#whydidiwritethis

[screamingnacle]

Bitter Resolutions

A stare's blankly into the distance, avoiding whatever accusations B's eyes can make.

B stares holes into the side of A's face. He feels as if he's being abandoned. He's not wrong, but A can't save him anymore while she's drowning.

She's saying she's tired, and he doesn't understand how. He takes care of her. She barely has to lift a finger outside of housework. How in the world could she be tired? For fucks sake, he should be the one complaining.

“, I just can't handle it anymore, B,” She yearns for his understanding now more than ever.

Standing up for herself has never been A's strong suit. Suffering in silence to protect the peace was. So long standing in denial of her emotions has left A a shaking wreck. She can't sleep anymore. Can't hide in her mind anymore. She's hit a brick wall and has nowhere left to run.

“, I thought we were happy. Everyone thinks we're happy, A,” He retaliates.

B's anger spikes. She strikes with words, sinking her fangs into the jugular of B's feelings.

“, Not me. Not anymore.”

The insinuation that he wasn't good enough painted B's world red. He would never be good enough for anybody. He had told A this before, early in their relationship. Everyone always leaves.

“, I don't think I ever have been,” she admits, sinking the blade deeper.

It was a cruel thing of her to tell him, but she had made a career of soothing B's feelings. There was a time where he did the same for her. Maybe at some point he got tired of it, maybe A was too much for him to handle. Everyone eventually stops caring.

“, When do you leave?” He asks, after steadying his breath.

“, Soon,” she says. This day had been too much already. This conversation had drained her of whatever strength she had left. Now she only wanted to cry herself to a restless sleep.

She got up to leave, weakened legs shaking as she rose.

“, stay,” He whimpered.

A didn't need to look back to know B's face was now streaked with red hot tears. This was his way. When the going got tough, B got to crying.

A bitter part of her mocked him for being able to be so weak in front of her. He was lucky she was so kind. The people of her upbringing would have eaten him alive for crying like such a little bitch in front of everyone. Especially over a girl.

The other part, the one that still loved him, forced her to turn back and take him into her arms like she always did. Stoking his hair as his arms came up around her, locking her in so she couldn't get away.

While his breath calmed, her mind buzzed so loud A could have sworn she had a cicada in her ear. Her pulse throbbed so loudly A wouldn't have been surprised if B could hear her blood sloshing in her  arteries.

He sat there and cried in her arms for as long as she allowed. That was how long he had always known their relationship would last. However long she allowed.

In B's mind, he wasn't worthy of A's love to begin with. She was always the light he followed like a moth. The sun that shined despite all the clouds in her mind. He would always love her. But he couldn't follow her. His roots were buried too deep.

“, I'll never forget you,” she said into his hair.

With shaking breath and trembling arms, he whispered “, Ditto.”

[limesandshit]

It is quiet. I’ve lived in the depths of silence for my whole life, so why… Why is it so frightening? Why am I tired, terrified of the nothingness that has been alongside me for so long?

But then the pain started coming back. Marching in as little streams that built up, just like the red leaking out of my back. Little by little, my senses came back to me. Slight pain, but that’s alright, I’m used to that too. I notice the drops coming down on my face.

How sad. The sky was crying for someone like me… The shape hovering by my side had free-flowing tears too. It looked like them.

Why were they still here? They got what they wanted out of this, so why won’t they leave? I can feel their grip on my arm and I notice that I’m laying on their lap, dagger still embedded in my chest. I can tell they want to talk, want to apologize. But they know that nothing is going to heal our broken hearts.

I don’t know how long they held me, but at the end of it all, they never spoke a word. The apology hangs in the air, dead. Dead. That’s what I’ll be when I fade. Echoes of a happy ending are prominent in my mind. My dear, dear lover… I’ll miss them.

Maybe they did cherish me, but villains don’t get happy endings. Villains don’t deserve joy. The stars ignore us, and in turn, I’ve never seen the stars.

I can sense when they finally leave, unable to look at my soaked body anymore. The dirt under me is slowly turning to mud.

My sight is leaving.

Now the sensation of rain isn’t pricking my skin.

I can’t hear the little voices at the back of my mind.

The damp smell of rain and fog recedes.

The sharp taste of blood is bland in my mouth.

My thoughts are melting apart.

My hope is gone.

Tell me, sunshine, why did I believe in something so foolish and miserable?

Why did I trust in this unreachable star?

Talk to me and tell me, why did I love you?

[dickgraysonfucker]

The D in Dean stands for depression

I thought it stood for cas

[mymindstv]

FakeAHCrew idea- meeting the Sauce Pt2

Continued thoughts, sorry this is so long

I've practically made this a story (I’m not a writer this is so dumb)

-Ever since Alfredo moved out to Los Santos to get work and possibly find a crew to cement the money flow, it’s been a wild ride just like the rest of life

-Most of the gangs were either too small or lacked the coordination for what he wanted to achieve, they couldn’t keep up with him, or they got upset some non-local dared to think he could run with them (in which he proved them wrong, but it was too late by then), and not to mention the lack of trust all around

-He couldn’t hate on solo mercenary work though, where his versatile skills and abilities shined, no worries of double crossing, and the richest of the rich throwing money everywhere for him to “clean up the city”, earning him the title “the Sauce”

-Lately though, a certain demanding kingpin had been hollering for heads to roll, claiming “You owe me big time, you skinny fuck”, and there came the double edge of solo-work

Pay back a favor you have no memory of, or since no one’s watching his back, be more paranoid than usual, unfamiliar with how Los Santos rich fucks run and not wanting to know how many fuckers could be chasing after him or worse?

