#i will stop making neon highlights the day i die

[veveisveryuncool]

wawasplosion (it is national off-day for all dees)

[amethystunarmed]

It Can't Be Undone Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,795 Chapter 1 Ao3 Link Detailed CW on AO3

When he realized what the Lords were asking Steph to do, Peter hadn't thought it was much of a choice. If it was him or Steph, it wasn't going to be Steph. And part of it made sense, didn't it? He and Richie and Ruth were a unit. Ted called them pack animals, and stopped bothering to ask if they were coming over when he picked up Peter from school. They were inseparable.

So doesn't it make sense he would follow them here, too?

As he waits there, on his knees, breath illuminated by the stadium lights, he wonders if one of the Lords in Black will wear him, the next time they're summoned. 

Probably the yellow bastard.

“I’m ready,” he tells Steph, even though he isn’t. 

The gun goes off and Peter doesn't die and for a moment, Peter feels disappointed. Then Max Jägerman is breaking his fucking arm and he doesn't have time to feel anything.

~~~

All in all, Max was having a pretty good day. He was pounding nerds to his heart's content, had Steph and her pet dweeb cowering at his mercy, and Grace Chasity finally realized just what she was missing out on. Which is why he is more than a little peeved when another fucking ghost shows up.

“Shitlips?” Max snarls, “ How you fuck did you get here? And what the fuck are you wearing?” Max woke up in the clothes he died in, but clearly Richie isn't bound by the same restriction. He's got green hair instead of blue and is wearing the $5 crown from last year's prom, but Max is 90% sure it's him.

“What did you just-” Shitlips hisses, then he stops and looks down at himself. “Oh. Will you look at that? I forgot what I was wearing.” He giggles, a wheezy, hitching laugh that Max has never heard from him before. A chill goes down Max's spine, and he feels uneasy in a way he hasn't since he woke up beside his dismembered corpse.

He thought originally that Shitlips was wearing one of his dorky cartoon outfits, the ones Max has pummeled him for wearing every Halloween since the 3rd grade, but looking at him, that seems less and less likely. He's pretty sure even Shitlips wouldn't shell out for contacts that made his eyes glow. That even with all those lame dances he's practiced in the cafeteria, he can't make his fingers bend like that .

“Shitlips?” He asks again, this time much more confused. What the fuck is happening?

“Actually, this is perfect,” the Lipschitz copy says with a grin, like Max hadn't spoken. “I can't imagine a better way to illustrate my point, Maxiepoo. You've been running around making quite the claims, haven't you? You said you were a god...” He pouts, and pats Max's head. “You don't know the meaning of the word.”

Max wrenches away from the touch. “I don't know what's gotten into you, but I beat your ass once, and I'll do it again!”

Max goes to punch him, but something grabs his hand. Fucking Flemwad , with gaudy glasses and long, highlighted hair, is holding him back. She has one hand clamped around his wrist, so tight his bones grind together. Max can feel bruises blooming under her hold. She giggles as he yanks against her hold. He had been able to easily throw her around the theater, like a toddler with a ragdoll. Now it feels like he's in the grip of a marble statue.

“What the fuck?” He moves to grab her with his other hand, but another hand clamps tight around him. Mayor Lauter isn't even looking at him, instead he is examining his fingernails.

Two more hands clamp around his ankles, and Max looks down to see the woman from the limo and the nerdy prude from the Waylon place, in blinding pink and neon yellow. They smile up at him with raucous, toothy grins. Their fingers burn where they touch him, so cold his skin cracks with neurotic black burns. Max thrashes, but he can feel their touch burrowing deep inside him, digging into the core of what he is now. 

He knows, instinctively, in a way that took the place of breathing, that there is a well of power in him. It keeps him moving, grows with every nerd he guts, propels him like a shark. It is everything he is.

And he can feel these... Monsters draining it.

“W-what are you?”

Richie Lipschitz grins with bright, manic eyes. He takes Max's chin between his fingers and forces Max to look at him. “Look at what you did to us, Maxie!”

Blood soaks Richie's front, turning the green sweater a dark red. Richie reaches down and tries to rub it away, but green fur sprouts on his skin from wherever the blood touches. Richie opens his mouth, screaming like he had when Max had first descended upon him, only water floods from his mouth. It keeps opening, wider and wider, until there is a crack and tentacles pour forth, thousands of them, squirming and writhing and lapping at Max's face and arms. 

He tries to lean away, but the tentacles push him to face Ruth Fleming. A spotlight illuminates her as the bottom half of her torso separates, where Max tore her in half. He remembers how her intestines fell out and he had laughed as they painted the stage. Now, eyes gush from the cavern in her abdomen, purple irises all locked on Max. They blink at him, blood and viscera eyelids his only reprieve from their stares.

There is a metal thunk, and Max turns to see a shovel embedded in Mayor Lauter's skull. With his free hand, he reaches up and tugs the tool loose. With a musical tinkling, shimmering blue shards fall from the wound and Max can see an endless black abyss inside of his head. Max can tell, intrinsically, that he is looking into the vastness of space, and that there are no stars, there are no planets, that he is entirely, singularly, alone. The two halves of Mayor Lauter’s face smile at him. Blue ooze swells up from the wound like crude oil from a well, and it dribbles down his front.

There is a wet splat, and warm, thick liquid splashes up Max's shin. A heavy weight rests against his shoe, and even before he looks down, Max knows the red headed woman's head is going to be staring blankly up at him. What he doesn't expect is the endless rows of serrated teeth lining the esophagus of her headless body. It leans forward and gnaws at his leg. Thick, viscous drool drips down his leg and even at a distance, Max can smell its breath reeking of rotten meat.

There is a sharp pain in his left foot. The man from the Waylon Place slams his head against Max's foot over and over, the same way Max had slammed his head into the rotting floorboards. His skull shattered the same way then, too. Only, instead of lying there, limp and gelatinous, the wet mess of flesh and brain sits up. It reaches a hand up to peel bits of skull away, like it is peeling a hard boiled egg, to reveal the bloody yellow head of a goat. It bleats at Max.

“W-what the actual fuck,” Max gasps.

The creatures laugh at him, wet and braying and metallic.

“Surely a god would understand,” the mass of tentacles coos. Bright, spotlight eyes illuminate Max, coating him in slimy green light.

The thing that never was Richie just smiles.

“You're in my world now, bitch!”

~~~

Peter takes a moment to gaze in amazement at where Max had been torn through a hole in reality. He turns to her, unable to keep the awe off his face.

“Holy shit, Grace! That was amazing!" She had saved his life. Was he indebted to Grace Chasity? Fuck, was he going to have to go to church with her now? He has no idea how he is going to explain that to Ted.

Grace looks up at him with a brilliant smile. Her shirt is still half untucked and there's grass in her mussed hair. Her lips are red and swollen and she looks the most relaxed Peter has ever seen her.

“My dad's dead,” she says brightly, and promptly bursts into tears.

“Oh shit,” Peter says frantically looking between her and Steph. Steph mouths “Do something!” at him while aggressively gesturing to Grace. Slowly, Peter reaches out and pats Grace's shoulder. “There, there...?” He trails off looking to Steph for approval. She facepalms.

She walks over to Grace, and sighs. “I still think you're fucking weird,” she says, but holds her arms open, “So this is a one time offer.”

Grace looks up from where she has her face pressed into hands. She blinks blearily at Steph, tears still cascading down her face. Then she staggers forward, falling into Steph's arms. Steph shakes with the force of Grace's sobs, tightening her hold on Grace as she screams into her chest. And then, almost impossibly, tears begin to trail down the lines of Steph's face. Slowly, first, then full hiccuping sobs. The two of them sink to the ground, fully weeping into each other's arms.

Peter doesn't know what to do, even more at a loss with two girls crying rather than just one. He swallows. Tears feel so far away. Everything feels so far away. He doesn't know how to comfort them or get them to stop or if he even should.

He kneels down, and places a hand on both their shoulders. He doesn't know what else to do.

He doesn’t know how long they sit there. Eventually, Grace and Steph catch their breath, panting and heaving under Peter’s arms, but they at least aren’t crying any longer. Peter waits for them to say something. They have planned every step of this excursion so far, and he is perfectly fine with being dragged along. But Steph and Grace don’t say anything. They just lean against each other. 

It’s cold. None of them had time to grab coats and the temperature has plummeted with the setting of the sun. Peter can feel the girls shivering. So he says it. 

“What do we do now?”

“I... I don't know. I don't even have anyone to call.” Steph says. “Miss Tessburger was my emergency contact if something ever happened to my dad, and...” Peter remembers the flare of red hair and the arc of blood that flew across the air. He swallows, fighting nausea at the memory of her severed throat.

Grace shakes her head as well. “I...” She stares blankly at her lap. She seems aimless, drifting aimlessly through the conversation. “I can't see my mom right now.”

So Peter ends up texting Ted. Peter doesn’t necessarily think this is the correct choice. His brother has been blowing up his phone all evening, with both texts and actual, honest to god voicemails. He is sure his message of “At the high school football field, please come get me” is not necessarily well received, given the way his phone immediately lights up with Ted’s face. Peter silences the call, and sends a thumbs up emoji when Ted texts “ill be ther in ten dont fuckin move”, and doesn’t really consider the implications of Ted showing up until his baby blue Stuedbaker pulls into the parking lot.

“PETER LORENZO SPANKOFFSKI!” Peter can hear Ted's screaming through the closed car windows. His brother steps out of the car, hands on his hips, keys jingling where they dangle in his hands. “Of all the times you decide to break curfew, it's when there's a fucking serial killer on the loose? And you couldn't even text me? I had to hear from Paul of all people that you nearly got arrested, at Beanie's of all places. You absolute noodle, I am going to-”

“Ted, it wasn't like that. We were just-”

“We?”

Peter can see the moment Ted realizes who is standing next to him. The anger drains from his face, and is replaced with a wide, smug grin. Oh no.

“Holy shit, are you out here with two girls ?” Jesus Christ. Peter is going to commit fratricide. 

“We weren't-”

“If you were otherwise occupied, you could have just said-”

“Ted, cut it out!”

“You were letting me fucking pace at home while you were out here getting it on with-”

“Ted, shut up !” Peter shouts, ignoring the way his voice cracks, shoving his arms down stiff at his sides with balled fists. His injured wrist screams at the movement, and he whimpers, clutching it back close to his chest. 

The others shout his name. Grace and Steph both come to his shoulders, looking over him. Ted about sprints to his side.

“What the hell happened, are you hurt?”

Ted looks at them, really looks at them. Peter knows they're a mess. Their clothes are torn from the shattered car windshield. Grace is still disheveled, with grass stains on her back and hickeys across her neck. Stephanie has eyeliner running down her cheeks and cuts on her face and arms from where they were running through the woods. Peter is drenched in sweat with dirt up and down his arms from digging up the black book. His wrist is swelling where Max grabbed it and Peter can already see the yellowing lines where his fingers dug into his skin.

“What the fuck happened to you, Pete?” 

“Please can we just go home?” Ted still looks hesitant and it almost breaks something in Peter. He just wants tonight to be over. “Please Teddy,” he begs. His voice cracks again and it's fucking embarrassing but he just wants to go home. 

Ted runs a hand through his hair but doesn't argue. “Yeah buddy, of course.” He wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulder, patting it once. “Let's go home.” Ted looks over Steph and Grace with awkward concern. “Do you, uh, need me to call your parents?”

“My dad's dead.”

“Mine too.”

Ted's eyes widen. “Oh. Um, I'm sorry. Are you sisters?”

“No.”

Ted's eyes get impossibly wider. “Okay then.”

~~~

The car ride home is awkward. No one speaks. Ted tries to turn on the radio, but Dan and Donna start reading out an APB for Grace and Peter slams his hand on the knob so hard he thinks he cracks it. Ted shoots Peter a flabbergasted look, but Peter just closes his eyes and leans his head back. If Ted ends up taking them to the police station, Peter at least wants a nap first. 

But when the car rolls to a stop, they’re in front of Ted’s dated ranch house. The sight of it almost brings Peter to tears. 

“Well, we’re here,” Ted says, as he puts the car into park. “Not exactly how I imagined Peter bringing a girl home.” The joke lands a pancake flipped onto the floor. “Okay, tough crowd. Come on, let’s get you all inside.”

They walk inside the front door, and Peter is immediately struck by the fact he and Ted haven’t cleaned in awhile. The sink is full of dishes, and an array of ties hang over the back of the couch from Ted yanking them off the moment he gets home. Crumbs cover the counters and Peter can’t remember the last time one of them vacuumed. Ruth and Richie were used to mess, so Peter hadn’t even thought... 

He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Steph, Grace, do you want to shower?” He suggests, desperate to have a moment to at least shove shit in a closet, “You can borrow some clothes.”

“That sounds really nice, actually,” Steph says, with a gratitude Peter isn’t sure he’s actually earned. Grace nods as well.

“Sure, do you have a swimsuit I can borrow?”

Peter balks at the question. “Um, I have trunks?”

She sighs, looking so despondent, Peter actually feels bad he can’t summon a bikini out of thin air. “I guess it doesn’t matter much now. That’ll work.”

Peter grabs a pair of swim trunks that are a little small on him, and sleep clothes for the two of them. He walks Grace to his shower, and shows Steph to Ted’s master. Once the door closes behind him, he collapses against the wall. The striped wallpaper is cool against his cheek, and he trails his fingers against the slick surface as he catches his breath.

This is fine. This is all fine. He is just having a sleepover. That is a normal high school thing to do. Nevermind the fact it is with Stephanie Lauter and Grace fucking Chasity, never mind that he’s never had a sleepover with anyone who wasn’t Ruth or Richie-

Peter slams the brakes on that thought. If he starts to think about them, or worse, their doppelgängers, he thinks he may completely lose it.

He walks back to the kitchen and finds Ted pulling a mug out of the microwave. “Oh, perfect timing!” He offers the mug to Peter. “I, uh, I made you a hot chocolate? I figured... your blood sugar.”

It's a good point. Peter hasn't thought about it all night, but he's pretty sure adrenaline is the only reason he hasn't fainted yet. But he hadn't mentioned that to Ted. His brother just... did it.

“Thanks,” Peter squeaks out. That damn lump is back in his throat.

The mug is warm. It feels nice in his hands. His fingers shake as he brings it to his lips. 

It’s fucking terrible. It's lukewarm, and not mixed properly so clumps of the mix coat Peter's tongue. But Ted made it for him. Tears well up in Peter's eyes and Ted begins panicking. 

“Oh Jesus, is it really that bad? Sorry, sorry, I swear I followed the instructions. We could go to- fuck, they're closed. Everything’s closed, shit. Oh!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I'll call Paul, he's been smiling lately so I'm pretty sure that barista is staying over, we can get her to-

Despite himself, Peter giggles. “You cannot just call Paul at 3 AM to use his girlfriend.”

“She already hates me, there's no harm, really.” And the thing is, Peter really thinks he means it. That he would call his coworker at ass o'clock at night just to figure out how to make hot chocolate.

A sob bubbles up his throat. He sets the mug down and he throws himself at Ted. He nearly knocks him over. He's taller than Ted now, even if he's lankier. It feels wrong still, uncanny; a reflection in the mirror he doesn't recognize yet. But Ted's arms are still tight around him, still hold him as he shakes. He rubs circles across Peter's back.

“What the fuck happened, Pete?” he whispers. For a moment, Peter almost tells him everything. The Waylon Place, cutting up Max's body, the blood he can still feel under his fingernails. The Black Book, the blinding power that welled inside him, the gods wearing the faces of the dead.

But then he remembers the god in yellow, the way Mr. Chasity's face had licked his lips as he said Peter's last name.

He can see it, suddenly, with perfect clarity, like the image was beamed into his brain. Ted, with vibrant yellow hair and square pupils, holding that glowing yellow box. He can hear his brother's voice making that terrible bleating laugh. He can practically hear Tinky's voice. Isn't this a good look for Teddy Bear? Don't be jealous, I'll be sure you match!

Vomit wells in Peter's throat. No. He won't tell Ted. He'll keep his brother as far away from that bastard as possible.

Instead, he tells a half truth. “We fought the murderer. The person who killed Ruth and Richie.”

Ted sucks in a sharp breath. Despair, terror, and fury wage on his face. He takes a few deep breaths, and Peter can tell he is trying not to yell. Peter curls in on himself. 

“He... He tried to kill you?” Ted asks, and Peter nods. Ted hisses another pained breath. “Okay. Alright.” His voice breaks.

Peter... Peter can't remember the last time he saw his brother cry. There's a fuzzy memory in his head, of his fat toddler fingers patting Ted's wet cheeks, but it feels more like a dream than a memory.

But for as long as Peter can really remember, Ted never really cried when he got upset. He got mad, he yelled, but he didn't cry.

So Peter doesn't know how to react when tears well in his eyes

“Why didn't you call me?”

“I... I didn't want to get you involved.”

Ted glares at him, and jams his finger into Peter’s chest. “Fuck that. If it affects you, I'm involved, okay? So enough of these disappearing acts, of you just going completely radio silent. You want me to, what? Just stay awake all hours of the night wondering if you’re dead? Wait to get a call from the fucking coroner?”

Peter feels his eyes beginning to well with tears as well. “Of course not.”

“Then fucking call me, okay?” Ted shoves his shoulder, then ruffles Peter’s hair. “If shit is happening to you, I want to know about it. Okay?”

Not trusting his voice, Peter nods.

“Good.” Ted takes a drink of his hot chocolate. He promptly spits it back out. “Fuck that's terrible, what the fuck?”

Peter is still laughing when Grace and Steph get back from their showers.

~~~

Peter may not have thought the sleeping arrangements through. The three of them stand in a half circle around Peter's bed. Grace swims in a borrowed Hatchetfield high spirit week shirt and Steph has rolled up the ankles on sweatpants Peter stole from Ted.

“I... I can sleep on the floor?” Peter offers. His full bed should have more than enough room for Steph and Grace with him out of the equation.

“Peter, you are hiding us from the police, we are not going to kick you out of your bed,” Steph tells him. She grabs a pillow, and Peter realizes his sheets are nearly ten years old and have constellations on them. He is incredibly aware of the fact they are going to start glowing the second he hits the lights. He can feel himself blushing.

