#void-tell me wat to do

[jgcbikb]

okay void, i surrender

okay "the court" is tumblr and the next thing the audience "hears" is a horny wlw post

[dog-girl-zezora]

Been so normal lately I spent that past 2 days having a bipolar episode and crying through work only to end up habby and brain dead again

Girl what the fuck is wrong with you

Life is good life is ending make up your mind

[skzimagines]

Part 12

Characters: Hyunjin x Female reader

Genre: Obsessive!Hyunjin

Warnings: 18+ minors dni | Smut | Swearing | alcohol | dominant sexual behavior | drama |

Summary: Hyunjin leaves y/n.. and he finds her finding comfort in the arms of someone else. Sending himself into a pit of doom without her. He needs her, he needs her with every sense of his body. She is his… And he is hers. Always.

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I make my way into the room with Minho. I look around the room, feeling an empty void in my heart. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want this. I want hyunjin, I want him to hold me, tell me he loves me. I want to smell him, hold him and never let go. “Minho, I can’t do this.” I whisper. He gives me a small smile, pulling me into a hug. “It’s okay, I understand.” He pulls away to look at me. “But if you ever need me, I’m always here for you.” He says, I give him one last hug before giving him back his sweater and grabbing my bags.

I make my way out of the room and head further down the hall to Hyunjin’s, I grab the door handle, about to open the door, when I hear moaning coming from the other side. MY heart can’t take any more pain. I run down the stairs, straight out the back door to where the cars are parked. “Hey!” I hear someone yell from behind me. I stop in my tracks and turn around. I see Chan standing there. “What do you want?” I ask. “I want you to come see hyunjin, he’s an absolute mess.” He says. I scoff at his statement, knowing damn well he’s in that room doing stuff with the girl he brought back here. “An absolute mess? In bed with the bitch he brought here?” I chuckle evilly. Chan give me a confused look. “He’s laying on the ground crying by the fire pit, asking for you. He’s not inside.” He says. I feel like a boulder was lifted off of my shoulders, and I can finally breathe okay again. “Well isn’t that what you and that girl he’s with are there for? You guys can help him.” I say, wishing it was me over there with him, not her. “He wants you y/n.”

I sigh, looking back at the cars. “He asked for you.” I hear Chan say. “I’ll check on him, then I’m leaving. For good.” I say demandingly, while walking past Chan and making my way back to the fire pit. I see hyunjin laying on the ground, tears rolling down his face. I look over and I see the girl he had with him, taking videos of his drunken body and laughing. “What are you doing?” I ask her. “This shit is hilarious, you really fucked him up.” She laughs. I grab her phone out of her hand, deleting the video and throwing her phone across the yard. “You think this is fucking funny?” I tell. “I think it’s funny how he wanted to be in my pussy the minute he walked out on you.” She says with venom in her voice, walking closer to me. My brain doesn’t even have time to think, before my fist does all of the talking. I land a blow straight into her nose, sending her back into the ground. I quickly climb on top of her, landing blows to her face as fast as I can. I suddenly feel two arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me up and off her. My arms still flaring trying to get ahold of her. I see all of her friends make their way towards us, calling me a crazy bitch, telling everyone they’re leaving. My breathing finally settles and I turn around to see who pulled me back, and I see Changbin. “Why’d you do that?” I ask out of breath. “Because I seriously thought you were going to kill her.” He chuckles.

I turn my attention back to hyunjin, who is now sitting up with his legs brought up to his chest. His eyes are puffy and I can see the bags filling under his eyes. Why is my heart breaking for him? He did this to himself, he could have just talked to me. I curse myself for feeling any sort of remorse for him. But yet, I can’t help still loving him with every ounce of my being. I walk up to him and hold out my hand “come on, we’re going to talk.” I say. He grabs my hand and stands up. I walk him over to the dock and we sit at the edge, our feet dangling in the water. It’s silent between us, only the sound of the frogs and water moving in the background. At this moment it feels peaceful. But my heart is telling me otherwise. “I’m going home, hyunjin.” I’m the first to speak. He lets out a sigh, dropping his head. I see his face clench up and a tear falling from his eye, landing on the blue blanket he had brought with us. “Please don’t.” He whispers. I shake my head in disbelief. “Why?” I ask quietly. He grabs my hand, enlacing his fingers with mine, hard. “Because I need you..” “you don’t need me hyunjin, you made that very clear.” I say sternly. “Don’t say that… you can’t say that, you know I need you.” He pleads, finally looking at me. “You left with those girls hyunjin, you brought her back here. She was doing things to you right in front of me.” I say, tears welling up in my eyes. “And you kissed Minho..” he whispers. I scoff. “To get back at you! It was out of fucking anger hyunjin! I shouldn’t have done it, I know that. But the way you were looking at me when it was happening. It just-” I stop talking, not being able to find the words to explain my anger. “I’m sorry y/n.. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me, when it comes to you… I just- just lose it. I can’t explain it.” He says sadly. “Well you’re going to have to try your best at explaining it Hyunjin, because I just don’t get it.” I sigh.

“Before we started dating, my mind was already set on thinking you were mine. The jealousy that raged through my body every time I seen you with someone else, every time one of the guys said they were going to try to get with you. My mind just went to these dark places, I just wanted to hurt anything and everything in my path. Just to have you y/n. And now I finally got you, and I swear it just got one hundred times worse. I just explode. I can’t control it, it feels like you’re a piece of me. And when I hear about someone who might even possibly take you from me, I can’t fucking handle it. I can’t lose you! Okay? I just can’t y/n. I fucking love you, more than anything on this earth. I love you with every fiber in my body.” He stops talking, letting out a long breath. “No one would take me from you hyunjin… you don’t understand how much love I have for you.” I whisper.

I lean over, pressing my lips to his. The kiss turns sensual very quickly. Our hands exploring each others bodies so quickly, it feels like our touch wasn’t even there. He gently pushes me back, laying me on the dock. He rolls on top of me, keeping our lips connected. His hands run up and down my side, sending goosebumps up my arms. “I fucking love you y/n.” He whispers through kissing. “Don’t leave me..” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him right against me. Our chests rubbing together as our make out only grows stronger. “I won’t leave you hyunjin.” I whisper. He moves his head down to my neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses as he goes down. “You have to work on this anger though, you have to hyunjin.” I say as he makes it down to my breasts. He pulls my shirt down, forcing my tit out of my bra. He licks my nub lightly, causing it to harden under his touch. “I’ll do anything for you baby, anything.” He pleads. Before wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard. My back raises and my head falls back as he does. I feel his hand travel down my body and underneath the waist band of my shorts, his long skinny fingers rubbing over the top of my wet heat. A soft moan leave my lips as pleasure surges through my body. He begins rubbing slow circles over the clothed clit, feeling and hearing the sound of my juices move around in my panties. “You fucking wet for me baby.” He whispers against my chest. He lays his face in the middle of my tits, taking in a deep breath before sliding his hand inside my panties and shoving two fingers inside me. I gasp for air as he directs them upward, hitting just the right spot. He moves his fingers inside of me in a ‘come here’ motion, as fast as he possibly can. Sending me completely over the edge. I yell his name, my hands flying to his hair, pulling harder than I intended to. “Fuuuck.” I moan out loud. “Feels so fucking good.”

As I come down from my high, I feel my shorts instantly stick to me, soaking wet, as hyunjin pulls his hand out of my pants. “Made my baby squirt for me.” He whispers with a smirk on his face. He brings his hand up to my face, showing me his drenched hand. “Open.” He says, setting his fingers on my bottom lip. I open and take his fingers into my mouth, sucking my juices away. Humming at the taste. “My good girl.” “You can’t leave me, you’re mine baby. I own you.” He whispers. Without any knowledge that he’s been rubbing his cock with his free hand this entire time, he sits up. Cock on full display as he continues to jerk himself in front of me. I sit up, moving my face closer to his hardened member. “Let me help you jinnie.” I whisper, moving his hand away and wrapping mine around his base. I wrap my lips around his tip and suck. Bobbing my head up and down along with my hand, I feel him twitch in my grasp not long after. I soon feel his release cover my mouth and throat, his hand comes down to my cheek, resting on it as he rubs his thumb softly against it. “Open baby, show me who you belong to.” He whispers. I slowly open my mouth. Showing him his release. He quickly slams his lips into mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth, tasting his cum with me. We both moan into the kiss. I swallow into the kiss and shortly after he pulls away. “All mine.” He whispers. His forehead resting against mine. “All yours jinnie.” I whisper back.

—————————————————————————————

Part 13

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @s4torii444

[distinguisheddingus]

Little rant about Steve's family and his childhood trauma.

I often think about Steve's family situation. In some fics his parents are portrayed as absent but loving but I think this doesn't exactly add up to what we canonically know about Steve's family (although it is very little). Steve only mentions his family twice in the entire show in two occasions:

after the party where Barb disappeared saying his parents would be pissed off.

in relation to his non-admission to college saying (if I remember correctly) that his father had cut his funds and for this he had to find a job.

From here we can already begin to understand some things about this family. Season 1's Steve comes across as something of a golden boy type with a rebellious side. We know 17-year-old Steve, affluent, with typical good-guy looks, (what he basically turns out to be) and fame as the "king" of high school. He is immature, self-absorbed, a bully with a reputation for sleeping with many girls. In short, he's in his rebellious phase and this made me reflect on the reasons behind this behavior.

According to the basics of psychology, it could be said that his behavior depends mainly on the absence of his parents, on the desperate desire to be noticed by them, like "I need you to be there for me so if I do this you can't ignore me" and this makes me think that he had a very lonely childhood. His parents probably filled him with toys in an attempt to "fill" the void of their absence. So in Steve's life there's this constant sense of loneliness, the terror of being loved and not loved enough.

The reaction to the breakup with Nancy could be interpreted as perfectly normal, but if we look closely we notice that the next day Steve's first reaction to Nancy was passive-aggressiveness. It gives me the impression in that scene that doesn't wats to have a real confrontation (he didn't look for answers, he just fired shots (?) at her), but rather he just wants to hurt Nancy as much as she hurt him. Because he knew exactly where that conversation would lead them.

During the show we then see how this breakup has signed him. The façade of self-centered King Steve falls away, making room for a guy who would do anything for the people he loves like putting his life on the line so many times for his friends, always ready to sacrifice himself. And all this because he is desperately afraid of losing the people he loves. Steve would give his life for who he cares about and in my opinion there is a real childhood trauma behind it.

During the show there were two relationships that mainly influenced Steve's change: the one with Nancy and the one with Dustin.

