#and i'm going to be stuck in this body until i die. Cool

[divineturtle]

Bothers me when I'm reading a fanfic and they make Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy just like. A mean asshole? MY Doctor McCoy introduced Spock to baby talk. MY Doctor McCoy bounces on his toes and has a smile bright as the sun. MY Doctor McCoy knocked Kirk *and* Spock out with a hypo to sacrifice himself for them even though the aliens said he was almost for sure going to die, and the other two would probably live. MY Doctor McCoy was like, hey, sure Spock committed mutiny, but do we really gotta arrest him? Yeah he's grumpy sometimes, but have you considered the fact that he's stuck on a ship in Space with two assholes that literally never listen?

I just watched the Abraham Lincoln episode and I stg it's a miracle McCoy isn't actually a huge asshole, because wym "this planet WAS deadly but Abraham Lincoln says it's cool so we're going" "hey, don't do that, you could beam down into lava and literally DIE" "Ugh shut UP McCoy we're following Abraham Lincoln onto the Lava Planet That WAS ENTIRELY LAVA until two minutes ago" dude I'd be swinging at a mfer. Especially if I was their doctor knowing it was going to be my job to sew them back together. They're absolute menaces to him and he still loves them and is willing to die for them every other episode.

And I don't ever want to see another "ahh he hates Spock" when he so obviously does not. In the last episode, he wasn't even sure that Kirk and Janice had swapped bodies and yet again, he was ready to commit mutiny with Spock and Scotty (why does Spock love mutiny? 🤨) He does like to rib Spock and get reactions out of him, but Spock likes to do it to McCoy just as much. He's been around humans his ENTIRE life, his mom is a human, he's half human, "I have no idea what you mean, Doctor, I'm just a simple little logic machine," you cannot convince me it's not a game.

And every time I feel like McCoy is being hurtful for actually no reason, the next scene is Spock taking action because of whatever McCoy had said and allowing himself to tap into that human part of him. He has a way of speaking Spock. It's not always nice but it's a way that gets through. Do you think asking Spock to use his Vulcan powers to permanently alter his friend and captain's memory so he forgets his grief over this chick he fell desperately for and then also she died in the span of like four hours is a great idea? No, he'd probably have some moral or logical issues with that. but just speech at him about love and feelings and stuff, throw something in there about how great it'd be if he could just forget, and he'll do it himself.

ANOTHER THING. When he's an asshole, he apologizes. He's not an asshole often, but when he is, he apologizes. Leonard McCoy is a lot of things, but he's not really a dick.

I think he deserves to be represented for the guy he is. He has SO many nice and good moments, he's just subtle about them. Remember when Kirk was like, "Bones, why didn't you tell me she was blind?" And he was like, "Idk Jim maybe because that'd be rude? Have you considered it's not your business?" REAL. Honestly, real.

This is a much longer rant than I meant for it to be and somehow I still have more I could say so imma cut myself off right here ❤️ If you read all that, thanks, you're just as weird as I am, even if you don't agree with my lil character analysis. If you didn't read all that, then you're not reading this ✨️

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Mcr headcanon: y/n (gn) is starring in a horror movie and they’re character d!es in the movie.

Like they d!e in a HORRIBLE way, like horrifying way, how do the boys react to it?

TW: mentions of a fictional character's death, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy

Gerard

I'm literally on my way back from a Yosakoi festival after getting up at 3am (it's 9pm currently, I had 4 hours of sleep), and my feet have been in soaking wet shoes for the past 10 hours (I think they're starting to develop gills) because the rainy season decided to made a comeback and they had to cancel the fireworks because of that (at a festival that's called a "fire carnival" of all events), and you're coming with this? Not formatted properly because I'm literally sitting in a bus, that's driving through the Kyūshū night while I have glitter stones stuck to my face and two braids with Yukata-hair-accessories on my head.

WC: ???

Assuming Gerard knows what's gonna happen, he's probably looking forward to it. He's sitting in your living room, watching the screen attentively, the snacks you were sharing long forgotten as his eyes follow the action. He's leant forward, ellbows on knees, asking "oh, is this where it happens?" in an almost gleeful voice. Depending on how sudden the scene happens, he either gets jumpscared or just follows the story like the most interesting lecture. Either way he ends up laughing, and leaning back into the couch once it's over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead. "Well done," he'll tell you with his lips pressed to your forehead.

Would he watch that movie again: sure! It's a good movie! Next time he'd like to discuss the foreshadowing of the ending through the use of colours and the weather in the early scenes of the movie.

Mikey

Mikey loves horror movies, and that his s/o is staring in one is just a major plus to him. He has a lot of experience with horro movies, so he catches on pretty early that your character is going to die, even if you didn't tell him. He would low-key get excited about it. A voice in the back of his head tells him that 15 or 20 years ago the idea of watching a character that has the face of a beloved person die on screen would have terrified him, even though he was very well able to tell fiction from reality, but now he just enjoys the action, as he feels you cuddled into his side. He might even go as far as offer ideas for even more gruesome deaths, or ways to make the character's death even more painful for the audience.

Would he watch that movie again: absolutely! Has the potential to become a new favourite of his.

Side note: my seatmate just fell asleep on my shoulder. I shall not move until she wakes up.

Ray

Ray would generally be pretty chill about it. He grew up with horror movies too, and he is used to seeing you on screen, so he isn't all too bothered by it, but probably more bothered than Gerard. He doesn't show it all too openly, only pulls you in after the scene is over and praises your work. The only indication that he is more affected by it than he lets on is when he pulls you in a little tighter that night, holding you close to his warm body with his nose buried against your neck. (Seatmate just tried sitting up, and failed. Head is back on my shoulder.)

Would he watch that movie again: he wouldn't necessarily bring it up by himself. If he wants to see you act, there are other movies you're in, where you get a happy end, or at least don't die (he prefers watching those over watching your character die, even if he has to suffer through watching you kiss another actor or actress in front of the camera. It always makes him a bit more self-conscious watching you kiss those perfect people, even if it's not real, and he get a bit more clingy than usual for a few days afterwards.)

Seatmate sat up again, is leaning towards the other side now.

Frank

Frank plays is cool, but isn't. Like the others he has seen enough horror movies and has seen you enough on screen. He's even okay with your characters making out with other characters on screen, even though he does have a (well controlled) possessive side that usually tries to act up when some person is hitting on you. (Seatmate's head is back on my shoulder. She's so cute.) So he knows he shouldn't feel that pit in his stomach opening, it's just fiction after all, you're right here next to him, babbling about how hot the studio was that day while playing with his fingers. Still he closes his eyes at the last shot showing your character staring up right past the camera with lifeless eyes. He has watched your characters die on screen before, but something about the way this is portrayed hits different. "Whoa, that looked pretty real," he'd chuckle, his voice a little more shaky than he'd like to admit, "rad acting there!" Luckily you know him well enough to see through his facade. You know he's self-conscious about his feelings towards this scene, so you don't address it directly, but you scoot a little closer to him at night, and he takes the invitation, and wrappes you in his arms (which is rare, since he usually needs a little bit of space to fall asleep).

Would he watch that movie again: only if you asked and he couldn't come up with an excuse not to watch it. He'd rather not see this last shot of your face again.

And since nobody asked, you get a picture of our banner

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 1)

It wasn't long after Uzi restored N and V's memories that N began to stay over at her “apartment.” more often.

It started when he sheepishly knocked on her door one morning, chassis slightly steaming and looking guilty, tail laying flat against the floor.

“H-H-Hey U-U-zi” His voice was so glichy it was nearly impossible to hear what exactly he was saying, his visor angerly blinking, warning him that he was overheating, as if that wasn't immediately obvious.

“Holy shit! N!” Uzi was immediately concerned, leaning in to help her best freind and to lead him inside, she went to grab his hand to help him. Only to be immediately burned, the temperature of his plating feeling like a stove top.

“Y-y-eah, I'm kinda h-h-ooo-t right now.” He explained as if he wasn't about to melt in front of her. She sprinted to her room, grabbing the canister of oil she'd been sipping on and shoving it in his mouth.

He drank it deeply, emptying the entire container rather quickly, steam plumed around him and he sighed, his joints groaning from the quick constriction back to form.

“Oh wow, that was a little closer than I would have liked. Thanks Uz!” He brightened immediately, tail curling up and beginning to wag, a beaming smile on his face.

“N! What happened? I've never seen you that hot before!” She motioned him in, looking into the hallway to make sure nobody saw him enter. It wouldn't help the already rampant rumors about her. About them.

“Uh, V is in one of her moods after I tried reminiscing with her, she shoved me and I fell into the sunlight.” His explanation was not lacking in enthusiasm, seemingly not thinking about how close the death he just came.

“And she didn't get you oil because…?” Uzi questioned, trying to not notice how he looked around her house in awe, glancing around at everything.

“Oh, because the oil we have is old and a little chunky, it would have taken too long to cool me off before I started to go offline.” He explained, picking up a picture of her father and her, when she was a pill.

“Awww, baby Uzi!”

Blushing, she swiped the picture out of his hands and put it back down.

“Bite me! I'm not cute!” She snapped at him, only for him to laugh lightly, as if that action itself proved whatever point he was trying to make.

“Whatever you say!” He grinned, walking off to pick up another trinket off the shelf and turn it in his hands.

“This isn't the first time you've been here, you've seen it before, also you almost just died. Priorities!”

“I actively avoid thinking about the times I almost die. Also look!” He brought her attention to a picture of her, in a toddler body, bashing her dad in the head with a wrench.

“Looks like you were good with tools even when tiny!” He cooed at her image, Uzi grumbled, trying and failing to swipe the picture from his hands.

“Also, I was unconscious for most of the time I was here. I didn't get to see all your adorable droneling pictures!” He threw his hands up, tail wagging wildly.

Adorable?

“N!” She shouted in indignation, fists balling up and stomping her foot like the was throwing a tantrum.

He put the picture back on the shelf, giggling at her, if he was anyone else she would have bitten back a little harder, but he was incredibly difficult to stay mad at, especially with that crooked, dopey smile.

“Well, I guess I'm stuck with you until nightfall…” She murmured, honestly she had started to become nocturnal herself, being unable to touch sunlight after her strange, fleshy transformation at camp, switching over seemed to be the better option.

“I was about to get ready for bed, if you wanna-”

“Sleepover!” He shouted immediately, looking like he just got the best Christmas gift ever. Uzi couldn't help but smile at him, he was always so endlessly positive.

“Uh, yeah… I guess.” She turned to look aloof, but to also hide her growing fluster, which had been growing more and more common since prom.

She drug him into her room by the arm, partly just to get him away from more of her pictures. And slammed the door behind her. Sighing softly.

When she opened her eyes again, N was sitting on her bed, well more laying, as he was a little too tall to comfortably sit upright without touching the ceiling, and was looking at her nightmare board.

“Mmm. This looks like repressed memories.” He said off-handedly, and he was partly correct, some of them were nightmares, some were things she'd rather be only in her nightmares.

“Just nightmares N.” She replied, going into the corner of the room to find a comfortable shirt to change into. Only to look at N, to realize he was still in his overcoat and hat.

“You want to wear something more comfortable then that coat?” She asked, still pulling through the mountain of clothes.

“Huh? Oh uh, if you have something that fits me.”

Fair enough, he was quite a bit taller than any other worker drone. Especially her.

But luckily, she had hoarded clothes over the years, and finally fished something out that was way too big for her. But would probably fit him just fine. A thin lilac shirt that said. “My Girlfriend Thinks I'm Tall.”

