech points that out all regular voice and Echo is just 'great im back in the mental swamp' Now that Echo's learned that he has corrupted files eating away at his brain, and that the chance of having a massive stroke is like inevitable, he's back to feeling like anxious shit. It doesn't help that this will take Tech a lot of time to figure out. Truthfully he's putting as much effort as he can into it, but this is when Echo begins to get Really mentally unwell. He's both worrying and also trying NOT to worry out of fear that it's going to complicate the program even more. Echo begins to have identity issues, coming to rely more on the mechanics then the organics that make him. He doesn't feel like a human with robot parts anymore, he feels like a robot with human parts.

and it keeps going like there's parts where echo is begging Tech to up programs on dopamine generation and Tech has to turn him down cause that would just be creating an addiction problem, situations where Echo starts trying to mess with his own brain, situations where he tries to kill Tech, its a lot of rambling but im not a writer, like i can't write for shit and I'd like to try and draw it instead

[deconstructthesoup]

Okay, I had thoughts on forming a legit DBD Hadestown AU, and seeing as they kept me up literally all last night, it seemed only fitting that I actually write them down. So:

Charles and Edwin are, obviously, Orpheus and Eurydice respectively. However, rather than having just met and falling into a whirlwind romance, I decided that they're childhood friends who've met again and rediscovered feelings that they'd both been ignoring for a long time. Edwin is dedicated soley to figuring out why the world is dying and if he can help people while he can, and he hasn't really let himself rest, or even feel happy, in years---to the point where he feels that any good thing is too good to be true, even falling in love. Charles, on the other hand, has long since made the decision that someone has to be happy and keep spirits up in the trying times, and it might as well be him... even at the cost of his own health, as he works tirelessly on a song that he knows, despite all logic and understanding, will bring back spring again.

Crystal is Hermes, but she is also Hecate---she is the goddess of the in-between, magic, trickery, the crossroads, and restless souls... and that last part refers not only to the dead that she guides to Hadestown, but to anyone who chooses a life of wandering the road, from the honest messenger to the thieving highwayman. And yet, since the world has begun to die, she's been slowly slipping away from her role, choosing to spend her time among the mortals. This decision, of course, is helped by the fact that not only is Crystal one of the few gods who thinks there's more to the world dying than it just being "a reflection of mortal hubris," but that she's managed to make a friend in Charles. She's seen the way that music can change the world, after all, and knowing that there's at least one mortal who still has hope means that she can still believe.

Niko is a combination of Aphrodite and Dionysus---she's the goddess of love, revelries, happiness, and abundance, yes, but she's also the goddess of the mania that comes when all of those things are taken too far, and she's been dipping more and more into that side of herself as the world gets worse and worse. She wants to forget all the pain and suffering, and she gives herself and others the means to do so, even if it's all temporary. And while Niko does care for the mortals, and wishes that things could get better... deep down, she's lost a lot of her old hope, and even she can't disguise the fact that she's living with a broken heart.

Monty is Persephone, but he's also Apollo---he's the god of rebirth, prophecies, the stars and the earth, and new beginnings... and for what should be half of the year, he rules over the dead. He used to find just as much joy in watching over the souls as he did creating spring with Niko and charting the stars to bring prophecies to the mortals, but as Hadestown gets more punishing, more people die up above, and the world just gets worse, Monty grows even more bitter and closed off. He's unable to even properly enjoy his time on the surface, knowing full well that he won't stay for six months like he should... and the man he loves is wearing his patience thin.

The Cat King is Hades---and yes, somebody did make a very compelling argument for him being the Fates, but it works for the story, so just hang on. Once upon a time, he was happy just ruling over souls and managing the afterlife, and he cherished the time he spent with Monty as much as he could. But over time, wealth became added to his already vast domain, and his fascination for making and collecting things became an obsession... in no small part due to the fact that those six months spent away from Monty started to weigh incredibly heavy on him, and he eventually loses himself in his effort to replicate everything his husband loves about the upper world as it dies along with the way they used to feel about each other. Not to mention, his old empathy and compassion for the souls has hardened into cold indifference at best and a sick enjoyment of their suffering at worst. And all this change is making one person in particular very happy...

