#they need some happy fic

[fox-guardian]

man this sucks (<- likes a niche character that hardly has any fan content)

[themissingmango]

[starkspi]

From "Unadulterated Loathing" in which Charlie chains these two idiots accidentally together by @otsmosis (who made this comment at the end of the last chapter and inspired me to do whatever this is above)

[damian-lil-babybat]

'Dead Poets Society' gang

Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.

Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne

Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne

Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne

Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne

[salemoleander]

Headed back to her base after the session ended, lack of speed weighing down every step, she really shouldn’t have stopped to chat with Joel. He asks about Gem, because of course he does, and she grits her teeth and charitably changes the subject.

He asks again.

Stupidly- because he’s her friend, because he was a Mounder, because she'd love for someone to not learn the hard way- she tries to explain.

“You can’t trust her, Joel. I know you won’t listen, because I’m evil and cursed and everything everyone says and she’s your family-” She spits family like a piece of flint. “-but I’d rather be outcast and know where I stand than pair up with someone like Gem.”

“You’ve got your group, haven’t you? I don’t see why you’re so angry at her for still not trusting you, it’s not like you’re alone. Scott and everyone have welcomed you back with open arms!”

Pearl snorts. “Yeah, to be the family pet. ‘Everyone come look at our bright red monster! Don’t get too close, she bites!’”

“Well, you did immediately start to change your skin to Scarlet Pearl,” Joel points out, dismissive. “Bit weird to do, if you didn’t want everyone to think you’re dangerous.”

“If they’re going to treat me like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I’d rather just be a wolf. At least then people know I have teeth.” She grins, canines jagged against her bottom lip.

He grimaces, and makes a shooing motion in her direction. “Okay, freaky wolf lady, time to get off my lawn. Go annoy someone else.”

She’s always impressed by how well Joel manages to project disinterest, when there’s a conversation he doesn’t want to be in. Pearl tilts her head, fixing him with a flat, yellow-eyed stare. “How’s the pretending to be family thing going, Joel? Still as much fun as you were hoping for?”

“We’re not pretending, and it’s going great,” he says, stone-faced, eyes trained on the horizon to the right of her shoulder. “Gem’s the best team- the best family I could ask for.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Pearl drawls. “I bet it feels nice right now! You’ve both got sooooo many lives- she isn’t even afraid of you, yet. No paranoia, not like crazy Pearlie and her team.”

Joel flinches - just a tiny bit, she’d never notice if she wasn’t so close to red- and then scoffs. “Well you’ve got one thing right, you are crazy.”

“I might be!” She agrees brightly. “But not about this. Gem’s too new to know how to see past the fear. She doesn’t know where you started, what you used to be.”

“What do you blumming mean, what I used to be?” He looks off-kilter, and Pearl lets that question hang for a moment as the possibilities spin around them: A king? A god? Her friend?

“She doesn’t know you were a wolf, Joel.” Pearl says in a hushed tone, gentle and honest. “Are a wolf, really, can’t change your spots! And when you start dying, when you get hungry, when she sees herself reflected in red eyes, Gem will treat you just like she treats me.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Pearl.” His voice is rough. “I’m not some lone wolf, I have friends now! I was with Grian and Jim, and- last season, even, we were in a group!”

“Some of us- a lot of us!- don’t care about wolves anymore. Especially wolves like you, pretending to be dogs, all loyal and helpful. But Gem is new, and at some point the threat is going to dawn on her.” She offers, voice smooth as glass, “If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll let you die like a dog for her, instead of putting you down herself.”

“You don’t- Get out of our base.” Joel’s knuckles are blanched, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s angry - good. Maybe he’ll remember this, when Gem sends him on a suicide mission or cuts him down for the win.

Maybe he’ll learn, faster than she did, there’s no use pretending to be a dog.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

(Small, frivolous rant incoming, apologies)

One thing I wish the Destiny fandom did more of was dabble in the utter horror this universe holds, especially when it comes to portraying the vile atrocities committed by many of the cosmic level characters.

Destiny‘s T rating holds it back so much in my opinion (but it still manages to lay down excellent foundations for horror and more mature themes!!) and I really wish there was more fan works that explored the unimaginable tragedies that occur in lore!!

When you really dwell on the scale of many of the disasters that happen in lore, it really dawns on you just how sinister and monstrous many of the larger villains are. Antagonists like Eramis are much more grounded, certainly not saints though, but some of the antagonists we have encounter are truly odious in their behaviors, even if they are deluded into thinking what they are doing is correct (like the Osmium siblings ravaging whole star systems in pursuit of the sword).

For example, it’s no secret that I LOATHE the Witness like no other. This wicked entity has me fighting bile at the mere thought of it and I truly think the way it delivers cruelty with such a sense of compassion and righteousness to be the most stomach wrenching form of being baneful. I could not think of an entitlement more deplorable than the Witness‘ and it’s existence is a travesty that has caused irreparable harm that spans EONS.