The universe really wanted to shove this crush in her face today. Didn't it?

Whatever, the universe could bite her.

“Here.” She threw the shirt up at him and continued to search for something that suited her. Finally, she saw a faded yellow shirt that read; I'm a Big Freakin’ Ray of Sunshine

Perfect

She turned, only to find N standing naked in the middle of her room, the shirt folded in one hand and his coat draped over the other.

“N!” She immediately whipped around to face the wall, her temperature rising quickly, a violent blush taking over her face.

“What?” He hummed, seemingly unperturbed by being nude in front of her, taking his sweet ass time putting the shirt on.

“You're naked!”

“And? The only difference between us is armor plating.” He responded, pulling the shirt over his head. His voice laced with confusion.

“Still! You don’t see me stripping in front of you!”

N paused for a moment, seemingly pondering this. Before he clicked his tongue.

“I wouldn't mind it, you seem to forget that none of the corpses that make up the spire have clothes.” That made her jump, sometimes she forgot he was a disassembly drone, with his cheerful, loving attitude. And it made her feel a little weird, did all of the worker drones really look so similar?

Did he not think of her as different?

“N-No, I don't care how many you've seen. I don't want you to see me.”

She heard N make some kind of noise, then heard him step out and close the door. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, shit, she didn't realize N would be so nonchalant about it.

She quickly got changed, and reopened the door for N, who met her gaze with a slight blush, and who's hands were shifting against each other awkwardly. Clearly, he'd known he'd said something wrong and overthought it.

“Erm, sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, and I didn't mean to imply that… you look like every other worker drone. Because you don't- uh…” He broke from her gaze for a moment, and his tail flicked irritability. What she could see of his visor he was? Blushing? Maybe?

“You don't look like anyone else. You look like you, and you are my best friend.”

Or maybe he did.

“It's okay, you kinda walk around without pants anyway.”

“So does V!” He defended, before they both dissolved into laughter, awkward moment being pushed aside.

“Come on, let's choose something to watch.” And they walked back into her room, N following as she pulled put a drawer, letting him look at the movies she had.

“A lot of them are animated, looking at live action humans is a little freaky to me.” She admitted, watching as he held each box in his hands. Reading the description of each.

“Oooh, this one is about robots!” He grinned, showing off on of the boxes to her.

“Wall-E? I haven't seen that since I was little.” She vaguely knew it was sappy though, which knowing N, he may have picked up on as well.

‘Yeah sure…” She picked up her homebrew laptop and shoved the disk into the reader, before looking around for a place for both of them to sit.

Her couch was currently covered in railgun parts, where she has been trying (and kinda failing) to repair it after it exploded, she'd nearly had to start from scratch.

But then that left her bed… which would probably end up with the both of them being in pretty close proximity, even more so with how excitable N could get.

N made the choice for her, climbing up to her bed and giving her his hand to help her up.

She blushed, looking away as she took his hand as was hoisted up quickly enough to disorient her, thankfully she didn't loose grip on the laptop.

She landed in his lap, she could tell that much by the ambient warmth radiating from his core, she felt him lean down over her shoulder to start the movie, some of his silvery hair tickling her cheek.

Ah, shit this escalated, does he realize how close we are right now?

Apparently not, as he readjusted himself he forced them closer, Uzi leaning fully against his chest, his head looming above her as she was curled on his lap.

She was extremely happy he couldn't see her visor, which she was sure was nothing but purple at this point.

Still, she eventually relaxed into it, realizing that this was one of the only ways they'd both truly fit on the bed while still being able to see the screen.

She just… didn't remember the movie being so… romantic?

The way Wall-E swooned over Eva's sleek design, melted at her voice, showed her his collection of weird human things… for once she could kinda relate, looking up at the disassembly drone, who's eyes were locked onto the screen.

“Awww, he likes her!” He pointed out when Wall-E tried to hold her hand, and all Uzi could do was shake her head, of course he'd be into romance, that was just so… N.

“Kinda reminds me of when we first met.” She said without thinking, before her words caught up with her and she realized what she was implying.

Luckily, either N didn't call her out or simply didn't notice.

“Yeah… her arm cannon thing is really similar to your railgun.”

Oh thank Robo-Jesus that's what he took from that.

“I don't think you were swooning over me though, with me trying to kill you and everything.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

“Uh- Pfft, I wouldn't swoon over anyone N.”

Yes. Nice Save.

“Thad?” N mentioned, eyes still trained on the screen. Although his tone had shifted slightly, although she couldn't fathom why.

“Ew. No. Sports Jock is not my type, he's just not mean to me.” They both jumped when a lightning strike hit Wall-E as we was trying to recharge her.

“I'm not sure what I'd do if you suddenly went offline like that.” N's voice was uncertain, like it was something he'd been thinking on.

“You worry about that?” Uzi replied, trying to ignore the way her core sped up, but wait his did too.

“Of course, with everything going on I'm afraid someone is going to get hurt in a way I can't fix…” One of his arms wrapped around her, seeking comfort, making her jump slightly.

She wasn't used to other people caring about her to this extent, in the way she knew N did, he was her ride or die and she knew that, and it was worth so much to her.

“If you're talking about V, she can kill us both before taking a breath.”

But showing him that was too scary.

“I don't worry about her as much as I worry about you.” His head rested on hers for a moment, as he watched Wall-E hold onto the side of the spaceship for dear life.

She felt herself smiling, face warm. He was such a wonderful friend, he was one of the only people that truly cared about her.

“I'll be fine… Bite me….” He chuckled, sensing no aggression behind her words. And they fell into comfortable silence, getting reabsorbed back into the movie.

Uzi found herself melting pleasantly in his warmth, she'd expected him to be warm, with his constant need for oil, but had expected it to be more unpleasant, instead it was lulling her to sleep quite rapidly. She felt… safe. And that was weird considering she was cudd- uh leaning against a drone who could end her life before she could even finish her next thought.

But she knew he'd never do that, he would rather melt into a puddle than lay an aggressive hand on her, and in a way that made her feel special, even though he would do the same for any of the worker drones in the bunker.

“Oh she looks really upset…” Her eyes refocused on the screen, Eve shouting at Wall-E while her words faded into the background, showing he wasn't listening.

“He did follow her into space.”

“For love!”

“She doesn't know that, although pretty sure she'd still be mad if she did… it really wasn't a smart decision.” Uzi deadpaned, groaning at N's partly fake offense.

“Love is always the best decision!”

Then please don't let me go

She shook off that thought with a shake of her head, settling back against his chest, realizing his arm was still around her and his head still laid on hers.

They were actually cuddling now, there would be no denying that. But Uzi couldn't bring herself to be upset by it even if a part of herself was screaming about her “reputation.” and her “critical lack of edge.”

“Am I putting you to sleep?” N asked, his voice soft and soothing, it sent pleasant streams of data straight to her core.

“I've already seen the movie, and… you're really warm.” She admitted, looking up onto to find he was looking back at her.

“You don't have to stay awake for me then.”

His eyes were honey, pure and sweet and looking down at her like she was a precious gem. She smiled, eyes dimming as she fell into sleep mode. Was this still just a crush? It didn't feel like one, with the way her core felt full and heavy like it was about to come out of her chest. Was this what love was like? She didn't know, she'd never felt anything close to it before.

[Sleep Mode] appered on her visor and N felt her relax fully into him, letting out a content sigh that made yellow spring to his cheeks. His attention slowly turning to the movie again.

She nuzzled into him in her sleep, making the robot equivalent of a squeak as she did. His core felt light, and a small laugh fell out of his mouth.

He worried about her constantly, with her strange powers and her transformation, she'd put herself in danger, always bravely going into it with so much confidence it tended to rub off on him even if he was nervous. But he still worried, she was still a worker, still small, still so much more fragile. And recently, he'd seen her lacking in confidence, terrified.

Even if she would tell him to bite her if he dared ever call her any sort of fragile. She meant so much to him, his closest friend that he could always count on to be patient with him. She could be prickly, sure, but that was more of a shield she put up to protect herself. Much like the padding of optimism he'd wrapped himself in.

He was really upset knowing how the rest of the colony treated her, as if she was some sort of diseased stray cat that needed to be avoided. It was awful! Uzi had the potential to be so sweet, and it was sad to see her having to create this shell to hide that part of herself.

“Mm… N…” She mumbled in her sleep, and he subconsciously pulled her closer, he'd stopped paying attention to the movie long ago, that was okay, he was recording everything anyway, he'd be sure to pay more attention then.

He was going to make his best freind feel wanted. Like he'd wanted to feel, like she made him feel.

Sleep mode came quickly for him too, until all the sound that escaped the room was the sound of the laptop, until that too died down to nothing.

Next ->

[optimist-pine]

Dermatillomania (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of the fall of the Greene Farm in a way your therapist would not approve of.

Warnings: Typical TWD content! Dermatillomania (BFRB's, self-inflicted injury), mentions of death, etc.

Word Count: 719

Era: Follows directly after the season 2 finale

A/n: Just a personal vent... Dunno if anyone else relates.

It hadn't been easy to stop necessarily, but anything other than going cold turkey hadn't really been an option. When you absentmindedly find yourself starting to pick, a quick reminder that it could get you killed is all it takes to shut it down. Most of the time anyways... Tonight though? Oh, tonight you've fallen into old habits so fast and hard that you're stuck there in that state, in the worst session you've had since it all began.

You're tucked away in your own little corner of the ruins and firelight, shadowed enough that no one's really paying attention to what you're up to. At some point, your arms have come out of the sleeves of your coat and it's shrugged loosely around you, leaving skin exposed to the chilly air. You don't notice.

It's all catching up now, all replaying in your mind like the final straw has been plucked. That horrible night at the quarry, the panic when what had been a safe place was so quickly turned into a graveyard. Leaving Jim to die. The terror at the CDC of almost being murdered as a mercy. Leaving Jacqui to die. Sophia... Dale... The farm could've been a safe place, you'd truly believed it until they were somehow just - everywhere. Patricia, Jimmy, Shane... Leaving Andrea to die...

You can feel how it's all too much for your mind to handle, how it's trying to relieve the pressure in this way. It's no good, but your body doesn't know better and you don't know how to make it stop. You can't make any of it stop. Your fingernails desperately search raw skin for any bump, or blemish, or imperfection. They're everywhere. Maybe you'd feel ashamed if bigger and uglier emotions weren't cramming it out of the way.

The cold air cools drops of hot blood on your skin, you can feel it, and yet you feel separate from it simultaneously. Like the same way you breathe without thinking about the breathing part. The fire crackles low and leaves rustle out in the trees as the others hunker down. Nobody's really sleeping though. Not tonight.

Daryl's keeping watch on the perimeter when his eyes settle on you. Your fingers pause in their assault; you can't continue with an audience. Please just look away so I can keep going, some darkness in your mind pleads. But no, you scramble to pull the coat over yourself to conceal the evidence.

"What's this?" He asks, his voice low enough that the others won't really notice.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You can't meet his eyes, shame has finally pushed its way to the forefront now.

You don't try to stop him as he slides the coat off your shoulder, revealing your handiwork. Even in the darkness, you're sure the ugly redness has to be so obvious. You're not only weak, you're weak and stupid.

He pulls your backpack over and digs through it. "Your first aid kit in here?"

You nod once, but that only initiates the tears. What feeling are they from? Anger? Guilt? Fear? This was always the worst part, hating what you've done and wishing for nothing more than to go back and undo it. After everything that had happened... pathetic.