“I can go and sleep on the couch-” 

Peter's stomach twists at the thought of her being out of his sight. Before he can even say anything, Grace speaks up.

“I think we can all fit.”

Peter feels his jaw drop, but he can’t help it. “Um...” He stammers, “You know that this is gonna be really uh, tight, right?” Peter knows his bed can fit three people, he, Ruth, and Richie have absolutely fallen asleep watching movies in it. But usually they have to pile on top of each other like puppies, curled up in a tangle of limbs. He can’t imagine Grace Chasity of all people being comfortable with the thought.

But to his immense surprise, she just nods, and then crawls into the bed. Peter turns to Stephanie, because clearly Grace has been replaced with a body double. Steph just shrugs and crawls in after her. And well, Peter really doesn’t want to sleep on the floor. He hits the lights, ignores Steph’s delighted laugh at his childhood bed linens, and joins them.

He was right, it’s a tight fit. He is pressed tightly against Steph’s side, and still feels like he is going to fall off the bed. Steph opens her arm, and Peter gladly takes the invitation. He rests his head on her chest. She is warm and soft and smells like Ted’s vanilla body wash, and for the first time since they were called into the principal’s office, something in Peter unknots. He lets himself sink into her, curling closer when she wraps her arm around him. He involuntarily sighs, content and comfortable, and Steph rewards him by running her fingers through his hair. It promptly turns off all the thoughts in his head. “Holy shit,” he whispers, without really thinking.

“Like that?” Steph asks, and he can hear the smug smile in her voice, but he still nods all the same.

“Fuck yeah...” 

Part of him still expects Grace to kick up a fuss and tell them to leave room for Jesus or whatever the fuck she usually goes on about. But she is suspiciously silent. Peter is pretty sure he would be worried about it if Steph’s fingers weren't sapping up all of his brain power.

“Um, Grace, are you good?” Steph asks, and her fingers slow. Peter barely holds back a whine at the loss. “You are... pretty stiff.”

“Perfectly fine,” Grace says, sounding like she is having her fingernails ripped out. Steph sighs, sounding exasperated.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can make a pillow wall or something-”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” She doesn’t elaborate at first, staying quiet long enough that Steph begins playing with Peter’s hair again. He is nearly asleep when Grace says, “That just looks... really nice. That’s all.”

“Grace...” Steph says slowly, “Do you want to... cuddle?”

“Of course not! The wall is just digging into my back is all, and I figured, it would be an easier fit, if we were to get closer. Nothing untoward or anything.”

“Uh huh,” Steph says, breathing slowly, measured in a way that Peter has realized means she is holding back laughter. “That makes sense to me.”

“Right. So. Maybe, I could...” Grace doesn’t finish. Maybe she can’t. Peter feels Steph shift, offering her other side to Grace.

“Well? Get the fuck over here.”

Grace moves so quickly she almost headbutts Peter. “This is just for convenience, I hope that you know that.”

“Obviously,” Peter slurs, already slipping back toward sleep. 

“Of course, Grace,” Steph agrees, “Now get some sleep.”

Peter doesn’t need much more encouragement after the night they’ve had. Steph and Grace’s breathing is a soothing lullaby, only a shade different from the sounds of his usual sleepovers, and he easily slips into a doze. It takes a while, longer than it normally would, for the shaking to rouse him. He blinks blearily, trying to figure out just want the fuck is happening, when he registers the sniffling. It is muffled, like someone has clamped a hand over their mouth, but it is clearly crying.

Peter initially assumes it’s Steph with the way she is shaking, but her voice is clear when she asks “Grace, what’s wrong?” 

Grace doesn’t answer at first, can’t get past the tears. Peter and Steph don’t interrupt, they just wait until she says, “I had sex with Max,” and cries harder.

Steph doesn't seem to know what to say. After a moment, she asks, “And how do you feel about that?”

“It was... Good. It was really, really good. I liked it.” Grace sounds absolutely disgusted with herself. “This whole time, I have been trying to avoid these feelings and... I had sex. And it was great.” She clutches the pillow closer to her chest and sobs.

“Grace, I'm not following.”

“Don't you get it? I came up with the plan to get back at Max. I got us into the Waylon place. I killed Max. And he killed Richie and Ruth and...” She sniffles. Snot drips from her nose, and Peter grabs her a tissue from his nightstand. “And I could have... Just had sex with him and enjoyed it and maybe dated him and we could have protested homecoming together and now he's gone and none of it even matters because I gave up my virginity and we met five gods tonight and I don’t think any of them were Jesus.” She pauses for a moment, breaths heaving from the word vomit she just spewed. Then she lies back and stares at the ceiling. “My whole life has been pointless.”

“I can't say I get it,” Steph says, slowly. “Not in the same way. But like... My whole life has been dictated by my dad. Even when I went out and did what I wanted, it was stick it to him, you know? Prove he didn’t own me. And he was always calling me or having Miss Tessburger come and pick me up or... And now he's...” She swallows. “So what I'm trying to say is, I get what it is like to feel directionless.”

Peter thinks about his own life. About the absences in the room, about how his group thermodynamics project is now his sole responsibility, about the seats next to him that will be empty in every class.

“Maybe,” he says slowly, “we can find the point together.”

[raven-crank]

Raven: Tales From The Outer God- The Day The Universe Stood Still

Clang, boom, crash. Shhhhiiiinngg. A low druuuuuuunnnn rings out as a Quasar Star collapses. A super massive black hole is formed. So much energy rang out, it stopped both divines in their tracks. Aaella looks up as a star she never made blows up, the black hole rapidly forming an accretion disk, she's bleeding from a gash on her side, her kimono torn. The blood boiling in the vacuum of space. "Tch… Nora why are you mad that I don't want you messing with and making stars." Aaellas body slightly warps as Nora uses photons to create a new light based dagger in her left hand. On Nora's right hand a hatchet drips blood, it's warped and dismantled by Nora's concept.

She was bleeding from her left eye. The cut starts a few inches under her hairline, ends around 2 inches away from her upper lip, some blood splattered on her black and blue highlighted hair. It mixes, forming a pretty shade of mauve. The deep, primal laceration looks like it was made by claws. She notices the 9 tailed fox concept of light known as Aaella Seraphim heals using the photons swirling around the accretion disk.

Nora belts out in a rebellious and dignified tone, there are also twinges of brattyness in her tone. "We both manipulate particles of some variety. I have perfect control of radiation and photons alike. My body is also warping right now because of your asinine use of light. I should be able to use my power however I want you tyrant."

Aaella turns into light appearing from the light reflecting on Nora's skin. Aaella pops out slashing Nora's abdomen. She cries out in pain, grabbing the fox by the head, freezing her instantly with absolute zero.

Aaella creates motion within her body, the alpha radiation causing her to heat up. The absolute zero warps as Nora gets weaker due to the use of radiation.

Aaella starts an incantation and a magic circle appears behind Nora. A giant star with the gravitational binding energy of a black hole crashes into Nora. Aaella softly but confidently says "you will die if you don't stop this foolish fight. You're being a bitch for no reason, stop using fucking light and radiation."

Nora yelling in pain, her jacket melts. Parts of her jacket burn her back creating 3rd degree burns.

"I will not stop using my power you inconsiderate bitch" Nora belts out as she grabs Aaella by the back pulling her towards her burning body. Nora starts to stab Aaella with the photon blade.

As soon as the tip of the blade connects with Aaellas spine time stops. Neró, accompanied by the god Emilio, intercepts them mid-fight.

The flame of Raven swirling around inside the small crystal on his chest. The purple glow radiates, passing through the time stop putting fear in their hearts. Emilios own crystal is visible. The waves of causality are violently swirling and slashing inside the neon section of the crystal.

"My dear son, will you unfreeze time? I need to talk to my daughters." Emilio says livid they're fighting again.

Nero nods, he unfreezes spacetime. "There you go father. May I make a suggestion?"

"Yes my child" Emilio says kindly but livid. He uses causality to delete the effect of the giant star, it evaporates instantly to such a degree all Quasar stars blow up from the sheer pressure of the waves of causality. Forming our modern universal model.

Nero looks at space pausing. He then looks up at Emilio, "Change Nora's power and Aaellas power. Maybe one controls alpha radiation and photons, the other controls beta radiation and other wavelengths." He says logically.

"I agree, does that sound good to you girls?" Emilio says.

He watches as their wounds slowly heal leaving scars. Nora scoffs and grits her teeth. Aaella nods, not making a sound.

"If we must" Nora says like a brat. Her hatchet disappears flowing back into her body, the warping of Nora's body also slows.

Aaellas spell book fades back into photons, it travels to the black hole circling with the accretion disk.

Emilio grabs raven's crystal, a neon green mixed with purple warps the entire universe. The fundamental concepts of matter and photons change.

Millions of years later.

Aaella and Nora are relaxing with their vuxu at a bar together.

"I'm glad we fixed our relationship sister." Nora says intoxicated…

Emilio smiles as he watches from the waves of causality.

"Hey Raven look. The girls are close now, they are only siblings in name only. At any point they could have been enemies, they could have spelled the destruction of the entire universe with their clash. I'm proud of them. Of course we wouldn't have let that happen, of course."

Raven nods and says "we still need to get Eos to be careful with her use of Gamma Ray Bursts, that's a different discussion for a different day though."

The end~

[mukuberry]

yeahhhh she’s still trying to look for yuki, but as you can tell it’s not gonna be anytime soon.

also something I’d want to highlight in her…. Well, my ocgram mostly focus on trauma, soooo I’d probably want to highlight denial or dreaming of better things (yk bc of her trauma)

Positive Parade!! "Press the dreams you want to fulfill close to your chest. Give everything you want to do a shot. "We can't stop" is this a good feeling? Or is it no good after all?"

"Let's talk and dance with the stars on a night that doesn't end. Even when times are tough, the light is always by our sides. "We can't stop" You'll be alright, and you'll end up smiling beautifully"

Dream Dream: "I think a lot happened, but right now I can't remember them anymore. After so many yesterdays, when we finally arrive at the future, with "goodbye" in our hearts, we will find yet another unfamiliar door."

"Please remain a dream no matter who the dreamer is. When I met you, I smiled, cried, became stronger, and felt helpless, but you granted me as many dreams as I wished."

Undead Alice: "It's ok to live for yourself, it's ok to cheat a little, it's ok to break it, it's ok to be scared. Let's bury this cowardly love here, let's stop and forget all this. It's better to hate since it's easier that way, but when it comes to love, the heavier the better, don't you think?"

"I thought we would be able to keep dreaming together, just like this, but what did your smiling face look like again? It's an illusion to think everything will go back to how it was after saying bye bye."

Please Show Me: "There weren't supposed to be any what-ifs, but no matter when I look, people's fake smiles are so good. It's like words sew up people's gaps. Take care not to sweep away the things in your way."

"Difficult days will continue, but I hope that things will go well this time. That's never, never gonna happen. I've finished it once already. You mean you've forgotten? If you're strangling yourself by persevering in your own way, then stop, and come to my side."

Neo-neon: "e.g. we have a sense of justice that we can't compromise, e.g. if the person who apologises is the bad one, I will make myself the devil and say "I'm sorry" a million times if it makes you smile from the heart"

"e.g. if we give eachother scars that don't heal, e.g. if we can laugh about it in the future, we can just say it doesn't hurt and laugh about it. Is it selfish to make it into my favourite shape and love it?"

Pseudo-hope Syndrome: "Hey, let's get out of here, let's end it already. It's because you torture youself. I finally understood the pain when we held each other, and it makes me not want to know myself."

"It's okay to shed some tears if you wish to, and if it eases the pain, let's dilute today with tears. How many times do I have to repeat this? Oh, I was so naive."

Zombies: "Oh well! If we transform we transform! "I want to die, I want to die" but wait, you're already dead. But "I miss you, I miss you" won't disappear. Pain, pain, doesn't go away, tell me why, tell me why, only loneliness remains"

"I'm transforming, I love you, half-decomposed isn't bad. Why don't you too? I love you, a secret between you and me. If we just both transform, I love you, it's ok since we'll never die. If we just love each other, I love you, you're the only one"

Rainbowder: "1: follow 2: run away, options spinning around and around. It's ok that way, isn't it? I'm ok no matter how much you ignore me, but saying "you're too much..." is not ok. Because I already know it without you having to tell me that much."

"I feel so at ease with the tears you shed, if I say "you may stay here," it will become an excuse. Come on, don't just stand there! Let's fly! At a quick pace! As the 'rainbowder' rides on the multicolored tears, we are aiming for our very own rainbow!"

Heart's Homing Instinct: "The more often things seem about to be ruined, the more the chance for happiness also increases. I really don't want to become unwanted, but I still find myself hoping for it: that we can bear the painful times equally"

"If sometimes things leave me about to cry, "I see, that's a part of love, isn't it?" is what I'll think. So sometimes I'd like you to make me cry. Wishing for something like that, I'm probably an idiot for thinking it."

Nocturnal Kids: "Shouldn't we look forward and laugh now? "I'm not lonely or sad" when you've rinsed off the deep blue of those bluffs you've caked on, we'll say goodbye. Thank you to this foolish world, don't go searching for us."

"Should we make what lies ahead get excited? I want to sleep but I won't- today is still alright. We'll love each other over and over again, shining all the while. This indelible awfulness isn't the ideal, but such an euphoric shyness is perfectly alright. I want to keep saving you."

[tylia-plus-leon]

On the Way

As much as Tylia hated the sun and how her pale skin practically shone like a neon highlighter every time she stepped outside, she was grateful that it wasn’t raining. Trekking through the plant-ridden highways in pouring rain and getting all wet was not ideal. A couple of days ago, Tylia and Leon had taken a walk to the train station, all the while surveying the roads for any useable vehicles. When they couldn’t find anything useful, they weren’t surprised in the slightest, it had been approximately a few hundred years so they weren’t expecting much. 

“I guess we’ll just have to walk,” Leon said, jumping onto the hood of a broken car. Tylia looked at him in disbelief, her face scrunched up in utter disgust as if she’d just smelled rotten eggs. 

“Walk? Like to the mall? Like on foot? TO THE MALL?” Tylia gasped dramatically. Leon simply stared at her with a deadpan expression on his feline face. “Okay, you’ve known me since I was 12 and you’ve been with me on every hiking trip and watched me literally die.” 

“The fact that you’re standing here in front of me moving your mouth proves otherwise.” 

“You know what I meant, Leon!” 

“I do but I pretend not to. You have the pack, right? Let’s get going.” Leon hops off the car and begins the walk, following the highway. 

“You were planning this all along! That’s why you had me pack the bag this morning!” Tylia yells, stomping her foot on the ground as she realizes she just got played by her cat. 

“I’m glad you didn’t lose all your brain function, now hurry up or I’ll leave you behind. Who knows where you’ll end up with your horrendous sense of direction if you’re not with me.” Leon said. Tylia huffed angrily in defeat as she followed the ginger cat down the highway, following fractured road signs to the main city. After a few days of tripping over roots and resting on uncomfortable rocks, The pair finally make it into the main city. The central hub and busiest area back when there were still people around. 

“We finally made it!” Tylia smiled in relief as she fell to her knees. She sat on the soft greenery, happy to have finally made it and be able to rest. Leon, on the other hand, didn’t look as happy as his owner. “What’s wrong Leon?” Tylia asked. 

“The sun’s going to set soon and we shouldn’t be out in the open at night, it’s dangerous. Get up. We need to look for shelter.” The urgency was evident in Leon’s voice as he nudged Tylia to get up. 

“But I just got to sit down…” 

“Tylia. Now.” 

Tylia groaned but pushed herself to her feet and began to walk further into the city, looking for any buildings secure enough to get through the night. Leon ran ahead, scouting out the area to look for a safe path through the cracked roads and splintered pavement. Soon they reached the remains of what used to be a clothes shop. Although the outside was completely covered with an array of plants, the inside seemed relatively safe. The windows and doors were still intact, albeit a little bit damaged but overall the place seemed like a good place to stop and rest. 

“Let’s stop here for the night.” Leon whispered, curling up on a pile of clothes and resting his head on his paws. 

“Leon?” Tylia called out to him quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

“What’s out there at night?” 

“Monsters.”

[elias-code]

The Feeling’s Mutual - c!Techno x Reader

PT 1 because I‘m taking too long lmao

Characters: c!Technoblade x gn!Reader, Philza, Quackity, Charlie S

Summary: [from an ask] The reader is kicked out by Quackity from Las Nevadas and was forced to roam around to look for somewhere to live and they end up in Techno’s cabin after passing out in the tundra. At first, you have a shared hatred of each other, but you end up warming up when you figure out he’s been making you breakfast.

Warnings: Exile, mild malnutrition, corruption

————————— Enjoy :3 —————————

“Ooh! I get to go visit you now! Like a vacation!” Charlie cheered.

“No, Charlie,” You sighed, continuing to follow him out of the city, “I’m getting exiled. I don’t think Quackity will let you visit me,”

He frowned, confused. He wasn’t the best at understanding broad concepts like exile and all the drama that brought it about. He just thinks you’re one of his best friends, and that Quackity is also his best friend. Now, Quackity was in no way your friend as you once were. He banished you for the dumbest thing, just because you challenged his integrity. Unbeknownst to Charlie, Quackity was giving away trade secrets, rigging elections and his casinos. You didn’t join him to scam people, you just wanted a new start after L’Manburg.

You walked with him in silence past the bright neon lights and street lamps of Los Nevadas. You were never going to be allowed back here, even though you built half of the damn place.

“So if Quackity doesn’t let me visit, can you visit me?” Charlie asked solemnly.

“Again, probably not,” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and half-smiled at him, “I don’t think he wants to see me back here. Ever,”

Where were you even going to go? No one would take you. Quackity had made many enemies, who were, in turn, yours, and now no one you were allied with alongside Quackity will be friendly except for Charlie. But Charlie was his lapdog, nothing could touch him and you weren’t going to be allowed around him anymore.

Your enemies list was vast, all the way up at the top, finally overtaking Technoblade, was Quackity. Congrats, Big Q, you piece of shit.