Yet, in my experience, I never see much content that taps into the horrors experienced by those touched by the Witness and its pawns, such as the Noesis and humanity during the collapse. There are INCREDIBLE artistic and written works that tap into the psychological horrors of exos and the unethical hell Clovis was putting people through, but not as many on the more cosmic horrors from what I have seen!!

This may just be a me thing and the personal reasons why I want the Witness put under a hydraulic press speaking, but I often see plenty of depictions of the Witness being uncharacteristically soft and having deeper feelings towards its disciples, but works about its vengeful rage, simple mindedness, violation of the autonomy of others, and predatory grooming are quite barren.

I wish to see just how HEINOUS it is displayed in all its turpitude and how it leaves a festering rot on everything and everyone it touches. I love the Witness because it is so evil in it‘s actions and my heart SINGS any time I see people tap into the trauma it causes, especially for characters like Rhulk or Savathûn!!

There is so much room for exploring just how vast the Destiny universe is when you decenter perpetrators in stories and focus on the incomprehensible number of victims.

Destiny genuinely has a character running around with the title „The Final God of Pain“ haunting people and refusing to permanently die, but there is only so much a T rated game can do and I feel like Destiny enjoyers can go beyond what’s in game in such creative ways!! Just thinking of the fall of Torobatl has me going „Wow, I’m actually so sick to my stomach, I need to honor Caiatl and really capture the pain of such an event!“

The latest lore on the Qugu? My chest HURTS.

Some of the hive experimentations? The hive in general? Hell is not hot enough for what the Witness lead them into.

But you know what they say, be the change you want to see in the world! Create the content you want to enjoy and promote the content you do enjoy!! I wish to dabble into the darker areas of lore, and of course, promote Witness hatred any chance I get!! Hopefully I get more time to write about these things and really value the work the Destiny writers have put into portraying such strong feelings of loss time and time again!!

And also!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read The Garden‘s Witness by Titanmaster_117 !!! ESPECIALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER, I COULD RANT ABOUT THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF PROSE ALL DAY, IT GENUINELY MADE ME CRY!! PROMOTE THE CONTENT YOU ENJOY ALL DAY, EVERYDAY!!

But this is just something I’ve been thinking for some time now. This isn’t condemning anyone in the fandom or saying there is an issue, just a desire I would love to see (and hopefully fulfill if I ever get back into writing for Destiny!) If you guys have any recommendations for Destiny works that are horrific, focus on themes of loss and devastation, or hate on the Witness, feel free to mention them so other people can find them!!

Not enough Witness hate going around for my liking… this looks like a job for me.

[choccy-milky]

I would do anything to see Clora clobber the fuck out of Duncan fr

LMFAOO THIS IS SO FUNNY...ITS JUST SO RANDOM IT MADE ME LAUGH WHEN I GOT IT BAHAHA😭😭 so here you go anon, just for you 😌🙏

yes he is!! i headcanon that him and clora grow old together and once clora dies of old age, seb's job of protecting her is finally done so he breaks the horcrux and then follows her soon after 🥲 that means she'd die before him tho/he'd watch her die AND I HATE THINKING ABOUT THAT...SO I DONT....Kat_12739 on ao3 wrote about it in chapters 11 and 12 of every teardrop is a waterfall and in her version/story, sebastian outlives clora AND lewis and celeste, and its only once theyre ALL dead only then does sebastian break the horcrux and let himself die/meets them in the afterlife AND GIRL U BETTER BELIEVE I WAS SOBBING MY EYES OUT WHEN I READ THOSE CHAPTERS LMAOO so yes seb is immortal and will outlive clora BUT WE DONT THINK ABOUT THAT!!!!!! TRALALALALA

yandere anon idk who you are but i love you, the fact that you sent this ask IMMEDIATELY after i talked about which wip i should work on next is so funny. YANDERE SEB IS NEXT JUST FOR U, DW🫵

[setmeatopthepyre]

WIP wednesday enabled/tagged-ish by @peapodbond & @geddyqueer <3 really felt like sharing this slice of antarct-fic. enjoy!

-

Katie slides the bottle towards him. “Drink up, kid. The rations don't carry over.”

Buck happily obliges. They drink in companionable quiet for a while, Katie occasionally providing commentary on the people coming and going or doing the rounds, telling Buck who they are, how long they've been coming to the Ice, pointing out the winterovers and the ones with interesting stories.

They're watching two pilots (“That's Hisham, helo pilot, third timer. Girlfriend's a kiwi, she's at Scott base. Other fella's one of the Canadians with Ken-Borek. Loïc, think it was. Fixed wing pilot. They tend not to get along.”) get into an argument that both men seem too tired to actually escalate, when Buck speaks up.

“Katie, have you ever been in love?”

She dangles her bottle from between her finger tips, eyes still on the argument unfolding. “Sure.”

He props his head up on his hand to look at her. “What happened?”

