#kinda how the void consumes what it touches

[tormva]

So Viktor can see the arcane, interact with it

But that is just one side of it

There's a message hidden within the pattern

And it's the void.

And that's what Jayce is able to see through

The other side of that coin

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

🫂 Radiating Justice || Hellsing Alucard Angst 🫂

Word Count: 4,915

WARNING - As a victim I was going through a rough day when I started this. I looked up when SA awareness month was thinking it was this month but it's fine. Close enough if you will haha. April is nearly here and it'll be Sexual assault Awareness Month. April is also my birthday month so there's quite a bit of angst in the air with me right now. 

The story includes the talk of sexual assault and abuse so please be aware. To all the fellow victims out there hello, I see you and I am with you. 

Check out my other socials and follow if you want and I'm open for commissions so if you are interested in that please dm or comment. (PayPal & Cashapp preferred. I'm open to other payment methods if you prefer them but we'll have to talk about it. Currently working on getting something set up for someone else but since I'm kinda new to everything you'll have to be patient with me. ^^`

👇🏾 Story Continues Down Below 👇🏾

~

It's one of those days. 

One of those fucking days. 

The days were his past, the long and vast pit of it plagued his mind. He's in the void, the one that's been hovering over him the the last couple of decades. The one that had formed directly after the Turks. 

He remembers no matter how many peoples he's met, no matter how many he's lost or torn up with his very own teeth and claws… nothing ever seemed to actually get rid of his original past. 

Even when he was joking, laughing, cackling it always lingered whether he wanted it to or not even if the distractions he had around him now seemed to quiet them from time to time it was still other fucking hell. 

They whispered to him, voices much like the one he held so many years ago. Voices that sounded like what he used to, telling him that it was his fault even if he tried to avoid it. Telling him that if he had been stronger back then he wouldn't have to suffer with the thoughts he was plagued with now, that sure it wasn't his fault, not necessarily, but what if he hadn't of been cursed into that world… hadn't of been created at all. If it wasn't that voice it was all the others, the souls of those that he had been made into consuming who had now… practically been able to see his life, who had been forced into watching his pain just as much as he was. 

They whispered, voices echoing in the shadows of his subconscious and he watched them do so with dead eyes. 

And if it wasn't the whispers, the gasps, the pained and sorrowful looks he received from the dead of those following him it was himself. 

At times, when there was nothing else but him, the darkness and that… child, Alucard was faced with being glared at, yelled and cursed at by them for not giving them the strength he now had and he listened… He did so until they gripped at the shirt they were wearing which was dirty, covered in muck and blood and fluids he rather wouldn't think of but what privilege did he have for such a wish? 

All he could do was listen to them because after so many years he's come to the understanding that they never had anyone to do such with. He had been forced to live the life he lived now, yes he had cursed God much like this child was cursing him now and had been created into what he is now but Alucard at times wondered just how… his life could have been if none of it happened at all. 

And he was pissed because after all these years it was simply too, fucking late. 

Even so, when they crumbled to their knees in a ball of tears… shaking, hiccuping, Alucard kneeled carefully before them. 

They were so small, so dirty… filthy and yet Alucard couldn't find himself to judge them as he had so cruelly done many, many times now. He couldn't look down on them for being what he was, small and weak and he looks at them with his crimson eyes like the shadow of a wolf in darkness. 

His body could still feel pain, just not as it didn't before he turned. The touches always seemed to linger like ghost touching and caressing him, gripping and squeezing him even when he knew no one else was touching him and at times… he almost seemed to trick himself into telling him he enjoyed it. 

After all who would he be now if he had never ran into the great and famous Ottoman Ruler Sultan Murad ll? The shit stain who had seemed to plague his mind enough to remind him of his origins even after all this fucking time that has passed. Alucard wouldn't be Alucard… if it hadn't been for him… right? 

He was losing his mind. He's been doing so for so long now.

At times his body didn't even feel like his own which was probably why he felt a bit different every time he had the time and chance to choose another. At times such occurrences almost seemed to make him feel better until someone whispered his name, or caressed his body in a way that always seemed to spark his memory in the worst of ways. 

He had never touched himself with those memories on his mind, it made him feel sick and even sicker when he seemed to… wish that he could. Sometimes a heat seemed to boil in his gut and after so many years of using his body for many things he had learned the difference between having actual attraction to someone but even that seemed to make things worse at times.

Knowing he wanted to be touched, needed to be by someone, anyone who actually gave a fuck about him versus knowing that haunting touch of that horrid man who only did so for sick pleasure seemed to drive him into an even deeper whole than he already was in. He's had his lovers, the ones he deemed worthy enough to sleep and bed with but something always lingered and it was starting to feel like something that he would never be able to actually get rid of.

It makes him dread his existence, almost as if he thought that maybe he shouldn't have tested the old bag of shit that they called God. Almost, because even with how empty he felt… he was still rather stubborn. 

It was like pulling at himself and a part of him was tempted at the very idea as he continued to watch that small child cry and sob before him. Distantly it made him think of some small animal pleading to some beast, like a deer in the hold of a wolf. There was fear, the smell of blood and ash in the air around them and yet as they sat here together in this void there also seemed to be a sense of understanding. Even wolves could be weak, even deer could be strong, nothing seemed to make sense but that…it did. 

Alucard found himself coming to a bit of a conclusion of some sort as the voices of the dead whispered to them and for the first time in a long, long time they seemed to actually make sense. 

He was broken. 

So much so that not only had the spirits around him spilled their blood but he had too and it rained over them as well as himself.

He was broken but not alone as he sits here with the many pieces of himself and fragments of humanity.

‘W-Why? Huh?! Why did it have to be like this?! Why did it have to be me!..’ They bawled like the child that they were and always would be because while they were both Alucard they had enough time to become… their own entity as well. 

Crimson eyes stay on them before slowly falling shut and as darkness seems to color his own vision now Alucard reaches out slowly to the child, raising his hands and leading them over before taking hold of them. 

They are a lot smaller than he is now and it's honestly rather interesting seeing such a difference. Alucard almost couldn't believe that he used to be so small considering how he presented himself to others now. He feels them jump under the light touch and he briefly wonders if even that hurts and he thinks to pull his hands away but then slowly, they lift their head and for the first time in this moment between the two of them, they look up at him, their eyes shining with tears and Alucard hadn't realized it until now but his also seemed… wet. 

He's… crying with them? 

He's crying with them. 

He hadn't felt like he'd been able to do such a thing after everything, after so many years, he couldn't even remember the last time he's even felt the itch to let out tears and yet here he was now as those usually smug and cocky eyes seemed to water. 

He takes hold of them though he doesn't have to hold hard as they immediately shuffle closer now as if searching for the comfort they've never been given and who was Alucard to deny them of such right now of all times. It's like they are both deer now or both wolves with Alucard being the buck or leader of the other now, here to comfort them much like a mother or father would do for a sobbing child that they loved and cared for. 

Alucard finds himself with them moving in and clinging to him and his cloak- his garbs that were all black just like the shadows that created his form. They hold him tight, nails digging into what they could and as Alucard sits back on his haunches his moves one arm to slip under their bottom and pull them even closer while his other hand moves to cradle their head, his large hand tangling in messy, inky black hair. The sob they let out at being held so close after all this time is enough to send the mightiest shivers rushing up Alucard’s spine as he clutches them just a bit tighter. 

And who would he be to let them cry alone while they were literally in his arms now? So of course, his own eyes look up to the darkness like clouds over them and as tears well up in his own eyes they slide shut slowly. Tears roll down his own cheeks as he holds them, as they sob ugily into his shoulder, wetting the fabric that seemed to cling to Alucard's body and he doesn't care because being wet with tears was a lot better than being wet with other things right now… The child shakes violently, soft cries turning louder and louder, turning into screaming, kicking and hitting as they seem to become overwhelmed with everything they've been cursed into living with within him and Alucard only seemed to soften, hugging them like he couldn't imagine letting go because he couldn't feel the pain of their little punches and kicks but he could feel the pain that threatened to overwhelm him if he let them go now, to break him if he loosened his grip even the tiniest bit. 

After everything, this felt like nothing. 

He could handle this reaction because no one would understand them but him, either one of them. 

It takes a moment, a few minutes maybe or it could have been a couple hours, Alucard at times could lose track of time in this place not that time seemed to matter in any way to him any more. Either way, the child grows quiet, sniffling and rubbing their face viscously into his chest in pain and angst but even though it hurts, everything hurts, they do seem to like being in his arms and held by him like the small child they are. There's nothing he or they could do after all this time. 

At least, nothing when it came to regaining the innocence that was lost to them, stolen from them but… maybe, a sense of peace could be fromed. Even just a little if… 

He found him. 

…

There, hidden in the crowd shaking like the scared little dog he was. 

And that's exactly how he should feel. 

Alucard slowly opens his eyes once more and turns his gaze in the direction of the piece of shit and he doesn't seem to be the only one as the child lifts their head slowly. Their eyebrows knitted together as an expression on pure rage slowly but surely forms on their lips and once fully there they also turn their gaze to follow Alucard's. 

There he was, the filthy bastard. The shadows and other spirits seeming to flicker and move aside to expose him more to the two and as if he can smell the animosity that suddenly fills the air he perks and comes face to face with the crowd and Alucard in particular. The child seems to reel their teeth back like a rabid dog, fangs sparkling even in such darkness and Alucard feels himself make a similar grimace but there's a sadistic look to his that forms as it always did when he was presented with these moments. That sadistic look that seemed to show up when he was fighting on the battlefield though the idea of controlling himself is nowhere in sight like it would be if he was killing ghouls usually. It's bitter. There's unbridled rage just seeing the man, a taste of something similar to oil of his tongue like bile and when Alucard moves to get to his feet he continues to hold the child but now with his one arm under them as he stands to his full height. 

Immediately Sultan attempts to run, jerking in order to gather himself only to crash to the groud when a hand grabs his ankle roughly. 

It's a phantom hand and not one of Alucard's own per se but one of a spirit in the mass group around them and it dawns on Alucard that they are also… just as furious. 

Sure, many had been beasts who were killed by Alucard because they had to be but those who held similar trauma seemed moved by these things. Seemed just as angry as Alucard was and the child, and for what reasons in particular he wasn't sure but after spending so many years with so many souls only to just now learn them for who they were Alucard knew that he wasn't alone in more than one way as well. There were fellow victims in the group, those who had been so viciously abused by Sultan or by someone who held just as dirty of a soul as his and Alucard could hear their whispers, their words of how he should be punished far worst than simply living here with the rest of them. 

To put it simply. Many wanted to see him be punished like the vile, disgusting creature that he is. 

To be punished like a bad dog, face justice like he was meant to. 

That he should be whipped, strung up, raped just as the others had been and Alucard almost felt better at such words as they grew louder and louder, chanting, hisses and snarls filling the air. Even if some of these spirits had their own reasons for feeling such ways one way or another they all wanted him gone. They didn't want to have to share this same space with a creature like Sultan Murad ll and who was Alucard to make them, who was he to allow this man to love even amongst this place without facing the pain that he had caused upon others. 

Alucard could be rather forgiving however,

He would never forgive this man. 

He couldn't forgive this man. 

Wouldn't even dream of it. 

And so he takes a step, then another and Sultan begins to screech, already begging, pleading for the life that no longer belonged to him… doing so much crying much like Alucard had done all those years ago, over and over again as he repeatedly cried and begged and pleaded. Seeing such a weak display made him snarl, the least Sultan could do was take it like a man. Something he had said many times himself while he was buried in Alucard's small and tormented body and had he ever had mercy? 

No. He hadn't. 

So who would Alucard before to have any on him? 

When he had killed the man Alucard hated the fact that he didn't want him to just die and be blessed with finding himself at the gates at hell so instead bitterly consumed his blood, his sport, his soul just to have him here and just to torment the man just like he had for many others. 

To welcome him to hell while also showing him it in all it's best aspects. 

