#the chronicles of the void

[killerkaijuart]

(Made on June 6th, 2023)

The dawn of something new... hope is on the horizon.

[always-a-king-or-queen]

C 👏 S 👏 LEWIS 👏 WAS 👏 NOT 👏 MISOGYNISTIC

IM SO SICK OF THIS TAKE

“But he said girls shouldn’t fight in battles—" No, actually. What he said was “Battles are ugly when women fight.” Which literally translates to “in a war where women are required to fight to help win it, it means the war itself is really bad.” And this literally just means that the war has gotten so bad that women have to fight, not that women shouldn’t fight. Just that they shouldn’t be forced to. Anyway, remember Lucy?? Lucy who rode to battle in The Horse and His Boy?? Lucy who fought as an archer?? “But Susan didn’t—" Yeah. Because she didn’t want to. No one was forcing her not to fight. She had free will to fight or to not fight, and she chose not to because she didn’t want to, not because a man made her stay home.

“He punished Susan for growing up—" S i g h. This is the one I see the most often. “He did Susan dirty” “he made her suffer because she liked lipstick” “etc etc blah blah blah” First of all Narnia is a children’s book series. For CS Lewis to delve into why Susan forgot Narnia, talk about her dealing with the death of her entire family, discuss her grief, and write about her eventual return to Narnia (more on that in a second), it would’ve made for a pretty dark and heavy children’s book, and Lewis said that he didn’t think that was something he wanted to write. But he also encouraged people to finish Susan’s story themselves, and said she might eventually make her own way back to Narnia. Not only this, but Susan’s name means lily, and the waters around Aslan’s country are covered in lilies. Coincidence? I think not. I think it symbolizes she was going to go back. (Especially considering I think Lewis was very careful in choosing each of the Pevensie’s names, since they all relate to their character).

Also, Lewis did not condemn Susan simply for growing up and liking makeup and clothing and boys. If so why would he have written about Aravis and Shasta/Cor, or Caspian and Liliandil? Why would he have written about Susan and Lucy being beautiful and having many suitors? So no, he wasn’t condemning her for that, and in fact he wasn’t condemning her at all. It’s extremely probable that her family’s death would have brought Susan back to her senses. Because here’s the thing: she forgot. She threw herself so much into the world and approval and convinced herself that her life as a queen and her acquaintance with Aslan was all a silly game they played as children, that it wasn’t real. But, she very well could remember again, and I 1000% believe she did.

“All his female characters were weak and did nothing—" My friend. Lucy Pevensie was a female. She discovered Narnia. It was because of her. Her siblings would never have found it without her. Lucy is one of THE most important characters in the entire series. And her title? The Valiant. Lucy’s very title as queen denoted her bravery and fortitude without one even knowing her. As for Susan, she was not any weaker for being “The Gentle.” I would say gentleness is honestly one of the strongest traits a person can have, because it takes a lot to live and be gentle. Also remember Aravis? A major character in The Horse and His Boy and future wife of Shasta, Aravis literally nearly killed herself to escape an arranged marriage. She was not someone to be dictated to; she made her own choices and escaped rather than submitting. And in the end, she’s still fiery, just a little more humble and with less of a chip on her shoulder. Then there’s Polly, who is the more logical person in The Magician’s Nephew and tries to stop Digory from ringing the bell that wakes the White Witch. A boy causes her to awaken, not a girl. It was Digory’s fault she woke up, not Polly’s!!

Also, Peter and Edmund do not ignore their sisters because they’re girls. They listen to what they have to say and speak to them as equals. They don’t forbid them from fighting; Susan chooses not to, but Lucy goes straight into the heart of the battle with them! So don’t even say Lewis made his female characters weak. They were the backbone of much of the series and without them much of the plot would never have happened!!

So don’t you ever say to me that CS Lewis was misogynistic because it’s the furthest thing from the truth

[chiscribbs]

BACK FOR ROUND THREE BABY! this time its signal (donnie) deciding to judge your currently lost donnie! Yes he would do this literally in the air, and yes he would be standing on the theoretical ceiling.

He is willing to go many lengths just to mess with donnies, even if it means defying gravity.

