#i wrote some sad shit...

[filthycockroach]

Pst hey...

Psssssst heeeeey!

Hey there!

I'm glad I caught your attention, now please...

READ MY FIC!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32886685

Ah, ✨childhood trauma✨

[rambheem-is-real]

Cross My Heart Pt 1

pairing: kid varadha x kid deva

Summary:

Deva barely makes it a few feet out of the arena before he collapses from the pain. His family and Varadha have things to say when he wakes up.

breaking news: in a *shocking* twist of events, touching a live wire can in fact fuck you up

-

Deva walks out of the arena, feeling like his nerves are vibrating inside of him. He can taste thick, coppery blood through his teeth, there’s a ringing in his ears, and there’s a searing pain across his shoulders that he knows means there’ll probably be a scar later. He can barely see five feet in front of him, his vision is so blurry. 

But he can’t show weakness now, not after everything he’s done. 

He’s gotten Varadha his mukku pogu back, had won it for his prince. That bastard had dared to lay a hand on him, to take what rightfully belonged to Varadha, but with what he’s done today Deva knows Rudra won’t go after Varadha for a while. 

However, that depends on Deva staying strong now. He’s in no position to fight, he’s aware that he probably fucked something up internally, but he had tried to project enough confidence and anger into his warning to Rudra that he hopes the act was convincing enough. 

Keep going, he wills himself, begging the adrenaline coursing through him to not abandon him right now. 

Deva can see Varadha’s proud smile out of the corner of his eye, the bounce in his step that was missing this morning when he sought Deva out, nose bare. He can’t let Varadha know how badly it hurts, knows his friend will blame himself for it when it wasn’t his fault at all. 

They make it past the gates of the arena, thankfully not followed by Rudra or his lackeys. Varadha beams at Deva, and opens his mouth, probably to say something adorable as usual, when Deva feels the last of the hormones leave him. Varadha’s joyful face morphs quickly into horror as Deva lurches forward, catching Deva in his arms. He cries out as Varadha grabs at his sensitive shoulders, and feels Varadha tense at the sound. 

Fuck, Deva thinks. His plan of not letting Varadha know was a bust. The world fades to black along with Varadha’s panicked cries of Deva’s name. Sorry raa, Deva thinks before he finally blacks out from the pain. 

-

Deva wakes up feeling like he got hit by a bus, with a headache the size of Mars, but at least that infernal ringing noise is gone. His vision is still blurry, but not as bad as it was the last time he was awake. It’s enough to make out the figure of his father sitting on a chair beside the bed Deva’s laying on, looking worried somewhere above Deva’s head. There are voices from that direction, and Deva focuses to hear his mother and.. Varadha? arguing with another man. 

“What do you mean you can’t fix him?” Amma demands. 

The man, probably a doctor, sounds nervous in the face of Amma’s anger as he tries to placate her. “I’m sorry, but the shock he went through will have long term consequences. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“You’re the doctor though, isn’t it your job to fix people?” Varadha asks, and with a pang of guilt, Deva notes that his voice is rough, like he’s been crying for a long time. 

Deva tries to sit up, but realizes his muscles feel so heavy he doesn’t have the strength to move anything other than his head, and maybe if he tries hard, his hands. He tries to call Varadha’s name, but his throat closes up and he can only manage a truly pathetic cough. At the sound, everyone immediately crowds around him. 

“Deva, how are you feeling now?” Amma asks, clutching his face, and he can see tears in her eyes. 

“I’m okay, Amma,” Deva says, trying his best to project strength, and can see everyone visibly take a breath of relief. 

The doctor examines Deva briefly. “I’ll let you all talk to the patient first,” he says, gathering up the medical supplies haphazardly placed on the table next to Deva’s bed. “I’ll be back to do more tests soon.” 

As soon as the doctor leaves, Varadha throws himself on top of Deva, sobbing. Deva tries to comfort his friend, but he can barely lift his arm high enough to simply place his hand on top of Varadha’s soft curls. He looks up at his parents, trying to see what he should do, how he should comfort Varadha, but is met with two stony faces. Deva winces. 

Amma immediately starts yelling. “What were you thinking? Are you crazy?”

Dhaara joins in, voice thick with worry. “Touching a live wire like that!”