Talking about how his relationship with Nancy, it changed him dramatically. Personally I don't think that the motivation behind that change is "Nancy Wheeler" per se but what he had experienced with her, as her boyfriend. Let's make a premise, I am strongly convinced of the fact that much of Steve's attraction for Nancy depends on the fact that she represents in some way a mother figure, who has become increasingly stronger over the course of the series. Steve found in Nancy the tenderness, the attention, the love, the care that he probably didn't fully experience in his family, especially from his mother figure. Mrs Harrington is in fact kind of a mystical figure, she hasn't been mentioned once in four seasons and this makes me think she's probably even more absent than Steve's father is (I would love to know what is their job). Moreover, attending the Wheeler house, Steve experienced the sense of family. In several scenes in S1 we often see the Wheelers sitting at the table as the typical normal family... Ted reading the newspaper, Karen feeding baby Holly in the high chair, Nancy and Mike fighting over the most trivial things.

In short, these are all things that Steve has never experienced and we may had the confirmation in the S4, when Steve tells about his dream of the 6 little nuggets to Nancy and he does that with a great family desire. He would like to live and let his future children experience what he has probably always lacked. The love and the unconditional support from a family. And here we come to Steve's innate sense of fatherhood. We all know that our beloved babysitter is always ready to support his kids, whether we see it when he goes to watch Lucas' game, when he gives girlfriend advice to Dustin or worries for the safety of Erika and Max... We don't t need to repeat that Steve would risk his life for them. But of all, his friendship with Dustin is what we all adored the most on the show.

Steve is not only a friend to Dustin, but a real mentor. He's been doing it from the beginning, starting with giving him advice on girls and hair, to being there for him when he needed it the most. And when Eddie Munson came into the picture he was so freaking jealous (poor daddy Steve).

But the question I asked myself was… Why does Steve act like this more with Dustin than with the other kids? And the answer came almost spontaneously. Dustin doesn't have a father. In reality, in the first season there was a Mr Henderson who then magically disappears, in fact in the following seasons we see that Dustin lives with his mother and Mews, and his father is not named even by mistake. And that got everyone thinking that Dustin's dad is probably gone. Canonically we know that Dustin hasn't always live in Hawkins and its possible that the Henderson spouses had divorced long before season 1 and probably Claudia and Dustin moved to Hawkins following the separation. And here' again abandonment's trauma... Steve knows what it means to experience the absence of a parent and probably almost unconsciously decides to replace this figure in Dustin's life within the limits of his possibilities.

And this is all. I just felt like sharing my rant on this topic. So I'll leave you (to go back to studying 🥲) asking you two questions: what do you think? And above all... what profession do you think Steve's parents do?

They are rich, they're never home... and this made me think that they could work for the government or something like that.

*sorry for any errors, blame Google Translate

[zepandovski]

You said to send asks but i had no clue what to send so here's some excerpts of lore from my Sonic AU's google doc I guess !

The Chronophage ”Chrono” or Time Eater : Beast that controls the passing of time. Born of people’s hearts, there’s a piece of it inside every person. Its form changes as understanding of time in humanity evolves, though it is formless originally. In Sonic’s era, it features mechanical clock patterns, like gears and clock hands, and notably, a grasshopper mechanism. In Silver’s Era, it’s a really weak entity, as most ways to tell precise time have been destroyed, and current technology is focused on survival purposes. In that time, it appears as a dark void and features patterns reminiscent of code and bells.

Rumor has it that if you see a grasshopper in your garden, it’s a sign you should do something you’ve been putting off. In Silver’s future where nature is extremely rare, grasshoppers are a legendary animal and a superstition goes that seeing a grasshopper in your dreams or waking hours means the end of your time. Because of this legendary status, grasshoppers are a popular image to tag for survivors to signify their presence.

This is a recent addition because I learned recently that the Time Eater looks reminiscent of an actual clock ! And the mechanism it uses looks like a monstrous grasshopper, it's pretty cool !

My AU's not about it in particular ( it's a reimagining of the whole canon ), but it's apart of it so I thought it was interesting to share.

What's a Sonic creature or boss fight you find interesting ?

YES YES YES YES TY FOR THE LORE MEAL!! I'll gladly accept any lore snippet from your au! Im still very curious about it :D

Thats a pretty interesting interpretation of the time eater, even more the grasshopper symbolism, i loved how different it is on silver's era and it makes sense!

Now for the lil question, hm, for the creature..ngl the black arms still gives me interest, like we dont have much information about them besides of wat we have in Shadow's game [and thanks to him we will never fucking know more about them TY SHADOW FOR MAKING THEM EXTINCT/sarcastic]

I haven't played much sonic games so for me to remember some creatures and boss fights will be difficult KWBDKEND

Another one that i find interesting is just, all of the unleashed dark gaia creatures, dark gaia itself and our boy the werehog! I wished we could have got more about them just like the black arms..

For the boss fight, i'll just grab frontiers and well TMoSTH if that counts, i found the think levels so cool and interesting but also irritating OWNDLEND

[esthersluvspink]

Hi again .. been so long since i last done this .. idk y but i came today bc im sad af.. again” ik i suck for just lamenting here.. lol. But guys tday a crush the person i love sm unfriend me on genshin n also closed our chats on dc .. their last text was “cool, bye bye tc” how would i ever .. omg i so fked up !! I cant do shits anymore.. i just cant take it idk wats happening .. we used to play hours together chatting .. i loved them … they loved me (maybe they didnt) but i felt like they did.. uhh never e date yall .. this gets u nowhere.. some ppl suck.. i need to adjust stuffs now .. i need to gulp this shit in my head n tell myself this person never came to me we never fking met !! God i hate this feeling its a like a deep dark tainted sea inside my hollow heart ..how do i ever fill this void ? u deff wont get me n its ok .. bc tf who cares right! byee n f u ppl who does this ..

[theenemyod]

Introduction post

My name is Alexander-Grace. Call me that or shorten it idc.

I AM A MINOR. I am not comfortable sharing my age online but please keep the fact that I am a minor in mind when interacting with me.

I am autistic.

I age regress, range from 0-8

I am transmasc, genderfaunet, and use a lot of neopronouns. I might add the list to this post eventually but currently can't be bothered. The main pronouns I use are he/they/it/xe/rat.

Things I like:

The magisterium books, the land of stories books, Minecraft, drawing, writing, Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, creepy/cute stuff in general, anything fluffy, rodents, the hunger games books, fidget toys, weirdcore, sea glass.

DNI: homophobic, transphobic, ablist, racist. maps. If you think it's okay to send death and sa threats and tell someone to kill themselves over fiction. If you make fun of trauma. Kink and/or nsfw.

Pronouns list

He/him they/them it/its fa/fall lea/leaf/wa/warm co/cozy doll/dolls haunt/haunts ki/kill gho/ghost boo/boos tomb/tombs spi/spirt dea/death ai/ai app/apps beep/boop bot/bots bolt/bolts gli/glitch e/exe gear/gears mal/ware swi/switch sol/solar wire/wired cell/cells cha/chaos wi/wifi met/metal robot/robots gla/glass wing/wings li/light colour/colourful col/colour bright/brights toy/toys cu/cute char/charm bow/bows horr/horror miss/missing fog/foggy eldri/eldritch wat/watch uncan/uncanny swe/sweet mou/mouse rat/rats key/keys win/window cli/click da/data scr/scroll er/error scre/screen wi/wire fi/file zhe/zher ha/hate loa/loath hau/hostile ra/rage kni/knife po/poem si/sick pill/pills gore/gores rot/rots rib/ribs gut/guts zomb/zombs bite/bites bone/bones death/deaths bleed/bleeds scar/scars decay/decays alien/aliens star/stars dus/dust gal/galaxy glim/glimmer spi/spin ro/rock Lu/luck ri/ring vi/virus ca/cable ga/game da/data web/webs com/compute net/network cy/cyber drip/drips tile/tiles wade/wades clear/clears step/steps flu/fluid soak/soaks spiral/spirals browse/browses click/clicks connect/connects font/fonts disk/disks hack/hacks lag/lags http/https page/pages net/nets pixel/pixels web/webs tab/tabs site/sites tech/techs upload/uploads wire/wires snarl/snarls dog/dogs fear/fears hu/hunts brain/brains tu/tune wa/walk si/sing sea/search fer/feral meat/meats teeth/teeth mew/mews ring/rings ⚙️/⚙️ 🔧/🔧 🤖/🤖 th⭐️y th⭐️m h⭐️ h⭐️m 404/404 💻/💻 👁️/👁️ 🌕/🌕 ✨/✨ shy/hyr ze/zer sea/seas rain/rains pond/ponds yippee/yippees void/voids moon/moons star/stars blur/blurs skull/skulls grave/graves night/nights bug/bugs gut/guts paw/paws honey/honeys mush/mushroom stone/stones mud/muddy creek/creeks Gold/golds fun/fungus frog/frogs snail/snails silver/silvers moss/mossy fae/fare thon/thon blossom/blossoms buzz/buzzes pop/pops worm/worms sting/stings ladybug/ladybugs pumpkin/pumpkins

No I do not expect all of this to be memorized that's why I have it written down.

[catdemontraphouse]

Nooo triangle man ur so weak! They killed him with Barbie and the Rockers wat the hell 😭 come on u little fucker ur stronger than that?! What about ur blood soaked tome?? What about the horrors!

Quick someone tell me some trashy goth anime about moe demons I can watch to fill the sebastard shaped void because surprise!/s this isn’t doing it!

[geminiamethyst]

Skyline Gang. Chapter 9.

Prologue: click HERE

Chapter 8: click HERE

Chapter 10: click HERE

“Sprout!” Dude’s voice suddenly cut through the void. Sprout blinked, not realising that he was crying. He looked over at Dude, signalling that he had his attention. “Take your time! Take a deep breath! Don’t focus on your opponent or us! Just be yourself!”

Sprout blinked rapidly. He wiped at his eyes, clearing away his tears. He looked over at Dawn. She was sitting right there. There was a smug looking grin on her face. She actually believed that she was winning. And in a way, she was. She was already winning. Maybe he should give up…

NO!

Sprout suddenly got angry at himself. Before he could stop it, he slapped himself in the face. He shook his head a little, feeling more angry at himself. He can’t keep doing that.

Snap out of it, Sprout! You’ve got this! You can prove everyone wrong! You just need the right prop to start off with.