Esther is the Fates, but she's also a version of Demeter---the goddess of nature and all of its love and cruelties, and the one who spins everyone's path on her loom, punishing those who dare to stray from what she has determined for them. She's despised the Cat King for years, ever since he whisked Monty away to Hadestown, and she wholeheartedly believes that the reason the world is dying is only because he's been keeping Monty down there for too long, not because they've begun to fall out of love. So, when Esther spins a tale of a pair of lovers who are destined to end tragically, she sees it as an opportunity to finally push the Cat King and Monty to the breaking point---to save her son and the world, she tells herself, but mostly for revenge.

[enigmatist17]

Dot was not expecting to come home to an ambulance in her driveway during a quick break mid-shift, the car tucked just out of view of the main road. The ranger hopped out of her truck and approached it, clearing her throat while crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have about twenty minutes before I need to return to work, so talk to me now or wait for me to return." There was a moment, before the familiar sound of a Transformer shifting to its root mode filled the air, the ambulance standing a fair height above the human. "Welcome."

"Apologies, wasn't expectin' to get in so early." The mech had a gruff voice as they knelt down, extending a servo. "Name's Ratchet, don't think we had the pleasure of meetin' on the field."

"Dot Malto, I've heard of you." The ranger relaxed a little as she rested a hand on his palm in greeting. "Heavens know how many stories I've heard from Wheeljack and Bumblebee."

"Wheeljack is here?" Ratchet seemed a little surprised as he pulled his limb back, standing with a slight grunt. "That is...nice to hear. Haven't seen much of anyone these days, not with G.H.O.S.T tryin' to hunt us down, or had been anyways."

"Trust me, that's not something you need to worry about anymore." Dot sighed, glancing up at him. "I'm assuming you're here about what happened a few weeks ago?"

"Among other things." His optics dimmed for a moment at the memory of dying so suddenly, only to be revived with the knowledge that something had ripped his Spark from him for just shy of fifteen minutes. It hadn't taken him long to wrangle coordinates from Bumblebee once the initial panic had subsided, knowing Prime wouldn't be too far from the scout, and would hold the answer about what the frag had happened.

Ratchet wasn't scared of many things, but that had rattled his processor to the core.

"Well, I can start by introducing you to the kids, they're going to love meeting one of the "super ultra famous" Autobots." Dot smiled sympathetically, pointing toward a barn further into the premises.

"Strange, most humans don't let their sparklings live outside their home." Ratchet raised an optic ridge, motioning for her to step forward and trailing behind the ranger.

"Oh, my kids do live in the house; these are where my other kids live, the ones who don't quite fit." This had the medic further intrigued, Dot opening the door and whistling down the open large grate in a far corner. "Hey kids, why don't you come on up and say hello to someone!"

Ratchet felt his Spark nearly stop again when he was suddenly bombarded with five wide-open EMF fields, brimming with emotions so openly it almost made him fall to his knees.

No, no, this can't be what he thinks it is.

The first mech to come up from the underground area was so small Ratchet nearly thought they were a Minicon, the little femme zipping up into the air with an excited sqeual.

"Ohmigosh omigosh it's Ratchet!" The medic barely had time to register what she was saying before a blue and white mech ran up into view, his eyes wide.

"Mom, how come you didn't tell us he was coming!" Ratchet looked down helplessly at Dot, who just smiled and shrugged as three more sets of pedes hurried up from the underground area.

"I didn't know, sweetheart." Ratchet remained silent as what looked like a Dinobot, a lanky bot with glowing eyes reminiscent of an owl, and the tallest of the set, sporting a grin and thrumming with a particularly powerful EMF, gathered around him with overlapping questions.

Sparklings....honest to Primus sparklings were around him, a sight Ratchet never thought would come to pass.

"W-When were you all created?" The question nearly gets lost in the din, but Dot silences the bots by merely crossing her arms.

"A few months ago, when Mo and Robbie found the Emberstone and helped make us!" The petite femme smiled, hovering within his sight. as Ratchet stared.