The spirits clung to the fat bastard as he tried kicking, tried fighting off the hands that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, they dug into his skin and ripped at his clothes until he was just as small and naked and scared as Alucard himself had been and as the great No Life King continued to approach like a giant trailing through a sea of claws and hissing, those spirits made room for him, stepping aside obediently as Alucard made slow steps. Said steps that some how rung out louder that the animalistic sounds around then, even louder then Sultan's screaming which only seemed to get louder as he fought and kicked only to now find himself naked like some wet dog that had been caught in the rain. He tries scooting away, his ass rubbing against the dark floor and his legs kicking and once he's cornered, backed up to a wall like some little bitch, Alucard pauses when he seems to catch the whiff of piss. 

Did he… 

Alucard suddenly snorts, the wild look in his eyes only growing crazier as he finds himself moving his free hand up to his mouth as if to snuff off his own laughter. 

Did Sultan Murad ll fucking piss himself out of pure fear? How precious, of course he did Alucard remembers the smell as disgusting as it is. 

How could he not after all the time the man had seemed to find humor in pissing of him after he'd cum in him, after he had his fill of Alucard's young body. The laugh that fills the air is wild, a loud cackle that rung out and filled the air.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Alucard now speaks and the child in his arms jumps a little thought they look at him with sparkling eyes almost as if in awe at that reaction.

“After all this time you can't even fight back?! You can't even bother to get to your feet?!” He giggles as all eyes turn on him and then back to the man who seemed to be shaking in a pool of his own piss. Hell, Alucard hadn't even been aware that the spirits even could piss themselves after dying and yet here he was being proven wrong in the faces of so many. “How pathetic.. You've even allowed yourself to be stripped like some corner whore.” He says, his voice dripping with venom as he continues to storm forward and a few shadows shift and stir behind him, revealing themselves as being his dogs. The shadows that he used so often when it came to killing those who truly deserve it and to say the least, they were starving. Itching the sink whatever teeth and limbs that they could into the man and Alucard could feel them waiting for his permission. 

“Should I allow you to be treated like one too? To be raped and used from every orfis like they are?” He asks with a voice so hauntingly chilling that the room feels icy on impact. 

I-I'm so sorry.. I never.. 

Sultan's voice suddenly cries out and Alucard finishes crossing the space between them with a few sudden and big steps which literally made the man yelp and try to squeeze himself into a ball as if he'd be granted access to hide. But no, not here, never here. He deserved to be seen, to be judge, ostracized like the filth that he was and if Alastor was the judge than he would judge this made and he was justice so of course he wouldn't offer him the mercy that he begs for now.

He even tries to meet Alucard before Alucard gets to him as some weak, pitiful attempt at being heard out, listened to and when Alucard stands right before him the man scrambled to his hands in knees. 

F-Forgive me! Please forgive me. 

Sultan Murad ll says while fucking sobbing, even attempting to move and kiss at Alucard's feet. He plants one and shakily looks up to Alucard to see it's affect on to be faced with… nothing. Not even the smile which had been there a moment ago as sharp, crimson eyes looks down at him like shit on the side of the street. 

Quickly the man moves down to give another kiss only to gasp and a foot connects harshly with his jaw, kicking hard enough to knock him back on his ass and make his head spin. His vision is blurred for a second and there's a ringing in his ears and it takes him a minute to realize that he was bleeding everywhere from his nose which was fractured. It's like they weren't even dead. He hadn't expected to be able to feel such pain in the afterlife and now after quite literally getting a taste the man breathes quickly and heavily, cupping his hands under his chin to uselessly try and catch the red crimson which was leaking from him like a faucet. His hands shaking horribly as he slowly looks up and meets Alucard's vicious gaze. 

“Don't touch me. You are the very last people I want touching me and you… know that.” Alucard says with a snarl as he now takes the time to lean down and place the child on the floor and understandably so, they hide behind Alucard for protection, not that they actually had anything to fear. They hid but not so much so that they couldn't see. 

They wanted to see the show too after all.  

“Those dirty lips, those filthy lips and you think that I want them on me after everything I've gone through thanks to you?” He hisses and the only reason he doesn't lunge at the man himself is because he doesn't need to, he had all these eyes around them right now, if you didn't tear him apart than someone else surely would. 

“I wouldn't even drink your blood if it was the last bit on this shit fucking rock we call Earth. Don't. Touch. Me.”

He wants to grab him and throw him so hard on the group that his body would basically burst open with broken bones and limbs on impact but Alucard felt done with this trash, this waste of a human soul. And so, he simply scoffs, moving to turn away, gathering that small child in his arms once more and they happily allow him with a little smile forming on their face. Just seeing this was enough to calm them, was enough to give them vengeance, just seeing this man… practically smelling his fear in the air was enough to heal something deep within them.

Alucard however…

Didn't seem to change as he pulls them up and allows them to look over his shoulder at the view, holding them closely and even rubbing their back a little. And with a hum and a short whistle from his lips the spirits around them seem to suddenly jumping at the man startling with the hellhounds who didn't waste any time rushing forward, hungry. 

Jaws snap down everywhere they can, fangs and claws tearing into flesh and spilling blood as Sultan screams in agony. 

He probably had thought this wouldn't be painful but it was anything but as the hounds tossed him to the ground, and they cries and pleads only seem to continue. They filled the air like music and when the other spirits joined in, rushing to see just what they could get their hands on and tear into, Alucard hums. 

There is a bit of satisfaction. 

Especially when the man is faced with not just being torn apart but groped at as well, touched fondled. 

Alucard wouldn't stop them and as his younger self watches with wide eyes he continues to hold them close as if they were his own child, one he created and to be honest… they basically were. He formed them every day, had been in this space with them alone for so many long and painful years. 

No one knew them like he did. 

And no one would know him as much as them. 

Which was perfectly fine. Screams soon turn to cries, crimson on the floor soon finds itself blending in with semen, cum as the man was used but not only those starving spirits but the hellhounds too. Over and over again like some whore, some slut, just like he had done to so many others. 

There's a sense of peace that fills the air over all the sobbing, the crying, the laughing and Alucard finds himself feeling even more so introspective then he had originally. Coming to the conclusion that even this didn't feel like enough to pay for it all. 

However, the child in his arms seemed to brighten, shining like a start as they watched this show. It's the brightest Alucard has ever seen them, it's such a pure look that he never thought he'd be able to see in this world and it's warm. So warm, like the shining sun and before Alucard can stop himself he falls to his knees, clutching the child tighter now and burying his head in his shoulder. 

The child squeaks and looks at him carefully and he's shaking, it clicks now that Alucard has finally broken, shedding tears from those beautiful crimson eyes of his and they still still for a moment but a soft smile forms on their lips. 

Slowly, gently, they move to wrap their own arms around him now, hugging him close and Alucard sobs under the touch. 

He's been to this place so many times now and never has he felt like this, never had everything just made… sense, and it was overwhelming having spent so many years with this pain. Trying to hold on to it and deal with it on his own but the thing was that Alucard was anything but alone and they were with him as much as he was with them and no matter how much he tries to ignore them, avoid them, hate them. 

And Alucard found himself very grateful for them as he continues to let out tears that had been trapped in him for so, so long and they let him with a smile on their face. 

“Thank you.” 

They whisper now against Alucard while gently rubbing his back now much like he had done with him as he clung to them like a child would with their favorite toy. 

It's like he had finally felt something new, different from what he's been stuck with filling for all this time and he tried to handle such an overload of emotions but simply couldn't. 

“Thank… you.”

Alucard says back now while nosing at them, shaking a little less now as they rubbed them and held him close. Never having cried over all of this was one thing but having someone to cry with? Was definitely another. 

It's relieving. 

Like popping a balloon full of water, and as blood spills behind them Alucard allows himself to but wash with every emotion. And as he continues to cry he feels a wave of euphoria knowing that he's suddenly found a better reason to continue this life of his. 

When he pulls back from the void he finds you next to him. Resting calmly against his shoulder, sleeping soundly it seemed. You had been working with him enough now that you two had built a bound and sometimes, you definitely tested your luck and this was definitely one of those times. A tear falls from his eyes, then another because why… are you here? Greeting him after he just took such a journey within himself. 

You were so little next to him, so… sweet and kind and Alucard would be lying if he said that he didn't find himself fond of you. 

Your bright eyes, and soft lips, smooth skin.. and with such beauty you were also… kind. So caring and loving and it suddenly makes sense as the why you're also here with him right now, practically tucked into his cloak. You must've worried for him. When the two of you met you seemed to nervous, so hesitant and as… cute as it was it was clear you tended to keep a distance from him so.. being here with him now, had to mean you weren't scared enough not to lay and take a nap right next to him and that makes him… smile a little.

He looks down at you for a moment, admiring your lashes and soft cheeks and the way you chest rose and fell slowly and without much other thought he wipes his eyes of their tears and slowly, carefully leans down to place a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips were soft, careful, against her warm skin and he could easily pick up on her natural scent. When he pulls back you stir a little, just a tiny bit and Alucard chuckles, moving his arm in a way for it to slip around you easier and pull you even closer. He goes back to resting his head, leaning it back to look up at the ceiling before slowly letting them fall shut and for the first time in a long time his heart felt…

Light. 

~

[galaxyedging]

Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: talk of anxiety, antidepressants, side effects, and worries.

Summary: A little ficlet/personal piece on antidepressant use with fluffy Marcus.

WC:616

Banana Pancakes

The canvas sat in front of her as blank as it had been the day she bought it. For a while, she pondered how it mirrored the void inside of her. The difference was that the canvas had clearly defined edges. The void within her was hazy.

It seemed to shift and blur and cloak her passions, sometimes consuming them completely. For a while, it stole her passion for Marcus. His late night visits never went further than cuddling on her sofa. At the time, he was caught up in a big case, so he often came to her bone tired and wary. If he noticed her lack of desire for him, he never mentioned it. Or the fact when it returned that her body didn't react to him the way it usually did.

Her latest passion to be consumed was for her art. There were fleeting moments of inspiration, an itch of an idea at the back of her mind, the tug of the lure of creation then…nothing. Days went by when she didn't even think about her art or anyone else's. Gallery shows came and went. Books and articles piled up unread. She missed the thrill of discovering a new artist. She missed the rush from creating. The little blue pill from her doctor was supposed to lift her mood. In some ways, it had. Her anxiety had lessened. Her days passed easier without the burden of a busy, over cautious mind. The pill was helping, yet she wondered if it was worth what she had lost. The power of creation. The connection she felt with others through their artist expression. The joy of seeing the world anew through the eyes of others. The shared interest with her love.

Marcus found her sitting in her workspace. She almost didn't hear him letting himself through the side door. His footsteps on the concrete floor of the converted space alerted her, and she fixed her posture. Instead of being slumped and staring into space, she sat up and looked purposefully, seemingly deep in thought. Marcus's arms wrapped around her waist, his lips touched her shoulder before he nuzzled into her neck. His hair is soft under her fingertips as she lean into his affection. The words tumble out before she really thinks about them. The confession that's been on the tip of her tongue this past month. Just after she and Marcus exchanged 'I love yous' for the first time as her brain couldn't fully enjoy the moment.

"...What if this is me now? What if that passion never returns? What if that part of my life is done and I lose those connections? To my friends…to you?" All those secret worries were out now.

Marcus was quiet for a moment before drawing her every further back into his arms. His heat and strength pressed reassuringly to her back. "Or what if this is another phase, albeit slightly longer, and on the other side, you gain so much more? Your passion coupled with a lighter heart and mind? For the record, our connection goes much deeper than a shared love of art."

"I would hope so." She managed a chuckle with tears in her eyes.

"Of course it does. We also have our love for banana pancakes." His smile bloomed against the skin of her neck. "Come on, I'll make you some."

Sat at the kitchen table with Marcus humming as he flipped another batch of pancakes, the first spark of inspiration flared under her skin. The fine hairs on the back of her hand stood up. When Marcus's hand came to cover them, she felt a renewed hope. For her art. For her life.

Author's note: This is a little drabble on why I haven't been relentlessly tagging you guys in the craziest of shit from my brain lately, or been very active here.

