#this truely feels holy

[mewniemoon]

Narinder as a dad would simultaneously be both "Kids are indestructible, they got rubber bones. Throw em off the roof for landing-on-thy-feet practice? Sure why not, theres a matress at the bottom they'll be fine, walking it off builds character, Shamura raised me and I turned out fine." and "These are my precious vunerable tiny darlings, my little meow meows, my kibby cats, and I will protect them with my entire being. The worlds cruel and unjust and if you even look at my baby shittens I will vaporize you to dust with my rage alone." And these are both true at once and can flicker on and off at any second.

[greyskyflowers]

I have a lot of half thoughts about the hell scenes so I'm just going to ramble them out on here and hope they're semi coherent.

1.) I think it's so interesting that Edwin screamed for Charles while he was being taken to hell.

I would bet that Edwin cried for someone his his first trip down to hell too.

I really can't think of who he would have called for specifically. His parents? Maybe. I do think that there's something in everyone that wants the comfort of their mother when they're truely terrified but it doesn't seem like Edwin would have screamed for them. That goes for any siblings too.

He certainly didn't seem to have any friends that he could have cried for. Doesn't necessarily strike me as the type to be close to God but this situation would make a holy man out of anyone. Maybe he just called for every name that crossed his mind. Family, grade school friends, neighbors, teachers, etc.

Regardless, even if he had screamed for them, what would they have done? Who would have answered?

No one. No one answered. No one came. They were never coming.

He was completely alone.

He does scream for Charles though. Charles will always respond. Charles will always come get him.

I dont know, just seems like he screamed this time because he knew someone was listening. He said a name because he knew that person would come.

2.) I wonder if a very small, little sliver of Charles hated Crystal for just a split second when he found Edwin in hell and realized what exactly happens to him down there.

Crystal was very brave to want to come and that's important, she cares and wanted to help. I think that means a lot to Charles and Edwin.

However, she pushed back after she was told no, and that humans couldn't go to hell.

She argued with Charles and it might have been just a few minutes but how many times did Edwin get ripped apart in those few minutes?

That awful pile in the corner says many times.

3.) I'm curious what Edwin being taken back to hell would have looked like if we had followed him instead of staying with Charles.

Did the spider demon wait until it got to those horrid hallways before starting to chase?

Did it throw Edwin in there and muscle memory had him take off running the second his bare feet hit the ground? The demon already behind him and catching up quick.

Was he torn apart and back before he even knew what happened? How many times did it take before it hit him that he's really back?

This particular ones gets me. The idea that he was still in shock from being taken, was killed and back again while still trying to figure out what was even happening is heartbreaking.

If Edwin was torn apart and back before he even realized it, maybe that means it was a quick first death. Maybe the demon spider was too excited to have it's toy back.

I guess when the realization would have hit him that this was real, that he had already started the loop of runhurtagainrunhurtagain, that's what gets me.

Also, how familiar it probably was. How horrible to be so familiar with a certain type of pain that it would have immediately brushed aside all the scattered and chaotic thoughts in his head and narrowed it down to, he's back.

4.) Charles held it together pretty well in hell. Especially because I feel like he was probably furious. Everything in the past few days has been adding to his anger and what's a great way to piss him off even when he's not in a bad mood? Fucking around with Edwin.

The night nurse has made a liar out of him. She called that awful thing to Edwin, as accidental as it might have been, and it took him.

Charles promised that Edwin would not go back to hell. He said he was going to fight whoever and whatever he needed to in order to keep them together and Edwin out of hell.

Edwin is in hell. They're not together anymore.

It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Charles wasn't able to do anything.

He has broken two promises in the seconds it took the demon spider to grab Edwin and disappear.

When he finds Edwin the second time and he gets the run down of what really happens here, he did this thing while Edwin's hand is still over his mouth where he kind of closes his eyes and nods a few times.

It's like he's telling himself to pull it together. Trying to passively take in the information and doing the equivalent of taking a few deep breathes while incredibly anxious or stressed and forcing yourself to focus on specific things one at a time.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Swallow it all down, all the devastation and fury and fear.

Edwin needs him to be okay and calm because Edwin is absolutely not okay and not calm.

So even though Charles is probably feeling a lot things right now, he swallows it down and says Okay. Let's get you out of here.

Charles is a fixer. He's a protecter. He's a fighter.

He can do none of those things right now. Not really. The only thing he can really do is give Edwin enough hope to run though hell with him.

Add in the later stuff with Esther and Charles has got to be thinking 'how many times do we have to go through this before everyone gets the message and backs the fuck off?'

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[satirn]

I've also been thinking about JimmyTimmy. Something that has been on my mind, How would the True Love rule would play in this case? Because, it was thanks to Cosmo and Wanda that Timmy met Jimmy in first place. At first I tought in an angsty endidng, since Timmy should lost his fairies at some point on his life, losing them may cause to Timmy and Jimmy to forget each other (and getting their canon heteronormative future), but not being truely happy because they still have the feeling of missing someone they don't remember; or maybe the True Love rule would make them stay together, but I also keep in mind that would be a relationship based in lies, since if Timmy ever tries to tell Jimmy about his Fairies OddParents, even if Jimmy won't belive him because as a science man he doesn't belive in magic, Timmy would still lost them, causing their angsty ending I told before. Sorry, if any of this made you cry.

DUUUDE WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE😭😭😭😭 but anyways!!!

this is actually a very intresting thing to bring up i havent thought about that!! the memory wipe thing is something that has to be done magically right? seeing that most of the time the reassignment of faires is a physical act with the taxi n all that. theres no real like magic in the reasignment itself, just the memory part ?

so if timmy and jimmy fall in love before timmy loses his fairies, then stay in love to when he should lose them, they woudlnt be able to remove the memories of cosmo and wanda due to thats how jimmy and him met and further fell in love.

actually if cosmo and wanda are the only way timmy can even get to retroville, they probably couldnt get rid of them in the first place due to this rule.

i .. holy shit jimmy is literally a key to let timmy keep cosmo and wanda past childhood. christ almighty

so based on this, timmy could literallyy do anything and they can't really take cosmo and wanda away from him because of this ,DAMN. yeah i was right for making jimmy and timmy basically gods of space-time respectively. jesus h christmas 💖💖💖

[whereserpentswalk]

Do you know what it looks like when powerful things, truly powerful things die? When something massive, with abilities beyond mortal power, ends its life.

When giants know it's their time to die they lay down, useally in a forest. It takes awhile to kill a giant, even when wounded they have days to prepare. They lay down so that nothing will be crushed by their fall. They have mo burial rituals, it would require too much space. It's like a whale fall when they die, the wild dogs and birds will spend weeks, mabye months feasting on their flesh. Humans and their kin can take from them too, their skin is sturdy, their organs fertilize the earth, and their bones are as hard as steel, and can be used for building or for arms. Some of the oldest cities were once towns built in giant skeletons. Both good and bad giants accept their deaths, it's in their nature.

Witches and warlocks always die the opposite way. They're stubborn, of course they are, they think the can master death itself. They make themselves all sorts of horrible things to ward off their own death, from great machines of clockwork and rhythm, to changes to their bodies to save themselves, twisting their forms into truely inhuman things. They say this is part of why so many witches and warlocks grow to such an old age, but they are still mortal at heart, most of them human by birth, though by old age they will hardly seem human, perhaps hardly seem like something of this world at all. Dying warlocks and witches always deny their own deaths, and to meet one is to witness something horrifying yet miserable. They say there was a warlock king who spent his last centuries chained to a gilded throne, unable to move, eating the souls of lesser mages to keep his own soul from passing on.

