#and dust doesnt fear death

[silverskye13]

and death shall have no dominion by dylan thomas

And Death Shall Have No Dominion

By Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

And death shall have no dominion.

Dead men naked they shall be one

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

Under the windings of the sea

They lying long shall not die windily;

Twisting on racks when sinews give way,

Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;

Faith in their hands shall snap in two,

And the unicorn evils run them through;

Split all ends up they shan't crack;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

No more may gulls cry at their ears

Or waves break loud on the seashores;

Where blew a flower may a flower no more

Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

Though they be mad and dead as nails,

Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;

Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,

And death shall have no dominion.

[a-whispering-echo]

below is a transcript of the rambles in my notes on my Pirate Au.

the concept is THERE okay? just not that thought out. Dream was originally in this au too, he has since been nerfed cus i just dont really like Dream, oops.

They're all from different ships and we're stranded on the same island - They have to work together to make a new ship and get off thhe Island

Dusts ship was infected with illness, he killed them all to stop them dying painfully from it, he planned to drown himself after killing them all, this didn't work, and he ended up washed up on the island - The grey Spirit

Most of Horrors ship died of starvation after they were low on supplies and the captain hoarded all the food for herself. when they were hit by the storm, Horror get his head wound from that and doesn't remember much of his life from before the crash, just knowing that he had a brother and that he has to make sure he's safe, he doesn't know he's already dead. - the Qualm's Tail

Killers ship had broken out into civil war, and almost everyone was killed in this war, most of them to his own hand, he was in the side of rebellion against their captain who was killing off their own crew for more shares of treasure, when they were hit by the storm, they're were only around ten men altogether, Killer doesn't much care what happened to his crew mates, he saw a lot of them as traitors and those he didn't he wasn't very close to anyway. - the Something New

Cross was sailing on his own, he was sent out by his town for supplies by his father, one of the leaders. Gaster hoped his son would die at sea, or at the very least, not come back. He got his wish when Cross' small boat couldn't handle the fierce tides of the ocean. Cross was mostly honoured to be chosen to go out, thinking it a time to prove himself, never realising that the people hated him until he spoke about his home life with the others, and they picked up on things he didn't. - the X

Nightmare was a prince who ran away when he was young due to the villagefolk believing him to be cursed by the devil due to his magic being dark in nature. he ran away and became one of the most feared pirates on the seas, stating that if everyone was going to treat him as if he was evil anyway, he might as well actually commit the crimes he was accused of. Nightmare exclusively worked alone, using illusion magic to make it seem like he had a huge crew to scare people off, but on his own he couldn't fight the tide and his ship hit a rock while he was asleep. - The Nightfall Mare

They arrive on the island withing a few hours of each other, nm lands first, relitivly unharmed, just a few nicks and scratches, but he has some food with him, just some bread and berries, and fresh water to last a good while. The mtt then wash up on quick succession, Horror first, unconscious and extremely wounded ,Nightmare doesnt know what to do, and mostly just tries to stop the bleedlng as best as he can with his clothing, until Dust washed up. He's also unconscious, and almost drowned, but when he's resuscitated by nm, he immediately helps horror, as dust was a medic in training, horror stays unconscious for a few days, but is mostly okay in the end, minus some memory problems, due to dusts help. Killer shows up about 20 minutes after dust wakes up, he's awake, but cut up pretty badly, but not in fear of death, but he has weapons, several knives, and axes on his shipwreck, dusst helps patch him up too, and then a few hours later, cross shows up. He has a bag of supplies, of water and rope, but most importantly, he knew fire magic. Together, they had enough supplies to survive, and become very close along the

[pumpkinsy0]

hcs for ponyboy getting pneumonia 🤩

cant wait for this fucker to die off already (i would b very sad if he did)

•ponys got pneumonia a couple of times before and after this poi t, once as a baby, twice as a teen, he WILL get it in the future, hes a sick guy what can we say

•part of the reason y everyone in the gang is so protective of pony is BC he was pretty sick as a baby, ponys had 2 near death experiences and THAT was one of em.

•imma b frank n tell yall that they havent rlly went to the hospital for it before, each time pony got it, it was mild and even then they didnt know it was pneumonia SPECIFICALLY, just that he was pretty sick

•when he “got it” after dallys death n such, what caused it was being in that church for so long w all the dust, mold, shitty air, etc etc. he had bacterial pneumonia and its not like it just POPPED up one day, he was sick and just ignored it w pills n such to keep on pushin.

•w this pneumonia however, it was just flat out thee worst hes ever had it and ever will have it, the other times were more manageable while this time, combined w pony being very hallucinative, they feared pony was gonna die and thats y soda stayed at ponys side, scared he was gonna go out alone

•they knew it wasnt no regular ass sickness when ponys lips and fingernails started lookin blueish, im not kidding they thought ole ponyfella was gonna have to b put DOWN

•smoking can make it rlly hard for u to rlly clear ur airways, so ik ponys coughs were WET, he could cough as hard as he wants, hes done for either way (if u wanna hc him w asthma as well, it sounded like he was genuinely struggling to breath, he was wheezing loud and couldnt take deep breaths, just drinking was hell for him

•the type of pneumonia pony got is contagious for like 48 hours, he absolutely got a few ppl sick as well, maybe not as bad, but it was still there for sure, soda most def got sick but he was just glad ponys doin better while pony felt bad

•darry stuck by pponys side but i love thinking he felt a lil guilty for what happened to pony so he can only do it for so long before feeling like shit, he does make his soup and gives pony a lot of orange juice so he still feels a lil helpful

•bc bacterial pneumonia has symptoms that rlly do require medical attention, when pony was able to gain so semblance of consciousness in between his bouts of confusion he would refuse to go. he doesnt like hospitals and mumbled about the social worker finding that put and taking him away but darry and soda for the first time in forever didnt gaf about that, just wanted pony alive damn it!!

•funnily enough as much as he fought against it, pony doesnt remember it, but instead they just called a doctor to come over and take a look at the guy. he probably just thinks of it as a delusion or something, but he didnt rlly care that much to ask, cause a week and a half later he was feelin better

now THANKFULLY i get ur other ask before i finished this one so heres that curly bit🙏🏽🙏🏽

•they didnt see each other for MONTHS after pony got sick bc curly still had the 6 months to serve, tim told curly what was happening w pony but he focused more so on the fact that his 2 friends instead if him being sick which honestly, yea i get.

•so pony being sick COMPLETELY skipped passed his mind he thought it was like a kinda bad cold, nothin BAD like pneumonia😭

•reason y curly was like “hmmmm somethings off w him,,,” is bc yes, once again his friends died not too long ago, but also the pneumonia lowkey fucked his mental up, someone save this kid😭😭

[unknownchoatic]

high school au thoughts, more under the cut:

Horror is terrified of dogs. doesn’t matter how big/small or how aggressive/nice they are, he hates them. and he has his own trauma related to dogs but like it feels a bit silly- cause horror is massive and has part of his face mauled off and he looks like an overall tough guy, but he sees a little purse dog and freaks out. he does better with smaller dogs than big ones. he’s weary of small dogs, but if he sees a larger breed he will freak out. and he lives in an area where stray dogs or like unleashed slightly feral dogs are pretty common. also theres been a fee police investigations (with, you guessed it, police dogs) and that freaks him out.

