#all of atlas' shards hear it.

[sae-mian]

The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow, No rain fall, no sunshine, No blood upon the snow-

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript:

Phoenix: You ready for this? You look nervous. Atlas: Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about that actress that got stabbed yesterday. You hear about that? Her name was Reese something… Phoenix: Witherspoon?

Atlas: No, with her knife. Phoenix: [sighs] Excuse me.

Dawn: Ahhhppffttt! Gahh, Atlas!! Atlas: Sorry, sis, but you shouldn’t break promises.

Dawn: You got snow up my nose. Phoenix: I warned you. Dawn: Did you laugh at least? Phoenix: No.

Dawn: But you wanted to, didn’t you? Phoenix: That’s not the point.

Kiyoshi: Alright, are we ready?

The group begins climbing, with Kiyoshi coaching them. Eventually, Kiyoshi climbs up and over the top. Phoenix follows behind him. While the twins begin climbing up, Phoenix steps over toward the edge to watch Dawn.

Kiyoshi: Hey Phoenix, not so close to the edge. Come over here, man.

When Kiyoshi calls over to him, the words ‘Phoenix’ and ‘edge’ echo in his ears, and he hears a distant voice yell at him. He’s overcome with a sense of dread as the yelling becomes louder. His heart starts to pound in his chest, and his ears start to ring. The ringing turns to screaming as more voices come together in a chorus of terror. He rips off his beanie and goggles and stumbles to the ground, gasping for breath. The world starts to spin and close in around him. The screams recede briefly before bursting forth, shattering reality into a million tiny shards that become a million voices yelling, screaming, each one on top of the other, consuming him. And then everything goes black.

Through the darkness he feels a cold hand on his cheek, and another on his chest.

?muffled voice?: It’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe.

He focuses all his energy on the hand on his chest as he follows their instruction.

?????: Breathe in [inhales] and out [exhales] in [inhales] and out [exhales]

Slowly, the voices begin to fade, and his heart begins to slow. He opens his eyes to see Dawn kneeling over him.

Dawn: Welcome back. Phoenix: I’m sorry. Dawn: It’s okay. You’re okay. Can I get you anything?

Phoenix: Earbuds. In the front pocket of my bag. Dawn: I was thinking more like water, but sure. Phoenix: Thanks. I just need a few minutes. Dawn: Okay. We’ll be right over there.

Dawn: He’s alright, just needs a minute. Atlas: Have you ever seen him like that before? Kiyoshi: Once, when we were at a bar in town and a fight broke out, but that was a couple years ago. Our friend Aurelio was there. He seemed to know what to do, so I stayed out of it. Atlas: Hm. Hope he’s okay. Dawn: Me too.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

You don't know when you fell asleep or how but that's largely unimportant, what is important is the contents of your dream. For as long as you can remember, you've been having basically the same nightmare every night with the occasional slight variation.

A city in ruin, streets empty and weed-choked. There you were in the center of it all, surrounded by destruction that you could do nothing to stop. Not the end of the world, but the End-of-Everything, the Mother of all Cataclysms.

The sky turned into a green-gold mirror, broken, reflecting everything that ever was and everything that would ever be within shards of Dreams that fell like verdant rain and distorted the landscape around you as they crashed haphazardly to the ground like glass meteors, shattering on impact. 

Before you normally stood a Nameless Thing, many headed and serpentine. 

But not tonight.

Tonight you're somewhere different, somewhere neat and clean with smooth tables covered in half completed board games and mindless crayon scribbles barely confined to their papers.

Black walls and bowling alley carpet full of triangles and zigzags, no ceiling though, just void. A stranger sits perched on a nearby armchair, sipping tea and humming a familiar song under his breath.

His skin is a darker brown than yours, the top half of his face obscured by large circular purple shades, kinky-curly-bedhead-spikey yellow hair sticks out from underneath the brim of his top hat. Instead of a tie, a well behaved atlas moth sits at the hollow of his throat, the human eyes on its wings blinking wetly.

"Y'got a name kid?" Says the stranger without moving his mouth, he drops a handful of dream pearls into his cup and watches the spoon stir itself.

"... Jack." You glance around like a cornered animal looking for a way out before it has to resort to violence.

"Jack? You look more like a [nickname], can I call you [nickname]?" The stranger asks, taking a sip of his tea, a singular yellow eye glows at you from behind the lenses of his shades.

The sound [nickname] makes isn't a word, or really a sound? It's the absence of both, but hollowed out from... something both tangible and intangible so you're left hearing the shape of where something Was.

"No, and how the fuck are you doing that with your mouth?" Your skin itches like there's something underneath it.

He's suddenly in front of you now; floating a few feet off the ground, cane in his hands, cup hovering where he left it. The moth at his throat looks at you with something like pity, something like sorrow, and something like jealousy in its horrible eyes.

The stranger just smiles at your question, golden fangs and yellow stained teeth glistening with wetness that might be spit but probably isn't. "[Nickname] you of all people should know how I think."

"Who are you?" Your skin crawls, inside and out of the dream. Hackles raised as you edge away from the stranger without meaning to, he offers a hand to shake in a way that SHOULD have be friendly but most certainly was not.

"Most folks call me Bill, but you can call me Zilch, your friendly neighborhood oneriophage."

You look at his hand like it might jump off his wrist and bite you, Zilch waggles his fingers bonelessly and changes the colors of his claws as if that will tempt you into touching him.

"You're a Cipher."

"That I am! In fact I'm the resident Cipher of this misbegotten corner of the multiverse, nice to meetcha kid." He wiggles his fingers again.

"What do you want?"

"Bold of you to assume I want anything other than to stop by and say hi." Another smile

"You're a bad liar Zilch."

"Well... at least I CAN lie!"

"What do you want?" Your eyes narrow.

"I'm bored and you look fun to play with, so how's about I help you with your boy trouble?" Zilch waves his hand and a pixelated version of your husbeast idles on his palm before vanishing.

"I don't make deals with demons."

"I mean, you MARRIED a demon and marriage is very much a legally binding deal between two consenting individuals." Zilch gives you a Look over the rims of his shades. "You're cute and all, but I'm not planning on taking an arrow to the knee any time soon so let's just shake on it and get this over with."

"Let me clarify," your ears flick with annoyance. "I don't and WON'T make deals with YOU, any alts of you, or you adjacent entities."

Zilch pretends to swoon, growing another set of arms just to clutch them to his chest as if he'd been shot there. "Oh [nickname] you WOUND me! I'm not like those other Bills and deep down you know that..."

"Do I?" You say, deadpan.

"You do! I know you do! Believe me, I just wanna help." Zilch bats his luscious yellow lashes for emphasis. "Sometimes I wish someone could have shown up and miraculously saved my relationship like this, then maybe Sixer would still be with me." A single pitch black tear rolls down his cheek as he sniffles.

"I'll pass."

"C'mooooon, it doesn't have to be a full deal, how about just a little widdle pinkie promise?" Zilch holds out his hand again, pinkie extended and other fingers curled.

"I said no."

"D'aww, someone thinks they've got a choice." He tilts his head, the corners of his smile stretching so far they disappear into the corners of where his eyes should be. "I'm gonna give the people what they want, whether you like it or not." Zilch taps his cane once on the ground and the floor beneath you vanishes.

You reach up without meaning to, and Zilch grabs your hand as if trying to save you; your joined hands wreathed in blue flame, your skin melting away like wax, the metal beneath it starting to glow with the heat. Zilch takes off his shades with an extra hand and grins down at you, the entire right side of his face is made of teeth and eyes and abyss that chatters and whispers and cries.

"It's showtime!"

[riah-yorke-lex]

Spoilers for Sonic Prime, like all of it.

^^^^^^^^^^

Sonic has ADHD and Nine has autism.

I mean I know the regular headcanons for Sonic and Tails are already there, but hear me out.

Neurodivergent people have trouble communicating a lot of times and miscommunicate.