Sprout looked around. He needs to get his foot back in the game right now! He looked at the props before him. Nothing seemed to be good enough for now. He glanced around again. He’ll have to improvise for now in order to get a couple of laughs. He remembered that he still had his joy buzzer in his hand. He felt like his clothes were drying up surprisingly quick. He put it down to the stage lighting. So he could use the joy buzzer safely if he wanted to, but he felt like that wasn’t enough. Then he spotted something at the side on the stage. It was wacky, even bonkers to think that it might work, but he had a good feeling about it.

“Now what’s he doing?” Mimi asked as Sprout ran off stage. He didn’t pay attention to that as he approached a lever. He suspected that it was connected to some of the systems on the stage. He took a deep breath as he slipped on the joy buzzer. This was stupid, but he might as well try to go out with a bang. He placed the joy buzzer on the lever and pushed it down. He let out a yell as he felt electricity race through him. He was catapulted back and skidded onto the stage.

“Sprout!” Candi shrieked. Mimi held onto her to offer comfort.

“Is he okay?!” Dude asked automatically. Bud tried to peer through the grey barrier a little more but he couldn’t tell. Sprout laid there motionless. He was completely unconscious. Pip was ready to shout at Dawn to let someone check on him. Even Dawn seemed surprised by this sudden turn. She nearly declared victory when Sprout suddenly sat bolt right up.

“WOOOO! That was SHOCKING!” He grinned like a mad man. He was a little jittery and his hair had gone static.

“Sprout are you okay?” Candi asked.

“I’m fine! Just needed a little jolt for a jump start!” Sprout kept on grinning as he got to his feet.

That was more than a little jolt…

Everyone just looking even more shocked that Sprout had somehow walked away from whatever he did. All they head was a buzz and the lights flickering for a moment before Sprout was sprawled on his back. They didn’t know what he did but he seemed to be alright from it. The shadow might not have facial features, but from the way that it was standing, it did seem cross. It even stamped its foot a little.

“Oh relax, Shadow Man! Here! Allow me to BRIGHTEN up your day!” Sprout grinned. He was either incredibly brave or stupid at this point. Just as he said that, he grabbed at the shadow. He ignored the freezing sensation as he moved to shake its hand. The shadow violently jolted as electricity ran through it. It even glowed a little as the joy buzzer rang out like a bell. Candi couldn’t help but let out a giggle, which prompted Mimi to do the same. Bud, Dude and Pip started snickering. With that combined, Sprout’s meter started to move. Sprout let go of the shadow, causing it to stumble backwards. It recovered as Sprout grabbed the small bag on his side. He peeked inside and got a good idea. He opened it as wide as he could and tipped it towards the shadow. The shadow charged at him, and Sprout spilled the contents on the stage.

“Watch your step!” He warned mockingly as marbles rolled over to the shadow. It couldn’t stop in time. It stumbled and swayed until it fell backwards in a cartoonish way. If anyone had tried to hold back their laughter, they didn’t anymore. The group just couldn’t stop laughing. They weren’t just laughing because it was funny. They were also laughing because this was giving them a huge advantage. Even Rainbow was barking excitedly. The only one that wasn’t laughing was Dawn. In fact, she was getting furious as the laughter echoed around the building.

“Let’s switch it up a bit. After all, where’s the entertainment in just comedy, eh?” Sprout challenged. He suddenly stopped grinning. He held his stomach as he started to gag. Everyone stopped laughing, immediately getting concerned again. Sprout kept gagging as his hands went to his mouth. He opened it. And he started to pull cards right out of it. As each card fell to the stage, everyone was caught up between relief, laughter and a little bit of disgust.

“Excuse me!” Sprout croaked before he coughed harshly. A card appeared in his hand and he grinned when he saw it. “Hey, Candi? This look familiar?”

“That’s my card from earlier!” Candi laughed as she pointed at the 7 of Diamonds. She even encouraged Dude to look a bit more since she knew that he had witnessed the magic trick that morning. Sprout felt like he was on a good streak. This was his moment. Every quip he gave and slapstick he performed on the shadow was met with laughter from his new friends. The shadow tried to do more against him, but he was much faster in his act. He couldn’t have had been more proud of himself in his life. He honestly wished that his dad was here just to prove him wrong. Once he gets home, that’s what he’ll do.

“Time I introduce myself to our host! Right gang!” He declared with a wide grin.

“Excuse me?” Dawn said, getting ready to pop a blood vessel.

“Hey my name is Sprout, and there really is no doubt, I love to laugh and play the fool!” Sprout grinned. He spread out his arms in an exaggerated manner, smacking the shadow as it popped up from behind him. “Opps!”

The others kept laughing at the shadow’s expense. It kind of deserved it when it was doing something similar to Sprout. Sprout agreed as he laughed as well. Then there was something different going on with him. There was just this soft green glow. It covered him from the shoulder down to his feet. There was even a glow on the top of his head and face.

“What’s happening to him?!” Candi exclaimed, not sure if she should be worried or excited. Everyone watched closely as Sprout’s clothes suddenly seemed to change. The shorts grew a little longer, ended at just above his ankles. The shorts and shirt seemed to merge a little as they formed into overalls. His head appeared to become spiky.

The light glowed brighter for a brief second before it finally died down. Sprout’s appearance had completely changed. He was wearing a set of green dungarees that were in two different shades. Pinned to the front was a circle that had three black points coming out of the top. The circle had a spiral pattern with his name printed in black. He bore a white shirt underneath the dungarees and his trainers were white and green. A hat sat upon his head. It was bright green camouflage pattern with spikes. His face was also painted. His eyes were painted similar to a clown’s. The top was green, the bottom was white. His lips were painted green with a white stripe in the middle.

“Holy transformation!” Bud exclaimed, just as surprised as everyone else. That caught Sprout’s attention. He stopped smiling as his realised that everyone was both shocked and amazed. He was a little confused. He reached up to scratch his head, but stopped when he felt the hat instead of his hair. He looked down at his clothes, jumping a little.

“Oooohhhhh! Cool!” He smiled with delight as he looked down at his own name. He looked over at his opponent. It was strange. The shadow was shuddering, almost like it was suffering from a fit. Before anything else could happen, it dissolved. Sprout was stunned for a moment. He then looked at his friends. And he grinned as he raced down the steps. “I win!”

“That was so good!” Dude beamed as the barrier disappeared.

“Well done, Sproutie!” Candi cheered as she offered a high five to Sprout. He happily accepted, still feeling like he was on cloud nine.

“Look at this new look! Pretty cool huh?” He boasted, spinning on the spot. “I’ll say that it will grow on me!”

“It’s not just your clothes. Take a look at your face.” Mimi grinned, taking out a compact mirror from her pocket. She opened it up and allowed Sprout to look at his reflection.

“Bonkers! This is awesome!” Sprout laughed, inspecting the face paint. This couldn’t have suited him more. He really felt like he would fit in the circus now. “It’s like I’m a circus clown!”

“Hey. Sorry about doubting you. No hard feelings?” Pip spoke up, offering out a hand.

“Be kinda hard to have hard feelings, I’m not made of stone after all!” Sprout grinned, taking off his joy buzzer and shook Pip’s hand. There was a mixture of groans and giggles at his little joke and Rainbow started head butting Sprout a little for attention. Sprout just continued to grin as he started to make a fuss of the dog, still getting congratulatory comments from the others.

While this was going on, Dude looked up at the stage. Sprout’s meter was almost full. He was close to winning anyway. Guess that costume change ensured a victory for him since it made the shadow disappear.

Dude turned to see if Dawn was still sitting on her throne, but she was gone. Throne and all. She must be sour after that defeat. She must have found it humiliating to see her minion lose like that. At least she cleared the stage as she left and played fairly enough during the challenge. It was a shame she retreated so quickly, Dude wanted to ask her about Sprout’s change in appearance and what it meant. He’ll have to wait until next time.

There was this feeling. A change in the air. Dude wondered a bit until he found himself looking at the glass doors. He expected to see the blackness, however he was surprised. There was something out there. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it stood out brightly against the black.

“Hey, look at this!” He called out, approaching the doors. The others stopped their celebration and chased after him. By time they caught up, he was already by the doors. They peered out into the darkness, immediately noticing what Dude had spotted.

“It’s a fairground ride!” Bud exclaimed in surprise. Right there, lit up almost like a Christmas tree, was a “chair-o-plane” ride. It still maintain its Victorian era decor, lights shining brightly like it was ready for operation. As much as everyone was amazed and confused however, there was something else that stood out.

“There’s someone out there.” Candi pointed out.

“Who is that?” Mimi asked. Dude looked at the doors. He pulled a little on one of them, but immediately shut it when he felt a massive pull on him.

“Whoa! We still can’t go out there…” He panted.

“So then, how is he okay out there?” Bud asked. The person outside may have heard the door open and close or he might have sensed someone watching him, as he slowly started to turn around.

“Sprout, isn’t he dressed a little like you?” Pip asked cautiously, immediately noticing the green dungarees and similar face paint on the man. The only difference was that he didn’t have a hat.

“Wait! He’s one of the ones in that photograph!” Bud shouted, instantly remembering the photograph from the day before. Sure enough, the face was the same as the one from the photo. But the man standing there was a faint green and seemed to be transparent. He seemed sad, like he had been broken hearted. He looked solemnly at the doors. When his eyes landed on the teens, his broken hearted expression suddenly turned hopeful. Then his eyes landed on Sprout. He suddenly smiled tearfully as he waved enthusiastically.

Sprout overcame his shock and waved back just as excitedly. The man waved for a little more, before he looked towards the ride. There was this faint sound of music. The man didn’t wait to investigate. He climbed up the steps and sat on one of the chairs. The moment that he strapped himself in, the ride rose up and started to spin. Every time he saw them, he’d smile at the group watching him. Every turn he made he started to fade away, becoming something that looked like green dust. By time the ride stoped, all that was left was a glittering green trail from where the man had sat. The ride powered down and the music turned off, but the lights continued to shine brightly.

“That was…kinda spooky!” Bud spoke at last. He wasn’t sure how else he could’ve described this moment. He wanted to observe more but he couldn’t without going outside.

“Let’s just get away from the windows.” Dude suggested, gently pulling Candi and Bud back.

“Are you okay, Sprout?” Candi asked, noticing that Sprout hadn’t moved from the doors as everyone else did. He was silent, just staring out at the ride. He was absolutely still like a statue. His shoulders were slumped a little. His head was bowed a little. No one could tell if he was in shock or grief or maybe even both. Dude gently placed a hand on his shoulder. It brought Sprout back. He perked his head up and turned with a smile on his face.