Dragons die the most destructive deaths. They are beings of fire and ash, and their bodies do not beyray that notion in their doom. Wherever they fall, they will light their surroundings ablaze, burning fields and forests, burning even oceans and lakes. Their blood will poison most life, but the life that survives is changed, flowers become thorny and hot to the touch, birds lose their feathers and grow leathery wings, snakes and lizards and crocodiles grown into wyms and drakes. And those humans and elves who survive a dragonfall but feel it's firey blood become vampires, the freshest and strongest vampires the world ever sees, more powerful and deadly than vampires turned by the bite of their own kind.

When angels die it is their own choice. They don't useally do it, but sometimes they are compelled to. Some wish to join mortal lovers and freinds who have passed, some are merely board or saddened by the world, and some; those who are born to the darkest of gods, are commanded to. They'll useally go to a city center or on top a holy place to do it, and they'll just stand or kneel where they wish to pass, and wait and their radiant bodies turn to stone or metal. They just look like statues after that, after a few generations they are useally thought to be.

Devils and faeries die the strangest deaths. Sometimes they choose to, sometimes they just know they're dying. They'll walk off to somewhere where nobody can see them, and than they just won't be there. Nobody even sees them disappear. They'll just walk into another room, and when you follow them they won't be there, like they were never there at all.

[zelcii]

sixteen | gally x reader

tmr.

fluffy angst for the soul. im bawling my eyes out and cannot be aesthetic rn because im stuck on page 255 of the death cure and i cannot for the life of me read on. oh my days, james dashner. why?

sum; your from group b and you meet gally at the bonfire in the safe haven, but he already knows you. god forbid newt is there though omfg.

cw; swearing, fluff, romance, lgbt themes, unresolved trauma from bein munies, character death.

a/n; all lowercase and not proofread because i cannot anymore holy motherfucking shit. also i would die for will poulter in the newtmas gut wrenching cus like yesssss!! please, will, PLEASEEEE

i want to love a boy, the way i loved the ocean...

homosexual angst, heterosexual comfort.

in your opinion, the safe haven was simply too good to be true. it was a sight to see children your age and younger strolling around without a care in the world. it was surreal. they played games, chased each other around the tall grass, and carried themselves with a certain carefree joy that you absoluetly envied.

you felt so out walking around sulking with your hair down and your clothes wrinkled and bedridden. you looked like a mess and you knew it because you refused to leave your tent for two days, fearing that once you stepped outside that maybe this was all just another test. a trick of the mind.

a trick of the mind that you'd grown used to in the wicked labs. the worst of it came from the sensations you'd feel on your legs and arms after sitting around for too long. pins and needles. if you held on long enough, your skin would eventually mimic the experience of the dozens of pins and pricks your limbs had to undergo. you could vividly see the tubes coming out of you, draining the very essence of your life away and replacing it with biochemical that didn't look, feel, or act natural. you remember being halfway full of the "fake blood." you could remember the feeling of barely being human.

at night, if you closed your eyes hard enough, you could still feel the bright, warm rays of the springs' artificially designed and wicked-engineered daylight on your skin. it would feel so real in your mind that you'd nearly have a panic attack, believeing that you had never escaped in the first place.

you'd spent your whole life (or at least the parts you remembered) in that cruel "life" simulation they called the maze trials. so long that you'd been conditioned to think that that was what home felt like. but no munie has ever felt truely at home before, so what gave vince the right to think that this place could be any different?

for the first time ever, you came out of your tent, looking around you as community unfurled before you. and although you wanted to tell yourself that you were safe, and that you were real, you couldn't help but call bullshit.

not long ago, your group had outsmarted your maze trials and joined the right arm. that was the first time you had truely seen hope after being sent up the lift and thrown into the sadistic evil wicked called "an expirement for good."

unfourtunately, it wasn't much longer then that you would realise that the hope that you had been given was futile and false.

because as soon as you did something nice for the others, you were thrown back into wicked's custody. the good die young and poor afterall. you were transported around the country, often with the tired asian boy you never learned the name of, but he was part of the group the right arm "saved." though you suppose nobody is ever safe anymore.

the scientists there subjected you to what felt like hundreds of graphic simulations. they forced you to watch your loved ones die over and over again—people whose faces you couldn't recognize but somehow knew you should've. You saw them getting ripped apart by shades, their guts spilling on the floor. Falling perilously off the cliff and crumbling in front of you in a gruesome splat of red. you watched your friends get buried alive under the damp soils of the springs, you digging the holes with no controls to stop yourself from hurting harriet, sonya, ximena, rachel, aris, miyoko, beth—the names went on. through it all, your mind was always awake, fully aware of every horrifying detail. the images burning itself into your dreams, gifting you with restless nights.

though you suppose you should be grateful in the slightest. because you wholeheartedly believed that you would still be in that pain if it weren't for the rouge wicked soldier that carried you out of the facility and onto a bus full of the children you'd seen before im the hallways. regardless, suspicion bubbled within you. you found yourself asking when you would start killing everyone.

aris walked up to you, calling out your name as his way of announcing himself, careful not to startle you. him, harriet and sonya were your most frequent visitors, talking to you from the otherside of the thin tent walls. you begged them to stay outside, anticipating your "turn for the worst."

you walked together as he told you about the bonfire vince would be holding that afternoon. "just like the good old days" he said, though you disagreed. the last "good day" you had was before the springs, lost somewhere in the mist of all the things you couldn't remember.

"maybe meet someof the other people?" aris suggested, his question laced with the sterness of an order. "it'll do you some good." he said. doubt it.

as aris walked away, your gaze was drawn to a pair of blue eyes watching you from a distance. they belonged to a tall blond boy who observed with a curious, almost wistfulness swimming in his eyes before it melted into a sombre look. the shade of blue in his eyes bubbled up a sense of familiarity deep within you, and you didn't even realise you were holding your breath until you forced yourself to look away.

that night, after vince's inspirational speech to keep the colony in high hopes, you lingered at the back of the crowd. small cliques spread about with wide grins and loud laughter as they ate and danced around the fire. you felt a streak of envy as you watched the children easily forget as if they hadn't been poked and prodded just days prior. yet, you were also grateful that the younger ones didn't have to face the worst of it. it was a bittersweet sight—knowing they could find joy despite everything, even if for just a moment.

behind the bonfire and displayed before the beach was the large slate of rock vince had mentioned in his speech. a few kids were already at work, carving dozens of names into the stone—tributes to the people they'd lost. one of them stood out, towering over the others with a quiet intensity. he skillfully carved the name "maya" at the top of the sculpture, his hands steady and deliberate. he went over the name a couple names, digging the name deep into the rock so it popped out the most comared to the others until he finished and did the same for the name "chuck" under his first. the sounds of the chisel against stone mixed with the crackling of the fire and the gentle lapping of waves from afar overlapped. the atmosphere thickened as each name was etched into the monument.

you came up behind the boy, tapping him gentely on the shoulder and he seemed to lean into your touch. oddly enough, he didn't have to turn around to know that he'd find you with your arm outstretched, asking for the sculpting tools.

