#perpetual mourning posting

[martyrbat]

is this anything

[opaleyedprince]

i was inspired to make some ocs in this picrew!

aleksandr (fear and hunger: termina) || hokuto gojo (jjk) doll (elden ring/soulsborne) || donatello of the turks (ff7) sakuya kamo (jjk) || oneiros (hades game)

tagging @riikugan, @devilbrakers, @the-dark-urge, @strixhaven and YOU if you see this and want to do it - tag me so i can see!

divider is from here.

[meyhew]

“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”

I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.

Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.

All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.

One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.

Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.

Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.

Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3

Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.

If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.

I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.

This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.

Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍

—————

tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone

@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt

[astrophileous]

Derek getting jealous over Bug’s pregnancy pillow 🤭🤭🤭 he just doesn’t understand how it can be that much more comfortable than he would be. If Bug makes him snuggle with it post-pregnancy when she needs to sneak out from his arms during the night to check on the baby too? He wakes up like “????”

Nooo but can you imagine how EXASPERATED he is when Bug pulls out the pillow again when she's pregnant with their daughter/Baby Bug???? 😭😭😭

Btw so sorry for the delay, I was stressing FOR DAYS bcs my brain refused to cooperate and write (I think it's back to normal now so YAY)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Not this montrosity again."

Derek nearly whined at the sight of your pregnancy pillow; the one you had stored safely after the birth of your son, and the same one you had pulled out of its resting place now that you were in your second trimester with your daughter. It was a gift from a friend, and Derek was never a fan of it since the first time the pillow found its way into your shared bed.

"Don't say that." You put your palms on either side of the pillow, acting as if you were cupping its ears. "He might hear you."

"Great. So it's a he?!"

"Derek Morgan, you're not seriously jealous over a freaking pillow?"

"I have the right to be when you constantly choose to cuddle with it." You suppressed a giggle when you saw the daggers Derek was shooting its way. "I don't understand why you need the pillow when you have me."

"Because, as much as I love and adore your hard panes and muscles, I need something fluffy to get me sleeping comfortably through the night."

Derek scoffed loudly.

Who would've thought Derek would ever live to see the day he found himself mourning over the fact that he was fucking ripped?

Every night before the two of you went to bed, Derek never failed in throwing the dirtiest, nastiest look in the direction of said pregnancy pillow as if the inanimate object was singlehandedly responsible for ruining his entire life. Derek couldn't be more happy to get rid of it the moment you came home from the hospital with your daughter in your arms. Unfortunately, the man soon realized that getting rid of the offensive item might be a more challenging task than he had ever anticipated in the first place.

"Bug?" Derek mumbled blearily one night as he rose from the light sleep he had accidentally fallen under.

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed with you in his arms. Something about the lull of your voice and the familiar scent of your body wash had managed to make him drift into an unexpected slumber. Derek was putty whenever you were next to him, and he was perpetually alright with that knowledge if it meant he got to keep you constantly by his side.

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness as he stirred, squeezing your flesh wherever his arm could reach. But Derek realized a little too late in his half-awake state that the softness in his hand was, in fact, not you. And it took a few more seconds for him to turn on the bedside lamp to confirm that it wasn't you who was lying in his arms.

It was the fucking pillow.

Derek grabbed the object with utter disgust, stomping through the house until he found you in the nursery. You were sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your infant daughter in your arms, when you looked up at the sound of the door opening. Your head immediately threw back in laughter once you saw the look of contempt that Derek was aiming towards the pillow in his hand.

"What's wrong, Derek?"

"I woke up to this in my arms."

"Did you have a good sleep cuddling with the pillow?" You snickered, enjoying the way Derek's frown deepened with frustration. "I told you it's comfy."

Derek scowled at your cheeky wink, refusing to relent even if deep down he had also begrudgingly started to agree with that sentiment.

After that night, you never heard him threaten to throw out the pregnancy pillow, ever again.

[wandawxdow]

Masters of the Air fic recs

(*) = includes smut

gale ‘buck’ clevens x john ‘bucky’ egan

in london / on leave

bomber’s moon by moonrocks

in london, secret & established relationship, (*)

level-off manoeuvres by wormringers

together in london, (*)

dallas girls by hcneymooners

london, fluff and dash of angst

hurt/comfort & angst

good men die too / oh i’d rather be with you by moonrocks

grief/mourning, first kiss, injured!bucky

falling apart by cloudystars

post-mission hurt/comfort

Whatever Happens Tomorrow, We Had Today by MaShEd_Potat_os

angst, love confessions

a good dream by lilium

hurt/comfort, protective bf, 1x04 au

dear john by ForASecondThereWedWon

angst, love letters, 1x04, (*)

you’ll never be alone (i’ll be there for you) by tearsricochets

first kiss, pining, emotional hurt/comfort, 1x01-1x02

make you feel alive by signifier

emotional hurt/comfort, happy ending, presumed dead

it had to be you by MaShEd_Potat_os

post-war, angst with a happy ending, insecure!bucky

Another First by JoeyAlohaDream

(mild * mention), hurt!buck

stalag / imprisoned

greyspace by cloudystars

sick!bucky, protective!buck, hurt/comfort

night terrors by cloudystars

trauma, nightmares, hurt/comfort

I’ll Get By (As Long As I Have You) by JediRobertHogan

hurt/comfort, reunited

whatever you want me to do (i will do) by tkachukypls

angst, unrequited love, 1x07

scars by cloudystars

protective!bucky, fights, 1x07

You Put Your Arms Around Me (And I’m Home) by johnslittlespoon

fluff, sharing a bed, 1x07

Full Count by madeitsimple

angst and (*), 1x07-1x08, fights

judgement by the hounds by anonymous

1x08, hurt/comfort, fights, sharing a bed

Whatever you want me to do, I will do by Anonymous

john brady!centric, protective!buck & bucky

rainfall by switchgrassdevil

sick!buck, hurt/comfort, sharing a bed

I Won’t Rot by GrayFingers

hurt!bucky, protective!buck, injuries

Fluff + AUs

back home where you’re safe from, that’s the measure of a man by wolfhalls

established relationship, learning to dance, (*)

