#euclid is ruined for me

[sleepanonymous]

I just wanna say that watching Mr. Vessel Sleep Token the First lay down in the middle of The Summoning tonight at Red Rocks was the most relatable thing I’ve ever seen him do. The Vessel/Mother Token fued may be over. I haven't decided yet, gonna sleep on it 🫡

[tonguetyd]

If your wings won’t find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone

I’ve always liked this line, but hearing it live made it click in a way it hadn’t before

Feels scheduled ahead

When Ves sang this line in Radio City I had the image pop in my head of the scene from It’s A Wonderful Life. “What do you want Mary, you want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and bring it down for you. Say that’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon.”

So another way to look at this line. “If you can’t find your heaven, despite the wings you have, despite the divinity you have been granted, if you just cannot find joy? That’s ok. I’ll bring it down for you. I’ll fight like hell for you. I’ll give you that joy, I’ll sauté those horrors, you postpone that funeral RIGHT now, I am going to find the heaven you deserve.”

I wish I could remember who it was (probably @melit0n ‘s Euclid essay tbh but it may have been someone else) but someone wrote a theory that Euclid is the first song written thru not the character of Vessel’s eyes, but the guy/singer/songwriter/ACTUAL dude on stage Vessel himself. And I thought it was kinda an interesting theory but I think combining that with this idea makes it a little weightier. Because, Vessel the character is very much a part of Vessel the guy by virtue of the fact he embodies the character on stage every night. Just as Vessel the guy is (presumably) in a lot of Vessel the character. They’re the same, he’s not real, hes just some guy, hes acid and alkaline, etc etc.

(Edit I reread my tags, this post from @a-s-levynn is definitely the first time I saw this idea, yes THANK YOU LEV)

So. Point being. If this is Vessel the guy singing to Vessel the character, “despite your wings and all that Sleep has given you, you still cannot find peace. So I will bring it down for you. I will be your mouthpiece, I will write the words and tell your story. And you will find the love you want.”

That’s Ves speaking to himself.

And I think that is incredibly powerful and the most self-romantic thing I have ever heard. I’ll be your my joy and bring you myself heaven and the moon.

.

Recovering from depression and wanting to leave everything behind is a long fucking road. Idk that you ever really stop being on that road. I certainly still feel like I’m on that road even all these years later, but…the biggest thing that keeps you going is for your past self. At least for me anyway. I fight for the little girl that lives in me who thinks she will never be loved and needs to be perfect and ruins everything and is constantly reminded of how unforgiving the world is.

Baby girl, if you can’t find yourself heaven, I will bring it down for you. I’ve got you. I am hugging you so tight and telling you everything will be okay, my love. Look at us now. We’re still here. And we’re just fine. We are doing great. We’re alright and loved. And I will keep fighting like hell for you and to keep you safe and happy.

And so I think this is similar to what Ves is saying to himself. And it makes it that much more of a hopeful song. “Yes, I must be someone new, but moreso…I will keep living.

I will fight, for you.”

The next time you sing that line. Sing it to your younger self. Or to the parts of you that you feel are most difficult to love. Promise to fight for them. Bring down heaven.

And try not to cry

And if YOUR wings won’t find you heaven? I got you, too. ❤️

[bionicle-ramblings]

The people have spoken!

Bionicle SCP AU!!

Big thanks to @chancetimespace for honestly entertaining this idea in the first place because this came out of left field😅

World stuff to get out of the way first:

The SCP here is basically the same as the usual SCP(Secure, Contain, Protect) with the added bonus of keeping the beings in its walls from getting out and disrupting the natural order

This is also something of a humanized au, so please bear with me

The Toa Metru are SCPs, each with their own quirks, as do other SCPs, but that's par for the course with anomalies

Lhikan, Naho, Sidorak, the Toa Mata, and Jaller are all scientists or are at least employees in the facility, with their jobs boiling down to keeping anomalies alive and in the facility. There are other workers, these are just who I thought of first

There is a facility trying to get an anomaly out, one that could possibly cause worldwide damage if set free. The anomaly has other acquaintances and allies, but it and the other facility are planning a breach

Takua/Takanuva is an anomaly

The Piraka are anomalies

There are objects that count as anomalies, namely masks. It is unknown how long these masks were tampering with natural order before their were apprehended

On to some of the SCPs themselves!

Off the bat, we have SCP-8545, Whenua. He appears to be a man in his mid-teenties to early thirties, but really he's been around since the 1200's, or so people think; 1215 was an exact year he mentioned as well as meeting philosophers and claiming they, "ruined a good day, and my lunch." Whenua can be hurt and does not regenerate, but his senses are heightened; he can see in the dark, has some level of echo location, and seems to have some level of X-Ray vision, proven when he stared at an agent and asked when they'd last been to the doctor. His Object Class is Safe and he is allowed to roam freely in the facility. He is also allowed to have belongings such as fossils he's kept with him and anitique books and objects from various points in history, including a draft drawing done by Leonardo DaVinci he claims to have won in a bet

SCP-8604, Onewa, is a mostly normal human being, but he has patches of stone on his body, most notably along his forehead, jaw, cheeks, arms, knuckles, torso, knees, back, legs, and feet. These patches make him nearly impermeable to physical damage and allow him to easily fight and gain the upper hand against other people. Also giving him an advantage, and what also made him difficult to capture, is that he has some level of telepathy, specifically making agents either forget him or ignore him. Upon his capture, he did need to be kept in a room with a two-way mirror; agents dicivered his telepathy is fully effective only when he can see his target and have their full attention on him while he commands them. Because of his telepathy and his subpar cooperation, he is classified as Euclid, only being allowed to roam if he wears a set of goggles that darken his vision and makes seeing others more difficult.

Matau, SCP-8740, also falls under the Euclid class. He is a shapeshifter, able to change his features at will and hold the appearance for as long as he wishes. Containment protocol including having a tracker injected into his body so that he could be found no matter what form he took. His original form appears to be mostly humanoid, only his skin is more reflective and scaley and he never blinks. Containment protocol has included that additions to having what is essentially an adult-sized play area in his area due to his high energy. He is only allowed outside if there is a guaranteed way to bring him back; he has had instances of nearly escaping as he slipped out of a window and formed a set of wings so he could fly.

SCP-8544 is Nuju, a human who agents found living alone with Nokama, another SCP and who was suffering from hypothermia. Nuju himself is immune to the cold and is able to love in firgid temperatures comfortably; he can be burned with heat, but rarely needs such extreme measures to be contained. He also has sharp vision and can read the stars in the sky like books, being an astronomer/astrologist, though this has translated to him being able to predict the future with steady success rates. Agents were surprised to see he had telekinetic powers, but only to the point of lifting and throwing objects and holding doors shut. His Object Class is Euclid due to his practicing using telekinesis to do more advanced things like stop a heart.

As previously mentioned, Nokama, SCP-8737, was found and apprehended with Nuju. She had been experiencing hypothermia due to swimming in a nearby frozen lake. When she recovered, she, at first, spoke to the agents in fluent Russian. When no one understood her, she spoke again in French. She spoke in various languages with perfect fluency, including dead languages such as Mayan and Latin, before finally speaking to the agents in English. When asked when she learned so many languages, she in turn asked why the agents never learned a fraction of the languages. Examination revealed she had a set of gills in her lungs, which allowed her to breathe underwater. Containment protocol is to let her have a pool in her room, as she is more comfortable underwater than above or outside of it. Object Class is Safe.