in surprise, you stood there looking at the tools he carefully handed over to you, those blue eyes never leaving the name he carved in first. it startled you how in sync you seemed to be with this total stranger, you couldn't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, how his eyes glazed over the longer he stared at the names, and how his shoulders were tensed every time you had seen him. as if he was carrying the weight of the world.

in contrast to the boy, you got on your knees before the large stone slate, taking your time with the curves of each letter. she felt unworthy of writing the name into the rock, having killed her over and over and over again in so many different simulations. but when you brought it up with harriet, she simply gave your shoulder a squeeze in attempt to reassure you before pulling you into a hug, whispering soft "i know,"s into your hair, your eyes watering.

you made sure to do it justice, chipping away at the stone with intention in each stroke, a furrow of your eyebrows over your tired eyes as you made no mistake with each hit of your mallet. you had noticed that although he was finished on his names, the boy still hovered behind her, watching the way she shifted her entire focus into permanently engraving the name into the sculpture. she paid no mind to anything other than the work in front of her and the sound sof the sea. "beth" you had written, standing up and backing away to admire your works.

it was then that you realised that the boy was never looking at the names. he was looking at you, putting a respectful hand on the small of your back as you walked backwards, before pulling away to cross his arms over his chest. usually, you would lash out, yell at whoever thought to have the audacity to even think to touch you. but something about the way his caloused hand sat warm against your skin felt so natural. like you were meant to feel his skin against yours. so you didn't yell because maybe you were in the wrong.

your eyes flickered between the names and the blond beside you, studying the way soft freckles spread across his face from the cold and how he kept his head held high, his jaw clenched. you knew he could feel you staring, but you couldn't help but wonder why he felt so familiar, and you had a feeling he didn't care much.

it didn't startle you when his eyes locked on to yours. you bit your lip, taking notice of the way your heart rate picked up as you watched the darkest bits of his eyes dilate as he set his eyes on you and you failed to hold back the giddy smile that crawled onto your lips. he felt pathetic, searching for the familiar flakes of gold that swam within your irises. he searched your eyes for your soul only to feel himself melt, falling for you. again. all while you studied him for what would be the first time for you. his heart ached.

"do i know you?" you asked under bated breath. the way his eyes smiled and his gaze softened when he looked at you nearly convinced you to fall for him. how innocently he looked at you, void of any judgment.

he shook his head no, smiling at you with his lips pursed. his eyes were laced with a sort of pain that bubbled up in the middle of his chest. no, you didn't know him. but he knew you. he'd state it, his voice was low and gruff, as if he had just woken up.

"and your so sure?" the blond hummed. "why is that?" you laughed, and he simply looked at you. he looked at you like you'd disappear if he looked away. he offered you his hand and you glanced down at it hesitantly. your eyes traced over his calluses, worn hands, each scar and scrape a story to share. and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to hear them. and for the first time in days, you let yourself believe that everything was real, because you wanted him to be real.

you took his hand and let him lead you down to the beach, neither of you walking farther behind the other. just together.

the two of you sat there in the sand. he sat with his arm resting against a leg, his other outstretched and his other hand proped under him to cary his weight. it was a vain attempt to relax despite the tension in his muscles. you sat your knees up to your chest, hugging them close and resting your chin on your knees. a vain attempt to feel safe around him. because no matter how much you doubted the world around you, the legitimacy of the people you met, and the control you had over your own actions, you still wanted a place to go back to that you could call home, or rather a person. he told you his name was gally. then your heart pleaded with the universe to let home be the boy you'd only met today.

"maya..." he muttered, picking up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. "she loved the ocean. because each time the water left the shore, she knew it would come back." he finished, looking at you once again. he searched for any tell-tale sign that his words felt familiar to you. they didnt. "she told me that."

he could recall the way you used to talk with your hands, a bounce in your step, and your eyes wide with wonder and love as you spoke to him. you wasted your love on him, but he had overlooked it. he had overlooked you, missing the way your smile would falter when he changed the subject or how you would stumble over your words, desperately wishing he would just listen to you.

"she's a smart girl," you hummed, your eyes trained on the crash of the waves and the flutter of seagulls as the passed by. "can i ask... what happened?"

gally let out a shaky breath, inhaling the salty scent of the sea. "she was in trouble," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hear his own words. he spoke slowly, each word heavy and dry in his mouth. "she was in trouble, and i ignored her."

he remembered how you ran to him in the middle of the hallway, begging him to help you run away. you told him how you overheard the scientists discussing sending you to the maze trials, how you panicked at the thought of losing your memories and everything you'd worked for being wiped away. your voice trembled with fear and desperation, but he ignored you.

you gently nodded, letting him know you were listening, though you kept your eyes closed, allowing the sounds and smells of the beach to envelop you. you'd never seen water run the way the waves swayed against the wind, their movements both soothing and relentless. the way the water crashed against the rocks and sand with such urgency, only to retreat and disappear, fleeting from the very reason it fought so hard to get to.

"i grew selfish and i lost nearly everything i loved because of it," he sighed, reverent. he hated how you looked at him like you'd never seen him before, but you haven't. that was his fault. he wanted to you to see what he saw, to show you his memories, to make you feel what he felt. "we were sixteen."

he looked at you, his eyes desprate as the blue drew you in. they taunted you, and it hurt how you noticed every similarity between his his eyes and beth's. the green bits that crowded his irises, and the blue that reminded you of the waves on the shore before you. but he silently begged for you to stop thinking about her.

"i should know you shouldn't i?" the thought burned your heart.

gally nodded, his head hung low as he pursed his lips. he had hoped when he saw you in the last city, that seeing him could trigger your memories and bring you back to him. but as he saw you above the hill across the safe haven, staring at him with nothing but curiosity, he knew he had truely lost you. it got worse when he watched you write beth's into the stone so delicately.

"beth," you started, her name bitter on your tongue. "we were together in the springs." you explained to him everything you knew about the maze. you told him about your life back when you were just a sprout, a new arrival. you had come up from the lift just a month before beth, but when you saw her, you already knew her. he listened intently, watch how you smiled when you told him about her and the blue of her eyes.

"she was stung because of me," you admitted, recalling the day you snuck her into the maze. "when she went through the shift... i couldn't bare to stand the yelling. the screaming. i couldn't face the fact that she was like that because of me." you fidgeted with your shoelaces, twisting the fabric between your fingers as you spoke. "i didn't talk to her after that. and the last time i saw her—when i was finally ready to be there—she was bleeding out on the floor."

"that's the thing about people, isn't it?" she muttered. "they leave at the worse times, then come back when you stop needing them."

you let a tear slip as the weight of your words exhoed between the both of you, ringing true for different reason. gally could remember the exact moments your pleas had sunk in, but by then, the last time he'd seen you was on the screens of the security room, running the maze and killing a griever. he could still remember the desperation in your tone, the thought finally sinking in that you reached out to him—only him—because you wanted him to care.

his eyes glazed over, recalling the way he treated people before and after the maze. he could remember all the yelling he did, all the pain he could've caused. the most vividly though, chuck laying on the floor of the wicked facility, his blood pooling under him. he remembered falling to his knees, the pain is his shoulder numb compared to the hatred his heart held for him. "i was a terrible person..." he confessed, his voice breaking.

your brows furrowed as you frowned. gally kept his head low, glaring daggers at his feet with an intensity. the anger in his soul was the only thing more powerful than the vicious regret that gnawed at him from the inside.