Reverie by Avonne

soulmate au (*)

the secret list of very serious (and sober) 100th’s rules by Amethyste_Blanche

fluff

Look The Other Way by Disastrous_Canasta

first meeting, fluff

all roads lead home by cloudystars

biker!au and abo!au, modern universe

A Kiss With A Fist by perpetualmotion

buck defends bucky’s honour

Love Tokens by perpetualmotion

gift giving

moonlight serenade by puffanities

abo!au, omega!bucky, alpha!buck, ongoing series

You and Me (5 Times) by stopstopstopit

various jokes about buck & bucky being married

any day now by tkachukypls

gift giving, bucky gives buck a puppy

Garden in My Heart by 13SapphireStars13

abo!au, omega!bucky, alpha!buck, courting

Smut - no Plot

A Suite at the Ritz by stillheremydear

secret relationship & sneaking around (*)

buck x bucky x curtis fics

I’ll be looking at the moon (but i’ll be seeing you) by moonrocks

1x03, grief/mourning

different but equal by Ikharys

fluff, pre-relationship, sharing beds

my hand was the one you reached for (all throughout the great war) by RavenOfRao

fluff, pre-relationship

A Brief Moment of Mourning by Perpetual Motion

angst, emotional hurt/comfort

First Meetings (and Punishments) by scaraheather

first meetings, pre-relationship

Both (*) by Ikharys

fluff and smut, sharing a bed

each man has got his classification (*) by mpix

smut, jealousy

Out of Reach by studies in subjunctive

unrequited love, (*)

The Long Way Home by livelaughlove_write

post-war, ptsd, love confession

x reader recs

jealous!buck request by @sansaorgana

jealous!buck request (2) by ↑

to the rescue (curtis biddick) by @sagesolsticewrites

with all my gratitude, hope and adoration, john (2) (3) by @buckysegan

twenty five (to life) by MissFreakingFortune

blurb (bucky egan) by @swiftiekisses

Hitchin’ A Ride by @pisupsala

girl dad!gale request by @sansaorgana

Because the Night by @gloryofroses19

Birdie by @jointherebellion215

amor aeternus series by @saturnville

agape (wattpad) by perxwxnkle

Are You Going My Way by pisupsala

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Recently read a post on social media from someone who shared that they don't understand why people complain about the lack of mourning for Tech in season 3, because in their opinion the depiction of grief was adequate, season 3 mentioned Tech several times, the squad are all soldiers and it had been 6 months so of course they've moved on, and what did we expect the squad to do, keep crying?

While I completely respect the person's opinion, I do feel the need to put out there that no, based on what I've seen, I highly doubt those of us who are dissatisfied with how Tech's apparent death was handled feel this way because the squad didn't completely fall apart and melt down in tears all the time.

Speaking for myself, at least, I wasn't expecting any of the brothers to have full-on conversations to work through their grief, and I certainly didn't expect waterworks from any of them (except maybe Wrecker, and he did shed some tears in the s2 finale).

I WAS hoping for something like "We're doing this for Tech" or "It's what Tech would have wanted" or even just a short scene of the entire family having a memorial for him. After all, real life soldiers DO honor their fallen brothers even if it's months after the battle, and even if they don't talk about their feelings or cry.

And given that the show has an EXCELLENT scene of one of those stoic soldiers actually honoring a fallen comrade (without talking or crying, I might add) and gaining some closure - Crosshair with Mayday's helmet - there is absolutely NO reason whatsoever why they couldn't have done something similar for Tech.

I didn't want season 3 to show the brothers perpetually stuck in mourning/grieving for Tech (which, ironically, is what the season pretty much ended up doing, and is precisely the reason why I find this aspect of the story to be so unsatisfying). I DID want season 3 to show the brothers healing from the loss of their brother, finding closure, and moving on to a point where they can openly honor and acknowledge him in meaningful ways, because Tech deserved at least that much from the family he had always loved and sacrificed for.

(For the record, while Tech has always been one of my favorites since day 1, if the show had killed off any of the other Bad Batch members and then handled their death the same way Tech's was handled, I'd be equally disappointed and dissatisfied. I don't think any of the Bad Batch needed to be killed off at all and I would have been devastated with any of their deaths; but if it "had" to be done, at the very least give them a Mayday moment!)

And in the end, this is just one of the major reasons why I'll be in the Tech Lives camp forever.

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind messages and comments ♥ you are so nice about my silly ramblings, I appreciate it a lot.

previously, on harrowsoup the ninth:

this happened

also I posted this and this as previews and this is the whole tag

currently, chapters 23-26:

"an atmosphere of greater unease had settled over the mithraeum"

aka the emperor's bolthole

btw, no kidding, harrow, I hadn't noticed the unease

so, harrow asks around about the herald situation

I have another deck with dragon heralds but I'm not gonna go on a card tangent this time (you're welcome)

everyone gives terrible and useless descriptions

emperor johnny boy says "Whenever they come I am bundled off to a sealed sanctum at the heart of the Mitrhaeum, so that their insanity can't touch me"

asshole coward awful man

harrobean is trying to ask why emperor asshat is so sure about her having to die and if there's no way she can make it

emperor johnny says yandere twin isn't that good at being a lyctor yet, even if she's surprising and that if he was still giving silly names, he'd name her "Saint of Awe"

harrow thinks "that had not quite suited Naberius"

get perpetually owned, chad

harrow also mentions not being able to remember things well

YOU THINK, HARROW?

"it was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you"

I don't think that scab is healing well

emperor johnny insists on the rapier

idk why they all insist on the rapier

gideon and camilla didn't like it and were the fucking best cavaliers ever

ARE, THEY ARE THE BEST CAVALIERS EVER

PRESENT TENSE

but anyway, at this point, it could very well be emperor johnbro has aesthetic demands

not like he'll explain anything

harrowbean sees not!dulcinea's door closed, which isn't usual

she second guesses a bit because she can't always trust what she sees and she remembers crux saying "you saw what you saw, Lady, and the only thing you control now is your reaction thereto"

I didn't like that old man, but that's pretty cool of him to say

harrow opens the door and sees this

alleged gideon the first aka ortus tells harrow to go away very calmly and in a way that is too nice for him, apparently

harrow is upset at the display in front of her salad and goes to complain to yandere twin

which is a terrible place to complain at because she's both into gossip and into kink

if you want someone to take this seriously, that's the last place to go to

"at least you know who's been moving her—so to speak"

this is what we get combining yandere twin and chad

I've used that gif twice for her already

I forgive her, though, because she says "god is a dickhead" and she's right

she also asks harrow to try to remember why emperor john god has given her the sword

and establishes that harrow previously did something to her jaw so that she couldn't tell her

that's going in the 3d model

CHAPTER 24

apparently people are being less mean to harrowbean because they're already mourning her

harrow says that alleged gideon the first aka ortus has the name ortus because "it was just a banal and uncomfortable coincidence, as though he'd carried the name of a dead childhood pet"

she believes that the name must have caught on in the ninth because anastasia must have like brought it in and named people after her pal