(I couldnt help myself interacting with your turtles has been a blast and i wanna mess with your donnie)

Sorry, brothers - Donnie's got some urgent business to attend to before he finds you. He can't simply let an insult like this go unanswered!

(Asdfghkl ehehe I also really enjoy interacting with your turtles ❤ Your kids are free to mess with my kids all they want, please go right ahead) More @tmntaucompetition shenanigans!

Grown Apart AU: [Premise/Concept Art] [General tag] [Intro]

Thread: Pt. 2>>

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[fanvoidkeith]

sometimes family is a regular man, his surprisingly smart (and capricious) cat, his phoenix husband, the antichrist, an amorphous slime boy, a nature sprite, a gnome, a wyvern, a shapeshifter, a yeti, a much older and more powerful nature sprite, and her girlfriend the mayor

[witchlingcirce]

When someone reminds me about how sizzy were the only tmi couple not to be in secrets of blackthorn hall… ripping my hair out 😞

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @runninriot! You're lingerie fic idea is so GOOD!!

To be honest there hasn't been a lot of wormy ideas crawling through my covid brain fog, but this is what I've got.

~~~

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Mike saw a bully paying in blood for his past mistakes. A former king paying penance for every kid he ever stepped on, every girl he ever left behind. Steve's been trying to prove for months he's a better person than he used to be, that he actually deserves someone like Nancy. Well, Mike thinks this is a good start.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Dustin saw the coolest guy he knows stand up for a group of nerds. A rich kid with a nice car who was still willing to help him when he asked for it. Steve's never talked to him before, but when Dustin needed it, the guy dropped everything he was doing to keep him safe.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Max saw someone like her brother, but so, so unlike him in all the ways that mattered. A random high school guy took one look at her, just some random girl, and decided there was no difference between her and the boys, that he'd take her in under his protection the same as them. That in less than a day, Steve was more of a brother to her than Billy ever was.

The night Steve almost died to Billy Hargrove's hands, Lucas saw a jock use his strength for good. He saw a boy who was no brains all brawn, captain of the swim team and basketball team, use those muscles to protect him and his friends. Someone who was strong enough to take on monsters and bullies without hesitation. Steve's the only Fighter the Party has, and maybe that's something Lucas can help with.

~~~

I can't stop thinking about how this scene should've been a more pivotal moment for Steve's character arc in relation to the Party.

Alright here's the tags! No pressure!

@lingeringmirth @cuips-not-cute @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @devondespresso @pearynice

[akkivee]

i believe in you doppo 🔥🔥🔥

[completeoveranalysis]

[11]

CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT'S WHERE WE STOP?

AHHHHHHHHH

[sunnylunacy]

✨️Marius✨️

[ispeacetoomuchtoaskfor]

random people: Tolkien is better than Lewis!

Other random people: Narnia is better than Lord of the Rings!

Me and my entire family:

[idyllcy]

illicit affairs

word count: 2,018

warnings: nsfw, smut, messy sex, mild dubcon. switch!YeXuan

summary: I mean, it's not like he's doing anything wrong if you're the one doing the work, right? Well, even then. You started it.

"I told you, I can't—" Cael leans back as you straddle him, blinking at him owlishly.

"Then don't." You hum, loosening his robe. "Just sit still."

He reaches to pull you off of him, and you tilt your head.

"W-where is this coming from?" He whimpers as you press your hand to his abdomen, sliding down. "Y-you weren't this upfront before."

You lean in instead, lips brushing his ear as he shifts uncomfortably, chuckling breathily. "Yeah?"

He cranes his neck as your lips brush his ears, and the blush on his skin is brutally unforgiving as you giggle. You shift your hips over his crotch as his breath hitches, watching as his breath catches in his throat and he holds back a groan. You do it again, and this time, he manages to hiss out a weak "stop."

"But you were really eager when you were jerking off to me the other day." You mumble, pressing your lips to his, forcing your tongue into his mouth as you lick the roof of his mouth with a satisfied hum. He whimpers as your chest presses to his, and his fingers cling onto the sofa fabric underneath him to try to get him to stop touching you like his mind wants him to.

You pull away from him, strand of saliva connecting your lips to his.