Katie levels her steely gaze at him but something she sees makes her soften a little. Shrugs. “She ran off to go study insular dwarfism in Madagascan chameleons. Left me behind.”

Buck's eyebrows raise along with the corners of his mouth. “Oh. S-so you're--”

She nods, taps her bottle against his. Leans in and mock-whispers, “There's more of us than y'think, kid. Even out here.” Considers it. “Perhaps especially out here. The Ice tends to attracts people like us.”

Buck watches her take a swig of her drink and lets the words sink in. “Wait, what do you mean, 'people like us?'”

Her pale eyebrows inch towards the edge of her bandana. “What do you think I mean, Buckley?” She gestures at herself. “The gays, the dykes, the-- whatever you are. You know. The queers.”

“Oh.” Something uncomfortable twists in his gut. “I-I'm not--”

Katie leans back, genuine surprise written across her face. “Well I'm sorry, kid. I could'a sworn last night you spent all of three beers waxing poetic about your helo guy.”

Buck makes a face. “W-well. He-- he's not my... but--”

“You're in love with this man, yeah?”

And he can't help the lovestruck smile that's tugging at the corners of his mouth, dips his head. “Yeah.”

“And you're a guy.”

“Uh, o-obviously.”

“So you're...” she gestures and Buck realizes he's supposed to finish the sentence. He shifts in his seat, discomfort gnawing at him.

“Yeah, I, uh. Yes, I-I guess that would make me...” he trails off, looks at her pleadingly, not sure if he wants her to give him all the answers or just drop the subject entirely.

“So, what, are you homophobic?”

Katie's raspy voice still carries, and Buck casts a panicked glance around the bar. Thankfully, no one seems to have heard her. Or they're really good at hiding it. “No! No. No, of-- of course not. I-I'm... I've always been an ally.”

She raises her eyebrows. “An ally who's in love with a man but can't even say out loud that he's... what? Gay? Bi?”

He gives her a desperate look from where he has his face practically pressed against the tabletop. “Right? I-I should know, shouldn't I? How-- How can I-I not know?”

He's whining. That was definitely a whine.

As if by some miracle, Katie looks less unimpressed with him than she usually does, which doesn't say a whole lot, especially considering the fact that she's not even looking at him right now. She's staring off into space as she takes a long swig from her bottle. When she speaks, her voice is uncharacteristically gentle.

“You came all the way out here to follow the guy you're in love with,” she says, slowly, as if trying to explain something to a particularly dense but, arguably, loved child. Then she sighs, puts a calloused hand on his. “Look, kid, you don't need to choose from a whole bunch of labels. Hell, the only labels I knew 'til well into my thirties was dykes and fags.” And Buck tries not to flinch, but she clocks him anyway if the roll of her eyes is anything to go by.

She pats his hand. “You don't need any labels at all if y'don't want them. God knows they probably never think about it.” She gestures at the other bar patrons with her bottle. “But there's not needing a label, and there's bein' ashamed of what that label means, and a lot of us older folk used the former as an excuse for the latter for a long time. Claiming that label means something to us. It doesn't have to, for you, but if your guy spent any time in the closet, it might mean a whole lot to him.”

Buck takes a moment for the words to sink in. “What, so he thinks I'm... ashamed of my feelings for him?”

She pats his hand twice more before removing hers and leaning back. “Hell if I know, I'm not a mind reader.”

-

no pressure tagging @ambernotember @sugarpenchant @geddyqueer @beanarie @epiphainie @leashybebes @iphyslitterator @rcmclachlan @trombonechurchill

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

if Crozier had a nickel for every time someone close to him kept a mortal wound secret from him he'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's definitely enough to give him some very specific trauma for the rest of his life

[meowkunas]

falling asleep on you !

w/ al haitham, wanderer, diluc, tartaglia/childe

a/n: under the cut because they got really long omg

al haitham likes to rest his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired. when it's in a more private setting, he'll lay his head in your lap instead. a loud, satisfied sigh will leave his lips once he's in this position. it's almost as though all the tenseness in his body simply dissipates once you start running your fingers through his hair. he rarely drifts off for a nap, but he looks close enough to peace when he's lying down like that.

it's the closest you'll ever get to having him be needy or clingy in any way. he tends to lean his whole weight onto you without explicit warning, so it's taken some practice to make sure you don't fall over on to one side — helplessly squashed.

there are signs to look out for.

you'll notice him staring at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure you're comfortable with how you're sitting before he places his head on your shoulder. sometimes he'll even mention that it's very "quiet and peaceful" before nearly knocking you over with a heavy slump.

when he's been kept up late for too many nights, he really will drift off to sleep. he's heavy and he makes your entire body ache from trying to hold him up, but you can't really bear to move him, especially not when he smiles in his sleep after you brush your fingers over his cheek.

he won't tell you that he always wakes from your sudden touch.

and with how cute he thinks you are when you're trying not to wake him, he doubts he ever will.