I think he's named gideon

and that our gideon is named after him because of direct relationship of some capacity, maybe to someone involved

I considered the mom, but it's uncertain

in any case, he has to die

so, harrow puts a lot of wards and safety things in her room

kind of like this

home alone styling it

but apparently alleged gideon the first aka ortus can bypass wards

much like the sleeper/waker

much like not!dulcinea

wards are basically pointless, I guess, at this point

so he goes into her bathroom when she's bathing because here in the emperor's bolthole, everyone's a disrespectful asshole

harrowbean says he's "a thanergy void" and "the ultimate nemesis of a bone adept"

he tries to kill her while she's looking like this

I want to give this child some cocoa and play a comfort movie for her, like "the bone collector"

she ended up using the teeth she lost in the fight as projectiles in his eyes and got him to leave

she ended up bloody, unmoving, wet, naked and collapsed on the ground to which yandere twin live reacted to and left

she could have given her a hand

or an arm

she decided alleged gideon had to die and ice cube barbie aka probably annabel lee agreed

when gideon was among us, there was not enough time for her to throw hands at people and here there's so many people she could be throwing hands at and she's not here to do so

camilla too, but camilla threw hands at martita in a way that was legendary enough

CHAPTER 25

harrow goes with the chisme to dr reverend professor emperor john

she says "I swear by the Locked Tomb"

to which he replies "I wouldn't swear by that in this instance"

which I sure hope doesn't mean anything nasty with my girl ice cube barbie annabel lee because I'm gonna kill this man

she might not be entirely alive (maybe she is, maybe she's just suspended or something) but she deserves better than this piece of work

then he says "well, that's unfortunate"

this man really knows how to handle a situation, huh

emperor john says that it's pretty unlikely that alleged gideon the first aka ortus was doing the dirty with not!dulcinea because he never showed interest before and is "legendarily unamorous"

that's another tshirt I need

I need that one and the witch one immediately

also, now we've got a problem

not just because my telenovela about how this man might or might not be related to our gideon got more convoluted

but also because if alleged gideon is aroace, I'm gonna have to stan

I don't make the rules over here, I have to stand by my people

I have a conflict of interest now

emperor john also says "you must think us all a depraved set of immortal criminals"

I mean yes, I do, but not because of sexy times with zombies

I'm not here to judge the sexytimes of necromancers and whatever they do in their spare time

I don't know the intricacies of consent with ghosts or whatever, I can't be imparting judgment

it's not that, emperor john

it's because you're unpleasant war criminals who are killing planets for fun

well, the war criminal part I don't have hard evidence on rn but the situation doesn't seem to be in the favor of these people

I feel like when this man talks about the overall situation I'm getting a speech from emperor palpatine

emperor reverend john asks harrow, who has been awake for 25 years, to go to sleep

yeah, sure, she should go to sleep and wait for this guy to come by and try to kill her for the millionth time

meanwhile, harrowbean keeps collecting hours without sleep like

she makes, at the request of emperor camp counselor john, soup for everyone

I don't remember if it was here or before and I forgot but, this is extremely important

they mentioned cassiopeia being the one who cooked before

cassiopeia the same one with the ceramics collection, if I'm remembering correctly

cassiopeia who was also from the sixth, I think

camilla's house

she's checking every single one of my boxes like a sniper

why isn't she here, we're stuck with the grumpy one and the senior chad

ANYWAY, at the mention of harrow cooking I thought, immediately, "that's an awesome way to kill this guy"

I was picturing more like a poison type situation, although I didn't know how that could be achieved

something like this

but I should have known poison was too subtle for harrowcita

like I established back when protozoa's head was found in her closet, subtle isn't harrow's style

so it was more like this

basically, harrow sectioned her tibia to put some in the soup and then she could necrobend it so that it attacked from the inside

if I'm getting it right

insane plan and I love it

emperor john shadyman says "ten thousand years since I've eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn't really want an encore."

were they snacking on people during the Resurrection???

did they kill people by making lunch?????

???????????????????????????????????????????

"you think we're bad because we have sexy times with ghoulies?? uwu" that's the least of my concerns johnny john man

harrow then breaks down and asks straight to his face WHY THE FUCK MUST SHE SUFFER LIKE THIS

she calls herself a nonsense

the only nonsense here is what this emperor man speaks

she tells him she hasn't slept in six days

for a sleep deprived plan, it was excellent tbh

emperor man over here asks yandere twin to take her to sleep

and then stays with mercygirl to whom he says it's insane that harrow could do what she did and how did mercygirl miss that

this is the situation, as I have previously established

augustine looks at harrow "as if he had seen the ghost of someone he did not particularly like"

alleged gideon the first aka ortus salutes her on her way out

he doesn't even have heartburn

CHAPTER 26

we're back on gideon-less canaan house because it's time for more people to die

in ways that make 0 sense at all for what we know so far

regina george twin is pushed to her death by mayonnaise uncle

sounds fake to me

like, come on

regina george twin can probably murder that feeble guy on sight

we saw her spar with gideon, she wanted to be the cav that chad ended up being

she might not be a necro but she can stand her ground in a physical fight

mayonnaise uncle without duracell bunny nephew is like a sweaty guy on an anime con complaining about girls ruining everything while buying a maid figurine

she can take him

anyway, he does that and he says to her "and somewhere out there, may all the blood of your blood suffer even a fraction of what I have suffered"

now, this is weird

is he talking about yandere twin?

he wants revenge because yandere twin obliterated him?

is yandere twin "out there"?

I'd say this might be limbo BUT CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD

harrow is going to him and he says "she has not remembered her end" "is this how it happens then?"

and then he yeeted himself into space

that's what I wanted to do with not!dulcinea all along

so, yeah, well, this canaan business is getting more complicated now that it's not just people being shot

people are throwing themselves and others into space

and the memories of harrow in the emperor's bolthole aren't completely lining up with these

and mayonnaise uncle seemed to have been more aware of things than others around here?? or maybe just more forthcoming??? in that cryptic otaku way of his

also, no camilla at all still

Things are heating up in the emperor's bolthole, hope to come back soon with another one and thanks for the patience, hope it was worth it.

[itslyssalala]

hello tumblr! i'm very nervous to post my doodles but i am very excited for veilguard and wanted to join in the community!

these are just some sketches of my planned Rook: she/her, perpetually tired mourn watch necromancer, weaknesses include sweets and dark-haired men (I can't decide between Lucanis and Davrin!)

