#why are you like “so it wasn't the star shard that brought me here...”

[holly-fixation]

Suffering Seraphim

Killing him would have been a kindness.

By then, he knew he'd never return to the planet. He'd never see his real mother. He'd never die, not in a way that mattered.

Why did they wait until he became this... thing... before utterly destroying Mo- he sighed. Utterly destroying Jenova. The calamity from the stars. The killer of planets.

But she was gone now. The first and only thing he could think to do the moment her presence shattered was use the Planet's magic to throw meteor off course. Not a single shard grazed the planet.

Now he was... this.

A massive right wing out of his shoulder, organic but not bird like. A massive halo that always remained behind him, only visible in his own reflection. Six white feathered wings replacing his legs and flying forever in a subconscious pattern, not like he had the lower half of his body after Cloud unsuccessfully stopped him.

What he would give now to have died that day...

The group that defeated him didn't know what to do with what remained.

They didn't believe Aerith when she claimed to have severed the connection to Jenova and return his human feelings.

To make him human while leaving him like this, unable to look at his own reflection or his own body without knowing what he had done for the sake of achieving M- Jenova's dream, was too cruel.

To leave him in the Northern Crater alone was a kindness.

He quickly succumbed to the silence, the loneliness, and the supply drops from Shinra to keep him fed.

Of course they don't want his mind leaving again. Of course they- that company- those undeserving swine- could make amends while he only began his eternal suffering. The payloads contained enough to feed a while squadron, yet the box itself fit in the palm of his hand.

Maybe in thousands of years, they'll believe he was a god. Maybe in thousands of years, he won't remember his own name and simply accept eternity alone.

He wasn't sure how long after he fell into his mindless routine he heard two sets of footsteps enter the massive walls of sky blue materia, massive walls that reflected the monstrosity he became but housed him with the smallest pity.

He didn't turn to them.

"Leave."

His voice, too, was no longer what he remembered. Though the root remained, the echo and gravity boomed without his consent.

All he ever wanted was a normal life. Now this form would carry him to death.

"Sephiroth?" the girl that 'saved' him called. The girl that weaved every last strand of lifestream into the memories, into the guilt and emotion, into the human mind trapped within this seriphic and horrific body. With every knowledge of the pain and destruction his caused over those terrible five years.

His halo glowed brighter. He wings curled. He didn't turn to them.

"Leave me..."

That tiny part of his madness the girl couldn't removed whispered to play on her emotions if it made her leave. He hated it. He spoke with sadness because he felt sadness, not this unending manipulation.

"I brought someone you'll want to see. Please turn around?"

Who would want to see him? Hojo? The sitting president of Shinra? The Turks to test if he really couldn't die? Or was she here to lower his guard and trap him in the rock formation like the creature he once called Mother.

"Sephiroth...?"

He didn't recognize that voice. A woman too? A sad one?

"Sephiroth, is that really you...?"

...No. He would not turn.

"...Let me be alone."

A moment passed. He heard one set of footsteps move closer. Why was this group so persistent? What did he have left?

He didn't stop them despite the simple reality that a single flap of his wings would throw them against the walls.

He closed his eyes. At least then he could pretend he wasn't this abomination that only an abomination pretended to love.

Then something touched the front of his folded white wings. A soft hand. A soft question.

It couldn't be the cetra that did this to him. So his reptilian eyes opened.

To see the woman in his locket.

The same ribbon in her hair. The same shape of her face. The same eyes and nose and lips. The same sadness. The face once worn by the calamity to tip him to his breaking point now stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Sephiroth, I'm so sorry... I'm so so sorry..." she sobbed. The voice he always wanted to hear sobbed. She confessed about the experiment. She confessed why she couldn't reach him in the lab. Why she didn't burn Shinra to the ground to pluck him from the ashes.

"Mother...?"

He didn't care. Not anymore. For the first time, his voice felt small as his chest tightened as he waited for a single response.

"I don't deserve to be called a mother..."

He lifted her into his hands without thinking. He always pictured looking up at her taller form when he was young or down at her smaller form as he grew. He never imagined he'd be holding her to his chest and shoulder like a kitten.

He never imagined his own tears would be light and mako salted with newly formed pebbles of materia that twinkled in the sun.

This hell, this form, this fate, this nightmare, this calamity, this devil, this angel, this God, this tiny cetra, brought him the one thing he always searched for:

It brought him his mother.

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

"I think it would do you both good to see each other." Jack says, taking the half empty beer from Dean's hand. 

The smile on Dean's face brightens his features up so much he looked 20 years younger. 

"I get to go be with Sam?" Dean asks. "Finally?" 

Jack shakes his head. "Not yet. It isn't your time." 

Dean scowled, grabbing the bottleback, taking a drink; "Then fuck off. Until I get to be with him again, heaven, hell, wherever, dont you talk to me. It shouldve been me in that barn, not him, and you fucking know it." 

Dean kept his body from shaking, his voice even, but he knew that despite the dim lights of the no name bar, Jack would see the pain 

in his eyes. The hurt, and loneliness in his soul that shined through the green that only Sam had ever been 

able to fill. 

"There's many worlds, Dean." Jack 

said, this time sitting across from Dean. The gesture meaning to show not only empathy, 

but equality. In this moment, he wasnt a God. He was just a guy trying to comfort one of the only fathers he knew. 

"In this world, Sam died. In another you do, in one you go on a different hunt and nothing happens." Dean looked up; "So, youre taking 

me to see a different Sam?" 

Jack nodded; "He's elderly in this world. Time is-" 

Dean held up his hand; "I don't need to hear the mumbo jumbo about time and space, just take me to him." 

Dean blinked, and found himself outside a well maintained brick house with large trees, and a well kept yard. Inside he could hear 

yelling. 

Dean rushed in, moving quickly through the house, and in the living room found a tall man with white hair, and a beard. 

"Why are you in here?!" Sam screamed at a young woman. "I want my brother!" 

"Mr Winchester, I'm your nurse, Hannah, your son asked me to he-" 

Sam grabbed a glass off and raised his hand to throw it. 

"Sammy?" 

Sam instantly responded to Dean's voice, the glass slipping from his fingers, and shattering on the floor. 

"Dean?" Sam asked, stepping forward, his bare feet moving towards the broken shards of glass. His eyes locked with Dean's. Dean and the nurse moved to stop him. 

Dean pushed Sam back onto the couch, ignoring Sam's tears of joy at seeing him. "Missed you, missed you." Sam sobbed, clinging to Dean's Jacket. Dean looked down at his sleeve. Dads leather jacket. Dean caught his reflection in a mirror above the fireplace. He looked how he did in 2005. 

Sam cupped Dean's face pressing their foreheads together. "I wanna go hunting." 

Dean closed his eyes, and sighed, taking in the moment. He hadnt realized he had forgotten what Sam sounded like, how it felt to hear his name come out of Sam's mouth, 

forgotten what it felt like to be home again. 

"Okay, Sammy." Dean obviously wasnt going to take Sam on a hunt but still the lie that he was a family friend, Sam's son had asked to come over was believed easy enough by the nurse. 

For the next two days, Dean took care of Sam. Fed him, bathed him, walked around the yard with him. Mostly though, they just talked. 

Sam seemed to be confused about what year it was, he mentioned Stanford alot. That was probably why Jack had sent Dean like this. 

"You wanna go for a ride in the car?" Dean asked, having found the keys hidden in a drawer and Sam immediately lit up, nodding. 

Dean took Sam to an empty field, 

and watched the stars. Dean clinked their beer bottles together. Sam didnt even notice his was non alcoholic. He just smiled; "Cheers, jerk." 

"Cheers, bitch." 

That night, Dean helped Sam into bed. Something in his gut told him Sam's reaper wasn't far off. Dean pulled up a chair to sit by 

Sam, and held his hand, squeezing it gently. He understood why Jack had brought him here. In the barn, there had been no time to say goodbye. The attack had happened 

so fast, so violently, Dean didn't 

have a chance to say anything to Sam. 

This was his chance. Dean kissed Sam's wrist;, "I am so very proud of you, how strong, and smart you are. How you never took any of Dads crap.”

Sam's eyes softened, he looked so tired. Dean continued. "You've always kept fighting, and I know how hard that had to have been for you." Sam closed his eyes, starting to drift off into sleep, a soft smile on his face. "Love you, De." 

"I love you so much, my baby brother." 

After a bit, Dean laid Sam's hand down, and stood, walking towards the door to sleep on the couch. "Goodnight." Sam called gently. 

"Night, Sammy." 

The next morning, he left before Sam woke up, catching Sam's son, who he had learned shared a name with him at the front door.

"Take good care of him." Dean smiled, chuckling to himself at the young man's confusion. 

