#i started this fic probably a year or so ago

[esamastation]

I have an ending planned, yeah. I even have a middle planned - in my head the fic is still at the first third. But anyway.

Into the Abyss started out as 2 different ideas smashed into one. First was older idea of SY donning on plague doctor getup to fight all the sex pollen, that's basically where the bird mask came from. Other was an idea - or rather a grievance - I had while reading another fic. I won't go into the details, it's not important, but it left me with a hankering for a properly monstrous/demonic SY fic. Specifically one where he became monstrous in reaction to equally monstrous environment. So I decided to write one.

That's basically it for the original plot for Into the Abyss - I just wanted to throw SY into the Endless Abyss and have him come out very much changed by it - bonus points if he got to absolutely abuse his PIDW knowledge. Both the world building and the System's antagonism comes from that - for SY to use his knowledge to his advantage the world has to be complex. And for SY to have a need to make use of it, he needs an impetus, a force driving him forward. Therefore, a world that wants to fuck him and a System that wants to kill him.

I'm not sure now if the idea of Endless Abyss being the result of the realms splitting in svsss is canon or fanon, but I really liked the idea of it as this chaotic in-between dimension that's being constantly ground between heaven, human realm and demonic realms, and probably some others. So that's what I went with - a constantly shifting hell dimension full of corrupt creatures and elements that long ago leaked in from the other realms. Festering, stagnating sewer of the other realms, basically.

Svsss has a lot of mentions of magical flora and fauna and svsss fanon loves it's sex pollen, so, lot of that seems like natural thing. I wanted to make things as uncomfortable for SY as possible, hence stuff like the Leaking Flower Meadow. I wanted SY not just badass - I wanted him to be uncanny, messy and feral. No room for his canon sensibilities and wilting flower act - the Endless Abyss takes his modern sensibilities about sex and puts them into a meat grinder.

For the various biomes in the Endless Abyss I took inspiration from games ice played over the years, can't really pin point what came from where. The shimmering atmosphere of the Leaking Flower Meadow came from the movie Annihilation, though. The Hell Frost is basically hailstorm from hell. And so on. Just picking bits and pieces here and there and smashing them together.

After that's it's basically another "put these guys into a Situation and see what happens" fic. Except it's a Lot of Situations. With a few "wouldn't it be cool if he did this" and "What's the reason he would do this" and "if this happened, how would he get out?" thrown into the mix.

I still got plans for Into the Abyss. Most involve scenes I want to see and stuff I want the characters to figure out. Just gotta figure out how to move all the pieces into place for the scenes to play out.

[iinryer]

For the wips I’d love to hear about the failed threesome Fic 👀👀

WAHAHAHA FAILED THREESOME FIC… another one i started literal years ago that i think of often and fondly…

it’s about eddie and [girlfirend] (originally eddie and ana but i think im going to move it up to a just-before-s7 timeline and have it be marisol and eddie) proposition buck for a threesome, but then end up breaking up right before its supposed to happen and buck and eddie slowly become less and less normal about it until it blows up <3

im sure ive shared at least part of this bit before but i like it, so gjfhdhfhf (also continuing my trend of bringing back minor women who i like)

—

“He asked you what?!”

This conversation was a mistake. This friendship was a mistake. His whole life was a mistake.

“It’s not even a big deal—,” Buck tries feebly.

Kameron’s jaw drops cartoonishly before she bursts into near-hysterical laughter, barely managing to get out, “Evan Buckley. You are quite possibly the stupidest motherfucker alive,”

He’s decided that he hates having friends, actually.

He throws the pillow he’s been strangling with white knuckles for the past few minutes at her head, where she sits a few feet away from him on his living room sofa. It half-hits and is half-caught as she wheezes, tears in her eyes, and throws it back at him.

Kameron had come over to his loft for their whenever-we’re-free wine and bitch night and immediately clocked that he had something on his mind. And he did. A very big something. And luckily for Kameron, the nosiest asshole he’s ever met, she’s probably the only person he could imagine telling about it without dying of mortification. She doesn’t bullshit him either, which he thinks he might need right now.