Fuck it, he wants the guy off his back, so the Sauce will deliver, any request will be fulfilled

-Hit after hit, the kingpin frothing at the mouth for bodies piling higher and higher until he wanted heads of the Fakes, a big gang Alfredo was aware of, but not informed about, so he takes to the rooftops for his own research

-What Alfredo gathers is that they are practically psychopaths, destruction and confusion trailing their steps, lower sides of town practically in awe of them, the corrupt privileged and competing gangs shaking in their boots at the sight of them barreling in and he dug it

-They treat each other- or at least act, like a family, busting each others’ balls, but will throw themselves into the fray if it will keep the others alive (they watch each others’ backs and he’s got no one)

-What else is that he must need more sleep or something bc he’s been seeing ghosts run around Los Santos and he’s not gonna lie, it’s really been fucking with him each time he had to watch the fakes

He never found out if his brothers died or not when they disappeared and he never checked up to see if they were still alive either, but damn, two of the fakes were hitting him hard in the nostalgia with appearances and mannerisms

A dangerous big guy called Vagabond running around in a black skull mask, pulling antics like his older brother Ryan used to, acting creepy but goofy while upholding his murderous reputation, and from the shadows, often waiting for the opportunity to strike with a grin is someone else wearing his face..... oh fuck that might not just be nostalgia

-From then on, Alfredo more or less unofficially became a guardian angel for his brothers and eventually all of the reckless fakes, fleeing the scene before they notice, it’s hard to continue on a head hunting mission when the targets are people you still care about even if you’re not a part of their life anymore

But he finally slipped up, got too involved getting up close and personal with a rival gang, but he had to, they got Ryan and Michael cornered and backup wasn’t gonna make it time, so the Sauce delivered and he wiped the floor with them, but he also wiped away his perfect record of giving the client what they want bc his demanding as fuck oldass richbitch kingpin is probably pissed damn it that guy’s gonna come for him

So Alfredo plans to leave Los Santos like how he arrived, unaware of the familiar eyes looking after him

-Once Alfredo makes his hasty exit, Trevor books it after him and Ryan tries to follow after, but Michael stops him at least one of you dramatic assholes is explaining shit to me right now, whose best option is to just call the crew for another backup driver and fast

-A game of cat and mouse around the city ensues, but this time Trevor catches up to Alfredo, but just he’s getting cornered by the demanding client and his goons, an old contact that Trevor’s annoyed to see, talking out his ass with his nose sniffing for the heavens

-”I hired you to take out the fakes, not fucking cover them,” The goons inch in more and more, Alfredo’s not that concerned about them, he’s concerned on who’s the backup plan for the goons “Ya’ know Treyco, thought you’d learn be by now-”

Wait a fucking minute, not only is Alfredo pissed (this fucker didn’t fucking know who he was actually hiring!? He didn’t owe this guy shit god damn it!!), but so is Trevor and before the kingpin could finish his thought, his hired muscles were out across the concrete with knives in their backs, and Trevor reveals himself from the shadows, with a sharpened grin and burning eyes “Now, if you wanted to see me that bad old friend, you could’ve called~”

The poor fucker was seeing double, sputtering as he looked at these two look-a-likes, the real Trevor with his bladed teeth and melting eyes, and Alfredo with a tight frown burning a hole through his head since he removed his sunglasses

Safe to say, another glorious puppeteer of Los Santos forcibly met his violent end, screaming in agony the entire way in some shit alleyway

The second the kingpin left the world, Trevor nearly smashed Alfredo into a hug, leftover adrenaline and pushed back emotions overriding sense, while Alfredo froze in response

“At least in this reunion, no one’s stabbed each other yet, huh?” He brings up a past joke in a wobbly tone, but it was worth it to hear Alfredo snort and chuckle as he finally hugged him back

-By the time the fakes find them, having skewered the city looking for them, they’re eating at a McDonalds or something, joking around and planning hare-brained heists on napkins, ignoring the blood upon their clothes, and there the crew gets a personal introduction to Alfredo the Sauce, already mixing him up with Trevor but picking up their small differences

-Ryan feels conflicted from his mix-ups bc yes he hadn’t seen Trevor and Alfredo since they were kids and sibling angst stuff but he should know his brothers’ faces also thank fuck the best people of his past family are still alive

-Jeremy’s embarrassed at his mix-up because he definitely knew of all people from being on the Stream Team that Trevor can’t do sniping worth shit and he doesn‘t appear outside during the day unless there’s work to do in the shadows, he’s practically allergic to the sun (in which he loudly adds to the conversation, much to Trevor’s ire and his twin’s amusement)

-Alfredo’s happy to not be alone anymore, especially with the endless embarrassing stories about his brothers

[redeyeaysu]

Light in the Darkest Hour

So, my campaign has recently hit some very traumatic stuff for at least half of our characters and my muse has been summoned. I have been asked for many crack pairings from a few of our players, so those should follow at some point. Mostly I wanted to do something sappy between my babies. D; Leelu is my (very abused) half-elf Seer and Rience is my Aasimar druid rogue.