"maybe you weren't," you shrugged, and for a moment you paused. you gently took his hand in yours, your skin smooth against his as you took your time to intertwine your fingers together in a way that felt right to you, yet familiar to gally. he let you lay your head against his shoulder, the only weight that felt comfortable on his shoulders, and you let him wrap his arm around you waste, the only touch you truely believed to be genuine. "maybe you were just sixteen."

guys do u get it. cus her name wss maya. yes like maya hawke. and she loved him but he didnt. and he lost sky when her memories got wiped. so he wrote her name on the stone thing. and he loves her now but she doesnt. she loves beth. but beth is dead. but they have the same eyes. cus theyre equivalents. so. they bother get second chances. hypothetically. they can finally be there for each other. but. she only loves him now. because he reminds her of beth. so all we can do now i pray that maya can love the boy the way she loved the ocean. though the ocean could also be all three of them. maya on shore then gally off shore. gally on shore then maya off. then maya and beth on shore then maya off. then maya on and beth off. now both gally and maya on shore. the shore representing love.

omg guys im losing it.

[iamnotcoolenough]

I've been struggling with wondering if I am doing this right. If I am worshiping Jesus the right way. I am second guessing myself alot lately. Wondering if it's worth it. If life has any point of we can't enjoy the things we like. And it makes me so mad. Because I do it to myself. I sit and question if it's this hard for any one else. I question if I even heard the LORD. If I truly was saves and have been forgiven. And I cry and ask and beg for signs that I am doing this right.

And today I was reminded that all of this is a spiritual attack meant to keep you from the LORD. The enemy tries to get you to feel this way so that you are far from you Father in heaven. To keep you from your purpose. He whispers lies to you and if you choose to accept them it leads to pain and anger and further sin. And its all to get you to distrust the Lord to question if he is truely there, if he cares and anything else. And our best way to combat it is to recognize it for what it is and to bring it to the Lord. Pray and talk it out. He wants our hardships he wants to be there for us. And to know him is to know his word, the Holy Bible.

I've been dealing with this cycle a lot lately. I feel as if I am faking it and going through the motions. Thinking that I am learning of him and not truly having that relationship, questioning if i am making it all up in my head as some sort of comfort to help me cope. And I won't lie, its made me feel quite hollow and sad inside. But then I came across something that reminded me that this is spiritual warfare, the enemy's handiwork. And while I can't find the post that reminded me of this, I will leave you will something He, the Lord, reminded me of when I was in one of these dark cycles.

LUKE 10:10-20

While this is very long, I will sum it up. The deciples were sent into the cities two by two to go and speak all that they learned from Jesus. He told them that people may or may not welcome them. And to all that do not welcome them, shake it off for he has given them "authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall in any wise hurt you. 20 Nevertheless in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you; but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."

The Lord loves us and gives us power over the enemy because of Jesus's blood. We must remember that the head of the serpent has been crushed by the heel of Jesus all because of his sacrifice on the cross. The enemy has already been defeated. Always remember this beloved.

[little-emerald-snake]

Smutmas Day 29

“Fucking is a reward but you haven’t been a good girl.” - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

602 words

Warnings: apology blowjob, oral m receiving

She’d gone against his advice again, resulting in winding up in headmaster Black’s office getting scolded for wandering off campus and getting stuck in a tree of all places.

She had gotten stuck in the tree and missed curfew which had resulted in nearly half the school going on a search party for her in the middle of the night.

To make it all worse Black had summoned Ominis to walk her back to her dorm, the one student who’d told her beforehand that this expedition would be a bad idea and that it would bite her in the ass later.

She followed behind him, his glowing wand guiding the way back to her common room in near silence. “Ominis. Please, you don’t need to punish me with your silence. I’ve already been punished. I feel bad that I went against your wishes, truely.”

Ominis remained silent, continuing along with heavy boot falls. “Ominis ple-“

He spun on his heel causing her to crash into his chest as he sighed heavily. “No, you don’t get to be sorry only when you know you got caught. You could just listen for once maybe and you wouldn’t find yourself in so much trouble all the bloody time. Ever think of that?”

Her head sunk in shame but his hand stopped her, forcing her to look into his unseeing but still angry eyes. “No. You didn’t think of that. Instead you wake up and ponder, hm, how can I go against Ominis Gaunt today? What can I do to piss him off this time?!”

She looked around at the empty corridor they were in and licked her lips nervously. She knew there was only one way to tamp down his anger but she could really get them into trouble if she got caught here.

She sank to her knees, fingers flying up to his trousers. Ominis’ breathing hitched but he made no move to stop her. “You already know that fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been a good girl.”

She shakes her head and pulls his growing erection from his trousers with a smirk. “We aren’t fucking, this is only for you. This is just the beginning of my apology.”

She sits up on her heels, taking him into her mouth with a satisfied hum. He smells so good here, the masculine scent of him making her wet between her thighs already.

He gripped both her hands, placing them on his thighs. “Don’t move these hands. You aren’t allowed to play with yourself tonight. You deserve to be punished.”

She hummed around him greedily, rolling her tongue over his sensitive head. He sighed pleasurably, using the hand not holding his wand to lace his fingers into her hair. “Fuck, you’re way too good at this.”

She took him to the back of her throat, breathing through her nose so she wouldn't gag. His eyes squoze shut, a low guttural growl leaving his lips. “Holy fuck, gonna cum…”

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even move till his fingers tighten in her hair and he leans back against the wall for support. She swallows around him and with a broken groan he’s cumming down her throat in hit thick ropes.

Once she’s sure he’s done she pulls off with a pop and grins happily, licking her lips. “You taste so good, Omi.”

He huffs and buttons himself back up before gripping her shoulder and dragging her toward the Slytherin common rooms. “You’re gonna stay with me tonight. Can’t trust you not to relieve that dripping cunt the second you’re alone.”

[darby-rowe]

hi! (sorry for just moving into your inbox this weekend haha)

idk how you feel about audios but i thought that as tumblr’s resident piss girl you might enjoy this little treat that reminds me of coryo

😳👉👈 https://www.soundgasm.net/u/RaidynReborn/M4F-Picnic-Experiment-watersports-loving-bfe-public-outdoors-cream-pie

thank you for your time

cw piss, link leads to explicit sexual content | x

holy fuck holy fuck. when i tell u that i listened to this last night before going to bed and i LITERALLY SAT THERE WITH MY MOUTH AGAPE AND EYES CLOSED I WAS… TRUELY IN AWE.

this was so hot. like i felt a second heartbeat if u know what i MEAAANN. AND MY TUMMY WAS DOING A FULL TUMBLING ROUTINE LIKE????

now this just makes me want someone out there who can do a tom blyth impression to make coriolanus snow erotic audios. please god. i’ll do anything.

[bogginswritings]

Astarion x barbarian!Tav blurb

Basically more of my barbarian big chick Herman and Astarion. You guys seemed to like it. Though I named her Tav here; I forgot Herman isn't a normal name. I'm desensitized. Astarion is pretty OOC, this was more of a crack one. Also I'm on fire. Who is this? no waiting time between fics long enough to birth babies?! Pairing: Astarion x fem!barbarian!Tav (also known as Herman) Words: <1000, just a short one Content: crack, just crack. Little OOC. But who cares, when you delulu enough it'll get you there. Summary: Astarion has a lot to complain about today. The main one; 'no more walking'.