Daryl finds the antibacterial spray and gets to work. His care and surprising tenderness only make you feel that much worse. You were so incapable of handling yourself that you've got a full-grown man treating you like... like the broken thing that you are.

After that he takes a couple of bandages and wraps them around your upper arms, fingers steady and slow. "Leave 'em alone an' let 'em heal. You're tougher than that." He packs up the supplies, helps you fit your arms back into the sleeves, then waits. You're not sure what he expects from you, but then he mimes a zippering motion. You comply and close up your coat. With a single nod, he turns and returns to his watch of the dark surrounding forest.

Maybe you're just thoroughly messed up, but you trade the repeating images in your mind for his words. The past. You have to leave it alone. You have to let it heal. You're here, now, in the present. Alive. You would be tough enough to stay that way. You would.

[chim-aera]

be good to me

I feel heavy, tired. like dew laden grass wet and scraping stuck to the back of my ankles like plaster of paris, like paper mache dripping and course, glue running down my thighs making every step more and more difficult.

I want to be light. deer light, fawn fast. rabbit racing. I want to bolt and run and run and run. through meadows and glades, let me be Atalanta let me be free. but I sink knee deep into the earth and Gaia gently lifts me out of her mires, setting me carefully onto my own trembling two feet.

everyone is moving quicker then me. flitting like bejeweled little dragonflies into their next chapter, their next page, while I'm left stuttering, stammering in between inkwells trying to wipe the murky stains across my palms trying to force in my own meager scribbles to fit somewhere, anywhere, then my own fragile mindscape.

I'm tired of being a poet im tired of being pathetic

I haven't picked up the pen in months, ages. too long, yet not long enough. I try to hold them down, clench my teeth like stark white enamel shining sentries yet the melonchaly worms its way out of my throat until it's spat into my palm all convoluted and chipper like an owl hacking up a pellet and instead spitting out its own beak.

I'm so tired.

I want to be loved.

gods damn it.

I want to be loved.

I always figured I'd prefer a dear destruction, enjoyable and pleasurable, soak me in honey, bitter with aconite, smile and call me darling as you drown me alive. as hands, rough and tender, crush my windpipe, as it was nearly done oh so long ago.

pull me down by my hair, yank me up by my chin, hold me down. with force, with chains, push me into the floor, the earth, Gaia winces, for I'm no Daphne, be it may, but no bark, no wooden armor will grace this fragile form of mine. no, I'm out in the open as all the hounds' fair game.

call me pretty as you summon forth my destruction, yet put me back together with soft words and praises. I'm used to sewing needles and crimson thread. the seams crude and trying, like everything I ever do if you dare to look close enough.

gods. gods I dont think I want to be destroyed anymore.

I want to be held. I'm tired of this awful, putrid self induced purgatory, let me for once, be held gently, caress my face, cup my cheeks in warm or calloused palms, let me nuzzle into them, desperate, like a cat melting into a caress. let me need you. will I let myself need you?

I've spent a lifetime picking myself apart with embalment tools. scalpels and pliars, neatly dissecting my diversities my dualaties until they were lined up in pretty little jars. an emotional, egregious apothecary if you will. I don't want this anymore.

hold me.

be good to me.

I'm resourceful, yes. like a fox, like a scholar, like a poet, like a fool. I've survived this long on clever little lies and armor sewn from hellebore, ivy coating my skin as a second layer of poison yet it only weakens myself.

I will exist. I will persist.

but gods, I am fragile.

unwind my paper wings, my metal key, see how battered my skull is. my mind clouded and clogged up with words and screaming. insults and fears toxic and tiring. my hands shiver, my body creaks, I want to collapse, into the cool dark dirt. into pillows, down soft and cottony, into someone's arms. hold me gently, hold me firm..

gods, I want to be protected.

that's all I've ever longed for.

but I sheathe my own sword. I've always been my own knight, my own champion, as meager a job I do, i keep myself alive. perhaps this is how Joan of Arc felt, I am not righteous but I understand that madness we deem holy that drives you forward into myth or misery.

In the end, she didnt want to die. no prophecy can warn you of how it feels to be aware, conscious as your soul slips agonizingly slowly from a mortal shell into that shadowed little waiting room we call the afterlife.

I don't want to go out like that.

please.

please.

as much wildness as I still cling onto. the sharpness of my words, the bite in my voice, the curve to my jaw, my teeth, my hands. my fierceness, my sensuality, hides sensitivity. It's armor too, a mask of itself, all honeyed kisses and fae fake frivolity

I'm so scared

I've always been. fear sets into my skull like a second soul. but will I ever discover how to soothe it?

please, please I'd let you destroy me if you asked nicely enough. I'm so used to people wanting to, theres some sick joy in watching something already so broken shatter into nothingness just to pick itself back up on trembling, trivial tenacity isn't there?

kintsugi.

let me dip my scars in gold, glaze my fractured fragments in ichor.

but as pretty as it may be, no amount of metal changes the fact that vase is still broken.

that I'm still broken.

gods. please.

I want to be held gently, because they want to.

"be good to me, I beg of you."

I'm so good at begging.

so please, please.

be gentle, I break easily, and I'm so tired of forging myself back on Hephaestus's irons.

I just want to be held.

please, be good to me.

[jimintomystery]

Naegiri/anti-Naegiri reaction

The Game Grumps Danganronpa V3 playthrough is heating up this weekend, as they approach the end of Chapter 5. I'm on the edge of my seat, and tempted to look up spoilers. Which is kinda cool, since I hadn't expected to get so invested in the third game.

I think the fifth trial is making me realize why DRV3 is reeling me in like DR1, whereas DR2 didn't so much. TL;DR: The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one.

[Above: omg the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one]

What made Trigger Happy Havoc click for me in the first place was Kyoko Kirigiri. The Prisoner's Dilemma concept was intriguing, but the aesthetic was so bonkers and the characters were so dumb that I wouldn't have stuck around if not for this one serious girl getting down to business. The game made me care about her, even as it made sure I understood that no one is safe and anybody could die tomorrow. I didn't realize I was falling into a trap until Chapter 5 teased her as the murder victim. The thought of continuing the story without her--with dumb ol' Byakuya replacing her as the deuteragonist--was intolerable, but I had to keep going to see if she was actually dead. This made Makoto's feelings about the case--all the grief, confusion, and self-doubt--more palpable, which sucked me in further. By the time the story hinted at Kyoko's feelings about what she's put Makoto through, I was all in.

Goodbye Despair couldn't recapture that vibe with me, and I've finally decided that's because it just doesn't have an analogue to Kyoko. To be clear, it was sensible not to rehash the characters from the first game. But Kyoko as a character is optimized for Danganronpa as a ludonarrative, and vice-versa--doing a sequel with one but not the other was a tall order. Because DR2 isn't about rescuing a tsundere girl from her own cynicism, it had to be about something else, and I felt it struggled in that area.

Killing Harmony seems to find a balance, revisiting what worked with Kyoko without simply copying it. Maki is not Kyoko, and Kaito isn't Makoto. Setting them both up as deuteragonists for Shuichi, each with their own secrets withheld from the player, helps set them apart. But they have a similar story arc, where Kaito reaches out to Maki for no real reason except his stubborn optimism, and Maki can't easily express how much that means to her. And, just like DR1, Chapter 5 blows that up, making us watch as one of them apparently discovers the other has been murdered. Except in V3, it's the grumpy one who has to find a way to move forward without the sunshine one. I really like that change.

Maki's dialogue (and Erica Mendez's performance) is really firing on all cylinders for me in Chapter 5. There are times when I'm not sure she personally cares if she lives or dies, but then she'll make it clear that she's not going to lay down and give up. (I can't tell if that's just because of Kaito or something deeper in her character.) So the worst part about discovering Kaito's body is knowing she's devastated, even when she can't really express that. When Shuichi holds out hope Kaito isn't the victim, and Maki can't, it's so sad. When the kids finally conclude Kaito must be the victim, it's like losing him all over again, and you see the blue despair stuff over her face and it's just...ugh. The Exisal pretending to be Kaito calls her "Maki Roll" and she loses her cool about it, and I just wish she could get a hug, but she'd only take it from one person, and barring a miracle he's just gone, man. It's heavy.

I suspect if I was watching DRV3 cold, all of this wouldn't hit me so hard. But thinking about Kyoko for four years has me thinking about these scenes in terms of what Maki doesn't say, how she doesn't react, and what's going on in her head that she won't share. She's going through a lot more than she's letting on, except unlike Kyoko in DR1, the other kids can kinda tell, even if they don't understand. (Shout-out to Dorothy Elias-Fahn for the way she read "Th-There's now way she is [the culprit]! 'Cause...why would she kill Kaito!?")

The toughest part is that I never expected Maki and Kaito to have a happy ending in the first place. I knew, very early in the story, that it would be too easy to have them bond and then both of them live all the way to the end, because we got that with Makoto and Kyoko. I thought I was fine with that--I already got Naegiri, so doing a more doomed version, an anti-Naegiri, was cool. I figured one of them would kill the other, or one would make a noble sacrifice for the other, and it wouldn't bug me. But now that it's happening, I find myself wondering if Maki will live (because that's what Kaito would want) or die (because how can she go on without him?) and I'm really worried I won't like the answer to that. I just want somebody in this story to make sure she's okay, and I don't know if it'll happen. Just like the first game, they've lured me right into the trap...

[casanovawrites]

rp sentence starters from tell my therapist i'm fine by bishop briggs

MY SEROTONIN

in the middle of the night, every minute, every time, all i think about is you.

in the bottom of the wine, all i think about is you.

i see your face when i leave.

you're what i need, my baby.

tell me you want me and need me too.

tell me that i'm somebody you can't lose.

what can i do? what can i do?

i'm not myself without you.

people are asking me why there's an emptiness inside.

come on, be calm, be cool.

do something you like, do something you used to do.

i'm done lying every time, but i'm not fucking fine.

I'M NOT A MACHINE

hope is a devil that's in disguise.

bless my heart and hope to die.

i'm not really sure you're ready.

i'm stuck to the walls of a cage, trading in my gentle for power and rage.

when i think of us, all of the pain that i've seen, i just want a minute to scream.

i am not a machine.

i'm scared of the times that i'm living in.

how i would kill for a "thank you."

bless my heart and all i give.

i'm not really sure i'm ready.

love me, hate me, bite my body till i'm bleeding.

suck the air out of my lungs, but i'm still breathing.

my heart's still beating more than metal parts and pieces.

GOOD FOR ME

i can be your all star.

if i could have it all, i'd bottle it.

i'd throw away my fear and swallow it.

even if i'm scared, i'll follow it.

i'm dreaming of what i really wanted, all that i'm supposed to be.

all i ever wanted, was it ever good for me?

all that i love, all that i need, all that i've been was never good for me.

MONA LISA ON A MATRESS

hell is knowing that you're perfect just the way you are.

is it crazy how we'd go and do it all again, knowing we were done before we ever had a chance?

i was dating someone who just didn't understand.

it's like you knew me before i walked in.

i want you to knock my lights out, kiss me so hard 'til we pass out.

just want to feel something like right now.

didn't wanna see what was underneath, all of the warning signs, my heart was blind.

i made up my mind.

want you to light up a million matches, burn out my heart until it's ashes.

i lost my innocence, learning how to love again.

we were done before we started.

didn't wanna be just friends, i just wanted love again.

HERE COMES THE FLOOD

they said, "don't leave before the miracle."

all of my pain was more than physical.

i couldn't see the future for me, even with the lights on.

was dead in the dark, needed a spark, something to hold on to.

never thought it could be this good.

never thought it was in my blood.

knew it wouldn't be easy to let go completely.

come heal me.

i was on my way to rock bottom.

making friends with my demons, no problem.

i was deafened by silence.