“The next time you pull something like this I’ll kick you out!”

“Varadha told us what happened-”

“Then you’ll know, once you feel what I felt when-”

“-could’ve died, you’re lucky the current wasn’t high enough to kill-”

The voices start overlapping as Deva’s headache worsens, and he shuts his eyes against the sensory overload. He also doesn’t really know what to say that will get him out of this, so he stays quiet. 

They pause for a few seconds, realizing Deva’s not listening.

“Deva,” Dhaara starts gently. “The doctor says you’re going to have complications for the rest of your life.”

Deva opens his eyes. “Like what?” Not like he really cares, but might as well know. 

His parents look at each other, then back at him, like they’re unsure of how he’ll take the news. 

“The doctor said you’ll have a lifetime of unpredictable muscle tremors and temporary paralysis. And that’s the bare minimum. You’ll still have to be tested for the next few weeks to make sure you don’t develop cataracts in your eyes, and see how badly the feathering marks across your shoulders scar.” Dhaara says, looking more and more devastated by the time he gets to the end. “You’ll also have to be monitored for any neurological damage.”

“Ok,” is all Deva replies. 

His silence seems to enrage Amma even more. “Do you even care? Who’ll take care of you when you’re old and paralyzed? Who’s going to marry you with those scars on your back?”

Dhaara winces. “Ammadi, why are you bothered about all that? He’s barely ten.”

“I’m his mother, of course I’ll bother about it! It’ll be me tending to him decades later if his condition worsens!”

“Of course I’ll be there too, he’s our son, we’ll both take care of him-”

“That’s not the point-”

Deva tunes them out once again, realizing that he’s regained enough strength in his fingers that he’s able to stroke through Varadha’s hair. I’d love to braid the hair if it gets longer, Deva thinks absently. He only knows the traditional Shouryanga ones, but he resolves to find out if there are any special Mannarsi braids. 

Dhaara is the first to quiet down, and gently mentions to Amma that they should calm down since Deva is still hurt.

Amma sniffles. “Ah, like he has that consideration for his poor parents. He doesn’t care if we live or die.” The tone makes Deva feel awful even though he knows she’s exaggerating. He refuses to feel regret, though. No matter how upset it makes his mother feel. He won’t ever regret defending Varadha, not even if he loses his life in the process. 

Dhaara sends one last worried look towards his son before he leads Amma out of the room to let Deva rest. 

By this time, Varadha’s sobs have quieted, and he turns his face to look up at Deva. His eyeliner is completely smudged, falling in black streams down his face, his cheeks are red and blotchy, and there’s snot in his nose from crying so hard. Deva thinks he’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

“Arey Vara,” he starts. 

Varadha sits up and quickly punches him in the chest again, making Deva recoil. 

“Ow, what the hell?”

Deva regrets every single time he’s teased Varadha for not being aggressive enough towards anyone he’s angry at as Varadha tears into him. 

“You absolute fucking buffoon! Look at the state of you, yedava [idiot]! What the hell were you even thinking?”

“Not you too,” Deva groans. 

“I thought you were fine!” Varadha cries. “You got up fine, you threatened Rudra and you were fine, you walked out fine, I thought you were FINE! And then you collapse in my arms, what the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Sorry raa.”

“No, that’s not enough! I had to carry you all the way back to your house, asshole! I thought you were about to die in my arms!” He’s close to tears again. “All for what, a fucking nose ring? Let him have it, I would rather have you, alive and well rather than a stupid nose ring!” 

Deva stubbornly looks through the window next to him. He’s fine apologizing for worrying Varadha, but if Varadha thinks he’ll get an apology for getting his nose ring back, he might as well give up now. Varadha’s too nice for his family, he needs someone like Deva who’s willing to get fucked up to make sure Varadha gets the respect he deserves. He may not see it that way, but that’s just Khansaar for the both of them. Only the strong survive in this place. 

“What, are you gonna give me the silent treatment too?” 

Deva avoids Varadha’s glare. He’s pretty much paralyzed right now, it’s not like he can do anything else. He can keep playing this game. 