Btw I have both, so I’m just speaking from my own experience.

Both characters are flawed. Sonic has lost his entire home and friends. Nine never really had friends and prefers to be alone.

Anyone who wants to say Nine is a villain can leave my page.

It’s a kid’s show, and Nine is the second most important character. The writers won’t kill him off or make him pure evil. Sonic will make up with everyone and find ways to save everyone in the end. Sorry to ruin suspense, but it is a kids show. I’m not saying that means it can’t have awesome character arcs. (ATLA has awesome character arcs, betrayal and redemption + lots of dark elements, but none of the main characters DIED)

Nine will probably cause something bad to happen in his rage, constructing something dangerous with the shards or he’ll cause the entire council to come after him, or both. Nine might cause something bad to happen and then feel guilty and help Sonic. If sonic can find a solution that doesn’t destroy those living in the shatter spaces, then Nine would probably come around. I don’t think Sonic realizes the consequences of his actions.

And that’s just the thing. Sonic jumps into every situation without thinking it through, something which irritates everyone around him. Meanwhile, Nine is incredibly methodical and thoughtful in his approach. Nine is driven by LOGIC while Sonic is driven by EMOTIONS. Not to say Nine doesn’t have emotions and can’t lose control, as we will likely see in S3. However, it’s generally how their brains work.

Sonic is gullible and falls into lots of traps. He isn’t all that smart. He’s good at thinking on his feet, but he often doesn’t think before he leaps into something. Shadow did mention about how the people in the shatterspaces aren’t real or whatever. He means that if they just put the prism back together, all those variants will cease to exist since they are all just different parts of the originals. Sonic sees them as real people though, and wants to help them, but he also desperately wants his reality back. He doesn’t realize that Nine would likely cease to exist if he simply put the prisms together. This would devastate sonic if he found out.

Nine is very rational in his actions. He doesn’t feel he can trust anyone as he has been traumatized by the world he grew up on. He longs for a place of solitude, a place he can go to whenever he needs to be away from everyone. He’s rather sit in his own head with his inventions. He wants Sonic to join him here because Sonic is the first friend he ever had. He intentionally doesn’t tell Sonic everything, because he has thought this through. He hopes Sonic will see his side and see him as a real person and not just another version of Tails. Sonic has an issue of projecting his vision of Tails onto Nine. He does it because he misses Tails. I know Sonic, DOES respect Nine as his own person, but Nine does not understand that, and Sonic, not thinking before he speaks, says something hurtful. Nine can come across as selfish, but all he wants is a safe place. As a neurodivergent person, that is so relatable. Sonic’s safe place is Green Hill, and he wants its back. From what we know (although I’m sure they’ll find a solution where everyone can live, again, it’s a kids show), those two things cannot coexist. If Sonic realizes this, he’ll realize he has to sacrifice his shatterapace friends to get Green Hill back, and is that a good thing after all? Nine is scared for his life basically, as he might not exist anymore. It’s a very valid fear.

They didn’t communicate their needs to each other because they were in the middle of fighting the council and didn’t have time to think it through, plus Sonic is impatient and also bad at communicating.

Nine is NOT a villain. He’s a traumatized autistic kid who has trouble thinking with other people’s needs in mind. Sonic wants to help EVERYONE, even people he doesn’t like much like Dread and Shadow, but he doesn’t consider the wider consequences of his actions.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[honeycollectswhump]

Gone, gone

[masterlist]

CW: accidental self-harm-like actions, suicidal ideation (NOT acted upon), blood, emeto, loss of a friend, mental breakdown, referenced: substance abuse, pet whump recapture

The plates are the first thing she sees. She had set the table and prepared dinner. The sauce is still in the pot, now cold. Aveline should put the pot aside, clean away the remains of what was supposed to be their meal. She doesn’t. 

The plates are the first thing she sees, and she tears them down. She swipes over the table, not stopping as they shatter on the ground. Gone.

The glasses are next. Intricate, little designs that once belonged to her old landlady. Aveline pushes her palms into the glass, crushing them until shards dig into her flesh. She doesn’t feel anything. Blood seeps into the tablecloth, that's how she knows, the knowledge just barely grazing her mind but leaving no impact. Gone. 

Tears blur her vision, as the grabs the cloth. A breath, then two. With a jerk, she rips and tears, cutlery clattering to the ground. Aveline claws at it. She wants it to hurt. It can never hurt, she can never hurt, but she wants to. 

This is pain, she thinks, this must be pain. 

A scream wrenches itself from her throat. Her voice cracks. She cracks. She is in her body and she is not. The sight of her home disgusts her, it destroys her. If she is loud enough she won’t have to hear herself. 

A glint of the sun against one of their pictures catches her eye. Aveline whirls around, cloth in hand, disoriented. She stumbles against the wall, the cloth getting caught on the frame, and she tears and tears and tears. 

The photo falls to the ground, breaking on impact. There is a crack over his face, there is a crack over Atlas’ face and he’s gone. Aveline stares at it, at the ruined picture, at what she’ll never have again. Gone. He’s gone.

The thought settles over her like a fog, taking over. Someone is screaming, she is screaming, and she’s breaking apart at the seams. Aveline yanks at the coffee machine and throws it across the room. It collides with a cabinet, the booming sound ringing through their empty house. Filling the silence between her screams, her sobs. Gone.

There are still shards stuck in her hand as Aveline lurches forward to retch into the sink, her ears filled with a deafening ring. Nothing but bile comes up but she feels like she can see pieces of her very soul laying exposed to the world, ugly and rotten, with fraying edges. Fat tears roll down her face, dripping down and mixing with droplets of blood. Gone.

Aveline crumbles to the ground, falling hard on her knees, barely registering the impact that will leave her with bruises she will never be able to feel.

It doesn’t make sense! 

Atlas was supposed to go out for a short walk, he was supposed to come back just in time for dinner. He didn’t even take his phone with him. 

They told her he’d run away, like he did before, from his old life. But Aveline knows, she knows, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t run without preparation, he’d take money with him, or a proper jacket or anything at all. 

They don’t trust him, they say there is no evidence. They say it’s to be expected of someone like him, someone like her Attie, especially with his addiction. 

He is six months sober now, but they don’t believe him or they don’t care. To them, it doesn’t matter how hard he worked to get to this point, how much blood, sweat and tears went into this. Atlas had fought to get bits and pieces of his life back, that his old Master had stolen from him. It would be all for nothing now. 

Atlas is gone, he was taken. 

And no one will do anything.

It hits her then, all at once. 

There is nothing.

There is no hint, no message, no reason. No evidence and no case. No one to turn to, no one to lead the search. 

He’s alone, she’s utterly alone and he’s gone. 

Gone. 

The moon rises. It takes a while for Aveline to notice the shift in light, to notice that the taunting sunset has given way to the cold moonlight. Distantly Aveline thinks her knees must hurt, her joints must be stiff. Time simply passes by her without touching her and it’s not like her body can tell her otherwise.

The blood has started to dry, sticking to her skin and clothes in clumps. She is barely there, her mind moving through a swamp of numbness. This must be pain and it will kill her. 

It will eat her from the inside out until there is nothing left and Aveline will welcome the bliss of nothingness with open arms. She can’t do this, she simply can’t. She can’t continue on with her life, as if nothing happened, can’t imagine a life without him, without her Attie. 

She wishes him back, begs for him, even if in his darkest days, high or drunk, she doesn’t care, she’d take it all if just to get him back. Having him back, anything would be enough.

Maybe she will die like this. Aveline contemplates never moving again, it has nothing left to give anymore. Maybe she will starve or die of thirst, maybe her heart will just mercifully stop beating. If it doesn’t, she could help, doing nothing but accelerating a natural process. 

Then he’d be gone and she would never have to feel this torment again because she’d be gone too.

Still, something inside her fights the thought, sending a spike of urgent desperation up and down her spine. 

Atlas, her Atlas isn’t dead. He is gone for her but he isn’t gone gone.