"I see." Ratchet smiled as he knelt down, reaching into his subspace to pull out some tools, along with five glowing purple sticks. "Well, I'm going to assume you've never had a proper medic give you an exam, so I'd like to start with that."

"Do we have to?" The tall femme whined, eyeing Ratchet in slight discomfort. "Robbie and Mo hate the doctor, they say it's kinda scary sometimes."

"I assure you this won't hurt a bit, I've been doing this a very long time." Ratchet held out the sticks to the children. "Why don't you give me your names, and we'll go one at a time. Lieutenant Malto, you're more than welcome to observe."

"Just call me Dot, and I might do that for the first kiddo before I get back to work." Nodding, the medic finally pulled out a scanner before motioning for the bot closest to him. "You're up, come on."

"I'm Jawbreaker." Ratchet scanned him with what he hoped was a gentle smile, the young bot nervous yet curious.

"It's nice to meet you, Jawbreaker; like you heard, I'm Ratchet." The older bot frowned at the readings on his scanner before his optics went wide in alarm. Jawbreaker smiled nervously when Ratchet leaned forward with his scanner again, the readings the same as the first scan. "How are you operating?! I've never seen energon levels this low!"

"Oh that's 'cause we don't need energon, w-we drink magic cave water?" The small dinobot smiled, Ratchet just staring at the youngling before a trilling noise escaped him, unable to vocalize any response as he merely pressed one of the purple sticks into Jawbreaker's servos.

"Off you go." Dot looked amused and concerned at Ratchet's silence, Nightshade moved forward to take Jawbreaker's spot. He's just finishing up with Twitch when there's the familiar roar of Bumblebee's engine, the bot transforming the second he was close enough to the house, whistling a tune as he headed for the barn.

"Oh kids, I brought a surpi- Ratchet?!" The scout froze before throwing himself to the side, narrowly missing the wrench thrown at him.

"You SLAGGING PIT SPAWN!" The medic nailed him right to the face with a second wrench, stomping over to the stunned bot with a hiss. "You have been with SPARKLINGS and didn't think to CALL ME?!"

"W-Wait, I thought you knew!" Bumblebee winced as Ratchet stood over him, optics flashing in irritation. "I've been uncover with them, a-and Optimus would have told you, right?"

"Oh ho ho don't you dare try and distract me, although he will answer me later." The medic sneered, before letting out a long vent and offering a servo. "It's good to see you, kid."

"...it's great to see you too, I didn't know you were even on Earth." Ratchet easily pulled Bumblebee up onto his pedes, grumbling lightly when he was yanked into a hug. "I have missed you, though I didn't miss your wrench sharpshooting skills..."

"Comes with the package." The older bot smirked, the five younglings watching the two from their spot by the barn with wide optics. "They're in good health, despite not being properly checked over by a professional."

"I tried my best?" Bumblebee grinned, doorwings fluttering in delight at the backhanded praise. "Ratchet, why are you here?"

"I want to know what happened a few mega-cycles ago."

"Oh...right." The scout glanced toward the younger bots, offering a servo when Twitch rubbed one of her arms with a guilty look. "Who wants a hug?"

"We do!" Ratchet stepped back to allow the five young- terrans all but tackle Bumblebee with a group hug, his spark practically melting at the sight.

"Can we hug you too, Mr. Ratchet?" Hashtag asked, the older bot chuckling as he placed his data pad in his subspace.

"I suppose I could agree to that." It was Bumblebee's turn to laugh when one of his mentors was suddenly besieged by five eager terrans, sending him to the ground with an amused look, reminding the younger bot of times long past. Ratchet would find himself agreeing to spend the night later on in the day, unable to say no to the puppy-eyed optics that Thrash and Hashtag wielded with deadly accuracy, as well as Bumblebee's not-so-silent pleas for adult interaction of the Cybertronian kind. Spending an entire evening catching up and talking about just about every topic either bot could bring up was...nice, and Ratchet decides the moment when the scout drifts off to recharge that it might be a good idea to stick around for a little while.

Optimus was going to get one hell of a lecture first, however.