Finally, Varadha gives in, and softens his voice. “Fine. Please raa, just promise me.” He lifts his hand up, and Deva looks over. “Promise me you’ll never do anything as reckless as this again for me.” Deva hates how desperate he sounds. He so wants to promise Varadha anything he wants, anything he asks for, never wants Varadha to cry again in this life if Deva can help it, but he can’t promise this.

Varadha seems to notice his hesitation. “Ok. Don’t promise. Just.. just say you’ll try your best. At least give me that.”

Deva sighs. It’s the best he’ll get. He tries to lift his arm up to put his hand in Varadha’s awaiting hand, but it takes him a few seconds to get there. He pretends not to notice the way Varadha’s face falls as he sees how badly Deva’s hand is shaking. 

“Fine. I’ll try my best to not be reckless again.” 

Varadha frowns. “Try to keep your word Deva, please. Don’t make me go through this again.” His voice drops into a whisper, and another tear slowly makes its way down Varadha’s face. “I thought I lost you.”

Deva doesn’t know how to respond to Varadha being this honest with him, this vulnerable. He’s never been good with comforting words, so he attempts to shrug and tell a joke to cheer Varadha up, but fights back a groan at the searing pain in his shoulders as he attempts to lift them. Varadha’s eyes track the movement and the subsequent twitch of pain, and Deva internally winces at the resurgence of guilt he can see in them. 

“Varadha… Rey. It wasn’t your fault. It was fully my decision to challenge the pailwan.” 

Varadha visibly debates responding to that, but seems to realize Deva’s just as stubborn as him, and gives up. “Whatever.” He fidgets for a few seconds, then comes to a decision. He looks Deva in the eyes. “I’ll always be there for you, raa. You know that, right?” 

“Of course I know that,” Deva says, confused.

Varadha shakes his head. “No, I mean, what your mom was saying earlier… she’s wrong. If this does fuck you up in the future, when you’re older, I’ll be there to take care of you. No matter what I’m doing, no matter where you are, I’ll find you, and I’ll be there for you.” There’s determination in his eyes, and Deva knows he meant what he said, every bit of it. 

Deva gives him a small smile, floored by the depth of affection Varadha has for him. 

Varadha frowns at his reaction. “Unbelievable. You actually thought I’d let you do something like this and then not take care of you afterwards. Yedava.” He settles back onto Deva’s chest. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, don’t worry.” Varadha moves so his ear is directly over Deva’s heart. Deva feels a warmth slowly expand inside him as he realizes Varadha’s trying to comfort himself by listening to Deva’s heartbeat. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” Varadha asks softly, tracing the feathering marks on the back of Deva’s arm. 

“Not at all,” Deva says, and Varadha scoffs, but is it even a lie? He gets to feel his Varadha’s cheek pressed into his chest, gets to hear him all but explicitly say that Deva is someone he genuinely loves and cares for. What more could he want? 

They sit in silence like that for a while, enjoying each other’s company. 

Before he slips back into unconsciousness, Deva can hear footsteps coming back into the room, then stopping abruptly. He knows Varadha is asleep by now, can feel the even pattern of his breaths, and he himself probably looks asleep as well. There’s silence, then a hushed “Dhaara, what are we going to do about this?”

Deva fights to stay awake, wants to hear the response to that, but is rapidly losing the battle.

The last thing he hears is an amused, “I suppose we’ll have to start being nicer to Raja Mannar, if he’s going to be part of our family in a few years.” 

-

[cheesecakezyum]

Ok so correct me if you've already done it, but about your demon courting thing: what about cooking and stuff? Like think about it - what better way to show how cool you are by showing you could provide for them!

PFFT— THIS. THIS IS THE QUESTION.

I think that Macaque would be an excellent cook. He’s had to provide for himself and himself only all these years, probably bound to have taken up some type of hobby or passion! Most definitely would make you breakfast or lunch if you were to ask him. Or would just force you to eat some of his cooking if he feels you haven’t eaten enough— or aren’t eating very nourishing food in general. He'll know. He always will.

However,

I would never advise letting Wukong get his grubby hands near your kitchen. He’d probably burn the whole god damn apartment complex/house down. LITERALLY WOULD HAVE THE AUDACITY TO BURN A GOD DAMN HOT POCKET. I mean I’m sure if you’d ask he’d try it out and boast some sort of confidence on the matter— little do you know your life is now at risk because of that sweet sweet ego.

probably burn some off all the fur on the tip of his tail somewhere in between that too honestly. The smell of burning monkey hair is not very enjoyable.