GROWING PAINS

i've been feeling something pulling at my skin.

i've been feeling restless lately.

maybe you could say i'm changing.

my mind's aching, wrestling with what i've been facing.

i can see it all so clearly now.

when my heart's breaking and my voice shaking, i won't be afraid.

it hurts so much to change, but that's just growing pains.

i can thank that younger me. she really did a lot of hurting, so i could do a lot of learning.

looking back, i'm grateful that i made it through.

SHUT IT OFF

my mind is broken by design.

i'm sick of saying, "i'm fine."

i'm done smiling, done being soft.

i'm screaming straight from my chest.

i'm wicked, no need for rest.

don't call me, don't waste your breath.

big men who talk like little boys say i'm too much.

i'm the one talking now. i'm not backing down.

can you hear me? then shut your mouth.

i'm like lipstick on a gun. so hard, so pretty, so cold.

so funny watching you run.

ISOLATED LOVE

my hard drive is full of pain from you.

i'm out of breath running from my youth.

how could i know who i was saving when i didn't know who i was?

this love hurts like hell.

isolated love, no one else can tell.

when we are young, we get fucked up.

UNDONE

i've been running away.

i'm scared of the downfall.

if you saw all of my damages, would you know how to manage it?

sooner more than later, i'll come undone.

i'm on the edge of a meltdown, if i'm really being honest.

said you'd love my best and worst. congratulations, you got it.

i'm ready to go, ready to leave.

don't look at me. i can't save me. i'm losing my mind.

[funkyyusername]

okay i've decided to make a more organized review on the flipside with my own personal reviews on each ending cuz ik tumblr loves the opinions of some random girl. spoilers for flipside ofc, if u care idc

the fucking slave ending: this was the one ending that i like passionately hate. because like, what?? first the story felt NOTHING like a class of 09 game, it felt like this weird episodic story with a twist end that was only there for the shock and emo factor. like i actually prefer if they had killed jecka instead of SELLING HER TO GODDAMN SLAVERY. literally this entire route is just, girls want paycheck, girls go to porn store, old school counselor gives them fuck up riddle completely occ for class of 09, girls find porn warehouse, counselor kills one girl, fbi sells the other. literally what?? that is some weird fucked up excuse of a story that was lowkey boring until the porn warehouse shit. felt like a goddamn scoobydoo episode with a poorly written edgy twist. also kelly was just boring as shit sorry kelly fans i snored. 0/10

drunk driving ending: this also felt not like a class of 09 ending but it was like slightly better bc black hair jecka was cool. i didn't know what to expect with this ending but i didn't think goddamn ARI would die. i kept forgetting about ari during this run. like yeah they make fun of her once and then bring her up again when jecka tries to get a job but like, that's it. maybe i'm remembering wrong but when another character is involved with an ending they usually include that character more. in the reup the suicide pact ending was like emily heaven. both ari endings had ari show up a bunch and have her gay awaken be like important to the story and constantly brought up. this one just, eh. it's not bad but like, eh. seeing ari's dead body was more of a jumpscare. like "ah! i forgot about her. wait why is she here again? oh right dominos." just felt off. 3/10

feet ending: okay first why feet? and why so many goddamn cut scenes with jecka stepping on people. like i get it move on. anyway so nicole's betrayal was..something. it's weird cuz it does feel like something nicole would do...to like someone she hates. the megan ending in the reup happened bc nicole was tired of megan being like a bitchy stuck up bossy bitch. but also like nicole never even liked megan. and like i get that nicole got pissed cuz jecka wouldn't let her join her feet empire but like, that's so minor. i feel like what would make more sense is nicole being like "fuck u i don't need u" and building her own feet empire, one up-ing jecka and making her lose her place, kinda like the OD ending. but nicole only doing it do jecka's dad? i mean i dunno. i get nicoles evil and whatever but also nicole likes jecka. or at least liked her enough to get the counselor off her back in the reup, liked her enough to buy tickets for the two of them to go to a concert, liked her enough to like, not tell her to fuck off and die. nicoles evil but she still LIKED jecka. for something like that i feel like nicole and jecka would have needed a much more dramatic falling out, not just, being mad for getting feet fomo. 4/10

OD ending: okay so admittedly what nicole did to jefferfy felt in character for both nicole and the game. how nicole treated jecka when she threaten her if she called the police felt in character to nicole. it was overall not that bad of an ending, but i found myself being more interested in nicoles pov than jeckas, which is upsetting bc this is literally jecka's game. nicole was the highlight of jeckas own game. ironic. 6/10

nicole suicide ending: the one ending i actually liked. this felt like an actually class of 09 ending, it gave insight to wtf jecka was going through before during and after nicoles nice girl turned suicide ending. jecka suffering just as much as nicole, almost mirroring nicole was really interesting. the scene where jecka is begging to hang out with nicole. where she tells nicole she "doesn't have to do anything," in which nicole responds back with "you don't have to date your teacher." jecka finding nicole fucking dead body. and even after nicoles death jeckas still suffering, bc she really was the only one who cared for nicole. it actually felt real and actually made sense. all the suffering jecka goes through here made sense for the plot and didn't just feel like it was making jecka suffer for the sake of suffering. it was just a very interesting take on nicoles suicide ending. not really funny, but still was an appealing story. 8/10

[goosesandsomegeese]

Prologue The Axe Forgets But The Tree Remembers

After spending five years in the soul world they're finally all free, with no memories of being stuck within an endless void. Except of course, Peter Parker. A single good thing will never go his way; and this only further proves it.

Really hoping people will enjoy this, I haven't wrote anything in nearly three years so I'm hoping this will get me back into it. Please be patience and enjoy.

The soul world is endless. It's like walking in space, Peter decided one day (did he decide today? Last week? Last year? Who knows. Who really cares?), except at least space has stars and planets and some kind of hope of another life that isn't half of the earth's population. Sure he's met cool people, but no one can really be cool when they slowly lose their sanity after several years stuck inside an endless walkable orangey-yellow ground, with orangey-yellow skies to match.

They're also not cool when they take it out on you, the youngest superhero, because you're the easiest punching bag.

Dr. Strange lost it on everyone when they first materialised, mainly Star-lord. The brawls and fights that ensued were eventful. It took only a week before everyone gave up hope and started turning on each other; any weapon anyone still had was thrown and used.

Peter could be grateful for meeting Lord T'Challa, but his usually calm demeanour had been destroyed long ago.

"Still your fault!" Dr. Strange yelled as he stormed back and forth with his permanent scowl on his face.

"He killed Gamora! How would you feel?" Star-lord shouted back, his hands pulling at his hair.

This was maybe the hundredth time Peter had heard the same fight. He mouthed the words he knew off by heart. If he could find a wall he'd slam his head into it, or crawl into a ball and face it until his organs finally gave out on him. If they'd ever. Peter's only hope here was that he'd one day die. He didn't know of what. Murder clearly wouldn't do it, but his body was still ageing. He wasn't entirely sure.

"I know how I'd feel because everyone I know is dead!" The statement was most likely true; not many planets had survived Thanos' snap, devolving into madness, and if Peter knew anything about humanity, it was that it was not something that could survive this. May was dead. Mr. Stark was dead. So were Ned, MJ, Liz… At least they weren't here. Wherever here is.

Soon, the fight would drag Peter in, unwillingly. He had tried to get out of it multiple times, but it was like Groundhog day. Doomed to be repeated. Time and time again.

"Peter!" Here we go again.

When the fight died down and everyone was licking their wounds, Peter slowly rose to his feet, blood dripping from his cheek, and made his way over to Bucky and Dr. Strange.

"Stephen." Peter greeted, sitting down beside them. They didn't seem to like each other; no one here liked anyone. They just happened to end up beside each other when everyone else was too tired to restart the fight.

"Spider-Man, if you are here to ask again about if I have any new ideas. I don't. I don't, and I never fucking will. Leave me alone." Okay. Great. "You're even more useless than good ol' Star-Lord over there. If you had a single brain cell in that empty head, you'd leave me alone."

"You're young and full of hope; just lose it, kid. We're never getting out of here." Bucky joined in, his face full of anger and hatred.

Peter looked down, feeling ashamed. He knew he was just an annoying child in their eyes, but it always hurt to hear. He had no hope; he just wanted to talk to someone about anything. None of them cared to try and get along, and it was devastatingly lonely to only ever hear fights day in and day out.

Peter grumbled an apology, rose to his feet, and walked away. There was nowhere to go, but anywhere that wasn't in earshot was an improvement.

Peter stumbled upon Mantis. It was awful talking to her; she'd somehow managed to keep track of the days, although he didn't believe she was totally or at all accurate. Within the first month Peter went to her nearly every day to ask the date; his hope had still been alive that they would get out. Now he went just to twist the knife in his heart that they were definitely never getting out. This time was different; he was nearly certain he knew the date, but he wasn't positive.

Mantis sat next to Drax and Groot. They rarely said anything to each other besides playing simple hand games Star-Lord and Peter had taught them.

Drax spotted Peter first and yet said nothing; neither of them had anything to say to each other, and Peter couldn't handle another rejection today, or maybe for another month. Maybe ever. He could always sit in a different part of the void, letting everyone walk by him and yet never saying a word to any of them. He could sit with people who didn't even speak the same language so he couldn't hear when they were insulting him. Maybe he could walk far enough anyway that he'd see a section that was more yellowy-orange than orangey-yellow. Who knows. The possibilities are endless.

Mantis looked at him, "August 10th." She told him, then laid on her back and stared up.

"Thank you." He'll try his best to not lose his manners. His patience and hope? Maybe. But Aunt May had raised him better than to ever be rude.

Drax opened his mouth to say something, but Peter was already turning away, scratch never being rude.

He once again walked far enough away to be out of earshot of anyone, sat himself down, and closed his eyes, remembering his 16th birthday, May forcing him to sit down, and he winced from the cuts that had yet to heal on his lower back as he blew out his candles. She kissed his forehead and joked he'd be 18 before she even knew it. Before Thanos, she had begun planning his 17th birthday, something he was reluctant to agree to (What if something happened and the people of New York needed their friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man?). She told him it was his last birthday before he was a legal adult and he needed to expect nothing but greatness on it and to invite all his friends. She threw out ideas like paintballing, go-karting, or even having a few drinks at the apartment. Aunt May was so excited.

He wondered how she'd feel now. 19 years old and yet with nothing to show for it. He couldn't look in a mirror to see if he'd aged; no one would hold a conversation long enough for him to ask, and everyone else was at an age where their ageing wasn't visible.

If Aunt May had been snapped, which he prayed she hadn't as death was a much nicer fate than this, he'd yet to find her. When everyone first flooded in, it was chaos. The superheroes tried to calm everyone, create order, but no one trusted them anymore. After a while everyone stopped caring who else was in here. There was no one to tell if everyone who'd been a victim of Thanos even ended up here, although it was likely. Billions of people were here, all of them scared. They all seemed to stay put now, devoid of any emotion.

Peter Parker laid down, knowing all too well how pointless the idea of sleep was and, yet he sang to himself with his eyes closed, hoping it would work.

"Happy birthday to me…"

[skultrashfics]

Stolen Linen: A Dead Men One Shot (1k)

⟢ A headcanon turned into a short snippet ⟢

This story is written during the 300 year war against Mevolent. Our reader, Elsie, is travelling with the Dead Men towards a mission they have been assigned. Having left the safety of one of their larger strongholds, they are forced to rest in their own makeshift camp overnight.