~*~*~*~*~*~

  Rience took a deep breath as he quietly opened the door leading to one of his dearest friends. Their friendship had been quick, and despite the age difference, Rience had clung to it. He had been over the moon when he had been allowed (well, partly allowed and grudgingly given) to travel across the ocean, away from Mayaline and their vast continent to the one he hadn't been to in many years.

   Leelu was curled up in the corner of her room, knees drawn up to her chest and head down. Her travel worn shoes were missing and it looked like she had picked at the hem of her trousers unconsciously, the fabric fraying more than usual. Rience made it his mission to take the group out cloth shopping either before or after they, or whoever was willing to join them, arrived in Mayaline. It would do no good to be traveling around like ragamuffins in his homeland. He had an image to keep up, after all.

   Rience eased himself down beside the woman, movements slow and steady as to not startle her. She startled so easily nowadays. The stories she had told him had painted a bleak picture of how that habit had grown and flourished though, so he took care to not evoke it when he could.

   He turned his body, gently nudging one leg between Leelu's back and the wall, the other framing her. Reaching ever so slowly, Rience eased one of her arms free, bringing it from her space into his so he could lace their fingers together. The contrast of pale and tanned caught his attention briefly; Leelu's time adventuring had darkened her skin more then he remembered when she lived in the temple.

   He did not know why she was like this. He did not really care. Leelu was allowing Rience to get in her space, rub his warm hands on her chilled skin and he would accept what he could get from the Seer until she was ready. He knew that that Finger fella had taken her somewhere before locking them in their rooms; it did not take an idiot to guess where. They had spoken of her time missing, in late night snatches while the rest of their group slept.

   It must have been hours they sat in silence. Despite his never dwindling energy, Rience knew how to be still, how to be calm when it was called for. He just chose not to on most occasions. Much easier to lead people into a false sense of security when he acted like a sugar high rat wearing a tutu looking for cheese instead of the revered crowned prince and bounty hunter he was.

   “Moradin never betrayed me.” Leelu finally muttered into her knees. Her voice was rough as if she had been swallowing down wails instead of releasing them. Rience made a sound in the back of his throat in question. Leelu's green eyes turned to look at his own golden ones, tears steadily falling down to drip down her cheek. “The Church... they worshiped that damn Demon.” She coughed out a torn, painful laugh. “The people who raised me... preached of Moradin's light and taught me His way... people I took care of as babies...” Leelu choked, brought her hand to her mouth to bite down on the flesh at the base of her thumb, in angry or sadness, Rience couldn't guess, but he wasn't about to let her hurt herself. He jolted forwards, pulling the now bleeding hand from her mouth and trapping it with her other in his grasp. With a shift forward, the Druid used his legs to bring himself closer, wrapping his free arm around Leelu's shoulders and bringing the openly wailing woman to his chest.

   What was worst, he wondered, a God and his faith leaving you to suffer, or a group of beloved people going behind your back? Betrayal was betrayal, he supposed. Rience had never had a greater deity to worship. He prayed to no one. He believed in celestials, his mother was one, but no one in Mayaline really worshiped them. In a time of battle, men and woman had maybe offered up prayers to his mother, but he had never done such a thing.

   However, he knew Leelu had been devoted to her Church, her people, and Moradin. As a child he had watched her prostrate herself before the God's shrine every morning with her peers, read the hymns and sing their praise. He had asked why, on many occasions, to be met with rather heartfelt answers or scoldings. She had worn the robes, held herself high, and walked with the knowledge that Moradin was looking out for her.

   The Aasimer wove his fingers through Leelu's hair, bringing her tighter against him. What was it like to have everything ripped out from under you, not once, but twice?

   Rience let his friend cry, rage, and sob into his chest, brushing her hair out of her face, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away, and humming little songs from his home he used to sing to his little brother. Thinking of home reminded him of one of the reasons he was here. Originally, he was going to just leave. He did not need to drag these people, his new friends, into his troubles. It would be dangerous, if Trilby had been accurate in his knowledge. Varric was a force to be reckoned with, and he had no knowledge of who had hired the man to go after his family. His family was strong, but without a warning that they were in danger. He could not leave them to fend for themselves.

   He knew he could not leave Leelu like this, could not leave her to figure out everything again. She did not deserve all this pain and by Hell and high water would he have her suffer by herself once more.

   Moving closer, if even possible, Rience brushed his lips against her temple, across her cheek, before letting go of her hands and cradle her face between his own. He kissed her forehead, her nose, the tears under her eyes. Never the lips; this land was strange after all and that meant something different to them. He breathed against them, however, resting his forehead on hers.