Or, at least, he thought he did, before she started laughing at him.

Buck makes a half-hearted attempt at suffocating himself with the newly returned pillow, groaning into it dramatically.

“God, no— wait,” Kameron gets out, breath hitching as she tries to compose herself around the bubbling giggles, “He— You’re telling me that he invited you to have a threesome?”

“Not in so many words,” Buck whines, muffled into the pillow, “and technically, it was his girlfriend inviting me,” he levers himself back upright, letting his head fall against the back of the sofa, “but yeah. Yeah he did,”

—

ask me about my wips!

[snarkythewoecrow]

WIP Wednesday (even tho it's 2am on Thursday)

Thanks to @the-flaming-nightmare for tagging me, and I do actually have something to share for a change, cuz the ficlet turned into like 4k words by accident, but it's fine, this is buck/tommy, kinda a post-nightmare fic, basically two grown men having a mostly mature conversation about the last trauma of a fucked childhood, including a discussion/reveal of the daniel story to Tommy, and even slightly involves the coma dream, it's a story about existing, and it will be up tomorrow, but for now, enjoy a pretty out of context snippet (ignore typos please, not edited yet)

He reached across the scant distance and caught Evan’s fidgeting hands, steadying them, and stopping him from picking and peeling the skin around his nails.

Evan gave him a watery smile, turning one of his hands so they could link them. 

He rubbed his thumb over Evan’s knuckles. “Who was he?”

Taking a deep breath, then exhaling in a rush, Evan said, “Uh, it was my older brother, Daniel—the one I never knew about until a few years ago. He, uh, he had leukemia. Didn’t make it. I was too young to remember him.”

“Shit, Evan. I’m sorry.”

Evan shrugged. “Yeah, me too—and I mean, that’s the thing, I was supposed to save him—it’s why they had me; they needed a match—and I was, except the graft didn’t take. Talk about being defective from the start, right? Couldn’t even save him.”

One breath, then another, and Tommy forcibly released the tension from his brow, settling his features into something softer. He made sure to watch Evan as he spoke. “First, so much about that is beyond fucked up, and second, you are not, nor have you ever been, defective—you’re not.”

Evan averted his gaze but nodded a moment later. “Finding out at least helped me understand why my parents always seemed to hate even looking at me—guess I was just a shitty reminder of everything they’d lost.” He glanced at Tommy again. “So yeah, I hadn’t even been important enough for a baby box—and if it weren’t for Maddie, I’d probably have nothing. She at least kept some things for me.”

[logansargey]

Hii, I saw your fic and I thought that the name is kinda familiar and I was righttt! I read through your blog and I agree with u esp with the ah l*stappen. For me, I don’t really get the lore of the relationship. And tendency is that they usually drag other drivers to further their uhm visions ✨ but not really in a good way.

I am Carlos girlie so it really makes me sad that usually in the blogs that I encountered, altho not only that ship, Carlos is like always the bad guy or they put him in a bad light? I mean it is RPF and I just avoided them but to push it thru real life too is weird 😭. Like i get that u dont like him but to push that agenda when the guy didn’t even do anything and Carlos has both good relationship with them so yea 😞

So u can imagine my frustration when that clip with Checo and Max went viral 😾. Like Checo and Carlos are close friends in the paddok, they said it in an interview, what are u on about 😭.

Anyway i want to ask ur ahh opinion about charlos and carcar? I think you already answered versainz. Im a big fan of them too!! Well anything with carlos really 😸

Sorry it might be long 😅

Anon, you can ask me any long question and I'll read all of it. Also I love Carlos so I'm so glad I get to talk about him. This is also kinda long but I wanted to give my full opinion. ALSO YES ABOUT THE FIC!! I LOVE FLORENCE AND HOPED I WOULD FIND SOMEONE THAT KNOWS THEM

So here are my opinions on the things you've asked me:

1. Charlos: I seriously love them. But recently they remind me of a divorced couple. (I'm a child of divorce. I'm talking about Charlos btw. Not actually a child of divorce) And it HURTS!!! if you told me a year or two ago that I'd be going through this, I'd laugh in your face. But I love Charlos and the angst, the humor, and the clinginess. They're honestly so cute. They're not my fav (we all know who my fav is) but they definitely made it to my top 7. But also, I feel like Carlos fans and Charles fans have different opinions abt Charlos. Most Carlos fans love it and adore it, while most Charles fans ignore Carlos and seem to make him a bad person and compare the two. (Which driver was the only non rb winner last year?)