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse @sherala007

[bluegekk0]

hey, it's been a while since i've last submitted a question here, hope you've been doing great, but i've kinda been wondering to myself just now, how does Holly's eyes work? since the more i think about it, i wonder if they have some sort of optic inside their shell, or if the void inside their body magically gives them eyesight, idk seems like a weird question, but as someone whos been kinda fascinated trying to speculate about vessel anatomy both in cannon and headcannon, i would be curios to see what others would think.

Hi there! Thank you, I hope you've been doing good as well!

The way I imagine it, their eye sockets aren't necessarily empty. Well, they sort of are - they don't have eyeballs, so I imagine the void gives them the ability to see. How exactly it works I'm not sure, but considering the void seems aware of its surroundings to the point of lashing out if you get too close, perhaps focusing that into an eye like structure would allow them to properly see its environment.

In the past I toyed with the idea of Holly being colorblind, either because of the void itself, or due to the infection damage. But these days I tend to lean more into them seeing colors but in a very washed out way. They can recognize blue from green or orange, but they would have trouble distinguishing between individual shades of those colors. And I do think that's directly related to how their eyesight works - they don't have an actual eyeball structure, so I think it makes sense that it wouldn't be perfect, the Abyss isn't exactly the most vibrant, so good color vision wouldn't be a priority for any void being.

As for how their eye is structured - like I said, it's not exactly an empty socket. They have a membrane covering it that keeps the void inside their skull/mask.

You can see it here compared to their cracked eye where the membrane was torn.

The membrane itself is semi-transparent. In its normal state it appears opaque, but if a bright light shines through it (say, for example, the blazing infection substance growing inside their head) then it becomes more noticeably translucent. It also doesn't reflect any light, so you'll never see them with light reflections similar to what you see on FPK or Hornet - the eye looks nearly pitch black 99% of the time thanks to the void underneath.

Aside from keeping the void inside, it also doubles as a focusing point for their eye structure, like a kind of lens, which is why they are completely blind in their right eye, since the membrane there is gone. That's not to say you could easily pop it with your finger. It's a relatively sturdy structure, and as long as the damage isn't severe, it can also heal and regenerate. But if it's completely destroyed, then unfortunately it's not fixable.

Another detail about the membrane - it's similar to their outer body shell in that it allows for controlled use of void tendrils. For instance, their missing arm has permanent shell damage, which means that the void there is unstable and can lash out at the environment unpredictably (and that is why it's covered by bandages, to keep it within their body). However, the shell on rest of the body can form into more stable void, used to hold and touch things, grab and consume food or to vibrate and make subtle noises. The eye membrane works in a very similar way, and as you can guess, their right eye lacks that function (that is where the eyepatch comes into play). Basically how I imagine it, the shell can "melt" into void and then harden again at will.

All of this also means that you can't actually take off their "mask". While it appears more hollow than the faces of non-void creatures, it is still directly connected to the rest of their body and many of its functions depend on that connection. Their sight being the primary one. that said, since the head itself is not made of void, it still becomes the "corpse" in an event of death.

I hope this was a satisfying answer. I like thinking about the biology of these characters, it's fun putting together the puzzle pieces left by the canon into a more complete image. Or, in the case of FPK and Grimm especially, making stuff up and turning them into weird synapsid/reptilian things that pretend to be bugs hahaha

[teecupangel]

How about a reverse of animal Desmond in the past, and instead it's his ancestor's, as animals, in the future? Maybe watching Desmond as he goes through the memories with the Animus and his eventual 'death' via Isu BS. (And witnessing Bill's punch, oof.)

I read ‘ancestors as animals’ and immediately thought: “Desmond as a Disney Princess? Desmond as a Disney Princes???” XD

Okay.

So this seems like a two part scenario with the first part being more like a prologue of Desmond’s ancestors being able to watch Desmond from the past. Maybe during the time that they were in possession of the Apple.

Although that would be a bit hard to explain because Ratonhnhaké:ton thought the Apple he received from Washington was dangerous and he would never willingly ‘poke’ it.

So an alternative would be that they all catch a glimpse of Desmond while the Apple is in their possession but they believe that it is meant to entice them to touch the Apple more, to find out more, and let the Apple sink its claws into them further and further.

So they resist its calls. Even Ezio who had been given a glimpse of someone saying the name ‘Desmond’ and a vision of a man turning to face him. But he had been so tempted. So very tempted that it was only because he was not alone that he could resist the temptation. It was only because he knew the effects it had on Leonardo after Cesare made him access the Apple’s knowledge that stops him from succumbing to it.

But Altaïr… Altaïr had resisted for so long, had controlled himself, and only studied the Apple for a specific amount of time. Then… Sef died… Malik died… Maria died… And Darim left him.

All alone.

And so Altaïr stopped resisting. He let the calls of the Apple consume him.

And that’s when he met Desmond Miles.

No.

Not met.

He watched.

And he felt the loss of another loved one, of a family member, once more.

So when Altaïr took his final steps in a library void of any knowledge or books.

He whispered to the Apple his final command.

An Apple that had long bent to his will.

An Apple corrupted by the will of one poor miserable old man who was tired of losing everything.

And that whisper became a wave that corrupted every other POE connected to the same network as this abomination formed by both the will of the Isus and that of an old man with a lot of time in his hands.

The wave grew into a tsunami…

That covered and destroyed part of the calculations that the Isus have prepared.

Not enough to change the events that must come to pass.

But just big enough…

To wash old entities into the final part of the calculations, destroying what was meant to happen.

And creating a pit of sand where a castle could be built…

And destroyed once more.

Now. For the second part!

The easiest way would be if the animal turned Assassins found their way to Desmond on their own while he was growing up.

And it would be so easy for all of them to be different types of eagles or some other kind of avian but I kinda like the idea that Desmond’s main ancestors would be Ratonhnhaké:ton’s DLC animal spirits and it’ll be:

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Ratonhnhaké:ton is the wolf because Connor means ‘lovers of wolves’ or ‘master of hounds’ and he has to have the ability to call ghost wolves with a howl.

He finds Desmond while he’s in New York (maybe before he was a bartender) as a cub and Desmond thought he was a dog.

By the time Ratonhnhaké:ton had grown into an actual full-sized wolf, Desmond knew he was a wolf but just kept telling anyone who ask if that was a fucking wolf that it’s a ‘dog’.

Because he doesn’t want anyone to call animal control, Ratonhnhaké:ton has to stay in his apartment.

Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to save Desmond when he got captured by Cross but he was too late and he spent the entire time of AC1 and AC2 trying to find a way to get from New York to Rome.

Shaun almost had a heart attack when Ratonhnhaké:ton entered their hideout during one of Desmond’s Animus sessions.

Desmond likes to say “don’t be stupid, Shaun, he’s obviously a dog.” to Shaun, straight out lying to him. (He’s not trying to gaslight Shaun but if Shaun starts doubting himself, that’s on him)

Ezio

Okay, I know Ezio means eagle as well but Altaïr is gonna be the eagle and nothing can change my mind on that.

Which means Ezio gets to be the bear that they find sleeping in the Sanctuary underneath Villa Auditore.

Like, Desmond and Lucy just enters thru the ‘back door’ of the Sanctuary and Lucy’s like “Desmond… don’t move.” and Desmond’s like “???” then he sees the bear and goes “Holy shit, Lucy… is that a fucking bear” “Sssshhh, it’s still sleeping. Let’s just bac-”

Ezio wakes up and yawns, making both of them freeze before he turns to see Desmond and his bear face lits up because “Desmond!” which sounds like a bear roar to them.

Cue Desmond and Lucy screaming in a high-pitched tones when the bear suddenly charges them and then we have a comedic chase scene where Ezio the bear chases Desmond around the Sanctuary while Lucy climbs one of the statues because every man for themselves, Desmond, oh screw you Lucy!

It finally ends with Ezio bodyslamming Desmond and… just staying on top of Desmond and giving him a bear hug. Ezio is a big bear and Desmond just lies there, thinking yeah, play dead, might work.

Once it’s certain that the bear just wants to hold Desmond (and groom his hair apparently), Lucy gingerly walks away, ignoring Desmond’s death glare, to open the secret passage.

Ratonhnhaké:ton the wolf rush inside because he heard Desmond shouting and, really, it took both Shaun and Rebecca’s combined weight to stop him from trying to follow Desmond and Lucy in that underground passage.

It ends with the wolf and the bear just chilling near Desmond whenever he’s in the Animus and the three humans that are not named Desmond are starting to think that something strange is going on.

Altaïr

Okay, so Altaïr is an eagle in this one and he’d been trying to find Desmond because, out of all the ancestors, he’s the only one who actually thought… yeeaaahhh… this is probably my fault.

Unfortunately, his clearest memories of Desmond are when he had been abducted by Abstergo and got sent to Rome so he caught up to Desmond while he’s in the Rome facility in AC1.

He tried to help the Assassin team that tried to get Desmond out but they were outgunned and no one really paid attention to a fucking eagle until it started crying at them and leading them out of the ambush point they found themselves in.

After that, Altaïr had to leave because Abstergo seemed to think he’s some kind of Assassin spy. What? Did they think Assassins could have some kind of special bonds with an eagle or something? How ridiculous.

Anyway, the heightened security of Abstergo kept Altaïr from thinking of how to help Desmond out and, really, it was a good thing Lucy got him out because Altaïr had been debating how painful it would be to divebomb the wall of windows in the Animus level.

He follows them to the warehouse hideout and had been planning to make himself known when he sees the wolf barreling inside and… well… Altaïr could feel something different with that wolf. So he just… starts observing them first, perched in one of the many beams, silent and quiet.

When they got to Villa Auditore, Altaïr had been tempted to follow them in the mines but decided to just wait for a bit. Something was deep underground that felt the same as the wolf. He just doesn’t know what.

Altaïr was pretty sure he’d been quite sneaky but then Desmond climbs up the tree he had been using to keep a lookout of the villa and asks if he had followed them from Rome and Altaïr is impressed that Desmond actually found him. He must be better than Altaïr assumed (no, Desmond always knew he was around because he gave off the same feeling the wolf and the bear gives him) and Altaïr finally decides to join Desmond and sits on his shoulder as they make their way back to the Sanctuary.

When they get there, Shaun takes one long look at the eagle on Desmond’s shoulder, turns to stare at the wolf and bear near the Animus and just… gives up. Just one long suffering sigh and turns around while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Other possible animals to include:

Edward: It would be fun to make him some kind of fish like maybe a goldfish or a beta fish that Desmond could keep in a small aquarium in his apartment. Like, he has no real ‘importance’ to the plot but he kept Desmond company before the plot. He could also be a jackdaw because that’s the name of his ship. XD

Haytham: Some kind of fluffy cat. He’s so fluffy he keeps getting petted which stops him from doing whatever he was planning to do. Seriously. He’s been taken to the pound and adopted so many times that Haytham has lost track (of how many times he had been taken and where Desmond was)

Aquilus: It would be fun if he was one of the guard dogs that the Farm had. He always let Desmond pet him and tried to console him as a kid. When Desmond ran away, Aquilus helped him navigate the forest before staying behind even though Desmond begged him to come with him. Aquilus stayed on the Farm to keep the other guard dogs from chasing Desmond’s scent and helping Desmond leave.

Other possible MC turned animal (I just went with my first thought so none of this… other than Arno… are sorta final?):

Shay: I’m thinking crow since that’s one of the Morrígan’s primary ‘forms’

Arno: Okay, okay. So… hear me out. Arno as a… sea otter. Wait, wait, wait. I have a reason for it! Sorta. Kinda. Anyway. Arno shares the same birthday (August 26) as one of the oldest sea otters right now: Rosa the Sea Otter. ……… Yeah, that’s it. That’s the reason why I want Arno to be a sea otter. I said I had a reason, I never said it was a ‘good’ reason.

Jacob and Evie: a pair of corgi the same size and breed as Desmond the Dog. Jacob believes that whoever reincarnated them as corgis had a bad sense of humor. They get mistaken for the royal corgis a lot and it’s quite annoying.

Bayek: Amun is usually symbolized by the ram-headed sphinx so a ram maybe?