He would be if she gives up. He’d be gone, in the sense that he could never be there again if there isn’t someone fighting for him.

Someone has to do something.

It won’t be any law enforcement and it won’t be the Pet Lib shelter Attie told her about either, the one that had helped him become who he is now, doesn’t believe her or in him. Maybe she could ask around in Pet Lib groups but it’s not like Atlas ever gave her access to their resources and Aveline knows they are notoriously impossible to find for outsiders.

And what can a girl like her do anyways? She has nothing but her mind and her body and that can never be enough when all the world demands is money and power.

But there is no alternative, is there? If Aveline doesn’t do anything, then no one will, and then Atlas will be left all alone in whatever hell has claimed him. 

She is nothing without Atlas and maybe these feelings will pass but Aveline hopes they don’t. She holds onto the longing, the desperation, making her frantic, making her shake.

In the end, Aveline has everything to give. If she loses her mind or loses her body, it will be no different from now. And for now, it’s enough to help her get up, to help her move, even if she is just a tool to get her Atlas back.

taglist: @octopus-reactivated let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

[eriquin]

The Trolley Problem, part 47

It's been a while since I posted! Getting back to the story now. El is lost in the woods. Steve is grounded for the night, but Dustin left him a walkie so he got the word out. Someone should go look for her.

(master post)

Will was still up when his walkie started squealing. It was Dustin, contacting the whole party. Everyone was still up. He told them, in code, that El was missing. There was a beat of silence, and then everyone started trying to talk at once.

“I can’t believe that she’s lost in the woods again!” Mike said. “We have to go find her.”

“Steve said to ask Will’s brother for help,” Dustin said. “He said Jonathan could drive over there. Or that we should call Tommy. Over.”

Will put the walkie behind his pillow and poked his head out into the hall. Jonathan was home, but holed up in his room, listening to music. Mom was out in the living room, watching something on TV. He went back into his room and pressed the button to talk. “Guys, let’s think about this. She doesn’t know Jonathan. She knows us. Over.”

Mike was the first one to chime in with the same conclusion. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “We’ve got bikes and flashlights. We know the woods way better than they do. We could go find her.” 

“I don’t know, guys,” Dustin said. “It’s really late. Maybe we should just call Tommy instead. She knows Tommy. Over.”

“Tommy’s the one who said we should man up!” Lucas said. “We can do this!” 

“Tommy also said they were going to have her try to contact Eddie,” said Will. “They probably took her to his house. Does anyone know where it is? Over.” 

“Hold on a second,” Dustin said. “I can get a phone book. Does anyone know Eddie’s last name? Over.” 

Will remembered back to Sunday, when Tommy and Steve were arguing about Eddie. “It’s Munson, I think. Over.” 

“I’ll look it up. Back in a second. Over.” 

While Dustin was gone, Lucas suggested that they get ready to all bike to his house. He lived closer to the woods than either Lucas or Mike, but further from the lab than Will. Mike agreed and signed off, saying that he’d meet Lucas in his backyard so they could sneak away. Lucas only stayed on the line a little longer.

“Will, we could come get you,” he said. “Me and Mike could bike past Dustin’s to your house first, so you wouldn’t have to go through the woods alone.”

“No, it’s okay,” Will said. He had already started packing his bag. “I know the way. I’ll keep the walkie on so you guys can hear me, and the light on my bike will tell me if the demogorgon’s nearby. I can make it.” 

“Guys, I’m back,” said Dustin. “There’s a W. Munson that lives at 8 Hickman Drive. I checked the road atlas, and that’s in Forest Hills. It’s not that far from here. Over.” 

“Yeah, we’re on our way to you,” Lucas said. “The three of us are biking over. Will’s going to have his walkie on him. Over.”

“We’re really doing this,” said Dustin. “Okay. I’ll raid the kitchen. If she’s lost in the woods, she’s probably hungry. Over.”

“See you guys soon,” said Will. “Over and out.” 

He finished packing his bag. Eddie’s broken sword was still under his bed, and for a brief moment, thought about bringing the hilt with him. It had a jagged shard of metal sticking out from it, and would probably work as a dagger, but it had also broken on the monster’s skin. If the demogorgon came back, it wouldn’t do him any good. He decided to climb out of the window instead of trying to sneak out the back door. It didn’t take much for him to wheel his bike out far enough that Mom wouldn’t see him from the house, and then kick off and get going towards Dustin’s house. He flicked on his light and then his walkie once he got to the end of the driveway. 

His heart was in his throat the whole ride, but he got there in one piece, with no sign of the demogorgon on the way. Dustin met him in the driveway, and Lucas and Mike arrived a few minutes later. They all had full backpacks, flashlights, and all the things they needed to explore the woods. Lucas had even brought a knife and binoculars, saying that they were his dad’s, from ‘Nam.

They pulled their bikes into the side yard, so they wouldn’t be seen from the street, and hid behind the woodpile to talk. “Okay, so how are we doing this?” Mike asked. “How long has she been missing?” 

“It must have just happened,” Dustin said. “Because Eddie’s uncle was bringing her to his house to look for him. Maybe something happened and it spooked her.”

“Okay, then she’s probably close to Eddie’s house,” Lucas said. “How far is it?” 

Dustin pulled a map of Hawkins from his backpack and they looked at it with their flashlights. “It’s right over here,” he said, tapping a spot that was south of his house. “We could bike down Kerley, over to Field, and then back up Route 14 to get to it.”

“That’s basically going back to my house and around,” Will said. “It’d go near the lab.” 

“Yeah, that goes all the way around,” Mike said. He looked up towards the woods behind Dustin’s house. “It’d be faster to just walk through the woods to get there.” 

Dustin seemed spooked by the idea, swallowing hard as the flashlight shook in his hand. “There’s a literal monster in the woods right now, Mike.” 

“I know, but El’s there, too.” He held up his flashlight. “We stick together. If she sees our lights, she might come right to us, and then we can bring her home.”

“We can’t hide her in my house,” Dustin said. “My mom will definitely find her.”

“We’ll bring her to my house, just like we did in Steve’s story,” said Mike. “We’ll hide her in my basement. It’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, guys,” Dustin whined.

Will stood up straight. “We can do this,” he said. “Come on. No more debating it. Dustin, you have your compass and the map. You can make sure we stay on track. Let’s go.” 

Taglist: @neonfruitbowl.

[atlas-the-idiot-2]

Helloooooo, we're the strawberry system,, here's a sorta long intro post

First, our alters! With premade intros thanks to pluralkit!

(we're a system of 11 to our knowledge but will only be putting alters that are comfortable being known here/have proper intros)

★★★

Headmates

Mike (he/they/it)

»Things to be wary of/know: hello! I'm mike, I'm the main host if the system! I'm bisexual and on the aroace spectrum as well. I like long debates and talks, I'd like to say im pretty open minded as well. I like alternative rock, watermelon bubble gum, reading, writing, and musicals!

Macey (they/it)

»Things to be wary of/know: first up! Im fluid between he and she pronouns but i always use they/it pronouns! Now actually onto me! Im a bit scatter brained at times, my thoughts are like, alllll over the place! I swear a lotttt, i make lota typos at times so sorry if i mess up lolll! I like showing off, alternative rock, fast music, thrills, horror stories/true crime, and things like that! I swear a good amount too but I'm resisting just in this intro lmaoooo! I can also be rude or ramble sometimes! I hope i get to know lots of people!

All for one (he/him)

(yes, my source is mha, yes I'm aware, no i am not my source)

»Things to be wary of/know: i have low empathy so i wouldn't go to me for help on most subjects, I mainly front on harder days for the system or boring days, I don't say much to others, i can be a bit... Protective or cold at times, no I don't excuse my sources actions though i understand if some are hesitant to interact with me

Dreamwalker (it/he/they)

»Things to be wary of/know: I only really speak to the others in the system, though I'm down for long talks or debates, I'm not very open though i suppose

Atlas (they/she/he)

»Things to be wary of/know: hello, i am Atlas, I don't talk much to anyone. You probably won't meet me unless theirs a problem going on with us or someone's causing a problem.