"S-still." He manages, head spinning from your lips as he watches the strand break. God, he wants more. "It's wrong."

"It's not wrong if you aren't doing anything." You hum, pulling your shirt over your head. "You don't know what this feeling is, right? It's a shame you all don't emphasize on this feeling. Besides, with how many worlds I've been in, this should be far from wrong now."

You pull his robe off of him as you roll your hips again, and he moans this time.

"Aww." You coo, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Just sit still and look pretty, alright?"

You spit on your hand as you pump him, blinking at him through your lashes as you stare at him, collecting his precum on your thumb as you slide it up and down, drinking in the way his breath hitches and he whimpers, biting down on his lip to try and stop the sound from coming out. You ignore him as you keep going, forcing your chest to his as he tries to look anywhere but your cleavage, and you click your tongue in disdain.

"Cael, baby." You feign pity. "Do you feel bad for staring when I'm the one inviting you to?"

He turns impossibly more red, and you laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw as his fingers clench uncomfortably.

"We really shouldn't—"

"It's fine." You hum, speeding up with your hand, lips curled into a cheeky smile. "Come on. You can cum. You know you want to."

Cael's hips stutter as he spills into your hand, eyes widening as he moans lewdly— and you kiss him, drinking up his voice as he pulses in your hand, skin flushed pink and body tense.

You let go once he finishes, licking the fluid from your hand, making a show of it as you stick your tongue out, and you watch as Cael's eyes focus in on your fingers, and you watch as he swallows— his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and you moan at the taste. God.

You stare down at Cael's dick, eyes lighting up as you find that he's still hard.

"Oh? I thought you said you shouldn't do this?"

"I-I really." He gasps as you slide down to put him in your mouth, giving him a lick from the base to the tip. "sh-shouldn't"

His voice cuts off as you take him all the way, lips wrapped around his cock as his tip nudges the back of your throat, and your throat tightens around him as he throws his head back, hair messy underneath him as his mouth hangs open.

"A-ah." His eyes waver as your lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to grab the cushion instead of the seat, whimpering. "I-it's so."

You moan around his cock, feeling him swell in your mouth as your nails dig into his thigh, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you try and breathe through your nose. Cael pants as you move slowly, caught off guard when he cums almost immediately down your throat, apologizing as you force yourself to keep him there, the salt from his cum hitting the back of your throat. You swallow, him still in your mouth, and you pull off of him, saliva connected to his cock, opening your mouth to show him that you swallowed everything.

He tries looking away.

"Nuh-uh, Cael. Come on, baby." You force him to look at you as he swallows, skin feverish as you press your lams to his waist, holding him down. He could easily overpower you if he wanted to— yet he doesn't. He doesn't know what force keeps him in place, but it makes him dizzy and weird. He didn't know he was capable of feeling such intense emotion for someone. He wanted to deny that he liked you this much for such a long time, and he swore he wouldn't touch you, yet here he is— his cum in your mouth, your bare skin pressed to his as you kick out of your skirt and panties, and Cael has the urge to throw his decorum out and just fuck you how he's always imagined having you since you're already like this, but god he really shouldn't.

"Cael," You press your cunt to his cock, sliding up and down but not putting it in, and Cael feels his self-restraint slipping. "I know you want to. I started it, so it's fine, right? Come on, you know you want to. Come on, don't you want to see me dripping with your cum? Aren't you tired of seeing me end up with tho—"

The last of Cael's self-control snaps as he flips you over, him over you as you grin at him, shaking your hips to show him how wet you are. He sighs, pulling the hair tie from your wrist to his, pushing his hair back to tie it after pulls you in by the hips and using your slick to lube himself, brows furrowed as your eyes sharpen in excitement, whining for him to put it in already.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" He pants, pressing a thumb to your clit as he slides a finger in, curling it inside you as you gasp excitedly. "You wanted to see me snap and give it to you? After so long?"

You nod your head feverishly as he slides a second finger in with ease, curling them against your sweet spot, making you see stars. You drip around him messily— pussy relishing the touch of something. You tighten around him as he slides in further, adding a third finger as you gasp at the stretch, moaning deliciously as he starts moving the fingers, and you whimper sweetly as you feel your orgasm approaching, babbling about how you were cumming, and Cael hums, watching as you squirt all over him, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm as you cry about how you were starting to get sensitive.