2. Carcar: IT'S HONESTLY SO GOOD!! It's such a random ship bc it came out of nowhere and we all started loving it. The jokes that are made (check Oscar's tt comment section) are so funny. It's probably in my top 5 because I love random funny ships like them. I also love the whole "we share a mutual good friend who wants us to get along but we low-key don't think we ever will" type trope. But Carlos has come forward and talked about their "rivalry" or lack of, I should say. So I approve of Carcar

3. Versainz: idk if I have talked about them, but if I have, oh well I'm gonna talk about them again. Versainz is the best ever. I miss them being teammates and the whole "we're both nepo-babies that need to make our dad's proud and we're fighting for the same seat" I WISH Carlos got that seat, tho I'm happy for Checo. Ily, Checo 🫶🏼 Versainz gives me that whole "we're low-key in love with each other but can't act on it bc we both have trauma and internalized homophobia." vibe and I love it lmaoo. THE FICS ARE SO GOOD TOO!!

anyways anon, hope I gave you the answers you were looking for and if you have anymore questions, you can ask and I'll gladly answer.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 758: The senpai's few words

Pag 2

1: Aoyagi-san!!

Pag 3

1: Wha- what happened, Danchiku, you stopped so suddenly

2: Why is he here, in Kyushu!?

What is it, what is it

4: He's probably the person I'd want to see the most right now!!

5: What is it, is there someone in the audience area?

Someone you know? You look so surprised

I wouldn't be so surprised even if someone was there

Pag 4

2: He-hello!! You... you came to... cheer us on!?

3: It's been a while, Danchiku

4: Yes.... yes!!

Thank you so much for coming so far to see us!!

5: You got bigger

Pag 5

2: Thank you so much

3: Uhm, actually

There's something I'd like to talk to you about, is that....

4: Aoyagi-saaaan!!

-okay!?

Pag 6

1: What, for real!?

What, are you really here- amaaazing!!

Oi, Issa, I was....

2: Wait... did you just made Aoyagi-san lose consciousness with your tackle!?

3: Aoyagi-saaan!! Hahahaha!!

You're attacking him when he's already down...!!

4: I'm... o... okay...

No, he keeps pausing while talking!!

Hahaha

5: I'll lead you to our tent!! Carry him, Danchiku!!

'Carry him'....

Pag 7

2: Thank you

2: I wished you had told me you'd come though, Aoyagi!!

You forgot to add “san”, Kabuagi

3: There was something... I wanted to talk to you about but

4: I guess it can't be helped....

(You're ending up yielding again, Danchiku)

5: Ah right

6: Aoyagi-san is

Pag 8

1: A member of last year's team!!

He's the column who supported Sohoku from below last year!!

2: Someone who gained experience through hard work and difficulties and debuted in his third year, ran as a sprinter, pulled the team, and brought back the members so many times

3: Without talking, without refusing, he just did it silently!!

5: Even when he was in a pinch, when he was injured, he moved forward with all his might without ever standing out!!

If he hadn't been there, there's no way Sohoku could have won!!

Pag 9

1: He-he sounds amazing, teh

Right!! I'm really flashy, so his way of running is probably the exact opposite of mine

2: Hearing it again, he really is an amazing person.....

and I also know well what happened with his leg on the third day

4: If I was in the same position and got injured.... would I be able to run the same way?

5: “He'll run away right away”

“He's a chicken”

Pag 10

1: In this Inter High that is about to start

Pag 11

1: Since Aoyagi-san came to see us, I'll smash the starting dash!

There's no need to smash, run calmly

2: Should I get subbed out?

I'm still in time

4: “No one will blame you”

“I can be done in fifteen minutes”

5: I'm at my peak now!!