Astarion had been on his complain -train, as she liked to call it.

It started with complaining about how he woke up, then he whined because somehow his armor didn’t fit as comfortably as it did yesterday. And now-

"Are we there yet?" Astarion asked, dragging himself along. Tav shrugged, "No clue, should be there soon enough. I think."

“You think?" Astarion retorted, "Darling, please, my feet hurt-” he moped, trailing behind the rest of the party that tagged along for the day, “Can’t we take a break?”

Tav rolled her eyes, “We had a short rest not that long ago,” she commented, as she simply kept going down their path. The elf grumbled under his breath as he followed behind, arms crossed, “You know, you’re supposed to be considerate of my comfort. Being my pet and all.”

The look she shot him over her shoulder was a warning one, “I was your juicebox of the night, I think I’ve been considerate.”

Astarion let out a puff of air; surely he deserved better treatment. She should be biased for him. "VERY considerate. Which is why we are now on our path to save who and whose child," he said, his eye-roll not going unnoticed by the barbarian. She shook her head with a smile, "You forget we'll get paid. We could use some extra stuff before we continue our travels." Astarion didn't audibly agree with her, but the puff of breath he let out in annoyance was enough.

He picked up his pace momentarily, catching up with her. He wrapped an arm around her taller figure, squeezing her biceps (without drooling), “You know what, my sweet, you could put those good-looking muscles to use and-”

“I’m not carrying you.”

“You didn’t even know if that’s what I wanted to ask!” he exclaimed. She turned her head, cocking it, “Then what is it?”

“I was simply going to request,” he started, finger tracing over the muscle, “if you could oh so pretty please carry me.” Tav snorted, shaking her head, “you’re impossible.”

“I’m endearing.”

“You’re complaining,” the barbarian retorted.

“I could carry you,” Halsin chimed in from behind them. Tav’s ears perked up, “Looks like you found your volunteer, love.” Astarion snapped his head towards the druid with a glare, “Don’t you dare.”

Halsin, the poor man that wanted nothing more than to be nice, threw his hands up; Gale snorting next to him. Tav gave Astarion a look, “He’s trying to help.”

“yada yada,” Astarion rolled his eyes, how was she so oblivious to what he wanted? “I don’t want him carrying me! His hands probably still smell like bear! Now- pick me up!” he pouted, and Tav fought her smile.

“Alright fine, come here you drama queen,” she grabbed him by the waist (that did absolutely nothing to him!). His victorious grin was short-lived, however, as she threw him over her (big) shoulder. He’d be blushing if he wasn’t pissed off (and physically unable to). “Hey! That is NOT what I meant!” he protested, kicking his legs; which did next to nothing to her.

“You said carry, I carry,” she stated, “Didn’t specify.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!” he shouted, fists kicking at her back (holy shit her muscles were flexed at her shoulder). Astarion purposefully kept his gaze there, not wanting to face the other companions; the only reason, truely. He could just feel Gale’s expression. That stupid fucking wizard. “PUT ME DOWN, PET!”

Tav turned around (Astarion blinking a few times from the sudden movement), looking at Halsin and Gale, “Do you guys hear something?” They both shook their heads with a chuckle.

Astarion gawked, his hands grabbing for SOME leverage; one clawed into her back while the other pushed against her free shoulder, “EXCUSE ME?!” he exclaimed as he tried to free himself from her grasp; able to turn his head just enough to face the other men, “You are supporting abuse!”

The vampire could feel her shoulders shaking as laughter bubbled in her throat. Astarion's lips formed an angry pout, fingers flicking the back of her head, “Don’t laugh!” he let his head drop, laying limp over her shoulder, “Please let me go, before this gets any more humiliating.”

“I don’t think it could be,” Gale quipped, to which she snorted, “He’s right, it’s pretty bad for you.”

“TAV!”

“OKAY OKAY!” The barbarian laughed, putting the fuming vampire down. He had his arms crossed, angry glare on his face (which wasn’t all that concerning to Tav; he had to look up to meet her eyes). b"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" "No! My pride has been severely injured," Astarion replied, to which she shook her head with a chuckle. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, fuming as he was, "Maybe halsin still wants to-" "FUCK OFF." ---------------------------------------------- I didn't know how to end it so have this.

[furrybydaygaybynight]

I really didn't expect that much attention holy shit, this is a first, its kinda exciting

Edit becouse I don't feel like reposting but

Fucking huh? Both of them???

I'm truely honoured

[curiousitycollective]

this is completely unchartitable and we're feeling extremely bitchy, but holy hell does it piss us off to see people who were upset over the word endogenic turn around and go "there's no reason to think anti-endo means believing endogenic systems don't exist or that endogenic systems should refuse to have discussions with them"

i honestly and truely cannot believe that think that the word endogenic is problematic because it shares the term endo- with endogenous but that saying you are anti a specific identity is completely fine and shouldn't make people with that identity uncomfortable or wary.

the level of cognitive dissonance is frankly astounding and a perfect example of why the whole "we just want to have a polite discussion" is complete bullshit.

- smile

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Yandere Clones

The Galaxy changes, thanks to spit.

It's not even the first time it's happened, in my peoples history. But it's... kinda weird it happend? Twice? The FIRST time we actually PLANNED for it to happen. It was biological warfare. But this? This was just an accident. One that could have KILLED somebody.

Cause, see, the Techganic people? Are... well to put it lightly, we are the result of centuries of an ideological and spiritual holy war, that nearly tore our plant apart. The two sides don't really "talk" to each other any more. Or... you know... ACKNOWLEDGE the other.

They are waiting for the other to "inevitably die off, due to their own hubris".

Yeeeeeah. Fun times. You can see why I wanted OFF that dirtball.

At least on other planets? The politics aren't PERSONAL... is what I naively thought. Forgot about empathy! You know, like an idiot! Kark. Where was I? Right! Galaxy, changed, spit. Okay, sooo... here's the thing? My family was part of the bloody bone-sucking Holy Naturalist Empire. (Translated to Basic, the word "Naturalist" has more of a specific to the body? Meaning? Not so much "nature of the world" as "nature of the Self" you know? And in THIS case, the word they are using for "holy" in ancient means less strictly "divine" and more "pure like the divine"? It's Complicated.)

And the Progress Collective was ORIGINALLY this whole project, supposedly, that got WAY out of hand, became a cult, then a religion, and tore the planet apart? It was a technological hive mind that want to "perfect" the planet to a "higher state of being". And then extend its reachs to the stars.

We held the karking LINE. Died in legions. Refusing to give our bodies to be made machines. Droids and puppets. Refused to give our freedoms, our homes, our planet. Any of it. But it was at the cost of our original bodies. The only way to truely fight BACK? Was to become... poison.

The Jedi who eventually came, some how FEELING our distress, dispite the blockade the Collective created on the interplanetary transmitters? Our planet's holonet connection? Said that the creator of Our Salvation was guided by the Force. None of us could really argue. The Salvation treatment was madness. A machine so ahead of it's time, we STILL aren't sure how it works, just that it DOES.

We had a choice.

It was no choice at all.

And now? NOW? Kriffing CENTURIES later? I am STILL a biological weapon! Not do much to non-human adjacent races, but anyone human or human modified? Human descended? Kriff, even a few humanoids! If they're CLOSE enough!