[communist-ojou-sama]

In what fucking world is Nasrallah honorable? You wrote that post in bad faith.

Being the leader of a literal terrorist organization is not something that suddenly becomes okay just because another terror state assassinates him. He’s still a horrible atrocious monster of a person and even though an extremely disproportional amount of force was used to kill him, HE still deserved it.

And before you clap back with some accusatory bullshit, fuck Israel, I am not a supporter. I mourn for the innocent victims of their genocide; Nasrallah is not one of them.

That would.be because while the US was funding and arming ISIS to depose the secular legitimate government of Syria, the brave fighters of Hezbollah were fighting them and routed and destroyed them, saving the lives of countless Christians, Druze, Alawis, Yazidis, and indeed Muslims.

It's because when the Zionist Enemy waged a brutal and genocidal incursion upon Gaza with the aid of their USAmerican backers, the first people to come to the aid of the Izz al-Din al Qassam Brigades were the honorable fighters of Hezbollah with the Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah (may his name live in honor in perpetuity) at their helm.

Every single fighter and leader within Hezbollah has more honor, more courage, and more fortitude in their pinky toe than youve ever had throughout your entire life you worthless, cowardly, impotent Western leftist. History will remember you an accomplice of the genocidaires.

All glory to the Resistance and to the martyrs. Death to the Zionist Enemy and to it's USAmerican masters.

[martyrbat]

if there's one thing you gotta know about me is that im always going to reccomend the story perpetual mourning aka the first story in batman black and white 1996 like legitimately nothing else about me matters more than my intense insistence that everyone should read the short story perpetual mourning from the first issue of the comic batman black and white (1996) nothing matters more to me than being an advocate for everyone reading the first 8 pages of the 1996 comic batman black and white so they can experience the story perpetual mourning

[gender-alchemy]

There’s a thing I’d like to point out that I talked to my girlfriend about recently involving transandrophobia (or whatever u wanna call it, the stuff that specifically affects transmen by a significant margin). So first off I think it’s important to point out that transphobia is something ALL trans folks experience, and is something we should be fighting together, rather than infighting. Additionally, transmisogyny is always something to look out for and I want it to be clear that transmen 100% are capable of and DO perpetuate transmisogyny, often without even realizing it.

That said I wanted to talk about the things that are unique* to transmen so y’all who deny transandrophobia understand that there is, in fact, some trans things that transmasculine folks experience.

*this is not entirely accurate, as there are things here that affect intersex and transfems to some extent at all. Unique in this sense would be more like “primarily affecting”

Infantilization

Now this isn’t something that is exclusive to transmen, there are absolutely situations in which transwomen are infantilized, but the degree in which transmen are infantilized is honestly insane. This whole “uwu soft boi” thing that has plagued the transmasc community is a huge marker of it. It’s not a problem to be feminine or cutesy as a transman, but it is to constantly treat all transmen like that whether they want to be or not.

“Confused little girl”

This one honestly is top of the list for examples of transandrophobia by cis and trans people alike. It also tends to damage nonbinary or transmasculine folks even harder as often we don’t conform to gender stereotypes and binary which leads to being accused of appropriating transness. This needs to stop. If you want an example of this being used, literally every transphobic bill regarding healthcare mentions the “removal of perfectly healthy breasts” amongst other things that treat us like we aren’t aware of what we want simply because we were born female.

“ROGD” or the idea that trans friends are peer pressuring us

So this one is complicated. This is not something that is always unique to transmen. I had to chat with my gf for a bit about this to get her experience as a trans woman to understand exactly what causes this.

In a nutshell, we talked about how when you’re younger, AFAB folks tend to form really close circles in comparison to AMAB folks, especially in high school. What happens then is (as we know, us queer folks tend to travel in flocks lol) when one person in the group comes out as trans, in many cases, others do too. This is where people see a group of once female identifying folks suddenly “turn trans” and they “must be pressuring each other!” Which consistently dismisses their identities and often leads to these trans men being denied the ability to transition without intense scrutiny.

Other issues that are incredibly fucked up

Alright so I’m just gonna rapid fire a few other things to drive my point home, this post is pretty long.

- Forced pregnancies in order to detransition AFAB folks

- Mourning of transmens bodies (ex. “What do you mean you want top surgery your breasts are so nice!”)

[moodymisty]

(This isn't a request, just some Konrad daydreams driven by 4am insomnia that had me screeching and I just have to share with someone while I wait for my meds to kick in!!)

Your recent post about the stinky rat man got me thinking of something truly, hilariously awful: Konrad's favorite meow meow is a PERPETUAL.

Maybe he watches her die. Maybe he accidentally kills her himself. Whatever happens, he'd probably be losing. his. fucking. mind.

..And then she comes back. Oh god, I'm loving imagining at how truly deranged he would be over that. I know he tortures Vulkan SUPER HARD after finding out he's a perpetual, but that seemed driven a lot by "You think you're good and noble(and sane)? I'll drag you down to my level."

I wonder if he'd mistake her as some kind of phantom/delusion brought on by grief and madness at first. Extra comedy: he accidentally(purposely?) kills her again while freaking out over her showing back up alive LMAO. Meow meow can't catch a fuckin' break with this man.

Now I'm wondering how a few other primarchs would react to something similar though

Sanguinius and his sons in mourning and his dead wife just shows back up like "Why did you bury me alive?!" completely unaware she DIED.

Perturabo's shitass sons being like "I told you it was a waste of time!" and then the horror of realizing they didn't escape their step-mom after all.

I'd assume all the primarchs would try to find out what the fuck happened, and maybe go to Malcador for information once they start drawing blanks? Idk.

Fulgrim would so cute, just hyped as fuck. "I have a wife? That won't get old and die before me?? I don't have to lose this one???" Bonus points if she's the last one he was going to marry because he got too heartbroken seeing his wives get old and die over and over 😫 the queen and her corgis vibe forreal

I can't really figure out Mortarion even though he's one of my faves. On one hand, WITCH!! On the other hand,he'd be so relieved the One Good Thing in his life isn't actually gone forevet..

Oh my g o d. Lorgar. Thefucking goddess shit would go CRAZY. Kor Phaeron slamming his head against a wall because he thought he finally WON. HOW DID SHE DO THAT? Some of his followers getting spooked about being rid of her because s u r e l y it was the Powers who orchestrated such a miracle... So maybe she is meant to be here? Uh oh.

Guilliman is another one I'm just like ????. All I can think of, is he'd quietly go find Emps/Malcador and be like "whattheFUCK? explain?please?how?"