Charlie stopped at the end of the road, finally realizing this might be the last time you see each other. He wanted to cry, but he held it back. There’d always be hope, he could sneak out, you could sneak in. But you’d have to do it all in secret, and it just didn’t feel right to him.

“I’m gonna miss you, Charlie,” You said.

He smiled weakly at you and pulled you in for a slimy hug.

“We’ll see each other again someday,” He stated.

You wanted to believe that, but the pit in your stomach just sank further as the embrace came to an end. You’d have to get going, this would be the last time you see him, or Los Nevadas for that matter, in a long time at least.

-

You spent days wandering. Just as you suspected, no one would take you in. Not even Niki because of your governmental associations. You found the occasional scrap of meat or stale bread in some chests along the prime path, but you felt so sick to your stomach that it became hard to eat anything you found.

From the desert to the ocean to the plains to the tundra you roamed. You hunted with what little supplies you had.

There had been no food for days now, the snow was the only source of water within sight. There were no signs of life, no people, no animals, only the occasional dying tree to sleep under in the blistering cold. As if things couldn’t get any worse, the blizzard came.

Blinding white all around. The only sound audible was the whistling of the wind in the frozen, rotting branches above you. At this point, you’d gone numb, the only thing you could feel was your heart beating heavily in your chest as you lost consciousness.

-

“We couldn’t just leave them out in the snow, Techno! That’s just cruel!”

“They’re with Quackity, Phil. Don’t make me explain this again,”

“I’m not going to let you throw them back out,” Phil explained, “No one would willingly come here, Technoblade. They have a reason, I know it,”

You opened your eyes cautiously. It was warm, you were covered in a thick red cape and a few blankets, the fire next to you was roaring. Whatever argument was taking place had moved further into the distance, out of earshot.

Everything ached, but at least you were warm. You let yourself come to your senses. Maybe the exile was all a nightmare. Maybe Quackity wasn’t a dumb bitch after all. But where were you? Whose bed was this? Whose-

It’s Technoblade’s cape.

Your eyes widened as you shot up out of bed. The pain in your legs was sickening, but so was being in this man’s house. You ran to the fireplace and grabbed some sharp steel tongs, meant for poking at the logs, for protection. His footsteps moved closer, the conversation was over.

You brandished your weapon and prayed for dear life.

The door creaked open and he stepped through, shutting it behind him. He stared at you, looking down at the weapon and then back at the tossed bed. He looked unfazed by your threatening pose. You were more scared than he was.

“I lend you my cape,” Technoblade points at the bed, “And you decide the best move for you is to stab me?”

Guilt crept into your throat.

“What am I doing here?” You hissed at him.

“Phil found you under a tree,” He chuckled, “And decided he wanted to adopt someone else,”

“Aren’t you supposed to kill me or something?”

“Why? Should I?” He threatened, taking a step towards you.

You stepped back, bumping into the table behind you, “That- That’s what you do,”

“If it were up to me, you’d probably be buried in the snow by now.”

You scowled at him, rediscovering past hatred towards him and using that to fuel your rage.

“I’d rather be left out there,” You spat, “Not stuck in here with you-“

“Again, I agree, but Phil is the one you should be angry with if you don’t want to be here,” He rolled his eyes and held his hand out.

“I’m not giving this back to you,” You growled.

He stepped forward and snatched the spear out of your hand, tossing it behind him, out of reach. He leaned forward and hissed in your face, “Don’t try anything, kid,”

You swallowed your pride, weak and unarmed. Whether you liked it or not, you’d have to stay with him for a while. No one would take you in, so it was either deal with Technoblade or die. You might as well use this to your advantage.

-

Days went by where you never even saw Techno. Phil took care of you most of the time, but he didn’t have any room in his house with Wilbur being there and all, so you were forced to sleep in Techno’s cabin. It became easier and more manageable as time went on. The only time you ever really saw him were the latest hours of the night when he’d come home and, if you were lucky, at dawn when he left.

Breakfast usually materialized at your doorstep every morning around the same time. Sometimes it was yoghurt, sometimes fresh fruit, sometimes cold meat and oatmeal, but it was always delicious. You suspected Phil was behind the mysterious meals, that was until you asked him about it.

“I don’t think I ever said, but thanks for breakfast,” You smiled at Phil as you helped him load firewood into the horse’s saddlebags.

He looked at you, perplexed, to say the least.

“What breakfast? Don’t you just eat whatever Techno has?” Phil replied.

Your stomach turned, letting the past couple of weeks turn over in your head. You shouldn’t have assumed Phil was the one making your food. You should’ve asked before you just started gorging yourself every morning.

Phil watched as you turned pale and hopped on the horse. He thought that you just ate whatever Techno had in his pantries, and never questioned it. Now, all was revealed. Techno had been making you breakfast.

For most people living as a guest in someone else's house, having breakfast brought to their door would just be seen as a sweet thing, but it was dangerously blown out of proportions when it was your ex greatest enemy doing it without you even knowing. You silently reasoned with yourself that if he was going to poison you, you’d be dead already. That comforting fact backfired as you realised he could have killed you so easily. Your emotions were on a rollercoaster, and your stomach sank deeper and deeper as the more intrusive thoughts crept in.

You needed to catch him in the act. Something about The Blood God making you breakfast created sentiments of self-worth out of thin air. Part of you wanted to prove it to yourself, and part of you wanted to embarrass him for it.

-

The familiar shine of daybreak made the room glow orange. The fire had gone out that night, as it usually did, but the cold felt like nothing now that you had a mission to accomplish.

You slipped out of bed, clad in leggings and a simple green shirt. The floor was icy on your bare feet but you trodded out the door and down the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

The dining room was salmon-pink, highlighted by the bright orange flickering coming from the fireplace. It was already warmer down here than it was upstairs, the fire must’ve already been on for a while by now. The kitchen was out of view, but you could already smell fish frying from the base of the stairs.

Making your way through the archway, you spotted Techno’s red cape on its hook by the door next to the thick winter coat you loaned from Phil. Below them, both were black boots, sprinkled with half-melted snow. The floorboard below you creaked when you stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Techno spun around, startled by the noise. His face flushed with guilt temporarily but was quickly replaced by a furrowed brow and confused eyes.

“What are you doing awake? It’s five,” He implored.

“I could smell the salmon,” You shrugged and moved towards him innocently.

He turned back to the fish and turned the stove off, sliding it onto a plate.

“What’re we eating today?”

“You just said,”

You scoffed and conceded. It was a dumb thing to ask, but he wasn’t supposed to answer. It was only meant to highlight the reality that you knew what he’d been doing. Nothing in his expression, now unreadable, made you think he didn’t know that you knew he’d been making you breakfast.

He gently pushed by you, letting his arm brush against yours. It made your heart skip a beat, probably out of fear, you told yourself. Your skin went cold, but you followed him into the next room where he put the dish on the table and gestured for you to sit.

“You don’t seem to hate me anymore,” You mumbled.

“I never said I hated you, just that I don’t like you,”

“Well, you don’t seem to not like me either,”

He blinked at you and sat across the table from you.

“Where are you going today?” You said with a mouthful of food, “To do mysterious things, I imagine,”

“I was going to stay here today, actually.”

You stopped eating.

“I finished my mysterious duties,” He mocked.

Well, he wasn’t going to budge on where he’d been going the past few nights, but that wasn’t particularly important right now. What caught your attention was that he was staying here for the day. Again, meaningless to most people, but with him, it was surprising.

He began snickering, just at your face.

“I was never the one that hated you,” He laughed, “You were the one who brandished that poker at me,”

Your face flushed red with embarrassment, “I can be resourceful, at least,”

He continued to laugh at you, the absurdity of the situation hitting him with full force. Right now you wished you could hit him with full force.

“Alright, alright,” He took a deep breath, “I do have some questions for you,”

You looked up at him, annoyance plastered on your face.

“Shoot,”

“Why are you here instead of Las Nevadas?”

“Because Quackity kicked me out, and-“

“How did you know I made you breakfast?” He cut you off.

“I asked Phil, but-“

“Why did Quackity kick you out?”

“I asked him too many questions, just-“

“Do you still hold any loyalty to him?”

“No, but-“

“Questionnaire over, thank you for participating,” He stood up and excused himself from the table, heading back to the kitchen.

-

Techno never left again after that. He stuck around and made an effort to make you annoyed and uncomfortable every chance he could get. It was becoming a sort of game with him, and you were more than happy to play along. It made it easier to get along with him in general. There’d be no more dreading seeing him, no more awkwardness surrounding your avoidance.

Now, you had other things to be awkward about. If you passed each other a bit too close in a doorway, when you tripped over a rug in the living room, the fact that you were sleeping in his bed, the abrupt flirtatious nature of the man you were now sharing a room with.

You never really thought about it, but before he moved back into his room onto a makeshift bed, he’d been sleeping on the couch. He’d wake you early in the morning when he’d get up to make breakfast, and whenever he did leave to run errands, he’d wake you late at night when he came home.

One morning, around eight, he woke you purposefully.

“Get dressed, I want to show you something,” he whispered, gently shaking you.

You groggily complied and eventually found your way to the front door where he was waiting for you.

“No breakfast?” You asked.

“Breakfast after,” He said, opening the door.

He was dressed in his usual clothes, but he carried a large satchel with him. Inside were different scraps of leftover meat and some bones. He didn’t tell you what for, but you were too tired to ask anyway.

You followed him through the fresh snow, crunching under your feet. It was drowned out by mindless conversation that you both kept up to stay awake. He brought you to a distant hill in a clearing, where a cliffside was awaiting. The conversation stopped as he told you to wait, and he went over to the wall and pressed a rock into the stone.

You could faintly hear the sound of pistons firing before the rock slid down slotted into the floor.

The sound of dogs barking filled the forest as hundreds of dogs and puppies spilt out of the entrance. Most of them went running to Techno, who was now holding the bag aloft, out of reach from the dogs. Some of them ran to you, their tails wagging happily at their new potential playmate.

“Pretty cool, huh?” He shouted.

“Holy-“ You stopped and pet the large, black dog that jumped on you, “Where’d you get so many dogs?”

“Long story,” He began to throw chunks of meat into the writhing pile of hounds, who were now obsessively sniffing you.

“I do this three times a week,” he said as he made his way over to you, “It’d get done a lot faster if you could help now that you’re living here full-time,”

“Wait,” You looked at him blankly, “Full-time?”

“That’s the idea,”

You thought for a moment, “Where am I going to sleep?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said, handing you some chunks of meat to throw.

By the time Techno’s bag was empty, it was almost noon. He shephered them back into the cavern and shut the door behind them. They were very well trained, when he commanded them all to sit once they got inside, there was no hesitation. The puppies were confused at first, but they followed along with the pack flawlessly.

Leaving the clearing, you talked with him freely about your plans for the future at the cabin. It didn’t mean you’d live there forever, knowing Techno, he might end up being hunted out of the tundra eventually. But for now, you were sticking with him.

It was strsnge to think that you were once mortal enemies, staring each other down on the battlefield with nothing but rage coursing through your veins. Now, you were cheerily chatting about what it would be like to settle down together. Between the two of you, mutual feelings of respect and redemption. The distrust was long since buried.

[abbatoirablaze]

Enter Sandman

Word Count:  681

Warnings:  none

“When I watch you in my arms, when I watch you,” the song droned on in the empty diner.  My head felt slightly heavy as the once popular song from the 1950’s song continued on.  The lighthearted melody and the silky-smooth voices lulled me even further into the exhaustion I’d been feeling over the course of the week, “I need you so.  That I could die.  I love you so.  And that is why.  Whenever I want to is dream, dream dream dream, dreammmmmmm…”

My head felt heavier, and I sighed, looking at the door.  It was a regular summer day.  The sun was out, and outside the windows, the town seemed to bustle with an excited energy of the incoming carnival.  But when I blinked it felt like time sped past me.  No longer was it bright and sunny outside, with the world passing me by. 

It was dark outside.  Too dark almost.  And while I could see, the moon wasn’t visible, giving off an eerie purplish glow inside the diner, which was only offset by the red from the neon signs behind me.

I shot up.

“Shit!” I cursed. 

But I wasn’t alone in the diner.  I noticed a man, all too quiet, sitting in one of the far booths.  His eyes were held in front of me, highlighted by a singular strip of light, a sliver of color making his steely eyes feel like they were piercing my very soul.  In front of him sat a delicate white mug of coffee.  The steam was barely able to be seen in the darkness that seemed to surround him.  I pushed myself away from the counter and looked at the setup.  A fresh pot was on.  I looked back to him, “I-I’m sorry sir…I-“

But my words stopped coming from my lips.  I watched him, and he stared back at me.  Those expressive steely eyes saying everything I felt like he wanted to say without so much as an utterance from his thin lips.  

My heart raced as I started towards him, grabbing a menu, “I-I’m sorry.  I-I must have dozed off there…di-did you need to look over the menu?”

His eyes flickered up towards mine after a short look at his coffee, and it sent shiver down my spine.  He sat completely still, like he was studying me.  And I stood in the center of the diner, just staring back. A feeling rose up in the pit of my stomach.  A nervousness that I should somehow recognize the man in the booth.

“D-do I know you?”

“I would suppose that you do,” he replied.  I held my breath.  His lips barely moved and yet, it sent like another chill ran down my spine, “do I look familiar to you?”

I nodded, a meek ‘yes’ passing through my lips.  His own thin ones turned into a simple smile, and he nodded.  Some of his coiffed hair fell against his forehead, and my mouth parted, a silent gasp escaping my lips. 

There was something so dark about him.  So…intriguing.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I wanted to step forward and explore it.  I wanted to explore him. 

But when I went to take a step forward, he was gone.  I dropped the menu.  The glistening plastic cover making the smallest of noises as it hit the floor.  I turned around, and it was like someone flicked a light switch. 

“Dream dream, dreammmmm!” the voices continued to sing. 

I shuddered. 

The music continued on as the daylight pressed through the large windows.  But I was still alone.  The mystery man was no longer there.  My body felt achy as I stood in the center of the diner, staring at the booth where the mystery man had been. 

But his white cup was there still; the steam still filing out of the mug, the coffee untouched.  I picked the menu up off the floor and went over to the table.  Beneath the cup was a napkin, a delicate font written out: 

I’ll see you in your dreams, sweet siren.

[fandom-blackhole]

blind date and poorly timed confession with Rex x reader?

Ngl it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to do with this one, but I like how it turned out so I hope you do too

46. Blind Date

60. Poorly Timed Confession 

Captain Rex x Reader

When Fives, Jesses, and Echo all came walking over to him after a briefing, each with a grin and a bounce in their step, Rex knew immediately that something was up. So with grinning faces, and Fives in the middle with his I've done something you are going to disagree with Captain shit eating grin, Rex immediately prepared himself for whatever his men had done this time, and preparing for the headache that inevitably was going to form behind his temples.

Rex waited until they were all stopped, forming a small semi-circle around him, before he immediately cut in, not letting Fives who was opening his mouth to speak get even a sound out. "What have you all done this time?"

It was Jesse that replied first, chuckling and saying, "Why d you always assume the worst of us, Captain?"

Rex only gave him a side eye before looking down at his data pad and saying, "I don't know, why is it always you three in the middle of of whatever chaos happens when the 501st is on Coruscant?"

This time it was Fives, with a faked gasp and a hand held to his chestplate, still with that damned grin on his face, "Captain I am hurt, and to think we did something nice for you."

That got Rex's attention, his head whipping up to look at each of them with a glare, "What. Did. You. Do."

"Honestly, Captain, we didn't do anything bad this time," Echo's somewhat sincere voice spoke up, "We just know you work too hard and never take any real breaks for yourself, so we thought we'd do something nice."

"Which is?"

Fives, excitedly interrupted his twin as he was opening his mouth to speak, which resulted in a glare from Echo and a wider grin from Jesse. "We step you up on a blind date!"

Rex took a second a second, staring blankly at the three of them before tiredly saying, "You did what?"

Jesse reached out and laid a hand on Rex's shoulder, and with a smile still on his face, but with a bit of a more serious tone said, "We got you a blind date. Captain you work too hard, relax and go have some fun. Hell turn it into a one-night stand for all we care, just take the night off."

This time it was Jesse on the receiving end of Echo's glare as he spoke up and said, "we all know the Captain isn't going to have a one-night stand with this date."

Fives laughed, and turned to his twin with a smirk, "No, but he definitely might be fuck buddies with them."

Echo, sighed loudly, and elbowed his brother in the side hard, and ignored Five's yelp of pain and turned back to Rex, saying, "The date is tonight at that diner you like, and don't worry about cleaning up or trying to look nice, you can take my word for it when I say they won't care." Then Echo was pulling the other two away, and Rex caught Fives complaining about his side and 'why did you have to do it so hard?'

The rest of the day, Rex was trying to think of reasons or excuses for why he shouldn't go to the 'date' and with each passing hour each excuse just became more and more flimsy. So by the time he filled out his last report for the day, Rex sighed heavily and stood, the only thought running through his head was, well I can't let the poor soul sit there all night, especially after dealing with Fives, Jesse, and Echo.

That didn't mean that Rex didn't drag his feet on the way to the diner though. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend one of his few nights off, but at this point he was too deep to back off. What was he even going to say, to do? Rex has never really been on dates before, never really had time for them, so he was at a complete loss, and was was panicking by the time he reached to door of the restaurant.

Rex hesitated by the door, realizing a touch too late that none of them had mentioned how he would know who he was there for, how was he going to know? Now he was fully panicking as his hand reached up and pulled open the door. Rex immediately scanned the booths when he walked in, most of them already containing two or more people, but then he stopped. There, in the far corner was you, and Rex cursed his men for the hundredth time today. It couldn't have been, they didn't set him up with you, his soft and sweet civilian officer, the one person besides his brothers he trusted, the one person he would do anything for just to see them smile. His brothers wouldn't do that to him....would they?

Slowly, and almost shyly, Rex approached your booth, and asked quietly, "Is this seat taken?"