This little story details the shenanigans that ensue during a particularly warm night.

Blistering heat. 

It was the kind of night that weighed heavily upon your body. The air was scorched from the sun during the day, no breeze drifted across the plains, no plant life created cooler patches on the ground. 

It was all dust, cracked crevices and clay. 

It had been a tough day, travelling through this brazen environment. The only relief being Skulduggery, Erskine and Ghastly who were proficient enough in their elemental magic to draw water out of the air to refill their waterskins. 

Aside from that, everyone was left to their own devices to keep themselves cool. Which was no easy feat considering the gear they were laden with. 

The cover of night offered no relief, no brief escape from the heat and it was starting to feel like an endless torment. 

They had settled in a makeshift tent, the air thick and unmoving as it continued its suffocating dominion over the team. 

Bedrolls stuck to skin. Boots had long since been kicked off in silent protest. Nobody was sleeping. The Dead Men lay scattered in varying awkward positions, hoping that the further they spread themselves, the less the heat could entangle around their bodies. 

It wasn't exactly working, but any attempt was better than none at this point. 

Then a voice broke through the darkness, “Ugh- I can't take it anymore- it's too much!”. 

The men blinked into the dark, there wasn't really any use in acknowledging such a complaint. None of them could really do anything about it… 

Erskine glanced over as Elsie sat up, her braided hair frizzy from the humidity, “What are you-”, his sentence was cut off short as he watched her start to pull her overshirt off over the top of her head. Then came the trousers until she was just in her undergarments. 

The small vest and short simple pair of bloomers clung to her damp skin, nearly translucent in the moonlight that cut through a gap in the canvas. The way the fabric hugged her figure created a silhouette that was far too provoking… 

“I'm going to die… my brain will be cooked in my head before I even wake up”, she groaned as she kicked the hefty bedroll away. 

A choked gasp came from Hopeless as he looked over at Elsie, quickly turning away again after realising he had probably seen too much. Nobody else dared move, lest it be too obvious that they had also probably seen too much for it to be considered decent. 

Getting to her feet, still grumbling under her breath, Elsie looked around and her eyes landed on a loose, oversized linen shirt.

Saracen’s. Perfect. 

She made a beeline for it, “Don't mind if I do~”, she sang with a grin as she grabbed the shirt and dragged it back to her own little corner like a dragon hoarding treasure. 

“Now hold on a minute-”, Saracen had started to protest, but it was too late. The shirt had been commandeered.

It was light enough to use as a blanket without getting ridiculously warm, so Elsie sank back down to the floor and let it float down on top of her. As it glided across her back and shoulders, a little relieved sigh escaped her lips. 

“Much better…”, she whispered blissfully as her muscles finally relaxed against the canvas floor which felt a lot cooler- albeit harder- without the bedroll underneath.

The tent was dead silent.

Until Dexter let out a laugh and shook his head, “Well Saracen, you put up an amiable fight. But it was no contest”. 

Hopeless continued to stare into the abyss of darkness he had rolled into. It was far too hot for him to have to process the half naked woman sleeping just across from him in this small makeshift tent. He scrunched his eyes closed and figured the best way to handle it would be to force himself asleep as quickly as possible. 

Anton said nothing, but his breath came out in a quiet laugh as he studied Saracen’s grief stricken face at his shirt being captured. 

“Are you not going to get it back?”, Ghastly teased with a smirk as he glanced over at Elsie, “You should strike while she is vulnerable”.

“You dare try you'll see what happens”, Elsie warned as she opened one eye and glared over at Saracen challengingly. 

He held up his hands in surrender and shook his head, “No, no it's fine… please go ahead. Who needs boundaries anyway? Not me that's for sure”.

Dexter and Erskine snorted against their hands, trying to stifle their laughs as Saracen had no choice but to relent to Elsie's desires. It was too hot to be bickering over something so insignificant anyway.

Skulduggery, had had enough at this point and he let out a long sigh, “You are all ridiculous”, he stood up and left the tent to go and sit by the fire, clearly unimpressed at his peaceful thinking time being interrupted by jests and half quietened laughter. 

Anton then spoke up softly into the gloom, “Alright, come now… we should all try and get some sleep. Elsie has the right idea… stay cool whatever means necessary”. He removed his own shirt and put it to the side, ensuring it was out of harm's way for any other thieving hands. 

Dexter shrugged, “I took mine off ages ago… still boiling hot. But if I manage to fall asleep, I will let you know Shudder”. 

Erskine smirked and settled back down against his own bedroll. Despite the heat, he couldn't sleep without it, “I can't wait to see how Saracen handles further negotiations in the morning”.

At this, Saracen rubbed his hand down his stubbled chin and scoffed, “There won't be any negotiations… it will be a peaceful accord, in which my shirt will be returned to me. Right Elsie?”, he called out cheerfully.

The voices quietened to await a response. 

Out of the corner where she slept, they could hear the slow gentle breaths coming from Elsie, now fast asleep.

She looked soft, content, and devastatingly peaceful. The men all exchanged glances at each other, smiling fondly. One by one they settled down to try and get some well earned rest before heading off once more the next day.

I was only writing a small headcanon for myself before bed... but why not share? ♡ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[final-girl96]

Ageless Secrets Charter Five

“Yn, you need to move!” I looked up at Joel and shook my head. “He's still down there. He's still in our basement. Tess couldn't–we just left. We could have helped him when we went back to Detroit. I could have helped him. I went back to the house. But I got scared and ran; I left him there all alone. He's my nephew, I should have helped him.”

“There was and is no help. That thing in the basement isn't him anymore. Now, go into the living room.” He was right; I know he was right. But it still hurts hearing it. I nodded, took a deep breath, and forced my legs to move. A few minutes later I heard rustling in the kitchen and then a gunshot at the same time as a loud crack of thunder rocked the house. I sat on the couch, knees pulled up under my chin. “It's taken care of,” Joel said, walking into the living room and standing by the window.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered. Joel looked over at me and shrugged. “You did nothing wrong. We've all lost people.”

At some point I had fallen asleep. I woke up laying on the couch with a blanket over me. I blinked the sleep from my eyes, slowly sitting up, and looked around. Joel was sitting on the chair in the corner, eyes closed, breathing even. I looked towards the windows to see it was still dark outside. Standing up off the couch I stretched my body out, hearing the pops of my joints. My bladder felt like it was going to explode so I went in search of the bathroom.

When I found It I tried the light switch out of pure habit. To my surprise the light turned on. “Oh shit.” Out of curiosity I tried the sink to see if there was water. “Holy shit!” Cold water sputtered out of the faucet running clear. “Well, damn that's fucking exciting!” I quickly peed then ran out to the living room but I stopped at the kitchen and turned the light on. I can't believe we hadn't noticed before. Maybe because it was dark but this place was oddly clean.

I turned the light off and ran into the living room. “Joel!” I shook his shoulder but he didn't wake up. “Joel, wake up!” I shook harder until his large hand was wrapped around my wrist. “I think we need to get out of here, Joel.” He let go of my wrist and slowly opened his eyes. “Joel, someone lives here! There's water and electricity. Not to mention in the light this place is very clean after being abandoned for seven years.” He looked at me before running his hands over his face.

“Joel! Are you fucking listening to me?!”

I went to shake him but his large hand came around my wrist again..”I fucking heard you. There's a generator in the basement. It was on when I went to kill that infected. The guy was a runner so he didn't die too long ago. Probably locked himself in there after getting infected.” Joel let go of my wrist and sat down. “You couldn't tell me that earlier?” I asked. When he didn't answer I scoffed and walked away. I walked into the kitchen and started going through the cabinets. This guy had food; a good amount of food. I grabbed a couple cans of ravioli and searched for a pot.

When I came back into the living room Joel was standing by the windows. “Here,” I said, handing him a bowl. He looked over at me and down at the bowl. “Don't act like you're not hungry. We're going to be stuck here all night with the way that sky looked. Hell, it's still raining.” Joel took the bowl from me and started eating. I sat on the couch, setting the bowl on the coffee table in front of me, and began untying my boots. “Don't take your shoes off.” I rolled my eyes and ignored Joel. When my shoes were off I tucked them under, pulled the blanket over me, and grabbed the bowl.

“What did I just tell you?”

“Oh, my god, Joel. We can't go anywhere. And there isn't a soul insight. So sit the fuck down and eat you damn food.” I started eating and ignored his grumbling. When I was done I picked my book backup. The rain started to make things damp and cool. I pulled the blanket closer, tucking it in around me. I was almost done with my book and it was a good thing I brought the next one, which is unfortunately the last one.

An hour later I started to get hungry again. It sucked that I couldn't just snack all day long. But there was plenty of food here in this house. I marked my page and set my book down, and stood from the couch. “Where are you going?” I turned to a dress Joel. “Into the kitchen to find something to munch on,” I told him. “You don't need anything to munch on.” I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“For fuck sake,” Joel mumbled. “I mean, we don't need to be eating all that food. You need to be careful what you eat…” I groaned, cutting him off. “Yes, Joel, I know what I need to watch out for. I wasn't born yesterday. Jesus christ.” I walked into the kitchen and started going through the cabinets. Joel was treating me like a damn child and it was pissing me off. Tess already has that fucking covered. I slammed the cabinet door shut and sighed. My appetite is gone now.

The rain was still coming down pretty hard. I stayed in the kitchen just to get some space from Joel. His presence alone made shit awkward and uncomfortable sometimes. At least when it's just the two of us. When he's with Tess he's more relaxed and he doesn't tense up when she touches him. All I have to do is stand close to him and he gets tense and moves away. He listens to whatever she has to say and shuts me out.

Of course he would go for her. She's closer to his age, knows what it's like to lose a child, she's tough and doesn't need anyone to protect her. I'm just a kid to them even though I'm twenty-two and have proven to them that I am more than capable of handling myself. Maybe I should stay here in the house or maybe Billy and Frank would let me come stay with them in one of the houses there. Yeah, I think I might do that. If Bill agrees to it of course. What the fuck am I even thinking? Tess would probably just come after me.

[mydetheturk]

Title: Hell, I'm Dead Anyway

Author: mydetheturk

Rating: M (for safety)

Word Count: 2,710

Warnings: Vomiting, Panic Attacks, Crying, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Wolfwood's Going Through The Horrors, Hallucinations

Summary: Wolfwood cracked too many ampules. Meryl and Vash can only keep him comfortable while he recovers.

~~

Day 3 of @mashwoodweek! I chose "Ghosts" for reasons that will be Revealed in the fic. There's also a sprinkling of the poetry prompt "Tell me every terrible thing you've done, and let me love you anyway."

Title is from The Dark Tower Vol 2: The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

(read on AO3)

There's some content warnings in the replies, if you're reading in the dash view and want to have some idea as to what's going down.

~~

Meryl worries, when her boys get into gun fights. Vash can dodge anything when he wants to, but Nick… Nick tends to soak up the bullets and crack an ampule and chug whatever serum is in them. And this last gun fight had been. Bad.

It'd been bad.

Nick had cracked the glasses at least twice that Meryl had seen, and Vash admitted to seeing another two, not to mention what might've happened when the three had been separated. When Meryl had found Nick again, he was leaning against a horse hitch and standing over black sludge, surrounded by bodies of some of the bounty hunters after Vash.

He'd thrown up black sludge before collapsing, all before Meryl could finish calling out to him.

Meryl's panicked scream had brought Vash running.

That was a couple of hours ago.