Jewel (she/they)

»Things to be wary of/know: hiya, i mostly hold emotions i guess? So that makes me sorta sensitive in a way, i have high empathy as well, I'm very soft spoken as well and don't speak much so please be patient with me! Um, please use tone tags, I'm also a sorta slow typer

Rozie (she/they/xe)

»Things to be wary of/know: hiiiiii, I'm the more extraverted of the bunch, you'll probably hear lotsa stuff from me! That's it i think!

★★★

Stances

Syscouse: hooooo boy. We prefer not to interact with Syscouse too much because its generally a battle field but we are supportive of endos! We generally avoid anti endos too because they're very much less welcoming and don't feel as safe around them :)

We also block freely and will block almost all anti endos that actively participate in discourse so please block me as well :))

★★★

Extra info!

System type: cephaconscious

System origins: none of your business<3

Syscovery birthday: may 7th

Asking to front: no thank you!

Nicknames: depends on the person but mostly fine!

Pet names: only if we know each other pls!

Teasing: fine, pls make it clear (/j or teasing in parentheses!)

Dms/friend request: perfectly fine!

Flirting: ehhhh, again depends on the person, generally no

★Ways to refer to us★

Yes: system, voices, collective, council, alternatives, collection, plural, choir, headmate, sysmate, system member, homies, people, others, crew

Ehh: alters, multiple, gang, tribe

No: part, piece, shard

★★★

Thats it i think lmao! Byeeee

[retfarcyroeht]

Qorvex (Warframe) a quick look

(can you imagine if they gave this name to Citrine?)

Qorvex has good base health and armor; supplementing his shield gating and a decent energy pool.

+3 punchthrough on his passive synergizes with Containment Wall. Sounds really good for shotguns (Azima secondary fire also sounds like a revisit may need to happen)

Chyrinka Pillar's been disappointing some content creators but it's not a horrible power or even a bad one. It has two forms of crowd control; rad status effects and a slow... good duration and an okay base range for something you can have two of. Damage is not bad for a t1 support ability. It's definitely a defense/chokepoint ability; I wouldn't expect much more out of it than that.

It may be counterintuitive to have a cc (slow) on an ability that turncoats mobs (like the blind component of Breach Surge) but it still bumps up its own/your dps by converting trash mobs)

The line of sight may be an issue on certain maps but be less applicable in open world and roomy tilesets. I built to maximize range to start stacking those rad procs asap.

As a subsume, I'm not sure where I would go with this (outside of meming Wisp, Oberon, Atlas or Limbo)

Containment Wall is pretty fun; big wall smash type fun. It's a semi grouping tool (just lines up but doesn't bunch up mobs) that uses rad procs for its control, softens up mobs with damage vulnerability, does a bit of damage and doubles the dps of any pillers in its path for 5s (adjustable by duration mods). Strength modding to increase dmg vulnerability.

Disometric Guard - I hear that this isn't 100% status protection but it allows me to Bramma and Bubonico at point blank range, so I'm good. It's a persistent yet fluctuating buff; stay away from nullifiers.

Crucible Blast is an all or nothing "Combustion Beam"; works freaking great if there's a bunch of mobs that you can group up... not so much if mobs are scarce. Infuse (Piercing) Roar over Pillars and/or some Topaz shards to make this even more ridiculous.

Just my initial thoughts... nothing too in depth.

[ratmor]

My Weiss Schnee SI fanfiction

First chapter of Weissweise

or RWBY for one who didn't watch it

Doing the Stupid

Thoughts were quite mushy.

I propped myself up from the floor on my elbows and looked at the tense back of the big sis, who was covering me with her snowflake - the glyph - from the fire, opened by some freaks in masks. For some reason I remembered that this was my sister, though I'd never had an older sister in my life. For some reason I thought I was male, though I was wearing an uncomfortably short skirt and heels, and - I shifted my knees and rubbed the inner parts of my thighs against each other - there are absolutely no desired sex characteristics. This body thought it was a girl, until the very hit to the head as a result of these terrorists smashing the window in my favorite cafe, with a grenade at that. I was slightly carried away by the shock wave - it was a dust grenade... What does dust mean? We - and a bunch of civilians, of course - were saved by my sister's impeccable reaction. Snowflake - by the name of the Twins, it's a glyph, not a snowflake! - was a great way to protect, as it turned out.

"Winter," I whispered, and winced at the surrounding screams and wails.

There weren't just civilians here, Atlas specialists-huntsmen - who are the specialists-huntsmen? - they were shooting back hard, and some of them couldn't tolerate the sight of civilians with shrapnel wounds and went into close combat.

"Winter!" 

I said that louder and realized that my voice gained raspy quality, although it was very squeaky, compared to what I was used to... And what am I used to? 

"How long until the arrival of backup?"

She squinted at me and spoke through clenched teeth.

"They will arrive on the alarm beakon in three to five minutes, the police as well. You've been unconscious for over five minutes, so... Weiss, hide for now, okay? Don't do anything stupid!"

Her attention shifted back to the fight, she swore softly, and then fired summoned nevermores at enemies unseen. What the devil are nevermores? And what is the devil?

The big sis obviously took someone out, because I noticed her satisfied smile, and then she immediately disappeared from my sight.

Wow, the speed!

I leaned back, trying to sort out all this fantasy setting happening, while feeling terribly tired - it felt as if the best choice would be to continue lying unconscious. I also bumped the same place on my scull again, it had knocked me out before - was it just some kind of grenade that took off my aura so quickly?! - what the fuck is aura?!

I was ready to simply growl from the unknown of what was happening, my emotions, my thoughts - everything was mixed up. Here were feelings like the effects of green fairy, lifting the current mood and setting up a further positive feelings - I'm alive! Yes! I'm alive again! And there was a strange tearfulness and disturbance from helplessness - What to do? Civilians got hurt because of me, and so did the cafe. My father was right...

"Fuck father", I muttered, touching the bloody back of my head, on which my aura was already working, because the pain gradually dissipated. 

My eyes stopped on a frightened girl with a clearly noticeable red fluffy tail, in a waiter's apron, who, like all the other civilians, tried to flee somewhere, but apparently her injured leg prevented her. I kept muttering to myself - now I had a shock verbal diarrhea, so in the end, even if someone hears, they'll just have to understand, forgive and let it go. 

"Wow! There are furries here! This is plus hundred to will for life! Need to help. I'll just have to get up now..."

I groaned like some old granny, well, more like a pug, but the granny sounds better, then I got on all fours. The knees, in no way covered with anything but tights, did not like it, because the shards were everywhere. But my Aura was certainly enough not to get hurt... What the hell is this Aura? What the hell is hell?

"A-a-ah, bitch!" 

I tried to get up and doubled up, naturally, after a couple of steps in this crouched position, I was trying to make sure that these terrorists, who are already screaming in horror from my sister, by the way, did not notice me. 

"Oh, hello, pretty girl! How's your nothing?"

I obviously fell next to this canine girl, but she no longer listened to my questions that were too joyful for this reality. She gasped for air immediately after my "bitch", almost crying in shock. Of course, I didn't get it right away, but apparently she took it personally, that's weird.

"I'm not!" her voice was pleasant, not as hoarse as mine, but she was not that much sprinkled with plaster from the ceiling that fell down on me from the explosion. "Couldn't we just..."

"We could do anything honestly, but only after we, hopefully supporting each other, go through the back door. You have no concussion, and I got two legs. That okay?" 

I spoke confidently, without negativity, because I needed her to agree as soon as possible, and not to cause more circus.

I stretched out my little hands to her, and we half-bent and half-hopped after many civilians who had already left this place. You never know if what my sister said there was rational - any moron understands that staying at the same place in case of such an attempt on life would be suicidal.

After a couple of minutes of hobbling, this canine girl thought of something ridiculous and spat it out.

