here4tripitaka

[pixlokita]

It his birthday…

[seventytwoowls]

“When my skin feels like a barrier between /Everything else in this universe and me / Then I try to remember / That there may very well be a link between us / That I can't see / Something underneath the surface / Buried / In among the weeds.”

ID: A watercolor painting outlined with ballpoint pen of a human heart. The heart has been colored brown, and the arteries have been drawn as the caps of Armillaria Ostoyae, a brown mushroom with speckled caps. the veins running over the chambers of the heart are dark brown. The painting has been titled, “Armillaria Ostoyae”.

Art that I made for @narcissistcookbook , who I saw in the flesh tonight :) they and their audience were very cool, soaring over the (low) bar set by the only other concert I have ever been to.

[ncthandrake]

This is Torgal, a wolf pup raised in the duchy. There is no more loyal ally in battle, and no keener guide when the road ahead is uncertain.

[starry-bi-sky]

realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards

*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then

[chrisbangs]

231003 ♡ Happy Birthday Bang Chan!

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[quillkiller]

microfic: sirius & family trauma, 950 words

cw: death and implied abuse

idk what came over me. i wrote this mostly to project onto sirius and i dont even know if it’s supposed to be set in canon or in a modern au. enjoy i guess !

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday. He hasn’t heard from him in several months before that, but his brother had called him from the hospital.

So here he was, sitting in an impersonal waiting room, his brother half asleep on his shoulder, staring at an ugly painting on the wall in front of him. It was a little crooked, Sirius thought. It was driving him a bit mad, and he wanted to correct it, but he didn’t want to wake Regulus.

Their mother was in the hospital room with their father— with her husband. The thought made Sirius feel strange, almost sick. Sirius’ mother was his devil, and she had always been the very picture of evil to him. It was easier to cope that way, thinking there was no good in the woman that had spat him out into the world against his will. It had shaken him to the very core of his bones to learn that his mother had refused to let Orion be alone when he died.

His mother had been at her husband's side for ten hours now, sitting by his bed, waiting for him to stop breathing. Every once in a while she came to speak to Regulus, sometimes glancing at Sirius. She had even touched Sirius’ shoulder and given him a gentle squeeze. Something he did not think her capable of.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday, which feels comically underwhelming and anti-climactic, all things considered. He had been such a large presence that even his absence had felt suffocating. He had been something Sirius couldn’t get rid of even even if tried. Always looming like a shadow in every corner of Sirius’ life.

Sirius had wished him dead more times than he could count, and now that he was he realised how unnerving it was. It was a lot more fun having a complicated relationship with your father when he was alive for it. It felt a little too final, a little too scary, now that he was a corpse a few doors down the hall and not someone Sirius could pick a fight with just for kicks.

Regulus had mostly been quiet, not really saying much. It had all been a little too surreal, too big for both of them. His brother had cried and made himself small against Sirius like when they were kids, getting snot and tears on Sirius shirt. Sirius had teased him for it, Christ, Regulus, you’re such a baby, and Regulus had laughed into his shoulder. Sirius had laughed too– until it escalated, and then they were both laughing. Sirius didn’t know why they were laughing, or why it was so funny, only that it was.

It went on like that the entire night, until morning, until their father had taken his last breath and his heart stopped. They were laughing hysterically about nothing in particular, and a moment later they were both so quiet it felt like the world around them had melted away or narrowed down to nothing but these four walls. Nurses came and went, offered them drinks or snacks, and two of them sat down and gave them a talk about grief. They were both biting their tongues trying not to burst out laughing again when one of the nurses said: At least you have all these wonderful memories with him.

It’s difficult being an older brother to someone whose father has died. Almost to the point where you forget that your father died, too. It’s hard watching Regulus mourn him and know he’s going to carry this with him for the rest of his life. Sirius would take the burden from him if he could. He’d do anything if it meant his little brother didn’t have to go through this, not even having a choice. It feels desperately unfair and cruel that Sirius can’t protect him from this.

Sirius had left home, almost cutting all his ties to his family. Regulus was the only reason he never managed to cut them all. He’d tried to get Regulus to come with him— to move on with him. Had told him that blood isn’t what makes a family, and Regulus had said No? What about you and me?

So he hadn’t cut all his ties with his family— continued to stick it out for his little brother who refused to let go. He suffered through the occasional family dinner or social function, but at least he had his own apartment to go back home to.

He knew Regulus would mourn differently than Sirius would. Knew that Regulus thought that their father had done unspeakable things to them, but maybe he’ll make a good grandfather one day when I have children. Sirius didn’t think so, but he never said.

Not like it mattered anymore, anyway.

Sirius had always been more like Orion than Regulus. Both his mother and his brother had told him so more than once. Sirius despised the very idea, the very thought that he would one day grow into becoming his father. Had fought violently to refuse his legacy. Had fought harder to stop his father looking back at him through the mirror.