Rex watched your head raise and take in his form, he watched as the surprise and shock from seeing him slowly took over your facial features, before you nodded jerkily and motioned to the seat across from you. Rex sat, and looked around the small room, his jaw clenching and unclenching trying to think of something to say to you, but then your voice spoke up quietly, but amused, "So, Captain, I am guessing it is you that the boys set me up with tonight?"

Rex responded by nodding softly, before he turned to look at you. You looked so pretty in the soft light, flashy colors from the neon lights outside reflecting off your skin accentuating your features and making Rex swallow. You looked so beautiful it hurt. While he had come straight from his office, only taking time to just brush his hand over his buzzed hair, you had actually changed from your uniform, putting on clothes that highlighted your body in all the right ways, while still being modest, the clothing colors also fitting you and just making you pop in a way the boring grey uniforms never did. Maker, he both loved and hated his brothers for this.

The silence between the two of you dragged on for a few minutes, only broken by a waitress coming to get Rex's order, which he only asked for a cup of caf. When she left, Rex turned back to you and cleared his throat, "So how was your day? Besides having to deal with my idoits?"

Hearing your giggle made his heart soar, and a soft smile to form on his lips, as you looked up to meet his gaze. "It was boring, as usual. Nothing but paperwork, and lots of sighing as I read over your reports. Captain-"

"Rex... we aren't working, so you can call me Rex," he interrupted softly, a small blush highlighting his cheeks, but again your smile was more than worth hiss embarrassment.

"Rex," you rolled his name off you tongue in a way that had Rex repeating the sound over and over in his head, having him willing to give anything to hear you just repeat it over and over for the rest of his life, but then you continued, "I really think you should try disagreeing with General Skywalker's antics sometimes, I hate it when I read about him throwing you around like a rag doll."

Rex sighed, and looked down at his hands, before jokingly saying, "Well I hate being thrown around."

You giggled again, before letting out a soft, 'oh'. Rex looked up, and you gave him a fake stern look before saying, "And stop calling Fives, Jesse, and Echo idiots, we all know that Echo just gets dragged into the other two's schemes when it comes to anyone but his brothers. Echo doesn't deserve that title."

Rex chuckles, and shoots you a grin that your return fully, before he responds with, "I think you would be surprised, I have found half the time Echo is the mastermind behind whatever stunt is being pulled."

"Even more reason for you not to call him an idiot! Echo's smart enough to send Fives and Jesse, and occasionally Hardcase, to do whatever he thought up, and as a result finds himself away from the trouble."

Rex sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "I will give you that one, mesh'la."

After that the two of you fell into another round of silence, occasionally stealing looks, and getting embarrassed when you were caught, but Rex just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the smile that lit up your face and eyes, one that he only occasionally got to see while you both were working. rex just couldn't stop taking in how beautiful and relaxed you looked, how relaxed you made him feel. And it hit him then, like a ton of bricks, just how much he had fallen for you, how in love with you he was.

It wasn't until the waitress cleared her throat and set his caf down before scurrying away that he realized. I wasn't until he turn and found your shocked face, mouth slightly opened and searching eyes that another realization his him. Rex had just said that completely out loud. and in front of the waitress none the less. rex had just laid his love for you out in front of you on what was essentially your first date.

Wide wide eyes, and a blush covering his entire face, ears, and neck, Rex started to close in on himself, trying to come up with an excuse to leave or an explanation but just coming up with panicked thoughts on how he had fucked up. Rex felt like his world was crashing around him, and he always hoped he'd never die, but in this moment he would give anything to do just that to get away from this feeling.

But then you whispered his name, so softly that he barely heard it, his brain barely acknowledging it as he was too caught up in his own head. Then he felt your hands reach across the table and curl around his clasped ones. with a clenched jaw he looked up, as you said his name again louder, and when he met your gaze all he found was soft hope. "Rex... did you mean it? Do...do you...."

Knowing his feelings were already in the open Rex cleared his throat and forced himself to speak, "Love you? With my entire being, cyare. I love you...."

Send me Tropes

[mae-gi-writes]

Hii can i request “Daylight” by Maroon5 for hyunjae 🥺🥺

Daylight | Hyunjae (tbz).

Listening to: Daylight by Maroon 5

A/N: the amount I relate to this though TT . TT I hope this was alright! I wasn’t quite sure what kind of scenario to go for with this song but oh well! Thanks for requesting and I hope you like it <3 <3

-----

"Don't leave."

Hyunjae chuckles, though it comes out empty. His grip tightens over your middle as he pulls you close, "you've said that over ten times already."

"But I mean it."

You sit, cuddled into his lap and legs splayed around him, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck with no intention of letting go so soon. Darkness permeates the walls of your room with a bare slither of the moon highlighting the soft strands framing Hyunjae's face. He ressembles an angel, you think to yourself, and justike an angel, he'll be disappearing from your arms the moment the sun rises the next morning.

"Please don't leave."

Your murmur, again bouncing off his collarbone, almost breaks in the process. One of his hands come up to stroke your hair, "I won't."

"Do you mean that?"

Pulling back slightly to gaze at the seriousness on your face, his eyebrow raises slightly in amusement, "don't go mopey on me on my last day."

You huff, "fine then. Just leave."

"Ah you," he bops your nose in affection, "you're hurting me with your words, Y/N."

"Good. Then maybe you won't leave."

Hyunjae can't help the laughter bubbling up from his lips at that, and despite your sourness you can't help but laugh along with him. It's like heaven, wrapped in Hyunjae's embrace like he's never going to let go. You want to believe that this will last forever, that this particular moment will freeze in time just so that you can be selfish for a little while.

But the glowing neon lights from your digital clock placed on your nightstand says otherwise. They're taunting, almost warning you of the time you have left.

3.45.a.m.

"You're going to be okay right? When you get there?" You ask him after a moment of comfortable silence.

He shifts you in his lap, pressing the softest of kisses under your jaw as he replies, "don't worry about me. Eric will pick me up from the airport," that is followed by a scoff, "wants to show off his new car."

"He bought it himself?"

"He says he does. I don't believe him though."

"Oh please," you nudge his arm playfully, "you're just jealous."

"No I'm not," Hyunjae retorts, nudging your side playfully. You duck away, giggling at the frown on his face before your thumb smoothes over the crease.

He softens, impulsively tuggig you close and imprinting a soft peck on your lips, "I'll miss you, you know."

His words are barely above a murmur, but they ring loud and clear through your ears, enough that it makes your eyes burn with the familiar ache of tears,. Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your hold, hugging him close and wishing that you don't have to let go. Not now, not ever.

He hugs you back, one hand stroking soft circles down the small of your back. It makes you shiver and you sigh into his neck, wondering why life seems so unfair.

"I'll miss you too," you finally say in a small voice.

"Four months," his alto brushes against the shell of your ear, "four months. And I'll be back."

Four months seem unbearable. Almost impossible. You've been doing this long distance thing for so long that it tears you apart and stitches you back together god knows how many times. But you hold on, because Hyunjae is a huge blessing in your life. He's a blessing that you now can't life without and you can't imagine living through your day to day without him.

"Hey," his hand slides up the back of your neck to tug you away, eyes finding yours and lips pressing together at the tears glistening at the corners, the downward tug of your mouth, "it'll be okay. We'll be okay. Unless you know, I die because of some stupid shit--"

"Oh shush. You're so dramatic."

"I know. That's why you love me."

Rolling your eyes and unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face, you dip your head back down for another kiss. Hyunjae's lips mold to yours with a familiarity that causes a series of tingles to shoot down your spine. Gasping silently in his mouth, your hands find purchase in his hair while his travel down to your waist, squeezing softly with affection.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips, before kissing your next breath away. You allow him to, neck falling back against his mouth slowly peppering kisses down your neck.

"I love you too," you whisper back, hold him close. Nosing down your collarbone and peppering a rain of kisses over your exposed skin, it takes him a moment to realize that you're crying, sobbing silently as you clasp the back of his head in an iron grip.

"Hey hey hey," his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away at your tears streaming down your face. His own features soften, eyes glistening with wetness before he brings you into a hug, "hey Y/N, it's okay. It'll be okay."

You know it will. You've managed to make it work for the past three years and honestly you should've gotten used to it by now. But the pain is always fresh, like a wound constantly ripping open every time Hyunjae hops onto a plane and disappears from the space he's carved into your bed.

You hate it. You hate it so much you want to rip your hair off until the pain numbs out the one in your heart.

Dawn arrives a little too soon for your liking, and since you've fallen asleep on Hyunjae's chest in the process of crying, your first thought as your eyelids flutter open is that he's gone. Hands shoot out in panic, almost elbowing the said man in the process.

"Oh!" Your head turns to see a sleepy Hyunjae, blearily blinking back at you through a fog of sleep, "oh," and your body instantly relaxes knowing that he's still here.

"Hey," Hyunjae murmurs, nosing your jaw and leaving a small kiss there, "morning."

"Morning," you whisper back. His hair tickles your nose as he kisses your cheek, "what time is your flight?"

"Nine," he sneaks a glance at his phone before a groan rumbles through him, "should probably start getting ready."

He's right and you nod along, ignoring the swell taking place in your chest like a balloon about to burst with all the sadness you've been stowing away. You help him pack the last of his things and make him breakfast; your eggs are a little more carefully made today, ensuring that his toast isn't burnt and that he gets a side of baked beans to fill him up. Qll the while ignoring the blatant reminder of reality that stands by your door in the form of his suitcase.

He doesn't have to ask you whether you're okay; he feels it, spots the permanent wetness in your eyes even as you laugh at his jokes throughout breakfast, notices the tightness of your knuckles aa you hold onto your utensils as though scared your sanity might slip away at any given moment.

And when it is time for him to say his goodbyes, he shrugs on his jacket and opens up his arms. You don't hesitate throw yourself at him, wrapping yourself as tightly as possible while his mouth presses another soft kiss to the outside of your ear.

"Don't cry, okay?" He peppers a line of kisses along your cheekbone. That only makes you hold him even tighter still, burrowing your face into his chest until Hyunjae manages to cup your cheek to tilt your head up, "I mean it, Y/N."

"Then don't go."

"Oh come on," he scoffs and flicks your forehead lightly, which causes you to yelp, "hey! Not cool."

"That's for being too cute," his hands slip down to rest on your forearms, eyes locking on yours, "now don't cry. Or I won't buy you boba anymore."

"That's an empty threat and you know it," you mutter with narrowed eyes.

Chuckling, Hyunjae then brushes away some stray hairs from your forehead before he leans in to peck the said area, "I have to go. I'm cutting it close."

"I know."

You hug him once more. Just one more, your mind chants in desperation. He pulls back after that before his mouth finds yours in a searing hot kiss -- one that is filled with promises and love and pure affection dripping from his lips -- as you stumble against him, right into your front door.

You're practically breathing into each other when he pulls back, foreheads pressed, "I need to go," he rasps out and you nod, heart dropping to your stomach with dread.

He’s right. So you do what your body is screaming at you not to do. You step back and he grabs onto his suitcase, turning back to look at you with eyes just as wet as yours. And for some reason that makes you feel a little bit better.

“Take care,” your hand lifts to cradle his face, going on your tiptoes for one last kiss. He returns it softly, thumb cradling your jaw as he mumbles out, “you too.” 

“Text me when you pass through security,” you say, watching him open the door and fighting to keep yourself from crumbling with every step that widens the gap between your two bodies.

“I will,” he sends you a smile that is supposed to be comforting and yet, still makes you wish that you could rewind time. 

“Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

When the door closes behind him, your knees give out in the ear-numbing, heart-wrenching silence that swallows you whole.

[kawaiijohn]

DP Angst Week Day One: Birth/Creation

Ao3: here!!

Wc: 1463

Nav: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

prev | next

The Abyss

Waking up without any idea where you are is a pretty prevalent fear for many, and for others it's nothing more than the aftermath of a baller pub crawl.

However, most don't find themselves surrounded by a vast swirling void of lime highlighter green when they wake.

The first thing they noticed was the barren hunk of rock they'd woken up on. Grey and deep violet, yet still surrounded by the swirling neon green skies.

'Either there's a storm comin' or I'm not 'in Kansas' anymore...'

They tried to think about how the hell they ended up here, wracking their brain for any small detail, but they realized they couldn't remember anything. Not their name, nor their age- nothing was coming to them. They knew 'they' was right and so was 'he'; the words felt right, even if there was no name to match.

The more he thought, however, the more his head began to swim. There was nothing before they'd opened their eyes this morning. Or was it night? Evening??

Time didn't seem to matter here.

The toxic sky made it impossible to tell what time it was, and the purple and grey soil they were standing on made them assume they were possibly on a different planet.

What kinds of things might even live here? If anything does live here, that is. Alien life had to exist, right? We hadn't contacted them yet due to both distance and technological incompatibilities... Something clicked, filling in a blank.

'I believe that's referred to as 'The Fermi Paradox'.

He blinked, not knowing where the phrase came from. How could he recall a niche scientific theory but couldn't even recall what he'd been doing the night before??

He was panicked- trying to remember anything; his age, birthday, zodiac sign... was he a Scorpio or a Gemini? Maybe he was a cusp or something interesting...

He had to know something else... Maybe he could try and recall his Myers's Briggs personality test- then he'd find more information from inference... But not everyone fit into neat little boxes even if they were wonderful starting points...

His chest buzzed pleasantly with the train of thought, but he was no closer to an answer.

He could be in space for all he knew.

Or maybe an alternate realm...

'What, did I get hit by a truck and transported to another world?!? Is this, an Isekai or something?? ...Why do I know that word, but have no clue what my name is????'

Irritated, they looked to the horizon, spotting a floating island. He was going to dismiss it but felt something calling to them from beyond.

The feeling brought them to their knees.

They shook their head, trying to ignore the call, knowing the jump was impossible to make. It would be suicidal to take that leap...

Right?

They exhaled harshly, a strange hiss passing their lips as something vast and empty in their chest demanded they take the leap. No matter how unsafe their mind knew it was, their chest was still singing for something the horizon; calling out to that something with such pulling force it felt like a black hole would devour their common sense.

Time marched on, but they did not move.

They knelt, refusing to listen to the call until their head stopped spinning. Their knees crunched hard into the sharp gravel, digging trenches to stay grounded.

Why didn't their knees hurt from this? They've always had bad joints, especially after the- after...

After what?

They clawed the dirt, shaking in fear at what could be beyond their small respite in the lime abyss. Their mind was blank, torn between urge and indecision. They could sit here alone and think more. Or. They could follow the call.

It could be a trap.

But.

Something deep within told them they'd always felt comfort in nothing, even before this. They'd always felt comforted by the void. They didn't know what all it meant, but it was better than sitting there any longer.

So they followed their heart.

It was better to die trying than to remain a sitting duck in exile.

'Geronimo.'

They expected to die, to perish as they fell into the endless (and somehow comforting) vast sea of lime; to spend eternity gazing into long nothingness until they passed the event horizon and became one with the universe.

Instead, they floated.

They managed to fall about three or so feet before righting themself, head whipping erratically- up, down, left, right. This shouldn't be possible but...

He tested the waters (so to speak) and found he could pretty much fly. They grinned, mouth splitting farther than they remembered it being able to, but that was a mystery for later.

They sighed, relenting, and followed the siren's song.

-----

Some things seemed to be very out of place. Wrong, even.

Firstly, his hands were completely black. Not just the black of cloth, but black as the void of space- small pricks of light shone when he smiled and constellations vibrated when he grew frustrated with his amnesia. Obsidian talons (he couldn't even begin to call them hands, not with how they seemed to grow in response to his emotions) replaced what he thought for sure would be bitten nails with torn cuticles. He didn't know why he expected chipped blue nail polish.

They'd just painted their nails a few days ago and with their job it always...

'Wait... what was my job?'

Why did that confuse them? They had a job. They knew they did... It was... They brought a hand to their head, thoughts turning into radio static

'My job was...'

Faces and colors they couldn't place assaulted their mind. Names came and went, leaving nothing but lingering feelings- like a song cut off by a garbled PA announcement, the clouded memories were interrupted by crackling interference.

Claws brushed his face as black droplets rushed from his eyes.

That wasn't right either...

Nothing was right but they kept flying.

-----

Green seas shifted into a black expanse, the lime color swirling faintly in the distance instead of consuming the skies. Purple doors hovered every which way they could.

Relieved that the skies became less eye-burning, they spoke for the first time. "Thank gods!! That neon hellscape was giving me a headache..."

A pause.

That wasn't right. It didn't sound right at all.

That wasn't their voice.

Their voice was nasally, high pitched and awful. Nothing like the deeper growl they just heard... Though they were slowly panicking, the deeper voice felt right. It was something they didn't know they wanted, but it clicked as if it were natural.

But it didn't matter how pleasant it sounded, they needed to keep moving.

-----

Was it days? Hours?? Were they flying for weeks?

They didn't know, had absolutely no fuckin clue. But what did know was that they'd reached their destination.

It didn't stand out much, but for reasons unknown he felt comfortable here- at peace. His heart led him to a small island. Strange, yet familiar flowers grew in patches around a worn, yet glowing path leading to a door- black wood door with silver embossment.

"Fancy..."

He looked around- well there wasn't anything else around...

They approached the strange structure and flinched when stylish street lights flickered on with a blue-green flame. The weird vibrating in their chest sang that they were here.

This was home.

He stepped back, looking high and low. He did not trust like that. The door wasn't even connected to anything! With more investigating he saw the path reacted to his footsteps but not much else.

"Great! I get led here by the power of friendship or somethin and can't even get a break??"

He grumbled, hissing under his breath as he felt his body elongate and warp in frustration. This was all the damn door's fault!

Stupid fuckin piece of driftwood!! He ran up and kicked the offending structure, noting that he felt no pain even with an all-out kick.

In his growling frustration, however, something metal and glimmering appeared on the door- a nameplate in somehow familiar handswriting.

The void in his chest sang, something finally clicked.

"Quizz, huh?" They laughed to themself. "Thought my name'd be somethin cooler! Like Maxwell... or Levi." They crossed their arms. Progress! "Well... guess beggars can't be choosers or whatever the hell that phrase was."

They found themself hesitating. That wasn't the way to go! They were certain they weren't a quitter, even with as little as they knew of themself. No, there was an apparently magical door with their name on it that called them from across the void.