Aya: the same snake that she got the venom she gave to Cleopatra

Kassandra: Okay, this is gonna be weird, probably, but I’m thinking maybe a goat? And! It’s not because she put the eye of ‘Cyclops’ into a goat’s ass, alright? Her ship is based on the goddess who nurtured Zeus and she used goat’s milk in that myth so I thought… it kinda works??? Also, it would be funny if Kassandra wondered if she was being punished for the whole eye on the goat’s ass incident by being turned into one.

Eivor: Raven the same shade and size as Sýnin.

[helloisbyebye]

the start of haven's smiling habit.

"Haven!"

Someone approach him from behind, startle him in process. He quickly turn his head to the left and greeted by Haruka's face. The archangel smile sweetly while hiding something behind her hand. It smells pleasant, he wonder what she got there. "Here, look what I got for you!" She said, revealing some kind of flowers on her hands.

"What's this?" he ask, staring at the flowers like it was an anomaly. "You don't know what a flower is?" Haruka dumbfoundedly ask him back, sweat dropping from her face. She really didn't expect the young angel to ask her what a flower is. Haven of course stare at her like she's an idiot. "I do know what a flower is, it's just that this one feels different. What did you do?"

Haruka blinked a few times before finally realizing her mistake of not explaining the situations. "OH! There's nothing wrong with the flowers I promise, it's just some rare flowers I found around the upper ground of Heaven. Which is why the aura is kind of different from the flowers you usually saw." The Archangel explain kindly to the younger angel.

"What did it do?" Haven ask again.

"Guess"

"... Seriously?" Haven sigh, blankly stared at his caretaker with his black scary void eyes (the eyes that cause his family to abandoned him, the eyes of a sinner they said), wondering why is she like this and why did he agree on her taking care of him. Haruka only giggle at the face Haven make while placing one of the flowers on Haven's hair, making him whine at the action and start pouting at Haruka. Which only cause Haruka to start laughing more.

"Please, for the love of God, just explain what these flowers do." Haven sigh tiredly, wanting this interaction with the Archangel to end quickly so he can continue minding his own business again. "Alright, alright.." Haruka let out a giggle one last time before explaining to Haven what kind of flowers she brought.

"These flowers are one of the rarest flowers in both Heaven and Hell. You might ask, 'Why Haruka?? Why is this flower so rare?''" Haruka mimic Haven at the last part, much to his dismay. "Well, this flower kinda hold some kind of power in it that make someone two times stronger than they originally were, depends on how many you consume them." Haruka said while placing more flowers on Haven's head. Haven perking up immediately, his hand went up to touch the said flowers on his head. And like a greedy motherfucker he is, he instantly went to put it in his mouth only to be stopped by none other than Haruka herself.

Taking the flowers from Haven's hand, she said, "You silly little angel, you can't just eat it instantly dummy." Haruka laugh lightly while patting Haven's head who was staring at her dumbfoundedly. "You can't?" Haven ask, frown forming on his face. Haruka shaking her head in respond "Nope."

"How about this, I'll give you one petal each time you smile. What do you think?" Haven's frown deepened.

"You know I haven't smile in years, right?"

"Exactly.. Haven, You should smile more"

"... Alright, deal."

Haruka by @anotherrosesthatfell

this is how their interaction went ig

[hiddens-studio]

How the story begins.

-----

Mario and Luigi had been alerted to possible danger by two toads banging on their door. The toads yelling about how it's supposed to be morning, yet the sun never rose. In fact, at one point during the night, all of the stars had vanished leaving only the moon.

Concerned, the bros decide to head to the castle to meet up with Peach, however when they arrived... they didn't find the princess, instead they found a very heavily angered Bowser demanding an audience with Peach from a few guard toads who insist they don't know where she is.

Mario and Luigi step in to stop the conflict.

After defeating Bowser, he finally actually listens to the toads. Peach hasn't been seen since the day before. They looked everywhere in the castle and toad town, but nothing. The only thing they found was her crown.

Mario takes the crown and notices that the red jewel that is usually front and center on the crown was missing. The bros and Bowser agree that someone must have captured Peach. Bowser leaves, wanting to gather his army to launch a search.

However Bowser doesn't get far before the ground begins to crack. Bit by bit, chunk by chunk, the world is fully consumed by darkness, turning to a void of nothingness, like the world was being feasted upon and eaten by darkness.

Before the void could touch the bros however, someone reaches out to grab them, transporting them away from the collapsing world.

...for all Mario and Luigi know, the mushroom kingdom is as good as gone.

When Mario and Luigi came too, they noticed they were in a familiar area of green walls... Dimension D. And In front of the bros, was the man themself: Dimentio.

Luigi would freak out and run to hide behind Mario who would guard him. But Dimentio doesn't attack and simply talks to the bros.

Dimentio explains that all of the stars of all of the worlds had begun vanishing one by one, plunging worlds into darkness before the void consumes the rest. Dim doesn't want that, which surprises and very much confuses the bros.

Dimentio says that he wants to stop whoever is behind this, but he also admits he'll need the bros help to do so.

Mario and Luigi are (VERY REASONABLY) hesitant to help Dimentio. But he then tells them that this issue is a dimensional issue, many worlds from many dimensions are affected. And Dimentio has the ability to cross to those worlds with the snap of his fingers. It would help immensely with tracking down the one responsible.

So the bros agree, if anything to keep an eye on Dim and make sure he's not planning a double cross.

Dimension D seems to be uneffected by the surrounding chaos, as it runs off Dimentio's own magic. "It exists as long as I exist." In his words. So Dimension D is used as a hub area, a place for the trio to return to after a mission and be somewhat safe.

With that unfriendly alliance agreed upon, the adventure begins.

Dimentio explains he identified 3 worlds that have not fallen yet to darkness. He suggests they head to each and see if they could prevent any one of those worlds destruction. Or at least try to find any clues of what's going on.

One world, the deepsea kingdom, is a world of nothing but deep ocean.

The second, an arctic kingdom, a realm of ice and snow.

And finally, a kingdom in the sky, a world where the land became uninhabitable, and such the citizens live on floating manmade islands.

Dimentio's true motives at this point and for a while are completely hidden, he's kinda vague and the bros don't trust him at all, but...at least he's helping?

The bros will not let their guard down around him at all though, not for a while.

----

And there's the very beginning of Event Horizon! Not going into too much detail since this is more so a summary of events and not really a full on fic. I'll definitely do more of these story posts soon. I hope you enjoy this!

[yallmakemyassitch]

hai, itz teh lee!void anon from b4, i waz talking about teh tickly alphabet list!

Just gonna assume you're talking about this alphabet list so here you go!

Headcanons✨

B - How do they react to bondage, do they enjoy it and if yes, what is their favorite pose?

You're both very brave and foolish if you attempt to restrain A.C Void of all people. Of course it won't work since he's at his most powerful and can just "consume" whatever you had planned for him. Now that you're powerless, not like you had a chance against him anyway, A.C will slowly approach you... Suddenly see this black smog surround you and you feel heavier, heavier and heavier... Soon enough you collapse from the gravity and you can't move a muscle, to make matters worse, you look up and see A.C Void looking down at you deviously. It doesn't matter what position you're in, he'll keep you there just as he wants. Needless to say, he doesn't care how much you're screaming, he will keep going until you're unconscious. Of course, being the one to cause you this won't affect him and he can just casually brush aside your limbs to get to your worst spots. To make matters worse, he will ask where your worst spot is. Politely. It's in your best interest to tell him honestly since there's a very, very small chance he won't attack there. Yet. Void will know when you're lying no matter what, so if he catches you slipping then prepare to not be able to breath for a very, very long time

D - What is their most ticklish spot?

Kinda insane how you weren't spagetified in that instant but oh well. Now before you get socked to Narnia and back, if you make a lucky guess then that would have to be the back of his knees. They're the only spot he can't stand being touched, even in his non-consuming form, where he's much more ticklish. You won't hear laughter but rather a shaky growl before he turns around and turns you nonexistent

R - Lee or ler, what is generally their main role?

A.C Void generally finds tickling to be a waste of time and childish, he has a universe to consume after all! But if he happens to get extra mischievous, yes even in his all-consuming form he can still feel mischief, he's a 100%, through and through ler. He adores the power trip it gives him and will milk it for as long as possible until the victim falls silent. Such a foolish mortal trying to tickle the A.C Void? Oh he'll have lots of fun with you~

W - What is their reaction to the T-word? Can they say it out loud or do they get embarrassed?

He can say it no problem whatsoever. Void will most likely say it once discovering someone was ticklish? He will ask about it in the most condescending, snide voice that will either get you flustered or angry depending on who you are

L - What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

Then again, he doesn't laugh when being tickled in his A.C Void form. But his overall laughter is so deep, it could make spiders crawl up your spine. But there's a richness to it that adds to it; if he did laugh while being tickled, you'd become so entranced to it, it's hypnotizing. It makes your mind go completely stupid and you can't help but keep exploring his weak spots before everything goes to shit

T - Teasing | Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?

Goodness gracious. Could you really call it teasing? Not at all, it's more crude insults and taunts with the situation you brought to yourself, he didn't tickle you first, moron! It's more analytical, he will narrate his findings to fluster you all the more.

"Oh, right here's bad?.. I thought so..."

But at the same time, he would be coldly insulting and scolding you for even trying, drilling and kneading into your most ticklish spot so you're practically putty in his hands, unable to respond as hysterical, wild cackles pour out of your mouth. He loves seeing you like this, it's so much fun for him

"TRYING TO TOUCH ME, MIDGET?! YOU ARE THE EPITOME OF STUPIDITY, HOW DUMB CAN YOU BE?! Like i'd ever let a short stack like you win... Now I have won, you're gonna stay here for as long as I want. Maybe for all of eternity as punishment?"

Rip 💀

===============

Anyways that's all, it was fun to get back into the thick of it! Been a while since I've done og headcanons myself :p

[averagebsdenjoyer]

He loves me... he loves me not

Note : wrote this at 2 am after crying my eyes out thinking about fyolai so like yeah, I'm just trying to contribute to Fyolai content, also wrote this while listening to bernadette because why not TWs: hurt no comfort, angst, character death, kinda graphic descriptions?, ooc (maybe idfk), Nikolai being insane, gay, not proofread, english is like my 4th language. pls tell me if I missed anything I'm not good with these things

word count: ~530

Emotions. A sweet illusion, a cage, chains. Nikolai wasn’t sure how to describe it. But he hated it. He hated it so much. He wanted to rip his skin off, gouge his eyes out, bash his head against the wall. Anything to make it stop. Anything to stop himself from feeling all those feelings. He hated it but he loved it, like a sweet sweet drug.  A drug he knew he should stop consuming but got addicted to anyways.

And the worst drug of them all? Fyodor. His addicting touches, his intoxicating kisses, late at night. Nikolai despised it to be honest. He hated being so dependant on Fyodor, he wanted to die, or to kill Fyodor. He wasn’t sure.

So why... why was he crying? Why was he sobbing so pathetically on the floor writhing in pain and calling out to his lover, the very same lover that just stabbed him in the back, not a single trace of regret or pity in his eyes. The very same lover that was already gone, probably going on with his day while Nikolai was slowly bleeding out on the dirty floor, broken sobs escaping him as he hugged himself, craving at least an ounce of affection. Emotions... Right. He hated them. He never really understood what he should feel. And even now, he didn’t know what to feel. Love, for Fyodor, whom he adored with every cell of his body? Or anger, or the deep wound, getting bloodier and bloodier by the second? Regret, for all the things he didn’t say out loud.  Or probably jealousy, for Fyodor’s ability to stab him without a single second thought. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to scream. He wanted to stand up, and stab Fedya himself, plant the knife deep into his chest. He wanted to make him suffer as well. He didn’t want to be alone.

And yet he did none of that. His cries gradually grew more and more silent, the crimson poodle beneath him staining the carpet. Nikolai laid there, holding his hands over his chest. Ultimately he got what he wanted... But it didn’t feel great. It was... sad. The drug he got so addicted to had finally taken away his life. _________ Fyodor silently came back a few hours later, standing over the lifeless body silently, an unreadable expression on his face. This was probably for the best right? Nikolai wanted to die anyways and... and he would get in the way of his plan either way, right? The plan he sacrificed so much for... This was just another necessary sacrifice, he shouldn’t feel bad about it. And yet he couldn’t look him in the eyes. The eyes that before looked at him with adoration were now looking into the void, dried tears sticking to the face he used to pepper with kisses.