“I made him happy!” He cheered. No one spoke against that. “Didn’t you see the smile that he had on his face?! He was glad that I won that challenge! Sure he was a ghost, but I think I helped him move on! Laughter is always the best medicine, even for ghosts!”

“That doesn’t make any sense…” Bud mummers, scratching his head.

“Bud, I think that it’s best that you don’t logic your way through it.” Dude says politely. Everybody else smiled sadly. They all agreed that whoever the man was and how he got that way, somehow didn’t matter at that moment. He’s moved on, that was what felt important. Sprout had this lingering sadness in him over seeing who might as well be his predecessor being like that. However, he tried not to think about that. He looked down at his clothes, pulling a little on the strap of his dungarees.

“I’m checking out my wardrobe! See if I’ve got more of these there now!” He declared, running off to the rooms.

“Wait for me!” Candi called out, running after him.

“Certainly a strange place.” Bud suddenly spoke, scratching his chin. “If we weren’t in imminent danger, I would study it more. Especially that transformation and ghost experience.”

“I’m sure that you’ll get to eventually.” Dude encouraged with a small smile.

“I hope so. I have to document this. Please excuse me.” Bud excused himself, walking the same direction as Sprout and Candi. Pip started to stretch her arms a little. She was still creeped out by the sudden ghost appearance and she needed to try to take her mind off of things for a while.

“Well, who’s up for a few games?” She suddenly shouted. “I’m dying to play some!”

“I’ll be right there, Pip!” Dude enthusiastically agreed as Pip started running to the arcade games.

“You’re on!” Pip cheered, glad that someone else was on board with trying out the machines. Dude was about to run after her, when he noticed how quiet Mimi had become. She was looking back out at the ride, as if she was expecting more to happen. Come to think of it, she hadn’t moved at all from her spot. She was just gazing out the doors. Her face was reflected off of the glass. She still seemed sad for the man that was out there, just like everyone else had. She also seemed worried, lost in thought. Rainbow was standing by her, looking up at her with sad brown eyes.

“Mimi? You okay?” Dude asked, slowly approaching her. Mimi jumped a little, thinking that everyone else had left already.

“Yes. I’m fine.” She smiled a little as she turned around. Dude wasn’t convinced but he decided to let it go. There wasn’t any point in forcing the issue.

“Do you want to join us?” He offered, pointing his thumb to the arcades behind him. Mimi glanced over, spotting Pip going between each game to see what she liked the look of.

“Arcade games aren’t really my thing.” She politely declined. She felt like she needed an excuse to be alone, so she pointed to where the shops were located. “I’m going to look around the shops, maybe get some shampoo from one of them. And try to find where we can do our laundry too.”

“If you say so, but the offer still stands.” Dude shrugged. Again, he didn’t like that answer, but he didn’t want to feel like he was intruding. He just didn’t want to feel like he’s doing the wrong thing. Trying to make it seem like everything is still okay, he started to walk over to where Pip continued her exploration. “Come find us if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, Dude.” Mimi smiled as she waved at him. As he started to disappear among the arcade machines, Mimi’s worry crept back in. She glanced once more outside, staring hard at the ride. It still shined brightly, ready to be used when the time came. It’s just the fact that it was there form literally nowhere was creepy enough. That ghost just added more to it. The only thing was that the man looked almost like the way Sprout is now dressed. Will that also happen to Sprout? And if it doesn’t, will there be more?

Rainbow suddenly nudged Mimi’s hand. She snapped out of her thoughts and felt obligated to pat Rainbow’s head. She can’t keep worrying like this. Feeling like she was going to get an unnecessary wrinkle or loose hair from the stress, Mimi started to walk away from the doors. She just needs to look around the shops, that will make her more calm. And find a laundrette. She can’t walk around in unwashed clothes anymore starting tomorrow.

[caregiver-twylas-daycare]

M habs red dem, sowy bout complainy so much :( jus scared an sad an don kno wat to do :( -🕸🕷

Good job. It's okay void, I can tell Ash is there, either you. You can complain to me all you want. I know it must be hard. Maybe you can try coloring?

[official-lucifers-child]

Wats the funniest response to ur survey so far

well 350 responses so here’s both funny ones and then me answering some of the questions:

gender:

“gender is for the mentally stable”

“i traded my gender for a sword”

“it exists, but that’s all i’m really sure of”

sexuality:

“god only knows and he ain’t telling”

“not sure but for sure like girls”

“wtf-sexual” x2

“hhhhhhhhhh boys”

romantic attraction:

“w...women👀”

“?? confusion”

“????? some ppl r hot sometimes ig”

“wtf-romantic” x2

“*stares into the void*”

“fuck all”

three wishes:

“world peace, halloween twice a year, the sims 4” this one just covers so much ground, between the altruistic “world peace” and just “the sims 4”

“i wish to insta-kill”

i shit you not, at least 100 people asked for shapeshifting

around 150 people found me through the “rb if ur gay” post

around 50 people openly and unashamedly said “it was a thirst-follow”, and about 50 more put it in less superficial-sounding terms like “i thought you were very aesthetically pleasing” and “i saw a selfie and thought you were pretty and went to your blog to look at more selfies”

someone uhhhhh. “i saw you on r/tumblr yeaaars ago. i think i might’ve been in middle school, and i’m in my senior year of high school now. i could be wrong about when i found you but i’m fairly certain” that most definitely was not me, as 4+ years ago i was about 10 years old and not on tumblr. i only got tumblr last year in august, so that is the earliest my posts would have been showing up on any other platform.

they are not the only person thinking that i’ve been here for a while, someone else apparently following in late 2017, another time when i definitely wasn’t on tumblr yet.

some questions people asked:

what’s my favourite musical: anastasia or phantom of the opera!!

“if you met me like at school or something and knew these things about me but we weren’t friends, would you be friends with me?” yes i would, 100%

yes i am aware that i am very cool

do i like living in chicago? yes i do!! it’s a lot of fun and i like the city a lot

what unique superpower would i have? emotion manipulation, maybe communication with animals? or “the ability to always perfectly convey exactly what i want to in every conversation and interaction”

people asking abt pokemon: i’ve never played, i know less than nothing about it, i don’t understand what you’re asking

“may i steal you” yes you may

“why don’t you answer my asks” i have 5500 asks, i have a life, i’m busy, i don’t have the emotional energy or the physical energy, the asks are irrelevant, i don’t feel comfortable answering them, need i come up with more reasons or is this enough

is my hair normally this fluffy or do i make it do that: it is just this fluffy on its own

can we be friends: well obviously yes

okie that’s it

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

Concerned

Title: Concerned Summary: Your dad got scared when you collapsed in his arms. As a concerned father, he took you to the Emergency to be sure you were alright. Pairing: Andy Barber x Daughter Reader Prompts: #12 “It’s 4 in the morning, what do you want?” // #14 “You’re scaring me. Please, just calm down.” // Gif #7 > Concerned Andy Warnings: Sick reader, pneumonia (symptoms information are from Google), Fluff Word Count: 1142 This was written for the @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ ‘s 500 Followers Challenge. A/N: I’m not an expert on medicine, all the information used regardless of the illness was gathered from Google. This is my first time writing an Andy Barber fic. I haven’t had the chance to watch the show yet. So please, excuse me if this doesn’t match the character of the show.

^

You got back from school and found your house empty like always. Since your mom and brother’s accident, it’s been you and your dad, Andy.  This past month has been really stressful, between helping your dad to cope with everything he’s been through, school, finals, keeping your grades up, it was a lot to deal with. You started to feel bad,  your body was aching and you had a throat sore, but you never mentioned it. You couldn’t burden your dad with this, besides it wasn't that serious. You ended up with a cold, you ignored it and kept with your busy schedule; that according to it,  you must sit for at least two final exams by the end of the month, and still, you weren't able to finish your flashcards. Last night, you gave yourself a hot bath because your body was too exhausted and achy. You were finishing getting your stuff ready to work in bed, you just wanted to lay in there forever. Your dad knocked on the door once and opened it

-Sorry, sweetheart — he mumbled — dinner is ready -I’m not hungry, but thanks — you said -You have an exam, now? -Nah, I’ve got an assignment to finish, it’s due soon -Good. I’ll bring you dinner instead — your dad insisted

He got back with a tray with the food and left it at the end of the bed. You decided to finish the assignment first before eating dinner. Once everything was done and the dinner was eaten, you went back to bed to get some well-deserved sleep. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to rest enough because you had to rush to your bathroom to empty your stomach. The stress was taking all out of you. Once you were sure your stomach was empty, you stayed on the bathroom floor, the cold tiles were calming in a way the strong headache you had and brought some relief to your hot skin as well. You noticed that it was hard to breathe while laying on the floor, so you got up and went back to bed to try to get some sleep.

A coughing fit woke you up in the middle of the night, you tried to call your dad but it was really difficult. You weren’t able to breathe properly, your chest was tight and you were in pain every time you tried to take a deep breath. Your body was really hot, you were hot. The clothes you were wearing were stuck to your body, you were drenched in sweat. You needed a shower. You tried to get up but your legs gave out and you landed on your knees. You got scared when you heard the wheezing coming from your lungs. You needed your dad. With all the strength you had left, you stood up from the floor and went to your dad’s bedroom forgetting the shower you planned to take. You didn’t check what time it was, he was probably fast asleep; you knocked on his door a few times and waited. You were lightheaded, everything was spinning and still, you weren’t able to take a deep breath since you've thrown up early that night. You didn’t notice when your dad opened his door -Sweetheart, it’s 4 in the morning, what do you want? You collapsed right in front of him. The wheezing in your lungs was harder, it was so much easier to hear it, you couldn’t breathe, everything was blurry and you were burning up. -Honey, what is it? Talk to me — he told you moving the hair that was stuck in your forehead You couldn’t say anything, you were struggling to catch your breath. He noticed your lips were changing the color and we're getting purple -You’re scaring me. Please, just calm down — he told you scared Your dad noticed that you were burning up, he had to do something. He grabbed a fuzzy blanket, he put it around your shoulders. Grabbing his cellphone and the keys, he took you to the ER, your lips were turning blue by this point. The trip to the hospital was stressful for your dad, he didn’t know what was going on, the last time he checked on you, you were fine. -Why you didn’t say anything, hun? — he murmured to you

Fifteen minutes later, your dad was parking the car in the ER’s parking lot. They admitted you immediately, and half an hour later, you were resting in your room with your dad next to you. After too many tests and oxygen treatments, the doctor came and informed your dad that you had pneumonia. The doctor explained that they were going to administer you antibiotics and that you needed the oxygen mask for now. As well, the doctor stated that if your body had a good reaction to the antibiotics, you were going to be able to go back home in a few hours and make a full recovery, but right now there was a slight chance that you could get worse because your fever was still high.