Dust hates cars. thats how his dad and brother were killed, so like that’s understandable, but its legit a problem. other modes of transportation are fine, boats, plains, trains and shit he has no problem with, but cars and trucks will give him panic attacks. buses are a 50/50, it just depends on the day. for the first few years after his dad + brothers death he really couldn’t do cars because he was also in the accident, but other than a few scrapes Dust was fine. and then later he still really doesnt like cars. on car rides he’ll be shaking and very obviously panicked. and like, he lives in a city. cars are everywhere and though you can walk places you can’t avoid cars. also if he sees a car crash he will have really bad panic attacks and also flashbacks to when his dad + bro were killed. also also yk when whoever is driving has to slam on the breaks or like if a car is going rlly fast and swerving a bit, well any type of motion like that will freak Dust out

Killer is very afraid of being abandoned. this comes from being in the foster system. cause like his mom died and then he was stuck in the system going in and out of homes. and like normally hes fine as long as Killers with other people but if someone has to leave for whatever reason he gets this intense wave of panic and fear and abandonment. its worse when hes in the hospital. cause hes left alone for days on end and like there are nurses and stuff, but they’re working and doing their job. and like he has really big health issues so he spends a lot of time alone in hospital beds and missing class time in the nurses office.

Cross is terrified by the idea that he is a failure or that he didn’t do good enough. he comes from an abusive and also neglectful household, the only time he has positive feelings associated with Xgaster being when he does a goof job. but with that comes dread and fear and panic at the idea of him doing anything wrong. and if he cant do a task, he’ll break down. like one time he had a full blown panic attack over not understanding a math equation in the middle of class. bc hes smart, he knows this stuff, he should be doing better.

ironically, Nightmare hates hospitals. cause like he spends so much time in them. or a while he would have surgeries that were planned so that they would happen on breaks- that way he would miss less school. but half the stuff he’s have done weren’t necessary. he associates hospitals with pain and being on strong pain meds and just doesn’t like bring there. (Dream also doesn’t like hospitals because he views them as why Nim pays more attention to Nightmare (Nim is like kinda neglectful towards Dream and very overprotective of Nm))

this was fun i might do more of these

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

wen kexing, listen to my lament | Jarðartrá

there is an evil sibling to this video thats basically the exact same, only it hones even more in on wen kexing's fear of vulnerability and his yearning for warmth and release, to Sundown by Nightwish. i couldnt decide on a version and chose to go with both!

this is an almost 5 minutes video of just wen kexing shots from specific moments of the show while he has different conversations with different people. i wanted to comb his layers aside to find his dark underbelly; that terrible (self) destruction he bears within himself, that desire to harm that contrasts so his yearning for emotional intimacy. i wanted to explore that through his conversations with the most influental people in his present life: zhou zishu, luo fumeng, liu qianqiao, and gu xiang.

watch on youtube! | (original song) Jarðartrá by Eivør

“When I wrote this song, I envisioned the earth in its rawest elements: oceans, volcanoes, storms, soil”, remembers Eivør. “We all have echoes of these elements within us, but maybe we tend to forget that we are part of nature and its endless circle of decay and growth”. —Season of Mist, Eivør announces new album with earthy, electronic single "Jarðartrá", March 2024

(fully translated lyrics and thoughts under the cut!)

Dust to Dust/Jarðartrá, Eivør

Still it gushes forth in crimson waves fat river of fates bloodies sharpened blades From its dark depths corpses rise all the ocean’s delights drift before your sight Lift up your clouded eyes and look at me your unmasked home Listen to my lament come lie down in my blue embrace Reeking of your cruel rage flaking weapon-rust crusts your fierce death-lust Raging pyres must blaze out life’s primal song Can you sing along?

lyrics taken from the music video on youtube.

i took a more figurative approach to this video by expressing these themes, as i tend to do with all of my edits, and it doesnt focus on wen kexing's actions, rather on his relationships with those around him (also smth i tend to centre over other things), but i felt that aside from the rawness of the song's audio, the lyrics fit wen kexing's general plight very well and how it might affect his relationships even to those he wants to draw close and that he cares for.

[mer-acle]

I'm so bored so finally sharing that alisha lore with you hehe

My ass forgot where I left things with you. Ahhh.

But. Alisha has been pushing herself as hard as she could for years. Just so she could have the approval of her mother. It was only time before she cracked yn. I just had to give it a little shove. (Evil smile) (Also omg I had this exact thought today seconds before dropping water all over the floor. Yey)

She has a quest, finally after years of waiting for a chance to prove herself. A quest designed for her alone, to find and retrieve some tool hephaustus lost ages ago. Whats different about is that she has to go to it alone. (Demigods usually take 2 people with them. To my knowledge only clarisse refused to take anyone bc she wanted to make ares proud) She has been warned about not trusting anyone she meets on the quest. She has a choice to not go (does she really.)

Luke and her have a little fight about it. (Luke has just come back from his quest months ago. Wait yk this part right?) Luke doesnt trust the gods, not anymore. And the order of not having anyone accompany her sounds suspicious. This is a test, not just a quest. (Alisha knows this but by the gods how can she refuse the thing she has been dreaming about since she was a child.) Luke has a really bad feeling about this. But he cant tell her to not go, she wouldnt listen anyway. They have a little luck runs out moment (ahhhhhh) where luke questions alisha's decisions and trust in the gods. Alisha feels like he doesnt think her as capable. She knows he has his reasons to worry and tries to assure him but there is that self conscious thought back at her mind. In the end luke has to watch as alisha leaves.

The quest is... traumatic for sure. Alisha does nearly everything right. Passes every test except one. Athena had advised her to not trust anyone she met at the quest, told her to rely only on herself. Alisha did not do that. She met someone, made friends with him, gave him her trust. Paid dearly for it. (None of this would have happened if athena let her take someone with her. But that was the point wasnt it. She wanted to test if alisha could be the perfect warrior, wanted to see if she'd stop being so trusting. After all her loyalty is her fatal flaw. Unlike the most children of athena.)

Alisha doesnt remember what happened really. She thinks he tried to kill her and get the stuff. She has the scars to prove it, bruises on her throat and claws in her shoulder. She doesnt even remember killing him really. It must've happened fast. After the adrenalin, she only remembers bits. She remembers the feeling of deep betrayal. Pain. Fear. The golden dust all over her clothes, which are damaged- scraps really. The sensation of wrongness. The feeling of guilt, of shame pouring all over her. The numbness. Everything is so wrong. And she thinks her friend has tried to kill her. He fooled her, he was a monster all along. (Will she remember what actually happened. Who knows. Does it matter. When she is scarred all the same. Her trust broken. Does it matter which way.)