Slowly he crouched down next to the now lifeless body, planting a last kiss on these cold lips, before standing up and turning away, eager to leave this chapter of his life behind. though he knew Nikolai’s love would haunt him till his own death. But perhaps, he didn’t mind it that much.

[englass]

Current three theories for our void soul piece are currently: Zero (strong contender bc she's taking a very similar role/vibe as Ardbert esp since she's taking a central role in the story), "Golbez" aka Durante (weaker, but it could work as a twist of "he has good intentions trying to save the world but look he's following the Ascians' actions"), or real-Golbez (trapped in the memoria, now sucked into Zeromus, will undoubtedly be playing a central role in 6.5, what glimpse we got of him he did have WoL-vibes the same as Zero and Durante). Time will tell, but I'll be excited either way.

To be honest, I’ll be super disappointed if it is Zero, but thankfully that doesn’t appear to be the case with what this latest patch gave us. The moment we got that first-person echo after touching the memoria, my mind was set on that trapped soul being ours. Which is further supported imo by the way the camera focuses on it being absorbed/consumed by Zeromus followed by what Zero says to Vrtra about souls being devoured by each other: how the soul persists within the devourer and the emotions/fears of those devoured souls can be inherited by the dominate soul. How, for all intents and purposes, they are still alive. Just in a state of limbo until they are either freed with their collective death or are somehow reawakened within the dominate host (implied in the way Zero says that Vrtra needs to call out to Azdaja).

Hell, it appears the whole reason Golbez fed Azdaja to Zeromus in the first place was to implant her hopes and dreams of seeing her world again into Zeromus. I guess to effectively give this living aether a purpose that it was solely lacking after Zodiark was defeated and his piece (and by extension his will comprising/containing it) in the 13th dissipated.

With that said…

I think we will get close enough to Zeromus to resonate with that trapped piece of our soul. Whether we connect with it and it becomes as a literal beacon in the dark within Zeromus, helping us to destroy/weaken him from the inside out; or we somehow manage to straight up take it from Zeromus outright, making our soul denser with its rejoining to us and therefore being better able to fight and withstand the darkness’s corruption — I think that’s how we’ll do it. That’s how we’ll win: our soul rejoining.

And truly — I really bloody hope that the real endgame, the true proper proper endgame, is us completely rejoining our ancient soul. So yeah, if this doesn’t end with us becoming 10/14 I will be very upset; but thankfully that appears to be where this is going (there is the possibility that the soul piece will reform itself if we free it tho which is what I’m kinda a bit concerned about…). It’s just a case of how at this point, but I think it’s one of the two ways I mentioned. As you said, the memoria is going to play a crucial role and I completely believe that this is its role.

But the above is merely my theory at any rate 🤷🏻‍♀️

[taschamonnii]

Imagine This  - Ceilings

Me X Fan-Fiction

Big Sad Mood

Summary: How it feels to only know fictional love

TW: Big Sad, Depression, lonelyness

Here is the title song: Ceilings Lizzy McAlpine

AN: I just discovered this song via TikTok and well it has altered my brain chemistry and taken over my mind so I had to write out the feelings. This hurted my feelings! What a way to start a Monday with a sad song and big sad lonely feelings the week of fucking valentines. Like fuck man!

I break my own heart all the time

Word Count: 1,003

Imagine This:

I stayed up late again just for you.

It kills me but I do it every single night. 

You’re worth it but only in the moment. You’re toxic as you flow through my veins and consume my mind. I don’t want to face the truth. I’m so hooked on you I can’t breathe and there is nothing that compares. You’re a drug of the most dangerous kind free and easy to access. You alter my reality and take me away from here. 

Ceilings, plaster

Can't you just make it move faster?

Lovely to be sitting here with you

You're kinda cute but it's raining harder

My shoes are now full of water

Lovely to be rained on with you

It's kinda cute but it's so short

Then you're drivin' me home

And I don't wanna leave

But I have to go

You kiss me in your car

And it feels like the start of a movie I've seen before

Before

You are so cute and it’s so easy to get lost in you. I can’t stop it from happening over and over. I let you tackle me each time I see your notifications on my phone.Each word pulls me in and I get lost in time and space. I don’t want it to end but it’s so short and I have to go. My alarm pulls me away from you and the day drags on until I can see you again. You consume my thoughts, there's no room for anyone else. 

I return to you and it's

Bedsheets, no clothes

Touch me like nobody else does

Lovely to just lay here with you

You're kinda cute and I would say all of this

But I don't wanna ruin the moment

Lovely to sit between comfort and chaos

But it's over

Then you're drivin' me home

And it kinda comes out as I get up to go

You kiss me in your car

And it feels like the start of a movie I've seen before

But it's not real

And you don't exist

And I can't recall the last time I was kissed

It hits me in the car

And it feels like the end of a movie I've seen before

Before

It’s not real… You don’t EXIST. You DON’T EXIST. YOU DON’T EXIST.

I collapse in a puddle of tears on the floor. You have my heart and there's nothing I can do. I have never been in love in reality but with you I have fallen thousands of times. I’m lonely and you’re always there at my fingertips. I fall in again and again knowing how it ends. Me alone in my room, feelings of despair and dread because I will never experience the things you offer. I read page after page story after story. I let them consume and change me. Now I know that no one will ever compare and why bother trying when I have you? You heal me but you cut me deeper. 

Another year and here I am again single by choice haven given up on the whole thing. Pink and Red have taken over every store. I feel the void in my heart harder and it makes me miss something I’ve never had. The void is filled for a little bit by their story of their love. 

And It’s so cute when they kiss and I lose myself in the words. They are so soft and I don’t know what it feels like to be touched so tenderly. They are happy in a way I have never known. Sweeter than any candy they rot my teeth. They are everything but it’s too short it's over. I don’t want to leave but I have to go. The ending hits me. I’ve seen this movie a million times before. I am left alone in my room. Another cut gets added to my shredded heart. Tears run down my face left with a lonely ache deep in my soul. Time ticks on and I have to face the truth. Reality bites and I hate that I exist here. I feel lost as I move through the motions of each day surviving one day after another with no point and no purpose. I ache for a home that doesn’t exist for a person who isn’t real. 

It’s not real and you don’t exist and I can’t recall the last time I was kissed and it hits me in the car. The tears fall and I know I’m losing it but I don’t care because you are all I want. The rain hits the windshield harder and I can feel my tears soaking my shirt. 

The last time I tried I knew it was going to be the last. She didn’t feel like you, she didn’t compare and I felt nothing and I feel even worse knowing she had feelings for me that I couldn’t reciprocate. She kissed me as I walked her to her car but I thought of your lips. She held me but it wasn’t soft and I let things escalate. I felt numb even as my body reacted to her touch. I had to fake it so it would end. I wanted to cry and she wanted more. I hate myself because my heart is not mine and I have given her hope. We talk and I become distant and shut down because nothing feels right, nothing feels like you. AND it’s all your fault that I can’t connect. I feel nothing for real people and you are to blame. 

I try to stop but a notification pulls me back to you and I get lost again without a second thought. I fall into the familiar scene where the character I know and love comes to life and I disappear completely. For a moment I don’t exist but you do and I try everything I can to stay there but it’s so short and it’s over it’s not real and you don’t exist but I do. 

AN: Sometimes I am good at being alone. I take myself on dates and take care of myself and it is more than enough and then sometimes I am so lonely and sad and desperate for what my favorite fictional characters have. I have never been in love. Valentine's day has always sucked even with a partner because my heart belongs to so many fictional characters that there is no room for real people. I hope that if this time of year is hard for you too that you find comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone. I am chronically single and determined to stay that way and even though I am okay with that and have come to terms with it I still struggle knowing I won’t ever have any of the love that I read and write for fictional people who don’t exist. 

[merlindoodleshop]

Random Thought - AI Art Commissioners

So, I haven't seen this yet, at least now how it reads out. I haven't see anyone paying for AI generated art yet. But I have noticed a.... small trend. Not gonna name names here but there's been a few art galleries, usually over on sites like FA, DA, maybe Newgrounds and Pixiv that are, just galleries of commissioned art work. That's fine, dandy, it's actually a great way to show off work you have commissioned for your characters and maybe helps spread the word of the artist in question.

But the trend I'm starting to see is that, some of these Commissioners are messing around with AI art. Not a lot to the point I think it's time to panic but these are people who are probably most in touch with how the commission to art pipeline works. Some of these people have like hundreds of pictures of their characters, and are basically the famed "Furry Sugar Daddy" we see people joke about... though it's not always a Furry thing.

And I just have to ask, or muse into the void; why? Why would they do this? Apparently they've been more than happy with commissioning before; heck some of them commission so much I used to think a character used to belong to that artist rather than the Commissioner themselves. So I would think they like the artist or the style they keep getting pictures from.

But then when you check their galleries, you see a couple handful of AI art they made themselves. Of verifying quality. And I just have to muse what happens if they just decide to go full on AI art?

Okay okay I get it "AI taking our jobs" bit, we've heard it before and will continue to hear it as it IS something to talk about, but usually when I see people pushing AI art it's the lazy artists, the AI coders or people that just see art as basically tictaks. Consume enjoy, move on. Churn it out as fast as possible, get me?

But Commissioners starting to do it? Again some of these people have been doing it for years and have a library of artwork for their characters. I would think for some of them, that connecting with their favorite artist would prevent leaning into AI art or simply having had so many commissions done would have informed them to how hard it is to be an artist.

I dunno, I'm babbling at this point; it's just, if some of the bigger supporters of online artists start going towards AI art to fill their galleries, what's the hope for other people to pay for it either?

Shrug, again I don't know, it's just an odd thing I've seen. I'll be more worried if I see this more of these Commissioner galleries swap but kinda wanted to get that out of the way now.

I'll keep doing my doodles though.

[damnation-if]

I would love to hear you rant about dnd demon cosmology 👀 what potential do you see? You seem to be really good at cool concepts (i.e. the game), soooo what about for dnd?

oh dear... you've activated my trap card XD the question of what potential i see in d&d's cosmology is almost too broad in a way because. they do literally nothing with it. the vast majority of players don't know a thing about it - some might know small parts, from perhaps a book where it came up, a popular podcast that touched on it, or maybe a DM that fell down a rabbithole. but it's IMMENSELY difficult to really put together a proper picture of why the fuck the entire universe of d&d... Is.

i know a shit-tonne more than most people and even my knowledge is largely confined to some of the outer planes, specifically the evil-aligned ones. i couldn't tell you shit about the half-dozen good- or neutral-aligned ones and how they came about, and wizards of the coast doesn't seem even vaguely interested in helping anyone find anything out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this, to my abject and utter disbelief, extends to the PEOPLE WRITING OFFICIAL FORGOTTEN-REALMS-COMPLIANT CONTENT. meaning that wizards is putting out campaigns and content via official licensing that break or make NO sense within their own canon.

i'm going to put a cut here because be warned... this WILL get long. i'm going to explain... briefly-ish... about the Abyss and some aspects of the Hells, and then i'm going to talk about... briefly-ish... what an absolute TRAVESTY Out Of The Abyss was, lore-wise, and hopefully illustrate how wizards are wasting the potential that exists by NEVER EXPLAINING ANYTHING. (spoilers for Out Of The Abyss also)

okay, whew. rapid-fire. i can do this. briefly.

there's a guy, a god, named Tharizdun - you might know him from some books - and he wasn't always evil or mad. originally he was pretty put together but he liked knowing Stuff and Things so he basically built the equivalent of a telescope to look into the realm of Chaos that existed beyond the known planes. in d&d cosmology, chaos is a force in and of itself that acts as a counter to law; chaos springs up naturally in places like a vacuum or void whereas most physical planes tend to collect law in kinda the same way planets collect an atmosphere.