Save it for the race

6: You're an idiot as usual

I'll forgive everything you say, Aoyagi-san!!

7: What can I do, what......

Nothing....!!

Pag 12

1: The stage event is starting soon

Last year's champions, Sohoku High School, representative of Chiba, please come to the stage

Kakaka, it's our turn!!

2: Teh.... I'm nervous, the

There's gonna be tons of spectators!!

3: Do-do we take a video? I'll do it, Sugimoto-san

I'll leave it to you then. I'll finish up here

4: Su-

Sugimoto-san!!

6: Ao.... yagi-san.....

Pag 13

1: Could you do me one favor?

2: Ah- yes!

Do you want something to eat!! Right away!!

3: The food truck is there... is curry alright?

4: …. no

5: A band-aid!? A nail-clipper!?

Leave it to me, after all I worked a lot behind-the-scene last year

6: Oi, Danchiku, what are you doing. Let's go

8: Ye.... yes

Pag 14

1: Take care of that idiot

Pag 15

3: The Inter High is harsh and long

But he's reckless and can't read the air

5: You, on the other hand

6: You always keep an eye on your surroundings and pay attention to what people say and do

And that means

Pag 16

1: That you can make an accurate judgment of risk in any situation

3: The ability to read small details when you're in a pinch is essential in road racing

4: Earlier in the midst of more than a hundred people in the audience area, you

Pag 17

1: found me at one glance

4: I think you know this too, but he can only look ahead

Please support him, take a step back and, as always

5: be watchful

Pag 18

2: Yessir!! Thank you so much!!

4: “Take a step back”.....!! Taking a step back.... yielding, are my...

5: If this small heart is my ability

Pag 19

2: then I'll be the one running, Issa!!

Together with you!!

At full throttle!!

Pag 20

1: Run, Danchiku

Just like I did last year

2: with Junta

3: I'm sure your feelings will give you strength

These are the members of Sohoku, the Chiba prefecture representative who won the championship last year

Pag 21

1: So far they have won two times in a row

3: What's wrong.... your balloon... shall I get it for you?

Pag 22

2: Thank you, Onii-chan

3: That's surprising, Midosuji-san

You're so kind

4: Puku.... I am kind, though?

To

5: anyone who doesn't wear a number bib, that is!!

[thetomorrowshow]

a stuffed deer

empires superpowers au masterlist (currently out of date)

this story takes place about one year after the end of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: past abuse, religious trauma, referenced past death, deadnaming/misgendering of a character (but the person isn’t really doing it out of mailce, and said character is dead)

~

The closer they get, the more anxious Scott becomes. His hands grip tighter on the steering wheel, he checks his mirrors more often, he glances over at Jimmy every couple of seconds.

This is fine. This is normal, even. He knows what he’s doing. He’s done far more terrifying things than this. He’s nearly died several times, he’s graduated college, he’s been a superhero for years.

He can face his birth parents.

He’s been talking to Nora about it for several months, and he’s come to the conclusion that he needs closure. Not about himself—he fully understands their feelings for him, and made peace with them long ago. No, he’s here for closure on Xornoth.

In the last minutes before their death, Xornoth had declared themself to be Scott’s sibling. As far as he knows, he’d been an only child. If what Xornoth said was true, that puts Scott in charge of any and all of their possessions currently being held by the city. Not that he wants them, but the mayor had asked him to pursue any leads he found on Xornoth’s next of kin and, even though it had taken him an entire year and a half, he finally feels ready to pursue the only one he’s ever had.

Jimmy’s fiddling with the radio next to him, switching between gospel and country. There’s not much else that comes through out here, and they’re going through a dead zone for their data plan, so Jimmy eventually just turns it off and sits back, not-so-subtly watching Scott. Scott resolutely keeps his eyes on the road.

They pass the exit for Milford. If Jimmy’s feeling all right after the visit, maybe they can stop by there, visit the library and community college and homeless shelter.

Half an hour until Briarsville. Scott shifts in his seat, taps the steering wheel lightly.

