#and the emptiness left behind

[byanyan]

ㅤthinking about byan using arson as a tool for revenge... they learned about the concept of arson and were shown how to do it at age nine, when a group of older boys from school invited them along to burn down an old abandoned building (and then were subsequently abandoned themself, left inside with no warning wherein they were burned quite severely, though not nearly as badly as they could have been). the first time they did it themself, they were eleven, mad at the world, and staying with a rather nasty foster family. the house was set ablaze, everyone lost the majority of their belongings, byan scarred their hands permanently with burns (and their foster sister kit was hurt far worse), and on top of going to the hospital and quickly being removed from the care of those foster parents, they were also put into mandatory counselling.

the first time they ever used arson as a form of revenge rather than in a fit of rage, however, it was on the home of a teacher who was particularly awful to them. he effectively picked on them, never treated them fairly in class or in their grades, and always managed to make them feel dumb and worthless. he always seemed to especially love making fun of their mistakes when they would read out loud or when they failed to spell something correctly. at age twelve, byan was still rather quiet and timid, just trying to keep to themself and survive, and this man was only making their life more miserable and their anger harder to contain. so one night, after he humiliated them in front of their entire class because they misunderstood the topic they'd written an essay on, they set his house on fire. it didn't burn to the ground like they'd hoped, but it did more than enough damage to be satisfying. unfortunately, the incident was traced back to them and they were placed on probation, made to continue their mandatory counselling, and were enrolled in anger management classes.

another time, it was revenge on a man who attacked them on the street. they were no stranger to such a thing happening by fifteen, but it was the first time it happened since they had killed someone in self defence in a near identical scenario. this guy, they managed to fight off with less difficulty and managed to get away only mildly injured, but it triggered an episode of ptsd that made the next several weeks absolute hell. it was probably just shy of a month later when they spotted the guy again and, without really thinking about it, they started lurking, effectively stalking him the whole night, even staking out the bar he spent hours inside of, until they found out where he lived. after waiting another couple hours to ensure he was asleep, they broke in to his apartment, started a fire in the kitchen, and took off. as far as they know, he survived, although to this day they're not so sure they wanted him to.

[cozylittleartblog]

gooseworx in the glitchx livestream: i want to see people draw jax in a suit. people should draw him crying

me: sure thing, boss o7

[scumvillainess]

time travel au where a post-pidw shen qingqiu somehow travels back in time (either through death, the magic that still remains in yqy’s sword, etc.) to when he was the head disciple of qing jing peak.

of course, being able to travel back in time doesn’t come without a heavy price and in this case, shen qingqiu ends up having to give up the ability to feel emotions as an equivalent exchange to being brought back to the past.

shen qingqiu of course thinks this is the greatest gift that he’s ever been given and quickly moves on with his life. everyone else (read: yue qingyuan, liu qingge, etc.) on the other hand, is appropriately freaked out by this new version of shen qingqiu who just doesn’t seem to care anymore about anything or anyone.

[sofiaruelle]

Another commission for the lovely, @flowerandthesongstress of Sam, Sebastian and Abigail enjoying the afternoon sun.

The companion piece.

my commissions are Open!

[cherrywhite]

Silt Verses protagonists // Returning Home

[jiveyuncle]

Keith cringes at the hiss of the bedroom door sliding open and the unforgiving hall light racing in to fill the darkness. Still, Lance doesn't stir from where he lays sprawled out across the mattress, hair mussed in the pillow and foot hanging off the edge. Keith feels a twinge of guilt at encroaching on his space as he slides his jacket off to hang on the coat rack next to Lance's.

It's not that Keith isn't welcome here - he knows he is. This little back and forth pattern of theirs has been going on long enough that these motions should be as easy as sliding into his own bed, but it's not. Instead, it makes his heart ache just that little bit more, makes the pit of his stomach open up to swallow his insides and leave him feeling empty even as Lance pushes into his space each time to fill it. Because the problem is Lance is comfortable with Keith. He's comfortable with Keith because he is comfortable with everyone. It's who Lance is. Inviting. Open. Caring. He gives himself freely. And after the first few times of bumping into each other wandering the ship in the middle of the night in hopes of exhausting themselves into sleep, then actually falling asleep on the common room couch next to each other only to wake up with achy necks, Lance started boldly dragging Keith to bed and holding him in place to prevent him from wandering until morning.

“There's no way I'm letting you in bed with your shoes on.” Lance mumbles. A precautionary hand appears from under the sheets and flops down over the blanket to ward off any attempts to climb under them.

Keith lets out a huff of air that's just light enough to be considered a laugh. “I was going to kick them off.”

“No, no. We're civilized. Put them away.” The hand guarding the covers lifts and shoos him towards the wardrobe before dropping lazily.