I have to take neutralizers if I plan to be swapping any sort of bodily fluids with ANY race that isn't on the "verified Safe" list. For MONTHS. So it can build up in my system properly. And the side effects? Ugh. Stars and Bone, is it AWFUL! Like I GET why people do it. You love who you love. But the nausea! All those meds just to counter the side effects of other side effects!

It made me kinda glad to be single. Stars, poor cousin Tango.

Of course, I AM responsible. I always carry a FULL kit of emergency neutralizers with me. Just in case, Bones and Blood forbid it, the worst should occur. I have some for accidental blood mixing, some for plasma, a couple for bile, and the majority of the rest? Saliva. The most common accident reported. My kit even has an emergency medical guide on a lil piece of flimsy, on the inside lid!

...I feel like I'm getting distracted agai- OH! Right!!

I work in the senate building, now! Astral, right?! Center of the GALAXY! First step to making a DIFFERENCE! Granted, I am basicly the assistant nobody of no one... but STILL! It's a start! I'm ON Coruscant! That's more then most people can say! I go to work passing THE jedi temple each day! You can see them coming and going from your airspeeder!

Unfortunately? Rent is BRUTAL. I live in a glorified closet with barely a bunk and a sonic shower to my name. Not even a proper 'fresher! It's not like we're traveling. Or my species needs to avoid water! No, I literally just CAN'T AFFORD IT! And if you saw the prices? Droids be carting you off to the medcenter before you know it! Where do they GET their water? The outer rim?! Do they deliver it by HAND?!

.....I haven't had my Caf. Ignore me. I just miss feeling proper CLEAN. Sonic showers just... I know it's a psychological thing, but it doesn't FEEL as clean, you know? I am pouting. Pouty me. Unhappy.

Wait... what time is i- OH KARK!!!

See, on Coruscant there is no real "beating" the traffic. But there ARE certain steps you can take to cut travel time. Like making sure you're on the Senatorial speeder. It has right of way and is pretty comfy. And? If I get ON it early enough? Blend in with the walls? I not only can't get kicked off by some plasbone slimeball of a "I think I'm better then you" senator's aid... but they'll run their mouths!

I have learned SO MUCH that way~!

Unfortunately for me? The Caf merchant was REALLY popular today. So dignified I am NOT.

"Hold the 'LIFT!"

It more a desperate plea then an order, but two seperate armored hands immediately reach out and stop the turbolift's doors from closing. Out of breath behind my Goverments mandated mouth gaurd, I struggle to catch my breath as I finally make it. The kriffing thing makes running almost impossible. It makes most things karking near impossible.

"Tha... thank! You!" I manage to pant, trying not to double over. I am a bit light headed. It's hard to remember what I'm supposed to do when I'm like this. "Kriff! I hate running. Can.. never breathe! Afterwards!"

The lift is full of Coruscant gaurds, their mysterious gazes presumably locked onto me. I could only assume, given how their helmets were turned towards me, but ultimately it was impossible to tell. The gaurd standing next to me was more heavily painted then the others. I still couldn't for the life of me figure out what the marks MEANT. Rank maybe?

"Should we be requesting a medical droid?" Came the mechanized voice of... I was fairly sure the one to my left? I turned to address the one I was preeeeetty sure had spoken. It was a small, echo-y lift.

"No, no. It's just the mask. Makes it kinda hard to breathe. Gover-"

I never got to finish explaining. Just as we reach the Speeder platform. As the doors began to open. An explosion ripped the world apart. The very mask I disliked so much, likely saving my lower jaw from being ripped completely off. The turbolift slammed back, crashing, durasteel screeching as supports ripped apart and gave way.

Rapid fire, more explosions. The Gaurd next to me grabbed me, tucked me tight as they braced. Away from the exit. As.. the world... slowly LEANED.

All I could do was stare, terrified, down at the sheer drop of the now frantic Coruscant traffic below. Commuters desperately trying to avoid falling debris. I could hear alarms. The transparasteel below my face cracked.

Wait.

Below?

The 'lift had leaned. MORE then leaned. It was half unmoored. Hanging out into open air. I clung to the gaurd that held me, my caf dropped long ago, now seeping like dark blood through the cracks to drip... drip... drip... out into that terrible drop.

I.. I couldn't breath. My heart was pounding. Too fast. Too hard. Oh Stars that take us in the End, oh Bones and Blood, that we are! C-can't BREATHE! I managed to make a hand unseize. Rip the glorified muzzle from my face, so I could suck in air. I was drooling. Like a mad hunt beast. A panic response, I remembered distantly.

So far down. Oh Stars. We were going to fall so far down!

A creak. A snap. We jerked and swung downwards. I think... I think I sobbed. Pressed as tight as I could make myself to the red heavy gaurd. He was sturdy. Hold strong. I could hear the other gaurds working quickly and in tandem behind me. But... but I was frozen. Useless. N..nothing but dead weight.

I must have started babbling. Apologizing. Because the helmet near my head turned slightly, the arm around my waist tightened just a bit.

"You have nothing to apologize for ma'am. We were trained for this. Made for this. Not you. You're going to be just fine, all right? We'll get you out of here. Just stay calm and try not to move."

We are almost out. Almost free. When the next attack hits. The cheap duracrete crumbles and we DROP. Gravity releasing us for a few, brief, and terrifying moments.

I do not face them with dignity. I am terrified. A fractured, strangled, scream trying to rip its way free of me. Fear too great to let it. Some stars blessed 'Lift cord catches, arresting our fall violently. We slam into the side of the building the Senatorial Speeder pad is on. Throwing gaurds around the lift pod. Smashing us all together.

The man holding me has his helmet knocked off in a violent bounce that leaves his jaw sporting a shallow but painful looking scrape from someone's boot. Two panes of the transparensteel are just... GONE. Howling wind a deadly reminder of what waits below, should anyone fall through those holes.

"Hammer, Tricks! Get those doors open NOW! I don't care if you have to BLAST them open! We are running out of time and I'd prefer not to learn what the low levels taste like at SPEED." Growled a commanding voice in my ear. Then the voice turn reassuring. "We got you. You're not dying here. We're getting out, okay? Just hold on."

I managed to nod. Drool had long ago overwhelmed my mouth, now painting my chin, smearing everywhere. A mess. It mixed with my tears and some part of me was screaming. Dangerous, dangerous! But... but all I could see was that DROP. Gonna fall. Oh Stars, gonna fall! Please. Scared. Don't let go!

I pressed closer. Ignorant of the way my drool wet cheek pressed against the still bleeding wound on his his face. Ignorant of how I was doing the ONE THING I had been warned time and time again to NEVER EVER do.

The turbolift door gave a screeching clunk as they were force out of place. Toppling away. The gaurds ignored it, immediately getting into action. There was a patrol speeder clearly waiting to get into position. One by one the jumped into it. Careful not to destabilize the already precarious lift any further.

Finally it was our turn. And? With a gut turning drop as I was carried down? We were safe. The Speeder immediately making room. I cried. Clung. It took me entirely too long to remember that something might be amiss. It was only when the gaurd I was clinging to stumbled. Admitted to a "bit" of a headache. That everything came crashing back.

Like ice water to the soul.

Oh Stars! What have I DONE!?