Vakama, SCP-8601, has been the longest staying anomaly of the SCPs listed. Similar to Nuju, Vakama is immune to heat, though he can be hurt by frigid temperatures. Unlike Nuju, Vakama is far more volatile as in moments of extreme distress or anger, he seems to begin to combust from the inside. When he's stable, he is safe enough to touch for prolonged periods of time, though there have been occasions where his body temperature drops until he has the same body temperature as the average human being. Agents were alerted of his presence by too many coincidences lining up with one another, namely too many premature prescribed burns and demolitions with a bit of jewelry of piece of metal artwork left behind. Vakama was found near an abandoned factory, though agents thought they'd only found a fire. Upon putting out the flame, they found and apprehended Vakama, who would explain he knew they would be in the area and wanted them to find him. They learned that Vakama could see the future, something he has no control over. During these visions, the flame grows and Vakama himself turns invisible. Despite his Euclid Object Class and permission/ability to free roam, Vakama rarely leaves his holding area, only requesting to have metal working materials and a calender

SCP-40581-1 is Takua/Takanuva, the names being used interchangeably as he can switch between two bodies, only able to inhabit one at a time. When in control of one bkdy, the other lays dormant in what appears to be a comatose state. Takua appears to be a small humanoid while Takanuva appears to be a humanoid crystal with a prominent internal glow. When asked, he explained it in a similar way to walking through a door and laying on a couch or bed. Agents have theories on how the anomaly came to be, but have more trouble keeping Takua in one place as he is apt to explore the facility(Object Class: Safe, if not mildly annoying). There have been recorded incidents of the slumbering body of Takanuva twitching and speaking. Takua claims to know nothing of what is said. It is unknown as of yet if damage to one body is carried on to the other

[1heartfanfics]

If any of you have heard the song euclid by sleep token this is a loosely based song fic. I was watching 9-1-1 lonestar when I discovered and became obsessed with this song, and it immediately made me think of Carlos and T.K. You don't need to be familiar with the song but I do recommend listening to it just cause its one of my fave songs and I love it.

TW: mentions of addiction

"T.K, you're gonna be late!" Carlos called from down the hallway as he pulled on his uniform. They were both supposed to be at the work in 45 minutes but T.K. hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.

When he received no response, Carlos walked back to the bedroom to physically haul his fiance out of bed. He found T.K. awake, laying curled up on his side and staring blankly at the wall.

"T.K?" Carlos asked, frowning. Something was wrong.

"Just give me five more minutes," T.K. said quietly, pleading. A single tear slid down his face and onto the mattress.

"Baby... what's going on?" Carlos asked, moving to crouch down next to the bed in front of T.K.

T.K. sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I just- I just can't,"

"Okay, that's okay." Carlos nodded, reaching out to cup T.K.'s cheek with his hand. He used his thumb to swipe away the tears.

"I can't stop thinking about it.. feels like it's burning me up from the inside," T.K. cried, curling in on himself even more as his tears started to fall more freely.

'Drugs', Carlos thought, putting the pieces together. T.K. was thinking about using. He'd known that T.K. had been struggling since Sadie had dosed them, but he'd gone to so many meetings and hadn't said anything so Carlos had figured that he was handling it okay. Apparently he hadn't been paying enough attention.

"Well don't keep it inside then, talk to me baby," Carlos said. He stood up from his crouched position and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through T.K.'s hair.

T.K. took a shaky breath. He'd never talked to Carlos about his addiction, not really. Carlos knew his past, the history, but T.K. had never talked to him about the cravings or any of the other mental struggles that came with being sober.

"It's hard to explain," he started with a sigh.

"Just try, it's okay," Carlos said, smiling reassuringly.

T.K. sighed again, "It feels like... like my addiction, and my past... like it's haunting me."

Carlos didn't understand, but he nodded anyway, encouraging T.K. to keep going.

"Like it's right out there in the hallway watching me, waiting for me to screw up," T.K. feels his face grow warm, flushing red with shame. He should be better than this. "I just feel so heavy-" he breaks off with a sob.

"Oh Tyler... come here baby," Carlos said softly, pulling T.K. into his arms. T.K. fell against Carlos's chest, grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt to keep himself grounded.

Carlos gently rocked them back and forth, one hand tangled in T.K.'s hair, the other wrapped tightly on his waist.

"Shh, shh, shh," Carlos whispered, "I've got you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

T.K. picked up his phone for the hundredth time that day, contemplating calling his boyfriend. He was struggling today, again, but he didn't want to bother Carlos at work. He still had 5 hours left on his shift.

He wasn't thinking about using exactly, it's not like he was planning out where he could go to get drugs or how he'd hide it from Carlos or anything like that. But he was thinking about drugs. Thinking about how it was only a matter of time before he fucked up.

That's what the universe had been trying to tell him hadn't it?

He'd gotten too comfortable in his sobriety. So Sadie came along to ruin it and remind him that he was an addict. Once an addict, always an addict. It was his fate; a bad day, a relapse, an overdose.

T.K. felt his breathing start to quicken. He suddenly felt like the room was spinning, and suffocatingly hot. It was hard to breath.

This time when he picked up his phone, he did call Carlos. It rang and rang and rang and went to voicemail. T.K. felt like crying. He couldn't do this alone.

"Hi, it's me." T.K. started, his voice sounding shaky and hoarse. "Call me when you get the chance? I-I just.. it feels like the walls are closing in around me and... just call me. Please?"

T.K. hung up, a sob escaping him as his vision blurred and tears started to fall down his cheeks. He couldn't do this...

Then his phone rang.

"C-carlos?" he answered quickly

"Baby? What's going on?" Carlos answered, sounding worried.

T.K. melted at the sound of his voice, his eyes slipping shut in relief. Even just hearing him made everything seem a little bit easier.

"I'm sorry.. I'm just- I'm having a hard time today," T.K. answered, feeling embarrassed all over again for needing Carlos so much.

"Hey, you don't need to be sorry T.K. You can always call me when you need me. Just talk to me, yeah?" Carlos assured him.

T.K. was quiet for a moment, Carlos waiting patiently for him to find the words to explain how he was feeling. "I can't get away from it. It's too much and it never stops," he said after a minute.

"But you have gotten away from it before baby. And I can't imagine how hard this is, having your sobriety taken from you like that, but I know that you'll get through it again. We will get through it," Carlos said.

"How am I supposed to get through it when it's everywhere? When I close my eyes, it's there. When I open them it's like I'm watching my past play out of the ceiling, like a movie that I can't stop from watching," T.K. rambled, silent tears slipping down his cheeks as he spoke.

"I'm sure it will fade with time T.K..." Carlos trails off. Truthfully he doesn't know what to say. "I wish I could take this from you," he said quietly, his heart hurting for his boyfriend.

"No." T.K. said quickly, "Don't say that. I hope to god you never know this feeling Carlos."

"Okay, okay, you're right," Carlos conceded, although he would still take all of T.K.'s pain upon himself if he could. "But I am going to be right by your side through all of this," he added.

T.K. sighed, "I know. You are my solid ground Carlos, I couldn't do this without you."

"But Tyler you are so strong. You've been through so much and yet you're still here, fighting every day and saving other people's lives in the process," Carlos said. He truly was in awe of T.K.'s ability to push through any scenario and come out even stronger on the other side."

Carlos's radio chirped in the background and T.K. knew that meant he had to go.

"I'll be home soon okay? But call again if you need me, I'll answer as soon as I can. I love you," Carlos said quickly before hanging up.

T.K.'s chest felt tight in the absence of Carlos's voice. He set his phone down, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Even if T.K. couldn't reach his sobriety by himself this time, Carlos would be there to help bring it down to him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, it's me. Call me when you have the time please?"

Carlos's heart sunk when he heard the voicemail T.K. had left. He must be having another rough day with his sobriety. Since he had a few moments, Carlos pressed on T.K.'s name to call him back. He waited as it rang, but received no answer. Shit.

'He's probably fine. Maybe he's in the bathroom or something,' Carlos thought. He forced himself to wait a few minutes, leg tapping nervously, before he tried calling again. Still no answer.

That's it. He quickly radioed his team to let them know he was going out patrolling. They didn't need to know that he was planning on patrolling his own home. As he pulled out of the station lot he quickly sent T.K. a text.

'Call me back if you get this please. Just want to make sure you're okay.'

But T.K. still hadn't answered when he pulled up at their loft. He hurried up the stairs and unlocked the door.

"T.K.?" he called into the dark and quiet loft. "Tyler?" he called again, walking through the living room to their bedroom. He'd seen T.K.'s car outside so he had to be here.

But the bedroom was empty too. And so was the bathroom. Carlos was at least grateful that he hadn't found his boyfriend unconscious or harming himself somehow. But his heart was still pounding with worry, T.K.'s vague voicemail echoing in his ears.

The front door opened then.

"Carlos?" T.K.'s voice called out, having seen the cruiser in front of the loft.

"T.K.! Are you okay?" Carlos rushed out to the kitchen to meet his boyfriend, who was wearing shorts and a tank, damp with sweat. He'd gone for a run, that was all. Carlos breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm alright," T.K. shrugged, "What are you doing here?"

"I got your voicemail but you didn't answer when I called back. I got worried," Carlos explained.