"i don't need sleep." wanderer announces proudly. it takes him exactly nine minutes to pass out after you promise that you'll keep watch while he's resting. you even make sure that he's asleep by waving your hands in front of his face to see whether his eyes twitch. nothing.

he doesn't even breathe.

his arms stay crossed over his chest and his hair falls onto one side. completely at rest.

still, this is the last thing you were expecting would happen. you resist the urge to touch his face. you haven't gotten that far with him yet.

unfortunately, you end up falling asleep beside him instead of keeping watch. there's something so comforting about his weight on yours, that you lean back into him, just to close your eyes for a few minutes.

the next time you wake is with the morning sun, and with a blanket haphazardly thrown over you. you fight with it for a bit, tangling your arms even further.

"oh good, you're up," comes the familiar, haughty voice. you expect to be berated for falling asleep, but he says something different instead. "thank you."

"huh?" you murmur intelligently. it's not fair that he does this when you're still groggy from sleeping.

he turns away, pretending he said nothing else. you smile at his back. guess he's still full of surprises.

diluc's very gentle with you. he's always been the one to beckon you over once he notices you yawning or when you look a little down. the way he caresses you while wrapping you in his arms is enough to send you straight to sleep. it's cozy.

but you've never seen him asleep before you. he's always been the one to creep back into your shared bed at the crack of dawn, when you're just awake enough to know that he's there.

this time, you're the one late.

he's already sleep — legs stretched out and turned onto one side. you take a single step forward and jump as he snores, disturbing the silence.

you crawl into the bed, facing the outline of his back. you reach out for him just to hesitate before actually touching him. what if he wakes up if you try to cuddle him? what if he has a really busy day tomorrow and he'll be frustrated with not getting enough sleep?

he answers the myriad of questions for you. just your presence must be enough for him to know you're there in his sleep. he ends up turning over to face you and bundling you up in his arms, letting out a huff. on the other hand, you're tense, unsure if you've accidentally awoken him or not.

"diluc?" you mumble.

the only answer is his steady breathing.

hope you're ready to stay squished in that same position for the whole night.

tartaglia pesters you with affection. he shows up at your door in the middle of the night sometimes, claiming he has "no where else to go right now". on certain nights, he'll be covered in blood that's definitely not his with a fiery look in his eyes as though he's set alight from the inside. he's not really there on those nights.

more often, he shows up with a cheery look on his face that disappears once you start to clean him up. you don't need to look at him to know that he's already staring at you.

tartaglia is always quiet in both types of nights; an unsettled nature or a calm energy. you're never sure what you're going to get.

but you know this: he would always show up after long periods of disappearing, even if it was just the smallest scrape. just to see you.

he'll be the one tucking himself in between your legs on the couch, no matter how many times you tell him that his legs are too long and he's way too heavy to lean back on you like that. but he does it. somehow.

when you start to grow tired from listening to his shenanigans, he becomes so gentle with you. he'll carry you to bed and hold you until you sleep.

he's gone in the morning, or maybe he leaves once he's sure that you've been lulled to sleep. either way, you know he was here. even if he tries to disappear without a trace.

he's always here on the nights that you sleep the best after all.

[alexbutrandomthoughts]

My heart cannot take any more angst at the moment, imma go read fanfiction where they all happy and alive and Dokja is not the etheral dead wife haunting the narrative, thank you, be right fucking back

[findafight]

Robin chose Steve. Robin made the conscious and deliberate decision that she could and would trust Steve. She already liked him! She had fun working and bantering with him! They were already on their way to being weird little bffs and the torture just expedited the process. Steve chose Robin just the same! He thinks she's fun and cool and likes her so much! He chose to be honest and open with her too, putting himself out there.

Even though their interests on the surface level don't match why wouldn't they share them? Steve clearly caves when Robin wants to watch a movie he doesn't think he'll like, Robin can watch a March madness game or five.

Stop trying to take away their bond oh my god people can be close to more than one person!!! Their best friend doesn't have to be dismissive or mean or whatever in order for a romance to be special to them!

[luckyartdrawer]

(Bitter) Sweet! Art & Drabble

For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list! There's still plenty of time before the first prompt is due (Jan 12th), and there's 2 other prompts as well for the month! Definitely check it out lovelies! <3

Drabble name: Instability Of The Heart Contents: Sun x reader, Heavy Pinning, Bitter Sweetness Chosen Words: Clouds, Opals, Celebration, Star-crossed, Letting Go, Hope, Candle Word Count: 1,625

AO3 version now available!

(Close Ups are also at the bottom <3)

It’s been a whole year…

Unsure how to approach the festivities now, Sun decided to find a quiet spot instead, spending all morning setting things up to participate in his own way. He couldn't not join in, but it just wouldn't be right to go back into the thick of it either.

The not-too-far-off town square, only a mile below his expanse of cloud, is alive in the lieu of celebration. The live orchestra plays the same casual songs, their passion dying the expanse of clouds they rest upon pink with their infectious energy, and the music drifts up clear as day to his ears despite the distance. The community brightens at each strum of a chord, chatter so lively that they create lyrics to their own song. They all are so alight that even once the sun sets, not even a single candle will be necessary to keep the festival bathed in a warm glow.