"You took me with you because it's White Fang, and they won't kill the faunus?"

I thought for about three seconds - I was still trying to grasp what she meant while I was consulting with an inner voice who exactly these faunus were - and rasped in her ear, almost growling with irritation.

"You don't know the terrorists very well, dear... Uh-uh... By the way, what's your name?"

"Mei. Mei Herd."

"Herd, you mean, like Feuer Herd?"

"Yes, this is my father's cafe."

"We will restore it," I said confidently and pressed her in this slightly gusty half-embrace to me, and her tail curled nervously around my arm. "I hope faunus don't flirt like that? Now is not the time, although I wouldn't mind much..."

With these words, I kicked the back door, briefly thinking that I would definitely change my wardrobe from skirts to pants, because suits are forever, and dresses lift up.

"Schnee!"

A masked guy tried to run me with a sword, obviously guarding the back door for just such a meeting - they let the rest of the civilians get out, it was a terrorist attack aimed specifically at our anti-Addams family... What the Addams had is much better, honestly, than the thoughts that come to me in response to these not-my-own-but-mine memories.

His hit didn't work out, because Mei turned out to have both the Aura and the Semblance, and it was apparently protection and strengthening of the body, extended to whatever or whoever she touched. My Aura level was still below the necessary, although I was not so shaky anymore. Apparently, this girl went to some Atlas combat school and therefore assumed in her much less clouded brain that we could be having some joyous meeting right at the exit of the building.

Unfortunately, this masked genius realized that this is not my feature - damn snowflakes - Glyphs! - Why is it so fundamental?! - they were quite visible when they did something magical. It's not magic! For me, everything that is not on the laws of physics will be magic!

I blinked, because I was a little carried away with my thoughts again, and instead of solving the questions of reality, for some reason I started a conversation with myself.

The tail disappeared from around my forearm. The girl already patched up her wound due to the fact that the shard passed her tangentially, because we had time to rest while we were limping towards the exit. So she decided to shield me with herself and try to start a conversation. She obviously still believed that they wouldn't try to kill her because of her faunosity or whatever, but I was less naive. I quickly threw my phone - a multifunctional scroll - on the floor behind me after I put it on the record. I felt it was important. This will prove the arse of all this terrorism in all its glory, and will probably become one of the hits in the destruction of this radical cell...

The girl got in huge trouble, because there was clearly the adult man with burning eyes and the Aura that was open for much longer than hers, but the epicest and most ingenious dialogue prevented the fight from ending in a couple of blows.

"She's a SCHNEE-E-E!"

Aw, I'm going to go so deaf, although it seems even from my vague memories, this is the first time I don't have to do anything at all to have money, except to agree with my father, and this is the only thing that will definitely be difficult for me to do... Why did they decide to attack his family? Don't they understand how this guy is? Even his real name translates as frostbitten or whatever, what else do they need to understand how he will not give a shit about the death of his daughters, as long as he has his own dick in his pants and a son who kisses his ass at every opportunity?

"She just carried me out of the building you blew up!"

Well, don't exaggerate, I'm blushing! But her face was contagiously inspired when she said it.

"Why are you defending her, you're faunus!"

The man dodged the girl's fist - she demolished a lamppost because of this dodge, and his sword tried to sweep off her hand, but once again the aura did not allow the maximum fcukery to happen - I have not yet seen the dismemberment today. Although, judging by the mood of this idiot, who didn't even think of calling for his colleagues - or was too proud to call - it's quite possible that everything could end with this dismemberment. Maybe not even mine? Although why do I have doubts, we're basically schoolgirls, so what could we be talking about here at all? It totally ends with bloodbath!

"Because she is a person!"

The dude's ass was blown by these words, and I realized that the PR team of the father of this body would kiss me wherever I point, if I wouldn't die here. Just for the sake of it, I will try not to die.

"Gra-a-a-a!"

Well, it's not a bighorn, but a bear - well, then let it be Ursa! What the hell is Ursa!

When I blinked, instead of the darkness of my closed eyelids, for some reason I saw a short flash of the image of that very Ursa in the photo in the scroll. Mine, by the way, continued to record, so... Then I did the stupid thing, I followed the girl who got flung into the wall, rushed to her even, and not to the enemy, like an honest to gods civilian idiot. That is why I received a blow from this masquerader a step before getting to her, but she waved her tail, as if expecting his actions, anticipating their simple direction. Her fluffy tail managed to touch my ankle.

I crushed on top of the girl anyway - she passed out, and for a moment it seemed to me that she was not breathing. That is why I quite justifiably lost my temper in a way that Weiss had never done before, in any case, such a feeling was new to both this body and myself, because Aura was an extremely unfamiliar concept... Anyway, I remembered at least that for sure!

Out of the corner of my eye, I realized that a snowflake, familiar to everyone but me, had formed behind my back - YES, IT'S A FUCKING SNOWFLAKE, SHUT UP! - and for some reason, the faunus who opposed me, instead of continuing the onslaught, spent precious seconds to grab his sword more tightly and move back... Heck! He decided to use his Semblance whatever it was, damn it! Come on, I already died before, I certainly don't like it, but judging by what I got here from my memories, this world is not the best place to enjoy culture and recreation, and being here without special qualities of a fighter is somehow not very safe, especially as an heir...

"What a nonsense!" I snapped, trying to stall for time.

For some reason, I felt cold from behind, and the man with the sword growled something indefinite, and for some reason his eyes widened, he shook his head strangely and then made some kind of indefinable face. I was getting carried away, and I was afraid of losing eye contact with my only spectator, so I was carried along all the ravines there were.

"We are all people, we are all being attacked by the grimm, you have just ruined one of those rare Atlas cafes where faunus are positively treated, simply because you wanted to get to me and my sister! How did you have the fucking audacity and stupidity?! This will only make the situation worse! What does it have to do with me at all? Are you an overgrown moron or are you pretending? I can see that you're twice my age!"

"You are SHNEE-E-E!" - the man finally found the rage he had been looking for all this time, lit up with his Aura, and rushed at me.

My own rage - from the understanding I will have to die again, and from the fact that the tail of my recent savior went limp, and she herself was right behind my back - my own rage solved the outcome of this clash.

I freaked out.

[atlaswestwood]

bathroom line | athena & atlas

for: @athenalefebvre​ location: party at the shard

Atlas could almost hear their parents warnings, telling them not to drink too much or partake in the party drugs that were on offer. But they weren’t here and she loved breaking rules. After the first hour, she could feel both the drinks and the party favours starting to work through her system. She felt light as she moved through the crowd, dancing along with the music and stopping to dance with a familiar face here or there. Even a few faces she didn’t recognise. Eventually the drinks caught up with her though and the bathroom called.

As with every party like this, the line for the women’s bathroom was long but it was easy to spark up a conversation. They were all there for a good night and everyone was feeling good. It made Atlas want to tell them all how pretty they were and she spent time complimenting each person that passed her in the line, praising their hair or lipstick colour here and there. Every compliment was sincere but Atlas also enjoyed seeing a girl’s face light up when they received the kind words.

When it was almost her time, she turned to see yet another beautiful woman behind her. “Wow you’re so pretty,” Atlas said. She was completely earnest in their compliment as they looked up at the other woman. “And I love that colour on you. It matches your eyes perfectly,” they said, making a chef’s kiss kind of motion.

[jmharper]

An Atlas of Deep Time

I am walking through a desert, on the bottom of the sea. A glint catches my eye. I stop and pick it up. White coral, a shard of a colony of creatures that lived here some 300 to 500 million years ago. I can’t comprehend how long ago that was. Yet by that time, 80 to 90 percent of earth’s history was already written in stone. This place where I’m standing now, wasn’t here at all. The earth beneath my feet was much closer to the equator, rotated 90 degrees on the north-south axis, and submerged under warm tropical waters. I am walking in deep time. 