"Shit, sorry. I went running and didn't take my phone with me. I just had to get out of here," T.K. said, wincing. He realized how worrisome his brief voicemail and then radio silence could have seemed. "I'm so sorry baby, I didn't mean to worry you," he added.

"It's okay baby, I'm just glad you're okay," Carlos said, reaching out for his boyfriend.

"I'm all sweaty," T.K. warned.

Carlos just shook his head, "I don't care, come here."

So T.K. let Carlos pull him into his arms, holding him tightly. T.K. rested his head on Carlos's shoulder, breathing him in. His run had helped, but this helped even more.

"Are you really okay?" Carlos asked, pulling back slightly.

T.K. hesitated, shrugging again. "I think so? It's just hard when I'm off and you're not. I don't know what to do with myself and I start feeling all couped up."

"I know, I wish I could get my schedule to match up with yours," Carlos nodded. He had tried. He'd talked to his boss, who had been sympathetic, but had still told him that there wasn't much he could do at the moment.

T.K. shook his head, "I know that's out of your control. It's just hard when I'm here with myself. I wish I could just leave this part of me behind," he said, voice shaking slightly with emotion.

"This is just another part of what's made you who you are. We're all shaped by our experiences T.K., good and bad," Carlos said.

"I know, but right now it isn't a past experience cause it's happening again. Because of that bitch my addiction is like 'hey loser, remember me?'" T.K. rarely cursed, but it felt appropriate when talking about this. Sadie had ruined everything he'd worked so hard for.

"I hate her for doing this to you too baby. But you will get through this, I know you will. And I'll be right here by your side the whole time, always. That's all that matters right now," Carlos said, pulling T.K. close to him again, holding him tight. If he could, he would never let him go.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Baby? Are you okay?" Carlos asked, having woken up to find T.K. sitting up in bed next to him.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," T.K. said instead of answering his question.

"You didn't, what's going on?" Carlos asked, sitting up as well.

"I'm okay," T.K. said, leaning his head down onto Carlos's shoulder.

"T.K..." Carlos sighed, he thought they'd gotten past this false cover of being okay that T.K. used to hide beneath.

"I really am okay Carlos I promise. I'm just thinking, couldn't sleep," T.K. insisted. Carlos relaxed a little, leaning his head down against T.K.'s. He sounded like he meant it.

"Thinking about what?" Carlos asked, grabbing one of T.K.'s hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of T.K.'s hand.

"About my addiction," T.K. shrugged. "About how it's a part of me, like you said. I won't ever be able to get rid of it, but I can own it. It belongs to me and I have control over it," he explained.

"That's a good way of thinking about it," Carlos agreed.

T.K. nodded, "I kind of feel like a new person. Or at least back to being the person I was before this happened."

"That's good," Carlos said, lifting his head up and turning to face T.K. "Hey," he continued quietly. T.K. turned to face Carlos as well. "I am so proud of you," Carlos said, reaching out to hold T.K.'s face in his hands, leaning their foreheads together.

"I couldn't have done it without you," T.K. whispered into the dark of their bedroom.

"You could have, but I'm glad you didn't have to," Carlos whispered back.

They sat there like that for a minute, quietly breathing each other in. Eventually T.K. let Carlos maneuver him until they were both laying down again, legs tangled under the covers, his head on Carlos's chest. Here, in Carlos's arms, he felt safe. And he knew that he truly would be okay.

**Author's note: I realized that this song also would have fit Destiel pretty well but for some reason I've always associated it with T.K.'s addiction so that's how I wrote it. Anyway, hope you liked it. Also some of the working might seem a little weird just cause I was trying to fit the lyrics in.

[phthalology]

Destiny 2: Anima Inquisitione

Throne World frogs were first identified in the Pale Heart approximately three days after the defeat of the Witness. The Hidden surmised the frogs had been brought there by the Lucent Brood, by accident or on purpose. Being an entirely paracausal landscape created by a mixture of Guardians’ memories and the Traveler’s terraforming, and, having existed for such a short time as the Pale Heart had, the definition of invasive species in this situation was unclear. The recommended reaction to the frogs was, therefore, to wait and see how they adapted. A committee was formed to discuss possible future environmental management, including introduction of the frogs’ predators, namely swamp snakes and great horned owls. Ikora had also encouraged the Hidden to tag frogs. 

“There’s one,” said Euclid, pointing down the sand bar. Sand grains clattered off his chassis. Far above, on the top of the sunny cliffs, was the Hunters’ camp and the recreation of the old Tower.

The Hero of the Red War flicked her half-gaze to the rather large frog in the surf. One Ghost darted in the air. 

Old made new made old made new, thought Euclid. The grassy overhang on what had been the Vanguards’ ready room looked now as ancient as the Ishtar Academy. The Tower inside the Pale Heart was different from the ruins of the real old Tower. It even smelled different, all green sap and petrichor. But, the Light considered this version somehow definitive. Odd. Euclid and Kass had seen what that meant for Cayde.

What did it mean for Euclid? 

Euclid and Kass walked with measured paces toward the frog, angling to keep their shadows off it. 

The silence between the two Warlocks was comfortable, but the location was not. Even the beautiful sandbars were uncanny. Euclid reached down and scooped up a handful of sand and salt. The tan grains stood out against his robes and his metal palm. Like many things in this world, the grains of sand were made of memory. They had been formed from pieces of objects, chopped up with the clean butchery so eerily reminiscent of the Witness’ Final Shape. The grains of sand were unusually large, more like pebbles. As he turned them over he could pick out the spines of a War Beast, then stone eyes, then the tines of a Ghost. 

In the final battle, he had watched Kass’ Ghost channel the Light. Ghost had lived and died and lived enough for both Kass and Euclid. What little left of Euclid there was: Yarrow had shrugged her strong arm up under his shoulders in order to keep some important panels from peeling off. Euclid mostly remembered the pain in his head, toward the end, because his Ghost Constant had not been there. 

“I miss the Traveler,” Euclid said, knowing the words were apropos of nothing, old nerves rattling which he’d thought were firmly screwed in. “The old Traveler. But it was never inclined to speak one-on-one, hah.”

Kass matched his tone smoothly, as if they weren’t stalking toward a frog like kittens. “No. But through visions and birds and …”

Ghost flitted into existence at Kass’ shoulder, his eye light dimmed in comparison to the forever-noon false sun. Kass reached out a hand and Ghost cuddled into it with attentive affection.

“And here we are, talking about the Traveler inside it. What — Oof.” Euclid stepped into the waves, splashing, and grabbed the frog. His fingers fit just under its wet limbs. Holding it felt like holding a turtle, except that the antennae buzzed. “What odd gossip. What I mean by missing it is, I hear about that feeling of connection to the Traveler that Cayde had, but it’s alien to me. Cayde said himself he interrupted the grieving process, but, meanwhile, he had proof that the Traveler had loved him.”

“I want that proof, too.” Kass looked down.

“I don’t.” Euclid gestured with the frog. 

Kass raised her chin again. The sunlight caught on a white strip of bark in her striated eye like noon might catch on the blade of her sword.  

“It’s more that I’d like to have experienced it,” Euclid said. “I’d like to have been able to, to tell Taeko about it, hear what irreverent thing she would say. Taeko, she said to me, Cayde might not have been that different from what her fireteammates became. Batteries for the Light. Except on our side.” 

The frog’s legs stoped wiggling. Its antenna drifted, as if it was curious about the differences in the air this high off the ground. 

Kass held both her hands out for the frog so Euclid could fish a band out of a pouch. 

“I know,” Kass said, and asked about Taeko, and they talked happily of her while they clipped the band on and entered its number in the database. The frog pedaled its legs and did not croak or chirp.

Euclid’s thoughts drifted while they worked. He was needed on Venus next; Failsafe had detected oddities among the Vex. Euclid suspected he knew exactly what awaited him there: the unknowable, times and identities repeating, quantum froth bubbling up alongside Warlock egos. But that was next. This, the beach made of jumbled memories and the water clear as stolen crystal — this was now. Kass handed Euclid the frog. 

He put the insect-amphibian down, feeling and hoping for and dismissing the familiarity of having something small by his side, something friendly moving out of the corner of his eye. The frog hopped across the sand toward the land past the sand bars. Euclid wondered, with a warm curiosity, where it would go. 