[yapperina]

prisoner sylus x queen reader, spoilers for all myths, anecdotes and basically everything, canon treated very loosely, no beta we die

cw: heavy-ish topics discussed, some blood, mostly G-rated

For a while, it almost seems like the promise of hope come spring held some actual merit – which was never a guarantee with Xavier, you learned – and you spend your days restless, chest strangely tight, while the world rights itself around you. Putting the crown on your head is so easy it's uncanny, restoring the Order is easier still.

So many are eager to bend the knee for the new Queen, with a promise of a future finally in reach.

Then the harvest fails, and another. The floods come further north. Rivers slow down to a trickle in the south afterwards and the tech gives out everywhere at once.

It starts so slow and spreads even slower, each century worse than the one before, time molasses-thick on your tongue. No one can name the reason, but sometimes you think you can hear it. Philos, hollowed-out and hungry, calling out for you at the edge of hearing. String pulled taut from the Forest to the center of your chest.

You wonder if you actually left it at all. If it's one empty thing reaching for the other, finding it's match after having a taste.

Were you saved, in the end, or was it another of his lies?

Centuries blur the edges of your memories, chipping them off little by little and when you return to them, almost nothing is left and of you, too.

Your people are dying.

There're very few places left to feel safe, now, whole villages up and leaving to try and squeeze into whatever cities are still standing under protection of the Lightseekers' Order, but it's not enough and the crown feels more like a set of shackles with every passing day, pulling you down.

No one even looks at the stars anymore, for there's no one coming to save you, the promise you carry with yourself for centuries without believing in it tasting like ash, and your people are dying, so you might just as well–

You almost miss the arrival of the starship. A guard bursts into your sitting room early in the morning – Antony, or something, too young to actually justify the familiarity, but you're so tired lately, too tired to care – and his voice cracks halfway through the sentence:

"A ship, your Majesty! A ship landed north of the city!"

You startle, fingers curving into loose fists atop your desk, the hollow of your chest filling momentarily with a vicious hungry ache that almost feels like hope, but,

"They say they're envoys from the neighboring system and have a proposal to discuss, we, uh," the boy, the guard – or was it not Antony but Xander? Surely you'd be able to remember – wilts as you stare at him, motionless. "We promised them to arrange an audience with you. Surely we can?.."

An audience it is.

—

People do not just visit Philos. You recall it faintly, the time before: interstellar travels and Lightseekers' expeditions, prosperity and abundance built carelessly on top of the rotting core – figuratively and literally – when there were no hungry children on the streets. Wanderers, for the common people, were the horror story they didn't have to face if they just chose so. The sweetness of this memory makes your teeth ache.

Now you're just a small, forgotten world, fading quietly on the outskirts of the universe, forever grounded. There's no place for aimless wonder when you're almost dead. Apparently, this is exactly what the visitors are looking for.

You hear them in the throne room, high on the dais, exchanging pleasantries half-heartedly. Whatever it is they want – you'll give them, and everyone in the room knows it, but keeping up pretenses is still nice. The envoys talk insistently of a great debt it will put them in, gold and silk and treasures offered freely, but you ask for grain and cattle and simple tools and your face doesn't betray your feelings, but it's a close call.

Such a small favour, really, for months and months you'd keep you men going, on time for once borrowed from someone else. You listen to the tale of his crimes, unending – he seems more like a monster from a bedtime story, really, whole fleets overtaken, regiments crushed under the heel of his boot – more blood spilled than even you've lost, with your world turning to dust. But last night you had to watch a father being prosecuted, who stolen to feed his children, and you don't think if this Sylus is really a murderer will make a difference.

The crowd in the plaza is cheering when they bring him out – more for the grain and steel than for a crime being punished, presumably, but even if not, you cannot begrudge them that. Excuses for celebration are few and far between, were for years, and the white noise of it somewhat settles the dread in your stomach.

In the end, you almost overlook him. Guards from the ship are crowded tightly around the man, chained and collared and absolutely filthy, blood matted into the shock of his white hair, as they shove and drag him past the walkway to the palace. The image makes you queasy, eyes sliding off to pass the people on the street below, the cracking cobblestone, the dried-up fountains. There's a split moment when you contemplate leaving altogether, disturbed for some unfathomable reason, but you unlearned listening to your gut a long time ago.