however, Chaos is different to Entropy. entropy, like in real life, is the force that's eventually going to implode the universe and cause the opposite of the Big Bang (they call it the Big Crunch lmfao). maybe. physicists go back and forth on this but in d&d it's more set. eventually, every plane will be consumed by Entropy and everything will End. (this is expanded on a lot in Starfinder, a scifi sequel of sorts to Pathfinder.) the closest thing to beings aligned with Entropy are the Great Old Ones, your Hasturs and Shub-Nigguraths and Cthulhus... it's why 5e Great Old One Warlock is entirely separate to Fiend Warlock. different guys, different power sources

so anyway Tharizdun built himself a telescope into the Chaos beyond the planes and he found out there were people! living out there! people made of Chaos! and one of them was a sexy tentacle lady! surely her intentions are nothing but pure!! this can't possibly go wrong!!! sorry buddy... try meeting sexy tentacle ladies on your own plane next time

the Queen of Chaos, Tharizdun's new internet girlfriend, was an elder type of demon called an obyrith, who are now the least common type of demon and rarely ever come up in official material at all despite being OBJECTIVELY WAY COOLER than the younger tanar'ri. the vast majority of obyrith are so otherworldly and alien that simply looking upon them is enough to drive mortals mad. knowledge of their names is enough in some cases. whereas the tanar'ri are mostly just mean or gross dudes

unfortunately for Tharizdun, he wasn't immune either, and his telescope relationship with the tentacle lady from the black void started to rot his mind, which was probably supremely awkward for his friends. she was trying to cajole him to let the demons into the plane he lived on, partially because demons like fucking shit up and partially because the swirling chaos void had no protections against the encroach of Entropy and none of the demons wanted to get Eaten.

eventually, between his madness and his desire to meet up with her in meatspace, as 'twere, he was persuaded not to let the demons into his plane, but create one for them to move into, called the Abyss. the demons said "great! we'll pack our bags" figuring that once inside they could just use plane shift to hop over to wherever (plane shift only works if you're On A Plane lmfao) but Tharizdun had the presence of mind to basically build into the Abyss a secret rule that prevented creatures of pure chaos from leaving it. it worked perfectly from his point-of-view - he'd just pop over for a booty call whenever he wanted, and also he doesn't get bitched out by the other gods for letting lowly chaos people into the plane.

the demons. did not take getting tricked well. Tharizdun is currently imprisoned in a layer of the Abyss, frozen eternally.

however, in the brief time before the demons figured out they'd been had, the Queen of Chaos conceived a child with Tharizdun, everybody's favourite 2-baboon-headed badboy, Demogorgon. this is why he's often called the first of the tanar'ri, because he was the first demon born in a physical plane - but he's not REALLY a demon, he's half-god. which is why He and Only He can plane shift (this will be important later). the next guy who is maybe more accurately the first of the tanar'ri is Graz'zt, who was Built by his obyrith mother Pale Night who basically went "eh, screw giving birth, i'm just gonna Make A Guy" but Graz'zt also sort of doesn't count. so. who knows who's really First

the obyrith didn't fare great being in a physical plane for the first time ever so these new demons who didn't need to adjust quickly eclipsed them in power. to this day, Demogorgon and Graz'zt are the two currently most powerful demon lords with any sense of style behind them - the third guy who competes with them is Orcus, who is important purely because he is some writer's Evil Wizard OC, Do Not Stial, and no other reason. i shrimply do not have the time to get into Orcus right now LMAO

the two big boys started beating down the obyrith who wanted to bring them down a peg or two, most notably Obox-ob the former Prince of Demons, who is like. the coolest guy EVER by concept and TOTALLY WASTED, and the Queen of Chaos, who wanted her new boyfriend (she moved on quickly) The Wolf-Spider (i don't know anything about him? he could just be a spider. i Do Not Know) to be the new ruler, and all-out war basically broke out between camps of demons fighting each other.

a bunch of gods saw this and were like "okay, perfect! kill them while they're distracted" and sent a bunch of angels and other powerful celestials to the Abyss led by Archangel Asmodeus (yes, really. yes, THAT Asmodeus). the demons rallied against their common Snooty enemy, and the war turned to angels vs demons. so, how did the powerful archangel turn into the Prince of Hells we all know? well...

he met a guy, who looked Mostly like an angel (probably fine, don't worry about that Asmodeus), called Pazuzu, who was muscular and hot and Asmodeus liked him A Lot. A Lot.

Pazuzu was an obyrith, and he literally Seduced Asmodeus to the Dark Side lmfao. YES, REALLY. that's really canon!! and Nobody knows about it XD that's how devils started! they're just angels!! Pazuzu and Asmodeus are still on good terms!! please for the love of god wizards. do something with Any of this!!!

anyway, that's the Basic history (yes, basic. i know, i'm sorry lmfao). for a perfect explanation of why wizards is wasting All Of This, let's look at a campaign module called Out Of The Abyss, which touted itself as an exploration of the Abyss and its lore. it LIED, believe me. i was SO excited by the concept of Out Of The Abyss, but it disappointed me on SO many levels.

the writer, who i don't personally blame of course, seems to have been given a list of names of demon lords, not been able to do Any research, and just been told "make them all fight in the end." the basic premise is that Lolth, who exists lore-wise purely through the power of boobies. tricks a guy into summoning 8 demon lords to the Prime Material Plane. this would be an Extinction Level Event if it took place within any reality even vaguely resembling proper Forgotten Realms canon.

but for whatever reason, they all instead just sit there twiddling their thumbs (grossly out of character for all 8 that are involved), except for Demogorgon, who... rampages around the Underdark stomping on people because he wants to go home. Demogorgon. who can Canonically. Plane Shift. Canonically. so he doesn't do so for NO reason.

Graz'zt fucking VANISHES, literally isn't MENTIONED, for the entire campaign. the guy who has the biggest cult following out of all of them and the largest power base In the Prime Material Plane? he's just sitting in a closet somewhere i guess. he's got nothing worth doing. what is he, some kind of masterful demon schemer looking for a leg up on his age-old enemy?? haha no... closet time

and what's EVEN WORSE is that none of the demon lords left back in the Abyss DO ANYTHING during their absence. Obox-ob, who swore vengeance against Demogorgon and that he would get his throne back AT ANY COST, is just kicking rocks for the MULTIPLE YEARS the campaign can take place over. doing nothing. Queen of Chaos and the Wolf-Spider? same. she doesn't take the opportunity to try and free her boyfriend from Demogorgon's prisons cos. it would be rude i guess? every demon politely sits there waiting for the mortals to sort things out, because if there's one thing we know about demons, it's how orderly they are! even Lolth, who supposedly did this in an attempt to gain power? doesn't?? do anything?????

-the CRs for these demon lords in the big fight at the end are also WILDLY out of canon alignment with previously used CRs for other demon lords. so completely bonkers i can't even get into it or i'll Never stop-

imagine how cool it could have been if this event that should have impacted huge amounts of story, shaken up the ENTIRE political structure of the Abyss, brought the obyrith back to the fore, forced the gods to finally REALLY confront the fact that Graz'zt and Lolth each have a worship count that rivals their own, explored Demogorgon's half-divine nature, explained the Link (and subsequent Rift) between the Abyss and the Hells, really examined what it means for a demon lord to be so powerful as to possibly become a kind of god.

but no. everybody just sits there in a t-pose until the players push all the buttons to make it go away. why actually do anything Interesting

shortly after (i think?) presumably as a result of what a wet fart of a story this campaign turned out to be, they had Lolth leave the Abyss and become affiliated with an evil god plane. and that's It. it wasn't in a story. they just changed A Word on her wiki entry. that's it

so yeah... hopefully that conveys why i feel the way i do about wasted story potential lmfao. on the extremely unlikely chance that you read all the way to here, thanks for sticking with me. i love to talk about things i'm passionate about... and this one's pretty complicated (hence the wordcount). sorry<3

[mc-i-r]

Dark, dark, dark

A/N: so I wrote this for my lovely friend @whattheremus for Christmas and it's kinda grown on me and I thought I'd share :)

Characters: Roman, Virgil

Relationship: platonic prinxiety (or romantic if you want)

Tw: fear of the dark, shadows, death mention, graphic descriptions of death, panic attack, hallucinations, momentary loss of speech (Roman can't talk for a bit), cursing

Word count: 3,576

---

Since the beginning, darkness has been the bringer of evil. Creatures and creations thrive in the dark, waiting in the shadows for the right time to pounce. They're always hungry, always watching and waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake, so they can have you all to themselves. The darkness doesn't care who or what you are. It doesn't care how old you are or where you're at.

All it cares about is you.

It's this same all-consuming darkness that fills every crevasse of his room, every inch of the grand bedroom was shrouded in shadow.

A bump. A crash. A rustle in the darkness.

The jerk of bedsheets. The bated breath of fear.

Roman now stared out into the darkness, eyes wide and unseeing against the pitch black of the room.

No.. no no this can't be happening-

His nightlight must have died again. Damn, he really needed to get a new one.

Dark dark dark it's too dark too dark, flooded his brain.

Curling up in his bed, he kept his eyes open, unable to ignore the looming threat slowly creeping closer. He could feel the pressure building building building, getting closer closer closer. He could feel the icy breath against his skin, and the jagged edge of darkness slicing through his flesh.

Shapes moved in the corners, hands grabbed at him from the floor. He could have sworn he saw eyes staring at him. White, dangerous eyes that bore straight through his soul and sent a shiver of pure ice down his spine. Everywhere he looked it was dark dark dark...

It was so dark.

The hands got closer, the ice got colder, and shadows grew thicker. They were touching him, choking him, suffocating him and he couldn't do anything about it.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to scream and yell and beg for mercy because he didn't know how much longer his body could stand it, how much longer his mind could stand it. His mouth opened, ready to scream-

A whimper.

A choked, cut-off whimper was all that came out. He tasted salt and saliva on his tongue, soon mixing with the blood pouring out of the indention being made by his teeth in his cheek.

He felt the hands around his neck, the hands grabbing at every inch of his body until it didn't feel like his body anymore. The darkness was violating him, consuming him, eating him alive. It was winning, after all this time it was finally winning.

And Roman could do nothing but watch.

Watch as the hands clouded his vision. Watched as the swirly inkyness of the darkness filled his senses until his mind could only chant dark dark dark. Watched as the cold fog of his breath slowly disappeared and all that was left was black.

Black.

Black..

Black...

Well, there was a reason he always wore white.

His lungs felt strained against his ribcage, too full but not full enough. He tried to breathe, tried to take a breath of that cold cold cold air. He tried to swallow, tried to wet his mouth and move his tongue. Tried to blink away the tears that formed from staring too long. Tried to strain his ears to listen for footsteps, for signs of help.

All he could do was sit. His lungs stopped working, his throat refused to swallow, his tongue refused to move. His eyes remained glued open, staring staring staring into the abyss. Around him was looming silence. Suffocating silence. There was no sound. It was a pure void, no breath, no creaks, no static, no nothing. Just...

Silence.

It felt wrong. The Mindscape was always buzzing with noise; the faint murmur of conversations, the gibberish on the tv, the boiling of water in the kettle or the scrape of a chair against the floor. There was always noise, always sound. Even at the dead of night it was loud. The refrigerator buzzing, the dishwasher humming, the washing machine thumping, or the muffled beat of music through a certain purple door. There was never silence, never quiet.

Immediately, he wanted to fill that silence.

He needed help. He needed someone to find him. He can't... He can't do this on his own, he's too weak.

Weak... Weak... Weak...

He was always the weak one, wasn't he?

He was the figment scared of the dark, scared of what's in the dark and it scared him so bad he couldn't breathe.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Right, he needed to breathe.

He just needed to focus on- what was that?

A shadow moved. A shadow moved. It crept closer. And closer. And closer. It's tendril-like fingers curled in a claw-like form waiting to rip him to shreds. It's coming coming coming. He can't escape. He can't call for help, can't fight back, can't do anything.

So he waits.

Waits for the ice cold daggers to bore into his skin. Waits for the claws to dig on either side of his trachea, cutting off all air supply. Waits for the numbness to spread along his body as he slowly loses consciousness. He waits. And waits. And waits.