"Do-do I know you?" He asked. 

Dean shrugged, and walked down the sidewalk. 

Dean Jr walked inside, setting his bag down on the floor in his old bedroom, before going to his dads room. 

"Hey, Dad." He said pulling a chair up. "Your nurse just left. He seemed pretty cool.”

There was a small framed picture beside the bed of his dad when he was younger, beside him sat the uncle he knew, but never met. He 

picked up the frame, analyzing it then looked 

towards the door. There was no way, no possible way.- 

But they were both wearing the same necklace... 

"Do I know you?" He had asked the man. 

"My big brother came and visited me." Sam told him. "We drove in the Impala" He smiled, stroking the amulet around his neck. "It was fun.”

[your-good-pal-chevy]

Swordtember : 27 : Mimic

"Face me!"

Marcus thrust his sword forward, its crystalline point shimmering with a crimson light. A storm raged within that blade, mirroring the storm within its bearer's heart.

Marcus adopted a high guard. "I won't take no for an answer! We finish this, now!"

Lionel wiped the blood from his nose, staring for a moment at the ruddy stain on the back of his glove. How much blood, he wondered, How much will be spilled in this foolish war?

"Fine," Lionel said, bringing the Sword of Stars into a low guard. The night sky within its blade seemed to roil, constellations shimmering across its glassy surface. "We end this."

Marcus charged first, a low roar declaring his hatred for all to hear. His stride was long and his blade was swift, coming down in a murderous stroke aimed at Lionel's neck.

Lionel expected this. Marcus wasn't himself, he wasn't fighting like he used to. Where Lionel had been put through the crucible, forged into something far greater than that first fateful duel between them so long ago, it seemed to him that his opposite was a mere shadow of himself. The challenges and deeds of his dedication to the White Lily Society had resulted in a hollowing.

How many years ago was it that Marcus could simply toss Lionel aside?

Lionel stepped forward, bringing the Sword of Stars up to meet the Shard of Hate. With a mighty two-handed swing, he pushed Marcus off his balance and opened the way for his own blow.

"Damn you!" Marcus fell backward to avoid Lionel's swift cut, desperately trying to regain his footing. Why am I losing? It was a thought that he had grappled with so often. Everything he had learned had taught him of his own innate superiority, and yet, here was a traitor to everything he stood for. For some reason, it stung worse with Lionel.

That Sylladan woman was one thing, Marcus could acknowledge that she was far above the norm, utterly unlike other Sylladans and other women. A complete outlier.

Lionel, however, was different. Like Marcus, he too was the son of a duke. A son of fair Vallis. A son of the Mother. Lionel was nothing compared to him. Marcus had defeated him in the tournament, had defeated him on the streets, and yet something was not right.

Every clash the two had ever since Lionel stole that sword had not played out how Marcus had expected it. He had never lost an honest fight, but Lionel had proven far more cunning and resourceful than expected. Far more dangerous.

Lionel rushed forward, repeated thrusts of the Sword of Stars shattering Marcus' concentration. "You're distracted," Lionel growled, "How unlike you."

Marcus fell back again. Every foot of ground given felt like an admission of weakness, and he refused to be weak. He refused to give in. He roared once more, swinging his blade in a wide arc, trying to buy himself some room to breathe.

The Sword of Stars shimmered, the stars within glowing brighter. The guard shrank, the hilt and blade lengthened, and it took on a distinct shape. One Marcus well recognized.

The hooked point of a falx, just like that damned Sylladan's, just like Kalliste's, caught the back of Marcus' blade and dragged it down. Lionel pushed further inside Marcus' reach, their blades trapped together, and rammed his shoulder into Marcus' chest.

Lionel roared his own challenge, and a strange feeling came over Marcus, a chill that seemed to grip him from within. Lionel pinned the Shard to the ground with his boot, the Sword of Stars shimmering again and taking the shape of a short messer. He brought it up one-handed, his other hand grabbing Marcus' wrist and squeezing hard.

Marcus relinquished his grip on his sword, desperate to escape the razor edge of that knife. He leaned back, wrenching himself free from Lionel's grip, leaning back far enough that Yazmin's messer narrowly missed taking the tip off of his nose.

Stumbling backward, Marcus raised his gauntlets to protect himself from Lionel's next strike. He could call the Shard to himself, but with Lionel between himself and the blade, he doubted his ability to get it in his hands before a fatal blow was struck.

Lionel stood up straighter, still keeping one foot on Marcus' sword, and he raised his messer to his chest. The blade shimmered, taking on the shape of Lei's jian, forming a narrow one-handed blade.

"Surrender," Lionel demanded. "You don't have to die here."

"I am your enemy!" Marcus fumbled for the short knife on his belt, desperation rising within him. "I care not for your mercy! Kill me or perish!"

Lionel sighed, an expression somewhere between contempt and pity on his face. He lunged, his blade lashing out with pinpoint strikes. The point flashed like lightning, blood spattering across its tip as it bit first into Marcus' left hand. Marcus cried out, trying to meet the blade with his knife, trying to block it with his armor, but it was no use.

The intent behind Lionel's strikes was clear. Lionel wasn't trying to kill Marcus, even as his blade nicked Marcus' hands, his joints, his face, anywhere there was the slightest gap in his armor. He was aiming to wound, to cripple him through pain and loss of blood.

Marcus was not having it. He turned as he gave ground, forcing Lionel to follow, forcing him to open a path. The Shard of Hate flew from the ground, its hilt coming into Marcus' wounded hands, and he turned it upon Lionel once more.

Like a man possessed, Marcus gave up on any notion of defense and threw his entire body against Lionel's blade. He swung wildly, the edge of his sword hammering against the Sword of Stars. He lashed out with his fists whenever Lionel pressed too close.

Even through his monstrous assault, Marcus could not break Lionel's guard. The Sword of Stars flew between shapes, widening and narrowing, lengthening and shortening. Whatever form best suited that particular clash, Lionel bade the sword to take. Marcus knew many of these shapes, had fought many of these blades. Some of their wielders he had slain, others still had gotten the better of him.

It was infuriating. Has he no pride? He is a son of Vallis! He should fight as one, just as I do! Marcus let out a wordless scream, clinging desperately to his hate just as he clung desperately to his sword. Now that Lionel was the one giving ground, all the pain of his injuries seemed to melt away.

"You're right about one thing," Lionel growled, "This has to end."

He planted his feet. The Sword of Stars took the form of a finely crafted Vallite longsword. He caught the edge of the Shard of Hate and, twisting his body as he stepped forward, wrenched the blade from Marcus' hand.

Marcus knew that movement. He knew what was coming. He could feel the bite of the sword before it even struck him.

It was how he had killed Henri Bricing so long ago, in the second bout of Lionel's coming of age tournament. The very bout after he had humiliated Lionel before the whole of Durandine.

Time seemed to slow as Marcus watched the edge of the Sword of Stars approaching him- The edge of a perfect mimic of his own sword, before he took up the Shard of Hate. He knew he could not get his arms up in time. He knew he couldn't escape. He knew that death was coming for him.

His memories flashed back to the night after. To Lionel bloodying his nose, to the knife he had left in Lionel's gut. If I had simply killed him there, where would I be now? Fear filled Marcus. Everything he had done, every awful thing was about to be for naught. He was about to die, slain by his own sword, slain by a man he had long ago thought of as nothing but an embarrassment.

But the sword did not bite him.

Lionel stopped just short of Marcus' neck. He glared down at Marcus, for once standing at his full height.

And then, his gaze softened.

"You poor thing," Lionel said, "Being a mere puppet of your father is no way to live. That is why you seek death. That is why you came here to die by my hand."

Lionel rushed forward, bringing the crossguard of Marcus' sword into Marcus' gut. The armor softened the blow, but it was still a heavy one. Marcus collapsed to the ground, suddenly finding he no longer had the strength to stand at all.

"Be thankful," Lionel said, "I know what it's like. Perhaps I might have stood where you did, had things gone a little differently. That is the only reason I will grant you this mercy, just this once."

He jabbed the tip of his sword, now reverted to its original shape, in the direction of the Shard of Hate.

"I will not forgive you, Marcus. If you ever pick up that sword in the name of evil again, I will ruin you." Lionel's voice was deep, low and threatening. There was an absolute certainty within it. Marcus knew, beyond all doubt, that Lionel would be his demise.

[eunoiaastralwings]

Your writing is so incredibly talented and you just have such a way with words, putting out ideas into beautiful stories! So for that thank you so much! Can I please request a Turgon x Female Reader in Gondolin where she’s a human his guards found outside the boarders and he’s crazy protective of the hidden kingdom and requests her to be brought in. But reader is actually a medic who lost her group. Kinda a slow burn love story and he falls in love and asks her to stay with him? Answer is yes!