When you look up again his eyes are on you.

You wondered briefly, dismissively, while the envoys listed atrocities committed by him against countless worlds and people, if it could be some kind of set-up. But there's nothing left to take on Philos, nothing to surrender if it comes to that, and you cannot recall the last time you feared for your life, not like it held any value.

There's is no threat in the way he looks at you at all.

Instead, the vicious satisfaction lights him up like a torch, eyes glued to your face, unwavering. You feel as if on a butcher's block under the weight of his scrutiny. Pinned down and flayed open, suddenly faint, sweat prickling at the back of your neck as you take a step away.

Before you're able to compose yourself, unbalanced, the guards stop in front of you, one of them kicking Sylus roughly under his knees, making him drop heavy on the marble. He doesn't even blink.

It's like a tether between you pulling insistently, making you sway forward as he keeps looking, hums low in his throat, almost a purr,

"The crown fits you well, Majesty."

You barely gather indignation at disrespect, before he flicks his eyes to the tiles under your feet, knees shifting on the floor. And then he bows.

Sylus bows low, the curve of his back almost reverent. Lower than incessant shoving from the guards could make him, their hands grasping air above his shoulders, unprepared.

There's a beauty spot on the nape of his neck and in startling clarity you can almost recall how it tasted under your mouth, though it doesn't make any sense. Your thoughts turn heavy and hot in your head, the stones left out in the sun for too long.

He smiles, then, in the quiet surrounding you, quick and content for some reason, and the ravenous emptiness you've been carrying in your heart for centuries, the one untouched by time, and death, and lies, and anything at all, howls.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

How would your skellies react to an S/O who has a green thumb? It seem like every plant S/O takes care of comes back healthier and better.

Undertale Sans - Well that's a good thing because he's a mass plant murderer. You're balancing each other lol. Every plant someone trusted Sans with ended up dying a horrible death somehow, so you're kinda saving the day by somehow reviving them. He doesn't understand how you're doing this. He swears he tried a ton of things and nothing worked. Ok, maybe most of the time he remembers he had to take care of the plant after two weeks to two months, but still.

Undertale Papyrus - He's good with flowers but he's a bit bored with the classic species. He wants cool-looking flowers and you're here to help. After two months, plants turned into a hyperfixation for Papyrus and you're living in a jungle, congratulations.

Underswap Sans - He thinks plants are boring honestly. It does nothing, it doesn't last long either, and it takes so much energy to take care of for only a few days of nice-looking moments. That's your thing, and it will say your thing. He's not patient enough for this.

Underswap Papyrus - Mr "I'm-allergic-to-everything" is not making the task easy for you lol. You're struggling to find plants and flowers that don't make him sneeze all day long. But it's a little victory every time you find something that he tolerates. Honey loves to help. Well, he loves to be included in everything his S/O is doing, but taking care of plants actually makes his anxiety shut up so he's always happy to help a bit.

Underfell Sans - He's doing his best to help but somehow he makes things worse every time he's helping. Like that time he watered your plants with gasoil and only noticed avec the twentieth flower :') He's not doing it on purpose, he's just terrible with plants.

Underfell Papyrus - You two are fighting on which plants to keep inside the house. Edge actually loves plants too, but he loves plants you hate... And you love plants he hates. He waits for you to leave the house to replace the plants, and you're doing the same. It's an eternal war. Maybe someday you'll find one you can agree on.

Horrortale Sans - He actually learns with you. At first, he doesn't show that much interest, but the more you do, the more you notice him staring behind your back. He's a bit clumsy and forgets half of the things he has to do, but it actually keeps him occupied. It actually helps his memory too since he has to water the plant every day, which is training his memory. He thinks it's a really relaxing activity and he would love to do it more often with you.

Horrortale Papyrus - He doesn't have that much of an interest in plants, but he's curious about what his S/O is doing and he's always happy to help if he can. He gladly appreciates your advice on his vegetables though. He had some difficulties growing them in the beginning but you showed him how to improve his fields and he's delighted with the result!