*

Euclid belongs to @saltineofswing. Happy belated birthday! Yarrow belongs to @darkwingerduck

[sugar-phoenix]

I wrote that one tumblr post

so I've already reblogged the original but now i'm posting it by itself here:

"Euclid! Euclid," Doyle squawked as he spotted the black feline familiar, lazing away in a circle of auburn leaves. "Euclid, there's been an emergency."

"That's Euclid Nathaniel Grey to you, raven," the cat said, eyeing Doyle distastefully. “And don’t bother me, I have more important things to attend to.”

“What, like sleeping? This is serious, Euclid.” Doyle pecked at Euclid’s tail, earning him a hiss. 

“Yes, and I distinctly remember seeing you the last time you said something was serious, and it was because you had a particularly bad piece of fish. You were pestering your witch the whole time, I saw you. Now go bother her instead of me.” Euclid flicked his tail at Doyle, but the raven dodged.

“That’s just the thing, Euclid. My witch is gone.”

“Surely you’re exaggerating. She must’ve dipped out somewhere while you weren’t looking.”

“Euclid, she was taken away. I don’t feel the familiar bond with her anymore, and there were signs of a struggle. In the house. A struggle, Euclid!”

“So what could you possibly want me to do about it? I don’t owe you any favors, and on top of that, I’m just a cat.”

“I want you to tell your witch she’s gone! Surely your witch will be able to do something about it.”

Euclid stared at Doyle for a moment, then flopped back down.

“Euclid! This is actually serious! I’m not lying!”

“I know.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my witch has disappeared as well.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Then what are you lazing around here for?” Doyle asked. 

“I just told you, Doyle. I’m a cat. I can’t do anything about it. I’ve looked all around for her and I haven’t been able to find her. On top of that, like you said, my bond with her is also weak.”

“So you’ve just given up?” Doyle asked. Euclid flicked his tail, and Doyle could see the look of disgust on his face.

“I haven’t given up. I’m simply waiting for her to come back.”

“That sounds like giving up to me.”

Euclid sat up. “Then what do you propose we do? You’re a raven. I’m a cat. We have absolutely no idea where in the world our witches could be.”

“We’ll go see Ryr. And ask him to tell his warlock.”

“No thanks. You do that, I’m staying here.” Euclid laid back down on the tiles.

“Alright. I will, and when we rescue Morgana and Luella, they’ll know it was I who went to save them, and not you. Perhaps Luella will feed you half your daily ration then.”

Euclid glared at Doyle, his irises turning to slits. “Very well, raven. I’ll go with you.” 

“Good. I knew you’d come to your senses.” Doyle turned towards the gate and hopped along, looking back to check if Euclid was following. And to his relief, he was.

much later on in the story...

"I've found a lead, Euclid." Doyle descended from the smoky skies down into the dank alleyway. "I know who we're talking to next."

"Who?" Euclid asked.

"Felicia Baranov."

"Absolutely not," Euclid said, without missing a beat.

"Euclid, you can't be serious," Doyle said. "I don't care what kind of rivalry you have with this cat, we need to talk to her in order to save our witches."

"I absolutely cannot. See her." Euclid said. His tail thrashed back and forth. "You go and speak to her, and when you get the necessary information simply come back to me and we shall proceed."

"Euclid, she'll tear me to shreds. You can't possibly -- What do you have against her anyway?"

"It's none of your business."

"You like her."

The ensuing hiss that came after that told Doyle he was very much correct.

"You're wrong," Euclid said.

"Euclid, you're a coward of a cat if a crush is stopping you from gaining critical knowledge to save your witch."

They stared at each other, raven and cat, in the dark and dank alleyway of downtown London.

"Fine," Euclid gritted out.

"Don't worry. I'll try not to ruin your chances," Doyle teased.

[sleeptokeninterpretations]

Talking about the trilogy and how "Sundowning" didn't stop after the first album

TW: alzheimers, death, grief It’s no news the albums can be seen as a trilogy, we all know about TNDNBTG and Euclid, there has got to be some kind of connection. Now if we look at the title of album nr.1 “Sundowning” we could look into how this album might describe the journey of someone with Alzheimer’s disease. More specifically I believe the album lets us have a look into the world of someone whose loved one is slowly becoming more and more sick. “And you remember everything until the sun recedes once again” can be taken very literally. Also if we think of Blood Sport, it could definitely imply the speaker trying to hold on to their loved one but failing to do so (“I can’t win”). Now, I don’t necessarily believe the journey stops there. Once again taking album names very literally, “This Place Will Become Your Tomb” might represent the final stages of Alzheimers and eventually the death of the person in question. I won’t go into detail on every song because we’d be here for a while then but just to give a few examples: Fall For Me might describe a stage where the loved one no longer recognises the speaker as a close relative and instead assume they are trying to harm them, so the speaker is just desperately trying to explain how they are still full of the love the loved one wants. Finally Missing Limbs shows the speaker indulging into the world of their loved one after they have passed. Now that they don’t have to actively react to actions of their loved one anymore, they have time to reflect and understand how horrible the last time must have been for them. Lastly we have Take Me Back To Eden as a representation of the speaker slowly getting back to their life as it used to be. “Eden” can here be seen as the state where the speaker wasn’t yet aware of diseases like Alzheimers ruining one’s life, when they still managed to live carelessly. With Euclid lyrically circling back to TNDNBTG we have a final goodbye to their loved one before finally letting go. This is very short now, let me know if you want a detailed explanation for each album, I might consider posting this in three parts then :)

[bemytruemuse]

In the existance of the present we experience only in body Yet through the expanse of time we experience in mind and self Unbound and untamed to the ineffable reins of future and fate It is all one can do to decipher the ruins of what was once whole and beautiful.

The following posts contain what I feel to be parallels and references between Sleep Token songs. These are my own personal conclusions and theories of what may be a deeper look into the Sleep Token lore, all of which have yet to be confirmed by the band themselves(as far as I am aware). Feel free to discuss and theorize the subjects of these posts, but please do not take them as confirmed fact of the Sleep Token lore. These posts will be subject to change as updates are made. Worship.

The Night Does Not Belong To God + Missing Limbs + High Water Blood Sport + Euclid DYWTYLM + Rain Say That You Will + The Apparition Vore + Euclid The Apparition + Take Me Back To Eden Descending + Telomeres The Apparition + Give + Take Me Back To Eden Calcutta + Nazareth + The Way That You Were

[cookiecrumbles52]

Welcome to Palace

About the Artist . . .

Name: Madison Riley (aka CookieCrumbles52 or Fale “Fae”)

Current Age: 23

Fav Color: Blue

Fav Food: Pasta 🍝

Current Fav Animal: Siberian Sable

Years of Experience (Art/Writing): 12yrs

Status: "The Grandma Friend" & "Just an Anxious Little Bean"

Main Fandoms:

TMNT, Pokémon, DC Comics, Minecraft, FNaF's, Undertale, Wakfu, Voltron, The Arcana, Zelda BotW/TotK, The Octonauts, Poppy Playtime, Moomin

Current Fav Illustration(s): “ Cult of the Lost ” ( 9hrs 8m ) and “ Fale_Tsuyoshi has joined the game. ” (Over 12hrs, half of the project was lost) “ Assessing the Damage ” ( 8hrs 37min )

Tools of the Trade:

Pencil, Paper, Tablet — Procreate, my brains

Other Interests:

Writing, Video Games, Lore Theories, Cosplay

(Aka a massive nerd)

Want to see more of my works? Here are my socials (I don’t post art on my main account just reblogs)

ASKS ARE OPEN . . .

[ No DM's unless you're a Mutual, please. I've had way too many people follow me just to DM requests for art. I'm not doing any requests or trades (unless stated otherwise), my comms are closed, please don't DM just so I draw something for you. I'm an adult with a very busy life/work schedule, I'll only warn you once. If it keeps up I'll have to block you. ]

—

More interests if you care for my ramblings . . .

(This is the point of no return so if you actually want to get to know me then you gotta commit!!)