Oof I was gonna write more here but this is enough angst for one ask isnt it

(sry I'm late)

Athenaaaa noooo you broke the child!!!! I'm livid rn

The gods don't really do anything to prove Luke wrong istg like I get in life-or-death it's better to be the one "to push someone down the stairs" instead of being pushed but ATHENA your daughter can develop emotional intelligence and pick the right people jdhdbdjdbfjdn you don't have to destroy her

Epic Athena would never (she would try but let's be real she always let Ody get away with having emotions and attachments in the end)

Poor Alisha

I love (FBI open up) that she doesn't remember it. That's such an underused tool in storytelling esp as not the main plotline (like in Jason Bourne or whatever it's the entire premise but side amnesia plots? Good stuff)

But omg the poor baby 😭😭😭😭

Thank you for the lore dump dudbiddnjdjdbdjd I'm obsessed

[felixxthefrog]

sometimes, im not sure if healing is the right word.

when im talking to my friends or myself, i refer to what im doing as "healing from my religious trauma". i sometimes like to think of it as tending to my wounds, wounds inflicted upon me by my church, by myself, by my family. washing them, patting them dry, applying a salve to them every day. slow and painful, but eventually they'll close and fade to a scar. and maybe one day, those scars will fade to nothingness.

as i go on, however, i find myself doubting that imagery. i am starting to feel that that in itself is rooted in my upbringing under christianity. the idea that eventually you will be healed, better, pure, saved, by god, by father, by creator, by the ultimate love and power. is it that simple? that clean? that kind?

am i healing? i dont feel like im healing. i dont feel like i'll ever heal. i feel like im tearing barbed arrows from my skin. when i find another, i poke around, see if there's any other way i can do this. i search, desperate, hoping it wont be painful this time. but it always is. it always has to be, doesnt it? that's the point of religion. to make sure that leaving it is more painful than staying in it.

when i come to terms with the fact that i will have to pull the arrows out, i cant help but maybe mourn a little bit. sometimes i think my skin is a tree, because i look at the arrow that's been there a decade or more, and my skin has stared to grow around it. the arrow looks half engulfed, not just embedded, but it seems to be becoming a part of my body.

i cant help but fear pulling it out. searing pain, tearing skin, muscles ripped, tendons snapping, fiery poison pulsing through veins. i'll grind my teeth to dust and twist my face in a knot and hold my breath to stop from screaming. through it all, i still must stop myself from begging for attention. ripping it out sounds appealing, but i know i cant. i shouldnt.

i must be gentle - in the past, i have gone to pull an arrow from my skin and i have broken the shaft. the wood splintered in my hands and i threw it to the ground, trying to move on to another arrow because i cant be bothered with nonsense like this, splintered arrows and flint heads still stuck under my skin.

later when i went back to the arrow with the shattered shaft, i saw that it had dug in deeper. around the wound were two dozen splinters and matching open wounds, red and inflamed, tender and painful, infected, growing. worsening. the original arrowhead had been engulfed by my skin and now i must cut my skin open and peel it back, poking and prodding with forceps to try and free it from its new home within my body. as i gaze at my skin, i am reminded of my anatomy class. the rat i pinned to the mat and flayed, inspecting every part of it to learn how it functioned. at least i am experienced.

the wound is still infected. i have removed the arrow head, but those splinters, theyre slippery. i look around and see half a dozen more broken, splintered arrows; a dozen more arrows untouched; a hundred tiny splinters scattered around my body, embedded in my skin. they are numerous and countless and neverending.

i am out of the warzone now, i am no longer getting bombarded with arrows, i am no longer actively dying, i am no longer beaten and bruised and damn-near lifeless on the battlefield in the hold righteous name of the almighty, i am no longer a sacrifice, but i AM sacrificed. i was. i always was. i was a lamb raised to be blemishless, taking pride in the neatness in my coat, ignoring the blood that had stained it from birth and that would stain my own hands at death.

i was never blameless. i was never blemishless. i was raised for a merciful slaughter and instead became a soldier, unwilling, unknowing, thinking this was what sheep were made for. his staff around my neck did not keep me back from the cliff, it bruised and strangled me so i could not jump over the fence. it seemed so peaceful there. the war was not raging on the other side.

but the war followed me. the wounds never left. it's not healing, is it? not really. even if my wounds heal, i will forver be deformed and broken, debilitated, unworthy. what is worthy? was i worthy of war? am i worthy of peace? healing? how will i ever get these arrows out? the splinters? will the scars ever fade?

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

9 (falling) for the micro story prompts <3

Thank you! went for some action for this- remember Celia = Muro and warning for blood and the semi graphic death of the two people [stupid enough to be] attacking Muro

-

Thuds reverberated around the alleyway, the sound of his own footsteps bouncing off worn brick and stone obscuring the second set, but the sound was still almost drowned out by the wind in Muro's ears as he charged forwards.

It had been a while since hes last been pursued like this, hunted so effectively. Perhaps he had gotten too comfortable in his position, in his projected power.

The second set of thuds stopped, replaced by the crunch of gravel as the attacker skidded to a halt, and a squish as he slipped on something before righting himself.

"There's nowhere to run, Tombale," Despite the panting, the click of safety easily reached Muro's ears. "Prepare for this alleyway to be your own stone-walled tomb,"

He still kept running towards the wall, but his legs lowered, then catapulted him upwards, one outstretched to hit the wall, bending, then impact, then even more height, finally launching him up and over the top of the alleyway-

-a spark of light, a flash, sharp pressure in his chest-

Wind whipped in his ears as he desperately tried to right himself, but the second gunman has hit him right at the height of his leap, leaving him in free-fall towards the flagstones below.

Against his wishes his eyes closed, even he still felt some fear, and he reveled in the now rare feeling as he fell.

His only warning before impact was the chink of metal on stone as the crumpled bullet hit the ground just before he did.

Pain lanced through his body, begging him to stay down, to curl up and die, but he could still hear the prattling of the first attacker despite his pulse pounding in his ears.

"Ha! thought you would escape from me? your just an arrogant fool- i cant wait to see the anguished faces of your bitches when we parade your corpse in front of-"

The prat was interrupted by the other gunman- "No blood- Hes not- Hes not bleedin-"

Blood finally hit the alley floor, but it certainly wasn't Muros.

The second gunman at least had the dignity to die quietly, throat torn open, obliterated, by one of Muro's belt buckles, but the first one did no such thing, gasping for breath and begging for mercy as he grew to resemble a piece of swiss cheese.

Then finally, silence returned to Muro's ears. He doesnt know how long he lay there, but as soon as the blood started soaking into his clothes he finally dragged himself upwards, scowl on his face as he saw the ruined cake right next to the corpse, a footprint smeared through the middle, crushing the center of the cake, and blood soaking what was not ground into the floor.

So much for a custom birthday cake, but a few streets down there was a good enough place to get a premade one, and then prepare to beg for forgiveness from his little brother.

When he walked past it earlier there had been a nice blue cake, dusted silver, hopefully that would make Cecio happy enough to forgive him.