No real reason to hesitate anymore. They reached for the handle with a wicked and determined grin.

"Alrighty then! Let's see what's behind door number one!!"

[gay-otlc]

Keepers Of The Chaos (3)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Dex, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh’s podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, religion (Jewish Vackers), and Amsterdam (just in case, I know that was stressful for some people).

Word count: 1621

Notes: Most of the episodes are just events stolen from Lynn's roundup, Dex's memes are here

(Read on AO3)

The life of an amateur meme maker on dumbles dot com was a strange one, that was for sure. After finishing xyr favorite show- Ze-Ra: Monaerchs of Powhir- for the third time, Dex had searched for another show to fill the void in xyr soul. Biana recommended this show called "Keepers of the Chaos" and described it to xem. Xe was doubtful at first, but after watching the first episode, xe was hooked.

Xe used to not have many friends at xyr school, so xe did what every neurodivergent queer teen would do- made an account on dumbles dot com. People seemed to like xem- or at least, they liked dizznee-plus's memes and edits of Ze-Ra characters. Even after Dex befriended xyr squish, Fitz, thons sister, Biana, and aer girlfriend, Sophie, xe continued making content on dumbles. Around that time, the Ze-Ra fandom started dying off, and xyr memes started getting fewer note

In a sudden, two am burst of inspiration, Dex made edits of some of xyr favorite characters, like Ref, Akki, and Rose, with their respective pride flags (all of them bi) over them, and captioned it "we must be gay." The post blew up, or at least, what could be considered blowing up in Keeper of the Chaos's tiny fandom, and that was how Dex found xyr calling as an amateur meme/edit maker for KOTC.

History had been repeating itself, with the KOTC fandom starting to die off, until it was revived by an announcement from creator Saturn Nolastname- a season two would be released soon. Frantically, Dex made a meme about season one episode two, with the car salesman meme. Xe edited "chaos keepers" onto the car salesman, "the rarelynoticed" on the car, and "this bad boy can fit so many stripper outfits into it."

That had been... an interesting episode, to say the least. The chaos keepers had been talking about the antagonists of "Sophie and the Dark Duck"- a rebel group called the Rarelynoticed. In the information packet they'd been given, it was confirmed that the Rarelynoticed wore black cloaks and armbands, but no other clothes had been mentioned. Somehow, the chaos keepers came to the conclusion that the Rarelynoticed really wore neon pink leotards and green stripper heels, then drew this idea.

Needless to say, the Tumblr staff did not let them write that into the book. Nor did Lynn, the unofficially chosen leader of the group. Unfortunately for her, this didn't stop the chaos keepers from drawing more of these- or the fandom from making a ton of memes. In addition to the car salesman meme, a post with Drake saying no to "wearing normal fucking villain outfits" and yes to "leotards and stripper heels" gained popularity within the small fandom.

Though nothing could match the absolute shock of seeing the Rarelynoticed stripper outfit for the first time, Dex decided to rewatch the episode anyway- it was funny to see the chaos keepers freak out, and maybe xe could get some good screen captures. The good Saturn Nolastname indulged xem, and xe captured an excellent scene of most of the chaos keepers either laughing or screaming at the Rarelynoticed stripper outfits, with Kimber- one of xyr favorites- sitting on the side, explaining to Juno and Kaitee why Bianca Cracker was bisexual.

Xe went over to dumbles, posted the picture, added an image description, and captioned it "Live photo of me not caring when my friends talk about sex/romance." Xe chuckled to xemself- this really was how it felt to be aroace. Xe tagged it as aromantic and asexual as well, since dumbles added flag colors. Smiling, xe went to go check xyr notifications.

Xyr jaw dropped when xe saw that @lordofthesnuggles- Fitzroy (Dex didn't know thons middle name) Vacker thonself had liked and reblogged all three of xyr memes, even adding compliments in the tags! Xe'd had a bit of a platonic crush on Fitz for... a really long time, but xe always felt too awkward to talk to thon, so it was nice to see that thon appreciated xyr humor.

Feeling energized- and excited to procrastinate on xyr math homework- Dex went to watch the next episode: Dark Duck Is Jewish Now. Being Jewish xemself, this was a really funny episode to xem.

Lynn had been writing a sort of spinoff- it would be called fanfiction, but it was for her own story- about some of the Dark Duck characters celebrating Christmas, and added a throwaway line about Bianca and Finn Cracker celebrating Hanukkah. Then, her fiance, Shai, had taken that idea and run with it, writing a list of ideas about what would happen if the Cracker family was Jewish. Hir friend Sam had jumped on the idea, and soon they had abandoned writing the actual Dark Duck in favor of writing a story about Jewish Dark Duck characters. Some of the other Jewish chaos keepers, like Ref and Cat, helped out.

To be honest, it kind of surprised Dex that no one had made a joke about the Jewish Crackers just being matzah, so xe supposed xe would have to be the first.

Xe posted that observation, quickly getting a like from Fitz- which made xem smile. After a few minutes, Dex posted another meme: Shai and Sam standing in front of a door with a sign that read "elves don't have religion," and them saying "This sign won't stop me, because I can't read!"

It was accurate.

While that episode was great for Jewish representation, and funny, the Banana Noir episode was just plain weird.

It focused less on the Dark Duck than most of the other episodes, and was more about the crazy interactions of the chaos keepers. The episode was named for Banana Noir, who was really Cat Noir, but in a banana suit. Banana Noir was the son of Mellie, who looked like a shark, and Nora, who had platonically married faer. The mothers tried to arrange a marriage between him and Akki, who loved the side characters of the Dark Duck series. However, Akki wanted to marry Amelia. After a lot of shit that basically no one understood, Banana Noir's attempts were thwarted, and Lynn officiated the wedding between Akki and Amelia.

Yeah, Dex had no idea what the fuck was going on either. Xe'd watched an episode of Twins of the Chaos and a youtube video by arsonpog analyzing the Banana Noir chronicles, as it had been dubbed by the chaos keepers, and both expert opinions seemed to agree that Saturn Nolastname and the rest of the writers had probably been on crack when they made that episode.

The next episode made slightly more sense, though it was a low bar. After taking a break from the "official" Dark Duck story, the chaos keepers began collectively writing a Cinderella story about the characters Sophia and Bianca. People weren't allowed to be queer in the official story, but the chaos keepers still wanted to have fun with their obviously gay characters.

Even to the viewers of the show, who only received secondhand information about the Dark Duck characters, knew there was no way any of them, let alone all of them, were allocishet. The exact identities weren't entirely clear- when Dex had made edits of the characters' official art and xyr headcanons for their pride flags, a few people had disagreed- but both the chaos keepers and the fandom knew that despite what Shannon said, Sophia and Bianca were in love, and their Cinderella story should have made it in to the official Dark Duck story.

While excerpts of the Cinderella story were quoted in the show, most of it was left unclear, so Biana had taken it upon aerself to write aer own version of it. Dex was expecting an update later  that day, actually, or maybe the next. Ae wasn't always 100% reliable with aer update schedule. Still, Dex looked forward to when it eventually did come.

After the brief calmness from the Sophianca Cinderella episode, season one episode six, Amsterdam, exploded back into chaos. A few of the chaos keepers decided to discuss a fake scene in the book in which crazy shit went down, with the scene supposedly being located in Amsterdam. It had never been written and was never going to be, but everyone discussed it like it was real. Some of the highlights involved all the Dark Duck girls having swords (and the chaos keepers being gay for them), and a speedboat chase scene through the canals. Fitz had a popular theory that the chaos keepers would actually travel to Amsterdam in order to commemorate this crazy part of their lives. Almost as popular as that was a meme Dex made, with a man labeled "chaos keepers discussing amsterdam" and gesturing feverishly to a wall covered in papers and red string.

Of course, episode seven (Dark Duck Disney) was chaotic too. Everything was chaotic with this group, it was in the title. Shannon announced that the winning Dark Duck story would be adapted into a Disney movie. After past experience with terrible book to movie adaptations, the chaos keepers panicked. They panicked so much that it became major news within their school, which until then, had been largely ignoring the chaos keepers. Once the discussion about the movie settled down, they talked a lot about how in awe they were that their Dark Duck shenanigans were trending within the school.

But of course, none of that compared to the last episode of the season...

Dex changed xyr profile picture to include an ominous pair of teal eyes and sighed.

[lucas-grey]

I always wanted to write a FanFiction about little 6 and 47 and their time in the Institute, so here it is! I would also be very happy if you would left some Kudos for it on my AO3 ❤️

TW: Torture, Child abuse, Drowning, Death

Brasov, Romania

The Institute for Human Betterment was located far away from any civilisation in the mountainous forests. It was an old building, a mansion trumped by a box-shaped extension, the only part that suggested it was more than just a simple institution.

Because the Institute was situated in such a remote location, the human experiments that were carried out in this facility remained hidden from the public. With the cunning use of intimidation and money, it was easy to keep something a secret. Nobody outside the building knew anything about Doctor Otto Wolfgang Ort-Meyer's cloning program and the experiments he carried out on infants and children. Nobody suspected that in these deep, dark forests children were being tortured and that the main goal was to form them into perfect killers by any means necessary.

Everyday life in the Institute was tough and marked by violence and pain.The punishments for misconduct ranged from bashing to isolation and execution. The rules were strict and discipline was paramount.There was no place for feelings in the facility. The boys were trained to suppress emotions. They were taught that feelings equated with weakness. They had their guiding principles: Weakness is the enemy. Strength through discipline. Discipline through the mastery of one's feelings. But what Ort-Meyer and the brutal guards forgot was that they were still children who only suppressed their feelings for fear of punishment. Subject 6 knew the feeling of coming into the bedroom in the evening and being able to shake off this fear. That time when the boys got ready for bed, when they put on their pyjamas. It was like his whole body was relaxing. The feeling of tense muscles that were finally loosening. He used the short time when the bedroom door closed behind him to inhale and exhale several times and then suddenly let himself fall into his bed. This brief moment of lightness and peace of mind was the highlight of the day for him. But 6 knew that these instants were rare and could be broken at any time. It happened again and again that the boys were startled by the overseer in their sleep, to go on long marches through the forest in the middle of the night or to scramble through the muddy course behind the house when it was pouring raining. For this reason, these short times without this tension, without the knot in the chest that reminded the boys of their guiding principles, were so precious.

Far away from the guards' gaze, the boys used the time to exchange ideas. They sat together on their beds, telling creepy stories or watching porn magazines that they had stolen from the guards. It was important to be quiet. The children's laughter in those moments were barely audible, the boys had learned to hold their hands over their mouths so as not to be heard when they giggled at the sight of the naked women in the Playboy.

Subject 6 was an orphan. As an infant, he was left behind in the hospital by his mother immediately after his birth, where Ort-Meyer found him. He bought the baby and many more to do inhuman experiments on them. Ort-Meyer got the money and influence from an organisation called Providence, which commissioned the doctor to create the perfect killers. They should be more than just super soldiers, they should be quiet, the perfect silent assassins. Subject 6 remembered the many injections given to him. He remembered the feeling of serums flowing through his veins, the warmth rising inside of him and cramps that made all his muscles freeze and the pain so intense that he vomited. He was tied to a metal table and left alone with his pain. What remained was the feeling of fear. He thought he was going to die any moment; every fiber of his body was streaked with pain, as if he was being burned inside. He felt the sweat on his forehead and he could no longer suppress the screams. Tears were running down his face from the corners of his eyes. He sensed exactly how the serum flowed through his body, he felt how it found its way through his veins, like a burning river. He didn't know how long he laid there each time. Minutes? Hours? At some point the pain stopped and gave way to total exhaustion. 6 was breathing hard and looking into the bright light of the neon lamps. He no longer had the strength to scream or to fight the serum. It was like embracing the pain that plagued his body. He felt beads of sweat drip from his forehead and bare torso. The heat spread evenly as the serum made its way into every fiber of his body. He had to endure this procedure several times a week, always followed by tests to see whether the serum had the desired effect. He had to run for hours on a treadmill, lift weights and do intelligence tests. He knew he had acquired skills beyond those of a normal child.

In parallel to the attempt to make children stronger and more resilient with special serums, Ort-Meyer started a cloning program with the help of funds from Providence. He hoped to be able to create the perfect killer right from the start without having to send him through the painful procedure that 6 had to endure. Many of the first clones died early, they were disfigured and not viable. But with Subject 47, Ort-Meyer created a perfect clone, the perfect human. The perfect killer. Right from the start, 47 possessed all the skills that 6 and the other children had only acquired through the serums and hard training. 47 has been trained to use his skills to become the best assassin from the day he was created. Ort-Meyer watched him with hawk eyes. He had great expectations of 47, and the other children knew that 47 was in a different position from theirs. Although he had to do the same training as the others, Ort-Meyer watched him especially. He called him the most gifted of all his boys. Oftentimes, 47 had to show off his skills by fighting with other children. 6 watched him during these fights. He saw as the rest of the boys were left expressionless as they witnessed 47's dexterity in combat. He made it look effortless while the rest of them had to endure long hours of fighting techniques to be his worthy opponent. 47 appeared to 6 and the other children as cold and reserved, disinterested and unemotional. He never spoke to the others and always held back when there was a conflict.

It was 6 who at some point, when the boys were back in their chamber and getting ready for sleep, took the initiative and approached 47 as he was sitting on his bed and taking off his socks. "Hey 47," he said softly as 47 turned around and looked at him with his deep blue eyes. 6 felt the other children's gazes on his neck, they fell silent and there was a certain tension in the air, as if they were expecting 6 to be eaten alive by a bear. 47 didn't answer, so 6 stepped forward. He crossed his arms behind his back to show that he had no intention of harming him. "Today in the fight, that was impressive," said 6 with clear appreciation in his voice. 47 looked at him, then his gaze wandered to the other boys, who immediately averted their eyes for fear of angering him. Then he looked back to 6 and their eyes met. 6 tried to read something in his stare, a sign of gratitude for the compliment he had just received, or, which was more likely, a sign for annoyance. But he saw nothing. They were cold and unemotional. 6 regretted having said anything at all when 47 suddenly whispered a soft "thank you". At that moment 6 saw it, that brief glint in his eyes. It was barely noticeable, but 6 could see it. A small smile played around 6 lips. "Do you like card games?", he asked. 47 looked at him questioningly when 6 pulled out a couple of old cards from under his bed. "Some cards are missing, but you can still play Mau-Mau with them", said 6 as he shuffled them and was watched by 47. "I don't know that", 47 said shortly. 6 sat on the bed. "It's very easy." While 6 started explaining the rules, 47 slowly sat down next to him and listened attentively. The other boys watched in disbelief.

From that night on, 6 and 47 played Mau-Mau together on their bed everyday. The other boys did not dare to play along, on the contrary, from that evening on they met 6 with the same distance as 47, as if he had tamed a lion that he could let loose on the children at any moment with just one command. 6 didn't care. He enjoyed the friendship with 47 and the feeling of not being alone. When he went to sleep in the evening, he whispered to 47 a quiet "good night". 47 didn’t reply. Only his look at that moment told 6 that he was happy. For 6, his gaze was not cold and distant, but warm and grateful. It were just nuances, dilated pupils when 47 won Mau-Mau, a slight squint of his eyes when he lost, and that warm look he gave 6 when he wished him good night. Sometimes 6 even saw a slight hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. For outsiders who didn't understand 47 as well as he did, it wasn’t more than a twitch, but 6 knew it was there. 6 realised that 47 was more than an emotionless clone and he was aware that he was the only one with the gift of knowing this.

One night, Subject 6 and the other boys were asleep in their beds. In the small room there was space for eight children in four bunk beds. The chamber was bare and uncomfortable, with nothing to suggest that children lived there. There were no toys, no painted pictures on the walls, no books. The metal beds were equipped with thin mattresses and blankets and only an old fireplace provided the warmth that was so badly needed that winter.

Suddenly, Subject 6 and the other children were woken up when their warden opened the door and loudly ordered the children to get up. None of the boys showed resistance. Nobody pulled the covers over their heads again or stretched, yawning. As if at the push of a button, they got out of their beds and stood in a row. 6 looked at Subject 47, who was facing him. Their eyes met. 6 knew that 47 felt the same uncertainty about what was to come as he did, even though one couldn't tell. But 6 could see it in his eyes. No one except 6 knew that 47 sometimes felt the same fear as the other children and it was important that it stayed that way. Ort-Meyer would be very disappointed to know that his favorite Subject was feeling exactly the same emotions as the others.

The boys stood next to their beds. They knew these situations. They were aware that they were being roused from their peaceful sleep because they had a task to do. They were only dressed in their blue pyjamas, they wore neither socks nor shoes. Despite the log fire, the arch was freezing and Subject 6 felt the cold slowly rise inside his body. He watched intently as the guard walked scrutinizing past the children and examined them. "We're going out", he bleated and left the room. The boys followed without saying a word. They all knew that talking or even contradicting would result in a blow with the rubber truncheon by the overseer.

They ran down the hall and down the great stairs. Subject 6 felt uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time the children had been awoken from their sleep in the middle of the night to do some kind of task. But what they ultimately had to do remained a secret until the very end. It was the element of surprise that the overseer used. It should prepare the boys to be able to improvise in any situation and to always perform at their best.

When the warden opened the large front door, the boys were hit by the icy cold outside. Without hesitation, they followed the overseer into the snow. When Subject 6 stepped into the snow with his bare feet, he was breathless for a moment. The cold shot through him with an uncomfortable pain, he felt his feet and then his limbs went stiff. "Don't stop", the guard shouted angrily when he noticed the boys' hesitation as they tried to ignore the freezing cold that seized their bodies. 6 folded his arms and rubbed his armpits with his hands to at least warm up a little. He felt his breathing accelerate automatically and how the cold found its way into his throat. The pain that pierced his body was almost unbearable. He tried to remember the feeling he had when he was lying in his bed. Although the mattresses were uncomfortable and the blankets were thin, the moment the bedroom door was closed was the one 6 liked the most. He knew that it could happen at any time that he would be torn from his dreams, which is why the thought of his bed, of the silence and the relaxation that he felt when he lay there and his mind could freely circulate, was so precious to him. He thought of the evenings with 47, which they spent sitting on the bed playing cards and the warmth of the fireplace that surrounded him when he closed his eyes and slowly slipped into lovely sleep when fear and pain were forgotten for a brief moment.