The sun was entering through the window when you woke up, your dad was sitting next to you with his hand on top of yours. You didn’t remember much of what happened. You squeezed your dad’s hand to get his attention.

-Hey — your dad greeted you — how are you feeling? -I’m tired and I want to go back home — you admitted -I know, sweetheart, but we have to stay here for a little while — he told you and a tear fell down your cheek You hated being sick, it made you too emotional. Your dad sat on the bed next to you. -Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling ok? -I thought it was a cold, but I guess I was wrong — you said -Well, don’t worry sweetie, you’re going to be fine. Doctor said you’re going to make a full recovery. — he said and kissed your forehead -I’m sorry, dad — you said -There’s no need to apologize, sweety — he told you and hugged you

A few hours later, the doctor decided it was ok to send you back home because your fever got low and your oxygen levels were fine. Your dad stayed with you all the time in case your fever or another symptom showed up again. He made sure you were relaxed and rested as much as you can. He called your school notifying that you were going to be absent and he called to his studio as well saying that his little girl needed his dad. 

Sometimes you hated your dad because you almost didn’t see him, but he was with you when you needed the most. He made sure to be with his little girl.

Tag List (Let me know if you wat to be added)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho | @void-hoechlin | @mrspeacem1nusone | @thevelvetseries | @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem | @caplanbuckybarnes | @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho | @stargazingfangirl18 |

[phytocondria]

Secret Note #7

Quick thanks to my friend @coolcoolglasses for the texting idea and help with Maru's nicknames. I really liked all the dialog in my last fics chapter so consider this a preview/extra for my next chapter on Ao3 whenever I get around to it. (Lil-nightmare is my farmer oc for context) p.s. the spelling mistakes are totally on purpose and not just me not knowing how to spell. (Maybe that too ^-^')

Word Count: 889 Summary: There's a mysterious note on the General Store's bulletin board.

Chicken_lord: dude wtf

StarR00-bot: Wait, what is hat?

*that

Lil-nightmare: Looks like it’s torn out of something

Chicken_lord: idk it was hangin on pierre’s

Lil-nightmare: What’s it say anyways?it doesn’t look like pierre’s normal stationary though

(maybe from a notebook)

StarR00-bot: Or a diary, I can’t make out who's handwriting it is though.

You need a new phone, the camera on yours is a potato dude

Chicken_lord: phones fine brains.

i’ll text what it says in a min

morris has been on our ass lately

Lil-nightmare: Sounds like an hr violation ;P

StarR00-bot: 😱

Gross

Chicken_lord: psssh, he wishes

StarR00-bot: fair, even you have standards

Lil-nightmare: Why do you still work there? You knowthe farms big enough I could hire you on permanently ?

Chicken_lord: and give you a excuse to boss me around

Lil-nightmare: Hey, I'm a cool boss.

I only require your eternal fidelity, and you can keep your first born

Chicken_lord is typing….

StarR00-bot: lol

We both know it’s because Charlie would be mad he’s cheating on her

Lil-nightmare: True, true.

Charlie would be heartbroken knowing you’re meeting with other chicks

StarR00-bot: With a hole other hen house? :0

*whole

How could you?!

Lil-nightmare: Probably smell of void essence on your clothes

StarR00-bot: Catching tbe feathers in your hair

*the

Chicken_lord: there are only a few older bachelors in town none of them are perfect harvey is really anxious and weak but he’d make a loyal and devoted husband he likes coffee and pickles

elliott is a bit foppish and melodramatic but he has anice chin he likes crab cakes and pomegranates

shane is messy and anti-social but I think his gruff exterior is a defense mechanism insulating his softness from the world he likes peer pizza and pepper poppers

Lil-nightmare: DA FRICK!?!?!?!?

StarR00-bot: sdhzxvbkj...

I’m wheezing

wtf?

Chicken_lord: thats what i said

like f***

imagine walking past and seeing this on your way towork

Lil-nightmare: HOLY FATHER OF YOBA. WHO WROTE THAT?!!?

StarR00-bot: And it was on pierre’s?

Chicken_lord: yup

Lil-nightmare: WHY THOUGH?

StarR00-bot: I feel like my brother has something to do with this -.-’

Chicken_lord: your bothers got the hots for older dudes?

Lil-nightmare: dskjcjvh, stop!

StarR00-bot: I mean he’s got the dady issues for that, but no

*daddy issues

Lil-nightmare: scxzfvuk

Chicken_lord: fuk...

good one roostar

Lil-nightmare: I hate all of this

Shane I’m blaming you

StarR00-bot: I meant him or Abi probably put it up

Sounds like something they do, yk

Chicken_lord: whatd i do

im the one with some weird secret admirer

StarR00-bot: And Harvey and Elliott

Lil-nightmare: … Harvey’s not weak though

Chicken_lord: nope

stopping you there

StarR00-bot: same

Don’t need to know that bout my boss

Lil-nightmare: ???

Wait

F*** you guys

I meant figuratively

But also, he’s been helping around the farm more :/

Chicken_lord: don’t need to here you simping over the doc either

Lil-nightmare: SEE THIS IS WHY I CAN ONLY BE NICE TO MARU

StarR00-bot: xD

Chicken_lord: yeah yeah im a a**hat

StarR00-bot: Lol, I’m just the favorite

Chicken_lord: do you mind getting back to whoever wants to workshopme and the doc

StarR00-bot: *sent is a gif of courage the cowardly dog villain saying “you’re not perfect”*

I think someone trying to neg you in their diary

*is

Lil-nightmare: Yeah

I mean messy?

Like they know your room is messy or just your whole deal?

Cause I mean…

Chicken_lord: *gif of someone slowly raising a middle finger in frame*

Lil-nightmare: I mean old you

(mostly)

Cause they also sad beer and not sparkling water

StarR00-bot: Oh yeah, plus you and Harv have been dating for how long already?

Chicken_lord: a decade

Lil-nightmare: *sends the same middle finger gif*

But yeah, it has to be kinda old at least

Chicken_lord: or someones a homewrecker

StarR00-bot: I doubt it

Lil-nightmare: …. 🔪

StarR00-bot: …

Lil-nightmare: So at least they’re on point with Elliot, I guess

And foppish is a weird word choice ya know

Chicken_lord: alex and sam are out don’t have the braincells for vocab

Lil-nightmare: Like aside from elliott, who would actually use the word “foppish”

StarR00-bot: I wanna say rude but I might actually keel over in laughter if I heard either one use the word

But yeah, probably not them or anyone in the note

Lil-nightmare: Or us and PROBABLY not any of the married folk unless… 👀

StarR00-bot: unless…. 👀

Chicken_lord: wat

Lil-nightmare: I mean…. Kent was gone for awhile….

StarR00-bot: nah, she might act mad thirsty, but she’s all talk according to mom

Lil-nightmare: Fair, plus turns out caroline maybe

Actually nvm, i don’t actually know know, yk?

StarR00-bot: NO WAY DOSH

*dish

preedy, pweese 🥺👉👈

Chicken_lord: ugh, your promised no more uwu talk brains

StarR00-bot: Lol

Lil-nightmare: I’ll tell you next time, but lips sealed Roo

StarR00-bot: 🙊

Promise

Chicken_lord: you guys can gossip without me

just wanted to show the weird note but my shifts starting

StarR00-bot: Ok bye, have fun feeding the capitalist machine :D

Chicken_lord: *middle finger gif again*

Lil-nightmare: Hey brng the note over later

(Maybe I’ll recognize the handwriting)

StarR00-bot: Ooooh you guys on the case of who done it?

Chicken_lord: eh not that committed nancy drew

Lil-nightmare: Come on, I got some peppers that nee testing

Plus MochI misses you (and Jas, bring Jas. I haven't seen in her in too long T.T)

Chicken_lord: maybe

[vivifrage]

(Okay apparently I have bigger brainrot than I thought for "on our side now"/WAT Stalker and Umbra being companions. No I don't care if that fic is years old and thus likely nobody knows what I'm going on about. When I write Warframe these days I write it for me.

Content warning for implied/referenced self harm)

15: Mercy (alt prompt)

He breathes carefully, both to keep the others from noticing and to avoid aggravating the wound through his belly. One hand rests beside it, just beyond the bounds of the healing, sensitive flesh. Close enough to acknowledge the pain, but not so close as to grant the actual wound realness.

He gasps in ragged breaths. His eye is exposed, alongside a swathe of raw, glistening flesh. He has healed it before with a smooth glow of Void magic, but he does not do so this time.

Someone approaches. His breath hitches and his stomach tenses, sending a pulse of pain through flesh and organs that had been impaled on a greatsword weeks ago and still have yet to heal. He snarls in warning; he cannot garner the will to look at whoever it is coming close. They are the enemy. Traitors. Bloodthirsty killers. As is he, because someone must do such horrible deeds, become such a horrible thing.

He looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps, a warframe's quiet, stealthy nature not slipping him by. After all, there's always tells. His eye goes wide, then narrows, working even though it is long sightless and vestigial.

A jar opens. He growls louder, and whoever it is flicks him on the arm for it, changing his growl to a hiss. It's Mag, and she holds before his face a jar of some kind of balm. He turns his head away and she sighs, almost soundless. She taps his shoulder, lets her hand stay there after. She hasn't touched him any more than necessary before.

The killing machine kneels before the old soldier. He has no balm to offer, and is under explicit instruction not to give him hot tea until he's calmed a little more, though the stringent and grassy aroma always seemed to calm him down that last bit. Instead, his hands cup the old soldier's face, careful not to touch the exposed flesh lest it sting.

She leaves him be after a time, but doesn't take the balm with. It sits there, medicinal scent burning in his lungs, taunting him. He reaches for it easily enough, but he cannot seem to so much as dip his shaking fingers into the jar, let alone smear it on both the entrance and exit wound. It hurts, both the wound and his failure to act.

The blind eye stares into him, seems to study the mark cutting through his face in jags and whorls. Slowly, his shoulders begin to sink, and one hand reaches up to almost embarassedly tug at his scarf, wound so tight around his neck it's a wonder it didn't choke him.

She returns after a time and watches him sit there with the open jar in hand, frozen. She approaches again, more cautiously now that he's paying attention, could possibly spring at her. She treats him like he is a wild animal, because she knows in any other circumstance, she would be prey. But once she gets close, she takes the jar from him and dips her fingers in, smearing the balm over the wound. He hisses, and she puts the jar down so she can rest a hand on his shoulder.