[xanaxnguns]

I don’t call the Second Vatican Council heresy, but I don’t agree with almost anything in it. I don’t agree with the approach to other religions. There’s no such thing, either the Church is Catholic or it doesn’t exist. Tolerating all religions is the same as atheism. These two phrases were uttered by popes. The love that Christ taught us to found the church is very different from the dialogue they have with false religions. Ecumenism has corrupted tradition. I see things related to ecumenism and I get truly saddened by the situation in the world. Ive prayed a lot for the Church. In today’s gospel, it says the exact word: fear. The apostles were afraid of the jews, but Jesus gave them power and made them strong with the truth. Being the Church has never been easy, at the time when the jews killed Jesus and killed many others of us. Only those who don’t even know how to observe the world say that Judaism and Catholicism are sister religions. We have two big problems: the jews and the muslims. The jews are all about zionism and their frantic attempts to dissolve the Christian way of life. Islam aims to replace our Christian population and also the world population (not just whites, but blacks and asians too, they want a world that is only Islamic). Jews are no longer a religion or a race, they are a kind of ideology, a way of functioning. You no longer have to be ethnically jewish to reproduce jewish behaviors, or even to convert to judaism.

like i said here...

btw, jews want exactly it. They want to control white people and put them into jewish ideologies, such as feminism, abortion, pornography, sex outside of marriage, etc. Muslims have the motto "the greatest weapon is a woman's uterus" precisely because they reproduce like rabbits, expanding their race. There is no good reason to try to interact with these religions. Jews are blasphemers, they dont recognize Jesus. Muslims believe in Jesus, but they blaspheme His death and dont believe that He is God. The State of Israel is illegitimate, they try to steal our lands. That place is sacred, because Jesus lived there. Jesus is God, and only we worship Him as God, so that is ours. We cant dialogue with wrong religions. They dont understand love. Love is bringing people to Christ; dialogue and letting them believe in what they believe is precisely the lack of love. Love is justly rigid and hard.

Jesus taught love, but also justice. And I believe that the Second Vatican Council fails to bring about justice, nor love. The Church doesnt need to change; we humans need. These reforms in the Church, in the rites, in the clothing, this is all so weak... The Church still tries to love, that is why it tries to change. But we cant. To love is to teach the love of Jesus to others, to bring them to Jesus and teach them this love, just as the jesuits did with the indigenous. This is what love is. The parents who love the most are those who are the least flexible. And we must be like that with Christ, our Creator Father, too

Therefore, ecumenism, "dialogue" is a loss of identity for the Church. We must be conservative in the sense of our rites and our rules. Thus, if we truly respect Christ in the sense of not being ashamed to talk about Him, or to demand His values, we will truly see if other religions are worthy of our dialogue. After all, it's like this: "we will talk about the Sabbath, we will exclude you for being Christian, we will talk about our faith, but you will not be able to talk about Jesus" and "we will talk to you about Mohammed, force you to kneel on a carpet, to do Ramadan, but you will not be able to talk about Jesus". Ive never seen dialogue on only one side... It is time for people to realize that dialogue SUPPRESSES and OPPRESSES Christianity. Christ himself said this: "If they will not welcome you or listen to your words, when you leave that house or town, shake off the dust from your feet. Truly I tell you, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town"

Our dialogue is not about wearing Jewish hats, or receiving a Quran as a gift, our dialogue is about teaching the truth of God Jesus

in conclusion, we need to get this wave of modernism out of the church, and this wave of ecumenism. the Church needs to be Catholic and only Catholic

[hidelias]

A bend in space-time Season 1 - [Chapter 30: Season finale]

Chronological markers: this scene fits like a deleted scene from season 1, épisode 10, around 38:27 (just after the defeat of the Commission's gunmen).

Suggested soundtrack : Simon and Garfunkel - A Hazy Shade of Winter

---

April 1st, 2019 - 09h41 pm

The euphoria that came over me after Klaus and Ben's dazzling performance was short-lived, albeit intense and sincere. Could it have made me forget the reason that brought us into the splendid walls of the Icarus Theatre, under the beautiful glass roof where the full moon spies? No, I don't think I've lost sight of it for a moment, and for one simple reason: at no point during the shoot-out we've just been through - absolutely no point - has Viktor stopped playing.

The melancholy notes arising from his inner being now twirl unfettered, without the slightest blast of gunfire echoing through the room, making him the only soloist of his resentment and sadness. He no longer even looks at his siblings. And I feel his sorrow rising around him even more, the sound waves he moves causing the matter of all things to collide, uplifting energy. And yet, this is just a lullaby to him. I can't imagine what would happen if he were to play a requiem.

Perhaps he senses that his siblings are looking for a way to stop him, and I fear for a moment that his actions might catch up with my thoughts. For already, his bow lingers, his phrasing changes, and it's the whole edifice of the Icarus that I feel rumbling. Like Hargreeves Mansion just a few hours ago, in a terrible reminiscence of what has collapsed. The colonnades, the deck, the balconies, the Bacchus ornaments: everything quakes, while long vertical cracks tear through the stucco and concrete, right down to the gilding on the vaulted ceiling. I don't know if the Horror's intervention has weakened the load-bearing capacity of the walls. But handfuls of dust are now falling onto the carpets in the central aisle, where I'm still slumped over. All I can hope is that Diego - who hasn't turned up yet - isn't in trouble.

"You'll have to teleport for a while," Klaus says to me, examining my calf. "Or, alternatively, hop around."

Chuckling would be my first reflex, but a twitch of pain quickly replaces it, as he tightens a bandage on my leg, improvised with a silk scarf left behind. I underestimated his abilities in combat first aid. After all the times I've had to patch up his cuts and scraps myself, usually healing within a day. The latest being three weeks ago, when he tried to cut a bagel in half with his finger in the hole. If Ben hadn't vanished, he'd probably be smiling to see us turn things around this way, but it seems that Klaus has given it his all and can't summon him right now.

Has something just changed, now that he's demonstrated his ability to materialize spectral energy at that frontier of his soul: where life and death collide? His siblings' trust, maybe a little. If only. And if I wasn't busy gritting my teeth in pain, maybe I'd tell him how proud I am of him.

I don't even catch a glimpse of Diego finally returning: my eyes linger on Viktor's diaphanous silhouette, raising opalescent rays under the stage's arches. Pure and white. White? I don't recall his costume or violin ever being white. Is this a sonic alteration of matter, or a visual expression of the energy he's now stirring up? Or just a hallucination linked to the fact that my wound is throbbing terribly?

"Are we all in?"

Luther's voice snaps me out of this questioning, almost startling me. A short distance away - in the aisle where Klaus has joined him - he's planning to surround Viktor. To surprise him by coming at him from all angles, so that one of them has a chance to get to him. Once again, I'm not going to comment - I'm not legitimate. And even if Klaus opines that it's a suicide mission, the general opinion quickly seems to be sealed.