Strange, now, how he’d never see his father again if he wasn’t looking in the mirror. Regulus had mostly taken after their mother.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday. The view from the tenth floor is beautiful, the sun just starting to come up, another day coming alive. The painting is still askew, and still will be when they leave this room.

How strange that a day, a night, like this can end. That this room will be the same, only empty of two brothers holding onto each other the best they can waiting for their father to die.

Sirius’ father dies on a regular tuesday.

[mortdeheros]

L. Munir — Lazarus, Caravaggio —The Sacrifice of Isaac, Arthur Rimbaud — Ophelia, Dir. David Michôd — The King, Sabaa Tahir — A Torch Against the Night, Xooang Choi —The Wing, Raleigh Ritchie — Bloodsport, Karl Bryullov — The Last Day of Pompeii (detail), David Cronenberg— Consumed, Jesus is Scourged. —Chapel of Mount Aloysius College, Holyaches

I can’t even stomach being in the cathedral for more than a few hours at a time anymore. Like a churning deep in the helix of my dna rejects it. It’s part of me, this roiling rejection of lightness, as much as my dark hair and freckles, there is nothing I can do to comb it from my coat.

[sqrkyclean]

yeah thats. what i thought. traumadumping i guess in the tags abt it.

[itinerant-monk]

Finished version of the first of my in-fic fanart series for my companion InuYasha fanfic Journey 1986 which is an AU set in the 80s. In the fic, Miroku is a spiritually gifted warlock and heavy metal fanboy in a local band who probably aren't as good as they think they are. But hey, like Def Leppard said: It's better to burn out than fade away.

Now to work on the next few introduction pictures.

[mistyscenter]

Let me bitch and moan before posting positivity for a sec because Derek DLC doesn't make you feel like you're cheating on Cove if you're dating him because Derek is actually yours and Cove's friend so spending time with him and crashing to his place doesn't feel weird if you do a platonic route. Which is not the same for Baxter DLC because WDYM I CRASH TO BAXTER'S PLACE AFTER INTERACTING WITH HIM FOR 3 DAYS AFTER 5 YEARS HE GHOSTED ME WHAT THE FUCK-

[vulpinesaint]

they are so fucking silly it might be terminal

[itspileofgoodthings]

Sweet things from an otherwise brutal week:

—ran into a parent who saw me and said “Macbeth right now, right? My son is so excited about it” and when I say I would never have ever guessed that. Except that as soon as he said it I was like oh yeah, he’s been volunteering to read more than usual and looks the smallest bit more awake

—I was doing some basics of writing review with my sophomores and touched on the ‘don’t use first person pronouns’ rule and we were talking about why and then Jane Eyre popped into my head so I told them that first person pronouns could be used to great effect in fiction and quoted the “reader I married him” line and two girls GASPED in wonder and delight. It was the CUTEST

—I passed two 7th graders in the hallway and they were talking about chicken nuggets and I said “I LOVE chicken nuggets” and they started to laugh and as I left I heard one of them say ‘I love Miss K.’

[fallenwhumpee]

"An Hour."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, aftermath of captivity, mentioned death.

Medic, despite what their job would suggest, wasn't a caregiver. They were just a mechanic working on circuits, not who carefully kept the whole mechanism running. They could fix people, but it was that. Someone would have to take over the aftermath.

Much to Medic's relief, Leader was a caregiver. A good one, even.

Too good, they lately noticed. Too good that it was starting to make Medic worried. But just like every other day, Medic knocked the infirmary door in exactly same time, before opening it fully. Youngest was asleep in the hospital bed - Medic had said Leader that it was unnecessary, but Leader  brought one anyway - and at last drops of their IV.

"An hour," Leader muttered. At this point it felt like a ritual. So, without a word, Medic moved and changed Youngest's IV to antibiotics as Leader deserted the room silently. Probably to sleep.

Good, Medic thought. Leader needed it.

Medic made their way to the armchair, only to see Leader's office keys on it. For a moment, they considered giving it back. They respected privacy, but they were also curious. For the last one month and a half, all Leader did was looking for Youngest, caring for Youngest or staying in their office. The first two was understandable, but the third...

Now Medic could learn whatever Leader was doing in their office.

Medic hesitated. They shouldn’t invade Leader’s privacy—Leader had done nothing to earn suspicion, at all. And Leader never broke anyone's boundries, so Medic doing it to them was just wrong. But something had been gnawing at the back of Medic’s mind for weeks now, something beyond the usual worry for Youngest. Leader’s behavior, so single-minded, so intense, felt wrong. So wrong for someone almost obsessed with making the future better. And if there was something in that office that could explain it...