“I wake up before you. You won't even see them.” Keith argues even as he crosses the room to oblige. The cabinet to the wardrobe cries out in protest as he opens it, and Keith winces, yet again, at any sound that disturbs the peaceful quiet. He makes a mental note to bug Hunk for some oil to grease the noisy hinges. If he's going to start putting his shoes in here, it's going to need to be quieter.

“I tripped over them when I got up to piss last time.”

Keith smiles to himself as he slinks back over, Lance already peeling the sheets back to invite him in. Keith slides down into the space to lie on his back and has to fight the urge to swallow hard when Lance's arm lowers down with the covers over his chest and never draws back away. “You're awake?” he says instead.

Lance hums quietly. “Brain won't shut off. The usual stuff. I was actually thinking about heading your way before you showed up.” Lance peeks an eye open, squinting through the exhaustion in the dim light. “You came in day clothes.”

“Walked a couple laps around the ship first. Didn’t know I was coming over.”

Lance lifts his chin in the hint of a nod before letting his eye fall back shut. “Glad I waited, then.” His fingers tug lightly near the collar of Keith's shirt, fiddling with the fabric in the mindless way he does with anything he can get his hands on - sometimes it's a leaf plucked from foliage as they trek through forested pathways, sometimes it's a pen spinning endlessly between his fingers during long diplomatic negotiations, sometimes it's a spoon that never settles back on his plate even an hour after he's taken his last bite and the conversation is flowing, and other times it's Keith’s shirt or hair or fingers at 3am when neither of them can sleep and whatever tension that is sustained in the daylight slips away.

And, as always, it sends a mixture of unwanted hope and desire through Keith's veins that quickly burns away to leave guilt in its destructive wake.

This habit. This closeness.

It means something different to each of them, and it's getting harder and harder for Keith's heart to remember that.

Keith reaches up to still the moving fingers on his chest, but Lance's unquestioning thumb seamlessly, innocently, agonizingly slips up along the side of his hand to trace over his knuckles instead.

Keith controls his next exhale and tries to ignore the gentle movement, but his mind can’t help supplying a word with each tender pass of a thumb: maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe there’s a chance. Maybe these things don't mean something quite so different to Lance. Maybe, if Keith offers a hand, then warm fingers will be there to take it.

Maybe.

He doesn't move again until Lance's breaths deepen and the soft brushes eventually slow to a stop.

When Keith rises in the morning, he bypasses the squeaky wardrobe, tugs on his jacket, and slides out into the hallway with only his socks to fight off the chill of the castleship floors from seeping into his feet. The warmth of a decision burns in his ribs as Keith settles into his lion 20 minutes later to start the early journey out to pick up a member of the Blade. Red senses the change, and a growl of approval rumbles through their bond, deep and affectionate and proud.

Keith’s mouth twitches up at the corner. He sends back his appreciation.

Dead Keith/Red Paladin Lance AU (Part 4/?)

Too bad he came to that decision a little late. Now, he’s kinda stuck not wanting to initiate something that he can no longer start.

Excited for y’all to spot where little nods to this snippet pop up in future chapters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You can now read this on AO3 as:

Empty Spaces You Left Behind

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

and then everyone had nightmares for a month. the end

[tovaicas]

↳ ꜱɴᴏᴡ + ᴄᴏᴇʀᴛʜᴀꜱ ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴇʀɴ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ

ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴇʀᴛʜᴀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟᴀᴍɪᴛʏ ʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴛɪɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ. ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇʀᴛɪʟᴇ ʙᴀɴᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ʀɪᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜰʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴇʀɴ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴇᴇᴍɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇxᴄᴇʟʟᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴢɪɴɢ. ᴀʟᴀꜱ, ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴠᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴢᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇɢᴇᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀꜱ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇʟɪʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪꜱʜɢᴀʀᴅ'ꜱ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴇᴘʜᴇʀᴅꜱ.

[dobodleaday]

09.21.24 “I feel empty. Don’t you?” 🫀

[fishareglorious]

why were they doing duels in court in chapter 4. is it a actual normalized thing for their world or saint pavlov just makes the defendant and the prosecution throw hands to see who comes out the victor. do they do it for every corruption case. can we watch madam z wrestle then dump a mug full of hot coffee on constantine's face godot ace attorney style for the whole breakout incident and for multiple instances of child murders

[taz-writes]

here's a hot take for today

the narrative function of sex is the same as the narrative function of fight scenes is the same as the narrative function of songs in a musical

no i will not explain

[clotpolesonly]

Mister Impossible ch 29 // Mister Impossible ch 31

[orangechickenpillow]

I'm feeling so normal about my childhood right now (it's almost 11pm and all I've ever wanted is to be taken care of)

[soullessjack]

What do you think they've done with all those diapers Cas and Kelly bought?

extra fuel for the funeral pyre perhaps?

[thelightwillbreakthrough]

…and if i said ‘maps’ from fun home is also spankoffski brothers coded (specifically pete’s pov)?

[endocathexis]

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