Meryl isn't sure how they got Nick in their motel room without anyone seeing them or Nick getting covered in vile, black goop. Meryl's been holed up in the bathroom with him, making sure he doesn't die. Vash hasn't been allowed back in since Nick looked at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes and stopped breathing out of panic. It took about thirty seconds of stillness before Nick sucked in a ragged breath and vomited up more of the black goop, the tears in the corners of his eyes spilling over.

Vash had bolted, and he's been pacing back and forth in their motel room since, bringing Meryl whatever she's asked for. She's only seen something like this once out of Nick since they stuck together after July. It almost killed him then, and it feels like it's killing him now.

It's been a while since he last coughed up the black, rotten goop, and while his vision isn't totally clear, Nick actually looked at her when she called his name, so Meryl's taking it as a win.

“Nick? Baby?” Nick's so pretty eyes blink at her, unseeing. Meryl puts her hand on his cheek, and he pulls back weakly. “I'm going to have to get Vash in here. I can't move you myself. Okay?”

“Shl'dn' touch… hurt you…” Nick wheezes, and Meryl's heart cracks.

“You can't hurt a kitten right now, baby,” Meryl says. She kisses his sweaty forehead.

Nick's too hot, but they don't have a tub with their room, just the tiny closet that holds the toilet and sink. Meryl and Vash will have to get whatever they can to get him cooled down. She just needs to get Nick on the bed, first.

Nick hacks up another lungful of bile into the toilet, wheezing weakly. Meryl runs her hand across his shoulders until he slumps back.

“'m good. Be good. Won't run again,” he whispers. He's staring out past Meryl, at something only he can see. “'m sorry.” His hands keep clenching and unclenching and small shivers wrack his frame.

“Child assassin, made to grow up too fast,” Nick had told her, drunk on bathtub gin and grief. Meryl's put those words in a little box to examine when she has moments to herself. Trying to demand anything of Zazie doesn't work, but what the Worm's Voice has implied has been horrific.

“Vash!” Meryl calls over her shoulder. She doesn't want to corner Nick in the tiny bathroom, but they've gotta get him cooled down.

Vash nearly runs Meryl over in his haste. He's glowing slightly, whorls flickering into existence from his eyes outward. “Is he–”

“He's too hot. It's making him delirious,” Meryl says. She tries not to think about the couple of pictures of tiny baby Nico Miss Melanie had shown her with golden eyes too old for his soft baby face. She doesn't know how successful she is with controlling her voice, given how Vash pales with her words.

“Will – will he let me touch him?” Vash whispers. He hovers at the door, not wanting to put more stress on Nick.

“I don't think it's gonna be a will he, Vash. I think you’re just going to have to,” Meryl says, just as quiet. Nick's lips are moving but no words are coming out, and he's staring not at her but past her. His whole frame trembles and his breath keeps skipping. “We need to cool him off.”

Vash takes a couple of deep breaths and steps in, deliberately making noise. Nick twitches back, eyes flicking in Vash's direction. He's ashy under his tan, the ever so faint freckles just darker than his normal skin tone standing out.

Meryl doesn't know what ghosts he's seeing.

But she wants to find the remains of Millions Knives and use the Punisher's laser to make sure he isn't coming back. She wants to find whoever Legato is and hurt him for hurting Nick.

“I'm so sorry, Nicholas,” Vash says. He kneels down, and Meryl scoots out of his way. She can't really haul Nick around the way he can her – he's too dense and she's too short. “I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe.” Vash keeps his words low and soft and unhurried as he carefully takes Nick in his arms. Nick tries to get away, flinching and spitting and full of panic, but there's only so far he can get in the confines of the bathroom.

Nick's crying silently by the time Vash gets his arms around his torso.

“I know, I know,” Vash says. “I'm sorry.” He presses his cheek to Nick's. “I'm standing up now, Wolfwood. There we are.” Vash rolls to his feet, dragging Nick with him. Meryl moves up as well, drawn to them magnetically. Nick can barely keep his feet under him, he's shaking so hard. Vash keeps murmuring to him and there's a sound Meryl can feel coming from Vash's chest. “We're gonna walk now. I've got you. I'll let you go in a moment.” Vash backs them out the door, staring forward at the back wall of the bathroom the entire time. He keeps going until the backs of his legs hit the bed and then Vash turns, shifting Nick until he's the one with the mattress in the back of his knees. Meryl helps Vash manhandle Nick into the bed proper; Vash's hands don't linger the few times he touches Nick's skin.

“Can you run water as cold as the sink will get it, Vash?” Meryl says once they've got Nick as comfortable as they can. There's an expression on his face that says he can tell more about what's happening than Meryl can. She's not sure he'll say anything, though.

Vash uses his prosthetic fingertips to shift Nick's hair off his forehead. Nick’s eyes scrunch closed and he tries to pull back, but he doesn’t make it far. Tears streak in varying directions across his face, across the bridge of his nose when he looks away from Vash. “Yeah. Just a second.” With a heavy sigh, Vash grabs up some fabric – a towel, a spare shirt, things like that.

Meryl takes a moment to get Nick's shirt the rest of the way unbuttoned, exposing his torso to the hotel room. Placing her hand over his heart, she feels the way it jumps a little and his breathing catches. He’s scared and verging on passing out from his panic and what he was seeing.

Meryl's breath stutters on an exhale.

He's so stupid.

She lost Vash once, no matter that he came back; Meryl can't lose Nick too. Her breath hiccups and she chokes back a cry.

“Hey.” Vash taps her shoulder with his flesh hand, the glove off so she can see his hand fully when she turns her head to look at him.

“Yeah?” Meryl hates how small her voice is.

“Nicholas is stubborn,” Vash says. “I'm sure he'll pull through.”

Meryl wants to believe him. She does.

But the sense-memory of when Nick killed the man that had been the boy Rollo to save Vash's life rolls through her bones anyway. She doesn't want that for Nick.

Instead of voicing this, she holds out her hands for whatever Vash had taken with him to the bathroom. The fabric in her hands isn't super cold, but it's cooler than the air around them. Carefully, Meryl drapes the smallest pieces of fabric over the pulse points of his head and arms, saving the wet shirt (which is one of Vash’s) for Nick's torso, folding it in half and laying it across his chest.

It's not heat exhaustion or stroke, but she's not sure how else to handle it. They'll have to try getting some water in him at some point so he doesn't get dehydrated.

For now, it's all she can do.

“I'll make sure the bathroom is clean,” Vash says. “We don't want the lady at the desk getting angry with us. Innkeepers talk.” He says this lightly, but there's a look in his eyes. Meryl's sure the same look is in hers.

She pulls her eyes away from Vash's far too blue ones and casts a glance around their room. Something is missing. With a second, more thorough look, Meryl realizes what it is.

“We left the Punisher,” she says with dismay. It's been a few hours – she hopes no one stole it since they retreated to the motel room. Honestly, she's not sure how someone could; the gun so full of what Nick claims is mercy but is in actuality a horrifying number of bullets weighs more than Nick and Vash combined.

Vash's face falls, empty.

“I'll get it,” he says. “Stay here, I'll be back soon.”

“Hurry,” Meryl replies. She doesn't think the hunters who'd been after Vash earlier would strike again, but she doesn't want to risk it with Nick as bad off as he is.

“Of course. I always do.” Vash grabs the coat Nick's been wearing since July, sliding his arms through the sleeves like he never left it behind. Running his hand through his hair, it spikes up slightly. With his hair back and Nick's coat, he doesn't give off “Vash the Stampede.” It should hopefully be enough.

Nick's breathing evens out while Vash is out getting his gun. When Meryl checks on his pulse, it's still a little off, but going stronger than it had been.

Meryl drops her face into the mattress beside Nick's hip. “You're an idiot,” she whispers. She refuses to acknowledge the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes. “You stupid idiot, you can't do this to me.” She takes the closest hand in hers, threading their fingers together. Nick mumbles something incoherent.

Meryl's still refusing to cry when Vash comes back with the Punisher slung over his back. He looks a little worse, eyes red rimmed and tear tracks through the iridescent scales that show up when he starts glowing.

“How's he doing?” Vash asks. The Punisher makes a soft thump when Vash sets it down. The belts aren't quite right, but Meryl knows Nick will want to make sure his gun is fine when he wakes.

“Better,” Meryl says. “His heart though...” she trails off, biting her lip. There's nothing she can do; she's not a doctor, and Vash's 'profession' when he's going undercover is a Plant Engineer. Not to mention whatever he's got going on inside of him isn't going to be the same as Nick, who's definitely got something going on that a normal, unmodified human wouldn't have. There's no scars, but Meryl watches how he stretches his back, and it's unsettling to see how flexible it is. Sure, Nick broadened over the last couple of years, but there's something going on underneath.

Vash furrows his brow and moves to the other side of the bed they have Nick on. He places his ear to Nick's chest, eyes closing as he listens.

Vash blinks up at her after listening to Nick's chest for a moment. “I don't know if I can do anything for this, Meryl. His best bet might be...” Vash trails off.

The doctors at the Eye.

“Fuck,” Meryl says.

“Yeah.” Vash swallows. “That. That about sums it up.” He lets out a little giggle. It sounds about how Meryl's feeling.

Meryl laughs, a little hysterical thing. “It's going to be so fucking hard to make him not drink that fucking serum.” She's not even sure if there's a single member of the Eye that Nick trusts. From what Vash remembers of the fight on the sand steamer on their way to July, they were holding Nick's brother hostage as a way to make Nick work with them. Most of the people experimented on straight up die.

Vash stands back up and walks around the bed to wrap Meryl in his arms. She finally lets herself cry over the whole situation. “We'll let him heal,” Vash says. He's got that blank tone to his voice again. The one that makes Meryl sad and pisses Nick off. “If he gets worse, we'll head Home. Luida might be able to do something.”

Meryl's met a couple of the doctors on the ship. She hopes someone there can help.

At the moment, all they can do is wait and periodically cool the fabric they draped over Nick.

Meryl gets out her stack of reports and settles herself in the chair beside the bed. Vash cleans the bathroom within an inch of its life and then methodically cleans the Punisher before doing maintenance on his Colt. Both of them keep a desperate eye on Nick while they work. Its a little while longer before he finally slides into proper sleep, his breath deep and even. Something in Meryl's chest untangles at that. She hopes he's not having nightmares. Nick had looked at Vash and seen someone else. Meryl's pretty sure she knows who, since she sees blond hair and a beauty mark on the wrong side in her nightmares too.

Setting aside her reports, Meryl leans on the bed, pillowing her head on her crossed arms so she can stare at Nick. She loves an idiot with a sacrificial streak an ile wide and another idiot who has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to the people he cares about.

She closes her eyes. Just for a minute.

A shaky hand petting Meryl's hair makes her jolt up. The hand in her hair falls.

“Ow.” Nick's awake.

Nick's awake.

Meryl dives into his stomach, not giving a damn that she's sobbing all over him.

“Ow. Shortie, what's–”

“Don't do that to me again!” Meryl sobs.

The door creaks open, Vash stepping through. “I'm back,” he calls quietly. “The innkeeper was kind enough to give us something when I mentioned Nick's not...” He trails off, finally processing the scene before him. “Nicholas,” Vash breathes. The bag in his hand clatters to the floor and he joins Meryl in clinging to Nick. “Wolfwood – Nicholas, Nick.” He keeps repeating Nick's name, as though his brain has gotten stuck on Nick and Nick alone.

Nick makes a noise but doesn't shove either of them off of him. Not that he could at the moment, not with the grip Meryl's got in his shirt and the almost bruising clutch Vash is using.