At that point he dared to look back briefly. Subject 47 was further behind him. He rubbed his armpits too. 6 could see how hard he was breathing, each of his breaths visible through a thick, misty waft. 47 looked at him and gave him a short nod to understand that he should look forward again. Subject 6 turned and continued to follow the guard in silence.

It wasn't long before the children reached a lake not far from the Institute. 6 couldn't tell what time it was, but it was probably very early in the morning as he could already see the sun rise on the horizon, its rays making their way through the trees and lighting up the frozen lake as if its surface was made of nacre.

The warden ordered the boys to line up. "Your task: you swim from one end to the other", he explained briefly. The task was clear, none of the boys asked a question or protested, even if everyone knew this task could be fatal. So it was with many tasks that the children had to do at the Institute. 6 had seen many children die. He knew that because of the way they were created, he and the other boys were different from other children, both mentally and physically. They were made to be faster, stronger, and more resilient. They were intelligent, could improvise even in stressful situations and they could adapt well to any circumstance. But they weren't invulnerable. Even small mistakes could cause a task to fail. Even so, it wasn't impossible for them to accomplish this order. Normal children would hardly survive this, they would probably die from the shock of the cold water, let alone be able to hold their breath long enough to swim to the other side. 6 knew that he and the other boys were physically capable of doing this. More important was whether they would be able to keep a clear head during the process. This exercise was not only a test of their physical abilities, but above all their mental ones. "Subject 4, you are the first", the warden shouted. He had a clipboard and a stopwatch in his hand. One of the boys stepped forward. He took off his pyjamas until he was standing in the snow in his underpants. Subject 6 saw him shiver. His skin looked pale and bluish, and his feet were red from the cold snow. Subject 4 carefully stepped onto the ice surface, which crunched under his weight. He went on to a hole in the ice. 6 looked at the hole and his gaze wandered to the end of the lake, where he could make out another one in the distance that was straight ahead to the other.

Subject 4 slowly slid into the hole before taking a deep, perceptible breath and then submerged. The guard pressed the stopwatch. What followed was an uncomfortable silence. While the warden only looked at the ticking watch, the boys looked at the surface. Subject 6 held his breath. He wondered how long it would take Subject 4 to swim to the other side while watching the shadow of 4's silhouette beneath the ice sheet. He felt the tension when he noticed that he could no longer hold his breath and he knew that there were only seconds left for Subject 4 to get to the other side. 6 breathed out silently when couldn’t hold his breath anymore, when he suddenly heard a knock. The guard looked at the surface. It was first a short knock, then another, then it became more. They all heard the despair; they all knew what was happening. When the knocking fell silent, the guard stopped the clock, took the pen from the clipboard and with one movement he crossed out something on a piece of paper.

"Subject 6, you're next", he snapped. 6 breathed in and out deeply as he took off his pyjamas. He had the feeling that he no longer sensed the cold. The pain had given way to a strange numbness and what remained was the impression of many small needle pricks that hit his skin. When he was standing there only in his underpants and walking in the direction of the ice surface, he noticed the warden looking at him. He wanted to turn around and look at 47 but he didn't dare to. When 6 reached the small hole in the ice, he first slid his feet into it. The pain that rose through him almost made him scream, but he stifled the scream and clenched his teeth in agony. He let himself slide further into the icy water, then took a deep breath and dived below the surface.

The water was pitch black. Only a few of the distant sun rays penetrated the thick surface and served 6 as a subtle but much necessary orientation. Without hesitation, he started swimming. He stayed just below the surface and tried to the best of his capacity to swim straight ahead. He tried to remember the hole on the other side of the lake and he orientated himself by the sun rays that he hoped would shine through the other hole. As he swam as fast as he could, he was suddenly distracted by something he saw to his right. He dared a quick look to the side and looked into the wide-open eyes of Subject 4 floating motionlessly below the surface. Subject 6 was petrified. He felt a vibrating heat flooding his body. Immediately he removed his gaze from his late mate and refocused in front, yet in the corner of his eyes the boy’s stiff body still floated and his dead stare remained stubborn in his mind like a reminder. He had to make it to the exit hole because he knew he only had seconds before he couldn't breathe anymore, and his body would give up due to the cold.

Subject 6 swam as fast as he could when he saw the redeeming sun rays shining through the other hole. When he emerged, he took a deep breath. Although the cold continued to hurt and his heart pounded as hard as if it were about to beat out of his chest. He climbed out of the hole and as he stood on the slippery surface he felt life coming back to his body. He took some deep breaths to feel the fresh air in his lungs again. His stiff limbs ached, so he moved them a bit. He shook his arms and legs to get rid of the ice cold water that surrounded his body. He was clearing himself from the fear and pressure he had just felt and allowed the relief of having survived the task. Without lingering, he ran back to the others.

He got no praise from the guard, no applause from the other children. Another boy has already been asked by the guard to do the job. Subject 6 took his ice-cold pyjamas out of the snow and pulled them over his wet body. He saw his reddish blue skin, he saw how he was trembling and he could no longer suppress the fact that his teeth chattered softly and his lips trembled. Only now did he realise that Subject 47 was no longer there. The panic of the air slowly lacking in his lungs, his heart racing and shrinking due to the icy water was nothing compared to the shock of that moment as he realised that the blurry silhouette swimming under the ice was 47. The image of the lifeless eyes of Subject 4 floating stiff in the water came back as his stomach twisted violently in visceral dread for his friend. To his convenience, his trembling limbs and shattering teeth seemed to the rest of the boys and the warden as the natural response to the freezing low temperature. The truth was, the fear for 47’s life had taken over his whole self in uncontrollable nerves. He realized that the trembling of his body was no longer just from the cold, but also from the fear he was feeling.

The ticking of the stopwatch was the only thing that broke the silence. Those were painful seconds for subject 6. Tormenting because of the uncertainty whether 47 would make it, agonising because he was not allowed to say that he was afraid, that he would have to suppress any feeling. At the corner of his eyes he noticed as the warden threw a look at him and in the blink of an eye, he studied him. Emotions weren’t allowed, as neither were words of encouragement or congratulation. Emotions were equated with weakness. Weakness is the enemy. Strength through discipline. Discipline through the mastery of one's feelings. With one eye 6 followed 47 swimming under the ice while with the other, he made sure the warden didn't notice the sheer level of dread that had taken over his slender body. He felt his heart ache. His gaze was fixed on the other hole at the end of the lake. Tick ​​tock tick tock tick tock. Subject 6 gritted his teeth. He had the feeling that he could hardly stop the tension. The agitation that surrounded his body hurt even more than those few seconds swimming under the ice cold water. His hands clenched into fists and trembled from the pressure. Suddenly he heard a gush of water come from the other hole and the bald head of Subject 47 emerged. When 6 saw him climb out of the hole, he immediately let go of the convulsion. Life returned to himself like a warm breeze and embraced his body. The pressure left his body as if he were shedding ballast. The knot in his chest that had cut off his breath came loose when he saw 47 climb out of the hole unharmed. 6 suppressed the imminent smile that wanted to draw in his lips. He didn't care that he was cold, he didn't care about the pain. It just mattered to him to know that Subject 47 had made it.

When the task was finished, the sun had already risen. Six boys followed the guard back into the large building, where they were allowed to take a warm shower and change into fresh clothes. When Subject 6 got dressed, he went to 47, who quietly put on his clothes. “Are you okay?” 6 asked quietly. 47 looked at him and nodded. 6 was unsure whether 47 was well, when he suddenly saw a small, barely perceptible smile flicker in the corner of his mouth. That's when 6 knew he was okay.

Special thanks goes out to @sillyliterature Thank you for giving me helpful tips and for helping me to improve myself as a writer! Thank you for taking your time reading my stories, I really appreciate ❤️

[mediocre--writing]

Favorite Crime

S- I was your willing accomplice, honey

Bad news. Bad news, bad news, bad news.

Nobody had a single good word to his name, besides a praise for his party facade or his skills in bed.

But there's always a deeper story behind a headline, or that's what Nancy had always told him. That this unflattering headline covered a hurt, poor person who was, more than likely, being villainized for a story. That's what happened with Jonathan, right?

Bad guy has a shitty family life and it turns out he's not the villain at all, just different in a way people don't yet understand.

But how can someone so cruel and crude have a deeper story than just being a jackass?

Turns out, it's always more complicated than calculus homework Steve still doesn't understand.

A short word from Max itched a scratch inside Steve's head that had been bothering him since the first day. The way he sauntered, never just walked, nor did he ever cower, the way he always looked so fine, so perfect, so okay.

Just like Steve does, he guesses. The focus on his hair and his clothing and how he's perceived, it doesn't matter to him how he looks, he just wants people off his back.

So, it's not surprising that it was an uphill journey, more like a completely vertical wall standing between them, but they somehow made it to the top, made it together.

Somehow, despite the fights and denials, despite the reluctance and the running, it was rough, and it seemed like gravity was strongest at the top, trying to pull them down the closer they got together. They're standing at the top, this once unattainable point that seemed like the top of the world where the sun shined brightest on them and only them. Nobody else.

Except there's always someone else, isn't there?

It's not always someone falling in love with someone else or falling out of love with the one they were destined to be with, sometimes there's pressures you can't fight on your own, sometimes they're even too strong to fight with someone else. Sometimes you can't defeat your enemy like the knight slays the dragon. Sometimes you don't live happily ever after with the princess and she just stays locked in her tower until someone can actually save her.

B- Doe-eyed as you buried me

The eyes, the lashes, the soft glances in the hallway and the sweet smiles shared during practice. They all pile up over time, creating this deep, strong warmth that keeps your body warm. The warmth that you don't notice until you're separated from it for a second too long.

The fire ignited in a once ice cold heart that gives meaning and light to a corrupted soul begging for help.

Those big, brown eyes that were once referred to as "ugly cow eyes," a statement that Billy couldn't disagree with more. Because even if they were cow eyes, they were sweet, beautiful, innocent eyes that were so willing to love.

Eyes that opened his own, opened his eyes to a bright, new future he didn't even know existed before.

It was smothering, the feeling, which he hadn't felt in almost ten years now, one he didn't realize he'd forgotten what that love felt like, what being cared for felt like.

He fell into love like a poor, unexpecting animal would fall into a hunter's trap.

It was like he knew it was happening, he noticed he was falling and tried to grab onto the sides of the trap, try to claw his way out, but he inevitably fell to the bottom, laying on his back, but he noticed that this trap wasn't so bad. He could still feel the sunlight on his cheeks and there was someone there, laying next to him who offered great comfort as they waited for the predator to kill them both.

But it felt safer when there was dirt being put on top of him to keep the burning heart warm, it was like the predator wouldn't be able to spot them if they hid for long enough under this false hope, because they were still stuck in the bottom of the trap and they were only digging themselves deeper.

S- And now, every time a siren sounds, I wonder if you're around

Steve's favorite color was always purple. He liked the harshness of red and the calm of blue and purple always seemed to fit the blend. It was a strong color, something he'd associated with his best days and reminded him of this innocence he loved.

He doesn't love purple so much anymore.

The neon signs above shops and restaurants, composed of this beautiful red and dashing blue turned the dark mall into a bright purple.

The fireworks bouncing off the walls and their faces glowed in bright yellows and greens and blues and reds and purples.

And that purple hue covered everything that night. Not a single light was burning brighter than that purple color.

The red blood gushing down his chest wasn't beautiful and the sight of his dashing blue eyes closing was more horrifying than any sight he'd ever been forced to watch.

He hated purple. He hated the mix of blue and red and he hated the beautiful purple color that highlighted his face while he struggled to breathe, while he searched for Steve’s eyes and reached out for his hand before he just--stopped.

And the sirens, God, the sirens.

They were loud and blaring and the god damn red flashing lights were mixing with the blue lights from cop cars and Steve was so fucking sick of seeing those colors everywhere. So fucking sick of that loud blaring noise, but that also could have been a result of the concussion and blood loss he’d experienced within the past 48-ish hours.

And, he gets it, that sometimes people just don’t get lucky enough to make it.

But it’s been close to three months and every time a cop car or ambulance passes him, he just wants to sprint after it, like he wanted to that night, just to see him one more time before the inevitable ends it for good.

The inevitable, isn’t it always funny that you can stop it? Or--could have stopped it. There’s always a solution that could have prevented this “unpreventable” event, yet people pretend it isn’t so. That people die because it’s “meant to be” and not a tragic fate that no good person deserves.

The inevitable, isn’t so inevitable, turns out, on a day in November when Max admits a hidden truth.

And they meet again, but it feels the same. They missed each other unlike any person they hadn’t seen. They just sit for hours, barely talking but just holding hands, squished on this tiny hospital bed where a, supposedly dead, teenager and his boyfriend sit and silently cry.

And as they hear an ambulance pull up outside of the hospital, Steve doesn’t tense like he has been for the past months, he just squeezes Billy’s hand tighter and feels his breathing from where they’re touching.

B- But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

The camaro, the doctors warned him that he may not like driving it, some form of PTSD from the night and the accidents that had occured, but Billy felt more released from his problems as he drove the car than when he had to sit in a hospital room or talk with his step sister and the nerd herd about...well, anything.

And the sunrise, how beautiful sunrises were above treelines as you release your problems with a loud rev of an engine.

He’d done his morning like he always would, made coffee when he woke up, got dressed, poured an extra cup for Steve, kissed him on the forehead when he left it on the nightstand, then lounged around the living room for a while.

Except today was different.

Billy wasn’t getting up at 6am, he was getting up at 5.

And he didn’t get dressed and lounge around, he got dressed and loaded his favorite things into his car.

But he was making the cup of coffee for Steve to wake up to when he got up at 7, it just probably wouldn’t be as hot as it usually was.

There’s a new step, but just for this day. He rips off a piece of paper from the notepad that they left by the phone.

He rips off the corner, enough to fold in half so it sits upright on the nightstand.

He draws a sloppy heart, one Steve always said just looked like a fat ‘X’, and signs a little ‘B’ in his “fancy prince handwriting” as Steve always called it.

He set the paper next to the cup of coffee, pulled up the sheets on his side of the bed, pushed Steve’s messy bed head back and left a soft peck on his forehead, then one on the tip of his nose. Steve’s pink, chapped lips moved into a soft, dopey smile as Billy pulled the blankets over his chest more, it was starting to get cold with October approaching.

The camaro roared under him as he started it up and pulled out of the driveway, working his way West, all the way to California: somewhere where his abusive dad wasn’t around and neither was the pressure to hide himself.

He hid everything, his sexualities, a majority of his home problems, his mental issues, how he’d see things, things that weren’t there and never had been. He’d continue wearing himself thin trying to keep up this facade, it was like he’d pushed himself down so far he forgot what he was supposed to like, what he used to hate.

For the best. This was better because he didn’t feel like Billy, he felt like different versions of some other person who was acting the role of Billy. Felt like his personalities didn’t match from person to person, lost the cathartic feeling of exposing all his thoughts to Steve, it made him feel guilty.

And Steve didn’t deserve that. Never did.

Billy was never good for him. He split everything up. Split up his own parents' marriage, he was the cause of most of their fights, and he ruined any and every relationship he’d ever been in, even the ones with Max or other people his age that he could have been a real friend to.

He still thinks about Steve, often. Thinks about him with a fond smile but hates how he was around him. Hated that feeling of hiding who he really was any time he was with this person who was supposed to be the best thing for him.

Hated the way Steve made him feel the need to pull at the reins to stop but made him want to go faster, faster, faster.

Hated Steve. Hated the way he loved him, but he just couldn’t force himself to be that happy.

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime...'Cause baby, you were mine.

[ihopethisendswell]

My Computer Is Terrible So I'm Stating My Story Ideas Here Part 9: This is gonna be very f-ing vague but it has Lore Keeper Sonia in it and that all that matters.......and my oc x Leon ship I guess.

Okay okay okay

Swsh Fantasy/Medieval/Royalty Au

You love it. I love it. Will I write about it? Eh. Will I gush about it? Absolutely.

So so so

Some random things that I'm thinking about.

I'm going full ramble here prepare yourself.

Lore. Keeper. Sonia. My. Beloved.

Let her have an active role dammit

For what idk but it'll be something!

Also King Leon cause duh

With Raihan as his number 1 knight. The only one who can at least match him in battle

Also his bff( along with Sonia)

Being a young king Leon had less time to interact with those he cares about

Like Hop

Also Prince Hop My Beloved

So like

The plot is very vague but like

The basic idea is that there's a threat of a dragon or something similar to the sort

And ofc King Leon and his best knight will go to the threat themselves since soldiers they sent has note returned so better go themselves to not loose anymore men

So as they prepare to leave Sonia comes along and is like " I'm coming with you I know about these Legends of the Land that might help you" and Leon is like " No it's do dangerous" and they fight about while Raihan is in the background like " oh damn" before Leon uses his status as a king and orders Sonia to not interfere which really blows a whole into their already stained friendship

It also causes Raihan to question if his relationship with Leon is that they're actually friends or it's just of a king and his knight ( only professional)

Leon in all of this is feeling very bad but Rose is like " you did what you had to do" and tries to encourage Leon about his abilities/ status/ relationships.

Rose is Leon's counselor/ Duke/ idfc but he's there

Change in perspective: it's hops turn

His whole thing is that when he was really young he used to be bff's with this girl( Naomi) but the problem is that no has seen her AND one day she just disappeared like that one guy in the meme so no one believes him when he says that she exist

So up until now he was taught to believe that he was imagining things and that this girl didn't really exist until he started having weird dreams about someone calling him to fulfill some prophecy of sword and shield or whatever and each time this person mentions Naomi, his childhood friend

And in his dreams it's said that they have to go to the place Leon and Raihan are going to fulfill the prophecy

So now Hop's like " well dang I guess I have to fulfill this prophecy but there's no way that Lee would let me go with him-" ( cause he overheard Lee's and Sonia's fight) " so who can I ask?"