   “Leelu, su sceck, I plan to go home, to Mayaline.” Rience whispered, holding her gaze as one would hold hands. He rubbed his thumbs to catch more tears, mildly noting that the burn scar that was once there was gone. If one scar could be removed, maybe they could soften the others? “You are going to come with me. Let The Fingers or whoever handle things here for a bit. They seem to have some greater knowledge of what is going on.” He wasn't sure if he could trust the man that had attacked them, but Brom seemed to know the group well and Rience's animal instincts said he could trust him enough. He worried about Hartly's son, and it almost physically made him sick that the elven man and his child could not be together, but if they were a danger to the child, maybe they needed to be scarce for a bit. Rience had his family and Leelu to worry about now.

   At some point, Rience had relocated them to the bed, tucking Leelu under the covers and laying beside her on top of the sheets. He ran his fingers up and down her back as sleep finally started to settle on her like an extra blanket. Her eyes were red-rimmed, making the slivers of green stand out brightly every time she fought her heavy eyelids. In the morning, Rience decided, he would explain. He would tell her everything; his plans, his fears, and the dangers. He would give her the choice, though he would prefer her to just remain in his home, away from what could happen, until she could regather herself and decide what she wanted to do.

   When his dearest friend finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep (he would deny magic was involved until his last breath), Rience stood from the bed, bare feet not even a whisper on the floor as he quietly closed the door behind him. He stood by the door, wiping his own face free of tears and fixing the small feathers that grew on his shoulders back to perfection. The druid decided against finding a shirt to throw on as he walked to Oriana's room, though he did ruffle his hair to give it his signature 'sexy, just got out of bed look'. Time to get back into character, time to see if anyone else would join him on his possible suicide mission to save his parents. He needed to write his will too, make sure that if anything happened to him, his friends and family would be okay, Leelu would be okay.

   He knocked on Oriana's door, pasting a smile on his face.

[nanashisaka96]

I, uhh.... might need some help.... #notebook #photography #drunk #whydidiwritethis #drunkwriting #depression #handwriting https://www.instagram.com/p/CFCeFsThs6A/?igshid=1tn72a357f2fi

[the-ultimate-nobody]

The Simple Life of Discord Bots

[A/N: This is so dumb, that im posting it here. Thats low in my standards. I used sites to translate the Morse code and binary. If this gets a certain amount of notes, imma continue writing it. Until then, I deem this the ------ story I ever wrote] /This wasn't beta’ed read and hardly no Editing/

“.- .-. - ... -.--!!!” The small Drawbot Snake froze in place, hearing a familiar clicks and beeps from the older bot. They slowly turned their head, seeing a famliar dark red M:TG bot, who's currently crossing his arms and staring at the young robot.

“...00101110001011100101011101101000011000010111010000111111” Artsy questioned, letting out beeps and ticks. They tilted their head and stared at the older bot, fluttering their own small mechanical wings.

“.-- .... .- - / .- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.. --- .. -. --. .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-- .. - .... / - .... . / -.-. --- -. - .-. --- .-.. / .--. .- -. . .-.. .-.-.-” Magi said, flying closer to the middle of the Void Chat to the pedestal floating in the middle. The Control Panel for the whole Chat, and Artsy here is messing with it. Ever since the new arrival of the New Bot, deemed the name ‘Plushie’, Artsy gotten more brave on their surroundings. The silver naga monster sat on their curled tail and crossed their arms, ignoring Magi and continuing looking around the flouting screens above him.

Magi sighed and looked back at the Green Avatar’s chair, where Plushie laid down, sleeping and dreaming, seeing how he flapped his wings in the air and the occasional soft ‘moo’s’. His gaze went down to his feet, eyeing on the time.

“ 9:02 PST PM; 12:02 CST AM; 1:02 EST AM”

The Magic bot sighed, ‘It’s only 9 over there.’

A long drawn out gasp caught Magi’s attention to a certain screen. Currently showing all of the Tokuranger’s persona/armor. Magi seen them running through and out of portals wearing the armor, very often worn out tired when coming back. The screen was wiped away and a new one popped out, which caught Magi’s attention. The screen softly glow as it showed a naga monster, probably 10 or 15 feet tall with a long snake tail. The monster bares four arms with attached dragon wings on the back arms, and feathery bird-like wings on the lower part of the shoulder. Four eyes glared towards the camera of the screen, golden-dark markings were written on their muzzle and going down through their sharp fangs and popping teeth. Ear fins and feathers on top of their head were spread out, in an attack position. A feathery chest popped out with golden feathers scattered throughout the whole body. The Red bot stared at the Snake. And they were smiling at him, excitement in their eyes. Artsy began to chatter up a storm, gesturing to themselves and to the monster on screen. Their metal flouting wings were out and fluttering behind as Artsy continue admire the design.

“Moooo….” Magi turned around, seeing the bull stirring up awake and looking at the two at the pedestal. His ear went up in confusion and began to stand up, shaking the tiredness off of him. The bull yawned and slowly flapped his wings, lifting off and slowly glided towards him.