It might be because I'm heavily sedated but it's all sO funny to think about. Some legions quietly rejoicing because The Distraction is gone and shejust. Comes back 😭

But can you imagine the parties thrown by the ones who really loved their legion mothers?! And you thought theFUNERAL was extravagant..

Im not sure what time it is there but I hope you slept well and have a good morning! Sorry forcthis stream of consciousness garbage by theway LOL but you always have such cool takes on things I couldnt help muself

This a joy to read friend, I have nothing to add.

Lorgar in particular with a perpetual beloved would be fucking INSANE. His whole religious trauma would be going wild as well as even some of the more apprehensive Word Bearers might be a bit more, respectful.

Imaging Vulkan's wife ends up coming back a few weeks after they desperately mourned her loss, and it's time for the galaxy's largest hug. They form a line.

[nerdyenby]

Seasons one and early two are Lloyd being a kid and getting to be a brat sometimes.

Late season two through season seven are Lloyd being forced to grow up too quick and not allowing himself to process literally anything, devoting his entire being to becoming who destiny told him to be.

Seasons eight through ten are Lloyd having literally having all of his trauma shoved back in his face but worse. Not to mention his dead dad isn’t dead anymore, isn’t his dad anymore, and is trying to kill him, whilst 83% of his support system is presumed dead. Also the girl who emotionally abused him dies for realsies.

Seasons eleven through fifteen are Lloyd trying to figure out how to address all the shit he’s been through without letting it consume him. It’s him leaning on his friends, allowing himself to confide in others and finally acknowledging how much that stuff fucked him up. It’s him accepting that the world can be cruel and it’s him choosing to believe that people can still be good. It’s him learning to trust again, and it’s him allowing himself to feel his hurt while still finding a way to live in spite of it.

Crystallized is Lloyd giving up. Everything he has he loses, everyone he loves leaves — by choice or otherwise. Just like Kai, he internalizes this loss by rationalizing that he wasn’t good enough to save them. He walks away. He tries to live a normal life for a bit. It isn’t enough. He can’t not do anything. He can’t leave the family he’s found, the family that found him. No matter how much it hurts to lose them, he will never stop fighting to find them again. Even if he has to face everything he hates and fears about himself, even if he has to confront the man that was once his father, even if he has to willingly step into what he fears most — letting his anger and hurt consume him, becoming just another perpetuator of violence and loss — he will never stop fighting to protect those he loves. He can’t cross that line. He could if he wanted to, but he can’t and he never will, but loss of any kind is not something Lloyd is willing to take sitting down.

And then in the Merge, Lloyd loses everyone all over again. He’s entirely and undeniably alone for the first time in years, but why does it feel so familiar? He’s mourned so many loved ones so many times, but why does this feel so different? But he’s not alone, not entirely. The others could still be out there, and there are still people to be saved. Loss is an old friend of his, but she never sticks around. In spite of it all, Lloyd keeps living. He keeps fighting and he keeps loving. He stays isolated in the monastery, but the doors stay open. He’s learned to keep his heart open, even when heavy with loss. He continues to look for his family and he continues help people where he can. He remembers how lost he has been, how lost he once was, with nowhere and no one to call home, and he will never give up until no one is ever that alone ever again. Lloyd has lost so much, but he’s learned to never stop letting people in. Arin and Sora remind him so much of himself — two kids left to fend for themselves, no family to be found but each other, unnoticed by the world at large until their potentials show themselves — and there was never a world in which Lloyd didn’t take them in with open arms.

Was written in response to this post by @alizibtheterrible but it quickly got out of hand and I didn’t want to hijack their post lol

[verdemoun]

Ghhhhshh im so sorry bc im like. Pretty sure u made a post abt the callander boys pretty recently but.. If ur up to it can we get more on whqt u think of them?😋 i love them SOOO MUCHHH and the way u talk abt them is always so AWESOMEEEE

rubbing my grubby little mits together

The origins of my Mac and Davey Callander: their parents immigrated from Scotland when Mac was a wee toddler. Davey was later born in America. Mac had a completely normal childhood, went to school, and was well on his way to being just some guy when their father was killed in a wagon incident. He left school to look after Davey while their mother tried to find work. Being a woman, this was nearly impossible, and it wasn't long before their house knew the glow of a red lamp. A few months shy of Mac's 10th birthday, their mother also passed away (syphilis) and he was left orphaned and sole carer for a 4 year old Davey

Mac spent the next 3 years in a perpetual state of terror, selling what he could, stealing what he had to, chasing the pipe dream of giving Davey a normal life. Less than a year after their mom died, the landlord kicked them out. For Davey, their new life of camping out under the stars was another amazing adventure. Mac, in contrast, was so stressed his hair fell out in chunks and the only time he slept was when he collapsed.

Things got a lot easier after Mac decided to pick a handgun off a guy who passed out drunk at a bar. Originally, it was for safety, and then the occasional intimidation tactic in a hold-up, and then before they knew it Davey was 17 and they were committing their first bank robbery together.

They'd never run with the gang before the VDLs. It had only ever been the two of them, which showed in their uncanny ability to know what the other was thinking at all times: especially on a job. The only thing witnesses would report them saying to one another was Mac giving Davey a firm 'no' for seemingly no reason - every single time Davey had been thinking about doing something stupid, like firing his weapon just to scare the poor accidental hostages more. Or maybe killing the teller and just breaking their way into a vault instead of waiting.

Dutch was the one to recruit them, using bounty posters as a catalogue for potential new members. It was 1896: Mac had just turned 31, Davey 26 - and everyone except Dutch immediately hated them. It was obvious that Dutch wasn't looking for recruits, he was looking for replacements. John had run off and Arthur was bedridden with mourning having found Eliza and Isaac's graves. For Dutch to pick up two similarly aged, similarly talented gunslinging brothers felt like a punch to the gut: they were all replaceable.

But damnit, for outlaws, the Callanders were just too likeable for it to stick. When the awkwardness of having not interacted with anyone other than his brother for over 20 years was too much, Mac factory-defaulted to his polite Scottish Catholic upbringing. He was a brute, but always addressed the gang seniority as sir, or ma'am, and smacked his brother hard over the head reminding him to thank Pearson for the burnt, tasteless gruel.

Davey had the same appeal as the then even younger Sean Macguire: he was loud, he was energy, twitching to go and always the first to volunteer for a mission no matter how small the take was going to be. Unlike Sean, though, he had an off switch in the form of his brother. Davey was like a hunting dog with Mac holding the leash. But that energy was what the gang desperately needed that dark year, when half of them were considering taking off just so they could get a damned night's sleep with a colicky infant Jack around.