The old soldier sighs. Slowly, the golden gleam of Void begins to shimmer around the edges of the wound, his eye closing, the raw flesh knitting together with the Void until there is again naught but a smooth expanse of leathery grey skin.

The balm seeps in, drawing attention to the wound even as it soothes the pain. He shudders, despite all his will to show no weakness. It's too late for that. Ashamed, he submits to her sitting on the edge of the nook, hand on his shoulder, a galaxy spinning thoughtfully in her mask.

His thumbs brush where the old soldiers cheekbones were, once. Maybe still are, warped and twisted by the strain of Infestation that makes them both what they are. One subjected willingly, throwing his life, his body, his will away for the sake of vengeance. One transformed into a son-killing horror, all for caring about other people's children.

She takes a deep breath, squeezes his shoulder.

The killing machine leans in, and the old soldier does, too, until they rest forehead to forehead.

It is a cruel mercy he should never have been given, not for what they all have done, all of them with blood weeping from their hands.

It is what little he can do to try and convey he has been there, he has seen the curtain pulled away and the world revealed as a series of cruelties, yet he has received this most difficult mercy and now he extends it in turn.

She waits until he turns on his side, smears balm on the matching wound on his back, and when he relaxes, lets him rest.

Slowly, the two stand, arm in arm like the old soldier is aged and frail in a way he was never allowed to be, and they set off for the kitchen to make tea they can no longer drink.

[delicrieux]

Hello! May I have a one-shot with Kylo being injured and reader, who is part of the resistance, finds him and takes care of him? Thanks!

idk how this turned out to be 5k words but WHEW i mean if ppl want me to continue it im down so send in sum request of wat u think should happen!! xoxo gossip girl

requests are open! | masterlist | part 2.

Fear. The kind that makes it hard to breathe as if you are kept underwater; the kind that makes your muscles clench and freeze as all senses flow out one by one. Today had been almost too typical — you woke up, you trained, you talked to your comrades and learned battle strategy — and you were certain your evening walk would be just as uneventful. The breeze in your hair was playful; the setting sun provided warm light and set your surroundings in a pleasant, rosy glow. You like the fresh air; you like exploring; you like the freedom that comes with being alone in wilderness. And in turn, it serves as a reminder for why you are fighting in the first place. To preserve this peace, this freedom, that now has been tarnished when you stumble upon a body.

For a heartbeat you think he’s dead — his expression is lifeless and his face, pale as first snow, is bruised, covered in soot and dried blood. Willing your legs to move, you approach cautiously, not breathing, afraid to break the shrill, sudden silence — no birdsong, no wails of wind passing through trees… nothing. Life had, at that moment, stilled completely. But as you draw closer, grass crunching under your feet softly, you intake a breath of both relief and surprise. Dark locks of hair spray on his forehead and obscure the minuscule knit of his brows, his trembling lashes. He’s alive. The thought consumes you and you fall to your knees, skidding beside him, pushing his hair from his face and landing your palm on his forehead.

It’s awfully cold. Chilling. Almost biting at your sensitive flesh, urging you to pull away. It rolls in waves, this sudden cold, sudden sickness, as if it is a virus that spreads and you have caught it with this minimal contact. But you don’t pull away, despite the near overwhelming urge to do so, despite the fear returning with a new blow. Instead you glide your fingers down his jaw and press on his neck, breaking into a small, crooked smile once you feel a slow drum against them. He is alive, but barely. You glance about him, looking around the area. Nothing out the ordinary, no branches broken, no bushes disturbed and no trails left on the grass. How he got here is a mystery that will have to be solved a different time.

You hope he will tell you once he wakes up, if he even wakes up at all.

That, and, his name, too.

Your base is small and tugged away in a dense jungle, the tall trees and heat warding from unwanted visitors — the First Order. The compartments are small; there are barely above a few dozen people here; it serves more as a safe haven for lost wanderers looking for a cause or shelter, or a backup base in case others were destroyed and the rebels had nowhere to go. It is far away enough from war. Everyone here is, to some extent, safe.

You had never been on the front lines. You had never faced a Storm Trooper, had never seen the Force at work — if there even is such a thing, speculations speculations, nothing consistent, merely gossip — and you had never seen a dead body. Perhaps that is why you froze up so terribly at the sight of him. Perhaps that’s why you felt as if a void opened within you, swallowing up the last shred of light, of life, and leaving you hollow.

You should get used to the sight, though. There will be many dead in battle.

He’s the only one occupying a bed in the Medical Wing and he hasn’t woken up for two days now. His vitals are stable — no internal bleeding, no disease detected, nothing out of place as it seemed. But he is lost in deep sleep, constantly dreaming about something that made him tremble and muss and toss and turn, but never wake. It is entirely bizarre how his state is simply there, caused by no injury, no blow, nothing. And the more you take care of him… the more questions you get.

You eat in the cafeteria, a vast enough, pale walled space occupied by few people during lunch time. Next to you sits a blue eyed, blonde haired cherubic woman – she serves as the doctor, the only doctor here. She smiles lightly at you when you catch her gaze. You had always wondered why her name is Vendetta. 

The amount of denizens is small here, so small in fact that the only ones serving under this branch is a rag tag team of scavengers, travelers, nobodies that had abandoned their old lives to fight in this war. Rebels, quite literally, with a cause. Many have taken new names. Vendetta, too, had a name before this, a life, a different purpose. Though her odd choice leads you to believe that what ever had happened to drive her here was painful and severe, deserving justice. In front of you sits a tall, bony, brown haired, brow eyed mechanic with a scar running down half of their face – Q. And beside them, July – you had never seen him smiling, had never heard his voice hold a tender note in it. He is always displeased. Always with a frown.

“Seven.” Vendetta calls you, noting your blank stare, the untouched food in your plate. Seven. You chose this because you were the seventh child in your family, and, subsequently, the seventh person to join the Resistance when this base first opened.

“She’s probably thinking about the stranger.” Q mutters, taking a sip, “His origins are…” They glance about, leaning in slightly, “ A hot topic, after all.”

“We get injured wanderers all the time.” Vendetta waves them off, “As if he’s any different.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss him, V.” July grumbles, his voice low, the sound of crunching gravel. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, observing the three of you with something akin to hostility, “You never know who may be working for the Order.”

“You can’t just assume that.” You pipe up, “He might just be another gambler dropped by the Floating Casino because he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Or he might be a spy.” July stresses, glaring.

“No one knows there is a base here.” You continue, unrelenting, “Half the Resistance doesn’t know it exists, how can someone from the Order?”

“Still, I advice we exercise caution.” Q says calmly, a pleasant smile on their face — if anyone can defuse an argument before it starts, it’s them, “You never know what people are hiding, Seven.”

“Okay,” Vendetta chimes, “I will certainly not disclose this vital information when the man awakes from his comatose state. I shall make sure to confuse and frighten him further by chaining him to his bed.”

“Good.” July says.

“That is not what I had in mind, and you know it.” Q mutters, a tad disappointed, “I was thinking more along the lines of… An interview.”

“Too civil.” July mumbles, “I say we go with Vendetta’s idea.”

“That was not an idea,” She hisses, “it was sarcasm.”

“Fine, interview.” You submit, “Either way, I doubt anyone from the Order would not say they are from there. They are feared. Probably would think he has the upper hand, or something. Plus, our disguise is impeccable. We look like a research facility. Better yet, a shelter if no one wanders up to the main rooms.”

“I also sincerely doubt anyone, Order or not, is so good at lying first thing when they wake up.” Vendetta agrees.

July narrows his eyes at her, “That is an awfully naive observation to make.”

“Really now? It is a known fact that people half-asleep always tell the truth.”

Another hour of this and you feel drained and sore and with a mild headache. As much as their company has helped you, they can be a bit too eager to prove one another wrong. On most occasions you’d enjoy the chatter. Today, however, you feel too distracted to focus on anything. Q makes some good points, July argues, Vendetta and her biting comments pick at your skin. Always the blazing look in her eyes, always a certain gleam of anger hiding within her mellow, sweet tone. You excuse yourself when you finish your meal and they do not keep you from leaving. Perhaps they noticed you being out of it. Perhaps they were too caught up in their new topic – Lo and Chester’s sudden break up. 

It does not take you long to come to the Medical Wing. The door shuts with a silent sweep and your heart drops – the bed is empty. Before you can do much else strong arms wrap around you from behind. With a yelp you feel a hand squeeze your throat and your breath leaves you with a helpless whine, sparks flying in your vision. Your reflexes kick in before you can control them. In a panic, you elbow your attacker in the chest and the grip loosens a bit, enough to allow you to escape and put some distance. Inhaling mouthfuls of air, you turn to the man that had been sleeping since you found him in the wilderness.

You never quite realized how tall he is, or how angry he could be. He’s confused and you see fire in his eyes, a sneer on his face, and he stands unmoving, waiting for you to try something, anything, so that he could grab you and try to kill you again.

You raise your hands, palms up —a fragile, harmless motion to indicate you mean no harm. His guard is still up. He’s heaving and his shoulders are tense, his gaze not once leaving your form, “…Hi,” You wheeze, almost voiceless, “I’m not here to hurt you.” You indicate softly. Cold, again, as if thrown into a bottomless ocean; body heavy, like a stone. You gulp. “Are you alright?” You question gently, afraid to provoke him again. “You must be tired. You’ve been out for a while.”

“Where am I?” His voice is deep and scratchy and it seems to set him off. He trembles from anger, you can almost feel the steady build up of rage in his chest, ”Who are you?”

“I’m Seven.” You introduce, “I found you outside our base. Do you know how you got here?”

He takes a threatening step forward and your arms shoot higher, “I’m not your enemy.” You insist, “You are not a prisoner here. You were dying and I wanted to help you.”

He regards you for a silent moment as if unsure whether to believe you or not. However, you sense that he will not try to hurt you, for now at least. You give him a shaky smile, trying to ease him — you cannot imagine how frightening it is to awake in some room among strangers and not knowing where you are or what had happened. “Do you…know your name?” You continue your questions, your arms slowly falling by your sides. After another pause, he nods curtly, “Good. That’s good.” you step away from his bed, “Please, lie down. You’re still recovering. No shady business, I promise.”