Sun sighed as he looked towards his namesake, feeling both relief and dread seeing it only moved a little since he last checked, located slightly past the center of the sky above him. Any moment now the square should clear its center and engage in its Hearthwarming Dance.

A spark crackles in his chest, sending longing pangs to his heart and head. It swirls through the burning magma and dips through every ligament, the tips of his fingers and toes buzzing with the itch to do something.

He turns to his partner, waiting for the first note of the new song to swell before grabbing their soft hand and whispering,

“May I have this dance?”

Without his usual banter, Sun embraces them and sways to the familiar beat without hesitation.

Upon closing his eyes, he is suddenly not dancing on a patchy field of clouds, but rather upon a lively opal plaza shimmering in the warm sunlight; the polished stone reflecting all those lovely pink clouds to create a mosaic, speckled with a rainbow of beautiful color.

Yet, the way you shined changed everything. It had completely ruined his view of beauty.

Your smile glistened through the sheer cloud of stardust that orbits around your form. Your eyes were as hypnotic as the ring of light you absorb, blindingly white before turning into a pitch black that's impossible for him to comprehend. He could barely even remember what you wore that day, too busy memorizing your face.

You were a star that had gone supernova, a rarity unseen for the last 3 centuries, let alone for a star of your kind.

Even the thought of your imagery causes him to inhale sharply. He clutches at his partner tightly, mindless of the give as he steps around in a traditional dance.

You were so scared when the change happened all those months ago...

Sun had found you holed up in your dark room, begging him to not look at you. He had initially come over to barge down your door for being an hour late to meet him, only to find your home was unlocked. It wasn't too unusual, so he welcomed himself inside, used to doing so after years of friendship.

His bitterness over how you kept him waiting for so long evaporated at finding your tearful state, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for your usual wear and voice.

He's still ashamed to say that he was enraptured by you despite the state you were in.

You were a glimmering dwarf star before, enchanting enough as is, and yet somehow you turned into something even more bewitching, compounding his years of desire into something even stronger. It felt right. Not to see you sad, but to see you in that form. Everything about it felt like you. The pull was indescribable in every step he took, the very essence of you invading his senses.

As soon as he recounts reassuring you, drying your tears, and pulling you into a hug; he snaps back to having you in his arms in the light of day, grasping his right hand and prancing with ease across the square, expertly avoiding other participants.

The magnetic pull is intense, the need to somehow get closer and closer was nearly impossible to ignore. He wanted to run away from such a force, yet he only clutched your hand tighter as he spun you, pulling your back into his chest and locking you there for a beat too long.

He was so afraid that you could read his every move, regardless of knowing your sheer obliviousness to his desires.

You always playfully indulged his yearly insistence of being your dance partner, yet nothing had come of it from either side. But this time, his gaze was constantly locked with yours, unable to break contact. His possessive grip had ensnared you, barely leaving even an inch between you. He couldn't help but pause, disregarding the mass of bodies moving around him, wanting to hold you forever.

How could it not be obvious?

Regardless, he knew it was inevitable he'd spill out his soul to you soon, barely able to restrain his lips from colliding into yours at that very moment.

He hoped, he prayed, he begged like a mantra to the celestial mother that you'd feel the same. That this magnetism isn't so one sided. That restraint would one day be unnecessary and he'd finally be able to drink in the flavor of your kiss.

Only mere seconds had passed when he released you from his hold, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Perhaps to you, nothing did happen.

Would that explain what had happened?

He spent that whole day with you, following you to vendors with traditional carbon foods and indulging in your proximity as you'd graze hands and bump shoulders on occasion, finally left comfortably alone as the town's people were accustomed to your new appearance by then.

He was more than happy to scoop you up the moment you said you were getting tired and overwhelmed. You insisted that you didn't want the fun to end, but he could tell by the sound of your voice that you at least needed a change of pace.

The sun was setting when he leapt up stray puffs of clouds to the field above the plaza. He pranced in circles, leaping gaps to the dying beats of music, and teasing about dropping you through them when you didn't believe he could cross. Your rivers of laughter only fueled his audacity, as he never wanted to hear them end. Inevitably, his foot barely slipped off the edge of one of his more daring jumps, causing the two of you to fall forward and collide with the cloud beneath you.

Despite the grunt the two of you made at the impact, you were quick to laugh at Sun’s failure, teasing him about his cockiness biting him in the behind.

But Sun couldn't ignore the press of his body on top of yours, the echoing melody of your voice ensnaring his throat, refusing to allow him to even draw breath, let alone words. His mind fogged over, the only reprieve to his pinning troubles all pointed towards you, and he desperately needed that relief.

Your lips were more delicious than he could have ever dreamed of, your endearing expression was wide eyed and glowing.

Glowing so much that he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to recuperate, despite how much he wanted to savor your appearance.