Favorite Visual Artists:

flowerygarrland, fdevitart, Lackadaisy, Froustious, Jerome-K-Moore, Don Bluth, Earthsong9405, Neytirix, Sadist Animations. Suzukiwee1357, Richard Chen (Insta), Burrotello, Van Gogh, Hayao Miyazaki, Cartoon Saloon

Favorite Movies:

(All) DragonHeart Movies, (All) TMNT Movies, First Knight, King Arthur, Narnia, (All) Jurassic Movies, Quest for Camelot, Stardust, Ophelia, Oliver & Company, FNaF's, Sahara, The Christmas Dragon, Justin and the Knights of Valour, Monster in Paris, Song of the Sea, (All) Studio Ghibli (Except Grave of the Fireflies . . .😭)

Favorite TV Shows:

TMNT, The Octonauts/Above and Beyond, Moomin, BBC Merlin/Sherlock, HeMan, SheRa, ThunderCats, Rainbow Brite, Voltron, The Gummi Bears, Jane and the Dragon

Anime:

Fairy Tail, BlackButler, Inuyasha, OHSHC, Free: Iwatobi Swim Club, Life of a Househusband, BNHA

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists:

The Oh Hellos, Kalandra, Rag'n'Bone Man, Jason Graves, Cody Fry, Cosmo Sheldrake, CG5, Dzivia, Sail North, Natewantsbattle, PEGGY, Billy Joel, Yaelokre, ABBA, Michael Jackson

Fav Genre of Music:

Singer Songwriter, Musicals, Whimsical Fae Vibes, Folk, Cultural Folk

Favorite Songs: (Changes may very)

"Mother to a Savior and King" - Journey to Bethlehem, "Still" by Hunter Hayes, "Top of the World" by Shawn Mendes, TWRP - "Starlight Brigade", "Harpy Hare" by Yaelokre, "Euclid" by Sleep Spoken, "What Makes Me Tick" by JT Music, “Ruined Lullaby” - CG5, "False Idol" by Ivycomb, Octonauts Theme Song & Creature Report

Fav Musicals:

Anastasia, Wicked, Dear Evan Hansen, School of Rock, Shrek, Alice in Wonderland, Newsies, Phantom of the Opera, The Prince of Egypt, In Strange Woods, EPIC, Jane Eyre, The Lion King

Favorite Books:

The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Six of Crows, Alice in Wonderland, King Arthur, Beauty & the Beast, Sherlock Holmes, Rise of the Guardians (GoC), Outsiders, Number the Stars, The Hobbit, Narnia

Favorite Writers:

C.S.Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Jane Austen, Frances Hodgson Burnett

Favorite Games:

Jinx & Minx’s Tower, Minecraft, Undertale, FNaF's, Zelda: BotW/ToTK, Prop Hunt, Sims 4, Lay, Mario: Galaxy/Kart/Super Mario Bros, Untitled Goose Game, Animal Crossing, Cult of the Lamb, Harold Halibut

Favorite Gaming Platform:

Nintendo, Steam Powered

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk :)

[ Updated: Sept. 2024 ]

[theteethofgod]

Haiii - top 10 favourite albums??? Bonus points for also giving us your favourite song off each!! ~I’m after new music~

🫡🫡 yes boss.

fair warning: my taste is acquired and inconsistent. i’ll give a few fave tracks to make up for the fact that i can’t be fucked to link to them.

in no particular order:

1) with teeth - nine inch nails

- every day is exactly the same

- right where it belongs (version 2)

- all the love in the world

2) the generation of danger - tallah

- the impressionist

- for the recognition

- of nothing

3) dirt - alice in chains

- down in a hole

- godsmack

- dam that river

4) slipknot - vol.3: the subliminal verses

- the virus of life

- vermillion

- danger - keep away

5) take me back to eden - sleep token

- euclid

- vore

- ascensionism

6) heavy is the crown - hungry lights

- demetrius

- wickerman

- the worst of evils

7) dear rudiff - prilly t

- silver lining

- gutter

- deaf parrot

8) superbuick- mushroomhead

- fear held dear

- idle worship

- never let it go

9) DXXM - scarlxrd

- angels sleep at 4am

- bxiling pxint

- hell is xn earth

10) bleed the future - archspire

- the golden mouth of ruin

- drone corpse aviator

- reverie on the onyx

[kaddyssammlung]

“if my fate is a bad collision”

Sleep Token - Euclid

I was in two car accidents. None of them were my fault. I got rear-ended twice. The funny thing? They both happened in 2019. The last one of them is the one that could have been the end of this incarnation. But it wasn't. I could feel something protect me.

Let's start from the begging.

I was driving home from home from work. There was a construction site on the road. I had to wait for the lights to turn green so I was allowed to go. Welp. I was just waiting there when I suddenly felt something. It was like a soft and gentle breeze. It felt nice. The next second? That horrible noise when metal crashes into metal. It's a horrible noise especially when you sit inside the car.

A car crashed into mine. That dude did not even step on his break. He came driving with 100km/h and ran into my car which was standing there.

You don't really realize what just happened in a moment like that. His car looked more fucked then mine but mine was also ruined. You could barley open a door. I don't have any photos saved. I did not want to. I don't ever want to look at something like this ever again.

The police came and sorted everything. This was one of those rare days where I could not hide any of my BPD symptoms. It was quite funny. The police officer had to hold me back at some point because I got so furious that I was about to hit that dude who ran into me. I still want punch him. I realize this now that I am writing this.

Anyway.

It all took quite some time. My dad came to pick me up because I had no more car.

I was really lucky. I was told a few times that it was a miracle that no one was injured given the states of both of the cars.

That warm gentle breeze? It was a guardian angel.

There are things you just know. You can't explain them and I understand why someone has trouble understanding this.

I just know.

[ask-site-61]

CHARACTERS -

Co-Site Director Benjamin Oliver Walker - Co-Site Director, (Wise-)Bright's Husband, Founder of The Library, Head of Pedology, but most importantly: good boy extraordinaire and D-9341 variant.

Dr. Jack Bright (Wise) - Holy fuck there's so much to say about him. Chaos incarnate.

Assistant Researcher Emily Ross - Died in The 2012 Catastrophe.. wonder how she's back. (SCP-061-ICE)

Pontos Doe - Himbo intern who's into greek mythology.

Dr. Wilhem Cure - Site Head of Medicine… probably the only LITERAL doctor on-site.

Agent Ulgrin - KYS'd after 2012 Catastrophe. Got SCP-061-ICE'd (trust me you'll see what it is in time.)

Researcher Penelope Normelle - Literally the most normal person here.

Site Director Bjärk Jakobssons - Quick to snap, jeez louise. Can teleport and is omnipotent across the Site.

George Olkassen - Class-D. Everyone calls him Georgie though. Cool kid wannabe.

Electra Macbeth - Longest-running Class-D. Seriously. How is she STILL alive.

Cookie - Nickname for one of the trans characters!! :3

Dr. Alto Clef (Wise) - Oh what a fucking asshole. Seriously. Only showing up when it entertains him. Might be fucking Maynard.

Dr. Akihito Saku - The Foundation's lovable "Head of Safe Classed Objects"; always the goofball.

Dr. Hartwell Artz - The Foundation's controversial "Head of Euclid Classed Objects"; he's better safe than sorry.

Dr. Amberlynn Rhodes - Th Foundation's rather enigmatic "Head of Keter Classed Objects"; it purported she's resistant against kill agents. Basically the middle ground of Saku and Artz. Not gonna snap at you for pressing a button, but still takes her work seriously.

Senior Researcher Thomas Rivbacht - Jeez.. uh… well, he doesn't take care of himself.. at all… he really should. He uh.. misses his family and is extremely depressive. Reclusive, too.

Dr. George Maynard - Mastermind of The 2013 Catastrophe. Forgiven, but scrutinized. Pale white skin since The Chaos Insurgency revived him utilizing a spliced variant of SCP-049's Touch.

Dr. Jack Bright (Emo) - I CHIME IN!! HAVEN'T YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF.. CLOSING THE GODDAMN DOOR, NO???

Head Nelson Van Martins - The GOC's Icelandic Head. He lied. He's 16, not 18. Either way, he's here now and ready to stay.

Operative Roxxane Sparkes - Another trnas character!! This one being a member of Site Guard who's easily distracted. ^^

Researcher Carly Rosè Colbert - Espionage for The French Government; truly, The French must be stopped.

Researcher Stella Gospelle - The name says it all; "EVERYBODY LOVES STELLLLAAHHHH!"; drama queen and gossip bitch. She will ruin your life.

Site Head of Ethics, Jessica Parish - One of three. The enigmatic Parish Family. Anyways, besides often being mistaken for a bimbo, she's actually quite fierce and once threatened to rip the throat of Darvann out.

Junior Researcher Alexander Grimmes - "Foundation Head of Neutralized Objects"; but more over, attention-seeking extravagant.