You are a bit surprised that he listens, but you don’t show it. He’s cautious, regarding you as if you were some dangerous animal cornering him, and his walk is sluggish. You can tell it’s hard for him to move, but don’t say anything. You doubt it would do any good. He finally sits down and just stares at you. You try to smile again, “Do you know how you got here? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“How long have I been here for?” He asks instead.

“Two full days in the base.” You say calmly, “But out there?” You vaguely motion with your head to the outside world, “I don’t know.”

Your answer unnerves him. For the first time his frown falls and he stares at you with big eyes and a trembling lip, as if a lost child not knowing what to do. That expression warps suddenly and he looks away, his hands gripping the side of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

“Well, if there is…anything you need…” You start mildly, “You can call upon me. Or Vendetta. She’s the doctor here, so if you feel any pain or sickness, you should tell her. She’s sweet.” You smile, “And she will help. But right now, just try to rest…I’ll…leave you to it.”

You bolt past him to the door but– “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

You turn back to him, shaking your head lightly, “No. But it doesn’t matter. A lot of adventures come through here, lost and injured. You aren’t the first one. Now rest, please.”

He’s volatile, is what you learn upon the first days of his resurrection. His mood can change in a flip of a coin and he goes from placid to enraged in a blink of an eye. Tantrums, yelling — all signatures of a spoiled child not knowing what he has but simply wanting to break it. He’s nobility, or so your peers gossip. You hear snippets of all sorts of things, each more outrageous than the one before. The one that he is a prince kicked out of home for adultery seems to be the most popular one.

And he’s egotistical. He had not been, besides the attempted murder, that hostile and untamed towards you — the choking you told no one about as you concluded he simply felt threatened and scared. Though his other tantrums you are not so quick to chalk up as self-defense. Vendetta, exasperated, one evening told you that she somehow offended him — ”All I said is stop pouting because you need my help!” — and he, with a bruised ego, so high and mighty promptly jumped out of bed. Whatever he was trying to do backfired — perhaps he was trying to leave, or trying to grab something and to hit her with — but he slipped and fell and hit his head into the sharp corner of table. “And I said to him, oh I said: look what you’ve done now! Off to bed, quickly!” Vendetta finished bitterly, stabbing her fork idly into her food, possibly imagining his face there. His nose, much to V’s displeasure, was not broken, but an ugly gash and a dark bruise split his skin in half and he laid in bed sulking for at least a day.

As the week passed, he seemed to favor your company the most. It is not that he smiled and joked and laughed in your presence, and you were not exchanging secrets or hugging or even calling each other friends. He simply seemed to be more mellow around you, possibly because you oddly knew what to say and what to keep silent. It is as if you sensed the subtle shift of his moods; could read his expressions in a way no one could, perhaps no one tried. And you would come and visit him as often as you could when relieved of your duties — you felt responsible for him in a way, and you wondered if you would still feel this weight on your shoulders when he eventually left this place. After all it was you that had found him lying in the grass; it was you that had insisted to help him; and now, it is you that brings him food and tries to provide some comfort in a form of conversation. You don’t pry into his past, don’t even ask for his name, because you know he does not want to give it, and you won’t risk questioning in fear of another explosion of his temper. You talk about inconsequential things: what’s happening around the base, what sort of plants grow around here, what bugs could kill him before he took two steps. He especially enjoys hearing the rumors about him, even if he is too prideful to admit that they amuse him greatly.

“And what if I am?” He questions one evening, something akin to a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a kind hazel color that could be beautiful if not for the persistent angry spark within them that is now, seemingly, vacant, watch you closely.

You frown softly, “Are what?” You question, “A prince?” He nods. You snort, “Well then, your majesty, I shall make sure to inform the others. What will be your first decree?” 

He pretends to think, “No more slacking around.” He says sternly, “This is supposed to be a military base, isn’t it?” He ends on a cheeky note. You gulp. Ah, yes, you might have let it slip that he’s in one of the Resistance’s safe houses, though you did not disclose the coordinates.

“On a mission to make fun illegal, are you?” You ask with a raised brow. 

He frowns, “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Childish, really, though you suppose it is better than arguing with July.

You feel it before you hear it— rain and thunder. The merciless patter on the roof and on your window. In night the sound is almost deafening — a loud roar of an engine, followed by cracks of lightning and flashes in the dark sky. You would have slept through it if not for the pins and needles washing your skin behind the warm sheets thrown on your body. You stir. Thunder roars and a flash of bright white light illuminates your room and seeps through the cracks of your lashes. Cold, again, as if standing in the middle of a storm.

You finally sit up, rubbing your face and then looking around to see if your friends are playing some sort of joke on you. You were almost certain they had dragged you outside and left you to get drenched. But you are alone in your room and you frown and shiver from the biting cold. Groggily you throw the sheets away and leave your bed, not entirely certain where you are going but there is a pull in your gut and half-asleep you follow it. You think you might still be dreaming —the rain on your dry skin feels real, though all dreams feel real until you awake. You leave the dormitories and take the elevator to the first floor. The base is silent, save for the shrill of machinery. Finally, still in your pajamas and almost fully awake, you step past the main entrance and stop.

It’s pouring, a curtain of rain obscuring the confusing contours of trees and leaves and bushes. The darkness does not help. A bleak light pulses to life once you pass the sensor and your surroundings illuminate. Thunder, lighting, more rain. You stand safe and dry under the roof, and he stands at the very edge of it, half soaking, his face kissed and washed by the rain.

You are not sure what to think. He seems lonely standing there surrounded by darkness and water. It’s whispers, or something akin to that, that urge and beseech that he does not want to be alone. You hear them somewhere in the back of your mind. If he noticed you, and he should have with the light suddenly on, he does not show it. You approach him slowly, your footsteps concealed over the heavy drum of rain.

“Not used to it, are you?” You ask, your voice followed by a bolt of thunder. He stirs, head tilting in your direction. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet — there is no hostility in them, no anger, just a distant sadness. You give him a soft smile, “I can tell you don’t see it often. I didn’t, either, at first. I grew up surrounded by deserts and I had not seen a drop of rain for at least eighteen years. But, here… Well, there’s no shortage of it. We have storms at least once a week. You’ll grow sick of it before you leave, trust me.”

He says nothing, still looking at you. The light sniffs out. Both of you stand unmoving.

“Why are you here?” He asks, a note of genuine confusion slipping past his calm tone.

“I… don’t know.” You admit. A frown pulls on your brows and you bite your lower lip, staring into the heavy curtain of rain, “I…I really don’t know.” You turn to him, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, savoring the silence. Then, “I got bored laying in bed.” Somehow you feel that anxiety has more to do with his sudden nightly venture, rather than actual boredom. Though, you suppose it is quite tedious doing nothing all day. You imagine he is active, judging by his built. He has a strong character and he knows what he wants (most of the time), or rather has a distinct sense of what he doesn’t want. You imagine he’d be a good commander, or leader, with his deep voice and unrelenting stare, if only he wasn’t so sensitive. He’s too unpredictable. Too uncontrollable. His emotions get the better of him too quickly for him to be unbiased. For that reason alone you deem him unfit to be a spy, or a soldier, or a figure of military power. He’d burn all he would build if that were the case. No, him being of noble birth and being stranded here as some sort of twisted punishment sounds believable enough.

“What are you thinking?” He questions, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hum, ponder whether you should be honest with him or not. “Don’t lie to me.” He says suddenly and you jolt, heart drumming painfully in your chest. For a frightening moment you figured he could read your mind. Then again, you have been spending a lot of time together. He must have noticed how gentle you are with him, how carefully you pick your words. His signature frown is back, you see it for a second when lightning strikes.

“I was thinking about your life.” You admit, “Your work. Whether you really are a royal as most of my crew mates seem to think.”

Flash. You see half a smile blooming on his lips.

“But I know you won’t tell me. Don’t worry, I get it. Ladies love a mystery.”

“What?”

It’s your turn to grin, “Oh, please, it’s almost all I hear about. Seven brought a brooding stranger with a secret past into the base. Lo…Michel… Two of your rapid admirers. I already told you that your arrival has sparked many speculations.”

“I…I haven’t…” He sounds uncertain, flustered almost, as if embarrassed, but there is no way he is, you refuse to believe it. He stumbles upon his words and lastly says nothing. You snicker silently. Another flash of lightning and you see the same confused, puppy-like look on his face you have had the pleasure of seeing once or twice. He does not shield it this time, this moment of vulnerability. He probably doesn’t see the point because darkness obscures everything again.

You extend your hand to him as a silent offering. How many things have you offered him now? Life, health, your company. He regards it, ponders a bit, lastly gently clasps his hand over yours. You jerk. Electricity courses through you and your eyes go wide, tingles rushing all over your body. Lightning strikes. You see wonder on his face, a mimic of your own surprised expression.

“Come on,” You stutter, tugging him, “you’ll catch a cold.” He follows after you. The light blinks on. You don’t know what is happening. Couldn’t have been the thunder, the feeling is not as intense. It felt more like a build up of energy; like you accidentally touched a circuit and it zapped you.

Impossible, you hear something alike his voice but not quite — it’s quiet, distant, muddy.

“Hm?”

“What?”

Once inside, the door sweeps shut behind you, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” He sounds a bit ticked now, and you decide to drop it.

“Oh,” You mutter, “must’ve imagined it, then.”

His hand is cold in yours and you squeeze it just a bit, hoping he won’t notice and hoping that you will warm it. When you reach the Medical Wing, you tilt your head and say, “Wait here. I’ll get you dry clothes from the storage.”

But as you turn to leave he doesn’t let go, though doesn’t say anything either. He’s choked up — either he doesn’t know how to say it or doesn’t want to say it at all. He doesn’t want to be alone. Those whispers come again, ringing in your ears so quietly you aren’t sure they’re even there. You give him a soft smile, catching his gaze, “Okay, we can go together. You’ll probably stay here for at least another week, so, it’s best you know where the storage is anyway.” There’s no rush in your words, no annoyance, just simple acceptance. It eases him, relieves him of saying and admitting things he’s not willing to bring to light.

The walk is quiet and you still hold hands. His is much bigger than yours, rough, though not unpleasant. They are hands of a man that uses them often — for better, or for worse — and a twinge in your heart, a sudden thud of uncertainty, informs you that your previous speculations might have not been correct at all. His hand doesn’t feel like that of a prince (not that you would know what that would feel like), no, it feels like a hand of a soldier. But that inching of something amiss is swept away by warmth, silent happiness, a certain deliriousness that starts blooming within you and spreading all around. You feel him, somehow; feel a connection. You can’t put it into words exactly, you doubt you could ever explain it to anyone. It’s fragile. And beautiful. And maddening that such a devout emotion is sprung by something as innocent as holding hands

You wonder if he feels it. You somehow know he does.