Piers that's who!!!

Idk if he's gonna be a duke or part of a gang of thieves not how tf does hop know about him but he does and we're gonna role with it

THIS IS GETTING ODDLY SPECIFIC FIR SOMETHING THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE F-ING VAGUE

Also Marnie tags along too because of course she does

They somehow tag Bede along who was going to stop them but they forced him to come anyway

BACK TO LEON

A day before they leave Raihan is like " we should head to the market for extra supplies " and Leon's like " yeah sure" so they head to the market

While they're there Leon bumps into a stranger with black clock with neon blue highlights aka Alexis!!!!

And Alexis drops a few things most notable a compass of sort but before Leon can say anything Alexis just snatches it out of Leon's hands and walks off without a word

And Leon's like " rude" but honestly doesn't think of it

So the next day they're actually leaving for real and after a long while on the road Raihan thinks that some snuck on their carriage only to find out it was just Sonia because she's a bad bitch like that

And Leon obviously makes a fuss because she went against his orders but she's like " I know more about * insert place* more than the two of you combined!" ( Well not really, and Raihan is fairly knowledgeable about Legends and history and and stuff but I need a reason for Sonia to be there okay)

They fight for a bit before Raihan gets in between the two and is like " we're too far to go back now and she might be a big help so stop fighting" and they stop for the time being.

Que travel sequence with both parties having shenanigans

Leon and Sonia fighting

Hop and Bede fighting

Marnie honestly vibing

Piers being tired of everything and rethinking his life choices

Raihan honesty having to be the middle man before snapping himself and now all three of them are not on good terms ( oh you thought it was just gonna be Alexis x Leon angst? Ha! The games gave me both to much and to little content to work with. Suffer)

Another perspective change but it's Alexis this time!!!!!

In the game canon he had a relatively light scar on his right eye. Well now it's worse :)

In this Au he was cursed by a certain green haired man( Ghetsis) (I'm going to dread tagging this aren't I ), who was an evil warlock and king( or Alexis' Homeland and by force I must add)that Alexis defeated cause he was once a hero

Bascically he's cursed to have the appearance and abilities to a half-dragon

So for the most part he looks human with a few things akin to Zekrom minus the tail.

To be specific his arms and legs are both seemingly chard black, with slightly visible lightning marks. they glow blue when he's using magic/ his powers. His eyes ( well eye) is like Zekrom's

While that sounds cool, his new abilities give Alexis a lot of pain, as his body isn't suited for it

And because big that he can't really control his new powers so he's not only hurting himself but also those around him.

As much as I want to go the route of he runs away from his family and friends to look for a cure and protect them this guy Formerly had no clue how magic worked he just used it, so he had to ask those around him who did to help him

Which involves the dragon that everyone is looking for as it is said to sap energy of any kind, which would reverse his curse.

This dragon is called Eternatus

The problem is that this same dragon is known to to use it's energy to cause destruction around it and Alexis is like yeah no, and goes off to find another way with Elliot and N since both Cheren and Bianca have they're own duties and N knows about the curse being Ghetsis' son

The compass is magic and it's away for each of them to tell where the other is and use for communication

It's also used to detect magic!

So yeah this compass is very important

Along they're travels the twins have this very strange dream regarding Naomi but they notice that A) she's wearing a necklace that was once owned by their uncle before he moved away to start a family.

So they rightfully assume that this girl is their cousin

The second thing they notice is that Eternatus is literally right behind her and is causing her A LOT of pain.

Bascically she's begging them to come save her because she's gonna die if they don't

If your wondering why she didn't contact Hop it's because she assumed that Hop had forgotten about her so she thought it would be pointless. Not the spirits/ the wolves though!

So know the twins have no choice but to go find Eternatus and rescue Naomi because why wouldn't they she's in trouble and they're cousin !!!!

So they tell N the gist and make they're way to the kingdom that Leon rules and Alexis bumps into Leon yada yada yada you get it

And after that they leave for Eternatus.

I have a lot more ideas but this is getting waaaaay to long so I'm just gonna make a part 2/ part 10.

Seriously this is very fun to think about as I love the fantasy genre.

TDLR: This is awfully specific for something that's supposed to be very vague. Also Lore Keeper Sonia my Beloved ( I know I didn't talk about her much but just know I love her dearly)

If anyone have any ideas or just want to brainstorm with me, feel free to tell me!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Self Destruct.”

Lol, wrote this one because I was thinking about it and it seemed liek aliens would find it sort of weird. Also they are totally stupid if they don’t take advantage of it :) 

The club was dark, an electronic human beat thundered through the floor as neon lights flashed and faded in time with the music. They kept it like that to keep off unwanted visitors. Generally only humans, Drev and Tesraki were willing to come into such an establishment. It tended to keep away all the goodie goodies who were to logical or law-abiding to see the true value of running under the radar.

Plus the music was loud enough, ad the humans were strange enough that they tended to draw the attention away from other aliens, and as far as the humans went, you just made sure to have half naked humans, and that generally dealt with anyone else who might be eavesdropping. Kinda hard to concentrate when your baser instincts are taking over.

It was with these rules and precautions in place that the syndicate met with each other, under the throbbing pulse  of the club’s beat, and the glowing light of neon.

There were five of them all together.

There were two Tesraki. One a young female with velvety black fur sitting cuddled close to a serious-faced dark-skinned human. He didn’t seem to notice her clinging to his arm as she was. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice much, a distant far-away look in his eyes either the product of cortical damage or the ravages of drugs though he was big, and acted as a good deterrent for anyone, human, or otherwise who might think about approaching uninvited.

Just to the side of them were two drev, one of them a mysterious pearlescent silver, and the other a rare sheen of black run up and down with strange rainbow light. He kept quiet his head down towards the table.

The last figure sat at the head of the table. A tesraki, tawny in color. One of his ears was rather mangled flopped constantly to one side and unable to move as the other was. He was missing a finger on his left hand leaving him with only three fingers, though all seven of his remaining digits were covered in rings and jewels. His beady black eyes blinked int the strobing of the neon lights.

“Well, do you have it.”

The dark furred Drev glowered at him while stroking her large human companion’s arm, “Payment first.”

The tesraki snarled, “Like I would trust you with payment.”

“Then at least let me make sure you have the credits.” She patted the human’s arm. If you don’t I will be forced to ask Z to deal with you, and he doesn't like having to deal with people.” 

Noctus snarled, but pulled a bag of credits from his belt and tossed it onto the table, a few of them spilling out onto it’s clear reflective surface dancing with the blue and pink neon lights overhead.

She reached out a hand beady black eyes wide with greed, but her hand was slapped away, “Now my information.”

She sighed but leaned back in her chair, “What do you want first, the object or the other information.”

“Why not talk about the object first.”

She shrugged, “No big deal. You’ll be able to find it in one of the shops on fifth three days from tomorrow. At that point it will be at its most vulnerable, and you will be able to take it without too much difficulty. Between the times of high sun, and a first moon low, security will be minimal, and anyone talented enough will be able to get in and take it. Now ... coming into the real problem, is actually getting out.”

Noctus crossed his arms, “Go on.” A group of loud drunken humans stumbled into the room adding a greater degree of chaos to the room.

“The GA has caught wind of our activities….”

Noctus groaned head thudding against the table as he rested his forehead against the cold glass.

“Expect to see some old friends of yours, Noctis.” The silver drev teased her yellow eyes squinted with amusement and pleasure at the Tesraki’s expense.

The dark female nodded, “Expect it. I heard rumors that they have THOSE humans working on it while they do repairs in our port. Usually I wouldn’t agree to something this dangerous now that THEY are involved, but…. That was before I heard about this thing.” She patted the big human’s arm.

“Well go on, don’t leave us in suspense.”

She grinned, “My informants have given me words, about something that could change the way we interact with humans. A last resort against their power and speed when all else is lost. It is guaranteed to work on at least fifty percent of the human population.”

“Only fifty percent.” Noctus demanded.

She frowned at him, “that’s fifty percent of humans YOU don’t have to deal with. Now let me finish.” She adjusted herself and continued, “I am told that this simple trick CAN incapacitate a human for up to an hour. You see, the way that some humans are built its like they have a natural…. Self destruct button, and if you can hit it, you win. Granted it isn’t likely to kill them, but making and injuring is a possibility.”

“And how does this help. If you are that close to a human than you are probably already dead anyway.” 

She waved a hand, “that is not the important part.” She reached behind her back and pulled out a little devie, something like a drone but not quite, “You remember this little gadget don’t you.”

“Isn’t that one of those self defence items for use against humans.”

She grinned and nodded, “This one is specific to the use of pressure points on the body as you will recall.” 

“Yeah, but it's not lethal, and my colleagues have shown that most humans can fight through it. And the way it was programmed immediately has the authorities raining down on us if we try to program it for more LETHAL things.”

She grinned at him, “Oh, but that is the beauty about this little piece of information. It isn’t lethal, but it has an extremely high incapacitation rate,  AND because it is not lethal, or even known to most of the GA, nothing is sanctioned against it. In essence, we have found a loophole.”

There was a pause around the room, “And has it been programmed into this device?”

She nodded another smug grin pushing it across the table, “Already done. Now it is up to your dark friend there to get things done.” She glanced towards the black Drev who sa brooding in his corner.

Slowly, and with one of his four arms, he reached out and picked up the object  kneading it in his four fingers, “Do you think you can do it?” Noctus demanded.

“Think, no. I know.”

***

The alarm sounded behind him as he slithered through the gap between two buildings and into a back alley. His dark carapace shimmered in the neon lights from billboards overhead, and he could hear the roaring of voices from down the street.  He recognized most of them as human.

He glanced over his shoulder having expected to be pursued, but he didn’t see anyone.

He turned back to the front alley breaking into a jog over the cold metal feet thudding quietly. He was almost there when, a shadow moved into the gap in front of him. In comparison to himself it was rather small, but the bipedal two armed nature of the creature made him pull to a stop.

He had expected this.

The human stepped from the shadows. He was tall for a human, but short compared to even the shortest Drev. He had tawny yellow fur atop his head, and was missing an eye. If what they said was true, he was also missing a leg. His face was mottled with the blue green luminance of the UV light playing along invisible stripes within his skin.  That same blue green glowed inside that single green eye. 

The fact that he was here didn’t exactly bode well for their little operation.

“Jeeajish daeen! Neh’hastish!” 

He was momentarily shocked into stillness surprised at hearing the drev language spoken by the squishy creature. 

He paused in place, “I have never met a human who could speak Drev before.”

The human stepped forward blue neon light highlighting the right side of his face, pink neon light lighting the left, “Well, now you have. I suggest you get on the ground and put your hands in the air before I am forced to do it for you.”

“Only you?” He wondered

“Je, zhe s nee tadi.” 

He turned in a sharp circle towards the second alley to his right to find the small female Drev stepping from the shadows, her beautiful luminescent blue dampened somewhat by the fluorescent yellow light at her back.

The human stepped closer, “I don’t suggest trying her unless you want to be humiliated.” 

The Drev turned back to the human reaching discreetly behind his back, “Oh, I don’t plan on it.” he pressed his finger into the trigger, and the little drone shot out from his hand.

***

Adam felt the impact a good five seconds before the pain set in. He had even gone to take a step thinking he would be ok, but knew he was wrong when his vision faded to grey.

***

The Drev thought it hadn’t worked at first. The human looked surprised , and then his skin slowly went white the rosy undertone fading from his face before he collapsed to the ground. He didn’t bother to look back racing forward and leaping over the human’s fallen body.” 

***

Death, death was upon him. He was going to die…. He wanted to die. It came in throbbing waves of agony through his innards. Like getting the wind knocked out of you but worse because at the same time he felt the overwhelming need to vomit. He barely recalled hitting the ground, but there it was right next to his face as he gagged and gasped curled into a ball on the cold metal of a filthy back alleyway. His vision was fuzzy and dark around the edges, so he barely noticed as a dark for leaped over him and raced into the crowd. He heaved again nears springing to his eyes with the horrific pain as if all his bowels were about to go shooting out of his body while his lungs refused to expand.

***

Sunny didn’t see what happened, one minute Adam had been facing off against the dark Drev, the next moment he had been on the ground while the other drev was escaping. She raced after him, but stopped upon coming to her fallen companion. Adam lay on the filthy ground curled into a tight ball. A high pitched sort of keening was breaking from his mouth as he rocked back and forth on the ground. That was only occasionally broken by the coughing and gagging. He was as pale as a sheet and tears were dripping from his exposed eye, which was squeezed shut. Little beads of sweat were rolling from his hairline and clinging to his skin. 

Sunny stopped in place and keyed her mic in frustration, “Man down! He’s getting away. He did something to Adam.” She tried to place a hand on Adam’s shoulder, but the human snarled at her swiping away her hand before curling back into a ball. Sunny leaned back in shock and surprise. She had never seen a human go that feral before.

“Maintaining pursuit.” Maverick panted over the radio.

Boots thundered against the ground down the alleyway, and sunny looked up to find team 2, headed by ramirez run into the alley.

The olive-skinned human pulled to a stop upon seeing the scene eyes going wide and then grimacing, “Oh shit.”

“What is going on.” Sunny demanded.

Ramirez walked over, “Ur…. he will be ok… hopefully.” he grimaced as he watched his friend writhe on the ground at his feet. Sunny saw his hands twitch, and he had gone almost as pale as Adam. Sunny had never seen an empathy reaction that obvious before.

***

He took another corner grinning to himself. It had worked, it had worked like a charm, the creepy little Tesraki hadn’t been wrong, and now he was pretty sure he had lost his pursuit. He turned another corner and skidded to a halt as another human blocked his path. This one was even shorter than the first by almost a foot, practically puny, compared to a drev. She too had a sort of white tawny hair and glittering hazel eyes. 

“Go on, try it. I'll kick your ass either way.” He smirked reaching behind his back and pressing the little button on the drone.

The human staggered back curling forward and yelping in pain, “SHIT!”

He waited for her to go down, but after a moment she straightened up face twisted into an expression of anger, “Ouch…” She snarled, and then ran at him.

***

Andam was getting ready to beg god to end him right there, when the horrific pain started to dull. He no longer needed to throw up, and he could breathe again. But walking was out of the question. Uncurling form his ball, he saw he was surrounded by a group of grimacing marines. 

Ramirez knelt next to him, “You ok.”

He grimaced trying to make a coherent thought, “They…. Know.”

He sighed, “They were bound to figure it out at some point.”

***

They were expecting Maverick, and for such reason were not surprised one she showed up dragging the incapacitated Drev behind her in power restraints. Her face was sort of twisted into an expression of mild discomfort and she threw the drev onto the ground at their feet, “I caught him.”

Adam looked up from where he was sitting, still looking green, on a discarded crate in the side of the alley.

“What do we know.” Ramirez asked

She smirked, “Apparently, dipshit here was told that his little device here.” She held it up, “Had the power to incapacitate fifty percent of the human population, apparently he didn’t stop to tell hi WHICH fifty percent of the population it wouldn't work on.” She grimaced again, “Not that it didn’t hurt, bastard.” 

Adam lowered his head with a groan.

Maverick patted his arm, “hopefully you don’t lose anything.”

“My pride…. My dignity.” He moaned.

 “Too late.”

Too bad the aliens hadn’t figured out who it would work on. It’s not everyday you learn a weakness that applies to fifty percent of a species. 

However now fifty percent of the human population was in…. Mild to moderate danger. 

Is not everyday that aliens have power over humans

[artificialqueens]

Everybody Knows You're High, 2/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

“And on the deck while I waited for her to get dressed, I sparked up another one and I was such a mess that I confess that my professor wouldn’t look me in the eye…”

Summary: Raja has a great time at her philosophy class this week, Manila strategically turns the whole situation into a joke, but their attempts to one-up each other go a little too far…

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the term ‘making out,’ and how vague and ridiculous it is lmao. thank you V&albatross for the shoutout!

tw: weed

Raja forgot that it was a Tuesday and smoked a huge blunt just after noon, before remembering that she had to leave for class in fifteen minutes. Uh oh.

But luckily Professor A. O’Hara’s philosophy class was a lecture and that meant Raja didn’t need to participate, she could just sit in the low-lit room, stare at the slides and let the words wash over her. Which was totally doable while high. Also, Manila was in that class, so Raja didn’t want to skip it.

Pleasantly hazy, Raja threw an open button-up shirt over her tank top, wandered over to Manila’s house a few doors down and knocked on the door.

Manila answered, her face pink and sweaty, her fantastic legs clad in neon green leggings.

“I just got back from the gym,” said Manila, “I still need to change, just give me a sec-“

“Sure,” said Raja, leaning casually against the porch railing. Manila looked pretty cute, all warm and sweaty like that. Raja reached into her front pocket and found a tiny little joint she must have forgotten in there the last time she’d worn this shirt.

Well, she was already high, so why the hell not? Raja sighed happily, thanking whatever deities had decided to smile upon her today as she fished her lighter out of her shorts, and lit up.

Manila came back out a few minutes later, in a neat little corduroy skirt that hugged her hips, shirt tucked in, and said, “Oh my god, are you getting high right now?”

“Yeah,” replied Raja, happy and content, “I forgot it was Tuesday and started earlier, figured I may as well lean in, right?”

Manila rolled her eyes and shook her head, then locked the door.

They walked together to campus in the warm sun, and Raja began to feel soft, even a little loopy, like she needed to slow down…

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late,” urged Manila, walking ahead of her.

“Nah, just slow down a bit,” murmured Raja in response. The sun was catching in Manila’s hair again, the black curls shining with an almost reddish-orange highlight.

“Are you related to any gingers?” asked Raja, blithely.

“Uh, my uncle on my mom’s side,” replied Manila, “And so is one of my cousins. Why?”

“Your hair has this kinda red highlight in the sun…”

Manila laughed and it was a happy sound that Raja quite liked. But then Manila went behind Raja and pushed her, her hands on Raja’s back as she hustled her rapidly down the sidewalk, which Raja liked a little less. They finally got into the building and managed to make it to class with only seconds to spare.