He pulls out a little later, staring at the way his wrist got drenched, and he sticks the fingers into his mouth, pulling you closer by the hips, lining himself up with you.

"You sure?" He whispers.

"Just put it in already!" you wail.

He listens, sliding into you all the way, and your lips part as he stretches you, and your head buzzes dizzily as you finally get what you want. You look up to see him staring at you, and you look down at the bulge in your pelvis; Cael presses on it as your breath hitches, and his eyes glimmer mischievously as he presses again, causing you to jolt.

"Cael." You whimper. "Please start moving."

"Patience, sweetheart." He hums, pulling your hips up as he reaches for a pillow to put under your waist, supporting your back as he finally grabs you by the hips and fucks you.

He drags you slowly on his cock at first, watching you as your expression changes as he moves you, taking note of where you catch yourself before you can whimper and where your lips part just a little more than before.

Then, when he gets it, he moves quicker, watching as you throw your head back and moan wantonly, tears in the corner of your eyes as he moves a hand to thumb at your clit, making your head spin deliriously as he picks up the pace, practically ramming into you as you babble about how good it feels, eyes wide as your nails dig into his forearm, holding on for support as you feel an orgasm approaching, gushing around Cael as he fucks you through it, only slowing down slightly before quickening again when your orgasm finishes, and you cry about how you were still sensitive, but it falls on deaf ears, the male chasing his own high after giving you yours.

The hand of his moves from your clit to your chest, pinching your nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers, staining it with your juices as you whimper, and he leans in to kiss you as you squirm beneath him, his hand still on your waist, holding you in place as you let his tongue explode your mouth, a mess of saliva around the two of you’s mouths as you whimper, feeling another orgasm snaking down your spine and around his cock as the hand on your tit moves down to thumb at your clit again, just enough stimulus to send you over the edge with a moan swallowed by Cael.

You clench around his cock as you feel him swell inside of you, and your walls flutter when you cum again, tears sliding down the corner of your eyes as you try to sit up to stop him, but he holds you down with his body. You fall back into the sofa as you feel him pulse inside of you, fingers threading through his hair to pull on it as he speeds up. Wrapping your legs around his back as to trap him, he spills into your pussy with a lewd groan as you moan from being pumped full. His hold on you weakens as your lips meet his again, lashes fluttering as you feel his thumb circle your clit lazily as he kisses you.

"Mmm..." You moan, arching your back as pulls you up, hands on his chest as he holds your waist. He leans back for air and slips out of you as he reaches to the coffee table to grab a tissue to wipe you down. "You're so hot..." You mumble.

He pries your legs open as you use your fingers to spread your pussy, showing him as his cum trickles out— pearly white sliding down your cunt to land on the couch in a puddle, and Cael feels the blood rush to his head again, making him feel dizzy as he wipes you, hand holding your wrists in place as he cleans you.

"One more." You mumble. "Please?"

"No." He mumbles. "You've had your fill."

"You won't even need to do anything." You bat your lashes at him innocently, pretty pout on your lips. "I'll ride you."

"No." He rejects you, letting go of your wrists as he reaches for another tissue, and you pounce, pushing him back onto the sofa as you hold him down by the hips.

"Your dick says otherwise." You lick your lips, positioning above him and bottoming him out in you almost instantly, a sinful sigh slipping past your lips as he fills you again. He slides in easily with a squelch, and you smile at him. "Please?"

He looks to the side, skin flushed again, and he agrees with a whimper.

He could never say no to you anyway.

[always-a-king-or-queen]

The ache will go away, eventually. 

That was what the Professor told them, the day they got back. When they tumbled from the wardrobe in a heap of tangled limbs, and found that the world had been torn from under their feet with all the kindness of a serpent. 

They picked themselves off of the floorboards with smiles plastered on child faces, and sat with the Professor in his study drinking cup after cup of tea. 

But the smiles were fake. The tea was like ash on their tongues. And when they went to bed that night, none of them could sleep in beds that were too foreign, in bodies that had not been their own for years. Instead they grouped into one room and sat on the floor and whispered, late into the night. 