An Atlas of Deep Time is grounded in my desire, amid the turbulence of human affairs, to hear the older, deeper resonances of the earth. The piece is scored for a large orchestra, arrayed in six instrumental choirs surrounding the listeners, and layered in six simultaneous tempos.  

Like the geologic layers of rocks beneath our feet, the densities and textures, the instrumental and harmonic colors are always changing, yet somehow the substance always seem to be the same.  

The earth is 4 billion 570 million years old. An Atlas of Deep Time lasts roughly 46 minutes, which equates to about 100 million years per minute. At that tempo, the entire history of the human family is represented in the dying reverberations of the last 25 milliseconds of this music.  

—John Luther Adams 

[starglitterz]

a special surprise for a special person!

feat; diluc, kokomi, sucrose, thoma, xiao x gn!reader

warnings; none

a/n; HI ATLAS MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW HAPPY BELATED BDAY !!!! :DDD ILYSMMMM IM SORRY THIS WAS LATE BUT I RLLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@xiaophobic !!!!! <3

a loud smashing sound echoes throughout the winery, the piercing noise ringing in the air. both the flower vase that has toppled to the ground and the silence are shattered, although the latter is quickly punctuated by hushed apologies. diluc groans, furrowing his brows as he wonders if this was even a good idea in the first place. sucrose is freaking out, "ah, could you p-please try to be a little more quiet? we're trying to surprise them..." thoma has bent down, quickly sweeping the shards into a bag he seemingly pulled from nowhere, "don't worry, i should be able to fix it in no time!" kokomi is as elegant as ever as she helps him dust it off, whispering, "do be careful, these pieces could easily cut you." xiao leans against the wall, his expression warding everyone away and giving the sense that he would rather be anywhere else rather than here right now. that actually wasn't true, xiao did want to be here, but he wasn't going to tell anyone else that, he had to ensure everyone maintained their respect for the adepti. surveying the strange group, diluc shakes his head - you really were a marvel, able to befriend so many different people and touch their hearts enough for them to appear for your birthday.

"look, forget about the vase, it doesn't matter. just keep quiet, y/n is writing right now, but if they hear this much noise they'll definitely come out to investigate," diluc instructs the rest, to which they nod sagely in agreement. as the gang tiptoes down the corridor to the study, sucrose suddenly lets out a squeak, "i forgot to bring the lighter!" xiao frowns, but doesn't say anything. each of them had been delegated a certain task to make sure your surprise party would run smoothly. yet of course one of the mortals had to mess up. xiao quickly double checks the gifts he's carrying to confirm he didn't leave any behind at wangshu inn, and satisfaction envelopes him upon realising that no, he has not. he usually hates crowds, but as the sole member from liyue, the trading hub of teyvat, he was entrusted with the job of purchasing all the gifts the others asked him to. if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have done it, but for now, xiao thinks he has done his job quite well.

kokomi's job was to sort out the decorations, which she gladly agreed to. being the very embodiment of grace and beauty, there was no other person in their group better suited to the task. even now, aquatic creatures fashioned from hydro bob happily around her, glimmering with rainbows. as a fish tickles her cheek, sangonomiya kokomi is reminded of your playfulness and she smiles, hoping you enjoy their surprise.

thoma is renowned in inazuma for his cooking skill, and many often gossiped that if he wasn't the housekeeper for the kamisato clan, he would likely have opened his own restaurant whose cuisine would rival that of kiminami restaurant. he was in charge of baking the cake! it was now safe in a box in his arms, thankfully he hadn't dropped it after bumping into the vase earlier. the cake is your favourite flavour, bedecked with icing swirls and a single candle in the middle, and thoma can't wait to see your expression once you see it.

sucrose was tasked with helping distract you for the day while kokomi and thoma sailed in from inazuma and diluc went to pick them up. while sucrose felt more than a little guilty for lying to you, she pretended that she needed help sorting out her research on sweet flowers before dropping a stack of papers which almost reached the ceiling into your hands. she had then proceeded to ramble about sweet flowers and their properties for five minutes straight, but your attention never wavered. that was one of the reasons sucrose adored you, you always let her talk about whatever she wanted without shushing her or saying she was annoying - she was truly grateful to have met you.

diluc's part in this whole plan was basically just to be a human wallet. he had funded everything with his seemingly unending flow of money, from the cost of ingredients for the cake to the expenses needed for a ship from inazuma to mondstadt. kokomi secretly thinks that diluc's bank account has a better chance of lasting for eternity than inazuma. though the payments barely made a dent in the amount of cash he had, diluc wouldn't have minded even if it did, for he was willing to go all out for your birthday.

finally, the group arrives outside the study. "your house is too large," xiao mutters under his breath, "mortals nowadays." diluc shoots him a glare, which is quickly interrupted by thoma grinning, "so what are we waiting for?" diluc does not understand why you like thoma - is it because of his happy-go-lucky demeanor? whatever, he knew he was still your favourite man with a pyro vision. kokomi adds, "as a strategist, i do believe now is the perfect time to surprise y/n. they might leave their study soon if we don't hurry, and that would ruin everything we've worked so hard for." sucrose nods before glancing at diluc, "uh, yes, i think we should go in now too." "alright, i'll open the door on the count of three and let's all yell happy birthday, okay?" diluc asks, scanning their expressions. everyone agrees, and diluc begins counting down as his hand pushes down on the handle.

3, 2, 1... "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

quill speaks !

ATLAS MY LOVE !! im not good with words so i hope the fic speaks for itself, ilysm and i hope you had the awesomest birthday ever !!!!!!!!!!! <3 ty for being my mutual and my friend, ilyilyily, happy bday again !!

k i have nothing else to say to everyone so byebye !!!!! :D

i hope you enjoy your stay at quill’s dessert cafe, and do check out the menu if you’d like ! 🍭

© starglitterz 2021. do not repost or modify in any way.

[icypantherwrites]

New Fic: Voices Through the Walls

Prompt: Lance + Finding Signs of a Struggle

Summary: When Lance doesn’t show up for a meeting, Shiro figures that he’s caught the same flu as the rest of his family, which was why Lance had to leave their Garrison housing and go to a temporary apartment. He volunteers to check up on Lance as the Atlas isn’t need for the next meeting and he’s fully prepared to find Lance sick and in need of assistance.

But he wasn’t prepared to find blood, a gun casing, and no sign of Lance at all.

Story snippet:

And while Lance’s door didn’t open the one to the right did and a grumpy looking older man peeked his head out. Seeing Shiro standing there — and either not noticing or ignoring the glowing prosthetic arm that was doing the knocking as most tended to give that a doubletake — his frown grew and he pointed a shaking arm and cane at Shiro’s chest.

“I’ve about had it,” he scowled, “with all this racket. Last night,” and his cane poked into Shiro’s chest, “and now this at such an early hour,” he poked Shiro again, “you young’ins have no respect for us older folk.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Shiro apologized even as his heart skipped a beat as the man confirmed what he’d feared.

Lance was sick.

And clearly sick enough that the sounds of it — no doubt vomiting and maybe even some crashes and bangs if Lance had been dizzy and stumbling around his apartment — had carried into the room next door.

“I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed again,” Shiro said, offering a tight smile before turning away and taking out his own master keycard that would let him into Lance’s room and barely noticing as the man let out a huff before stepping back into his room and the door closing with a slam that rattled Lance’s.

Shiro was letting himself in a swipe later, the interior of the windowless apartment dark save for the faint glow from Shiro’s shoulder port but it didn’t prevent him from seeing the fact the single chair at the table bolted into the wall was tipped over and shards of a broken ceramic bowl with its contents — smelling faintly of chicken soup — were on the ground, a puddle by the table.

Shiro’s stomach clenched at the sight as it told him Lance really, really wasn’t feeling well if his balance was that compromised.

There were flecks of blood too, a smeared handprint on the wall, telling him Lance had likely tried to clean it up, and, well…

God, he hoped it wasn’t too deep. His steps hurried as he stepped around the chair and over the mess and angled for the bedroom, door wide open, with a soft but still urgent call of Lance’s name, half-expecting to hear a groan or the rustling of blankets.