Dr. Michelin Frances - Huh. For "Foundation Head of Thaumiel" objects, he speaks formally, maybe a bit posh, but he isn't god awful!

Dr. Amelia Polynaut - What the fuck is going on with "Foundation Head of Apollyon" objects over here?? Bitch is fucking shattered across time and space, apparently.

Chaos - Agent #080 deployed in Nálægt, Iceland for Site-61 raids. Variant of D-9341. LITERALLY Chaos Incarnate.

Dr. Simon Glass (Wise) - Moral, upright and somewhat skittish. At least his head's in the right place, as is his heart!

Dr. Stelle Shamrock Saraden - A humanoid drone bee! He has trauma to unpack, but first, he has to unpack YOURS! :D

Agent Steve Eastside - of the Eastside channel, probably cool in the head but quick to rage.

Senior Researcher Gemini D. Shirks - or just "Shirks", based off of SCPReadings, though, I suppose I could've also just done Dr. Goods. Either way, very hip! The Researcher all the interns wanna work for since he's just chill like that.

Reseacher James Talloran (Wise) - KILL HIM AG- huh? What. Oh. Oh. Okay. No, no he's fine. Yeah. Uh. 3999's still dead. Thank god for SCP-061-ICE.

Dr. Elias Shaw (Wise) - The Foundation's SCP-963-2.. it worked but.. his mind's being fractured each time he dies.

Dr. Charles Gears (Wise) - Now this is one I haven't actually done. He's monotonous, robotic, downright cold. Anyways, stop observing SCP-914 every waking second of your.. existence? …please?

Dr. Ellis Gill Iceberg (Wise) - Well… at least now he WANTS to be alive… FUCK HE'Z THROWING MOLOTOVS AGAIN

Eve - Yes, as in THE Biblical Eve. She's an MTF Agent now. Who knew she was a bad bitch?

Dr. Agatha Rights (Wise) - Femme fatale… and actually pretty funny. Get past the slut accusations and she's basically an auntie.

Dr. Mary-Ann Walker - Hey! Walker's Aunt— GAH!! WHO'S ALSO SCP-1938-J— MARYNODON'TCLICKTHATKINK GODDAMNIT

Dr. Evans Harper - "You'd better keep your mouth shut, seal yourself lip from lip, else I'll get to cram a mouthful in~!"; loonie. He has flowers growing on him, so pretty, but a loonie.

Agent Convit - STOP FUCKING JACKING OFF IN THE CAFETERIA MAN

General Dravi Kondraki, Junior Researcher Riseo, Dr. Benjamin Kondraki - Are all here too, but I haven't done them yet…

General Patrick Philia - "…ew. Bitch, bitch! DISGUST— DISGUSTING!" (Trust me. No.)

Persons of Interest up for questioning:

Dr. Wondertainment (Wise) - STOP FUCKING TALKING FOR FIVE SECONDS

Liddy Doves, of Doves and Co. Inc. - AND STOP MAKING PRODUCTS THAT MAKE PEOPLE HORNY!!!

Charles Fernando Walker - AND… okay, well, you're fine. You just have to figure out that "Bronze-and-Jade" amulet's SCP-963-3.

SCPs up for questioning:

SCP-999 - The Tickle Monster

SCP-131 - Eyepods

SCP-035 - Possessive Mask

SCP-049 - Plague Doctor

SCP-096 - Shy Guy

SCP-352 - Baba Yaga

SCP-106 - The Old Man

SCP-682 - Hard-to-Destroy Reptile

SCP-079 - Old AI

D-9341 - Respawning Test Subject

SCP-1048 - Builder Bear

THIS LIST IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE. CHECK BACK WHENEVER, THERE WILL BE MORE. :)

[dangerous-disposition]

I'm... So mad at myself for googling that band

The signs were ALL THERE that I was about to stumble into info I didn't want

The band had ZERO BAND INFO on Spotify yet they were a verified artist. They have TWO SINGLES on their Spotify, one released in 2013, the other released this year, and yet they have over 18,000 monthly listeners. The name of the band contains words used in Ascensionism and Euclid, the lyrics SOUND LIKE VESSEL LYRICS but when you FUCKING LOOK AT THE CREDITS IT JUST NAMES THE BAND AS THE WRITER NOT THE NAME OF WHO WROTE IT

THE SIGNS WERE ALL THERE AND I STILL WENT "hurr durr I'm just gonna google this band no way for this to actually ruin anything for me"

[berezina]

He questioned me regarding my knowledge of arithmetic, which was only elementary: and when I saw that I must master it, in order to pursue the higher branch of study, I gave my whole head to the business. In the space of a month, I could cipher like a money-lender, and was ready to receive my master's teaching. My friend Massimo possessed a good collection of instruments for engineering draughtsmanship, and a library of French works on geometry, mathematics, and fortification, both of which he placed at my disposal. Signor Marchiori's lectures, long discussions with Signor Massimo, perusal of Euclid, Archimedes, and the French books, soon plunged me in the lore of points and lines and calculations. I burned with enthusiasm, droll enough to my way of looking at the world, which inspires all students of this science. Yet I did not, like them, regard moral philosophy and humane literature as insignificant frivolities. I bore in mind for what good reasons the Emperor Vespasian dismissed the mathematicians who offered their assistance in the building of his Roman edifices. I knew that innumerable vessels, fabricated on the principles of science, have perished miserably in the tempests; that hundreds of fortresses, built by science, have been destroyed and captured by the same science; that inundations are continually sweeping away the dykes erected by science, to the ruin of thousands of families, and that the inundations themselves are attributable to the admired masterpieces of science bequeathed to us by former generations; that, in spite of science and her creative energy, the buildings she erects are not secured from earthquakes, conflagrations, and the thunderbolt. It remains to be seen whether Professor Toaldo's lightning-conductors will prove effectual against the last of these disasters. Then I reckoned up the blessings and curses which this vaunted science has conferred on humanity, arriving at the conclusion that the harm which she has done infinitely exceeds the good. I shuddered at the hundreds of thousands of human beings ingeniously massacred in war or drowned at sea by her devices; and took more pleasure in consulting my watch, her wise invention, for the dinner-hour than at the hour of keeping an appointment with my lawyer. Without denying the utility of sciences, I stuck resolutely to the opinion that moral philosophy is of more importance to the human race than mechanical inventions, and deplored the pernicious influence of modern Lyceums and Polytechnic schools upon the mind of Europe.

Signor Massimo and I kept house together in a little dwelling on the city walls, facing the sea. The sun, in his daily revolutions, struck this habitation on every side; and there was not an open space of wall or window-sill without its dial, fabricated by my skill, and adorned with appropriate but useless mottoes on the flight of time. A lieutenant named Giovanni Apergi, upright and pious, especially when the gout he had acquired in the world's pleasures made him turn his thoughts to Heaven, gave me friendly lessons in military drill. I soon learned to handle my musket, pike, and ensign; an sweated a shirt daily, fencing with Massimo, who was ferociously expert in that fiendish but gentlemanly art. We also spent some hours together over a great chessboard of his covered with wooden soldiers, which we moved from square to square, forming squadrons, and studying the combinations which enable armies to kill with prodigality and to be killed with parsimony,—fitting ourselves, in short, for manuring cemeteries in the most approved style.

~Count Carlo Gozzi [John Addington Symonds, translator] [read]

[potatoesandsunshine]

tagged by @storybook-souls ty hannah!!!!

last song: Every Body by Thao & The Get Down Stay Down (Big love, come eat me up / Yes we get naked but not naked enough i love you MUSIC!!!!!!)

currently reading: we’re really on a poetry lockdown over here in anna potatoesandsunshine land. I’ve been reading my copy of Collected Sonnets of Edna St. Vincent Millay, special shoutout to “Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare” which is in this book. And Mary Oliver’s Red Bird has a place on my bedside table and will until spring comes at this point, i read a poem or two from it every night. honorable mention to Where are you? which is part of Eleven Versions of the Same Poem; I read it last night and it absolutely ruined me: 

Where are you? 

Do you know that the heart has a dungeon? 