Raja entered the dark room, supremely comfortable and chill, and took her usual seat. Manila sat next to her, taking out her neat little notebook and pen to take notes. She was so organized, Raja admired that about her.

Professor O’Hara greeted the class and hit the lights to begin the lecture. Raja smiled and nodded and basked in the weird glow of the PowerPoint while Manila diligently took notes next to her. The words washed over them both.

After the lecture was done and the lights turned back on, Professor O’Hara took questions from the class. Raja found she had a question too, and raised her hand.

“Don’t draw attention to yourself-“ hissed Manila next to her, trying to grab Raja’s hand and force it back down.

But Professor O’Hara has already addressed her, so Raja batted Manila off and opened her mouth.

“Uh, so…” began Raja, leaning forward and putting her chin in her hand, pausing for what she was sure was only a couple seconds. An amused murmur rippled through the crowd. “So, when Plato talks about you know, duality, what if-“

Raja wasn’t sure where she was going with her question, but she was confident it was going somewhere, and kept talking. Professor O’Hara had an amused expression on her face, and pressed her lips together, not quite making eye contact. Next to Raja, Manila slid lower in her seat and shielded her eyes with her hand.

“…so like, isn’t that connected to Aristotle’s original idea about being?” finished Raja.

Muffled laughter sounded throughout the class. What was so funny?

Professor O’Hara blinked, and cocked her head to the side, then said, “Well, to everyone’s surprise that’s actually an excellent question, Raja-“ and proceeded to answer it.

Raja glowed with the praise, nodding her head slowly as Professor O’Hara answered her question, and further elaborated on the content of the lecture, which inspired more questions from the class. Raja remained pleasantly blazed. Coming to class like this had been a great idea after all-

Soon enough it was over, and Raja yawned, sleepy, and stretched as Manila put her things back in her bag.

“Raja,” said Manila with resignation, hoisting her backpack to her shoulder, while the rest of the class filed out around them, throwing amused glances in Raja’s direction, “Everybody knows you’re high.”

“Mmm…” replied Raja, content, getting up from her seat and tripping a little on the edge of the chair, “Yeah, this time I don’t care.”

-

The problem with Raja, considered Manila as they walked back down the street together after class and Raja prattled away, happy and stoned, was that from the day they’d met Manila wanted throw her against the wall, furiously make out with her, have insanely hot sex in every imaginable way, move in together, start their lives, be completely and utterly in love, have like four kids and three dogs, raise them, retire, get old, and die together. 

Obviously that was a little much. 

Manila had quickly learned that her desperate fantasy seemed to be the exact opposite of what Raja was looking for. Raja’s priorities seemed to consist of getting stoned, getting laid, playing video games and going to class. Apparently in that order. So, they became good friends instead, along with Delta and Carmen, and had an excellent friendship that involved terrible humour, petty competition, and affectionately roasting one another to death. Given that Raja had never shown any romantic interest in her, Manila did her best to shove her feelings to the back of her mind. She wasn’t going to ruin a great friendship with her idiotic feelings, god forbid!

So, not that Raja randomly asking her to make out the other day had thrown Manila’s world off its axis anything, just… ugh.

They kept walking, and Raja kept talking to herself. Admittedly, she was making some great points about Plato.

“Carmen’s kinda mad at you, by the way,” said Raja, turning to her. Her deep brown eyes were a little bloodshot, but still shockingly intense and beautiful.

“Why?” asked Manila, glancing at the blue, open sky instead. It was a lovely day.

“��Cause you unlocked metallic Peach the other day. She wanted to unlock metallic Peach.”

“Tell her the day she beats me at literally one round of Smash Bros is the day I’ll stop unlocking stuff for her,” said Manila.

“This is just as bad as the Mario Kart Incident last April,” said Raja, who was still looking at her, and then added, in an apparent non-sequitur, “Hey, has anyone ever told you you’re like really pretty?”

“Yeah, my mom,” replied Manila sarcastically, but her heart beat a little faster with the compliment.

“No, come on!” replied Raja, with a blissed-out expression and a goofy smile, “You are, though. Your hair is like so nice-“

Manila didn’t know what to say. Getting this kind of attention from Raja wasn’t something she’d anticipated happening, it was making her feel vulnerable and a little turned on, and she wanted to believe that it meant something… but doubt congealed in her stomach. It didn’t mean anything beyond a casual, well-intentioned, platonic expression of attraction. This was just how Raja was.

“Shut up!” laughed Manila semi-hysterically, impulsively pushing Raja in response. Raja was stoned and off-balance enough that she tripped and fell into the neighbour’s garden with an indignant squawk. Manila felt bad for a split second, then laughed out loud.

“Hey!” protested Raja, picking herself up from the enormous hosta plant she’d fallen into, her long black hair in her face, “I thought you liked me!”

“I do like you, you don’t need to worry about that!” said Manila over her shoulder, maintaining a joking attitude and walking up the steps to her house.

“You’re the worst,” whined Raja, making a face, then flipping her off in a friendly goodbye. Manila returned the gesture.

Manila went inside and got a snack from the kitchen, said hi to her roommate Shangela who’d just gotten out of the shower, and went into her room. Manila dropped her backpack to the ground and flopped down on her bed. 

It was simple: Raja was blazed as usual and messing with her, that was all. But if there was anything Manila was good at, it was messing with people in return.

-

Raja wasn’t used to being rejected. She was, after all, very cool, extremely sexy, highly intelligent and always had weed. Clearly a catch! But apparently not to Manila. Raja knew Manila liked her, Manila had specifically said so the other day! They were already friends, they understood each other’s humour, and they hung out regularly, which was half the battle when it came to getting involved with somebody, even casually.

So, at Morgan’s Hallowe’en party, Raja found herself on the enormous, crumby couch, passing a blunt back and forth with Manila and several others. Some mid-2000s hip hop music played in the background, and way too many people were packed into the space in ridiculous costumes. Manila was pressed in next to her on the crowded couch. Earlier Raja had noted Raven somewhere at the other end of the house, pointedly ignoring her, which was ideal.

Manila somehow managed to look incredibly cute while dressed as Weird Al Yankovic, fake moustache and all, which was a feat in and of itself. Raja was dressed as Raoul Duke from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, because she related to him on a spiritual level, and already had the sunglasses for it. Their dumb costumes even matched, both featuring ugly Hawaiian shirts. Manila was cracking a joke with Carmen on her other side, and Raja figured this was as good an opportunity as any. Raja slung a casual arm around Manila, passed the blunt back to her and whispered in her ear, “Do you wanna make out?”

Manila put the blunt to her lips and inhaled deeply, the end glowing orange as Raja waited with anticipation for her answer, excitement mounting in her stomach.

With a smirk, Manila blew a lungful of smoke into Raja’s face, then she rested her hand on Raja’s thigh, and leaned in. Raja’s heartbeat accelerated.

Manila shut her eyes and Raja shut hers too, barely able to believe it was happening. Manila’s lips brushed against hers, soft, thrilling, just the barest hint of contact-

Manila pulled back abruptly, and Raja opened her eyes, confused. 

Manila gave her an absolutely shit-eating grin and declared, “Nope!”

Raja’s jaw, along with her mood, dropped with disappointment. An odd moment passed between them. Through her haze Raja realized, with Manila’s shit-eating grin and her hand on still suggestively on her thigh, that Manila was mocking her. Raja, totally stoned, asking her to make out with for a second time with the exact same line had inevitably, painfully, become a joke. 

Raja huffed, insulted, and turned away. Manila cackled.

On Raja’s other side someone new sat down, a pretty, athletic and tanned girl with dirty blonde hair, her amazing body in clad in what was basically red lingerie and devil horns. Raja recognized her, she was that girl a year or two below them who went running with Manila sometimes. She was laughing, her head thrown back, at something another blonde beside her was saying.

Raja tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Hey, you’re cute, do you wanna make out?”

The girl blinked at her in shock, and then grinned, and said, “Uh, oh my god, yeah.”

“Great.”

“Damn, you’re so direct, I’ve had a crush on you like forev-”

Raja ignored her, took her face in her hands and leaned in. Their lips met and the girl let out an excited gasp. She tasted like Jack Daniels and smelled like tropical perfume. Nice. And she was a great kisser, with an enthusiastic and knowing tongue. The girl’s warm hands immediately went to Raja’s shoulders. Around them a few people oohed and laughed, and Raja caressed the girl’s lower back and practically pulled her into her lap. Raja’s bucket hat fell off the back of her head.

Manila was still laughing at something on Raja’s other side, but her laughter stopped abruptly, and Raja felt the couch shift as Manila stood up. Raja broke the kiss for a moment and glanced over her shoulder in time to see Manila stomp away, furious jealousy in every line of her body, throwing her fake glasses to the floor.

That’s right, burn.

Smug, Raja went back to making out with the blonde chick in her lap, their hands wandering all over each other until someone yelled at them to get a room. May as well. Raja got up and led the girl into Morgan’s messy bedroom and shut the door.

“You know you’re like a legend around here, right?” chuckled the blonde girl, grasping the edge of Raja’s shirt and pulling her down onto the bed with her, “By the way, my name’s Willam-”

“That’s nice,” replied Raja, crawling on top of her, kissing her neck and getting down to business.

-

It became an inside joke.

Manila had barely managed to pull it off, because coming so close to kissing Raja had been horribly thrilling, (electric, overwhelming, transcendent), and she’d wanted so badly for it to be real, to be anything other than just a stoned-and-low-key-horny suggestion on Raja’s part-

So, despite Manila’s burst of jealousy over Raja’s makeout session at the Hallowe’en party with Willam, her gym buddy of all people, their friendship remained strong and uninterrupted. Manila didn’t hold it against Willam either, who’d been all too happy to talk about it at their next cardio and gossip session, because Raja was generally irresistible. Manila sure as hell wasn’t going to let it get to her. After all, this kind of thing was in the nature of a friendship that largely consisted of roasting each other to death over a high-octane flame.

As the week passed the joke got even funnier. Raja got over sulking about it, and started purposefully asking Manila to make out at the most hilarious, awkward, and inopportune times.

For example:

Playing Smash Bros at Raja’s house late on a Saturday night with Delta and Carmen, everybody squashed on the couch: “Can we make out if I win?” “As if you’d ever beat me, bitch.” “It’s true Raja, you kind of suck at Nintendo-” “Shut up!”

Hollered across the quad, much to Manila’s embarrassment and Raja’s enjoyment, in front of a crowd of freshman, “Hey Manila, you wanna come over here and make out!?” “Go shove your tongue down somebody else’s throat!” “Aw, rude!”

In the hallway after class, just as Professor O’Hara walked by, loudly: “Wanna come back to my place and make out?” “Oh my god, Raja!” “Ladies.” “Sorry, professor!”

Whispered in the library, “Do you wanna go into the stacks and make out?” “Write your essay.” “I’m done, though-“ “What, already!?”

Even Delta and Carmen got in on it, and Manila had to dodge the question from them too. Teasing, sexy requests of, Hey, wanna make out, Manila? followed her around, as Manila clapped back hilarious retorts to gales of laughter. It was fun and Manila rode the wave of attention with aplomb.

Manila figured that this particular’s joke’s shelf life would only last as long as any other and would soon fade into oblivion, replaced by whatever came next, and Manila would never have to address or bring to light her feelings for Raja.

In her opinion, she’d handled the situation perfectly. And Manila praised herself for it as she ran her usual route, glancing up at Raja’s house as she ran by.

But every night before she fell asleep, a little voice tugged at the back of her brain and said, maybe you shouldn’t mock people when they express attraction to you, that’s kind of fucked up, and she’s your friend, maybe she actually does like you back- Manila aggressively quashed it.

-

“Hey, so,” said Raja, on the way to the library with Manila to buckle down and write their philosophy papers together as the end of term approached, “Why don’t you want to make out with me? Like, I’m a total catch.”

It hadn’t previously occurred to her to ask, but maybe this would help her get a leg up on the situation. Ideally Manila’s leg. Ideally up on her shoulder while Raja ate her out, and Manila blushed pink like she sometimes did, and tangled her hands in Raja’s hair, and gasped and arched her back and- that was neither here nor there. As hilarious as it was, the joke had been driving Raja a little insane. If Manila had said, in any seriousness, that she wanted Raja to stop asking, Raja would have. But she hadn’t, Manila had leaned in to the silly, flirtatious back and forth. 

Instead of forgetting about it, the endless teasing and parody of the matter had only reinforced what Raja wanted in the first place.

“Well,” said Manila after a pause, adjusting her heavy bag and glancing at the cloudy sky, “You don’t take school very seriously.”

“What?” laughed Raja, who’d been expecting something more along the lines of I’m genuinely not attracted to you or I think I want to date guys again, “Is that really it? I totally do!”

“No you don’t, you’re a huge stoner.”

“Yeah but thats just for fun, I’m like really smart,” replied Raja, grinning, “You should see my GPA.”

“Mmm no, you’re real dumb,” sassed Manila. She shook her head and her curly hair, up in a high ponytail again today, bounced with the motion and Raja wanted to run her fingers through it. “You’re a total goofball and everyone knows it. You show up to class high! I have like a 3.82, and I want to keep it there.”

“How would making out with me affect your grades?”

“They say you are what you eat…”

They both exploded into laughter, causing the other students walking down the busy campus path to throw irritated glances their way.

“Bitch,” replied Raja, elbowing her, “A 3.82 is nothing-”

“Hey, no,” protested Manila, stopping and turning to her, “It’s like really good, don’t talk down my accomplishments just because you’re jealous-“

“I have a 3.91.”

Manila opened and shut her mouth in shock, before responding, “No you don’t, you’re lying.”

“No I’m not.”

“Prove it.”

“Sure,” chuckled Raja, taking out her phone and going to the school website, launching the grading centre, pulling up her current transcript and grade point average, “Look.”

Raja handed Manila her phone, gloating. The screen read 3.91847. Manila took it and her eyes narrowed, and she scrolled up to check that it was actually Raja’s name at the top, then back down again. 

“Guess I do take school seriously,” taunted Raja, unable to suppress the urge to tease her.

With unexpected force, Manila shoved the phone back into Raja’s hands.

“Whatever!” snapped Manila, rushing ahead furiously.

“Hey, where are you going?” called Raja after her, laughing, “Don’t be mad just ‘cause I get better grades than you-“

“I’ll see you at the library!” snarled Manila over her shoulder, power walking down the street.

Raja watched Manila walk away, pleased that she’d proven her wrong her but confused as to why she was so mad. Raja wandered into the little smoking area with a couple of scraggly trees and fished in her bag for a tiny joint she’d hidden there earlier. She found it and lit up, inhaling the comforting smoke. Just a little something to help get those creative and intellectual juices flowing…

-

After a few hours of work in the library while Raja pumped dreamwave tunes through her headphones directly into her skull and wrote her philosophy paper, she looked up and noticed Manila sighing deeply for like the fourth time.

“What’s up?” whispered Raja, taking her headphones off.

“Nothing,” whispered Manila back. Her eyebrows were scrunched together.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Raja put her headphones back on, without music, and wrote a few more sentences, pausing to check her references. She was going to get a hundred percent on this paper, she already knew it. Raja had been a bit of a child prodigy in terms of reading and writing comprehension, and her memory, her research skills, her grasp of history, literature, sociology and philosophy were outstanding. Her two dads were loving and supportive hippies who let her do whatever she wanted, so her sense of freedom and confidence had soared throughout her college career along with her grades.

“I can’t believe you have a higher GPA than me,” complained Manila, under her breath.

Raja took her headphones off again and gloated, “Yep, this huge stoner right here is better at school than you.”

Manila glared at her, then sighed again. Raja smirked, but her face fell, because Manila actually looked sad. And tired. There were lines under her eyes. Sympathy tugged at Raja’s stomach. 

“Well, a 3.82 is really good,” began Raja, shutting her laptop and leaning forward, “Like, it’s above average-”

“Don’t be patronizing,” said Manila, shaking her head, closing her laptop and gathering up her books, “I can’t work on this anymore, let’s head out.”

“Okay, sure,” said Raja, getting up. A few people at other tables were glaring at them anyway, angry about the interruption of the silence. Raja wanted to make Manila feel better, and wondered how.

They left the library, walking together through the dark evening in the direction of home. It was a clear night, and the stars were just visible. Raja dug around in her bag for a joint but couldn’t find one.

“I have that good spicy instant ramen and Cheetos at home,” suggested Raja after a few minutes, “It’s not that late if you want to come over.“

“So we can make out?” added Manila sarcastically.

“No,” replied Raja, “Just to like decompress, I dunno, I’m hungry, I thought you might be too…”

“Do you ever eat vegetables?”

“Weed is a plant.”

Manila laughed and shook her head.

“What’s bothering you?” pressed Raja. 

“I try like, really hard,” said Manila, after a pause, “I take college seriously, and my parents have such high expectations of me, I just- I put so much work into it and you-” Manila gestured at her, “You fucking coast, Raja. Look at yourself. You get stoned all the time, you party and play Nintendo. And honestly, you treat the girls you date like they’re disposable, Raven’s reaction wasn’t that unreasonable… but everyone still likes you, you somehow have a perfect GPA and you look amazing-”

“Yeah, I do look amazing,” agreed Raja, with a smile. She decided to ignore the middle part of what Manila had said.

“-and you have the self-awareness of a fruit bat.”

Raja looked carefully at Manila. Her expression was tired and frustrated, the orange glow of the streetlight catching in her hair. Despite the way they constantly roasted one another, Raja cared about her, and it saddened her to hear that Manila was feeling the pressure of… well, everything.

Self-awareness. Hmm. Raja could work on that. Maybe that was the key to getting Manila to see that she wasn’t joking, that Raja genuinely, unexpectedly, to her own surprise, really liked her.

“So,” said Raja, as they approached her house, the living room light shining like a beacon, indicating that Delta or Carmen was still up, “Instant ramen and Cheetos? You can kick my ass at Smash Bros, that always makes you feel better.”

“You know what, sure,” replied Manila, rolling her eyes, a smile at the edge of her mouth, “I’m gonna hand you your ass on a silver platter, bitch. Especially since you always insist on playing as Yoshi for some reason…”

Raja smiled to herself as they went up the front steps to her door.