Davey loved an audience: being around a regular group of people was the best thing to happen to him. Javier learned English from Davey because Davey would constantly talk to him despite the fact Javier was lucky to pick up every third word. Not being the youngest anymore also inflated Davey's ego tenfold. Sean might have been 17-18, but the hero worship he had for Davey was obvious. They both had the gift of the gab and could talk to each other until they went hoarse, and Sean obviously picked up Davey's impulsive, reckless 'hit 'em hard and loud' mentality on a job.

On a job, it was like music. Mac was used to being the one making plans: he could pick bigger scores now that it wasn't just him and Davey. With a look Mac would send Davey to the back door, and when the sight of one lone gunman started to make people think they could fight back, Davey would burst in on queue to make them think twice. The VDLs that went with just learned where to slot themselves in like puzzle pieces coming together - and if the Callanders had made it to Horseshoe Overlook, they would've had enough money to make it Tahiti. The gang had never lived so comfortably before. The stew actually started to taste good.

Arthur's rage hearing about Mac's death was personal: Mac really was one of his besties in the gang. He might have hated working with him, because Mac wasn't the sort to take orders from anyone, but in camp, Mac was one of the few people he could talk to. They were a similar age, but what they really bonded over was that silent feeling of having the entire world on their shoulders. Arthur's entire adult life was dedicated to the gang, the same way Mac's entire life had been dedicated to keeping his brother safe. They could just sit quietly around the campfire and drink, until liquor loosened their lips enough to properly bond over how unfair their lives had been without ever actually complaining about the hand they'd been dealt.

Mac was the only member of the gang, outside of the OGs (Dutch, Hosea, John (and Abigail), Grimshaw and Tilly) that Arthur ever told about Isaac.

[crosshairlovebot]

in the dreaming comes the warmth / the domino twins

characters: echo & fives (NOT CLONEC*ST)

description: the ache of missing fives leaves a hole in echo's chest that only his brother's warmth can fill.

warnings: angst. loss. grief. mourning. echo is still grieving despite being part of clone force 99. it's not mentioned, but i imagine this particular moment of pain is triggered by crosshair's chip activation and leaving him behind on kamino.

this was a request from a lovely twitter mutual who wanted a hug between echo and fives <3 i haven't written for echo before so i hope i did him justice. also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Echo knew he was dreaming when he recognised the bright white hallways of Tipoca City, which in the waking world sat submerged in the Kaminoan oceans to fade into rust forever. The hallways were as familiar to him as the curves of his face, memorised and so burned into his memory it was no real shock that he could navigate them as he did now in his sleep.

Echo walked through the corridors, passing what he knew were squads of his fellow troopers with faces identical to his, except his dreaming made them blurry, not fully formed. He passed the gangly Kaminoan’s, their large eyes prominent in the haze of their figures, which seemed to blend with the clinical white of the walls. He didn’t exactly know where he was walking until his feet took him to the junior cadet barracks, the ones he and his brothers shared in their brief childhood.

It was surreal seeing it now, as he walked in, the shapes of the beds and the curves of the walls more defined than the hallways, more distinct in his mind. He took it all in, breathing in the scentless air. The last time he was here, he didn’t even have his name yet – none of them did.

The beds were so much smaller than he remembered. He smiled and sat down on one. He ran a hand he shouldn’t have over the cloth blanket, its fibers feeling as familiar as his own skin. An ache formed in his chest for all he had lost.

The door whooshed open, and his head shot in the direction of the noise. It was then he saw himself run in and climb onto the nearest bed, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

Echo blinked in surprise.

His child self was curled into a ball, as tight as he could manage, and Echo could only see the curly dark hair of his head. He remembered he used to do that when he got overwhelmed, but he couldn’t remember when he stopped. He watched his child self grip onto the sleeves of his standard issue cadet uniform tightly, the knuckles on his little hands white.

His child self didn’t see him and made no moves to show that he knew Echo was there at all. It was strange to see himself like this. To see a snapshot of the person he was for a short amount of time.

Echo slowly stood up, the urge to know what it was that made his child self cry when the door opened again, and his breath got caught in his throat and his eyes stung when he saw who it was that stepped in the door.

This was not just a dream, but a memory.

Fives’s tiny face was the same as his had been, except his brother’s seemed to be perpetually twisted into a smirk, and if it wasn’t, it itched at the corners of his mouth, ready to bloom at a moment’s notice. But his face now held no impishness, instead, his small brows were furrowed as his gaze landed on his brother’s curled-up body on the bed.

“Hey, 21-0408, why the long face?”

Echo had to sit down and cover his mouth with a hand to stop the sob that dared to escape his throat. His brother’s voice, albeit that of his child self, felt so incredibly comforting. He thought he’d never hear it again, even if it was that little boy’s voice that all clones had as young cadets. To Echo, it just sounded like him; like Fives; like it did in his fuzzy memories.

His childhood had been a fleeting blur of training programs and accelerated growth, so he didn’t remember much of it. But he didn’t forget moments like this, where his brother’s love had engulfed him.  

Echo watched his child self slowly peek his eyes out from his arms at his older brother.

“Go away,” Little Echo mumbled.

“Come on, 21-0408,” Little Fives said and climbed up onto the bed next to him, trying to pry open his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Little Echo ripped his arm away and wiped his tear-stained face and nose with his sleeve. Echo grimaced as he saw the dark line that now appeared on the red fabric. He forgot kids could be gross sometimes, even himself.

“I said, go away, 27-5555,” Little Echo grumbled. “I want to be alone.”

Little Echo had no idea just how much time he would spend alone.

“Why?” Of course, Fives never let up about anything, even as a child.

Little Echo scowled at his shoes on the bed. “I…I keep messing up…”

“This module is hard, vod’ika,” Little Fives placed a hand on Little Echo’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Fives was barely older than Echo, but his older brother never let him forget it. With the Mando’a nickname ‘little brother’ sticking to Echo for practically as long as he’d known Fives. He pretended to hate it, and he’d give anything to hear it again. So, hearing it now, Echo’s heart seized. He wanted to grab his younger self by the shoulders and tell him to treasure the nickname; to never roll his eyes and pretend to hate it; to call Fives ori’vod in return because he knew he’d get a kick out of it.

“But everyone’s good at this module except me…” Little Echo voiced quietly, not entirely convinced.