Bring light! Bring light!

currently watching: i’m on a fairly perpetual tlovm rewatch for fic purposes, i’ve been watching way too many bg3 scene compilations on youtube, and tonight i watched that new wes anderson netflix thing, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. i had a great time with that tbh, i loved the sets.

current obsession: so… there’s this ill-advised rarepair that no one asked for…

the outline is sitting at around 2.5k which means this’ll be... somewhere around 4k when it’s done? which is much longer than i thought it would be when i opened the doc. i was planning on like, a quick 1k i could hammer out in a night. it's been two days and i keep getting ideas for more scenes and because this is a Self Indulgence Fic i just keep adding them in. i’ve also been pouring hours into fallout new vegas again <3 new vegas i love you you’re my favorite game of all time <3 now stop having inventory glitches 

i never know who to tag for these ashdjkh so just consider this a blanket invitation for whoever

[ohworm-writes]

#02 - Tape Two | series masterlist

⮞ Beta Reader - @jschllatt​ ! thank you so much for proofreading this for me !

⮞ Pairing - Monster!Technoblade x Monster-Hunter!Reader ⮞ Summary - Bugs are not your favorite things to deal with, especially when it’s 10 times your size and chasing through streets after you. However, maybe a sight in the dark is worth the challenging day.  ⮞ Rating - Mature (SFW) ⮞ Warnings - violence , description of bug monster ( centipede ) , cursing , anxiousness ⮞ Word Count - 3.4k ⮞ Taglist - Open! Send an Ask or DM to be added

@ohworm-writes​​​ copyright 2021 | do not repost

Dead leaves crunch under your feet, and while the sound would have been satisfying in any other scenario, this was not the one. The small, nearly inaudible noise is enough to make you stop dead in your tracks, head poking up from your previously hunched position to look around. If you saw it yourself, it could have reminded you of a meerkat. The animals, as meek as they are, are quite the attraction.

Any sound you’d make would go fairly unappreciated. You see, out here, sound was not exactly one to be a best friend. It was an enemy, if anything. If anyone or anything were to hear you, to hear your location, you could be dead within seconds! Minutes, if you were a lucky one. A single noise, much like a fall leaf turning to pieces underneath your feet, is more than enough to cause fear to course through your veins. 

It’s almost a full minute until you move again. Sixty seconds stood in the same, and quite the uncomfortable, position. However, it’s much better to be safe, rather than sorry. Slowly, quietly, and carefully; you let your body move once more. Careful step after step, one foot in front of the other, simply trying to make it from Point A to Point B. Alive, preferably. 

You had set out more than a few hours ago, maybe… 7 hours or so? Given the position of the sun, which was a little further than its previous position in the center of the sky, it was enough to tell you that noon had gone, and the evening was nearing. Oh, how the time had passed, slowly albeit. Your anxiety and cautiousness never faltered. Never once did you stroll down the street, taking in the sights of what once was.

If you did, however, you’d be able to see the beauty of it. How the trees were full of life, spectacularly green leaves scattered across it by the thousands. How the flowers, some of which had poked through the asphalt of the streets, had bloomed in bright and captivating colors of all shades. How the streets, once filled with nothing but cars and people, had now been taken back by the land. Oh, what a sight it is, and what a sight you were missing out on. 

Even though you had overlooked the beauty of it all, you couldn’t deny that being out here was a breath of fresh air. Quite literally, in that sense. No, but especially because you were out here alone. On one hand, you could see it as another factor for you to be more aware than you already were. There was nobody to watch your back, to yell out if they had seen or heard anything. No, that was all your job now. You were the one to have all say in whether you made it to tomorrow. 

Without those thoughts, though, you could admire it. You had never had a moment to yourself, with it being always ruined by judgmental stares or offhanded comments. Now, you could listen to the beautiful silence that was loneliness. A shame, some could call it, how you’d revel to have moments like these alone. Why be alone when you could be out with friends or, hell, even people! Well, when nobody seems to take your side, though, loneliness is your only friend. It’s the only thing that you know won’t leave. 

Well, it’s the only thing you hope won’t leave, especially not now. 

Though, as they say, speak of the devil, and he will appear.

A clicking noise, much similar to the sound of steps, travels to your era. It’s far, but it’s audible. The crossbow, made at home in your hands, directs towards the sound in a fraction of a second. The way your body moves with such violence, it’s a wonder how you didn’t have whiplash from the movement. Everything around you seems to come to a halt at that moment. Not another sound, not a breath, no movement or sound at all. 

You stand at the corner of a street, tacky green arrows signs in the distance held up by a rusting chain to a stoplight to tell you which street is which. ‘4th Avenue,’ the sign ahead reads, and to its right, in the opposite position, reads ‘12th Avenue.’ On your right, there’s a barbershop, the red, white, and blue cylinder set to a stop out front. The windows are smashed in, shards of glass scattered along the pavement outside, and by the smell coming from inside, you can think that a little more than cutting hair happened there.

You hone your senses in on where the noise had come from, eye to the scope as you point your weapon in the previous sound’s direction. The arrow tip points towards the edge of the building, pointing into the street aside from it. When there’s no more noise, that’s when you panic. The worst thing you could experience out on the field was to hear a quite obvious sound, and then nothing. No indication if the sound had been there at all, or if it was something in your head. If it was there, then where had it gone?

To your luck, or not, the sound finds its place in your ears once more, the clicking sound much closer than the last time you had heard it. It’s almost like the sound a rollercoaster makes as it’s climbing the tracks towards a peak, slowing as it reaches the top. As the coaster reaches the top, there’s that brief sense of both dread and relief. On one hand, because you know what’s coming next. You know that soon, that calm would pass, and you’d dive downward into something you’re not sure if you’re ready to tackle head on. On the other, you know that this is the last of the peace, and you want to relish in every moment that you can.

And just like that, the coaster dives. 

From behind the crumbling brick of the likely once lively barbershop, something peeks to look at you. It’s low at first, whatever it was, maybe a foot off of the ground. But then, then it grows tall. Much taller than you, oh by quite a lot, that is. As it comes around the corner in all of its glory, you can see this plunge is far scarier than you’d expected.

The clicking noise had come from the legs of the monster, the skinny limbs coming by the hundred. The plates, like that of armor, plated across its back, face to and away from you, instead, its vulnerable purplish underside facing towards you. Looking up, the beast towering, you see its head. Large half-moon eyes on either side of its face peering down at you, antennas poking through the top. Large mandibles protrude from the side of its face, serrated teeth fully on display from its wide-open jaw.

That was a goddamn centipede, wasn’t it?

Its body wiggles as it reaches its full height, standing above you at twenty feet or so, its long shadow casting down over you. And then it pounces. The beast leaps towards you, mandibles spread wide as it dives directly towards you. At the same moment, you dash to the side, the trigger pressing down as it sends the arrow flying towards the underside of the monster. It pierces before the monster even touches the ground, a loud screech echoing from it.

It recovers quickly, twisting its head sharply, and you’re already bolting, making a violent turn down the street it just came from. It’s abandoned as you’d hoped, but not for long. With that many legs, it catches up with you quickly. The clicking, the thudding its limbs make as they collide with the ground, is something you won’t ever be able to forget. You dash from one side of the street to the other, taking the moments you have to reload the crossbow. 

It’s a task you’d wished was much easier right now, holding the arrow between your teeth as you pull the string back with one hand, the other shakily holding the weapon. To your luck, it clicks into place, and you spend no time loading it. You look over your shoulder, being met with the quickening pace of the oversized bug as it bounds towards you, a green drool dribbling out from its mouth. Now that it’s on the ground, it’s near impossible to get a worthy shot on it. 

You had looked over the file of the exact creature countless times while at the casino. Sleepless nights left to your own devices were all spent the same; hunched over your rotting desk, reading file after file on different monsters. While the words seem to blend before your eyes, the facts stay perfectly separated from one another. 

These creatures, rightfully referred to as ‘Giant Centipedes’, are a common Euclid,  mid-level monster. They tend to find a home in heavily wooded areas and marshes, few can be found scuttling down the abandoned avenues. Avenues, specifically that is. They’re around 60 feet long on average, longer or shorter depending on their age. They molt, which is a strange and unnerving occurrence that you, thankfully, have never seen yourself. When they molt, they’re most vulnerable, the plates on their back much softer. 

But, to your luck, the one chasing you must have been between molts, its plates at their strongest. The brown and purple-colored plates shine as the sun reflects off of them. However, this was not the time to admire it. Making another sharp turn, you race down another street, your friend in tow. It lets out a high-pitched snarl as sweat beads across your hairline, calm muscles burning at the exertion. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, and your breaths, while even-paced, leave you gasping. 