“.-.. --- --- -.- / .-- .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / -.. .. -..!!” Magi shouted, looking at Artsy, who stuck out their tongue and shrugged. The Magic Bot carefully watched Plushie as he safely landed at the edge of the pedestal.

Artsy clicked their tongue and ignored Magi, scrolling through more into the file where, what they assumed, their own armor is settled. Within the same file, lays many other drawn out designs, including Plushie’s current bot form. Magi shook their head, but sat down. At least they’re not harming anything. The two youngest bots began to look at the files, being amazed at the creation of both avatars’ creation powers. Hours flew by, a few naps from Plushie, until a small alert rang out.

Magi glanced down at the current time, sneaking a glance at the currently colored dark red avatar's seat.

“ 3:24 PST AM; 5:24 CST AM; 6:24 EST AM”

‘On time’ Magi thought as small dark red glowing pixels and thread flowed down at the chair next to the pedestal. It began to clustered together until it constructed a human body, then as the body was forming, colors was filling in. Small body laid across a custom chair, their back facing them. The familiar avater excited the snake, as they beeped and clicked very loudly. A small sigh can be heard, as the body turned around and eyes staring at the three bots.

“...Morni’..” They groaned, rubbing their face on the arm of the chair, sighing awake. Artsy continued to shout, pointing at the files. They happily stared at the bots, then spoke, “Give me….10 minutes….”

Artsy huffed and slithered close to the edge, spreading his arms apart to show their dragon-like wings. They flapped their arms, plus their steel wings. No matter how much effort, the small snake can’t lift up from the platfort. Magi huffed in laughter, then opened his own wings, followed by Plushie opening his own in small. The bot slowly lifted up the ground, and wrapped his flouting arms around Artsy. They huffed but complied as Magi lifted them up into the air. Despite having no ability to fly, Magi can see their wings flapping up and down, like Artsy is trying to help.

After a short flight, Magi landed Artsy on the edge of the chair. They hooked onto the avatar’s current clothing and climbed up to the shoulders.

Once settling a sturdy platform, Artsy took a deep breath then shireked a loud high pitch computer like sound.

“OH GODS!” The avatar startled awake, and scaring Artsy, The Avatar took a few breathes in and out, and a sigh escaped, “I swear to the gods, I’m going to mute you.”

How threaten those words were, a tone of happiness can be heard. The small teen adjusted their position on laying on their back on the chair. Magi looked at Plushie, who was too excited seeing the avatar awake. Magi waved to him to join in and not a moment too late, Plushie run into the air and flew towards the small grouping.

“Mornin’ you three. Just checking in.” They said, petting Artsy then at Plushie. When Magi flew closer to the avatar, they lean towards them and gave a affection lean for a few seconds to them. The moment was quickly erased as the avatar looking at the still actived Pedestal.

“What...Why is that open?” They asked, looking at them three. Immedality, Plushie and Magi pointed at Artsy, who at responded pointed at Magi. When looking at the resulted, Artsy gasped and waved their arms at Magi, while looking at the avatar. Not knowing what’s the small Drawbot is saying, they knew it was them.

“I’m not mad, my friend. Just don’t mess with the settings, I don’t want our recent spawn point to be a swamp or in the enemy's territory.” They said, petting Artsy with their finger. Artsy glared at the red bot, sticking out their tongue and huffed.

“CR3471V3!” Artsy shouted, their voice glitchy and echoy, but got the message through.

“Daww… So close!” The dark red avatar, Tokuranger named Creative, awed.

“MOO!” Plushie copied Artsy, looking at Creative and flapped his wings. They laughed and pulled up a sound file. With a press of a button, a familiar bull man’s voice pulled through, shouting in victory, “MOO!”

Plushie stood on all fours and bounced in excited, his tail following the bounce and his wings flapping up and down. Though, with a nice scene, Creative held back a wince from their lower stomach. “Calm down. To be honest, i'm here to check on you guys before,” Creative took a deep sigh and groaned out the next word, “SCHHHOOOOOOLLLL.”

The two oldest knew the concept of School in Reality, and from the Downer talks at nights between the four avatars, it's important and stressful business. Artsy nodded and slithered down to the seat of the chair where a space was left aside. “Would you mind if you could close and check the settings, Magi? I’m running late.”

Magi happily nodded and opened his wings as in to get ready. Creative smiled at them and waved goodbye, disappearing like as they arrived. Magi did as he was told, and flew over to the Pedstal.

“N000000!” Artsy shouted again, waving his arm in the air as Magi flew to the flouting screen.

“-. ---” Magi repeated back, looking at the files and closing all the tabs and files. He looked over to the recent spawn point for Creative and their current green tokuranger, Heartist.

KYUI-10,19,8903

Magi nodded at the numbers, ‘Seem about right’ then closed it off. He turned to look at Artsy, seeing that Plushie was coming back to the pedestal.

“..-. .-.. -.--” Magi taunted. Artsy huffed and crossed their arms, curling their tail into a bean-bag like chair. Magi laughed, and intimidated a mother rocking a child in their arms back and forth. Artsy hissed at the magic bot but continued to glare. After minutes went by, Artsy sighed and moved towards Creative’s chair personal Control Panel, which covers Creative’s personal things on their computer and mobile. Hitting a button, a large screen similar to the Main Control Panel popped up.