And then with a fluttering blink, he's back in the present, kneeling down in the same position over some sad facimally of you. The cloud he molded this morning was mangled already from his delusions, but due to his fall it had melded into the cloud below it, its pink color feeling more taunting than sweet.

Sun looked down at his hand to find a tiny piece of said cloud still in it, a tear welling up in his eye.

It was too fitting.

In that original moment, it was as if you dissolved right in his arms after that kiss, but he refuses to believe anything bad happened. He searched your home, your favorite places, and even contacted your friends and family. No one knew where you were.

Some believed you to be dead after he finally admitted what happened between the two of you.

He vehemently denied that possibility, despite the plausibility. You were barely older than he was, still spry with centuries of life ahead of you. You couldn't just die from a kiss…

The only spark of hope he was given was when he questioned one of the elder Neutron stars, one of whom recalled personally knowing a singular supernova; one who had been taken suddenly to a world beyond the sky to contain their unstable make up. They had returned only once to explain their departure, before saying goodbye for their next one shortly after.

Sun brought the small puff of cloud to his lips – it should have been your hand.

He couldn't repress the tear that escaped him.

It's been a year since your disappearance. He still hasn't given up on his star-crossed lover, if he may even call you that. Your sudden departure left him wanting, stagnant, unsure of so many things.

If you reciprocated, wouldn't you have come back to him by now..?

Overtime, many have caught onto his depressed demeanor and advised him that it's best to learn to let go.

Preaching that waiting is fruitless.

Denouncing the Neutron’s tall tale of some magical plain snatching you away.

Scolding Sun for ruining his life over some runaway star.

However, he cannot help it; you own all the hope he has left. As he is unfortunately, completely, woefully in love with you.

Close Ups!

[violetvulpini]

Finally finished the refs for my The Protomen designs! The ones labeled PMQ are for this fic! An extra design and concepts below the cut (mild flashing light warning for the gif, it's slow but just in case!)

[Please reblog, don't repost!]

Here's Quint! He's an old robot by this point.

A quick showcase of how Protoman's eyes are sometimes visible:

And various doodles as I tried to figure out their designs! Some are outdated, but I still like them.

And finally! Height chart!

[the-dream-team]

She was there, staring into infinity and finding herself staring back. With the stars shining, the painting came alive, shimmering and sparkling and bouncing its brilliance around the room[...] With a gasp, Lily noticed the dots of light reflected onto her dress, her arms, the glare catching in her eye. Like a disco ball, the painting scattered its light. She looked down at herself and saw that she was made of starlight. Who Knows Who Cares, Chapter 17

[starryeyedstray]

have a little rk1k fic bc i could not get @homunculusalphonse post about rk1k weather-related trauma out of my head. it's a rainy day in new jericho and markus just wants to hide. but connor finds him.

Markus didn’t like rainy days. It felt ridiculous. To let a little rain affect him. Usually, if more urgent problems garnered his attention, he could ignore the dread that came. He could focus on what was important and archive those memories as fast as they appeared. He could overcome it when he was busy and fully invested in something else. But on days like these when there were no pressing matters that forced him to be a leader of the deviants, to be a pillar of the revolution, he would hide. On days like these, he would tell the other leaders of Jericho that he needed some rest. Markus never asked for rest, so they never protested when he did. They just let him go.

It had been raining a lot lately. The icy pinpricks of water chilled him. The drizzling sound haunted him. Reminded him of the static and the mud and the reaching desperate hands. The blank faces. The desperate faces. His among them as he salvaged what he could from who he could. Digging through the dead.

He had to get away. Find some quiet place.

But he couldn’t escape the rain. Not here in New Jericho. The best place he could manage in the repurposed office building was a supply closet. But the rain was loud today. He could hear it heavy against the roof. Pounding against the windows.

He shut the door and made his way to the back of the closet sitting on the floor between two shelves. Markus clutched his right eye. Sometimes he could tell it didn’t belong to him. A discomfort lingering in his skull. Like a piece of that hellish junkyard had stayed with him. Followed him out. Haunted him. Like the memories of that place were imprinted into this eye. Everything he saw with it and everything it witnessed before.

The faces of those left behind flashed in his mind. He remembered their ghostly touches. The hands grasping for him. Desperate to live. They just wanted to live. Why were they discarded so easily? Why was he discarded so easily? Left to rot in the junkyard. To be forgotten. Left to die. He felt himself sinking. Sinking into the mud. He had left them in the junkyard. To be forgotten. To die.

“Markus?”

Markus’ head snapped to his left. He hadn't noticed someone come in. There was a figure standing between the shelves across the small room.

“Connor.” He dropped his hands that had been clutching the sides of his head. He tightened them into a fist. He had to be the strong leader. He couldn’t be vulnerable. “How did you find me?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.

“I was looking through every unoccupied room in New Jericho. I was lucky to find you after the tenth one.”