With the crossbow held tight to your chest, your body at an angle as you sprint, you think about your options. One, fuckin’ hell, you better sprint as your life depends on it. Because it bloody does! Two, however, which is much more of a plan, was to aim for an opening, quite literally. You had to wait for the exact moment where either its underside was exposed, or something else. 

Looking back for a split second, you see it. You see an opening. As you move to aim the crossbow, fast as ever, you do one thing you had been terrified of doing the entire chase.

You trip.

Your body tumbles onto the pavement, with no more grace than a drunken man. You’re still holding onto the weapon, barely at that, but it’s still in your grasp. It hurts like hell, your body colliding with the asphalt, broken glass, and gods know what else. The clicking stops too, and the moment you regain your stability, you realize why. The beast is towering over you, much like before, but now you’re on your ass staring up at it. 

It’s not a pleasant sight, the green liquid dripping from its mouth and mandibles onto the pavement only a few inches away from you. Its body gives a little wiggle, almost giving itself a pat on the back for a chase well done. 

The crossbow, held in your dominant hand, sits to your side. Not because you had given up, ready to accept your demise, but rather because you were looking for an opening to shoot. Bringing the weapon out while the creature drools above you was suicide. You look up at its body, eyes trained for a moment on the arrow you shot at it, which found itself lodged in its middle. An excellent shot, if you say so yourself, especially with the confines of the moment. 

Your eyes trail higher, where its neck started and its body ended, you had no idea. The flesh molds together as one, just a long line of flesh. As you watch it lower its body ever so slightly, almost as if to smell you better, there’s your opening.

You yourself barely even react as you whip the crossbow out with lightning speed, holding it in your grip and aiming upwards. The creature can barely lower its body an inch, a snarl trapped in its throat as the arrow fires, piercing through the easy flesh of its lower jaw and coming up through the head. 

At that moment, all life leaves the beast’s body, its body falling limp above you. You’re barely able to make it to the side as it crashes down upon the place you last were, a dark green ooze dribbling as the wound bleeds out. Your chest heaves as you look at it, your body propped up with one hand as you stare at the dead beast, its lifeless eyes directed towards you. 

 As the coaster car pulls into the station, and all is calm. 

You let your body collapse against the pavement, a soft thud sounding from the action. A dry laugh sounds from your throat, a little noise to tell you that you lived. You let your eyes shut, the warm sun shining down on you as you let yourself relax for the moment. 

All pleasant moments find their close, and you’re back onto your feet. As much as you wanted to melt into the pavement at that moment, falling asleep under the gentle sunlight, you didn’t want to stick around for what other monsters could have heard you. You take only a moment to retrieve both of the arrows, cringing at the grotesque noise it makes as you pull it from the flesh, before heading back on the road. 

Your body is much more sluggish as you walk down the beat-up roads, eyes heavier from your previous antics. Most would feel lucky to be alive after something like that, but smarter people would shrug it off and keep going. Idiots revel at the moment, because as you do, you’re not paying attention, and that’s when the real challenges come for your throat. 

Hours drone on as you make your way down the streets, out of one town and into the next. You couldn’t waste time, especially with the sun falling lower and lower into the sky. Covering ground was the most important thing if you wanted to be back within 8 days’ time, and you did not intend to stay out here even a minute longer than you needed to be. 

Sweat covers your body as the sun beats down on you, the feeling of being not one you enjoy all that much. Your legs burn and add on to the exertion from earlier, you were more than just fatigued. The sky mixes with shades of pinks and purples, small clouds dotted here and there in the sky. It’s beautiful, and you stop dead in your tracks to admire it. 

You’d scold yourself later tonight, half-asleep with emotions roaring, but you take the moment now to watch in awe. As the sun drops lower and lower on the horizon, the colors come in darker shades; you smile. It’s not a fake one like you’re so used to putting on with others around, but it’s one filled with genuine joy. Your mouth falls open partially, a satisfying breeze passing by you, and there’s peace.

As the sun nearly dips fully out of your sight, you decide to call it a night. It was no use going around in the dark, as it would simply and truly be a call for death. So, with drowsiness settling, you make your way to the closest building. The architecture here differs greatly from Las Nevadas and the rural towns you had passed through earlier in the day. While it’s far more urban than anything you’ve passed, tall complexes towering high above you, it’s not a major city. 

The building closest to you is one of the shortest, only a single story to its height. From the burnt-out neon sign on the floor outside, you can tell it was a thrift store in a better life. The windows are, surprisingly, intact. Even with them being covered in dust, as you walk closer, you can see the pristine condition of the building.

Taking it as a safe enough option, you take hold of the dark handle on the door and pull. It takes minimal effort for the door to swing towards you, a smell of mold immediately taking to your senses. You breathe out roughly, pinching your nose as you walk in, closing the door shut behind you.

It’s as much as you’d expect a thrift store to be, which is rightfully not much. Hanger stands with countless dull and colorful items you’d never be caught dead wearing now fill the aisles. Small bookshelves display much more than books, leaving their contents out for you to gaze at. You can almost call the place cozy.

With a quick scope around the place, checking for monsters as well as broken doors and shattered glass, you deem it safe enough to stay in for the night. As if you had much of another option, seeing how all color had gone from the sky and the stars had shown. You set up a makeshift bed in the middle of an aisle towards the front, backpack hung up, and weapons nearby. 

It’s as perfect as it can be, and given the circumstances, you’re more than happy with it. Letting your back fall against the carpeted floor, head dropping against a pillow you had found behind the counter, you let your body sink. It’s surprisingly comfortable, with the rough and tacky carpet and the feather-filled pillow. Yet, it feels like the most comfortable you’ve been in your lifetime. 

As you let your eyes shut slowly, ready to be taken over into the realm of sleep, a soft light emits from the window, disrupting your peace. Your eyes open once more, trained to the ceiling, and you give out a soft huff. Well, if it wasn’t just your luck. Turning your head over, you look towards the dusted window, seeing blows of a bluish-green shade glow from outside.

Your body still lies flat on the floor as you watch the colors mold with one another, several strange blobs glowing from behind the glass. With a sigh, you sit up, all of that previous discomfort coming back to you at full force. You wince at the sharp pain that your back gives as you stand on your feet, muscles tight and sore. 

You grab the hatchet that was clipped to your bag, making your way towards the glass, the colors shining brighter as you near it. It could have been some daylight timer someone had set up in the past, or it could be a monster. Only a foot away, you bring your hand up to the dusted window, shivering. With a single motion downwards, you wipe the glass, ridding it of dust. 

With a row of dust gone, you’re able to look out through the window. It’s confusing when you first look at it, your mind not registering the green and blue figures floating above the street. But then, in a moment of both brilliance and stupidity, you realize. You take no time to hold the weapon at your side, swinging the door wide open as you gaze into the street. 

Gods, was it worth it. 

Glowing fish swim above the street and glide by your face. A green and blue bioluminescent glow radiates off of them, dully lighting up the street. You’re able to see their bodies twisting and their fins swishing if you pay attention close enough. A school of smaller fish comes right by you, moving swiftly by your face and into the sky. 

And, as you watch them float higher, you’re sent into a moment of awe as you gaze into the sky. Whales and fish and sea creatures alike float high up in the sky, moving between the glow of the stars effortlessly. You watch as one of the larger whales floats closer to the ground, tail swishing up and down as it propels itself through the air. Your eyes go wide as you stare, a childlike grin set on your features that even you don’t catch.

It’s… amazing. It’s wonderful in every way you could never imagine by yourself. The glowing creatures in the sky, swimming through its currents, are a sight you’d never been able to see in your lifetime. It’s something a child would squeal with happiness at, something that they, and you, would never forget. 

With a mix of awe, excitement, and delight, you spend your time admiring the creatures above. Wishing, to yourself and whatever gods may have heard you, that you could be like them one day.

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⮞ Technoblade Route Taglist - @cutiebear45 @kiki-is-the-name @hololizard @sunshinebutnotrainbows @valkyrieidunn @dominickle @err0rnan0 @lacunaanonymoused @ura-writes @jaciahbabes @mega-trash-cringe @itsberrydreemurstuff @theharborhooligan @maybeshroom​ @caliginous-skies​ @whalerus​

⮞ Author’s Note - A day late, but in my defense, I have no defense. I know I’ve done a lot of world building, but I do promise things are going to start rolling in Techno’s direction next tape! I really do hope that you did enjoy, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!