General? No: Allison's eyes just met mine, and she doesnt agree. For the simple reason that Viktor's their brother, and this is an assault. But Luther isn't even listening to her: he's already assigning the positions from which each of them will dash onto the stage. He completely dismisses any silent feelings she might have, undoubtedly taking advantage of her voice's silence. And in as little time it takes to teleport - he heads to the stage-right side, Diego to the the stage-left side, Five and Klaus absurdly assigned to the front, which is suicide indeed. And I stare back at Allison, who remains as petrified as I am in the middle of the aisle.

"If Luther only tried for a second to understand his power…", I say. Down on the floor, weakened, I can only sigh amid the shimmering air. "… he'd know that Viktor will react to the slightest incursion into this aura".

Perhaps because his brothers are so close, Viktor begins to play a crescendo that tears through my soul. For this is my point: it is no longer possible now to threaten his physical integrity, to enter the bubble of destruction he has enclosed himself in. Doing so would only unleash the immense potential energy he's accumulating. I can tell Allison is aware that I feel it in my flesh, the energy Viktor is raising and channeling. It echoes with my own power, my nerves, my bones. And her speechless gaze questions me: asking me what I would do.

"Viktor is a tuning fork, Allison," I say, trying to push my words over the crackling air. "It's through sound waves that he bends energy."

The difference between Luther and me is that ~I~ have been doing odd jobs on the festivals technical crew, in the summers. My hand reaches for my chest, and the name Led Zeppelin.

"To prevent him from playing… it's his audio feedback: his ear, that should be jammed".

This is not a musical metaphor. Just as Viktor turned off Allison's voice, it's his hearing that should be suppressed, at least temporarily. But on stage, Number One is already shouting an assault order, sealing what's about to happen.

"Now!" he shouts, and this vehemence makes me flinch.

Allison stares at me one last time amidst the dust fallout, as her brother is assaulted from all sides, in the reverberating echoes of his pain, fanned anew. In the immense, audible exhalation of the blinding aura emanating from his bow's magnificent wails.

SHHHHHHRRRAAAAA

We're both thrown to the ground in the middle of the aisle, swept up and blown away by this new blast from Viktor. I expect to see Five, Klaus, Diego and Luther in pieces right in the middle of the seats, but that's not what's happened. When my blindness dissipates, it's to see Viktor gripping them, holding them captive through the energy of their beings, paralyzed to their very nerves. And he has that cold stare that's no longer human.

I pull myself up onto my elbows, Allison crouching nearby, and she sees my eyes fill with pure horror. For I feel in the convections of matter and energy what Viktor is doing, my blood frozen deep inside me, to the point of nausea.

"He's about to drain them," I can only murmur, livid.

To erode the very physical essence of their beings, now with the unshakeable will to kill them.

It only takes Allison a second to grab a gun, amidst the lacerated bodies of the gunmen, and I watch her disappear down the alley, a trickle of icy water sliding through me. I saw the conflict within her, and despite the call to "not kill Viktor" scribbled hastily on her notepad earlier, I just witnessed her doubt. I don't know if she'd listen to me, I don't know what she'll try.

*Crack!*

Against the stage edge, I collapse again, right under Klaus's contorted and transfixed shape. I close my eyes, in a desperate attempt to assess whether my power can at least slow down the erosion Viktor is inflicting. My fists clench, and if I had any breath left, I think I'd be screaming. I painfully sense that now - if I were to let go - they would all turn to dust and radiations, but I'm holding on, I'm struggling, and despite all my efforts, I can feel them wearing away. I can't hold on for much longer. Who could? Despite my will, my strength is running out, and tears of helplessness would come to me, if…

BANG!

Upon the blast of a single bullet, Klaus falls to the floor from some three meters above, almost crashing onto me. Five rolls against the seats, Luther destroys a whole row of them by falling. Diego doesn't even have the reflex to land on his feet like a cat. Everyone gasps for air, panting briefly…

Until a lazer-like beam of light cuts through the theater. Pure, straight, powerful, it passes through the ceiling, in a drastic release of Viktor's accumulated energy. The glass of the ceiling falls in sharp hail around us, in a final crash. Then the beam vanishes, the theater once again bathed in the faint glow of electric lights. No more notes, no more trills, no more vibrations in the air, no more hissing. Silence falls, like the one that precedes everything, or heralds the end. I crawl over to where Klaus has fallen, against the first row of seats.

"Holy shit," I swear unwillingly as I grab him and check he's okay, and he retorts, the swamp green of his eyes stunned but undoubtly very alive. "Jeepers creepers!"

And right away, just like the others, he stands up again. For we all catch a glimpse of Viktor collapsing upstage in Allison's arms, the barrel of the gun still close to his eardrum. She listened to me. She understood what to do to jam his ear. And a buzz of relief fills my head as I realize what we've just avoided.

"We saved the world", Luther congratulates half-heartedly, and I don't dare believe it, I've hoped so many times in vain over the last few days. I slump against the red velvet, clinging to the eternally benevolent glow of the moon through the shattered skylight. Just like on so many chaotic, crazy nights in The City in the past. Just like…

"Klaus?" I open my mouth, flabbergasted again. And I call out to him, as I rarely do, with the sole purpose of getting him to turn around. "KLAUS!"

I just pointed a trembling finger at the sky, and his expression quickly mirrors mine as he stands up there on stage. It's not a hallucination: not of my exhausted consciousness, nor of his brain seared by too many years of getting high. On the pitch-black sky, its jagged silhouette growing larger by the second as it falls inexorably and vertiginously, a Moon rock has just broken off.

What is the reaction when the end of the world is finally upon us? When it's no longer an abstraction, a prospect - even a looming one - but an ongoing reality? In truth, every being in this world, at this moment, probably has the same reaction as we do: to look up at what's coming, in some odd spellbound terror.

The ground quakes. This time, it's not the foundations of the theater, but the very structure of the Earth that is shaking. From dozens of simultaneous impacts of what are 'small pebbles', compared to the lunar-rock monster hurtling in the very direction of the beam that tore it apart.

I think of Granny, probably asleep in front of her drama. At least, for her, for everyone, we've tried everything… I don't know what is the definition of failure, echoed in Diego's voice. But even though we are all together here, we are all collectively alone, at this moment, in the face of the meteor rain that is beginning to fall. No umbrella will protect against this. A derisory fabric shield in the face of the fiery storm. We won't save everyone. We won't save even a few. All we can do… I just felt Five's little blue eyes staring at me.

~All we can do now is implement Plan B~.

"This doesn't have to be the end," he murmurs to the disbelief of his siblings. Including Klaus, who catches the exchange of glances I have with his brother, and - as his explanations unfold - comprehends what we've been planning.

I don't know if it's still possible for us to open a bend in space-time, significant enough to take us all away. We've given a lot in the last few moments, Five has just been partially drained of his energy, and I'm injured. We each teleported half a dozen times. But his point is clear, and besides, what choice do we have? Is there anything left for us to lose, now that the whole city's electrical power is progressivly faltering?

Klaus manages to bring Ben back, which in itself is an agreement to leave. I know that - this time - he's not angry with me for not telling him about this possible outcome. For making a deal with his brother again. Because it's not a question of trusting him or not, this time. Because watching our backs has always been as much in my line as getting my hopes up. And because - he too - has faith in us to succeed.