I scramble for my neutralizers. The full anti-spectrum kit. Oh Stars! It's in his BLOOD! I stared in horror at the damning sheen of my own spit against his cheek, my hands shaking, trying to rip open the pack. A medic takes it from me. Opens it for me and reads the flimsy guide in side. Curses.

There is no way to REALLY know who was exposed to me. So everyone has to go to the medcenter. Immediately. Get emergency shots just in case. Then follow up with medical droids for a couple weeks afterwards. BARE MINIMUM.

Why? Because my spit carries organic nanites. They hunt and DESTROY anything they deem "non-native" to the body... as defined by MY species. They ignore obviously alien races but human adjacent ones? They were DESIGNED to destroy augmented humans. "Purge" them of their enhancements. They can't tell they difference. Alien humanoid? Augmented Techganic? Same thing, right?!

Without the neutralizers? The nanites will RIP PEOPLES BODIES APART. And even WITH them? All it does is soft reset them to whatever current race their in. They still cause massive problems and medical trauma as they go about "fixing" any perceived damaged. Like, you know, medical devices. Or shrapnel.

They are meant to break and cannibalize what they can. Fix indiscriminately. If it causes YOU unimaginable agony? So be it. At least you will be "whole". Die Technoganic. Pure. The pain has KILLED people. The nanites? Dumb enough to attack VITAL STSTEMS they deem "wrong". Killing their hosts before they themselves can FIX anything. They were a WEAPON. And... and I infected an innocent man.

I am a monster.

All I can do, is apologize. Again and again and again. Stare in horror, into the eyes of the man who SAVED me, and know that I returned the favor by poisoning him horribly. If there was room? I would grovel. This is... this is unforgivable.

He grimaced past the building headache. Pats my shoulder.

The worst part is... is no one is blaming me.

T-they SHOULD be...

The hand on my shoulder spasms, grip turning crushing as my savior's body violently seizes. His hands shoot to his head, limbs twitching and lashing. Blood trickles from his nose. Eyes shut tight against some terrible pain. They've GIVEN him the shot! It should be countering the nanites! The only reason he should be in this much pain would be if there was something lodged in his brain!

All at once... like a doll with his string cut... he relaxes. Just in time for us to arrive at the Medcenter. They try to usher me away from the gaurds. Push them off towards some "take care of it yourself" corner of nowhere.

I throw a FIT. Loudly.

I am prepared to sit on the floor and scream and cry like a youngling, and it must SHOW, because they hurriedly rush us along. People GET their kriffing bacta. Their technoganic poisoning shots. Yes, I had to harrass the nurses it digging the shots out of storage. NO it couldn't KARKING WAIT!

I learned my saviors name was "Fox". That he's actually stationed in the same building as where I work. The Senate.

Thankfully? "I got BOMBED" is a valid excuse not to show up to work. I was allowed to head home. Fox even escorted me. Showed me where the Gaurds all get their off duty meals. Pretty spicy! But good! I don't really notice how clear headed Fox seems. Surely he always was, right? I can't have CHANGED anything, right?

I don't notice him bracing for headaches that never come. Having thoughts that don't slip away. Seeing the world and for once... REALLY seeing it. Being about to trace all the changes back to one person. The smiling, laughing, soul who NEEDED him so much.

He...he was MADE to be needed. To serve and protect. But does everyone DESERVE his service?

Huh... a strange new thought, that one.

But THIS one... this one might make The List. He really hopes she does. Nodding to a passing vod, his eyes drift back to her. She was warm. Stands as a rare bit of bright in Coruscant's filthy everything. He'd... He'd really like to keep her. Feels too soon, but it's true.

Everyone else have their generals. What do the Gaurds have?

Maybe this? Might be nice.

He hopes she makes the List.

[sniigura-archive]

I can't even make this up if I tried, and I'm so embarrassed to make the connections so late but Im always so enthralled in your writing for Adam because I've literally lived a similar situation!! 

I'll be reading and going 'damn this hits the nail on the head.. it's like this fic is speaking to me lmao-'

I dated a drummer in a band, he was a major piece of shit, we broke up and the guitarist immediately swooped in the moment he could and we ended up dating as well. both were toxic relationships and very controlling and manipulative and by god I refuse to ever go back to my ex or that relationship,,  but for your Adam?? ... Lord anything you want baby I'm sold!!! 🤭😫

Your writing has given me such a positive twist I can think about to a shitty situation I've been in and I hope others are able to feel the same way with your fics. Can't explain the amount of joy that floods through me to see you upload or post something on Tumblr. 

You're incredible and truely amazing and talented! Thank you so much for taking the time to create such incredible works!!! You will always be cherished and appreciated 💕

Thank you for everything you do.

(Sorry for the long message but you deserve all the love and appreciation man!!! Hope everythings going well in life and that it continues to keep getting better!!!)

(( also also- the threesome fic?? Holy shit. The hottest thing I've read in a while!!! You outdo yourself every damn time! May your pillows be cool on both sides and your dreams be of Adams pleasant ass 💕💕😭))

what does it feel like to be literally Reader 😭😭

the way i way i lose all my self respect for adam is incredible i should be in a psych study of sorts

thank you so much for ur words they mean a lot!! i really appreciate it!! no ask is too long ever ❤️❤️

[wellthebardsdead]

Unwilling dreamer pt5

Part 4 here

———

Shamat: *visibly blushing as nerevar leads him by the hand through the halls and chambers of the Mournhold temple, his eyes wide taking in every wall, every detail to the holy building that up until now he’d been forbidden to ever set foot in, all because of his birthmark* d-do I need to do anything for this ceremony m-my moon and star? I-I don’t remember any of voryns- *bites his own tongue seeing nerevars ear twitch at the name* I-I mean, any of my old memories on how I conducted myself in temple matters.

Nerevar: *looks back at him and smiles with a sickeningly fond expression* No my dreamer. Just follow my instructions and if this works. You’ll remember everything. Remember who you truely are.

Shamat: *tilts his head wondering what he could possibly have planned for him to ‘remember who he is’, but smiles with hopeful optimism that he truely knows what’s best for him* okay. *nods and continues following him obediently until they reach a large, imposing set of black, ebony doors guarded by temple ordinators and awaiting priests*

Nerevar: *halts before the doors and guides him to his side as they open, revealing a dark room, with only a stone table in the middle illuminated by the moon above from the open ceiling* come. *ushers him inside and towards the table*

Shamat: *staring at it in growing concern as knots twist in his stomach and alarm bells ring in his ears as he spots the metal restraints bolted to the slab* wh-what’s happening?… why are w- N-nerevar?! *gasps as the Hortator picks him up and lays him on the stone platform, only to barely hold back his own frightened scream as several hands emerge from the darkness, grabbing at his limbs and holding him down as they shackle him in place* n-nerevar! M-my lord please what’s happening?! I’m scared!!!