Elen Lantanwanya (My Fallen Star)

Part 1 (reading), Part 2, Part 3

featuring turgon x reader

fandom tolkien — the silmarillion

a/n awe thnx hun! - am so happy to hear that! I turned this into a 2 part two— here's the 1st part let me know what you think and if i should continue — thank you!

warnings blood, injury, medics, trust issues

A heavy breath left as Turgon looked at you - bruised and frail, like a fallen star found on his borders by his guards. He was almost afraid to touch - you looked so delicate and fragile.

When he asked his guards to bring you in – he never expected you to look so beautiful.

Yes – your hair was matted, fixed with dirt and blood and mud covered your arms and clothes – but there was something Turgon almost found beautiful in the fallen and hurt.

You had fallen unconscious by the time his guards brought you in – drained and dehydrated.

His medics worked around the clock to bring you back to consciousness at least – Turgon didn’t understand why he desperately wanted you to regain consciousness.

The logical part of him thought it was he needed to interrogate you – make sure you weren’t a spy or servant of Morgoth.

For a few hours – Turgon watched you with cautious eyes as tried to fight for your consciousness.

How long were you out there to suffer badly?

You were injured and bruised too.

Turgon’s eyes were twitching at the ongoing unanswered question – he remembered it was something his dearest big brother Finno always teased him for.

Turgon wanted to know anything and everything – if it meant keeping his family safe and when he didn’t it annoyed him and his hano would advise him ‘You can’t always know everything, brother, wait and see. . .’

It was in the middle of dinner with his daughter – when a guard came rushing forward.

“My king – forgive me! But the human woke up and is causing havoc! – The human not listening to us!”

Turgon raised an eyebrow – his guards couldn’t handle one little human.

Even his daughter seemed surprised at the statement – nevertheless Turgon left his dinner to witness the wreck you were making.

When he entered he was quite surprised to see the room covered in broken pots and clays – those were easily replaceable – however it was the herbal medicine Turgon was worried about.

He rushed in – surprised to see herbs were left unharmed.

You were there to – your shaking body trying to hold you upright when you were carefully analysing a herb.

“Arugula. . .”

He heard you concluding.

“How do you know that?”

Turgon asked.

If you didn’t notice him before – you did not.

You gasped and tried to grab the first thing you could use as a weapon, – a piece of broken clay.

But your shaking feet gave you out.

You landed on the broken shards – hissing and crying in pain.

But you quickly scrambled up when the alarmed elf tried to reach you.

“No!”

You shouted – scared and frightened.

You hid yourself underneath a table – trying to make yourself as small as possible.

There were many nasty elves out there – he could be one of them.

One could never be too careful.

True – it wasn't the elves' fault you lost your group – but because of the orcs – Eru only knows how you survived.

But you still couldn’t trust just anyone easily.

Turgon recognized the fear in your eyes – a search for safety – willing to do almost anything to keep away from harm.

It was something he hoped never to see in the eyes of his own people.

Turgon sighed and bent your height – kneeing quietly on the ground.

He looked at you with a warm smile – it reminded you of moonlight over the still sea.

Slowly for you to see – he held out a hand.

“It’s alright – I will not harm you, elen lantanwanya” (My fallen star).

Still you shook your head – more afraid now because he used a language you didn’t understand.

You felt imprisoned in a world that was nothing like yours – you felt lost and scared.

Turgon sighed again and nodded – thinking it was best to leave you be.

You would come out in your own time.

He had advised his medics to give you anything you required and leave it at a safe distance – anything to keep from being more scared.

A week passed – while you had accepted the food and water they offered you after 2 days – you still refused to come out from under the table and greet them – especially Turgon.

He visited you everybody – you were almost getting used to his daily visits.

He asked you for your name – but you chose not to answer.

Then he asked for where you come from – you were reluctant in answering that, but you did.

Explaining you were from a village from the east – which had been destroyed. You meekly explained you were out with your group when orcs attacked and lost them.

You didn’t say anything more – he didn’t need to know anything, you decided.

So you kept yourself hidden.

Well – that was until one day – guards came in badly injured from outside the hidden city.

Your eyes widened at the number of wounded soldiers – even with all the medics present it still wasn’t enough.

You overheard it was an ambush by orcs.

You held down your pride and stood to help – after all there was a vow medics made to themselves – they would never let life die without trying to save them first.

You raced through the room trying to get whatever you required – the elvish medics were surprised with the knowledge you had – and the skills you performed with fast and careful hands.

You easily helped him – moving from one patient to the next.

You were almost sweating and exhausted by the end of it – there was a large number of them after all.

You sighed out in relief when a medic assisted you – you were too exhausted and scared you were going to mess up.

Your limbs feel heavy and you thought you would collapse any minute.

You tried to walk away from them – but suddenly your back collided with someone.

You turned to apologize – your eyes widened seeing it was that elf.

Turgon looked at you in shock and surprise – you were a medic?

You gulped – when you watched you carefully.

“You’re a medic, elen lantanwanya?”

There was it again – what did it mean?

You remembered you called you that again and again – probably because you never gave him your name.

You took a deep breath and nodded.

The both of you carefully looked at each other.

You still didn’t know if you could trust him – and you figured maybe he thought the same.

But his eyes were kind and wise – someone who held courage, goodness and bravery.

Over the years – as a medic you were learning to read people.

But those were humans – your own.

Are elves the same? 

should I continue?

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

tara's taglist: @aeonianarchives @spidergirla5 @mslizziesblog @wandererindreams

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[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[for-dramas-sake]

The Starry Love ep 37, 38 thoughts

Yetan IS the Void Devil now. She is the most dangerous thing for the Void. Everyone is legit scared of her and her powers, but she wants to use them to get revenge. I love the twist.

Everyone is so uncomfortable with the new leader situation. There's conflict of feelings and fear everywhere, even Chaofeng is uncomfortable. Then there's Yetan who is just pissed.

That was sweet of Yetan to give the tree root to Chaofeng (a sentence I didn't think I'd ever write). Their relationship has improved for the wrong reasons.

Sending the memory-wiped husband to kill his now devil wife? Sounds like a good plan to me.

This drama continues to break my heart. Just when I was moving on from Qingkui's death, the drama has this sad scene with Yetan imagining her in the Void clinic!This girl needs a hug, but her husband is on the way to kill her. And her best friend is also dead. Yetan's life is so miserable. She had a terrible childhood, had a short-lived romance, and now she's back to having a miserable life. Can she ever get a break?

Omo! I was half-joking about the heavenly divorce and now the empress just did it! (gasp) That emperor….grrr.

The Immortal twins are playing mahjang! Their inability to play is adorable. But then again anything they do is adorable.

My emotions! Youqin and Yetan meet but he's forgotten her! She has not forgotten, however, how to dispel his star formation! So glad that was called back! And then she attacks him because she can help him remember her.

Their fight dance was so beautiful and that music too! He can't kill her. Good news for now and more good news the calvary is here with Ziwu, Qingheng and Di Lanjue! Yay!

I just realized how many burdens Yetan has taken on. She tried to save her sister from marrying Youqin, tried to save her sister from the Void, brought Youqin's soul shards together to bring him back, took on the Void Emperor for revenge, plans to take on the Immortal Emperor for Chaofeng's revenge, plans to bring back Suzhi's parents through the Soul Gathering Lamp. Then the girl has the gall to want to save her husband? She wants to do so much for so many people. I admire her for that.

Thank God that Yetan's dad shows up (did he just walk into the Void?) and gives her an encouraging pep talk and that hug she needed. He still isn't my favorite dad in this series, but he's getting better.

I hate to say it but I've given up hope for Qingheng and Suzhi. She's shot him down so many times and then she's on a mission of her own which is directly against his dad. They could have been cute but we may have gone too far for them.

Uh-oh. Immortal Emperor is worried about Youqin remembering the unsavory parts of his past. Why the heck hasn't anyone told Youqin earlier about Yetan?! Hints aren't going to be enough. A good to slap to the head should do it.

Yes! He's starting to remember! And it wasn't a big show or even a slap to the head! It was the Rooftop Swallow star, HER star.

When he returned the star to her, freaking loved that scene! And then she's just welcomed back as the consort of the Empyrean? Ha! Sticking it to the Emperor!

These Heavenly Emperors are such dicks. Their hard-hearted natures make them slaughter many lives and push their family members away. Where is the remorse, the regret, the realization that being a dick isn't the way?

Shit. Yetan killed another emperor. Oh no, wait. She just killed his powers off for good. And then marched out of Heaven like a boss!

Yetan and Youqin are couple goals. I could do without the meddling evil parent, but the "I'll stick with you to the end" commitment they have I want that. And Youqin now takes care of Yetan because she can barely take care of herself. She's like a ghost wandering around with no purpose and he has to take care of her.