Markus straightened. Blinking his memories away. He was unable to stand, however. He was caught off-guard. He hadn’t expected anyone to find him. He couldn’t be falling apart in front of Connor. “Did you need something from me?”

Connor seemed to study him. Head slightly tilting before he walked deeper into the room. He sat with Markus on the floor. Brown eyes regarded him one more time before looking away as he began to speak, “I noticed a pattern. You only seem to want to take breaks on rainy days. I asked the others about it. They hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out.” He paused before asking, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Connor’s eyes were now riveted on him. Markus could never look away whenever Connor stared at him. The inquisitive brown eyes always seemed to draw him in. “Sure.”

“Do you not like the rain?”

Markus frowned. He didn’t like lying to people, so he opted to not tell the whole truth. “I’m not fond of it. I prefer to stay dry.”

Connor was still looking at him intently. He wondered what Connor could see.

The deviant finally broke his gaze to stare ahead. “Does it scare you?”

“That would be ridiculous,” Markus asserted. He wasn’t lying. It was ridiculous to be scared of rain. It wasn’t like the rain had done anything to him. It just happened to be raining. He closed his eyes as he felt the pull of his memories before he quickly opened them to refocus on Connor.

Connor’s eyes were locked forward a bit unfocused. “I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I don’t like the snow.” His LED flashed red for the briefest of moments. That got Markus’ full attention.

“Does it scare you?” he repeated Connor’s question back at him.

“Yes.” Connor turned to him with a sad smile. “You must think I’m ridiculous.”

Markus immediately regretted his previous statement; his head automatically shaking. “No, I don’t think that. I just think it would be ridiculous for me to be scared of rain.”

“Why would it be ridiculous for you and not for me?”

Markus hesitated. Connor was a master at pointing out logical fallacies. Markus was a great debater, but no one could beat Connor when it came to a battle of logic and words. And he knew what ever excuse he came up with, Connor would easily poke holes in his argument. So he either had to admit that Connor was ridiculous or that he wasn’t being ridiculous.

He opted to avoid the question. “Why were you looking for me, Connor?”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed at Markus’ clear avoidance of the question, but he didn’t mention it. His brows relaxed as he became pensive. “Sometimes when it snows heavily, I get what humans refer to as a flashback. A memory will be pulled up suddenly. A memory I rather forget. It isn’t pleasant. Hank has helped me snap out of them. We talk about it and sometimes that helps. Sometimes it helps to share the burden with someone else.”

Markus looked down at his hands. He had never told anyone about his experience in the junkyard. Not Simon. Not Josh. Not North. Not even Carl. Could he tell Connor?

“I understand you might be hesitant to trust me.”

That wasn’t true. Markus trusted Connor with his life.

“But, even if it’s not me. If you are having flashbacks, it can be helpful to talk about them to someone. I know you have a reputation to uphold. You have to appear strong and unbreakable. But there is strength in vulnerability, too, Markus.”

Strength in vulnerability. Connor was right. It took courage to be vulnerable. Maybe he could be vulnerable. At least in front of one person. In front of Connor.

“I really don’t like the rain. It reminds me of…” Markus trailed off his eyes becoming distant as he felt the pull of the memories. The rain was so loud. Beating against the plastic bodies of discarded androids.

“Markus, look at me.”

Markus’ eyes flickered to Connor’s. Warm brown eyes. Those eyes had changed so much since he first saw them in Jericho. They were still the same brown full of life though.

“You don’t have to talk about it now, Markus. I’m sure it’s difficult while it’s raining. But I want to help you. What do you need?”

Before Markus could even contemplate an answer, the rain intensified. Thunder cracking. The rain slamming against the windows. Markus closed his eyes. It felt too real suddenly. He was back crawling in the mud. Looking to fill the missing pieces of himself. Filling them with the dying pieces of those abandoned in the junkyard.

“Markus.”

Markus had forgotten Connor was there. His hands were now covering his own ears, but it did little to dampen the noise. He couldn’t keep up the façade anymore, he just wanted it to stop. A pained expression crossed his face. His eyes filled with a tinge of desperation. “I just wish I could be somewhere quiet.”

For Connor, getting out of the snow was enough for him to feel safe again. But Markus couldn’t escape just from hiding inside. The sound of the rain was omnipresent in the building. Connor’s short-lived experience only had memories of a snowy or rainy Detroit, but there was one place he knew that was quiet.

“Maybe I can help you find some quiet.” Connor offered his hand to interface. Connor didn’t like interfacing. But he wanted to help Markus. After everything Markus had done for his people, for him, he wanted to give him at least a little bit of solace.

Markus would have been more surprised by the offer if he wasn’t being plagued by the past. He knew Connor didn’t like interfacing. But in his current state, he simply retracted his skin and placed his hand on Connor’s.

It was finally quiet.