“What did you think of that motel breakfast?” Jimmy breaks the silence. “I thought it was decent—waffles are always good, at least. But I wouldn’t have touched those sausages with a ten foot pole.”

Scott had only eaten a slice of toast with some watery coffee, too nervous already to have any faith in his stomach. “Not the worst I’ve ever had,” he offers. Jimmy’s just trying to help him relax. He can humor his attempts.

“Well, yeah. I can remember a time when I would’ve killed for a motel breakfast—literally.” Jimmy chuckles nervously, tugs on his seatbelt. “Um—how much longer?”

“Half an hour,” says Scott too quickly. He checks the radio clock, then his rearview mirror. They’re almost there. His heart is really beginning to jump now.

The car is quiet again until they reach exit 42. Briarsville.

Jimmy straightens up, looks between Scott and the town that they’re pulling into. It looks like any run-of-the-mill midwest town, Scott knows. Even the Order of Heaven private school isn’t much of an indicator of anything abnormal.

“We can turn around, you know,” Jimmy says softly. Of course he’d noticed the nerves. Scott’s knuckles have turned white around the wheel, his back is ramrod straight, he’s barely spoken all morning. Jimmy’s not an idiot, and he’s more observant than most people know.

Scott forces himself to relax. “No. I need to do this.”

Jimmy nods and doesn’t argue him any further. That’s something that Scott will always love about Jimmy: he understands. He sees that this is important for Scott and would never try to keep him from it.

And then he’s turning onto Bloomfield Avenue, and he thinks that maybe Jimmy’s right. Maybe he ought to turn back now and cut his losses.

It’s still his last name printed above the door of the house three houses down. The welcome mat is that ugly, waterlogged brown thing that it had been before he’d left. His parents still live here.

Scott pulls into the driveway, then freezes.

“What if we just went home?” he says, voice pitched an octave higher than normal. “We can stop by the country music museum. Or the Appalachian one, I heard it’s—”

“Scott,” interrupts Jimmy. “Normally I would be fine with that, but you just told me you have to do this.” He takes one of Scott’s hands, runs his thumb over his knuckles. “This is important to you. I don’t want you to be kicking yourself for the rest of your life because you got all the way here only to turn back.”

Scott takes in a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out. Then again. Jimmy’s right. Jimmy’s absolutely right. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“And,” Jimmy continues, “if they try to hurt you in any way, I will kill them.”

“You’ve got to stop saying that about everyone we talk to.”

“Hey, I’m just really good at making things look like an accident. Some might even say it’s a superpower.”

“Jimmy.”

“Just saying.”

Scott laughs, kisses his boyfriend on the cheek. He’s ready now. He can go in.

He pulls the key out of the ignition and hops out, then circles round to offer his hand to Jimmy and help him up. Jimmy stops to grab his cane out of the backseat, then gestures encouragingly for Scott to lead the way.

Right. He has to actually go up to the door.

It’s the longest walk of his life, Scott thinks. Even the walk across the stage at graduation hadn’t been this long. But seconds yet seemingly hours later, he’s in front of the door, hand poised to knock.

He swallows, then bites the bullet.

Rat-tat-tat-tat.

It’s only a couple of moments before the door swings open, and his mother is standing before him.

She looks much the same, but changed. Her hair, once grey at the temples, is nearly completely grey with only a few streaks of its former blond. There are a few new lines in her face, only serving to add to the sallowness, the laugh lines he’d once known long-faded. Her hairstyle is the same as ever, her classic Christian mom fashion sense not any different. He takes in all of this, then properly meets her eyes.

“Hello, Mother,” he says, a shiver running up his spine.

She doesn’t say anything at first, eyes passing over Scott to examine Jimmy briefly, sizing him up like a bird of prey. Then she steps aside, pulling the door open wider.

“You’d better come in, hadn’t you,” she says, and the resignation lacing her tone is somehow so much better than the anger he’d expected yet so much worse.

The living room is different. There’s a new couch, pushed up against the wall opposite where it used to be. The easy chair is the same, but also tilted weird and there’s a coffee table for some reason when all it does is take up space. But Scott keeps his complaints to himself and steadies Jimmy as he lowers himself onto the couch, propping his cane up against the coffee table, then sits beside him.