“.- .-. - ... -.--” Magi said, glaring at Artsy as they began to fiddle around with the CP. Only getting a response of a raspberry from the naga snake.

~offline

Magi turns his head to the side, turning his gaze to the gray void’s ceiling. He sigh and sat down, crossing his legs. Plushie flatten his ears and slowly walked up the bot. Plushie whine at him, before the red color of Magi started to slowly fading away. The bull kneeled next to the bot and looks up at Magi. From time to time, the original creators of the Bots, most often either Artsy and Magi, takes down the Bot’s AI and does repairs or update. Artsy glanced over the pedestal and saw Plushie taking another nap and waiting for Magi to get back online. ‘Repairs, maybe 10 minutes…’ Artsy shrugged, knowing that often if it’s new updates then the bot physically goes offline, fading into pixels into the air back to the Dev’s server.

“M440000VV…” Artsy mimic Plushie’s moos, gaining the bull’s attention. He huffed a laughter, his shards attached around his furry neck shone and gleamed with the glowing of the Control Panel.

“Mooaoww.” Plushie repeated.

Artsy giggled at the childness of Plushie and carefully moved files and programs of the CP. They opened a few scenery screenshots of the newly drawn planets for a certain Space Team that the four avatars often go. A snow covered forest, swamp, a large village in the middle of the desert. One of many things that all of the Avatars have created. Artsy pulled up one of the planet’s scenery, the thick vines tangling the thick trunks of the trees. A few detailed bugs flying through the grass and flowers. Artsy scooted back and admire the work.

Their eyes fluttered down, soften his expression into a deep thought. It’’s been months ever since entering the chat. The only times the bots can ever experience anything other than the official grayscale colors of the Void Chat, are when one of the Avatars change the environment. To a big field with the grass dancing with the wind, to a small cave. But that only last a few minutes or hours, until they return back to Reality. The snake look back up to the drawn scenery, and sigh.

“...)(M?” Artsy perked up as another screen popped up, the color gray slowly gain color. Codes and sequences began to fill the empty notepad. With the rapid coding, the only thing that Artsy caught a glimpse of is his monster design's file overriding his own current design. Then the button above the notepad popped up, glowing a solemn blue. “Begin Application”

Even going closer to the CP, they hoisted their body ontop of the chair arm where the CP didn’t reach. They placed their hand onto the mouse pad and carefully navigated the mouse to the button, where the icon turned into a hand. Artsy glanced at Plushie, where he successfully intranced in his nap, and where Magi sat stilly. They turned back to the notepad and looking at the notepad. It’s only the end of the coding, where its typed;

12076 scene.begin 12077        event.command(:getdb) do I event I 12078                 break unless event.channel.id == VCCHNNEL 12079                 file = File.open(tj.plntstrt) 12080                 event.channel.send_file(file) 12081  end 12082 12083 12084     creative.1017s.run   12085             bot.run

‘....What event…’ Artsy scooted up, sliding his claws up to scroll up. It was supposed to a simple search around the Creative’s file, but something else caught his wing to stop. What it took to turn this simple fiddling around into something more, is with a small pinch. Artsy whimpered and backed away from the source his tail slipping, then a

*blinp*

Artsy rolled off from the arm of the chair into the center, hissing at the pinch which slowly turn into a burn. They rose their arm to examine their wing. Where the small pinch were, it left a very noticeable three holes, slowly oozing black glitchy pixels. Their eyes snapped to a hiss, to a small black and purple monster, their back into a mechanical form while their legs were smokey purple body.  It’s eyes narrowed and hissed, jumping down to the ground floor. Artsy shouted and slithered to the edge, spreading his wings to glide down, but only to be stopped by a force suddenly surrounding the chair.  Artsy hissed and whimpered, rubbing his snout and looking up, seeing the force field slowly pulsing into a blue color.

“01010000 01001100 01010101 01010011 01001000 01001001 01000101!!” Artsy screamed, banging onto the field, hoping to wake up the bull or the resting bot. Before they knew it, everything turned into a white screen, a buzz can be heard.

*FOOSH*

Plushie jolted awake, springing himself to all fours. His eyes darted everywhere until it landed onto the Creative’s Chair. The CP slowly dimmed down to the light. Where once the older snake, there was nothing but their monster design on the leftover flouting screen.

Unknownname.exe ONLINE

Creative101.file OFFLINE

‘Did...did they enter one of the universe's…’ Plushie’s face drained out of color, as he kicked himself into the air back where Creative’s chair was. He landed right ontop of the CP and turned it back on, only to see codes being activated, sequences going through their routine, but nothing on Artsy. Plushie whimpered in worry and looked back at the offline Magi. Plushie shouted a ‘MOO’ at Magi, looking at the black screen. He has seen these things before, when the avatars go to the universe and only one stay in the Void Chat for support. Plushie shook his head and flew back at the MCP. The bull plushie continues to try and wake up the bot.