Memories of a peaceful garden flooded him. A stone path winding around a lake. Artfully placed plants and trees. A fragrant cherry blossom tree. A blue sky. Flowers blooming and a soft breeze. It was so quiet. Just the warble of birds occasionally decorating the peaceful soundscape. He felt calm. He wondered when Connor had gone to a place so beautiful.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed of him wandering the garden through Connor’s memories. But after a while, he sensed something was off. The memories weren’t connected. Connor was purposely cutting parts of his memories out. Keeping parts of it away from Markus.

Connor broke the interface when he noticed the sky getting cloudy in the garden. Despite the sudden cut-off, Markus was still replaying those memories in his mind. It was so beautiful. Too perfect even. Unreal. He stared off a bit distantly. The memories of that place were so vivid and clear. It didn’t feel natural.

“Where is that place?” Markus asked. His gaze still unfocused. There was something else he was barely able to detect about the garden. “And why does it make you feel…” Uncomfortable? Uncertain? Tense? He couldn’t finish the question. But he knew Connor felt something that wasn’t pleasant about the garden.

“Are you feeling better?” Connor asked. His LED casting a yellow amber glow across the room.

The rain had lightened. It’s pitter patter against the pavement and the window outside could still be heard. But Markus couldn’t hear them anymore. All his attention was on Connor.

“Yes, much better. But what was that place?”

Connor dropped to look at his hands. He rubbed them together before placing them on his knees. Strength in vulnerability. Talking about it helps. “It’s the Zen Garden. It’s a virtual place that Cyberlife created for me to go to monitor my actions. To see if I was deviating. It almost became my prison when Amanda tried to take complete control over me.”

Amanda. Connor had told them about Amanda. About how Cyberlife almost regained control over him. It had caused a rift between them for a while, but Connor has more than proved that he wasn’t a danger to New Jericho. Connor hadn’t gotten into explicit details about the experience before though.

“It must be painful to remember that place. Why were you willing to share that with me?”

“I used to find comfort in there. I liked the Zen Garden. It was calming. I think a part of me wanted to go back to when that’s all it was. A quiet place for me. I also wanted to help you, Markus. For you to find a quiet place. But I don’t have many quiet places in my memories. At least, not ones not associated with Cyberlife. But you deserve to have the peace you’re fighting for, too.”

Markus’ thirium pump sped up. Something in him stirring. Connor was willing to open old wounds just for his sake. So he could find comfort and peace. It felt like more than he deserved from Connor.

“Connor.” Markus lifted his hand up, but didn’t retract his skin.

Curiously, Connor stared at the hand before he mirrored the gesture. Their palms touching. Markus intertwined their fingers. It felt warm and firm.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. Can I show you some of the quiet places in my memory?”

“Okay,” he said softly. He was still hesitant to interface, but the earnestness in Markus’ eyes made him want to give in. The blue and green eyes no longer had the pained look to them. They seemed to glimmer with an emotion Connor had a hard time identifying.

The interface opened between them and memories of a warm opulent house were shared. Of long hours watching Carl paint. Of Markus playing the piano. So many moments of calm and peace. Of the life when Markus’ eyes were only green, and he hadn’t know the pain of the freedom he lacked. It was idyllic. And naïve.

Connor interrupted the interface. All of Markus’ memories had been before deviating. “Markus, have you been able to find quiet places after deviating?” It would be too tragic, if Markus had completely lost those quiet moments.

He paused as he considered the question and nodded. “Yes. I can show you.”

And the interface opened again. There were memories of Markus in front of a blank canvas in his own studio at New Jericho. Of light conversations between Leo and Carl. Of laughter shared with Simon, North, and Josh.

Connor was surprised to see himself. The companionable silence they shared on the rooftop terrace. Was that how Markus saw him? What he looked like to Markus? It was so… different than how he viewed himself. He felt a heaviness in his chest. How could someone possibly see him in such a positive light? More memories took him away from those thoughts of himself.

Markus’ definition of a quiet place wasn’t strictly one that lacked noise. It was moments of relief and peace. Where even if there was music and conversation, it was calm. Maybe Connor did have memories of other quiet places.

And with a bit of tentativeness, Connor shared them with Markus. The rare car rides where Hank wasn’t blasting music. Walks with Sumo. Cooking for Hank. Late night patrols at New Jericho. The moment with Markus on the rooftop terrace. He wondered if Markus was like him. Didn’t see himself the way others did. He wanted Markus to know how he saw him.

The two continued sharing quiet places in their memories as the rainy day progressed. And continued to interface well after the sky cleared. Time felt lost to them. They weren’t in New Jericho sitting on the floor of a supply closet. They were revisiting the parts of peace they had carved out for themselves in their turbulent lives.

For at least for today, the quiet place they found was in each other.

-end-

whew, it took awhile to get this out (more than a few hours) but i HAD to bc it was plaguing my mind. definitely planning on incorporating it into the long wip i'm working on but here's the scene!!! hope you enjoyed it. it's a bit long for tumblr hahah. EDIT: @elle-prix made beautiful fanart for this fic!!!! go check it out and reblog it!!!!!! it's beautiful and amazing <3333