*Crack!* I teleport to his feet, Ben close by, and try to get up. But I don't have enough strength, and what's left I'd rather save. Luther lifts Viktor, not without hesitation. Did he just praise the fact that the family is reunited at the end of everything, just before considering abandoning him? I'd rather hang on to Five's proposal to try and 'fix' his power: I don't have time to get angry anymore.

Klaus looks down at me as the stage begins to rumble. At this moment, possibly due to the impact of the big meteor, a terrible quake makes us all wobble to the point we all have to hold on to each other. That's what Five and I need anyway: close contact between us all, to be able to jump as one.

As I cling to Klaus's and Ben's ankles, the theater's electric light cuts out, probably like the whole world. Darkness falls over the neo-classical moldings, while Five's full attention is once again focused on me. Then he looks up at the darkness of the ceiling, squints, inhales all the air his lungs can hold. And then, as if we were pulling at two different edges of the same veil, I tear the one of space-time along with him.

Wooshhhh

The anomaly opens up, above our heads, in circular furrows of white and blue light. Narrow at first, small, but expanding gradually as our wills coalesce. As we agreed, I'll let him set the destination, if it's even possible to choose one. This time-jump will be into a relative unknown, apart from the imprint the universe has kept of Five, some five decades in the past. And I cling as tightly as I can to Klaus, to Ben, my fingers possibly clenched so tightly it hurts, while all my nerve endings echo in the space-time continuum.

"Hold on! It's gonna get messy!", Five shouts.

But suddenly I feel Ben's leg matter fading beneath my fingers, and I raise an empty gaze to Klaus. He struggles to keep him tangible, his eyes screwed on the immense temporal vortex that will encompass us as soon as we finally seal it. He's given too much fighting the gunmen, he's at the end of his tether: without even really realizing it, he's losing it. And if Ben found himself dissipated now… I don't know if he'd be taken along.

Part of my focus immediately interweaves with Klaus's, right into Ben's matter, through the spectral flow running through both of them. For a moment, I seem to be made of nothing but energy, splitting my strengths between the vortex and them, no doubt perilously. But no one will be left behind. I can't imagine the tango no longer taking three, for Klaus needs him, at least as much as he needs me.

And my head spins, spins. For a moment, I feel like a child again. Like Bạch Liên, about to teleport to the greenhouse roof to Mom's screams. Like the five-year-old girl who had to rebuild her life on another continent, and is about to do so all over again. Like Marine, at thirteen, the day she shaved the sides of her head. Like Rin, taking her first breath amidst the scattered papers in the City Hall antechamber, after being brought back to life. Like the one of police custody, sewers, squats, retro movie theater, concerts. The one of a few shames, but mostly of all prides. The one made of tears and laughter, fiery outbursts and deep sighs. From the rehab hallways to the skyscraper heights. And finally like the one who could stay here after the end and refused to. My head spins, spins again, as a searing red light rises all around the theater. I close my eyes tighter than ever.

~Lock. Trigger~ ZAP!

In the blink of an eye and as hellfire breaks out, we no longer belong here. Words finally make sense: 'Ut Malum Pluvia', 'when evil rains'. And the rest is silence at last.

---

Notes:

It's not easy to find the right words when you're writing the last word of a story. But this one isn't over, as you know!

I really didn't know what to expect when I started this fic. Choosing the slippery path of a plot parallel to the main storyline, trying not to fall into rewriting, adopting the present tense and the first person singular. In full knowledge of the risks. I hope I've been able to bring you some joy!

If you have read it to the end, even if you've been reading silently so far, drop me a word, even just an emoji! See you very soon for season 2, whatever the year the story takes us now…

---

A bend in space-time, the masterlist :

- Season 1 (complete): Table of contents - Season 2 (complete): Table of contents - Season 3 (complete): Table of contents - Season 4 (in progress) : Table of content

[the-whispers-of-death]

yekaterina, reading that: ...

me: uhhh

yekaterina: now i *really* want to turn him into broth.

yekaterina: and i am NOT living with a man ever again after the death of my husband. i have had enough.

she doesnt like the idea of her kids being away from her. like. at *all*, despite the fact she herself knows she'll not live long enough to see them grow up (or maybe thats exactly why shes so protective)

i feel like the only reason she lets kid!sylvester and kid!butcher roam around so much around wherever is purely because she thinks theyre "grown up" enough to not be stupid (ma'am theyre like. 10) and that shes too busy with raising the rest, who are like 2-7 in age iirc

and she thinks it may be good for sylvester to be around other hybrids (aka naga!stone) (ignoring the fact that she, elizabeth and dominic are werewolves. (technically butcher and marcus too) she thinks diversity may be good)

kdhfhd imagining that the library is a bit of a public space (with the *real* cave library being hidden underneath, just below) and so butcher and sylvester arent the only ones there. meaning theyre not alone when they start getting rowdy. imagining someone starts scolding the fuck outta them about how they need to be silent in libraries, even when they were *barely* above regular talking range. imagining them threatening to call the librarian (naga!stone) to throw kick them out. ((ough, imagining the small spike of fear kid!sylvester gets at the idea of being left in the dust once more))

Someone, to Kid!Sylvester & Kid!Butcher: The librarian will kick you out!

Naga!Stone, appearing behind the person: There will be no kicking anyone out, especially not my son. Though I suggest you leave.

Naga!Stone, to the kids: You're doing fine, sweeties. Though perhaps you should move to another part of the library so that you don't get yelled at by people who think they own the place.

Also, I am spraying Naga!Stone with water because he is about to suggest he give her (and the kids) immortality (the kids will still be able to age, just not die) so she doesn't have to worry about not seeing them grow up.

[brunt-f-c-a]

Here's a vent that's hard to start because it could have so many starts to it but finding the one that gets to the point is hard. It's not uncommon for me to have strong but seemingly useless and out of place memories.

My short term memory is bad but my long term is phenominal. But most of them make sense. A silly quote, a fun antedote, a core memory. But this one doesnt make sense and unfortunately it did so much more lifelong damage than the original comment that started it intended.

I dont even remember what the conversation was. I just remember my brother saying "are we just going to bury you in your underwear and covered in cheeto dust?" And he was making a joke on how he percieved me as a lazy indoor basement nerd. A mild insecurity in my teen and eqrly adult life that i've mostly gotten over. And i've heard enough fat jokes to brush them off so that shouldnt have bothered me. But every time i dig into a bag of chips, or i get crumbs on me, or sometimes when i'm just chilling in my undies i can hear that comment.

It is unusual for thqt to bother me for as long as it has but thinking about it and realizing why it's bothered me has left me with some open wounds to deal with. It wasnt because it was a fat joke. It was because the joke centered around a disrespectful burial. Death is really personal to me. I know how i want to die. If i live to old age and find myself experiencing a poor quality of life or terminal illness i want to be euthanized in dignity and then composted.