“Hisssss….” The small virus bat hissed above it, eyeing the bull bot going back and forth, his cries echoing within the void. Time to wait…

It lays itself to the ground floor and wrapped their dimly glowing wings around itself, shrinking into the shadows.

[theabsentmindedwander]

Lab Buddies - Broken Memories

(Short fanfic of @fighteramy  ‘s lab buddies)

Lewis flipped out his phone, checking the caller id. Just another scientist, he answers it quickly. “Yes?”

“S-sir theirs... been a problem...”

“With what? You know you people are supposed to fix this stuff before it becomes a problem. What did you do?”

“W-we can't fix it... it's Simon sir... You should come down here quickly.”

“What happened?” Lewis says, beginning to jog down the hallway quickly.

“It's his memories, sir... There was a problem with the cloning and memory machine. He... He doesn’t remember you at all sir.” Lewis drops his phone and runs at full speed. He enters the cloning room and sees Simon looking around. He seems fine...

“Simon?” Simon looks over, giving him his usual friendly smile. Lewis begins to get a wave of relief before Simon speaks again.

“Oh hello, nice to meet you.”

No. Lewis thought to himself. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. “Simon don’t you... remember me? It's me your old pal, Lewis.”

 “Hmm... No, I don’t remember anyone named Lewis.”

“Simon...” Lewis crouches on one knee so their eye-to-eye. “Are you sure? Look me in the eyes, Simon, try to remember. Please.”

Simon looked deep into Lewis' eyes, the bright blue eyes wide with worry. “I’m... sorry but I really don’t Lewis. You must have me mistaken for another dwarf, with our beards covering our face it's easy to confuse us.”

No, Lewis would never confuse Simon with someone else. Not after all they’ve been. Lewis stands quickly. “I... have to make some calls.” Lewis turns away, to hide the remorse on his face. Leaving the room and only leaving a single teardrop behind on the floor.

-=+=-

“What do you mean there's nothing you can do!” Lewis yells at Lal.

“I mean what I mean Lewis, it's a critical failure. The failure is a large one, I’m afraid none of Simons clones will have his memories. The only real Simon you have left is in there.” Lal motions to Simons master clone is the cloning tube. “You’ll have to find a way to work around this or give up on him sir.”

Lewis suddenly grabs Lal by the collar, pulling him down slightly so they're at eye level. Lewis eyes having lost most of its blue now, replaced with a bright red. “Do not EVER even imply giving up on Simon again.  I will not have this shit from you Lal, I don’t care who I have to redact to get him back.” He throws Lal to the side. “Get out of my sight.”

Lal leaves the room quickly, realizing Lewis would only give up on everything Lal is and has for the chance of having Simon back. Lewis places his hands on the cold cryo tube that holds Simon. His old pal. He rests his forehead on it, closing his eyes. “Simon... Can you hear me? I’m... sorry for everything I've done. I’m sorry for all the lies. For all the horrible things I’ve done and hid from you. I’m sorry for not spending more time away. But I’m more sorry about what I’m about to do.”

---===+===---

Security guards and the scientists rush into the cloning bay having heard the alarm and come into a shocking sight.  Two broken tubes, The original Simon beginning to wake up tight in Lewis’s hug. And the broken tube of Lewis, a bright blue sword shoved deep into the master clones heart pinning him to the back of the cloning tube.

[The End]

[poetry-is-for-nerds]

Why

WHY AM I STILL AWAKE he inquired after attempting to watch doctor who, failing, attempting to watch YouTube, failing, scrolling through social media for an hour or two, and listening to music while still scrolling social media, and then writing a tumblr post whining about staying up too late writing tumblr posts and such

[imgonnaacethis]

[..] Namjoon was laying in his deathbed. All the members were standing around him to say their last goodbye. He was staring at the open window, barely conscious. Suddenly, after he had been staring for what seemed to be a long time, he moved his head, looking at the members around him. He knew his time was close "Any last words?" said Hoseok, tearing up at the sight of his friend and leader about to leave them. Namjoon opened his mouth slightly and started talking using the last energies he had in his body "J....Jimin" he said with a feeble voice "You got no jams"

[not-amber-schmidt]

I'm finally posting something I write again.. I wrote it at 1 am with no wifi so hopefully my knowledge didn't fail me but first here's what you need to know

A) magic exists here. B) cinder refers to her husband as a king and a count even if they're both different. The rest I'll explain after to avoid spoilers ^^ maybe we can get @morallygreyprompts to let me know what they think. (Go follow them as they're one of the best writers on tumbrl

All was silent in the small Roman city, it seemed as if the buildings themselves had slipped into a deep slumber. The full moon shone down on the empty streets, illuminating even the deepest alley way, exposing all to the pale enchanting glow.  It seemed magical, a night where anything could happen, a night where even the buildings seemed to relax their diligent watch for just this special night.

The silence was only disturbed when a heart wrenching cry of pure animalistic agony sliced through the seemingly magical night, forcibly yanking the curtain of slumber that had coated the city like a soothing blanket.

  The cry ceased as suddenly as it had began, the city seemed to hold its breath as the silence was disturbed by the soft click of boots on cobblestone that slowly faded away from the scene of the crime...