Nerevar: *smiles gently shackling the irons around his neck to keep him fully immobilised* shhh. This is for your own good, Voryn. We can’t trust you won’t hurt yourself. Or us. *gestures to the other hands as they retract from the moonlight and into the shadows* you trust me, don’t you?…

Shamat: *looking around frantically as tears threaten to spill from his wide eyes, doubt once again bubbling into his mind as he recalls his dream, his conversation with voryn, with himself* I-I-

Nerevar: *leans down to be inches from his face* Don’t you?…

Shamat: *heart stopping as fear grips him, his very being no longer feeling comfort or honour at the hortators advances, only dread at what’s to come* I-… I do. *whimpers feeling like any other response would somehow result in punishment yet not understanding why, he’d always been ‘kind’ to him, kinder than anyone ever had at least, even if he could be a little cruel in his actions he’d never frightened him like this… never like this*

Nerevar: *smiles and softens his gaze, satisfied with his answer* oh my dreamer… *leans down pressing his lips to his in a slow, deep kiss, only pulling away as the moonlight above them finally shifts directly above them* don’t be afraid… Tonight, we set you free from lorkhans grasp. *suddenly places the mask over his frightened captive lovers face, tying it tight* You’ll be whole…

Shamat: I-l-lorkhan? Whole? Wh-what? N-nerevar?? M-my moon and star don’t go! Don’t go!! *cries out trying to break free from his restraints as nerevar suddenly steps back into the darkness as voices begin to chant within it* wh-what’s happening?! What’s going on?! Nerevar?!

High priest: *suddenly looms over him reciting from a scripture in a language Shamat knew once as Voryn but now can’t understand a wink of, Velothi. His voice low and droning in a strange cadence unlike any type of speech, like the thrumming of a drum to spoken word, words that with each syllable gradually turn from sound, to pressure against the bound mers ears, like his blood pounding in his head with his heartbeat, no, not his, but something, someone else’s, pulsating harder and louder, and louder before halting abruptly*

Shamat: *white knuckles and bloodied wrists and nails as he grips into the stone trying to pry himself free from his restraints as his back arches feeling like his eardrums are bleeding, like his head is ready to explode or his heart will give out. His body twisting and writhing helplessly as a searing heat fills him as though he’s being boiled alive, his ankles blistering and slicing open against his shackles and his neck bruising with every pull* NEREVAR! NEREVAR PLEASE! WHAT HAVE I DONE WRONG?! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE M- *falls silent with the priests words as his body grows cold and the thrumming in his ears stop… Only to arch his back up high in utter agony as all the pain rushes to his forehead, to his birthmark, as his skin splits open and a third eyeball emerges in a wash of thick red blood and a pained, horrifying scream rips from his throat so violently it strains his very vocal cords*

Nerevar: *standing off to the side smiling with tears in his eyes as he watches blood bubble up from the third eye of the mask* just a little more Voryn! Come! Come home to me! Come back to me please! We can finally be one! We can-

Shamat: *suddenly snaps his head to the side, looking directly at him, no, not Shamat, somebody else, someone more familiar, wiser, angrier* I. Will. Not. Be. Yours.

Nerevar: wh-what? Voryn you- *gasps out a choked breath as a blinding light consumes his vision, and he finds himself seated amongst the dreamsleeve itself. And in front of him… Voryn* v-Voryn?… it’s- it’s you!! My love I-

Voryn: *turns his head and glares back at him with malice in his eyes* You abuse, and torment my reincarnation. You isolate him in a lonely room and force yourself upon him when he knows no better than to allow his body to be used. You reprimand him for not reaching me as the standard you’ve set when you’ve made no efforts to teach or guide him… and I know… I know You still willingly drug his tea with the filth that was forced down his throat and destroyed his body and mind. You made him associate it with your absence. To make him miss you.

Nerevar: *eyes wide shifting to his knees and reaching for him so desperately, unable to move from where he sits, as voryn wants him to stay there, barred between him by glittering lights of magicka beyond any mortals comprehension* n-no! Voryn please y-you don’t understand he can’t just go off it! He needs to be weaned! He’ll get sick if we don’t do this correct-

Voryn: DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!

Nerevar: *cowers as the realm around him quakes with his voice* Voryn- I-I-

Voryn: *turns to face him completely revealing the hole in his chest where nerevar had killed him the fateful day of the foul murder* He would have been rid of that poison by now if you weren’t so engulfed in your selfish, sickening desires. *folds his arms* I will not return. Not until you love him for whom he is. He is part of me, even in all his differences… *turns away* He is loyal to you still. Despite all your cruelty… just as I was.

Nerevar: w-was?…

Voryn: *glares back at him with glowing red eyes as his skin turns grey and his hands clawed and bloodied* You will need to earn me back… I don’t love you anymore.

Nerevar: *heart and mind shattering like glass as the vision begins to fade and voryns words pierce his very soul* Voryn no! VORYN PLEASE IM SORRY! IM SORRY!!! *gasps as he’s suddenly ripped from his mind to find himself back in the chamber, the only sound that of Shamats soft crying* voryn… *looks to the stone slab to see Shamat laying there in pain, blood pooling around him and his delicate body quivering with hard breathy sobs between whispers of ‘I’m

Sorry’ and ‘please forgive me’ * …Shamat…

[everybodyshusband]

angst is angsting. please tread carefully.

cw. dewdrop angst, self hatred, self harm, suicide.

this ritual has happened many times before. with dewdrop it’s no different. the holy water splashed across his face, his hands, feet. doing its best to cleanse him of his many impurities.

the stone slab is cold against his back. or at least, he thinks it is. he’s not present enough in himself to know what he does or does not feel.

fear is there, he thinks. he’s seen the aftermath of this ritual many times throughout his life, but never seen or experienced the true act of it. he’s come close. almost barging in on ifrit. zephyr. aether too. but on all three of those occasions something had stopped him. he regrets it now. regrets not stopping them. and their executioners.

peace, also. as scared as he thinks he is, there’s certainty somewhere inside him as well. he knows this is what is best. for himself, the abbey, his pack. they’ll thrive without him weighing them down. that’s what sister had said to him. or maybe that conversation had happened in his head. he’s not sure. he’s not sure of anything anymore.

but. that’s not quite true. he’s sure of the sensation of the executioner’s blade dragging over his limbs. teasing him. taunting him. reminding dewdrop just how close his demise truely is. it’s cruel, really. and despite the fact his eyes are open, he can’t see. no matter how badly he longs to understand the hand holding the gilded knife, he can’t. not without his sight.

the blade digs in. someone on his thigh, he thinks. he’s naked on the slab. the executioner has his entire body as a canvas, why not have fun with it. torture the prey a little bit.

dewdrop isn’t tied down. he finds that strange. but then again, he’s not sure he wants to escape. he knows he deserves this. deserves every ounce of pain the cruel hand is about to deal out to him.

the blade of the knife continues taunting him as he thinks. thinks about how much he deserves this. thinks that maybe, he’s not that scared after all. not if his participation in this ritual will be better for the pack. the band. the abbey. everyone.

the knife digs into his arm, running up the entire length of his inner forearm, flaying him open. the pain is agonising. he screams. the executioner doesn’t seem to care. the knife digs in again right as blood starts to rush to the surface. it slices through already broken lines of skin, tearing through muscle and fat like butter.

the executioner repeats the actions on dewdrop’s other arm. then on his thighs. he’s bleeding out. intentionally having his arteries sliced open until he bleeds out and becomes a shrivelled husk of who he once was.

he doesn’t want to be here as he bleeds out. doesn’t want to be conscious. the pain is starting to creep in and it’s horrific. he can’t stop screaming. he thinks he’s sobbing to. crying out apologies to everyone he’s ever impacted throughout his miserable life.

the knife comes to his throat. it shakes against the vulnerable skin. if the executioner is having second thoughts, it’s too late. he’s dying. he can’t be saved. not now.

when the knife finally digs into his throat, silencing his last breath, he realises his own hand holds the blade.