Meryl sobs herself out, Vash close behind. Nick shakily holds on to both of them, bewildered.

“You can't do this to me – to us,” Meryl croaks when she thinks she can talk a little bit without bursting into another round of tears. “You could die and I can't lose you too.” Her voice cracks on her words and Meryl clings into Nick's chest again.

Vash pets Nick's cheek with his flesh and bone hand, thumb going through tear tracks and giving Nick a watery smile. “I can't lose you either,” he says. “Please. Don't make me lose you too.” He buries his face in Nick's throat.

Nick makes a noise at both of them. “'m sorry,” he rasps. “Didn't mean to scare you.” He doesn't say it won't happen again. Meryl knows it might.

He didn't promise her this after that time when they were without Vash, either. As long as people he cares about could be in trouble, Meryl knows Nick will do whatever he has to to keep them safe.

She just hopes it doesn't kill him in the process.

[countrymusiclover]

22- Memories and Tricky Games

Part 23

Family is More than Blood

@secretdreamlandmentality

Mystic Falls - current timeline

Klaus followed his two daughters, Henrik and Andrea into the gym, hearing that there was another monster attacking the school. Once they were inside the room he could see the Hope Parker girl and Lizzie backed into a corner. “On second thought, be as loud as you want. Because we are so screwed.”

Hope frantically gulps. “Uh, it feeds on secrets, right? So let me have it, all of it.”

“I prefer to die with dignity.” The siphon blonde rolled her eyes.

The strange girl beside her replied. “Okay, fine, I'll start. Um I stole your jade butterfly clip in fifth grade.”

Lizzie gasped. “I loved that clip!”

The monster wearing a cap growls towards them where Hope begins panicking. “Well, Andrea had a crush on Josie for a week a few years ago.”

“Read my lips: my sister and our cousin are never happening.” Lizzie scoffed at her friend. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell your parents or something because your mom has been going crazy trying to figure out who you are.”

The brunette glared at her hating to hear that she was mentally hurting her mother’s mind. “I didn’t want to hurt Landon and Josie. But I never thought that mom and Henrik would even slightly remember who I was.”

“Well it happened, Hope…agh!” The Gemini blonde screamed when the monster shrieked giving her the chance to see the Mikaeslon family watching them not sure how they could help. “Hope, they’re here except for your mom so just spit it out.”

“I won’t do it, Lizzie!” She snaps back.

Klaus and Lizzie made eye contact and he could hear her heartbeat quickening in her chest. “Okay, um, I accidentally killed your hamster. I siphoned you to cheat on finals.”

“What?” Hope spun on her feet.

The Saltzman blonde shut her eyes briefly avoiding her gaze. “And I actually think you're kind of cool.”

Yet the creature still made its way forward not affected by anything the girls had administered meaning they needed a new plan. Alina and Missy intertwined hands with Henrik and Andrea being siphoned so the twins had magic. “Let’s just do the siphon spell or the freezing one.” Alina suggested to the group unsure of what would actually stop the monster.

“If it has a heart I can just take it out and that’s the end of it.” Klaus added on trying to listen but couldn’t hear that the creature was alive meaning they were still stuck.

Lizzie and Hope bumped into the brick wall trapping them in between the wall and the monster causing Hope to begin panicking not wanting to admit what would most likely kill the monster in front of the pair. “Okay, it's not working. It's not gonna stop until everyone knows the secret we've been keeping from them: that I'm back.”

“Let 's try Magia tollox de terras. Magia tollox de terras-“ Missy began saying until the gym doors behind them bursts open revealing Josie.

The dark haired siphon eyed the monster in front of the group. “I'm back, too.”

“What are you going to do, Jo.” Andrea asked the siphon still remaining by her cousin's sides.

The monster turned around to the witch screeching down at her until Josie raised her hands up not afraid as she blasted the monster with a powerful spell. “Harae-tamai Kioku Yomigaerashi-tamae!” Thr monster bend over, holding its stomach.

“Jo!” Lizzie called out when her twin collapsed onto the floor.

Hope shifted her focus towards her father who blinked a few times at her while he slowly walked towards the girl. He raised his hand up and touched her face with the other teens watching him. It was rare to see the great Klaus Mikaelson shed a tear but he began crying in front of his daughter. “Raelyn was right….you’re my daughter.”

“Holy cow!” Andrea blurted out falling backwards on the floor.

Missy removed her hand from her sister’s rushing to check on Josie. “Josie….woah…uh.” She grunted when whatever spell she had done took over her body and she fell onto the floor too.

“Sissy!” Henrik broke into a run tackling Hope in the tightest hug the young boy possibly could crying into her chest.

Hope fell down on her butt embracing her brother in a warm tearful hug laughing at finally being able to hug him once more. “Hi Henrik…I’ve missed you so much.”

“So you were telling the truth all along, Lizzie…How could you think we wouldn’t want to know that our older sister was actually alive!” Alina stood beside their father raising her voice towards her sister flashing her werewolf eyes being frustrated like her father.

Hope dropped her gaze sadly. "Alina, I'm sorry…wait Where's mom?"

"Mom, I don't know. She's supposed to be-" Alina got cut off and collapsed suddenly.

Klaus ran a hand through his blonde curls answering his eldest daughter’s question. “Don’t worry she may have made a reckless decision but I know where she is. She went to the Malivore pit….bloody hell.” He groaned feeling a headache stumbling backwards, having Josie’s spell finally take effect.

Hope bent down seeing her family shortly taking a nap from the magic they were blasted with. “Lizzie, if your dad comes back make sure he doesn’t get angry that we left for Triad headquarters.”

“Why would auntie Raelyn jump into the portal if she knew what would happen to you?” Lizzie asked, standing beside her.

Hope shrugged her shoulders. “I have no clue. I just hope that she is okay.” Unfortunately that could be far from the truth when they would see where she ended up.

Raelyn’s pov

I blinked silently at the guy in front of me. My hands were clutching the crossbow still in my hands. Even though I knew that he was still alive I never dreamed I would be seeing him again. “How the hell are you awake?”

“No answers for free, Rae Rae. You should know that by now. So my question is what exactly are you doing here.” He gasped covering his mouth. “Did old Ric change his mind about you?”

Shaking my head, I scoffed at my cousin. “No he didn’t. And for your information I have no clue why I am here. All I know is that I went through a portal and somehow ended up here. Now answer my question: how are you not desiccating?”

"It's what I like to call the supernatural hunger games. There's a witch, vampire and werewolf that got dumped down here and they woke me up to have a little play thing." He responded back to me.

Scanning my eyes over my cousin I could tell it really had been ten years for him. He had a beard growing on his chin and the top of his head had some gray hairs forming by the looks of it. "When you say there's other people here who exactly put them here and why?"

"Old Alaric Saltzman obviously." Kai shrugged his shoulders, noticing the crossbow. "You do remember that will only kill me for a short time right?"

Rolling my eyes I vamped past him still holding the weapon in my hands. "It doesn't matter if you're bound to this world or not. I'm only concerned with getting out of here."

"You really think that I haven't tried that over the last ten years?" Kai dryly chuckled, making me pause. "I'm assuming you know what it takes to escape a prison world."

Glancing over my shoulder I stared at him, lowering the crossbow I was holding. "I actually do. The Ascendant, Bennett blood and a celestial event. So I am getting out of here before you and whoever else is here can kill me."

Kai raised his hand before I could move fast enough, freezing me in place. "Immobilus…Awe don't be so sure of yourself Rae Rae. It’s rude to leave without meeting the other guests first. Come on out, my murderous friends!" Kai called out walking up behind me grabbing my shoulders while I was forced to remain there.

I grunted dropping the weapon in my hands letting it clatter on the ground. I elbowed my cousin in the gut quickly using the chance he was holding his stomach to vamp away from him. “Argh!….who the hell are you?” I screamed, feeling someone vamp behind me twisting my arms around my back holding me against whoever it was.

“Names Diego. What do you want me to do with her Kai?” He asked where I could hear him growl meaning he was the werewolf that he had mentioned earlier.

My psychopath cousin shoved his hands with a slight tilt of his head smirking. “Hmm give her a taste of what happens if she helps us manage an escape but tries to leave us here.”

“Just remember you don’t have your little blood cure here to save you.” Diego growled into my ear lightly scraping his teeth against the veins on my neck where I gulped nervously knowing if he bit me now I wouldn’t make it once his venom was inside of me. I’d never see Klaus or the kids ever again.

Diego pushes me back towards Kai who holds my face in his hands pressing his forehead against mine. “Now that we’ve made that clear. You, my siphon cousin, are going to help us escape this prison world whether you like it or not.” He shoved me away from him and shoved a piece of wood into my gut before Diego and himself left the room.

“Sometimes I really do hate him!” I grumble under my breath drawing the piece of wood out and throwing it across the room, praying that Klaus and the kids would figure out I was here before Kai and his fellow prisoners decided to kill me.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[tophthedaydreamer]

my thoughts on guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 (part two!)

spoilers ahoy!

At the end of part one, I began discussing the humor, which I'll continue to do so here. As I said before, the guardians just kept arguing but it wasn't funny. It felt serious. And there definitely should be times when they have serious arguments, they're under a lot of stress what with Rocket dying and all. But like, a lot of their interactions felt like this. Even their attempts to be funny kinda felt like annoying incompetence at times. There were few jokes that made me laugh, whereas with the first two I'm usually cackling. Vol. 1 and 2 are hilarious in my book. Yondu at the jewelry shop. Rocket's obsession with stealing mechanical limbs from people. "I'm gonna die here surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy." The dance battle at the end of Vol. 1. The whole bit with Taserface! And the iconic "I'M MARY POPPINS, Y'ALL!"

I think the humor struggles in Vol. 3 because all the funny moments are put on Drax and Mantis. They make for some great comedy, as we've seen in Vol. 2 and the Christmas Special. But they can't be the only ones who carry the comedy, even if they're very likeable. Quill is mostly working through his issues with Gamora's semi-death, which I am glad is treated seriously. But that means he has less funny bits. Gamora is.... low-key annoying because she is a lot more rude than I was expecting. Sometimes I thought she hated the guardians (I understand why she's hostile towards Quill, with him insisting they were once madly in love). It felt a little out of character for her to be this mean, as she's supposed to be Gamora from Vol. 1. Idk, I guess the Ravagers rubbed off on her lol. Sadly, Gamora wasn't very likeable for me, but she did improve as the film went on. Groot exists. He does some cool stuff but mostly sits in the background waiting for the next battle.

Later I realized why the humor felt off is because Rocket isn't present. In the first two films, he's often the one who instigates a lot of the comedy. He bounces off of each guardian really well and is just a fun character. It's no wonder why he's a fan favorite! I understand why he's stuck in a coma, it's the whole point of the story for guardians to save his life, but I'm bummed out he was in it for so long. My sister suggested the idea of him being awake while his kill switch is slowly shutting his body down. There could still be that urgency, but also Rocket funny moments. I think the heist at OrgoCorp would've been a lot funnier if he was around. It could also make for some more drama. It would be interesting to see more and more of his past being dredged up against his will, as he tries to brush it off like it's no big deal, all while trying to ignore the increasingly unstable state of his body. He's not okay, but he's trying so hard to be. Until he finally collapses when the guardians make for Counter-Earth. I love the scene where Rocket reunites with Lylla. It's so powerful, and if I hadn't been watching with my family I probably would've cried hehe. All the flashbacks of Rocket's past was heart wrenchingly well done, holy cow. Props to Bradley Cooper for letting out one of the most primal screams I've ever heard in my life. Baby Rocket is such a tender soul that I wanted to go into the TV, beat up the High Evolutionary and take Rocket and Batch 89 home with me. My maternal instincts were going haywire lol.