There was nothing.

Shiro stepped into the bedroom

And drew up short.

Lance was by no means a neat person but this…

This wasn’t normal.

His eyes roved around the destroyed bedroom — blankets from the bed a tangled mess, the bed footboard — heavy metal — somehow dented as though it had been struck, dresser drawers ripped open and the dresser itself tipped on its side, water glass and what looked like a bottle of fever reducer and antacids — he was sick — and the curtains over the one window had been yanked off the bar on one side, large rips in the sheer material.

But more than that…

There was blood here.

A lot of blood.

And…

Shiro’s blood ran cold as he caught a glint illuminated by the half-visible window and he bent down, heart hammering.

A shell casing.

A gun.

Lance did not have a gun other than his bayard.

And all of this together meant…

God.

Shiro stumbled back into the front room, hand slapping at the wall for a light switch.

READ IT HERE

This fanfiction is a Patreon Fic of the Month, which is a Patreon exclusive fanfic that supporters get to help choose by voting on a prompt/trope and a character that I then write a 5,000 word fanfiction of. If you would like to read this fanfic, as well as hundreds of thousands of words of other additional bonus content and support an author, you’ll want to subscribe to my Patreon. Subscriptions start at just $5/month; less than a fancy cup of coffee! Subscribe here today!

[vennilavee]

hands

pairing: levi x reader (atla au!) summary: the aftermath of the Explosion. ft zeke warnings: blood, bodily injury, some cursing a/n: based on this prompt request. here is another episode of me avoiding writing in the canonverse. enjoy. dont read this if u havent read the manga/know what happens!! dont yell at me for potential spoilers 

Levi doesn’t come back to you that night. He doesn’t come back until two nights later. In the meantime, all you have to keep you company is the warmth of your own flames and your worry for him. At first, you had given him space. Then, you were worried. Now, annoyance was starting to tint your worry.

You never claimed to be perfect. But you had been there, had seen Zeke almost recklessly throw his shards of metal at Levi. Levi hadn’t moved fast enough-

Because of you. Because of you. Because of you. You had been trapped under rubble, and despite the bright flames burning through your limbs, you had been unable to push yourself out-

Relief washes over you when you see Levi’s familiar steel eyes through the cracks between the rocks.

“Levi,” You murmur, “I can’t breathe- Where’s Zeke?”

Levi doesn’t answer, instead focused on bending the rock out of the way for you. That’s his first mistake- letting his guard down for half a second. Levi had encased Zeke in quicksand, only buying himself a few extra seconds to get you out.

“Levi, I’m fine! Go, he’s gonna-”

Levi hears it before he sees it, the rumble of the earth only to reveal Zeke looking worse for wear but with an angry glint in his eye. “Levi,” You beg, “Leave me, Levi- Don’t let him-”

He meets your eyes sharply, staring at you for a second before taking off. You were in the lion’s den, in enemy territory. Your heart pounds as you try to do something, anything, to push your way out. Fire licks your irises as flames coating your arms and your hands as you try to weaken the rocks. 

Desperation claws at you when you hear Zeke’s shrieks of anger. Wind whistles as metal flies off of the ceiling, but it’s all background noise. You know what Zeke is capable of. The man scares you, and you’re not too prideful to admit it.

Somehow you make your way out of the cave that Zeke had locked you in. Your chest is heaving and you take a breath of fresh air. Only to see Zeke direct shards of metal towards Levi’s face, cutting him slightly. Levi rolls his eyes as fresh blood drips down his face, only to redirect the metal back at Zeke full speed.

But Zeke has something up his sleeve. You see Levi hesitate for a millisecond, thrown off by the smirk on Zeke’s face. 

Something is about to happen, and you hear it before you see it. You hear explosions in the distance. You connect eyes with Levi and before you can scream for him to harden himself with the earth around him, an explosion goes off right below both of you. Zeke is nowhere to be found, and before you can redirect the fire from the explosion away from you and Levi…

Everything stills for a moment when a second explosion goes off. From right under Levi. 

You had stitched him up, squashing your rising panic. His fingers were missing, and you hope the stitches wouldn’t scar terribly. You don’t allow your heart to ache for him or for fear to settle in your veins, almost replacing your fire. Not yet. Bruises and low grade burns litter his torso. His blood cakes your hands, even under your nails. Your hands shake as you clean his wounds, day and night. He sleeps through the pain. You hope he doesn’t feel it.

You cry at night, curled up in your chair. The local medic comes eventually, to make sure his wounds and dressings are appropriately changed. She gives you medicine and a sympathetic look.

Levi wakes up a few days after that. The medic tries to explain to him what happened, but his eyes are wide when he looks at his hands. And his face in the mirror. A few hours went by, mostly in silence. Levi is on edge, and you can tell. He can’t seem to understand that the man in the mirror is him. How do you look at him like that- with fervent love burning through you?

Levi looks at you once, takes the bandages off of his face and leaves. He just walks out of your small safehouse without a word. You say nothing.

You keep the fireplace lit, just in case he comes back.

Levi has always loved your hands. They were rough, like his, but he’s always been fascinated with your firebending. And the first time you had shown him how to produce lightning, he had kissed you right there at the top of the mountain under the rain. Everything about you lights him up from within. But most of all, he trusts your hands.

He doesn’t feel very worthy of them anymore. He’s running on autopilot, when he walked out of the safehouse and into the forest. You didn’t come after him, and he appreciates that.

But it’s been at least two days now. His face burns and itches. He wants your hands. But how does he face you?

He drags his feet through the forest floor, a little disoriented. Everything feels muted. Everything feels like it’s on fire. The sound of the explosions rings clear in his ears.

Levi walks back home. To you.

By the time he comes back to you, it’s nightfall. You’ve been making an extra bowl of dinner for him, just in case he comes back. And today, he does.

“Levi,” You breathe, running up to him to catch him in your arms, “Let me help you, Levi.”

He looks at you with both eyes, ignoring the searing pain of his right side. If this is the last time he sees you with both eyes, he doesn’t mind. He stamps the memory of your face to his soul.

Levi sits at the edge of the bed, hesitant to touch you. Do you still want him to?

He lets you clean and bandage him up. You even have an eyepatch for him. His hands are limp, chin pointed downwards. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you’re not surprised. You stay quiet as well, not wanting to push him. Only wanting him to be safe.

It goes like that for a few days- he’s silent when you change his dressings and clean his wounds. Your touch feels like something stolen. He wants to hold your hands, feel your inner warmth seep into him.

But he doesn’t allow it. Not yet.

“Levi,” You murmur, setting a bowl of stew in front of him, “I love you. You remember that, right?”

He hums noncommittally. 

“Nothing’s gonna change that,” You continue, “I’m gonna put a bolt of lightning in Zeke Yeager’s fuckin’ heart. Nothing’s gonna change that either.”

Levi snorts at that. It’s the most you’ve gotten from him. You give him a bright smile and his lips quirk upwards, too.

He eats his stew quietly.

“Can I touch you?” You murmur, as you’re changing his wounds. He sits at the edge of your bed, shirtless. And a little drawn into himself.

“You already are,” Levi remarks. It makes you smile.

“I meant like this,” You murmur, fingers padding over his chest. Silent heat presses into his skin and he feels his muscles relaxing slightly. You haven’t touched him like this in a while. He wonders if you even want to anymore.

You had only wanted to give him the space that he wanted. But you wonder if he’s avoiding your touch out of some form of self-sacrifice. 

He’s always been so dramatic. 

You cup his cheek, your lips only a breath away from his. “I’m going to kiss you now,” You murmur, “Because I love you. No matter what.”

Levi expects your lips on his, but instead you surprise him. Your lips gently press next to his stitches, the bruises on his chest, and upper arms, and finally, his hand. A kiss for each finger. Your lips linger where his fingers should be.