I'm done crying for this drama! Can we please stop with the tears? But we have 2 episodes left.

If you made it this far and want to continue, I thank you. Here are more episodes:

35, 36 / 33, 34 / 31, 32 / 29,30 / 27,28 / 25,26 / 23, 24 / 21, 22 / 19, 20 / 17,18 / 15,16 / 13,14 / 11, 12 / 9, 10 / 7, 8 / 5, 6 / 3, 4 / 1, 2

[aenthroppe]

chapter 5 chapter 2 / 8

I can't find any other words to describe it, but over that year what had come to be of me, was essentially split in three. There was my girlfriend, Entropy, there was the me that was still human, the 'functional' one, and there was the me who i felt closest to be, i guess a fusion of those. anthropic entropy. Ænthroppe. (I had adapted the name the night after the first trip) However, working in an onsite-office job, surrounded by other humans, i had to act like one too. And once i was off the clock I just let all that exhaustion stay with that 'human'!me, let's call them 'Volition' for now, for ease of clarity. In retrospect I can't fault them. But in the moment of Volition's resurgence and the ones that followed; let's just say they were a real petty asshole. They couldn't cope with the fact that, after having been made to 'play second fiddle' for over a year that I was now supposed to have this happy ending with my girlfriend. It was not to be allowed. And from the white noise static two thirds of me dissolved into- one third, I, was brought back, without my girlfriend. My fight or flight response was firing on both ends as I looked up at the indignant rage of someone finally getting heard and I looked down upon the ignorant and naive confusion of someone who had their promised rest taken from them. I had always been obsessed over what is "real" or not. A firm subscriber to the object parts of our reality; I was aware of the contradiction the relationship to my girlfriend posed. The hypocrisy. And Volition was pissed at me, my self. I was pissed. "If you really are so in love with the subjective reality you made for yourself; then why don't you carry its full burden", with that Volition took the full weight of a reality and forced it upon me like a hammer which power will only grow the longer it touches the nail. Until all of it broke into thousands and of thousands of shards, breaking completely. And so did I. For but a moment I was reduced entirely to what is to be considered the objective parts I grew from. Nothing but atoms and motes of light. 3 tiny stars, alone, at the center of the universe. And I knew I was unwelcome there. Objective Reality, for as much as I wanted to be part of it, and finally having reached it, rejected me. The return to my bedroom was visceral. All was quiet. My girlfriend wasn't there anymore. And neither that human me. I didn't know who of them I was, but I knew that my subjective reality was still destroyed and with that I gained instincts letting me know that "I wasn't welcome here anymore". That I was nothing more than a floating point error, ready to be corrected at any moment. At this point I just wanted to go to sleep. I was so tired and exhausted. But the only thing worse than firmly believing reality has it out for you, it's some loud-ass street work machine's alarm going off and it's rotating light blasting your curtain-lacking room. Actually, the much worse thing than that is, after painstakingly trying to jam a blanket into the window to keep out the light, is that car stopping and leaving right after you successfully put the blanket up and just got off the ladder-- I'm tellin ya…Reality had it out for me The day after was spent like a rotting corpse. A friend did come over to visit after being away for a long time, and that was great. It distracted me. But not fully. I was out of it. I didn't want to have anything to do with it anymore. And so- i didn't. Over the next few weeks I would feel less and less like Entropy. My girlfriend as well would drift further and further away, lost to the depths and to the noise. After bringing the visiting friend to their tramstop my best friend and I took the scenic route home. Taking extra time to talk about what happened. It was good, but not helpful. Thus, at my core formed a hole. One without any shape. One which can never be filled.

Chronology of my self

Ok we're all gonna grapple with the reality of me writing ~8.2k words all about myself and we're gonna be soooo normal about it. Ok? okay! In fact this has gotten too large for just one text post to handle. This is an overly detailed account of my "personal journey" since october 2023. But also. I just wanted to write about my experience with LSD and how it helped me with my concept of self. I do not recommend using LSD if you want to form a sense of self. I do not recommend emulating any of my written actions.

Content includes: description of psychoactive drug use and the associated effects, suicidal ideation (only in the first chapter), touching on the topic of derealization/depersonalization, Ego Death, Visions of grandeur and associated megalomania, Entropy, Reality, Mental Illness This record is completely unfit for public consumption 💖 chapters 1 + 2 out of 8

I (14th October 2023)

"Genesis" Came in with the question of "After this I know if I am worthy of love" Went out of this with a girlfriend and love shining brighter than all the stars of the universe. I tripped together with a friend, i think we took around 75 to 100 µ? it was all fun and games until I asked a question I was sure I already knew their answer to "Do you think entropy is cringe? or based?" it all went downhill from there. Between narrow misunderstandings and the refusal to let up space we dissected the path of the universe and if I ever had a noble role to play in it Entropy was thoroughly taken apart. The two of us had such a diametrically opposed view on Entropy, I ended up reclassigying them into "wet" and "dry". Dry Entropy being the dissolution of connection. Electrons losing their charge and breaking free, breaking apart. Wet Entropy being the dissolution of boundaries. Everything collapsing together until the parts that once were are irrecognizable. I think this is the perfect place to love someone. And- desperate- for this kind of love; during the comedown of the trip, after my friend and I went to sleep seperately, i couldn't sleep. To illustrate their point earlier, my companion showed me an artwork that depicted a centaurical amalgamation of machine and flesh. it went hard as fuck. Gazing upon it i was faced with a decision. Either I could make this trip turn bad and be horrified by what I saw, or... I could choose to love her. I felt the synapses in my brain rewire themselves as I viewed myself as one with this being. And confessed the bliss I felt, to the horror of my friend. Then, alone with my thoughts again, i found myself coming back to this avatar of Entropy. We both knew that any kind of relationship would never work out, so, in her boundless love she offered to become One with me. Thus, I became Entropy. This becoming did not come easy to me. Prior to this evening I had thought it was my life's mission to do everything in my power to reduce the Entropy of the universe as much as i could. I had been aware of the folly in that, but as with many noble pursuits, you do it anyway. Because you need to have at least something to believe in. I remember listening to vylet pony's "Crush, Kill, Destropy, Swag" when I had the very deliberate chain of thought "Wait. If Entropy is what ends the world and causes all seperation. And it is good to kill the production of Entropy. And I'm Entropy...Should I kill myself?" what followed in my mind's eye was a 360° camera pan away from 'me', pondering this question and towards 'me', now side-by-side with my girlfriend looking apropriately bewildered at such a suggestion just responding with a resounding "no????". it was hilarious. Ever since I haven't had a single thought about suicidal ideation. The timing of this trip was the very last weekend before I would start actively writing on my Bachelor's thesis. I don't want to ascribe my success with that solely on the experiences of the trip, but the trip did grant me a confidence and sense of self that made the manifestation of my success all the more easy. On my way home I named myself anew. The day after I drew my new sona for the first time

II (20th April 2024)

"The Bad Trip" I dont remember the dosage ~100 to 150µ? same people as last trip. We decided to play some video game on the come up, the consequences of which were unforseen and harrowing. I had just started working a full-time job. The trip posed as a much-wanted break and symbolically as a signpost for me to go "I can still be myself and do what I want even if society has tighter clutches around me". I remember listening to ThouShaltNot's "the white beyond" on my way to my friend's place. The album was pointed out to me just a month before and I was slowly getting it into my rotation. I remember this bc I didn't pause the music as I was going up the stairs, just placed the headphones around my neck oblivious to the sound echoing throughout the stair well. They greeted me with "Do you have your own theme music now??" which, neither of us knew at the time, would become a resounding "yes". The song was "100 Generations". I was being made aware of a recklessness i think is inherent to my core. The 'not giving up space' in arguments heralded by the previous trip came back with me thinking it was more important that my friend was happier in a "shared reality" than in-tune with their own "subjective reality". There's no bad blood between us; but for me it made me reevaluate my identity as "Entropy". This force that is made out to be the ultimate destroyer- I love being entropy, but i don't want to destroy my friends. The timeline of this trip is muddy in my memory. We kept bouncing between topics and going back to play the video game we started. With our deteriorated hand-eye coordination the task of finishing the game was daunting. Nevertheless- in the deep of night, we managed to. More impactful however was that we didn't ever close the game during the trip. Leaving it on a "level cleared" screen, as such it provided us with a never-ending, always-repeating tune for our minds to spiral down on. One goal i had for the trip was "to see/feel my girlfriend again", the problem with drug-induced, non-real entities is that they tend to fade away when you don't pay attention anymore. And without her the yearning for love I felt ever-since I can remember (not to say i wasn't loved. it was moreso that i wanted more and more love. an unbelievable amount to convince myself of its realness) came back. the yearning- the hole at the center of my being. i hoped meeting her would fill it again, however temporarily. ...We didn't meet... Notable events included however the question of who one should live for (our answers being the same yet mirrored in each other beyond recognition) and the emergence of the mantra "The Answer Is Other People". At the time I knew already, that people like to help those close to them, because "doing good is good". It would take me much longer to realize just how far and that actually reaches. One last thing: in retrospect, it was just the light in the room reflecting off an iridescent flag; but in that present reality, my friend had looked upon me and said my skin shone like a pearl. I have rarely felt as beautiful as in this moment. Thus, I became pearlescent.