When morning came, Mrs. Macready discovered the four of them asleep in Peter and Edmund’s bedroom, tangled in a heap of pillows and blankets with their arms looped across one another. They woke a few moments after her entry and seemed confused, lost even, staring around the room with pale faces, eyes raking over each framed painting on the wall and across every bit of furniture as if it was foreign to them. “Come to breakfast,” Mrs. Macready said as she turned to go, but inside she wondered. 

For the children’s faces had held the same sadness that she saw sometimes in the Professor’s. A yearning, a shock, a numbness, as if their very hearts had been ripped from their chests.

At breakfast Lucy sat huddled between her brothers, wrapped in a shawl that was much too big for her as she warmed her hands around a mug of hot chocolate. Edmund fidgeted in his seat and kept reaching up to his hair as if to feel for something that was no longer there. Susan pushed her food idly around on her plate with her fork and hummed a strange melody under her breath. And Peter folded his hands beneath his chin and stared at the wall with eyes that seemed much too old for his face. 

It chilled Mrs. Macready to see their silence, their strangeness, when only yesterday they had been running all over the house, pounding through the halls, shouting and laughing in the bedrooms. It was as if something, something terrible and mysterious and lengthy, had occurred yesterday, but surely that could not be. 

She remarked upon it to the Professor, but he only smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “They’ll be all right,” he said, but she wasn’t so sure. 

They seemed so lost. 

Lucy disappeared into one of the rooms later that day, a room that Mrs. Macready knew was bare save for an old wardrobe of the professor’s. She couldn’t imagine what the child would want to go in there for, but children were strange and perhaps she was just playing some game. When Lucy came out again a few minutes later, sobbing and stumbling back down the hall with her hair askew, Mrs. Macready tried to console her, but Lucy found no comfort in her arms. “It wasn’t there,” she kept saying, inconsolable, and wouldn’t stop crying until her siblings came and gathered her in their arms and said in soothing voices, “Perhaps we’ll go back someday, Lu.” 

Go back where, Mrs. Macready wondered? She stepped into the room Lucy had been in later on in the evening and looked around, but there was nothing but dust and an empty space where coats used to hang in the wardrobe. The children must have taken them recently and forgotten to return them, not that it really mattered. They were so old and musty and the Professor had probably forgotten them long ago. But what could have made the child cry so? Try as she might, Mrs. Macready could find no answer, and she left the room dissatisfied and covered in dust. 

Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan took tea in the Professor’s room again that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They slept in Peter and Edmund’s room, then Susan and Lucy’s, then Peter and Edmund’s again and so on, swapping every night till Mrs. Macready wondered how they could possibly get any sleep. The floor couldn’t be comfortable, but it was where she found them, morning after morning. 

Each morning they looked sadder than before, and breakfast was silent. Each afternoon Lucy went into the room with the wardrobe, carrying a little lion figurine Edmund had carved her, and came out crying a little while later. And then one day she didn’t, and went wandering in the woods and fields around the Professor’s house instead. She came back with grassy fingers and a scratch on one cheek and a crown of flowers on her head, but she seemed content. Happy, even. Mrs. Macready heard her singing to herself in a language she’d never heard before as Lucy skipped past her in the hall, leaving flower petals on the floor in her wake. Mrs. Macready couldn’t bring herself to tell the child to pick them up, and instead just left them where they were. 

More days and nights went by. One day it was Peter who went into the room with the wardrobe, bringing with him an old cloak of the Professor’s, and he was gone for quite a while. Thirty or forty minutes, Mrs. Macready would guess. When he came out, his shoulders were straighter and his chin lifted higher, but tears were dried upon his cheeks and his eyes were frightening. Noble and fierce, like the eyes of a king. The cloak still hung about his shoulders and made him seem almost like an adult. 

Peter never went into the wardrobe room again, but Susan did, a few weeks later. She took a dried flower crown inside with her and sat in there at least an hour, and when she came out her hair was so elaborately braided that Mrs. Macready wondered where on earth she had learned it. The flower crown was perched atop her head as she went back down the hall, and she walked so gracefully that she seemed to be floating on the air itself. In spite of her red eyes, she smiled, and seemed content to wander the mansion afterwards, reading or sketching or making delicate jewelry out of little pebbles and dried flowers Lucy brought her from the woods. 