Death of a loved one tells you everything you need to know about how thqt loved one was percieved. Prior to this incident my mother had died. That lead to me living with my brother. And at her funeral the only person who cried for her was an 8 year old child too young to realize how fucking evil she was. None of her siblings showed up. A former friend appeared, and left early, the funeral was two years late because the funds to afford it were unimportant, she was buried in a child's grave that i had to dig myself and the only one who put any effort into it was me because i pitied her. I pitied how her behavior drove everyone away from her so severely that nobody even cared about her funeral.

The only people who spoke fondly were people who were kept at a distance. People who didnt know what she was like. The singer was a lady who just went to the church and didnt know her. I did it was my sixth grade algebra teacher who i hated. My sister in law sat next to the urn and played a song on her smart phone that my brother vaguely remembered she liked but that i had never heard her mention and was not exactly appropriate for a funeral. It all felt impersonal. People who were just coming together for an obligation to show compassion and support for a family. But nothing felt like true care. That tells you everything you need to know about her.

So the reason it stuck with me so hard is the idea of being remembered as that joke. A joke. Being remembered as an unclean, unkempt joke. Being remembered as something i always feared being percieved as and felt like very day. And it definitely wasnt supposed to be that deep of an insult. But it echoed for a very long time.

I ran away last september. I havent spoken to my brother since then. I havent spoken to either of my sisters. I call my dad and my aunt. But not a day goes by i dont think about family members and in my little maladaptive daydreaming mind i'm surrounded by people who consider me important and i get to interact with people i care about every day and it's not all complicated.

One time a friend i no longer speak to had taken the time to pull me away from a bad storm hitting the city we lived in. Without that i would have been forced to endure it in my dorm. And when i complained that none of my family gave a damn he got defensive. Insulted even. Because that insinuated i wasnt family. People have two common perceptions of family "your family is the closest thing you have" and "sometimes family isnt blood"9 it didnt occur to him that for me it was neither. My dad was gone, my older siblings ran away, my sister acted lie she hated me and my mom beat tf out of me on the regular. Family in my mind doesnt even register as something that is important at all. Unless i'm just fantasizing. I have such a poor grip on what family looks like that it didnt occur to me he was family by most people's standard. He left too, so i guess in some ironic way he was just like family.

Now i have people who i know care. And a person who is willing to grow with me. But i never really look at these people and think family.

[totentnz]

6, 22, and 45 please!

unusual headcanons

6. what do they normally dream about? nightmares or nonsense?

my headcanon is that v & johnny dream of each other's lives a lot. so for example when she goes to bed she will dream about his time in the army while he dreams about her time living in gang territory.

this doesn't happen every time, sometimes she just dreams but johnny is always there as well, whether or not both of them remember it is another question entirely.

she does have nightmares frequently, it's gotten worse every since johnny showed up but she doesnt want to make that connection.

22. do they have a fear they want to conquer, but haven’t yet?

when it comes to fears three things come to mind: 1. cyberpsychosis, 2. ghosts/ paranormal stuff and 3. being put in the ground

v IS technically a cyberpsycho (thanks johnny) but once again she doesn't make that connection. i talked about her aversion to cyberware here but to tl;dr: she KNOWS she needs chrome to keep up with everyone else but her fear of becoming a cyberpsycho keeps her from getting more than the bare basics. so she either overcomes that fear or she will be left behind.

her fear of ghosts/ horror/ paranormal stuff is just a funny lil quirk i gave her lmao it's nothing she needs to get over or even really wants to. she might be a bit embarrassed about it but that's about it.

this is a bit more complicated. she's afraid of death as much as everyone else. (though she will go around and pretend she doesn't care) what she's truly afraid of is the idea of her remains. she isn't gonna be buried in the ground since that's not canon-compliant but even the idea of a niche freaks her out. graves are for the living and she doesn't want to become a sort of pillar for her loved ones grief and sadness. as her next of kin her brother vincent has very specific instructions on what to do, when she finally does bite the dust. i COULD tell you about it but i won't, since i plan on writing about it at some point lmao.

45. what’s their dream job / profession? do they have one?

v doesn't have a dream job, mostly because she has been doing merc work since she was a teenager. it's what she's always done and will do until the day she dies. (HAHA)

she has worked other jobs as well, being a netrunner hacker is expensive since you always need to be on top of your tech.

she has worked in a tech repair shop, at a stripclub (as a bartender), waiting tables and every other odd job you can think of. she has a tendency to get fired/ quit however.

[solardick]

While the stories play toss ball. And all the “i didn’t say that” you said that” back and forth is nauseating. Makes fallowing the news. Irksome.

Fear WWW. Get it? World war 3?

But let’s fallow the screws of the news. It’s all new to me.

I think the first cloud portent i witnessed was 21 years ago. It was the hammer and sickle and a syringe.

But, i dint think any of it matters. After all these years think im going to die of lungcancer or sometthing. Anyway. It doesnt stop hurting. And now theybhave me working in a plant where i breathe in toxic dust all day. But maybe ill have one good year. Out of my life time. The christmas present this year of coughing up blood as given me permanent lung damage. If i ever find myself wanting to live. I’ll probably just have the equal stress of worrying and stress of death and sickness anyways. Because its all ive ever known. Always have been a constant external pressure bearing down in me since childhood. But, we’ll see. Im not going to spend the last fee years of my life fighting it internally. As the foreign body switches places from the external to the internal. Its all very depressing.

Facts are. Life is too expensive to live on ones own. One will never be able to afford anything. Even with not smoking. And moving to a new appartment. With the price tag. Ill be making even less than i am now. 800 to 900 a month plus expenses. Yeah. Its not going to happen. No money for retirement. Truth is there is no security. In life. Never has been. I dont know whya that feels like. Even after 40 years of being alive. Just one fucker after the other fucken with me since birth. You dhould have seen them all line up for raping me the other year. They all wanted to see me go down.

I side with the russians. How can i not. I identify with the war effort. Even with the well rehearsed speach putin gave about fighting agaisnt the outside influences of america’s brain washing degenerating media perverting humanity. And the outside wourld threatening my existance with the equilavant of nuclear war. Pluto running the gambit of fear and dominance secretly behind the lines agaisnt me. All my life. To know stability is a fantasy. Love is just anoyher weapon even more costly than hate.

My favourite part of the speech is when is starts speaking about nazi’s and then finishes off the paragraph with. It’s all abunch of lies. But in a way that offsets the impression that what is meant isn’t him openly lying about it. Which was the point. And then even a couple years later. The allied media forces call them nazies. Back and forth. Wonder if there will be open war. What new kinds of technology will be released in the world.

So far its just a bunch of manned RC planes. Increasing the productionnof robotic tenchnologies that will continue on long after the war ends.

At any rate all is good. Play field medic. Gave of easter received of easter. To combine the war effort to personal experience hasn’t changed much beyond leaving it all behind. But, time will see.

Putin cruising his hood.