[thelittlestancient]

FIC: From High Towers (2/5?)

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters: Elidibus, Warrior of Light (Sosomeni Tutumeni), G'raha Tia (in later parts) Rating: General Audiences Words: 693 Prompt: "How would that even work?"

Part 1

"How would that even work?" Sosomeni asked, ever curious about the workings of aetherology.  "You'd have to traverse the Rift, and you're bound, well, here.  How could you leave to do so, trapped as you are?"

"The crystal you brought with you--it is a small soul vessel, rather cramped for one such as myself, but under the circumstances it shall have to suffice," Elidibus said, gesturing to where it still sits, lodged in the controls of the Umbilicus.  "It will not take much effort to insert myself into it, though I pray, do not be alarmed by the process.  The din will be terrible, but there is no danger.

"When I am fully seated, you will be free to carry me where you wish, and may bear me back to the Source as easily as you bore the crystal itself here."

"And you want me to bring you to the Source's Crystal Tower instead of this one, which begs a question: if the Tower itself is so necessary to what you plan to do, why can't you simply do it here?"  Soso's question wasn't so much full of doubt as it was sheer thirst for knowledge; long had he wondered about how the Ascians had accomplished all they did, and the revelations about Amaurot and the world of the Ancients so far had only whetted his tongue.

"By way of--"  Elidibus shook his head.  "No, a more thorough explanation can wait until I have the time to give it.  Rather imagine, if you will, a mirror.  A small mirror reflects a small amount of light; a larger mirror reflects a larger amount of light.  So it is with aether.  While I am no longer capable of wielding the star's aether directly without Zodiark, I spent my youth studying the means by which I might use the star to reflect and refract my own aether, thus amplifying my power.  But my practice made use of the star as it was prior to the Sundering, of course; a single shard is comparatively small and fragile, and I must be extremely careful in the way I make use of it.  But the Source is several times rejoined, and thus it offers to me a much larger and sturdier surface to work with, greatly increasing what I am capable of.

"And while I cannot take on the aether of the star, by binding myself to the Crystal Tower, I can wield its aether as my own, with the result that I would become part of it in truth."

Sosomeni pondered for a moment, taking in all Elidibus said.  "...exactly as the Crystal Exarch himself had done, though perhaps for different reasons."

A nod of response.  "I am, as are all of my kind, effectively immortal.  As I said to you on our first meeting, there is no cessation, no oblivion--only expulsion.  I cannot be cast into the Aetherial Sea, into the Lifestream, save by my own desire to go there.  The Tower does not change that fact, and I will be no more bound to life there than I am here.  I remain free to choose the time and circumstances of my own death."

"Then you forgo the hope of freedom for a lifetime of imprisonment," Sosomeni said, having wilted somewhat at Elidibus' words.  "It seems like such a feeble bargain, in order to save the star."

Elidibus half-smiled at him.  "No greater imprisonment than it was to be bound up in Zodiark.  I shall have such power at my hands as few of my fellows in Amaurot ever dreamt of, without the necessity of having to mediate between the souls who comprised Him.  With so little to distract me, I intend to devote myself wholly to study and research, and by such even my understanding of aetherology might grow by leaps and bounds; the breadth and depth which I shall add to that of the sundered would seem to defy description.

"Now: draw the crystal out of there and set it in the middle of the floor, and then brace yourself.  I promise the Tower will not collapse around you, however much you may fear it."

<end of part 2>

Part 3

[hoaxsen]

| happy [ late ] new years to one and all <3.

| here's some Levi angst.

| word count; 1,684

I'm coming home. 

" Promise me to stay alive? " 

" I always do, runt. You better promise me. "

" I promise. " 

Not all promises were made to be kept, either from the fact that they're broken almost instantly. Or they can't be kept at all, just empty words being said to fill the dead air created from the promise being said. 

Words that people take so seriously, as if they'd truly mean something. They're supposed to mean something, right? Supposed to mean the world to the people who created this. End it off with pinkies interlocking, like a kid friendly way of signing off a piece of your soul. 

A piece that you'll never get back. Discarded along with the broken seal, like as if finding a product in a store open. Needs to be thrown out.

I'm coming home. 

" This expedition might get us even further in taking back for humanity. " 

" Don't get your hopes up, just focus on coming back alive. . .please. " 

" I promised, didn't I? " 

You did, you promised Levi Ackerman an entire world in that one small and simple line. 

But that universe didn't hold up for long, it collapsed along with the small space of an open heart he had. This expedition was supposed to be clean and simple, Erwin said. It was supposed to run flawlessly, as he's promised time and time again. But failed to keep, this entire mission wasn't supposed to end this way. His new formation was supposed to have fewer casualties, little to no accidents should everyone follow pursuit. 

This time, that wasn't the case. The case that had opened and started it's cruel trial was the one happening here and now. 

The weight of it feeling like a star going supernova inside his heart. Though since that pressure was trapped inside so tightly, there was no way for it to be let out. The captain shut down, his mind going blank and his eyes looking vacant as he drunk in the news. 

Tell the world I'm coming home. 

" They. . .were caught in the hands of a titan, sir. " 

You weren't alive, not here to keep your end of the promise as he did with his. Not here to tell Levi that it was a mistake, they mistook you for someone else. That wasn't the ordeal, as much as he wished it was. All in his mind, playing on loop over and over was a silly little promise made before this. Of course it wouldn't have been kept, not in a world like this. A world where humanity is now at the bottom of the food chain, cornered like wounded animals. 

The captain of the Survey Corps dared not to let his heart leap out of his chest. The man dared not to shed a single tear in front of his comrades. This was the norm, he'd had to chant to himself like a prayer on a broken record over and over for the silver lining to not shine through. Hold it back all the way until he was behind closed doors, locked so tight that letting it all out wouldn't be a problem. So that his regiment could probably see, that even their captain was at this game long enough to realize not every little thing was going to last. 

A captain in front of everyone else, a human with emotions while being alone. That's how he wanted to treat this, tricking himself into thinking that's how he needed to treat this. 

Should he have looked on that cart, pulling the fallen soldiers back to the safety of the walls. Levi knew he would have let that dam overflow with the sounds of a heart aching lover. 

This expedition became the very reason why he loathed titans more. Becoming the very reason why, he started having doubts in his Commander. 

I know my kingdom awaits. 

The freshly dug hole waited for you alright back in Wall Rose. Somewhere maybe just outside the Krolva district, they called this place The Scouts Yard. 

How this one patch of land that could have been used for anything else, soon started becoming overtaken by the bodies of his fallen companions from their ongoing war. 

Now it houses your body. 

The weather of the day was a stark contrast of his mood, the sun was shining with a few small thin clouds in the sky. A pity really, he thought that whatever God was out there might knew how to read a room. Levi slowly got down onto his knees to read the words on the new tombstone. 

Here lies; Y/N L/N. 

The ravenette couldn't bring himself to read the rest, already biting down his tongue to distract himself from the stinging of tears in his eyes. Hands clenched into fists at his side, his nails threatening to dig into his skin and draw blood. The dirt that was gathering at the knees of his uniform was going unnoticed. 

' You promised me, idiot! How could you break it!? ' 

That broken promise lead you into a new world, a world of dirt under the earth. Was it like the hellhole he escaped from? Or was it better than the underground life? Except, there was no stairway fee. It was like your citizenship of this messed up surface world was revoked. Tarnished. Never to be used anymore. Torn away as if it were a fake and the MP's of that world came to collect you. 

The grey orbs of the Ackerman were starting to itch and pulse with the amount of restraint he was using to not let himself cry. Levi's breathing changed into one of a heavy, and broken up pattern. 

All he could think about was not here, not where people could see him at his weakest. Not at his lowest. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. Looking up, he saw none other than the man he promised himself to follow. 

That's funny, huh? How he promised you he'd stay alive if you did, and how he promised himself to follow after your murderer. Every. Step. Of. The. Way. His life he placed in Erwin's hands, the same hands that weren't big enough to take your life into consideration. His own captain snapped at him, pushing his hand away harshly. Grey hues glaring ever so harshly at what seemed to be confused blue orbs. 