“‘M always gonna hold your hand,” You murmur, “Even when you don’t want to hold mine. Because I love you.”

Levi threads his fingers through yours and you squeeze gently, warm embers of heat curling through his veins. He gives you a small smile, the first one you’ve seen in days.

“Okay,” Levi says softly, meeting your eyes. This time, he squeezes your hands with the little strength he has and feels your warmth finally seep into his skin through the palm of your hands.

He’s always loved your hands. He’s always trusted your hands.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​

[lightdancer1]

Can you write about Azula's reunion with Ty Lee and Mai when she returns to her original world in your SMxATLA xover? the time flow is the same in the world of SM and the ATLA (like if Azula was thrown into the portal at 13 and came back at 14, if of course you are following the same age as the show then the period she spent on Earth is corresponding in the avatar world or is there a time dilation, even if small, for example of days or months)?

The monster moved toward Zuko with the slow grace of a tiger on the prowl, eyes shining with malice and hate.

"Your kind are worthless soulless husks, child of Fire. Not a single star seed on this worthless clod of dust interwoven with water."

Galaxia's voice was silky, her tone amused.

"But you and your uncle, why you've been breaking my toys. And so have the other little children playing the games of the betters. Fire and Water and Earth and Air," she grinned still.

She raised her right hand with its bracelet that began to shine and then for a moment she paused. Light shone, brilliant and terrible as the dawn and she went from pausing in her motions to being frozen.

"In the name of the Cauldron," she breathed.

The light grew bright enough that for a moment she stepped back and someone or something began to emerge from the portal.

"To Chaos with this," she snarled and then she laughed coldly as she fired a blast straight for the heart of the son of flame. Something moved in front of Zuko with feet blazing with brilliant blue fires and then a shield was in front of him, and Galaxia stared in mute shock when the blast encountered a force of determination that while nowhere near equal to her own in power could withstand a single blow. The shield was stretched to the edge of what it could tolerate, a molten and brittle thing but it held.

She snarled, a bestial sound of anger and flew off. This wouldn't do.

Zuko stared at the figure that stood in front of him. She was garbed in a white sleeveless shirt, in trousers of a hitherto unknown kind, in boots he'd never seen before. She had grown tall, a height to match Father and Mother. But those eyes, he would know them anywhere.

------

Azula barely had time to squawk before Zuko lunged at her. Her shield fell and splintered but the shards didn't strike anyone as he knocked her on her back, holding her, crying in relief.

"You're alive," he said, when he could form words. She found herself staring in mute shock.

"Zuko?" Her voice was hesitant, quiet. Disbelieving.

"No Zuzu?" There was a wistful kind of sadness to his tone.

"You didn't like it when I called you that," her voice responded in a tone of quiet sadness.

"I didn't like not hearing it at all much more," he said, and hugged her still.

------

Mai and Ty Lee had frozen in horrified shock when the monster had fully unveiled herself in the Battle of Ba Sing Se, and again on the Day of Black Sun (they would not forget soon the sight of something in golden armor throwing tanks around as if they were nothing at all, the horrified screams, the smell. The knowledge that she had let them flee with a sinister amusement the better stoke to fear).

Mai had felt a sense of horrified despair when she saw it advancing on Zuko, and it was an it, even if it wore golden armor and had a beautiful face, if one marred by an inner ugliness and emptiness. And then the light, then the impossible figure who'd stepped from it, taken the blast. Saved Zu-

Their brains caught up with the person they were seeing, hearing the person risen from the dead speaking to Zuko, words that were private and yet could be heard. Ty Lee's aura-sight showed her one thing but then after Zuko let himself rise to his feet and Azula rose to hers, Mai caught those eyes and then she knew.

-------

Azula barely had time to sigh and murmur "Usagi trained me well" when someone else lunged at her and knocked her on her back, a hug of surpassing strength almost taking the breath out of her, even with the changes she'd gone through on Earth. The person who held her was trembling, so she'd expected it was Ty Lee.

"You're alive." Those same words, the ones Zuko had spoken in clarity, in the voice of-

Her eyes widened. Mai. It was....Mai. Mai. Stone-faced Mai, who only smiled and was softer around Zuko. One of her first and oldest friends, and in that sight everything that was Mai was there, even like this. She had been so foolish to think her sister could be anything like her.

Mai let her go too, pulling her to her feet.

"Missed you," she said in her normal voice. Azula stared and then this time she didn't resist a startled sound when Ty Lee did leap onto her, taking advantage of Azula's inability to not shove people away.

-------

Iroh stared in mute surprise, jaw gaping.

Sokka, whose old suspicions were long gone leaned over to the man he'd never expected to see as a friend and now did.

"OK, what's wrong with Zuko and Mai? I didn't even know Mai could have feelings for anyone not named or shaped like Zuko."

Iroh remained silent for a long moment, tears coming to his eyes.

"Seriously," Sokka continued, "it's like they've seen a ghost."

"In a sense they have," Iroh's voice spoke quietly as Ty Lee held onto a friend she had given up all hope of seeing. The light shone again and more figures stepped out of it, ten individuals, led by a winged woman with long trailing hair that reminded Iroh uncannily of a cousin and a man in a penguin suit, of all things.

Iroh took a step forward and Azula saw him with visible surprise.

------

It was only when her uncle, the man she'd expected had cheered her death if he'd noticed it at all held her as if he'd never expected to see her again, as if she actually mattered that the emotions dammed for the entire span of time since the portal had taken her from her own world to the wonders of Earth and its dangers, too, cracked and she let herself be held one last time.

"Sparky," said one of the people in a language akin to the Fire Nation's own, if more clipped, somewhat harsher.

"Are you all right?"

Mai and Ty Lee turned to them, and to the short-haired blonde who'd spoken. They were surprised to see two girls beside her and another pair of women, one with dark green hair and crimson eyes, the other with aqua hair and eyes.

The two girls had one with bright pink hair and eyes, her pigtails gleaming with a strange light, and the other with dark hair and a glaive she tapped on the ground like a staff. There had been signs and wonders since Azula vanished and then the monsters had stepped into their world and unleashed new horrors.

It was the sheer informality and yet warmth with which the short-haired woman spoke and the ways the two girls and the other two women looked at Azula, a possessive, familial warmth that led Ty Lee to ask

"Who are you? And how do you know our Princess?"

[founderscouncil]

WHAT COLOR DOES YOUR LOVE FEEL LIKE

keelin malraux - warm burnt orange

Riding off into the sunset, the hope of a happy ending, the bitter after taste that still in it's own way smells kinda great. Your love is all bitter hopefulness, all about a broken heart that refuses to quit, all about the unshakable knowledge that a burning fire has a great comforting warm and a soft glowing light, all about the way when the sun comes down there's a beautiful starry night. It's stubbornness, it's the refusal to give up, the clutching of broken shards despite the searing pain and being adamant that dammit you can still make a beautiful stained glass window out of it. Yours is a screaming heart, a pleading love, a bitter and almost belligerent hopefulness that things will still work out even if you have to roll up your sleeves and make them. And god, aren't you tired? Isn't your heart heavy? Is all your hard work worth it? Don't you just want to curl up and let it be? Let the fire turn to ashes and the sky turn dark and let love die down and watch people leave? But you don't, do you? You're the bravest out of all of us, so you pick up the pieces and you keep going, you keep believing and you keep your heart full of hope because some day. Some day you know you'll get it. You keep riding off into the sunset and you keep filling my heart with hope as you go because god, how do I wish you finally get it too.

finch tarrayo - dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

rafael waithe - deep staining red

Ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. Your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. It's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. It rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. Sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. Your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. And you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. Atlas holding up the world, how are you? Is your love still flowing? Is your heart still open? Still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? Still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? Because I see them, I read them, I love them and you, you, you, you. Clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. Spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. Make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. Maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.

tagged by: @viikingwitch tagging: @floripire, @burningcrown, @siphoncursed, @ladyliliowa, the person reading this