I think the third act of the movie is the best part because Rocket's back and the guardians are kicking bad guy butt and saving people (in this case, clone kids and animals!). The High Evolutionary is such a slimy, horrendously vile villain that it feels so good when the guardians beat the crap outta him. We also get genuinely sweet Dad Drax moments ("You weren't meant to be a destroyer. You were meant to be a dad.") as he takes the kids under his wing. And we get some great Rocket moments as he discovers he really is a raccoon and lovingly carries the baby raccoons (ouuughhh my heart!!!). "The name's Rocket. Rocket Raccoon." is such a powerful line. All this time he thought he was a monster, but now he's embracing what and who he truly is!!!! I like how he insists the guardians save the animals too, and they do. And most of all, I love that Rocket lives. I'd read an out of context spoiler when Vol. 3 first came out back in May that Rocket dies. How unsatisfying would it be if he did? It honestly would feel like the High Evolutionary wins if Rocket dies. Movies nowadays kill off main characters for the shock and drama (even if it doesn't make sense). I'm so glad that Rocket is alive and he gets to flourish leading a new team. I'm honestly very satisfied with each guardian's ending. Quill reunites with his grandfather, Mantis goes on a journey of self-discovery, Drax becomes a father again, Nebula builds the home she never had, Gamora finds a new home with the Ravagers, and Groot and Rocket guide the next generation of the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Overall, I rate this movie a 8/10. It has its rough patches, but the final act wraps it up nicely.

(also sorry I forgot about Adam. he's neat. I wish he got more screentime. Everytime I see him I think of Eustace lol)

[absoluteaffirmative]

hey remember this post? yeah i'm remaking the au

in this au, JCJenson made the disassembly drones (but also the absolutesolver doesn't exist so its only the md drones, not the md characters. also the disassembly drone cooling systems ACTUALLY work, but that's kinda beside the point).

disassembly drones, though being originally made to wipe out rogue worker drones, could be modified further, which is exactly what Urbanshade wanted to do. they reached out to JCJenson to partner up, requesting some aquatic disassembly drones, and JCJenson accepted the offer.

essentially, remove the murder drones' wings and give them mermaid tails, as well as a second pair of arms (for more tedious tasks). obviously, they needed to be water resistant as to not, y'know, power down and die (they're also immune to Nanite acid! because i said so). these new drone types were called "aquatic drones". though in my (sloppy) art, i mention the IDs (or, ADIDs if you will) to being numbers, like the worker drones (using md characters as an example; nori = 002, yeva = 048, etc), though they have much longer serial designations that includes their "main" ID number. this will be explained better in the next section.

but how does Sebastian fit into any of this? well...

Urbanshade already had 12 other aquatic drones, but felt that they were kinda "boring", so they decided to use prisoners to convert into drone cores/hearts, then put the heart into the drone (as you do). Sebastian was the first one to be tested with this.

using some type of hyper-advanced brain scan, they converted the data into an empty drone heart, then placed it into an offline aquatic drone, and set up all the information.

his entire serial designation is SD-S-013-1XXX0X000X. "013" is what would appear on the chest panel (his "main" ID), "SD-S-013" is what appears in his HUD ("name" + ID), and the last bit is just the extra stuff.

when Sebastian woke up/was brought online, he kinda. freaked out. putting essentially a wholeass human brain into a robot is usually a cause to freak out, especially the HUD and the fact he can see in multiple ways (thanks to the "headband eyes"). Urbanshade deemed the experiment a success and began work on converting other prisoners into aquatic drones as well.

besides the whole Sebby-drone thing, the lore is mostly the same, Sebastian is working alongside other human-turned-drones as well, until he was assigned guard duty. his given patrol route just so happened to pass by the "cyrosleep" section, and curiosity got the better of him. there he saw the many other prisoners, all sleeping, until he saw... himself. this was a bit of a mindfuck but he had to carry on normally until he caused the breach.

Sebastian sustained a lot of damage trying to escape from his mess, including the loss of a portion of one of the smaller arms, slight motor damage in the other, as well as some of the headband eyes being broken (specifically the xray, infrared and a slight bit of the visual), which caused him to perceive lights differently (my shit explanation for why he's sensitive to bright lights). a cool thing he was somehow able to do was change his light color from yellow to cyan. so that's my explanation for why his eyes are cyan-colored. lol

now, one thing that happened during the breach was the cyrosleep section going offline (by accident) and it kinda caused everyone being kept there to. die a bit. so Sebastian is legit dead but also not because what's essentially his human brain is still "alive" but only in the drone body. which makes this version of him much more tragic because there's no mutations to reverse. he just can't go back to being a human again, because that human is dead.

also he was able to take the hearts of the other aquatic drones and stuck 'em all in jars under a heat lamp cuz i still like the idea of their hearts being susceptible to high levels of heat.

also i removed the esca cuz it looked kinda stupid on a drone body lol (but i replaced it with the headband eyes so. yippee). obviously there will be more added to this and more expanded upon, but right now i'm tired.

okie that's all. k thx byeee !!

[ruvastuon]

Clarity

@flashfictionfridayofficial

FFF263 In the Meadows prompt

1317 word count (I'm sorry it's a bit over... I tried condensing as much as I could.)

CW: violence, referenced forced drug use, a bit of body horror, and dehydration.

Summary: Maren wakes up in an unfamiliar meadow with a clear mind after years of living under a fog.

On an island surrounded by great forests sat a meadow hiding from the ocean. Laying among the blades of grass that swept by her like waves on the ocean, Maren woke in a state of listlessness. She was utterly exhausted, and without the aid of the deep to facilitate her navigation, she was stuck against the cool earth, blind to all but a gentle warmth on her skin.

Usually, she was quite sluggish between hunts, struggling with even the most basic of thoughts, waiting until they charged the water with those fowl drugs, sending her into a frenzy. Occasionally, she would have bouts of clarity, usually just long enough to witness the end of her hunt, but now it felt like her mind was sharper than it had been in years. With this new freedom, Maren’s thoughts drifted to the fathomless depths of what had until recently been her home.

With a clear mind, Maren did not remember it with the fondness she had felt when her brother was given the opportunity to show his devotion to the queens, or in the reverence that had surged through Maren’s entire being when her sister was accepted as a royal guard.

‘Oh how fortunate you are, Maren, to have been bestowed with the favor of our queens.’

How many lonely nights in the empty nursery had she prayed for such a thing before her naive devotion had doomed her? No, she had long lost any reverence for their tyranny, and her thoughts of that place had turned just as rotten as her limbs in the burning darkness of the mines.

Musing about her isolation, Maren could see herself for the pawn she had been. Her mother had warned her long ago, but the queen’s guard had claimed her mother was a traitor, not to be trusted. She had been ripped away from Maren before those precious lessons could be ingrained properly, and so, like a fool Maren had fallen for every lie they’d fed her, burying the barbed hook of their deception deeper into her throat until she wasn’t even a shell of what she had once been.

Another gust of wind swept by, drying her skin. Despite her newfound clarity, all of these revelations were little comfort in the face of her demise. Maren would have laughed at the irony if the queens had left her a proper mouth. At least death didn’t seem so painful as the screams of her victims had made it sound. The executioner, the being that even the queens had grown to fear as a monster, was going to die, dried up on land like some hapless fish that had unwittingly beached itself.

If there had been a higher power, and her wordless prayers had been heard in the darkness of her isolation, then maybe she had been spared from living in that hell any longer. After so many years of being a puppet, Maren wouldn’t be picky about the means of her salvation, and this was already too grand a fate for a monster such as herself. After all the innocent lives she had taken in the name of the queens, she deserved a far greater punishment. She accepted this death and was glad she could greet it in her own right mind.

As time continued to pass, Maren could feel her muscles gradually beginning to shrivel down as her breathing became ragged and the warmth against her skin continued to sap the life from her veins. Maren’s mind was fluttering away, split between fragmented memories of faces she could barely recall, until she felt something warm suddenly pressed under her scorched skin, lifting her up from her grassy resting place. The sudden shift cracked her skin at odd angles, causing sharp spikes of pain to run across her body, but she made no effort to move. Even with the sudden sensation of a beating heart coursing underneath her, the dehydration was too far along for Maren to comprehend anything until she suddenly lost track of the pulse and felt water enveloping her.

WIthin seconds of being submerged, her cracked skin healed over, and she began to explore the area, exhibiting a level of curiosity she thought had been lost to youth. A strange sense of wonder overtaking her foggy reason. Once satisfied with her findings, Maren turned her attention to the surface, she could sense another presence, and her newfound curiosity drove her to inspect.

“** ****, ****** *****.”

It was a strange chirpy language, nothing like the deep bellows she was familiar with from the Briney Court, but not entirely unpleasant. Even if she couldn’t understand the words, at this range, Maren was fairly confident when it came to gauging intent, and the voice sounded relieved. The emotion confused her, and after a brief hesitation, Maren found herself getting closer to the edge in an attempt to form a connection with one of her functional arms.

As Maren’s arm came in contact with an outstretched hand, she felt her limb quickly entangle the arm above to establish a connection. A flood of information cascaded freely into her mind as Maren saw the world through this creature’s eyes and understood his feelings, at least on the surface.

It wasn’t a skill she relied on, and had only resorted to it as a form of interrogation or out of pure desperation from isolation in her moments of clarity, and on every occasion she was met with a flood of negative emotions that were strangely absent here. Interested to find out more, Maren decided that it would be good to spark discussion with the creature so she could properly take in the terrain from the stranger’s eyes and enjoy the strange company she found herself in.

“Why am I here?”

She could tell he was quite shocked by her sudden intrusion into his mind, and flinched, waiting for him to pull away, but unlike the fear or anger that she had so often experienced with her own kind, the individual seemed more amused than anything.

“The tank you were being transported in broke open in the crash, I think? I was worried that I ate everyone, but if they were transporting you like that, then they probably deserved to die anyway...”

There was more that he wanted to say about that, but he stopped. There was no reason to pry about his eating habits, but at the mention of a tank, Maren quickly skimmed through his latest memories, carefully extracting what she was looking for. It was more of a glass coffin filled with stagnant water and salt crystals as far as she could tell. Frustrated by the torturous design, Maren pulled away, severing their connection while trying to remember how she could have ended up in such a thing?

“* ***** *** *** **** **** ********.”

The unintelligible words once more filled her mind, pulling it away from the putrid memory. Wondering if he had any more information about the situation, Maren quickly re-established the connection and caught his assumption that she had been kidnaped. A laughable conclusion, but he didn’t know any better. No one made it in and out of her cave alive, not while she was on the hunt, it was more likely the queens had drugged her last victim with something stronger than usual and tried to dispose of her for good. Though why they would go through all the trouble of shipping her in a glass coffin was a complete mystery. Whatever their intentions, there had been an intervention of some sort, and those involved had been properly taken care of.

“Thank you for saving me.”

A warm sensation spread through the connection as he exhibited genuine happiness at her remark. The surge shocked her slightly, but she found that it was an easy sensation to get used to. She had been given the salvation she longed for, and this creature had been the instrument to accomplish it.

Note: This is Maren after years of experimentation, all in the attempt to make an eldrich creature artificially. I use the term arms in place of tentacles because tentacles sounded a bit weird when I was writing it, and 'arms' has been used as an acceptable term, so I just went with it instead. Sorry for any confusion.