Swapfell Sans - He doesn't have any interest in the activity, but he likes having plants around. It makes his house look even more expensive and he's a material girl so he's really happy. You pretend like you don't see his black-and-white edge lord photos on social media next to your plants lol.

Swapfell Papyrus - I mean, you can do what you want but... Do you really want to have plants in a secluded area where Rus lives? Your plants are living in fear, never knowing if they're going to see the next day. That guy has no limits and can accidentally set the house on fire at least once a week. He's dangerous to all living things, please reconsider.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine surprisingly likes to take care of plants too. It was a true shock the first time you discovered that because that skeleton usually hates more things than he likes some. Of course, he will never say it out loud, or show he likes it. But you can sometimes catch him watering the flowers or cutting some disgracious leaves from your plants. He gives you the "what are you even looking at?" kind of look every time you see him though lol.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He saw you cut leaves and he wanted to help! So he cut leaves on all your plants. And by that I mean he cut 75% of each of your plants. When he sees your face, he goes from very proud to kicked puppy in three seconds. Maybe it's best if Coffee stays away from your plants from now on.

[whereserpentswalk]

Do you know what it looks like when powerful things, truly powerful things die? When something massive, with abilities beyond mortal power, ends its life.

When giants know it's their time to die they lay down, useally in a forest. It takes awhile to kill a giant, even when wounded they have days to prepare. They lay down so that nothing will be crushed by their fall. They have mo burial rituals, it would require too much space. It's like a whale fall when they die, the wild dogs and birds will spend weeks, mabye months feasting on their flesh. Humans and their kin can take from them too, their skin is sturdy, their organs fertilize the earth, and their bones are as hard as steel, and can be used for building or for arms. Some of the oldest cities were once towns built in giant skeletons. Both good and bad giants accept their deaths, it's in their nature.

Witches and warlocks always die the opposite way. They're stubborn, of course they are, they think the can master death itself. They make themselves all sorts of horrible things to ward off their own death, from great machines of clockwork and rhythm, to changes to their bodies to save themselves, twisting their forms into truely inhuman things. They say this is part of why so many witches and warlocks grow to such an old age, but they are still mortal at heart, most of them human by birth, though by old age they will hardly seem human, perhaps hardly seem like something of this world at all. Dying warlocks and witches always deny their own deaths, and to meet one is to witness something horrifying yet miserable. They say there was a warlock king who spent his last centuries chained to a gilded throne, unable to move, eating the souls of lesser mages to keep his own soul from passing on.

Dragons die the most destructive deaths. They are beings of fire and ash, and their bodies do not beyray that notion in their doom. Wherever they fall, they will light their surroundings ablaze, burning fields and forests, burning even oceans and lakes. Their blood will poison most life, but the life that survives is changed, flowers become thorny and hot to the touch, birds lose their feathers and grow leathery wings, snakes and lizards and crocodiles grown into wyms and drakes. And those humans and elves who survive a dragonfall but feel it's firey blood become vampires, the freshest and strongest vampires the world ever sees, more powerful and deadly than vampires turned by the bite of their own kind.

When angels die it is their own choice. They don't useally do it, but sometimes they are compelled to. Some wish to join mortal lovers and freinds who have passed, some are merely board or saddened by the world, and some; those who are born to the darkest of gods, are commanded to. They'll useally go to a city center or on top a holy place to do it, and they'll just stand or kneel where they wish to pass, and wait and their radiant bodies turn to stone or metal. They just look like statues after that, after a few generations they are useally thought to be.

Devils and faeries die the strangest deaths. Sometimes they choose to, sometimes they just know they're dying. They'll walk off to somewhere where nobody can see them, and than they just won't be there. Nobody even sees them disappear. They'll just walk into another room, and when you follow them they won't be there, like they were never there at all.

[evermoresversion]

DISTANCE, CONRAD FISHER.

PAIRING Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angsty, mentions of break up.

SUMMARY The two broke up due to Conrad's decision, but even despite all the time that has passed, you both still feel the same, so you decide to keep your distance.