The storage room is not big. Your hand slips from his as he chooses to stand by the doorway and you rummage to get his things. You feel braver. Perhaps it’s the tiredness that leaves you so open and bold, but searching you can’t help but ask, “So tell me…” You start, handing him some towels, “What were you actually doing? Besides being melodramatic.” You add, your lips quirking upwards.

He regards you with lively eyes and you see a grin lift his cheeks. He’s smiling, actually smiling, and you know this action is precious and rare and you can’t help but beam at him in return, “You think I was being melodramatic?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a breathless bell-like “Yes” falling from your lips as you fetch him dry clothes from the upper shelf, “All you needed was a cape to swing around.”

His expression abruptly falls and the temperature drops with it.

“Right, no cape.” You mumble, a tad disappointed, handing him his clothes.

As you make your way back, you can’t help but saying, “I just thought it would suit you, is all.”

“What else do you think would suit me?”

You raise a brow, trying to keep up with his drastic shift in moods: again, hes smiling, then he’s pensive, now he seems lighthearted, genuinely curious. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You conclude.

He shrugs, “I’m just trying to figure out what you think of me.”

“And why are you curious?”

“Now you are the one asking a lot of questions.” He points out. You snort.

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

This again, followed by quiet chuckles. You don’t turn to the Medical Wing now, instead stopping by the elevator and pressing the red button. The doors slide open. You glance at him.

“So…” You mumble, “This is not how I imagined my night going, but…” You aren’t quite sure how to finish, how to vocalize the strange swirl of emotions in your chest, “Well, goodnight.”

You step into the elevator, going to push the button—“Ben.” He says suddenly, making you flinch and turn to him. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at the floor, “My name. It’s Ben.”

Again, that same energy, that same shock you felt when you first touched his hand ignites your body with something closely akin to happiness. Trust. Bond. He trusts you. The connection you felt was not an exaggeration. He would not have given you his name otherwise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” You say softly, fighting a smile that’s trying to rise on your face, “Sweet dreams.”

“…Goodnight, Seven.”

As the elevator doors shut, you think you hear him say “Thank you”, but that might have just been your imagination.

.

hope you liked it! xxx

.

[libralita]

Title: Dawnshard

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Summary:  Dawnshard follows the story of Rysn, the Thaylen merchant whom we've seen before in the Interludes of the first three books of the Stormlight Archive series.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

DAWNSHARD!

I feel Rysn’s pain. I too find stuff most unimaginably boring interesting.

Oh no, something is wrong with Chiri-Chiri.

“A few anxietyspren, like twisting black cross shapes, appeared around Rysn.”

Huh, interesting.

“She’d already sent a request via spanreed to someone she thought could help with Chiri-Chiri.”

*Narrows eyes* Who?

“her eyebrow jewelry tinkling softly”

Roshar is so weird. (Edit: Understatement of the goddamn decade)

“The king wants to meet this Dalinar Kholin and see these Knights Radiant for himself.”

Man I should have reread these books. Oh well. Goodluck Dalinar.

It’s very interesting that now Navani is Queen of Urithiru. So Dalinar is King? WAIT WE’RE IN URITHIRU! AHHHH!

“She was an intimidating woman with her Alethi height, her black and grey hair done in intricate braids atop her head and woven with glowing sapphires.”

Nah, she’s a mom. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to mother you.

Rysn Ftori. Did we know her last name?

“Finally the queen stopped, focused on the chair at the rear of the room, then pulled her chair over and sat before Rysn. It was a small gesture, but appreciated. Rysn didn’t mind when people remained standing in her presence, but there was a certain thoughtfulness in the way Navani situated herself so they could discuss at eye level with one another.”

As stated, Navani is a mom.

Oh, I think we read about this in Oathbringer.

The Prince of Liafor???

The Rock of Secrets. I see Brandon wasn’t trying too hard with this name.

“As the months had passed, Rysn had begun to truly grasp the strategic importance of Stormlight as a fuel both for fabrials and for the Knights Radiant. Beyond that, the enemy had creatures—known as Fused— who used the Void’s own Light. Chiri-Chiri fed on that just as eagerly as Stormlight.”

Hmmm…yeah…

…………………I kind of ship Lopen and Talik. I don’t know how to feel about this. Brandon is creating some very odd ships this year. (If you haven’t read the RoW previews, trust me, there’s a weird one)

““It’s politics. The annoying kind.”

“There’s another kind?”

 No.

YAY RUSHU IS COMING ALONG!

“She owned it. She commanded it. But at least according to maritime tradition, it was not hers”

This reminds me of how Navani sees herself as not an artifabian (I’m not even going to bother look up the correct spelling for this)

“Radiant the Lopen”

PFFFFFFFFFFFT

““Lopen,” Rushu said as she worked, “you should not be tormenting Brightness Rysn with your prattling.””

Rushu! How dare you question the Lopen!!

““Brightness Rysn shouldn’t have to crack jokes at her own expense in order to make other people comfortable with their personal insecurities.”

“Yup, true,” the Lopen said. “She shouldn’t have to.””

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“Two halves of a ruby, containing two halves of the same spren, can be made to move in tandem with one another”

…TWO HALVES OF THE SAME SPREN. PARDON?!?!!

I’m assuming that if you can get a ship to move fast enough then a spanreed will work. Much like Brandon has said that time bubbles can work at a certain speed. Plus y’know, Roshar is constantly moving, we just don’t feel it.

“It’s why the motion and curve of the planet don’t influence spanreeds.”

Or y’know, I’ll just be fucking WRONG.

“That  .  .  . didn’t make much sense to Rysn.”

Same.

I’m guessing that Nikli is a worldhopper. From where though? I don’t really trust Nikli right now though. Hmmm.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NIKLI IS ONE OF THOSE CREMLING THINGS NONONONONONONONONONONONOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WHAT MEAN YOU ONE OF THESE…SWARMS KNOWS DALINAR “I know he will destroy us”

From the dustjacket of Way of Kings:

“The last is the highprince, a warlord whose eyes have opened to the past as his thirst for battle wanes.

The world can change. Surgebinding and Shardwielding can return; the magics of ancient days can become ours again. These four people are key.

One of them may redeem us.

And one of them will destroy us.”

So Dalinar will Destroy the Sleepless.

“Plus, Yelamaiszin said, we should have compassion for those we must cull. It is good you like the humans.

Must we cull them though? Nikli replied.”

Oh, the Sleepless gotta cull humans. Fucking great. AHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Is it just required that every single novella is going to have these fuckers in them?

“When the swarm that had become Nikli had been Separated, it had already contained hordelings evolved for this subterfuge. Nikli had further evolved them, and was now certain that the body didn’t need the tattoos to cover the seams in its skin”

Wat.

Also who’s Arclomedarian? Now I need to go reread Edgedancer to see who that guy was. Oh? Who are the true traitors? It’s probably Hoid.

“where they would either fall to the winds or enter the realm of the Sleepless.”

Man, if I was on that ship, I’d take drowning over finding that. Let’s notttttt.

“This was sent to another vote, and Nikli’s bodies— the distant ones, not on the ship—all vibrated with anticipation.”

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“Can block a Shardblade, Rua tells me, if it’s thick enough. They get it from Soulcasting, though only a few can make it, so it’s pretty rare”

Y…you can soulcast aluminium? Holy fuck.

No Lopen! You belong with Talik. He can capture that Tsundere heart.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?

As someone who has read Mistborn, you don’t want a dramatic end of the world. It causes essential crisis.

“More spren than animal, they were somehow able to magnify peace and confidence.”

Like…rioting?

““No,” several voices said from the crowd—but she couldn’t see who. “That’s bad luck!””

Nikla…

“Storms. It was as if . . . as if the body had been made up of cremlings.”

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“no more real than things like the gloomdancer or sea hags from Thaylen mythology”

Well, I’m sure these things don’t exist.

“Hmmm? Oh, no I was napping during that.”

I do love Rushu.

So…Huio…created…flying machines. Motherfucker.

I can’t believe Roshar has hove chair before cars. Also HOVER BRIDGES LET’S GOOOOOOOOO.

Nikli…what are you doing?

Rushu is a soulcaster! Wild.

“Regardless, I demanded that Navani send me with either a Shardblade or a Soulcaster to get through.”

You fucking what mate?

“Strange, to think how optimistic she’d been only a short time ago.”

That tends to happen with Brando Sando books. One moment the characters are on top of the world and next everything is crashing down.

The sun being shattered into pieces? Well that can’t be good.

“She counted the shards in her mind, over and over, feeling a reverence to the number.”

Ten or sixteen?

“It looked vaguely like an enormous grub with a wicked beak of a face. It had spindly arms running all the way along its body, and had reared up so it was mostly vertical, using its pointed limbs like spears to try to skewer the sailors beneath.”

Again. Roshar. Fuck off.

“The Mother of Machines,”

Thirty emerald broams says the back of the book has something about the Mother of Machines on it.

“I . . . have no idea what any of that means,”

Me reading half of this book.

“And in truth, those treaties were made with other gods. I had hoped the Gods Who Sleep Not would be similarly bound, but now I am not certain.”

OTHER GODS? WHICH ONES?!

GOOD JOB HUIO!!!

“We wish to avoid losing control of a force that could destroy the cosmere.”

Odium? Just don’t let any love struck teenagers near it and you’ll be fine.

“As I and my kind are not native to this planet, we prefer the term ‘hordelings.’”

W…Where are you from?

This reminds me of Skyward.

I am sure that Rysn will not be able to employ it. How many books do we have left?

“And then eventually, they were used to undo Adonalsium itself. . . .”

YOU FUCKING WHAT?!

Rysn, you’re going to get a visit from an asshole. Be prepared and good luck.

I can’t for Arc 2 where we get so BIG CHIRI-CHIRI.

Interesting so Rysn will never become a Radiant.

“Regrettably, there has been a conflict on the beach with some of our more  .  .  . specialized hordelings,”

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“You have Remade yourself.”

Remade? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Oh no. Lopen noooooooooooooo.

Who needs a Hover chair when YOU CAN RIDE A CRAB DRAGON! SUCKING ALL THE STORMLIGHT! WIELDING THE DAWNSHARD!

“Was it . . . brighter than usual? Why did the colors in her room look so exceptionally vivid all of a sudden?”

Idos Domi! What heightening are you?

I was not expecting this. My thoughts are currently just on the floor, screaming. Brandon, you cannot just drop lore on me like this.