A warm hand on his knee. The soft 'click' of the lamp. Roman can see the warmth of light behind his eyelids- wait, when did he close his eyes?

"Princey? Can you hear me?"

Is that..? No, it can't be- can it?

He nods his head in a jerky motion and feels the warm warm warm hand leave his knee. He tried to whimper at the loss of heat but it only came out as an exhale.

"Okay, thats,,, that's good. Um, can you speak?" He asked hesitantly.

Roman opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. No matter how much he pushed, how much he willed his vocal cords to vibrate and his tongue to work, nothing happened. He closed his mouth and pressed his lips in a thin line, jaw clenching. He settled on shaking his head.

"No? You can't speak?" Virgil asked. A nod. "Okay, thank you for telling me. Er- letting me know. Can,, can you open your eyes?"

Roman didn't know. Was it safe? Was that thing still in here? What if Virgil wasn't real and it's just the shadows playing games with him? What if he's already unconscious and this is just a dream?

Some cruel dream.

"Hey hey none of that. I can practically hear you thinking. I'm real, Princey, I'm right here. Is it okay if I touch you?"

His nod shouldn't have been that quick.

Still, Virgil didn't hesitate to put his hand back on his knee, this time rubbing small circles with his thumb.

"Ro, can you open your eyes for me?" Virgil's voice sounded so small. So... Tired.

Oh yeah, it was the middle of the night. And he just woke Virgil up with his senseless panicking.

Great.

He nodded his head and pried his eyes open. He was met with a slightly disheveled looking Virgil; hair rumpled from sleep, clothes wrinkled, and eyeshadow missing. Were those,,, freckles?

Not now, Roman.

Roman slowly looked up and met his eyes. They were bright and alert, almost as if it was midday and he's been awake for hours. They were filled with concern and worry, his brow creased with the latter, and he instantly felt calm. He blinked once. Twice. Three times.

His eyes were working now.

"Can you name five things you can see? Or- well, point to them if you can't speak," Virgil asked and, bless him, he's acting way too patient with him. It's almost enough to make him believe he cares. Roman only nodded and proceeded to look around.

He spotted the lamp on his bedside table and pointed to it, earning a 'good' from Virgil. He looked around and pointed to the window, his desk, the bed, and Virgil. He looked over to the far right corner of his room where a hanging plant had fallen, scattering leaves and dirt all over his floor.

Huh.. so that must have been what the bump was about.

Virgil squeezed his knee.

"Good, you're doing good. Now, four things you can touch?"

Roman's hand hesitantly rested on the sheets, trembling and shaky. Was he really that scared?

"Sheets?" Virgil asked quietly. Roman nodded, and moved his hand to his pants. "Pants?"

Another nod. A shaky inhale. His hand moved to his chest.

"Shirt?" A nod. "Good, okay one more, Ro."

His hand slowly slowly slowly reached out for Virgil. It hovered just above the emo's own hand, shaking against the possibilities. What if this wasn't real? What if Virgil's not here and as soon as he touches him he'll disappear into a cloud of smoke and the light will go out and he'll be left alone alone alone-

Warm on his hand. His head jerked down, eyes landing on where Virgil's hand was now intertwined with his, thumb rubbing against his knuckles. He lifted his gaze and met Virgil's oh so kind eyes, the purple and green looking soft in the warm light of the lamp. He still looked concerned but he had calmed down a bit, now only focused on Roman.

But hadn't Roman been the center of attention for long enough?

Didn't he,,, didn't he deserve to be scared? For all the hurt, all the pain he caused? Is still causing? Shouldn't he be forced to deal with this by himself? He did so many bad things to so many good people.

Didn't he deserve a little bit of hurt?

The husky voice of a sleepy Virgil caught his attention, bringing his mind away from his thoughts.

"Did I lose you there, Princey?" Virgil whispered, tapping his hand a little bit to help ground him. A small nod was all he received, along with Roman recoiling slightly. "No no don't do that, it's okay. I'm not mad at you for spacing out, Ro."

The wave of disbelief shouldn't have hit him that hard.

Apparently it had shown, as Virgil's face instantly fell and his body jerked forward as if he wanted to give him a hug but stopped himself.

Roman should have known he wasn't worth it.

.. It still hurt though.

"Prin- Roman... You don't believe me, do you?" Roman didn't like how hollow his voice sounded. Virgil should never sound that hollow.

A small shake of a head.

"Oh, Ro... Okay. Okay um,, do you believe me when I say I'm not going to hurt you?"

A hesitant nod. A sigh of relief.

"Okay, that's good. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm here to help. I felt your anxiety about something from my room and I decided to come check it out. No no it's not your fault, come back here," he explained, pulling Roman closer by the hand as he tried to shy away again. "Do you think you can continue the exercise?"

A nod.

"Okay three things you can hear?"

Roman reached out a hand to tap Virgil's chest.

"Me?"

A nod. A nod in return.

Roman pointed to the window where trees rustled in the distance, lit up only by the faint light of the moon.

"Wind? Do you hear the wind?"

Another nod.

Roman paused, listening. He strained his ears, tried to listen for something something something.

Nothing could frown out the noise in his head.

Dark dark dark

Weak weak weak

Help me

Help me

Help me

He lifted his hand to tap against his skull.

"Your head? What do you me- do you mean the voices? Are there voices in your head Princey?"

A nod. Roman looked away from Virgil, choosing to look at the blanket below him.

"What are they saying, Ro? How can I stop them?"

A shake of his head.

"No as in you don't know how or no as in you can't?"

A nod.

"... Both?"

Another nod.

"Okay... Um.. okay two things you can smell?"

Roman lifted the blanket, burying his nose in the fluffy fabric and breathing in. It smelled like warm vanilla with a hint of strawberries. It had always smelled like this for as long as he could remember. It was his favorite blanket, one gifted to him by- well, Virgil actually. He had thrown it at him on his birthday, mumbling a quiet 'happy birthday, Princey' before he had nudged his shoulder and shuffled out of the room.

That was four years ago now, shortly after Virgil was first accepted. Used to, it would bring up memories, painful memories that Roman only dared to think back to when he needed to remind himself how much of a screw up he was. But looking at it now, looking at how far Virgil has come... It filled Roman with pride. Seeing him go from the shy, anxious, introverted side to the openly kind, caring, and snarky one now sitting on his bed trying to calm him down.

Roman couldn't think he had ever met such a brave person before.

"Okay, your blanket? Wait, isn't that…" Virgil paused, taking a moment to fully register the blanket.

"You kept it?" Virgil whispered out. If Roman was looking hard enough, he would notice that the corners of his mouth were slightly turned up into a barely-there smile.

Not that he was looking, of course.

He nodded and pulled the blanket more in his lap, smiling at how Virgil let out a huff of laughter before rubbing the back of his neck.

"I didn't think you'd keep it, if I was being honest. Thought you'd just kept it in your closet or something."

Roman shook his head almost frantically, hugging the blanket closer to his chest. He opened his mouth, trying to push out the words of "it's my favorite because it reminds me of you" or "I keep it in here so I know it's safe" but nothing comes out. He huffs and tries again. Nothing.

A soft hand finds his in the fluff of the blanket and Romans eyes snap forward.

"It's okay it's okay, I get it now. You like the blanket. It's okay. I'm glad you like it," he said with a smile, his sentence trailing off at the end as he looked down to their once again intertwined hands. "Can you name one more thing you can smell?"

Roman carefully untangled his hand from Virgils where it sat on his knee and tapped Virgil's chest, earning a raised eyebrow in return.

"Me?"

A nod.

The smell of black coffee and chocolate icing. It was one that Roman could never get used to and he didn't think he ever could. It was so distinct, two rich scents mixing into one. It was so very much Virgil that it was hard to ignore. He absolutely adored it.

I guess it's good that vanilla and chocolate go well together.

"Huh.. okay we're definitely coming back to that later- One last thing, something you can taste?"

Salt.

Roman tapped his eyes with his finger before looking down at their hands again, finding comfort in the foreign yet familiar gesture.

"Eyes? No, that's weird. Um, what do yo- oh.... Tears."

A final nod. Virgil grabbed his free hand with his own, now holding both of his hands and resting them against the soft blanket.

"Do you think you can speak now? Or try to, at least?"

Virgil was so soft with him, so sweet and careful and oh so caring. It made Roman want to explode. It made him want to scream and wail and cry and shake because he knew he didn't deserve this softness. He didn't deserve this kindness being given to him so freely.

But Roman wanted to try. He wanted to earn that kindness, wanted to work up to the point where simple actions such as these were normal. He wanted to get better, wanted to be better.

And maybe this was how he started.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the words words words in his brain before opening his mouth.

"I-i'm sorry.."

It was barely a whisper, more of a croak, but it was words. He opened his eyes to see Virgil looking at him with- shock??

"Princey... What the fuck do you have to be sorry for?"

".. I woke... Woke you up-"

"No, you didn't. I woke up because of your anxiety."

"But thats-"

"Not the same thing. You can't control your anxiety, Ro. It just happens. You had no control over it and it wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"No, no buts. It's. Not. Your. Fault. Can you repeat after me please? It's not your fault."

"It's not your fault."

Virgil huffed out a laugh and swatted at his arm, causing the princely side to shyly smile.

"No- I mean say it for yourself, you smartass!"

"It's not my fault. It's not.. it's not my fault.."

"There you go. Are you feeling better now?" Virgil's fingers traced a few scars on his hands, one of them traveling up his forearm where his skin was littered with hundreds of tiny marks. Roman nodded and cleared his throat, coughing at the dryness.

"Yeah, I'm.. I'm better. Thank you, Virgil," he offered a small smile, earning a little smirk in return.

"Don't mention it, I was glad I could help."

There was a beat of silence where neither of them spoke, only the faint sound of fingertips against skin could be heard as Virgil kept tracing his scars. He didn't mind, he was just glad that someone actually enjoyed them.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"You just did"

"Well can I ask you something again then?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"What freaked you out earlier? Was it a nightmare?"

Roman froze from where he was picking at his blanket. His muscles tensed and Virgil must have noticed because he immediately backtracked.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, that was really insensitive of me of course you don't want to talk about it why would I pressure you into telling me that's really bad to do and I'm so sorry-"

Roman took a deep breath and placed his free hand over Virgils, bringing it slowly down from it's paused position in the air and curling his fingers around his.

"It's okay, Vi. It... It wasn't a nightmare"

"Okay. Wait then- what was it? Y-you don't have to answer though-!"

"It's okay, I... I want to. I need to. It's the only way I'll get better," he took a deep breath. "Do you remember in the episode 'Embarrassing Phases' when the lights went out?"

"Um... Yeah but what does that have to do with this?"

"Well, I'm... I-... um..."

"It's okay, take your time. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I- I have to. I have to tell you, it's the only way I can fix it. I just- need a second."

"I'll be right here."

Roman squeezed his hand in a silent thanks before taking a breath. How is he supposed to admit his greatest fear? How is he supposed to be the prince if he's scared of something so trivial as the dark? What if Virgil will think less of him after he tells him?

But... Virgil's better than that. He's accepting. He's learned to look through multiple perspectives, to see a story from both sides. He... He wouldn't judge him, not now.

He can always take a page out of Virgil's book. Rip it off like a bandaid.

"I-i'm scared of the dark."

A beat of silence.

"What?"

"I'm... I'm scared of the dark?" It came out as more of a question and Roman felt his ears turn pink with shame. He kept his eyes locked on the blanket, not daring to look away. To look up and see Virgil's face of disappointment, of disapproval. Or worse, of disgust.

"Ro, how long has this been going on?" Virgil asked. He sounded too soft, too hesitant, too... Careful.

Roman shrugged.

"How long?" Firmer. Pressing. Concern.

"Since we were kids.."

A sharp inhale.

"Kids!? Ro, we... I didn't know, i-"

"It's okay, Virgil. I didn't want you to know. I didn't want any of you to know. I still don't..."

"Wait is that- is that why you ask for the lamp to be on during movie nights?"

"Maybe..."

"And the hallway nightlights?"

"Yeah..."

"And the one in your room?"