Steeling themselves, Medic turned and walked down the hall to Leader’s office. The key slid into the lock with an ease that almost felt too simple. "Where's Leader?" Medic shouted. Leader's room was wide open and Leader wasn't there.

"Went for a quick walk," Right Hand shouted back.

Medic took a deep breath. "Okay," they muttered. With a simple twist, the door creaked open. Medic slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind them slowly. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the walls. At first glance, it looked like any other office—neat, organized, professional. Just like how Leader liked to keep everything. Medic opened the lights.

Notes. Dozens of them, pinned to a board on the wall, scattered across the desk, and even taped to the edges of the bookshelves, almost creating a wallpaper. Most were in Leader’s precise handwriting, detailing locations, names, dates, and other pieces of information that, together, painted a picture out of a detective's office. Medic’s gaze was drawn to a map on the wall, marked with pins and red string connecting various points. They moved closer, recognizing the locations as places where incidents had occurred—break-ins, disappearances, attacks. All related to Youngest.

Their heart pounded as they picked up a file from the desk. It had a picture, the person's face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was. Medic had seen that face around Whumper—one of the underlings of them. The person had been found dead two weeks ago, the cause still under investigation. There were detailed reports about them, autopsies, locations, biographies... informations that Medic doubted Leader had the authority to kno let alone storing.

They set the file down, their hands trembling slightly. Leader had been gathering evidence, but it wasn’t just about finding Youngest. It was about something more.

Another photo on the desk caught their eye. Medic took it, revealing more photos, more notes underneath. Some were crossed out, others highlighted. A list of names—people connected to the kidnapping—each one with a note beside it: confirmed dead, under surveillance, possible lead.

Some of these people were no longer a threat because they were dead. Was it coincidence, or had Leader...?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped Medic out of their thoughts. They hurriedly closed the folder and placed thr picture back on the desk, glancing around to make sure everything was as they’d found it. The door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

Leader stepped inside, looking tired but alert. They froze for a moment, eyes narrowing as they stared in the sight of Medic standing in their office.

“What are you doing here?” Leader’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning.

Medic tried to keep their expression neutral, forcing a casual shrug qs if they weren’t digging through the room for the last ten minutes. “You left your keys on the chair. Thought I’d drop them off.”

Leader’s gaze flicked to the keys in Medic’s hand, then back to their face. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leader crossed the room, taking the keys with a nod.

“Thank you,” they said, their tone polite but distant. “Please wait for my return next time.”

Medic nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a physical weight. They turned to leave, but couldn’t help one last glance at the desk, at the folder now lying innocently on the surface.

Leader didn’t miss the look. “Is there something else?”

“No,” Medic replied quickly, shaking their head. “Just... take care of yourself, okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Leader’s expression relaxed, a smile so soft and tender taking over. “Don't worry. Byt you should get some rest too.”

How could Medic be suspicious of them when all Leader did was worrying and caring for the team? Shoving the guilt down, they forced a smile and left the office.

-•-

Later that day, Medic was in the break room when the news broke. The television mounted on the wall buzzed with static before the anchor’s voice cut in, somber and urgent.

“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Henchman, a key figure in the recent string of criminal activities linked to the late terrorist Whumper, was found dead earlier this evening. Authorities are investigating, but details remain scarce at this time.”

Medic’s blood ran cold. Henchman—another name on Leader’s list. Dead. Just like the others.

They stood frozen, the room spinning around them. The timeline didn’t add up. Leader couldn’t have done it—they had only left the office for ten minutes, not enough time to cross the city and back. But the coincidences were too many, too pointed.

When Medic next saw Leader, they couldn’t help but study their face, searching for anything. But Leader looked even more drained than the last time, still trying to hold it together desperately. When Medic mentioned the news, Leader’s response was calm, almost indifferent.

“Tragic, but not unexpected,” Leader muttered, shrugging slightly. They weren’t even focused— they looked like they could just collapse and take a twenty four hour nap. “Agency was after them. It was only a matter of time.”

Medic nodded slowly, but the uneasy feeling in their gut only grew. There was something, something that was beyond their understanding. But as Leader walked away, Medic knew one thing for certain— Leader was doing something wrong. It was either their sleeping habits or the team had a huge problem.

-•-

Soo, have another random one. This is standalone, but I wrote this with "A Score to Settle" in my mind. Not quite part two, but I began writing with that intention.

[scorchedmazes]

debated on doing a long sappy post ab how the maze runner has impacted me since i was 13 years old and i ended up breaking down writing it so,, yeah. no long sappy note.

but seriously, the maze runner truly saved my life and if that sounds dramatic it’s bc i am dramatic and if i hadn’t had tmr when i had it i prob wouldn’t be here. that’s how much this series means to me.

so,, happy 10th birthday to the maze runner movie, thank you for saving me.

[mad-hunts]