Levi stood up to his full height, giving Erwin the greatest stare down of his existence. The commander taking a step back to retaliate, as if he were the victim. 

" Levi- " 

" This. Is your fault. " 

Levi left Erwin with that, not catching how the commander suddenly got the hint, staring down at your grave. 

And they've forgiven my mistakes. 

Was it a mistake, to have broken a promise in this cruel and fucked up world? Was it really? You could catch Levi pacing the shared room with this thought in mind. 

His side of the room was a complete and total mess. Just like his office, papers everywhere, wooden chair pieces scattered over his floor. Yet, should any piece debris get over to your side, Levi is cleaning it like a mad man. Leaving everything the way you had it before, hoping to preserve what he could of your memory. 

Thinking it would bring a sense of calm to his nerves. All it brought uneasiness, abandonment, and a whole battalion of negative emotions that started attacking and swirling inside him. He almost questioned if this was how titans felt when their ends were coming to a near. A silly question, one used to try and distract himself. Not like it was helping in any shape or form, just made him feel worse. Useless even. 

' Did I even say ' I love you enough ' ? Did I show them that I cared? Did I do enough before their time came!? ' 

A sob left him, loud and clear as day. Almost turning into another moment of pure wails and tears. The man was pretty sure he showed enough emotion, even when he tried and didn't really know how. Tried his best not to be closed off and buried in his work twenty-four/seven. He felt like screaming and sobbing this time. Was he even enough for you before death? If he wasn't so tired and dehydrated from doing the said act maybe about twenty minutes prior, Levi would have let the entirety of Wall Rose know his pain. 

Eyes bloodshot from the onslaught attack of tears that kept pouring over from his once shining metallic eyes. How many cups of tea had he had? That somehow didn't end up as glass shards beneath his boots. For once, the mess didn't bother him, his promise to stay clean was broken. Just like almost everything else. One promise he made out of this shit, was to kill each and every titan. Then show Erwin that they're human, not just soldiers waiting to throw away their lives for bastard nobles. 

Those were promises he couldn't break. Along with not forgetting you, a bittersweet reminder on how everyone precious leaves his life one way or another. No amount of rain in the world could wash away that pain. 

Here now sat the Scouts' captain, sitting up against a heavy locked wooden door, holding what was your cloak from the expedition. Levi couldn't bring himself to clean it, the red of your blood, or maybe someone else's stained and clashed with the green. Making it a murky, dark, and odd color, Levi clutched it to his chest. His stray fallen tears turning the fabric a darker shade of its color. 

" I promise you, brat. . .I'll be coming back home alive. " 

Not all promises could be kept, just words to fill the dead silent air that was created. Reminders that it could always be broken in the least expected amount of time, in the most hurtful way. A stupid way to sign off a piece of your soul and hope for the better. 

Tell the world that I'm coming home. 

Levi Ackerman, was now no stranger to it. 

[tuancore]

Lost You (Part 15) :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader

Genre- Angst

Summary- It's your choices and actions which made you miserable.

Jinyoung was growing impatient by the rate with which the meeting was proceeding, three hours in the meeting and he felt like he has already spent an year inside the conference hall. Hyunjin kept on mouthing incoherent things to him, trying his best to prevent Jinyoung from daydreaming in such an important meeting.

"I hope you liked the proposal, Mr. Park" The new business partner exclaimed happily, standing up from his seat, finally getting Jinyoung's undivided attention. Jinyoung nodded his head with a polite smile standing from his seat as well, "Mr. Jung, I'm really looking forward for our collaboration, thanks for your precious time".

"No worries Mr. Park, I'm glad that we are able to work together" He chuckled again with a genuine smile, "I'll let my secretary send you the drafts of the agreement, you can have a look at it and if you would like to make changes you're most welcome".

"Sure, thank you" Jinyoung spoke for the last time shaking hands with Mr. Jung, "Sir, I would like if you don't leave the meeting hall until I'm done escorting them" Hyunjin bowed politely before guiding Mr. Jung and his secretary the way out of the company. Few other employees who were also requested to attend the meeting left the hall after greeting Jinyoung.

With everyone out, Jinyoung immediately fished out his phone dialling BamBam's number. He ran his fingers through his luscious locks biting on his bottom lip impatiently. He wasn't able to concentrate properly in the meeting but he did take note of the main points, he was growing way too impatient to be beside you again, in these two months it's for the first time that he has left your side for so long almost three and a half hours.

"Why the hell isn't he picking up my calls?!" Jinyoung yelled tossing his phone on the leather chair, after BamBam failed to receive his calls.

Hyunjin entered into the room swiftly, standing in front of Jinyoung from the other side of the table, "Hyunjin, I have to go. Whatever the agreement will be just email them to me", Jinyoung expressed striding towards the door to leave.

"Ma'am is not in the hospital" Hyunjin stated slowly turning his head to face Jinyoung, who halted in his steps before he could even push the door open, "What do you mean by that?".

"Sir, ma'am is not in the hospital. Yugyeom hyung messaged me that Ma'am gained consciousness almost an hour ago and that they are taking her with them".

"S—She woke u—up?" Jinyoung's lips quivered with happiness, which he wasn't able to supress. He hugged Hyunjin tightly almost cutting his oxygen supply, "I—I understand but you're k—killing me—me...".

He broke the hug placing his hands on Hyunjin's shoulder, he reconfirmed "You sure, that they were not joking.....She really is......I mean she.....Oh god finally!". Hyunjin's heart warmed seeing Jinyoung so happy for the first time in these past months.

"I'm also very happy Sir".

"Why didn't you inform me earlier?"

"If I had informed you earlier then you would've surely left the meeting and rushed there, and you know this meeting was very important for us, for the company.....I'm sorry Sir", Hyunjin hung his head low in guilt for not informing him about you soon just because he was being thoughtful for the company and not for you who is Jinyoung's life.

"Yah!" Jinyoung called, shaking Hyunjin's shoulders, "There's nothing to be sad about, I'm so glad that you were always there beside me, always handled the official work whenever I failed to, I know these past months were hard for you as well. But not even once did you complain and I appreciate you heartily for that, Hyunjin-ah".

Smiling softly, Hyunjin nodded his head. Many of the employees of the Park Inc. wondered as to why Jinyoung tolerated Hyunjin when most of the times Hyunjin bossed Jinyoung around, but the thing which both of them hid very well was that Hyunjin was Jinyoung's cousin, he offered Hyunjin to work for him for the sake of work experience which Hyunjin gladly accepted.

He was afraid that people in the company would think that Hyunjin was trying to take advantage of being Jinyoung's brother, so he decided to not let anyone know that he was related to him instead he'll work as a normal employee along with others. Reluctantly Jinyoung accepted it, being such a young lad Hyunjin was super smart in every aspect of business administration, just like Jinyoung was. And within a small amount of Hyunjin became the most dedicated and hardworking employee of the company.

"Thank you hyung...." Hyunjin muttered softly, "So enough of this melodrama, we'll continue it later, I was starting to like it though", he teased Jinyoung for getting sentimental as he barely expresses his feelings to someone.

"Yeah.......sometimes it's good to cry and rejoice like people in daily soaps" Jinyoung added, both of them laughing heartily.

"Let's go and have Ma'am back in your arms now shall we?".

__________

"Will you both speak now?" You asked the two boys standing in front of you sternly, eyeing them in irritation. After the little confusing revelation of Youngjae being your bff, you started losing your temper growling at both of them for their stupid attempt to protect Youngjae and Jinyoung and have you to forgive them. Not knowing specifically what has to be done they brought you to their studio.

Crossing your legs on the only couch in their pretty decent studio, you sighed, "I have no idea what you both are trying to pull off.....but it's not enough to change my mind".

"Noona to be honest we are also as clueless as you", Yugyeom stated sitting on his swivel chair, "What do you mean?" You asked tilting your head.

"Can we know why you're so mad at Jinyoung and Youngjae?" BamBam cut in with a humble smile, "What did they both do? That you don't even want to hear their names".

"Did you both hit your head hard?" You blurted in disbelief, the two have been sticking around with you since the beginning of all the mess and now they are acting as if they don't remember a single thing. Unbelievable.

BamBam and Yugyeom both didn't want to force things on you seeing your still not very stable state, but your words were getting to their minds they have to know what's the reason behind your outburst, your anger for the other two.

Giving you a stoic face, they insisted for you to explain the thoughts going inside your head. With that you let everything out from the beginning to end, how Jinyoung alleged you of cheating on him with Jackson, how BamBam came to know about Jinyoung and Jisoo seeing eachother, how Youngjae was in love with you because of which he caused misunderstandings between you and Jinyoung. How your heart got broken by him because of which you lost your child and attempted suicide.