Echo tried to wrack his brain for what module his younger self was talking about, but his dreaming made it too hazy to pinpoint; like if his subconscious ventured too far away from the scene in front of him it would fizzle away, and his dream would move onto something else. And he wanted to stay in this for as long as he could.

“You’ll get it eventually; it just takes practice,” Little Fives reassured.

“I’m going to fail…and never be a soldier…” his younger self sniffled. Echo saw his eyes gloss over again with unshed tears.

“Don’t talk like that,” Little Fives chastised, punching him lightly in the shoulder, a furious look on his face. “You’ll be fine. I’ll help you.”

Little Echo’s face lit up with hope. “You will?”

Little Fives nodded. “That’s what brothers do. We look out for each other; have each other’s backs.”

Echo watched his younger self sniffle as he looked at his older brother, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Promise?” he said.

“Promise,” Little Fives said with so much conviction, that it made Echo’s heart squeeze again. He was always so sure of everything, never faltering – not even for a second. Once Fives believed in something, he didn’t waver. Ever.

Little Echo smiled, and wrapped his arms around his brother, who hugged him tightly. Echo watched them embrace, anchoring themselves to each other. He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt a tear fall on his hands in his lap. He reached up to wipe them away, scoffing lightly at himself.

“Hey, Echo, why the long face?”

Echo’s heart seemed to expand and stop as he turned around, seeing Fives standing there behind him several metres away. He turned back to where their younger selves sat on the bed and saw they had vanished, that the room had melted away into a long bright endless plane.

“Fives?” Echo wiped his face again and he saw Fives grin at him, before walking over. Echo blinked around the tears to take the sight of him. His figure was much clearer than anything else he’d seen so far in his dreams. Fives was adorned in his ARC trooper armour; helmet tucked under his arm with a proud smile stretched across his face. He willed his subconscious to stay in this moment, that it would be cruel to rip him from it with no warning. He needed time with him.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Fives joked when he came closer, his mouth quirked in that smirk that was so incredibly familiar seeing it felt like coming home.

Echo laughed tearfully. “Your ugly face is just so scary, I can’t help but cry.”

Fives threw his head back in a loud guffaw before punching Echo lightly on the arm. “It’s good to see you, vod’ika.”

Echo’s heart filled with so much warmth at the affection. “Good to see you too, Fives.”

Fives smiled at him before Echo asked, “What are you doing here?”

Fives didn’t respond, he just looked at Echo thoughtfully. Echo cleared his throat and shook his head. “When they found me on Skako Minor and you weren’t with them…”

He felt Fives’s heavy hand land on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know. But I’m here now.”

Echo felt his lip tremble and he willed himself to take a breath. “I missed so much time with you.”

Fives shook his head. “Don’t think about that.”

“How can I not? I missed everything. I missed…”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that anyway.”

He didn’t need to say the words for Echo to know what he was referring to.

“I…I would’ve believed you.”

“Then you would be dead too.”

Clones were conditioned not to linger on the losses of their fellow brothers. It was the nature of what they were bred for. Born knowing they would die. They were taught to take a moment to mourn, then to keep going. There was no time to let the grief linger in war.

But this was much harder than Echo had been conditioned to think.

Echo’s grief for losing Fives was too complicated for that. Echo lost Fives after the fact. He was mourning him outside of the mourning period, outside of the war. And it was something he didn’t know how to handle. The grief could sit for longer, dawdle almost now that there wasn’t another mission to focus on instead. And it was painful. A never-ending agony that oscillated between a dull ache to suffocating sharpness in the hole of his chest.

Fives had been a constant in his life, from cadets to losing their squad on Rishi Moon, to joining Rex in the 501st, all the way until the fateful night of the Citadel rescue. Fives had been there for all of it. Even thereafter, in the brief lucid moments in cryostasis on Skako, his thoughts would drift to his ori’vod. So, to be released into that mourning, to realise he was free, but without his beloved brother by his side was lonelier than stasis had been.

And hearing how exactly Fives met his end had not made it any easier. It was the unfairest of deaths, and that knowledge almost hurt more. That he wasn’t there. How if he had been, it may have gone differently.

There were so many moments where Echo would think of something he wanted to tell Fives, only to realise a moment later that he couldn’t. It was a cycle of remembering he was gone. Those milliseconds of bliss, before he remembered, were bookended by the searing hurt. And there was no one to share that hurt with.

Rex was elusive in his hiding and had gone through his mourning period. And though Clone Force 99 had provided him with a home, a comradery, that he was grateful for, they had not lost anyone the way Echo had lost Fives. They didn’t fully understand.

Echo just wanted the one person who understood him, who knew him inside and out.

In other, much less complicated words, Echo missed Fives so, so much.

And at those lowest moments when he missed him; when the aching felt never-ending and moving forward felt futile, Echo imagined what it would’ve been like had they both found their ends together. How much easier it would’ve been on his heart, to know that his brother was with him even in death. That if there was an afterlife, it would be spent together. That their hearts had stopped at the same time, one not forced to go on without the other helping keep it in rhythm.

The galaxy had not been so kind to grant him that.

“I…I know,” Echo replied quietly, his throat thick.

He watched Fives’ face study him for a moment before his brow settled into a crease, and his hand tightened on Echo’s shoulder. “Echo…don’t be sad.”

Echo looked at him with disbelief. He could see all the texture in his face and feel the puff of breath against his nose. It was as if he wasn’t dreaming at all. “How…how can I not be sad? You’re not here.”

“No, but you are. You have a second chance, Echo. A second chance to live.”

Echo shook his head. “You should be here too.”

“Maybe. But my path was different to yours. You finally get a chance to choose what you do with your life. Nobody else; you, vod’ika. That freedom I was fighting for? You have it now. You have for both of us. Do something good with it. Something we’d both be proud of.”

Echo looked at his brother searching his face for something he couldn’t name. Maybe he wasn’t searching at all, but memorising. Memorising the look Fives was giving him now; the pride, the unwavering belief he had in him. He hadn’t seen it in such a long time. No one had expected anything of him in just as long.

“Promise me you will, Echo.”

He didn’t even need to think about it. “I promise.”

Echo could feel the waking world calling him, so before Fives faded away, he wrapped his arms around his brother. Fives dropped his helmet and didn’t hesitate to embrace Echo back. Arms tightly holding each other, hearts pressed together and beating in time. Echo could feel Fives’s solid chest and his warmth as if he were awake. Everything felt right in the brief, brief moment. That anchor had returned. That pain in his heart had dulled in his dreaming and been replaced with the warmth of his brother he’d been wishing for. He gripped the edges of his brother’s armour, afraid to let go, to leave this moment. But knew he had to. He’d made a promise.