"Yeah but… It died. The.. the bulb went out or or something, I dunno. I just- I woke up when that plant fell and it was pitch black. I-i couldn't see. I couldn't breathe. I-i couldn't move. It was suffocating, Virgil. It was consuming me and all I could do was sit there and watch-!!"

Warm hands on his face, thumbs gliding across his cheeks. Wetness under his eyes. Oh, he must've been crying.

How weak.

"Shh shh easy now, it's okay. It's gone, the darkness is gone. I'm here now, I'm right here. Breathe, Princey."

He took a breath, the warm air filling his lungs. It felt like forever ago when that warm air was icy cold and his lungs burned with each breath.

He ended up burying himself in Virgil's shoulder, only now realizing the stormcloud only had a t-shirt and loose boxers on. Virgil wrapped his arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer and rubbing his back. Roman sniffled occasionally, eventually wrapping his arms around Virgil's waist.

For the first time in years, he finally felt warm.

[inkykeiji]

hi clari! how do you think dabi would like to be comforted? we know this man has a baggage of traumas and i was quite curious. i think you'd end up picking up signs he's not okay, and try talk to him about it or distract him like making a movie night or convicing him to cuddle, because he wouldn't go to you for help, probably. he's just closed about emotions, so he copes by bottling up.

oh god anon u really out here tryna HURT ME HUH okay okay you’d definitely have to work up to it n he’d become more open as he becomes more comfortable to accept your comfort. once he realizes how NICE skinship with u is he starts seeking it out more, tho. UHHHHH fair warning this drabble turned into a lil bit of angst???? it was supposed to be sweet n cute butttttttt that’s just not how it turned out lmfao

TW: one mention of cum, uuuh some angst, it’s still kinda cute in an angsty way i guess??? idk dabi’s a closet Sad Boi™️ to me

words: 814

Something’s wrong, off—it has to be, because he isn’t acting right—you can see it in his walk, in the way he’s dragging his feet more than normal, boots scraping against the dusty hardwood; feel it in his eyes, navy darker than the depths of space itself, consuming everything their gaze lands on, sucking all of it in until there’s nothing left like voracious black holes; hear it in his voice, in the clipped tone he rarely ever uses with you.

At first, he resists. He doesn’t need your help, he spits, before you’re even done stuttering through your sentence, he doesn’t want it. There’s nothing wrong, leave him alone. So you back off, you give him space—maybe it was just a one-time thing, maybe he really is fine and you misread the signals.

But then it happens again, and he’s acting the exact same way, but worse. His shoulders are tense, back rigid, permanent scowl etched into his face with a glare that could kill on sight.

“You can’t do anything fucking right, can you?” he snaps at you for nearly nothing, almost no reason at all as you pass him in the moonlight illuminated hall, shoulder accidentally knocking against his as you keep timid eyes on your fuzzy slippers, sharp voice slicing through the air, slashing straight through your flesh, your heart.

But his harsh words don’t deter you, a soft rush of air escaping your parted lips in a gasp, wide eyes finding his. You don’t apologize. You don’t patronize, either, gaze full of sympathy but void of pity, staring at him in that steadfast, impenitent way that is so uniquely you, soft but never fearful, even though your voice quivers a little when you offer to watch a movie with him, ignoring his outburst entirely.

It’s what he loves and hates most about you.

It starts slow, as most things do with him. It starts with just sitting beside him and watching one of his favourite films, close enough that your thighs are pressed against one another, but not touching otherwise. And for a while, that’s enough for him. He’s quiet about it, doesn’t say anything when he walks into your tiny, shared living room and just throws on whatever he wants to before sitting down next to you, side pressed up tightly against yours.

And that’s okay, really, if that’s all he needs to feel better. You’re happy to help in any capacity, and giddiness bubbles in your chest at the thought. All you want is for him to feel better, for his face to relax again, for his vibrant eyes to become lidded and carefree, for his lips to quirk back up into that trademark smirk.

But eventually, as most things are with him, it isn’t enough.

Dabi’s greedy. He knows he is, latches onto you like a parasite the moment he realizes you make him feel better, even if he doesn’t know how or why. He doesn’t care, isn’t interested in finding out the reasons, isn’t ready to find out the reasons. Instead, he just takes, and takes, and takes, and you’re happy to give—eager to provide him with whatever he needs, anything to ease the torment on his face, even if it’s only for a few hours.

He feels like he can breathe again with you, when he’s around you, basking in your presence, ravenous eyes drinking in your light, your kindness, your very aura itself, breathing it in and letting it fill his lungs, heat his chest, flood his entire body with a warmth he’s never felt before. It’s new, it’s terrifying, it’s addicting.

It all progresses quickly, from old movies on that ratty couch to being trapped beneath his body on your bed, after he realizes how good it feels—how nice it is to have your hands in his hair, on his chest, on his thighs, down his pants; how nice it feels to have your lips pressed against his, little tongue battling his, inhaling your sweet breath and the pretty little sounds he manages to pull from you.

You don’t know what it is, this thing that’s hurting him so much, that’s tearing him up inside more and more frequently, that has him whimpering against you in the dead of night after he’s filled you with cum, little huffs of shuddering breath exhaled against your clammy skin as you silently coax him through it with tender touches and gentle kisses, but you decide that it’s none of your business either way. He’ll tell you when he’s ready to. For now, all you can do—the best thing for you to do—is to be there for him, to provide him with the quiet, unobtrusive love he so desperately craves, even if he isn’t exactly ready to admit it to himself yet. One day, he will. And when he does, he’ll thank you, too.

[tickle-bugs]

One of a Kind

@amazingmsme I didn't want to post the thing you sent just because of the minor minor spoilers (I hate that we've lost a grip on spoiler culture on the internet so I am overcorrecting to keep my blog safe!) but what you sent was too goddamn cute. Have an unedited thing I wrote in one go. This takes place in the nebulous, non-existent gap between episode 5 and 6! I still haven't see the finale so....this is canon-adjacent-adjacent I guess. Enjoy!

Spoilers for the Loki series under the cut!

Cataloguing variants had always been time-consuming, but somehow Loki was making it take longer. Mobius knew that Loki should’ve gone through his stack already, especially with his reading speed, but he was just staring at one particular file and huffing at increasing volumes.

Alright, I’ll bite.

“I’d ask what you’re thinking about, but I know you’re gonna tell me.” Mobius thumbed through his file on another Loki, one who’d defected from Thanos in 2012 to join the Avengers. They’d pruned him pretty early. Mobius still regretted not being able to pick his brain for a little while longer.

“These other variants are incredible,” Loki scoffed.

“I agree.”

“I don’t understand it.” He stared at Mobius, brow furrowed, and alright, they clearly weren’t getting any more work done.

“Lokis tend to be extraordinary. It’s kinda a thing with you guys.” Mobius slid his files aside.

“Right, but in comparison, I am at the lower end of the bunch.” Loki frowned, gesturing as if this was a matter of grave importance.

“Okay, you lost me.” He folded his hands on the table and squinted at Loki.

“We have an alligator, an illusionist whose powers dwarfed my own, a child who killed Thor, a President--though I can’t fathom wanting to be a part of the American political system--and an enchantress. Those are the variants that we know about. So why am I here helping you?”

“You’re the best of the bunch.” The simplest and truest answer. Loki didn’t seem to buy it.

Mobius dragged his chair around the table and put it in front of Loki, effectively pinning him against the table--well, he could just stand up and walk away, but Mobius knew he wouldn’t. It was part of their thing.

“What are you doing?”

“Just gettin’ closer.” Mobius slotted his knees between Loki’s and pulled his chair as far in as it could go.

“I can see that. Why?”

“I just wanna be close to you, that’s all.” He gave his best convincing grin. Loki visibly softened.

“Loki, you are a genius with a good heart. You’re here because you are, at least in my book, a hero.” Mobius gave his knee a steady pat. Loki puffed with pride.

“Go on.”

“Wow, you are on a perfect swinging scale of narcissism. From self-deprecating to king of the world in no time flat.” Mobius laughed.

“Thank you.” Loki adjusted his tie, missing or ignoring everything but the word ‘perfect’. Mobius bit his lip on a chuckle--he really shouldn’t inflate an already dangerously-large ego, but Loki needed it, he thought. His confidence was all air, after all--smug posturing designed to fill the void of something genuine. Loki could use genuine, for a change.

He looked Loki up and down slowly, deliberately, and an absurd little idea took root in the back of his mind. It had worked in the Time Cell, so maybe...

“Why are you looking at me like that? Wh--Mobius. Mobius. Stop it.” Loki leaned back as much as he could. Mobius grinned and hovered his fingers just over Loki’s torso, dangerously close. Loki sucked in his stomach, looking frantically between Mobius’s hands and his face.

“This r-really isn’t necessary.” The wobbly smile on Loki’s lips told Mobius the exact opposite.

“Nervous giggler, huh?” Mobius twitched his fingers and Loki jumped.

“No.”

“Perfect! Then you’ll hear what I have to say.” Mobius set his fingers adrift, passing languidly over Loki’s spots but never landing anywhere.

“Sylvie’s my favorite because she’s wild and unpredictable. I can never quite figure out what’s goin’ on in that head of hers, regardless of her being a Loki, and it fascinates me. You know I love my puzzles, and cracking open her head like a walnut has been a real highlight of my career.” Mobius’s fingers over Loki’s knee got the first giggles to bubble out, sweet and fluttery, and it took all of his strength not to chase them down.

“But you? You’re incredible. Quick wit, a quicker knife hand, and a will to survive that I haven’t seen in--” Mobius whistled lowly-- “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. Plus, you’re pretty cute. Or, so I’ve heard.”

“You had me wrapped around your finger when we brought you in. I mean, you could talk a desert into bloomin’.” It was the first time in a few thousand Loki’s that he’d genuinely almost been fooled--something about this one, his Loki, just got to him in a way that the others never could.

“I still have you around my finger.” Loki’s smile and rosy cheeks ignited a gentle warmth in Mobius’s chest. Gentle, rolling chuckles flowed steadily from him, walls completely broken down, and if Mobius could keep one memory forever, it would be this.

“Oh, and that laugh. I’m almost jealous. Literal music to my ears. Y’know, the other Loki’s never laughed like this? It was always this fake, snooty chuckle that used to make my skin crawl.

“But not you. You’ve got this damn beautiful giggle. It’s like the old saying goes: every time a Loki laughs, a puppy is born. Or angels get their wings. A little bit of both.” Mobius let his fingers drift upwards to Loki’s ribs and he whined, pitching forward until his forehead hit Mobius’s chest.

“T-That’s not a thing.” The color on Loki’s face had matured into a wonderful shade of cherry, his voice pinching from the sheer volume of emotion--Mobius could actually see him working through it in real time. Another favorite thing that he could never express aloud--how earnestly and easily Loki wore his emotions.

“He speaks!” Mobius swooped his hands in, never touching but threatening, and Loki yelped around some more giggles.

“Stop it.” Loki swiped at his hands, but even at close range, he couldn’t coordinate enough to catch Mobius.

“You’re right, my bad. It’s rude to keep you waiting.”

“Wh--no, nonono, that’s definitely not what I meant--”

“You make it so easy for me,” Mobius sighed wistfully, seeking out Loki’s trick rib as easy as breathing. Loki shrieked, crumpling in Mobius’s arms, and Mobius held him as he deftly took him apart.

“You are a Loki, alright? There’s no doubt about that. But you’re you, and I like ya. Stop worryin’ about the others.” He wormed his fingers under Loki’s arms, then spidered across the backs of his ribs and up towards his shoulders.

“M-Mobius!”

“Excellent point. You also have me. That’s a pretty big deal--I’m one of a kind, y’know. Limited edition. So there’s that.” His hands found solace beneath Loki's jaw, pulling forth jumpy squeaks between...purrs? Huh. He made a note of it as he scribbled his fingers up Loki’s thigh, dodging swatting hands like a stubborn bug. Loki pulled his knee up to his chest, head tilted back in open-mouthed laughter, and Mobius followed him.

“Who’s got an ego now?” Loki smirked, eyes crinkled, and Mobius summoned his best dramatic gasp.

“You take that back!”