His mother looks at the two of them with something unreadable in her expression, before leaving the room. She returns moments later with two glasses of water.

It’s a test, and Scott doesn’t know if she’s set it up like this or if he set it up for himself, but he takes the water from her hand and sends a little burst of freezing air to chill it, eyes trained on hers the entire time. She doesn’t react.

Jimmy takes his water with a muttered thank you, then she sits down in the easy chair across from them, crossing one leg over the other as she waits for Scott to break the silence.

He takes a sip of his now-cool water (Jimmy passes his own over and Scott forms some of the water into an ice cube before handing it back), takes a deep breath, and speaks.

“Is Dad home? Because—”

“He’s dead,” his mother interrupts. Scott blinks.

Two for two, his mind unhelpfully supplies. 

Is he supposed to mourn an unloved parent? Is he supposed to mourn someone he used to care very deeply about, but proved that they didn’t care for him?

He���s not sure how to feel.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jimmy says beside him. “That must be terrible.”

“How long?” is all Scott can manage.

“Nearly two years, now,” she replies. “Heart attack while at work.” She clicks her tongue. “I was always telling him to lay off the salt, stop working so hard. Guess he suffered the consequences.”

Scott’s really not sure how to feel. The last memory of his birth father he has is of his face closing off, declaring himself to have no son, and banishing Scott from the house. Would he have liked to reconcile? Is parting easier with his last words being unforgivable?

“I’m so sorry, Mrs—”

“Heidi,” his mother corrects Jimmy, and Jimmy amends his words.

“I’m so sorry, Heidi. I can only imagine the pain.”

That’s the first thing to incite emotion in Scott, because Jimmy can’t only imagine that sort of pain. Jimmy’s lived through the death of loved ones without a house to live in afterwards or a community to support him. Jimmy’s had it worse off. Jimmy shouldn’t have to be placating his terrible excuse for a mother.

He must be getting tense, because Jimmy’s hand runs comfortingly along his knee, and Scott can almost feel the love and support that Jimmy imbues the touch with.

Heidi’s eyes follow the movement, and after a moment, she says gruffly, “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Right. This could go very badly.

“Mother, this is Jimmy, my boyfriend,” Scott says stiffly, before adding, “as in, romantic partner. We kiss. Each other.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “Are you a gay now, then?”

Scott stares her down. “And if I am?” he challenges. “What are you going to do, kick me out again?”

She stares back for a long moment, a moment during which Scott’s certain she is going to kick them out—then she chuckles, shakes her head.

“You always were a bit sassy,” she says. “I ought to have known, really. But that can be said for a lot of things.”

“Speaking of things that ought to have been known. . . .” Jimmy hints, nudging at Scott. Scott nods, takes a deep breath, and forces out the question that’s been on his mind for so long.

“Did I . . . did you have any children before me?”

Heidi looks away suddenly, toward the TV. Her expression gives away absolutely nothing. “I thought that was Noah,” she says eventually. “His voice was already starting to change when he left.”

“Sorry—Noah?”

She looks back at him. “Your brother. He was fourteen when we noticed he was one of them. You were so young, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

Right, because it’s such a normal thing to destroy every trace of your child’s existence and raise the other to believe he never had a sibling.

But that means—

“I’ve seen the two of you on the news,” his mother continues. “Your father, too. He regretted what he did, Scott, after he saw how good your heart was.”

“So he just wanted to send me to conversion therapy instead, huh,” Scott mutters. “And that’s so much better.”

Heidi sighs. “We did what we thought we had to do, for both of you. We always hoped you would repent and come back.”

Scott wants to scream. He wants to scream and yell and freeze the entire house, because that may be the most insensitive thing he’s ever heard and his own mother is supposed to love him unconditionally, not act like this!

His hands are shaking. He doesn’t even notice until Jimmy eases the glass from his grip and rubs his arm. He needs to calm down.

But he can’t bear to look at the woman’s face for a moment longer.