“I love you, Fives,” he choked out.

He felt Fives’s palm run over his hair as he spoke against his ear. “I know. I love you too. Remember, I’m looking out for you.”

Echo jolted awake. His chest heaved as he tried to remember where he was, and his body ached like it just run a marathon. Across the small corridor, Wrecker slept, soft snores sounding. The nightlight in Omega’s space glowed softly through the curtains, and Hunter had fallen asleep on the floor, his back leaning on the wall next to the ladder, no doubt guarding their sister’s bad dreams. He could hear Tech tinkering away in the cockpit, on watch as they flew through hyperspace. Where was Crosshair?

Oh. Right.

Echo ran a hand over his face and turned towards the wall, his eyes stinging with tears. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle, ignoring the bulk of his scomp. He tried to preserve the warmth he felt from his dreams which threatened to evaporate in the chill of hyperspace. He pressed his eyes shut, willing himself to go back into that dream, to return to Fives and get one last look at him, but it was no use. He was here. And Fives was there, or somewhere.

It could’ve been a few minutes or an hour when he heard a voice. “Echo?”

He turned to see Tech looking down at him in his bunk, adjusting his goggles. “What is it, Tech?”

“I’m afraid it’s your turn on watch.”

“Great. Thanks,” Echo grumbled.

He tried to inconspicuously wipe his eyes as he swung his metal legs out of the bunk and stood up, stretching his neck. He watched Tech remove his goggles and rub his eyes and sat down on the edge of Echo’s bunk. They had limited space, and Echo didn’t mind sharing.

“Sweet dreams,” Echo told him as Tech lay down, falling asleep almost immediately, as he tended to do.

Echo walked to the cockpit and shut the door so the light from their travels wouldn’t disturb the others. He sat in the pilot’s seat and sighed, putting his head in his hand, no hair on his head to clasp as he tried to recentre himself. He took in some steady breaths, focusing on a screw in the floor panelling. He did everything he could to quell the turning of his stomach and the throbbing in his chest. Just as quickly as it had filled in his dream, the waking world had returned that giant hole in his chest, seemingly aware that something had filled it again briefly, and now it felt the absence more.

When would this feeling of emptiness end?

The Marauder shifted in its hyperspace travels, tilting off course slightly, triggering some alarms. Echo immediately sprang into action, and his hand and scomp grabbed the controls to steady the ship. With a frown, he checked the stabilisers and saw they needed recalibrating. Didn’t Tech just deal with this after they’d left Ordo Moon mere hours ago? He tried and failed not to get annoyed – he just needed to fix this, and quickly so they didn’t veer off course and fall into a star. He sighed, knowing they’d have to come out of hyperspace for these repairs. Maybe the ship had been more damaged than he thought.

Echo slowly pulled back the hyperdrive lever and the ship came to a halt in open space. He hoped no one woke up with the disturbance and that this wouldn’t take long. They didn’t have time to waste. He placed the Marauder in idle whilst he scomped in and started recalibrating. It was a lot easier now that Tech had upgraded his cerebral interface, so there was less strain on him. He was able to scomp in and load up the commands without much effort. As the commands processed through the system, he watched the stabilisers respond and recalibrate in his mind’s eye.

It was then he felt a shiver run up his spine.

A monitor beeped, interrupting his realignment, and Echo looked at a screen searching for the alert among the pop-ups when he noticed the time.

05:55. Echo’s breath hitched.

He heard the door behind him slide open but didn’t look away from the monitor. He couldn’t.

“Everything okay in here? I felt something,” Hunter’s voice thick with sleep asked.

Echo kept his gaze on the numerals, and he allowed himself to smile, that warmth he’d been longing for slowly filling the hole in his chest.

“It will be,” he told Hunter.

Fives was keeping his promise, so Echo would too.

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3

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[crazyw3irdo]

Hey, I just took your Romeo & Juliet Quiz (I got Friar Lawrence, not important) could you post the other answers from the quiz? I wanna know what they are but I don’t wanna take the quiz a bunch.

Thanks for making it! It gave me the willies in a good sorta way, you also made me think about what I liked about Romeo + Juliet (the flowery language) which was a nice reminder.

Thanks! ◡̈

of course! answers below so i’m not clogging up everyone’s dash lol

romeo: you were doomed from the start. you would have lived a life of friendship and fun, perhaps a bit of flirting if that's something that interests you. you could have published poetry. but your emotions controlled you. you were punished by the universe for a fleeting bit of passion to serve as a lesson for the cynical. hopefully you left an impression. your passion is explosive. your loyalty a boon. if only the world were fair.

juliet: you were doomed from the start. you were robbed of a chance to become anything. controlled by everyone in your life, even the ones that genuinely cared, and the one good thing you had led to your destruction because the hands of fate deemed it so. your trust in others is admirable. your optimism is enviable. your hope burns. if only you were living a different life.

mercutio: you were too loyal. not even for your own cause. you had no stake in this affair, and yet when your friend was threatened you leapt to his defense. you were doomed, but was it even for anything? does anyone mourn? no matter how much you proclaim you don't care, your caring is too great. you bare your heart to the world and it ended up getting scratched. if only the world were kind.

benvolio: it may be different from the others, but you were still doomed from the start. the horror of being the most reasonable one in the group is that means everyone else makes mistakes. everyone else must face the consequences. everyone else gets hurt while you stand there unharmed. no matter the warnings you give, they still are punished. you can't help someone who the universe decided must be destroyed. i admire that you still try. if only the game hadn't been rigged from the start.

tybalt: your passion doomed you. you thought you knew what was right. you thought you deserved it. you thought if you fought for it you could get it. communication is hard, so you tried something else, you wanted to defend, to attack, to prove something to someone. but you couldn't. you never could. you tried to meddle with fate and ended up at its mercy. if only the world listened.

friar laurence: you thought you could help. and you did, you really did. you were there for the happiness. but that also meant you were there when there was nothing left. a guiding hand is only so helpful. you plan and plan and plan and mistakes still happen. and when you don't consider those mistakes, everything can go wrong. fate will find the smallest flaw and wrench everything from you. if only you realized that sooner.

nurse: you cared for them. you loved them. you were always there. but there was nothing you could have done. it's not your story. you perpetually stand in the sidelines, watching people suffer for something you have no involvement in and yet you care. you care for them. but no matter how much you love them that doesn't change that they'll end up in a tomb someday. if only it weren't so soon.