More weeks went by. The children still took tea in the Professor’s study on occasion, but not as often as before. Lucy now went on her daily walks outdoors, and sometimes Peter or Susan, or both of them at once, accompanied her. Edmund stayed upstairs for the most part, reading or writing, keeping quiet and looking paler and sadder by the day. 

Finally he, too, went into the wardrobe room. 

He stayed for hours, hours upon hours. He took nothing in save for a wooden sword he had carved from a stick Lucy brought him from outside, and he didn’t come out again. The shadows lengthened across the hall and the sun sank lower in the sky and finally Mrs. Macready made herself speak quietly to Peter as the boy came out of the Professor’s study. “Your brother has been gone for hours,” she told him crisply, but she was privately alarmed, because Peter’s face shifted into panic and he disappeared upstairs without a word. 

Mrs. Macready followed him silently after around thirty minutes and pressed an ear to the door of the wardrobe room. Voices drifted from beyond. Edmund’s and Peter’s, yes, but she could also hear the soft tones of Lucy and Susan. 

“Why did he send us back?” Edmund was saying. It sounded as if he had been crying.  

Mrs. Macready couldn’t catch the answer, but when the siblings trickled out of the room an hour later, Edmund’s wooden sword was missing, and the flower crown Susan had been wearing lately was gone, and Peter no longer had his old cloak, and Lucy wasn’t carrying her lion figurine, and the four of them had clasped hands and sad, but smiling, faces. 

Mrs. Macready slipped into the room once they were gone and opened the wardrobe, and there at the bottom were the sword and the crown and the cloak and the lion. An offering of sorts, almost, or perhaps just items left there for future use, for whenever they next went into the wardrobe room.  

But they never did, and one day they were gone for good, off home, and the mansion was silent again. And it had been a long time since that morning that Mrs. Macready had found them all piled together in one bedroom, but ever since then they hadn’t quite been children, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed the steps again to the floor of the house where the old wardrobe was, and then went into the room and crossed the floor to the opposite wall. 

When she pulled the wardrobe door open, the four items the Pevensie children had left inside of it were missing. 

And just for a moment, it seemed to her that a cool gust of air brushed her face, coming from the darkness beyond where the missing coats used to hang.

[chiscribbs]

(I feel like I've sent an ask here before so if you already have had me send you this- send this ask into the shadow realm)

He says hi!

-void brothers

(Your mikey is alone, he's gonna get a hello from a floaty boy)

Oops... Sorry about that, he's, uh... He's a little bit jumpy. Don't worry, it's just spray paint.

More @tmntaucompetition shenanigans!

[Grown Apart AU] [INTRO]

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[y-rhywbeth2]

While being undead is mostly downsides, at least you can visit that city in the Negative Energy plane. Bunch of towers built inside a giant metal sphere that drifted into the plane after their homeworld died then all the survivors died in a zombie apocalypse. Not a single living resident left and all the politicians are liches and vampires squabbling for power with a vampiric minotaur making all the factions shut up and get along while he encourages planar research in what is probably a bid for ruling the universe. It's probably a riot in there. Like dead evil Sigil without the philosophy, and it's a ball instead of a doughnut on a stick.

Unless an undead villain has a holiday home there I am not impressed.

[qsmpzine]

PREORDERS NOW CLOSED!

Thank you to everyone who preordered a copy of Chronicles!! We sold over 100 physical copies, reaching our 2nd stretch goal just before the shop closed! All physical orders will now come with a free postcard AND a free acrylic keychain! The mod team is hard at work, ordering samples and preparing for shipping! We will keep this blog and our twitter updated with the latest news about merchandise and shipping. Thank you all again so much for supporting this project!

[joenhead]

Mavrus being genuine was not only an incredibly funny moment but also weirdly enough, incredibly sweet.

(If you can’t read the words, it is Mavrus saying “You say special stuff all the time” because that moment really stuck out to me like wow ok Mavrus)

This doodle is actually from my second relisten of Blazing Babe because that mini arc makes me laugh SO HARD. They’re all idiots I hate them (Pos)