“I think we’ll be going,” Scott says icily, moving to stand. Heidi stands as well, taking their glasses, then pauses on her way back to the kitchen.

“We donated your things,” she says, “but not all of it. Do you want any of what’s left?”

And as much as Scott wants to get out of here, he knows he needs to see whatever it is his mother decided to keep. So, after an encouraging squeeze from Jimmy, Scott follows her into the attic.

There’s only two things in the attic—two small trash bags, leaning against a wall to the side. With a nod from Heidi, Scott opens one of them up.

His monogrammed bible is on top. He has no interest in that. His Boy Scout pins and kerchief are here as well, more stuff he doesn’t care about. His birth certificate, which he does set aside (he already has a copy of it that he’d requested from the government, but it can never hurt to have the original), and a small photo album, which he sets aside as well. At the very bottom of the bag is his plush turtle, scruffy and old.

That he pulls to his chest, burying his nose into it. It smells pretty musty, which makes sense. It probably hasn’t been out of this attic in a decade.

It brings back feelings, looking at it. Not memories, not exactly, but feelings of a simpler time. Feelings from some vague past, where he had no troubles and his only concern was getting to school on time.

And more feelings. Feelings of deception, of hate, of guilt. The feeling of his world being flipped upside down and this plushie not being near enough to anchor it.

He wants to set it with his birth certificate and the photos, but it holds so much of this place that he’s not so sure.

He sets the turtle to the side and looks in the other bag.

Much the same stuff, and at first he inexplicably thinks this is an exact replica for some odd reason—but the name monogrammed onto this bible is not his.

Scott weighs it in his hands for a moment, then sets that aside.

There’s no photo album, but the same boy scout items and a birth certificate. There’s a plushie here too, though, a floppy deer, one of the antlers torn off and the hole it left carefully sewn shut. The fur is wearing thin in places, the beads for eyes have lost their shine.

It’s well-loved, as loved as Scott’s turtle, and for some reason, that makes him want to cry.

He’s not sure what to do with it. He still hasn’t really processed what his mother confirmed downstairs.

This stuffed deer belonged to the sibling he never met.

This stuffed deer belonged to Xornoth.

Can he take it?

Does he want to take it?

He sets it aside next to his turtle. At the bottom of the bag, there’s one last thing—a photograph, bent at the corner.

It’s older than any in the photo album, and Scott knows instantly that the child in the photo isn’t him. It’s a small child with a mop of dark blond hair, maybe three years old, wearing little red overalls and a white sweater, sitting on a push-bike and smiling up at the camera.

He can’t quite force his brain to make the connection. This child, so happy and young, grew up to be Xornoth. This toddler tried to take over the world.

He can process it later, he supposes, and he upends one of the bags to make sure there’s nothing else (there isn’t, so few of what once were his possessions leftover), then stuffs both his turtle and the deer in it, along with his birth certificate. He hikes the bag over his shoulder and picks up the photo of—of the child—and the photo album, before holding both out to his mother.

“Do you want any of these?” he asks brusquely. She takes the loose photo, then waves off the album.

“I’ve kept some of yours downstairs,” she says dismissively. “This is my only picture of Noah, though.”

Scott leaves the attic without another word, photo album chucked into the bag over his shoulder. He meets back up with Jimmy in the living room, who looks up from his phone with a questioning glance.

Scott sets down the bag, pulls out the turtle plushie. “This was mine growing up,” he says. Jimmy’s face immediately softens and he coos, reaching out for it. Scott hands it over, then removes the second stuffed animal.

This one he holds farther from Jimmy, because he’s still not sure if he wants to take it with him, despite the strange sense that he owes it to his lost sibling. “This,” he says carefully, “belonged to Xornoth.”

Jimmy’s face goes carefully neutral, and his hands still. “Oh,” he manages, and Scott can hear the change in his exhales as he immediately kicks into breathing exercises.

“We don’t have to take it if you aren’t okay with that,” Scott is quick to reassure. “We can leave it here, that’s fine. I’m sure my mother would appreciate it.”

“Why—why do you want it?”