Rip X

Putin went on at length about the Americans. After stating them as allies. And stresses the neglect of international laws. A large section of the Russian’s declaration of war was against the Americans. Taunting them to attack to witness the consequences. A nation threatening nuclear war, stating they can defend themselves while speaking of technologies. The national threats have a world stepping on eggshells. Wanting to join. Afraid of the consequences if they do.

While at the same time being an antidote for the ills faced by the multiples of one. Removes the power behind the gallows. And solidifies position. The emperor in the tarot. Is up against the upsurge to its decline. Adding in the archetypes. Already set by position. Switches the side of unbalanced influences. Against the rule.

Gotta bring them together.

And truth is a lot of people fantasize about living in a war zone. The zombie apocalypse. Peace and love! Go watch the walking dead.

Fly! My pretties

Be the avengers! You’re all survivors! Ha Ha ha Ha ha.

An empire of lies. Or it is to my understanding. This being. Glimpse of the rhetoric. Or what is perceived to be. And in here lies the problem.

For it has nothing to do with patriotism.

[miraculous-pyromaniac]

I am nearly silent about the things i write, both irl and unfortunately on my blog as well, for different reasons.

The simplest reason is my silence irl bc i kind of just dont have anyone to talk to my ideas about. My closest friends generally dont have any intrest in fanfiction and even if they were, me and my friends participate in very seperate fandoms and sometimes struggle to overlap our intrests. So i just generally keep my fanworks to myself most of the time.

I also dont talk about my work much on my blog either(which is kinda the only social media i use) and thats mainly because im just not the type of person who enjoys broad social media engagement, so i just rarely make my own posts.

This all kind of leads to bursts of hyperfixation and progress on any stories or WIPs i have that come about randomly and long droughts of my content.

Also i have this huge anxiety about people seeing any idea i would post about and 'stealing' it from me. Like this is a constant anxiety for me, idk why. Im probably hesitating to hit post on this post and then thinking of deleting it.

Like obviously a writer doesnt want to post spoilers for something theyre working on, but im paranoid to even post ideas for possible fics i may think of for new WIPs, leaving my ideas to rot alone in my mind until i lose intrest bc i have no one to talk to about them.

Anyway, in what im sure is a healthy way to overcome this apparent fear ive just realised i have, ima post a list of WIPs and ideas that are currently collecting dust, most of them i beleive seeing light from my dark google docs cave for the first time ever

Most of these mare miraculous labybug ideas

A miraculous soulmate AU based around Chloe where her initial meeting with her soulmate ends up with them basically dead from a speeding truck. The story is Chloe's journey of navigating the world angry and jealous of everyone else who has soulmates and learning how to deal with that stuff. Ace medifore maybe? Idk just seemed like a fun idea.

A miraculous Myvan AU where Master Fu had the 'native american miracle box'(Which i refer to as the Thunderbox) instead of the 'Chinese miracle box'(aka the Motherbox). He pickes Mylene and Ivan to be heroes weilding new miraculous of my design against an enemy who holds the Motherbox, with more than half the miraculous within being heavily damaged/destoyed. Shown by the below image(right of the red line completely unuseable, on red line damaged but technically funtional like a canon peacock, left of the line are undamaged)

A Percy Jackson story with OCs made by me and by bff which would run parallel to the canon story where I play with background characters and plot to create my own stories. The MC is the child of a goddess so minor Riordon never mentioned her, Euphrosyne, and a devout champion of Hestia.

And even a couple of original story ideas like

An 'everyone has a superpower' concept where the MCs are all artificial 'bornx from a kid whose power is to create new people by giving up parts of their soul. While not a completely original power in this world, its unique by the fact that the MCs here have their own powers, unlike other people created from such a power. This leads to the goverment trying to capture and use this kid to custom create soldiers.

A magical college type story where the MC is a healer in love with a plant mage, which eventually becomes mutual and loving relationship things until plant mage is suddenly killed by an assassin, sending MC on a revenge spiral. Said assassin is MC#2 who is being used by shady folks as an assassin due to her particular abilty for death magic. The two of them team up to dismantle the shady organisation and maybe a goverment later on. Their relationship is also completely non-romantic, but they grow extreamly close to each other.

Uh yeah. I have ideas. I just never talk about them.

Out of genuine curiosity, to fanfic writers in the world, how vocal are you about the fic you write on your blog? I never know when to start talking about my ideas and eventually the lack of traction or discussion has my passion fizzle out with nobody knowing the idea existed at all (except me, of course) anyway im simply curious :)

[sir-phillip-crane]

do you have any headcanons about Cassandra's relationship with each member of vox machina?

oh MAN do I

scanlan - she LOVES scanlan. honestly, absolutely adores him. it was just like, right away, he knew what to do and how to help her. she had a little crush on him if she’s being honest, but wont say shit about it. why? because when VM visits, he’ll sing to her, he’ll sit with her after she has nightmares, and he will, with her permission, lay in bed with her. he treats her just like he would anyone else - inappropriate, flirty jokes - and it makes her feel not as messed up

vax - one of the other members she crushed on. they're both rogues and spent time teaching each other their preferred fighting methods, so she bonded with him quick. she enjoys his company and *spoiler* misses him after his deal with the raven queen results in his death

vex - she really loves vex. vex ends up extremely protective of her, especially *spoiler* after she loses vax. she teaches her how to do her hair when it finally starts getting long.

percy - surprisingly... i think she has a lot of bad feelings towards him. because when she looks at it, he left her. he could have, should have come to check if she was alive. or even try to save her. but he just left her, bleeding out in the snow. it was severly traumatic and i think it makes her hate him a bit. further, she resents that he is constantly off galavanting with friends while shes stuck trying to revive whitestone.

keyleth - she has Many feelings about keyleth. mostly, at first, confusion and sort of fear. she wasnt comfortable waking up to see a stranger with antlers who, when she screamed in fear, immediately reacting by screaming back then hugging her. after thr dust settles, though, she is incredibly fond of her and harbors a crush for a while. I do wanna emphasize that Cassandra develops crushes very easily after years of unhealthy "affection" from the briarwoods and probably not as much affection as she needed with the de Rolos (she was one of, like, 7 kids and her parents obviously still had to run the city). once she sees keyleth give vex an excited hug and is like wow if keyleth did that to me I'd probably fall in love with her. rhen keyleth does and Cassandra's like by the Dawnfather this cannot be happening.

grog - besties, basically. they're training partners so Cassandra can practice combatting bigger targets and grog can practice combatting small/quick moving targets. also, after seeing a post about it, I hc Cassandra with dyslexia, so they bond quick over the struggle to read/write. Cassandra still has more trouble with it as running whitestone involves lots of paperwork, but being with him reminds her that shes not an idiot.

pike - probably spends the least amount of time with her tbh, sorry pike. she does like pike, she just doesnt exactly have any common ground with her to bond over. percy also probably tries to make cass tell someone (*cough* pike *cough*) about her trauma and she doesnt like doing anything like that.

trinket - best boy. best best best boy. she loves him so so so much. every now and then when vm is in whitestone (or post canon) she can be found snuggling with him and her cat as she talks through whatever problem she cant figure out.