"But I'm alive any way" You grimaced rubbing your temples. BamBam and Yugyeom felt their souls leaving their bodies, their face got pale with cold sweats forming on their forehead.

"Th—That w—was.....What w—was t—that?" Yugyeom stammered wiping the little sweat beads from his head, "None of this has ever happened? Then what are you talking about?" BamBam spoke with widened eyes staring into your chocolate orbs.

"Please don't act as if you've forgotten everything! Their betrayal is not something to be forgotten within two months!"

It's not like they wanted to shout on you, but your stubbornness made it impossible to let the things run smoothly, they had to burst your bubble because whatever you were saying was nowhere close to normal and if extended it can cause harm in real as well.

"We haven't forgotten anything! You— Whatever you're saying has never happened, none of it is true. You said I was the one who told you about Jinyoung hyung cheating on you right? Then why the fuck don't I remember a single thing?!" BamBam snapped rising from his chair pacing back and forth in the room.

"What the fuck do you mean by you don't remember a thing?" You snarled at BamBam, "How can you forget everything so easily? Or you're sympathizing with Jinyoung and Youngjae?".

"I'm not sympathizing with anyone Noona! I'm fucking not!" He yelled back, "You said you committed suicide, but let me tell you, you didn't commit such a crime!".

"BamBam stop! I clearly remember that I slit open my wrist with a shard, wait let me show yo—", You pulled the sleeves of your shirt, to see your wrist but words got caught in your throat.

"What? Show us" BamBam added, crossing his arms to his chest, almost challenging you. You traced your wrist which was badly teared open by the shard, "How—How....c—come there's n—no mark?".

BamBam stood beside you taking your said hand in his, "You slit it open here?", He emphasized, "And there's clearly no mark, do you think it some sort of a joke that hurting yourself with a sharp piece of shard will leave no scar?".

"Okay, let's assume it didn't leave a scar but after stitching your wrist up will the stitch mark fade so soon?" BamBam proclaimed, "Two months are not enough, sometimes the scar remains for lifetime".

"And that's the proof that whatever you told us.......was something that never took place" Yugyeom concluded, nodding his head at you.

Thats true, even a knife cut would take months to heal then how come such a severe wound will heal this fast. Your skin seemed to be absolutely normal, same as that of your other hand, yanking your hand from BamBam's grip, you bellowed "But all I remember is dying and then all of a sudden I woke up to your face! Can it be some coincidence?".

"We don't know what it is, but all we know is that whatever you are saying is nothing but your own imagination, since nothing, not a single thing has ever happened in these past few months!" BamBam grunted, almost losing his calm.

Your mind was spinning like anything, every single moment is burnt in your memory, you can call out every single detail of whatever you've said to them. Then how come they both are trying to defy your not so old past. Everyone was aware of how much BamBam and Yugyeom are fond of joking and pranking but this time there was not a slightest hint of humour in their eyes or body language instead their faces were emotionless and voice was stern.

"What is happening?" You mumbled trying to soothe your pounding headache which suddenly caught upto you. Rotating your eyes across the room you eyes fell onto the desktop calendar.

Striding towards the table, you grabbed it, pair of eyes following your each and every move, "What month is it?" You asked.

"It's November".

Your gasped at the reply, "How can this be even possible?" You mumbled to yourself. When you committed suicide it was the month of November. Then how come it's still November.

"If I didn't commit suicide, then why was I admitted to the hospital?".

"Yes you were admitted to the hospital, but not because you had committed suicide but because you had a severe concussion", Yugyeom revealed, pointing at your head and that's when you realised a bandage was wrapped around your head the entire time which you failed to pay heed to.

"Two months ago, you had an accident in which a lorry ran into your car", BamBam professed looking at your wrapped head, "Your car was found upside down, your head smashed against the dashboard, it was a huge trauma for all of us".

"Noona we don't know what's going on with you, but trust us, none of it ever happened. We can never do injustice to you by saving them if they would have done such a terrible thing to you", Yugyeom expressed softly with a subtle smile, "And the truth is that Youngjae hyung is your bestfriend and Jinyoung hyung never cheated on you".

Youngjae is your bestfriend.

Jinyoung never cheated on you.

Pondering over his words, you forced your brain into recalling the events from the past, shutting your eyes close all you saw was a small glimpse of the time where you were grabbing coffee with Jackson teasing him bout Minyoung. Gripping on your scalps harshly, you groaned at the excruciating pain shooting through your brain.

Part 14 // Part 15

______________________________________

(A/N: I seriously have no idea what you guys are going to think about this chapter so just let me know, sorry for all the mess, probably the next part will be the last one.Anyways thank you so much to you all).

[ninjapaste]

Alongside the story I have been concocting involving Twig and co. (which I have yet to name surprisingly) there is another story, which although I spend less time on now, am hoping to do so in the future as I get further into fleshing out my Fantasy story and completing most of the work on my practice comic.

This story is sci - fi rather than fantasy and the primary character of this one is probably my first original character that I labelled as OC (also the first OC I drew digitally). Twig comes second, but in the way that the original was completely different to what is seen today; she has gone through so many changes in design and personality to fit with the universe she is in (which also changes a lot).

In regards to my first OC, they have developed in design but not as much as Twig. I actually remember the two characters originally meant to be a duo upon their earliest conception but the strong contrast in themes left me to decide putting them into different universes/stories altogether. I also remember the original Twig (which was not called Twig back then) being created from my first OC.

Now on to this sci - fi story. This one is currently titled 'Alpha - Star Voyage'.

Alpha - Star voyage surrounds the event in which a powerful sun from one universe is transported to an alternate one by a multi - planetary organisation investigating the nature of different planes of reality and foretold windows within it. The unexpected arrival of this sun destroys the organisation's HQ and thousands of its labs due to the overwhelming power of the star. Not in its optimal environment/plane of reality, the sun began its six phases into explosion, which altogether took 300,000 Earth years. The sun then broke into trillions upon trillions of shards, eliminating all life within the galaxy in the process. These shards were then shot through the universe into many galaxies and had the potential to morph into complex organisms. Most of the shards ended up in the galaxy Gnon3. The main character, Xelicon (or Xel for short) was created from one of these shards.

This is Xel.

Xel, unlike Twig, has no innocence or special charm about them; their face has 'serious' written all over it. In fact, they had lost such innocence shorty after their conception. They were found and caged by crooks on a trade planet (a planet that acts as a hub for trading and travelling merchants), who took Xel's hair, teeth, appendages and even organs for large sums of cash. It wasn't until they cut off Xel's hands and feet when they left them (Xel) to die (I might have made this too dark, oops). This is why Xel bears artificial gloves and feet, as well as a pack biologically stuck to their back that takes the function of their lost organs, which were present to allow the body to adapt to the atmosphere/environment of different planets. All of these parts were either crafted or bought by a travelling merchant family, who let Xel wander free after their recovery. The first thing Xel did was take their revenge; they broke the crooks' arms, crapped for the first time and stole one of their spaceships (the one hoarded with all their profits). Xel, inspired by the family that had saved their life, set themself on a voyage to find other shard beings in hopes of finding or forming a family or friendship. Xel has a personal duty to help, protect and serve others who cannot protect themselves, but also seeks to quell their own loneliness in life.

Xel is generally not one to joke around and is utmost loyal to those they respect. They will tend to show negative emotions over positive ones; their joy often goes hidden within a blank, still figure. Xel cares a lot about their own power, figure and height, being quite weak, short and lanky (naturally and due to circumstance) bothers them when it becomes relevant.

In combat, Xel uses their gloves, feet and any extra artificial applications to enchance speed and attack power, mainly set in melee. However, the gloves can be used as projectiles and the feet as rocket shoes that are energized from Xel's own solar energy (thanks to them being a sun shard from anither universe and such). However, this means that using these solar attacks drain Xel's stamina, making them even weaker than normal, so they use it sparingly.

Some concept art of the hijacked ship.

As Xel gets well within their travels, they stop at a moon bar (imagine those little food courts , hotels and bars you see by the motorway but they are on moons instead). In this moon bar, Xel comes across their first ever travelling companion, or should I say, companions...

Enter, Reed (and Bark)

The unfortunate soul of the two in this pairing is Reed - taken tens of thousands of lightyears away from their home planet by a sun - shard parasite that knows only chaos, primal desires and its self - chosen name, Bark.

Reed is the prime example of a man who has lost almost everything and has nothing left to live for. He was once relishing on the highest sides of life back on his home planet: a prestigious position in the entertainment field, a 6 - digit salary and worldwide fame and respect for his authentic charm (Xel could've learned a thing or two) and confidence. Of course, this life came crumbling down when Reed was backstabbed, framed and humiliated by competiton and even part of the government. After being kicked down some more in a game of 'beat the dead horse' and disowned by everyone he loved, Reed had settled in a life of seclusion, watching the rest of the world forget his entire existence as fast as his balding hair fell off. Reed had come to realise the genuinely toxic and judgemental nature embedded in the system he blindly relished in (omg society) and with that, lost his charm, self - confidence, positivity, pride and hope.