That’s harder to answer, because Scott hasn’t figured out why yet. He’ll know when he comes across the answer, he’s certain, but it hasn’t made itself known to him in the five minutes that he’s known of his sibling’s existence.

“I don’t know,” he says eventually. He stares at the deer, at the faded pattern of its coat. “There’s some reason I want it, but I’m not sure what that is, yet.”

A little color has already returned to Jimmy’s face, and he doesn’t stutter when he speaks. “Is it part of your closure?”

He doesn’t know how, but Jimmy’s right. He nods. This is, in some way and fashion, a very important part of making peace with his sibling’s identity in his head.

“Then take it,” says Jimmy, handing back the turtle. He stands, slowly, supporting himself with his cane.

But it’ll hurt you, Scott wants to say. It’s clear that Jimmy doesn’t like the idea of taking this deer plushie home, doesn’t like the idea of it being in their house.

“Don’t worry about me, yeah?” Jimmy says, as if he can hear Scott’s thoughts. He smiles weakly, squeezes Scott’s arm. “I’ll be fine. This is about you.”

They leave with a quick goodbye, no attempts on either side to set up further contact. Scott just throws his things into the backseat with Jimmy’s cane, then drives away.

-

It’s just a week later when Scott drives out of the city to a park.

It’s a quiet park, just some trails and benches through the trees, and Scott stops at one of these trees and digs with the shovel he’d brought from home.

He digs alone, in the quiet shade of the trees, a light breeze rustling through them. And when he’s finished the job, a small pile of dirt beside him, he lays a shoebox containing a small stuffed deer in the little hole he’s dug.

He scrapes the dirt back over it with his shovel, pats it down a bit, and stands there. Just . . . stares.

Then, silently, Scott turns away and heads home.

[poetrylesbian]

Just started Teen Wolf. Your thoughts on Derek/Stiles. Go.

confession i have read so much sterek fanfiction in the last decade that it's probably the genre of writing ive read most in my entire life (including poetry!)... it's what i read when i need to turn off my brain (which is often)

a few years ago i started bookmarking all the fics ive read with a tag system, so here is what my sterek bookmarks look like when i exclude ones i haven't read yet

[fagidarity]

my stream of consciousness way of writing some things works in mysterious ways. i’ve accidentally introduced sdvau mumbo finding out what asexuality is as a plot point

[punk-pitcher]

I like the hedgehogs that go fast <3

It's been around 5-6 years since I was last involved with the Sonic fandom, and I kind of want to get back into it. I miss this

[skitskatdacat63]

I looked forward in a fic I'm reading bcs the authors note was like "it feels bittersweet to finish this fic off" and the last chapter is titled "a year later" I DONT WANNNAAAAAAA STOP WHAT HAPPENS THAT REQUIRES A YEAR LATER UPDATE

[knightzp]

finally on winter break yayyyyyyy

[weirdfishy]

headcanon/AU where morpheus only went and visited hob bc hob dreamed of him — like death convinced him to go see him, but he didn’t know when he should go, and the longer he stewed the more he thought hob was probably done with him. but then hob unknowingly drew morpheus into his dream where they were talking and laughing like proper friends (or, alternatively, hob had morpheus pressed against a wall) so dream was like yay he doesn’t hate me let’s go visit him :)

[miabrown007]

a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take

[theinfinitedivides]

Jim getting choked by Pathaan's thicc ass thighs. Jim choking Pathaan albeit not with his thighs. there are so many ways that this could go but i need the rest of you to know that in this instance it is unfortunately not going where you think it is

[ihaventsleptinweekz]

Sometimes I think I'm a normal person then the 11 pm thought kicks in and suddenly I'm insane

[cerealmonster15]

My working doc names for things are so impossible lol. Like this was an adeuce fic but I clicked thinking it was jamiazu

I thought these two were the same thing and they’re NOT!!! I’ve just been haunted by cater and Leona on more than one occasion and then tried to forget (I did not truly forget. But also kind of. There’s actually way more in here than I thought LOL I didn’t actually write fics off the second two but there’s a LOT of planning)