                                                 ★★★

Cinder knew she was dying, but this felt different, not like how it normally felt when she died. To her it seemed like the warmth of her body was slowly seeping out and pooling onto the cobblestones of the moonlit alley. She tried to replay the events of what happened in her head, trying to figure out why her abdomen  felt like it was on fire. It was an unusual pain, it felt deeper and as if something burning had been plunged into her, but that couldn't be right... Could it? It was hard to tell, her mind was growing fuzzy. Cinder was dimly aware of the sound of someone running towards where she lie on the cobblestones, try as she might her head just wouldn't turn. It felt too heavy to lift, but it oddly didn't bother her at this point in time, nothing did really.

    As she pondered this chain of thought she became aware of someone kneeling beside her. Something odd happened next, the fire in her abdomen seemed to be pulled out as someone pressed hard against the place where her warmth was seeping out of.

  Her silver eyes slowly drifted to the panic stricken face of her husband and king. He was telling her something, but cinder couldn't hear it over the gentle rushing sound that was slowly filling her ears. A hand squeezed the shoulder of her king, someone else was there as well in that moonlit alley, she couldn't see who it was, nor could she hear them as the rushing was getting steadily louder.

    Confusion crossed her mind as she finally noticed the tears that silently slipped down her husband's cheeks. Cinder wanted to comfort him, to tell him she'd be ok, but her lips wouldn't seem to open. It was slowly occurring to her that maybe the reason he was crying was because something bad had happened. She felt a gently hand on her head, as curious as this made cinder she didn't have long to ponder it before sharp clarity filled her mind. It was startling, like the first gasp of air after surfacing from a freezing lake and suddenly it all made sense.

    Cinder was dying, Janos, her own brother, had told her he had a solution to her "curse". But when she went to the alley he had stabbed her in the gut then left her to die.

         " M..my count.." Cinder managed to choke out despite the blood slowly filling her throat. She felt sharp pinpricks in her eyes before warmth slipped down the corners of her eyes and into her hair. "Where.. Where do I go so I may.." She paused to swallow the rising blood "so I may meet you in the afterlife..?"

 She felt a gentle hand caress her cheek as he gave her a sad smile, tears silently slipping down his cheeks.  "Go to heaven my Queen.. I shall one day reunite with you there. This is your last order, please do not fail me"

    He kept caressing her cheek soothingly as the gentle hand on her head pulled away and the rushing once again filled her ears. Magic had allowed her to hear her count's last words, but it couldn't save her life this time.

       The last thing Cinder Schmidt saw and felt was her husbands gentleness.As the life slowly faded from her body she knew that marrying her king had been the best choice she made in her long life. Her only regret was she hadn't spent more time loving him.

-The end of "A kings last order"

Ok so here's what should help this make sense

In Cinder's universe magic can help give strength and that's how she managed to speak and hear her last order, two) my buddy who RP's with me (and is Catholic) as agreed that cinder would be given the choice to go to heaven or hell due to the fact that neither would really be fitting for her to go too. Three) yes, this is a fan fiction. Four) Janos (her brother) is one of the few who could permanently kill cinder (despite what she is.. This is one if the rules I made three years ago and it remains *shrugs*)

Maybe I'll post a prequel? We'll see what you guys want... Sorry if it sucks, it's the first story I've written in a few months (and at 1 am to boot XD)

[madigoat-blog]

I found this poem I wrote a long time ago and it goes like this:

I ate a pie,

and another,

so I just cry.

yay I like pie,

and your face doh,

so I ate it,

nom nom nom nom,

muhahaha.

I’m just confused much,

lololololol,

so I’ll sit right here,

lololololol,

bye bye forever,

lololololol.

can I just not,

I can’t even,

what the heck gurl,

ugh whatever,

lampost lolol.

bruh,

wat da hek,

i hatchoo,

bruh,

go dye in a hol.

wat dat huh bruh?

your mom

lololol

your face

lololol

i’m so clever

lololol

go eat a cactus,

go step on a lego,

go punch a tree,

just go.

ugh dee bug

go chew on a mug

bug dee ugh

yay bacon

wow beautiful

oop a bird

DIE

ooh grass

ooh bacon

oh wait food

no bacon

ooh squirell

drive straight 438ft into the lake straight ahead.

you’re at your final destination

*car locks, seat belts tighten, windows roll down…*

[lovelylogans]

hi!!! it's whydidIwritethis from ao3! i finally made a tumblr for one of my fics (its an ask blog lol) but i wanted to say hi!!! my name is Roman btw!!

hi, roman!!!

[susan-the-owlbear]

My mother said she didn't see them.

She lied.

My father said there was nothing there.

He was wrong.

There were. And are.

Teeth. 

They're everywhere.

You can't see them.

But they still exist.

You're touching them.

They can feel you. 

Can you feel them?

Don't worry.

They shouldn't hurt you.

They can't.

Don't be afraid.

The teeth can't hurt you.

[150mg-zoloft]

what if the sky tastes like hotdog water?

[severequeen]

hi!

just a smol bean doing something I enjoy :}