Bark has no such deep and harrowing life history, technically a parasite looking for the right body to inhabit and conquer. Sure, a dude in his 30s who looked well in his 50s and sported socks with sandals would never seem the cut to most, but his vulnerability made him the perfect host. Reed's home planet did not know 'aliens' existed, so when Reed saw a blood - red toothy creature clawing towards him, he was frozen in shock. From there, Bark took an unconcious Reed's body and used it to cause great havoc across Reed's home planet before somehow hopping planet - to - moon - to - planet, seeking sustenance and chaos. It is only when Xel finds Bark terrorising a bar and slapping the goofy out of the mutt - headed specimen does Reed regain control and struggle to figure out where and what he is.

Bark tries to manipulate Reed, but simply cannot due to the nonexistent emotional bond between them (only physical). Xel and Reed get along ok, though.

There are some perks that came with being the host of a parasite; Reed's lost eye (from an early age) and severed arm (from some nutcase a month before the encounter with Bark) have been completely regenerated, but with some of Bark's DNA. The newfound powers that Bark has brought allows Reed to defend himslef and Xel, but usually only when Bark is willing to cooperate. When Bark takes the wheel, they do tend to stick with Xel, them being sun - siblings and all, but some cases just needs to be knocked out. Reed always follows Xel's lead on things, his more nervous, less confident self and little knowledge of outer space life being the cause of this. However, often when encouraged by Xel, Reed takes charge in things he specialises in and tries to act more like his former self, showing more and more glimpses of that gradually.

Heres some extra Xel sketches + a page of concepts/brainstorming when I was developing Bark/Reed.

[straydawg]

when the rain stopped.

summary: killua's tears are the rain that falls. (or, a short fic where killua can't live on with gon dead.)

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Rain was falling.

You didn't know what moved you to come so far out, only to lay with your back saturated against the cold concrete as the rain washed over your body.  It bruised your face with every shard of ice-like rain. There was something so violent, so excruciatingly heart-rending about the downpour. The sky was thundering in wails of misery. Raindrops surged from the sky, crashing into one another, plunging onto roofs and cars. They held no consideration for where they would land. They only poured down.

It had been like this for hours now.

Your hair was matted and soaked. You reached your hand up to the sky, feeling the pounding rain crush it. Tears, indistinguishable from the rain, streamed down the sides of your face and mingled with the rising puddle beneath you.  'Were those your tears? When had you begun crying?'

You could no longer see the sky above you, as the rain kept falling down with such fervent and passionate intensity you were forced to squeeze your eyes shut. There was no reason to cry or even be there at all, but you could feel the sky mourning.

No.

Someone was grieving.

This had to be a real person. This was desperation, heartbreak, and loss all in one.

A deep cry of thunder lamented around you, so deafening the buildings shook. Perhaps you would drown here- if you didn't die beneath the sheer pressure of the storm first.

Just what happened to cause a thunderstorm charged with this much grief?

The cries turned into whimpers, short bursts of lightning illuminating the black sky.

It was radiant.

With every fluoresce of lightning, you saw another's life flash before your eyes.

"Gon!" He shook the lifeless boy in front of him.

"No no no no NO! Please Gon," Killua screamed, holding Gon to his chest and rocking the both of them.

Tears splashed onto Gon's eyelids, but they weren't his.

"Idiot, wake up! You can't die here. You can't die yet."

"You're meeting your dad for breakfast tomorrow. Mito is planning for you to come back home in the summertime. You're just a kid...we're just kids..."

Killua clung onto him tighter with every word, but Gon fell limp in his arms. He clenched his fist into the dirt, shoving sharp debris underneath his fingernails.

Killua refused to believe it. The person he had spent years adventuring with, the one who had helped him see his worth, the one who had saved him. He couldn't be gone, just like that. No, Gon was not the type to give up, and he would never back down in a fight even if he were outmatched. He would always come out with a smile and a, "hey don't worry about me! We did it, didn't we?"

But not this time.

Killua's sweat was sticking to Gon as he tore himself away to gaze at his friend. The bright moonlight shined on Gon's face, wet with Killua's tears. It was too bright for a night like tonight. He smudged the dirt off the boy's cheeks.

"Gon. Please wake up. D-Don't be so selfish. I.. you're the most precious thing to me. You're my dearest friend. The world.. it can't turn if you aren't there." He sniffed.

A tear escaped from the corner of Gon's eye.

"K..K.."

"Gon!"

"Killua.. thank you..." Gon coughed, cracking open his eyes. "From the day I met you and everyday I've been alive since...I knew I'd never find someone else like you. You made me li-"

Killua couldn't hold back the hailstorm of sobs that wracked his body as he heard Gon's words. He was still alive. He wouldn't let him die.

"Gon, don't talk like this is the end! I'm going to save you," he began scooping up Gon's body, ready to take him somewhere- anywhere that wasn't there.

"Let me finish. I want to hold onto this last moment...with you. Please."

Killua reluctantly set him back down on the dirt, laying him gently against a wall. He never let go of his hand, in fear that Gon would fade away from him in front of his very eyes.

"You made my life worth it. Ging said.. He said to enjoy the little detours in life because those are the moments you treasure the most. You never were just a detour, Killua. You became my purpose," Gon's eyes glistened. His light was fading fast.

Those few words were apparently too much for him, as it sent him into a violent fit of coughing. There was blood oozing out from his mouth. Killua quickly wiped off the redness with his fingers and grabbed onto his friend again.

He held Gon's forehead to his.

"Don't leave me."

No response.

Killua felt an exhale of breath touch his face. He didn't dare move.

After a few moments had passed, Killua found the strength to lay Gon onto the ground, and place his own longsleeve shirt over the boy for warmth.

Gon only wore a tank top. He'd be chilly without it.

Taking some steps back, Killua stared at the boy laying on the floor. Gon looked like he had shrunk, so weak and devoid of life.

There was nothing left in Killua, but a throbbing pain and emptiness.

Falling to his knees, he let out a series of gut-wrenching screams. His sobs filled the night just as much as the stars in the sky did. He beat the floor until his hands were bloodied and mangled, unleashing strikes of lightning to the earth with every devastating blow. Hopefully, the lightning would ruin him too.

What even was the point anymore? There was no longer any light left to illuminate the dark.

Once Killua had bled himself dry of all tears and every emotion there was, he weakly looked upon Gon's form.

Hadn't he said that the world would not turn if Gon wasn't there? But why was it still going? Why was he the only one suffering this cruel loss? Why were there people who were going about their lives right at this very moment, not knowing Gon had just died?

His world could not go on without Gon, smiling him on. Pushing him on. So— he had made his decision.

Memories of all their priceless times together played in Killua's mind like a movie, as if he were experiencing each one of them again for the first time.

The time they first met—

Gon hadn't even questioned Killua's line of work. He had become his first ever friend without a second thought. No one had ever put that much faith in him before.

The time Gon brought him to Whale Island—

Killua had been shocked at Mito's generous hospitality. He had learned what a real home was like, and Gon had asked him to continue travelling with him. It made him feel special, although he had never admitted it out loud before.

The time they began Greed Island together—

He never did tell Gon the real reason he followed him there. It wasn't just to find his dad. Maybe he was embarrassed, or scared too, but the truth was obvious. He loved Gon. That's why he stayed.

The time he saw Gon lying in that stupid hospital bed—

Killua wasn't sure if he felt hurt, angry or betrayed, but the one thing he knew is that he was being torn apart. He was breaking to pieces seeing Gon dying slowly in front of him. He swore he would save him, and he did.

But he couldn't save him today.

Sitting up a little straighter, Killua took a deep breath. Turning his nen against himself, he sent the electricity force of 900,000 volts straight to his heart. Enough to kill a tortured assassin like himself.

Killua fell to the ground next to Gon, and shakily reached for his hand. Once he had made contact, he sighed and closed his eyes.

He hoped and prayed that this would count as Lover's Suicide. Maybe, if the universe cared at all, and if some force out there pitied these tormented children enough— they could have a chance at life together. Souls forever intertwined in the afterlife.

Then the rain stopped.

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❝ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴀꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ

ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟʟʏ

ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴀʟʟ

ꜰʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ

ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ

ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏʀɴ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ

ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ❞

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

author's notes: hello! i'm new to tumblr and hoping to improve my writing here and make new friends! :) this blog will be multifandom, (bsd, hxh, aot, etc.)

requests are open!