SONG Distance By Ruel.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | CONRAD'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

"Yes, I'm going to Cousins this weekend." your voice rang through the house's landline as you spoke to the youngest Fisher, Jeremiah.

"This weekend? Great, we've missed you so much." He hadn't realized that Conrad was nearby listening to everything. Jeremiah hadn't said your name but he didn't have to be very smart to know who he was talking to. It was you.

"Well, see you then, bye."

"Bye."

And that was when Jeremiah became aware of Conrad's presence in the room. He swallowed, making a straight line with his lips as he looked at his brother.

"Is she coming?" Conrad asked trying not to sound panicked or something, he looked indifferent but inside he was the opposite.

"Yes, y/n is coming."

"Cool." He nodded and turned around without saying anything else.

It seemed like a coincidence that before he heard the call he already had you in mind.

You were always on his mind.

The next few days before the weekend he was mentally preparing to see you again after at least three months without having seen you since the two of you broke up. It scared the shit out of him.

When the day finally arrived a very smiling Jeremiah greeted you.

"I missed you so much, silly." He wrapped you in his arms as he swung you in them and you giggled.

"I missed you, you idiot." When he let you go he saw how you looked around the house looking for someone.

"They're shopping, they will return shortly."

You nodded with a small smile and he quickly leaned over to grab your bag and lead you to your room.

"This way, miss." You laughed at his antics and wrapped your arm around his to let yourself be guided even though you knew the house better than the back of your hand.

In the afternoon when the others arrived, they greeted you and hugged you, telling you how much they had missed you. Everyone except Conrad. He was avoiding you at all costs, in all aspects.

During the meal he could feel your gaze but he didn't return it for any reason, he wanted to but his pride and fear wouldn't allow it.

He was keeping his distance like he told you he would.

But he was dying to return to your arms, kiss you and forget everything. But the reality was that he couldn't do it anymore.

He had to keep his distance.

He couldn't break your heart again. He couldn't allow it.

When you weren't looking and the others were busy with their own conversations, he allowed himself to look at you.

You had always seemed beautiful to him, but in some way or another this time he found you gorgeous.

And he looked away from you again so he didn't want to kiss you even more.

You were right there, but he would never admit out loud that he's still in love with you.

He can't complicate things further.

He just had to be patient, just one more day and you'd be gone again. He repeated himself mentally but on the other hand it hurt him that you were leaving him again, even though you hadn't even exchanged a single word since you arrived.

And just when he thought the seemingly slow dinner was about to end, Susannah spoke. And the words she said made him panic.

"Connie, honey, why don't you and y/n help me clean up a little?" He couldn't say no when she looked at him like that and smiled so sweetly.

When he was ready to speak, you did it first.

"You should go rest, Suze, I'm sure Conrad and I can handle it, right?" you questioned looking at your ex and he just nodded without looking at either of you, picking up the plates from the table.

"Thank you very much, sweetheart, good night." The oldest waved goodbye, walking towards the stairs of the house to get out of your sight.

You gathered the rest of the dishes and as soon as you saw Conrad returning you didn't hesitate to speak.

"You said you would call." You accused him, looking at him and he just shrugged, not looking at you and playing with the napkin holder.

That was the conversation he dreaded.

"I was keeping my distance."

You sighed, shaking your head with a sarcastic smile.

"And you just say it like that? It's hard for me to just let go of what we had, for God's sake, it was three years of relationship. At least you could call me to tell me you were okay."

And that was the last thing that triggered everything he had been keeping to himself since you had broken up.

"Do you think it wasn't hard for me too? Because it was, y/n." You saw how his chest fell and rose rapidly due to the heaviness of his breathing, just as yours was too.

"Then why didn't you call?!"

"Because I didn't want to stay stuck in those memories to make it worse, to not feel worse."

The two looked at each other for a few seconds, as if you were telling each other everything you couldn't with words.

"I just can't describe the way it hurts, because I know that what we had is no longer and will never be."

You sighed in denial, finishing cleaning everything to walk towards the kitchen and before leaving the dining room he took your arm.

"It is the best." He looked you straight in the eyes and that's when you knew, it was better to keep your distance.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023