[fefairys]

funniest part of posting all these homestuck book annotation quotes is people being so surprised that hussie like… understands their own story. lmao

[novadorks]

finally finished orv after two years . . . what do i do with my life now

[pertenebris-adastra]

*spoilers*

How do you move on from Ep2 of Lessons in Chemistry

I don’t think I am mentally strong enough to keep watching. I legitimately can’t stop crying. Like the tears just won’t stop and it’s lowkey worrisome.

[katyspersonal]

I know we don't talk and there's stuff we may not agree with. But I am truly sorry you've dealt with a lot of drama over fictional crap. And I'm sorry if my posts in the past ever contributed to that. Hope you have a better day.

Hey... That's all fine, don't worry! After all, it takes a lot of time and Insight to realise that Gehrman is a very gentle and respectful man and Godrick is an absolute gigachad kdkdkshdffhhgfds /lh /lh

But yeah, on a serious note. It was quite frustrating to find out the real motivation under all that... mess was something so pathetic, but at the same time this is what happens when people make engagement with media and fandoms a moral, political act. Not necessarily a problem, after all, I was the one who concluded that the way a fan judges fictional characters and other fans will very well reveal how cruel they are to real people who do something bad, or how much they will forgive based on personal sympathies. And my mad ravings about caring about female characters! I think the problem comes when a fan is so insecure that they have nothing else besides this defence of ideals through fandomry. If your only way to assert yourself is to be a good guy punishing the bad guys, and that mad raving loredigger discovers there is NO bad guy, what is left of you?

This is why it is crucial to have passion for nurturing rather than for undermining! I think if you speak like this, you've found this truth too? This is true that I don't know you very much (mutual-in-law thing), but to be honest.. you didn't poison my fandom experience at all? I tend to never be aware about discourse until someone basically calls me for help fhdhgsdgdfs Can't scout the fandom tag regularly!

But not only it actually was a quite long ago I saw a "negative" post from you, but also I've seen through the posts that my friends liked or reblogged from you that you've actually became very eager person to defend people's passion and interests! I think the post that particularly got stuck with me was when you resented seeing someone's light die after some Redditor asshole "well aktualy"'d a thing they were excited about creating (not exact wording but maybe you remember too)? Like... you are fine, man. At that point I realised that you were a good fan and in the end valued people's creativity and passion over personal preferences. That you never wanted to be THAT guy, even if your interpretation could not be further from someone else's. Coming to terms with what actually matters in fandomry is very mature and I am happy to see this attitude!

I am still glad that you messaged me about this though; I did not expect this, but thank you! I think I will continue getting involved in fictional discourse because my autistic senses cannot ignore factually incorrect takes with a clear insidious motive, and.. eh, sooner or later, I'll piss off the wrong guy again. Don't feel bad for me when it inevitably happens :p I've accepted the shortcomings when I decided to be the debate guy. Simply laughing at some gremlin starting a discourse with the girls in DMs and not stressing over it is only funny until I realise that newer fans could get misinformed right off the bat.

[sickgraymeat]

It’s funny that I can only read/write AT fanfic that’s both (a) canon compliant and (b) not too sad by my (very sensitive baby) standards, bc ofc those things contradict each other a lot

[musical-chick-13]

.

[noahtally-famous]

planning a plot of a fic and it’s making me wanna pull my hair out fr

it’s productive but also so aggravating--as someone who isn’t usually a planner, I don’t like how chaotic it’s making me

(this is a general statement that I feel on a daily basis, but specifically as of rn I’m referring to the dashawn apocalypse au fic I’m working on)

[knowlesian]

my last post and the shameless mountain goats reference i threw in there got me thinking about one of my favorite story beats, because it combines a lot of character work and thematic oomph in one: ed being a victim of his own legend and ability to protect himself by hiding in plain sight + codeswitch into the version of himself that best suits the company/situation he’s in, in many ways but often most visibly through his interactions with izzy.

my take on “is blackbeard real or fake” has always been “yes”; blackbeard is pieces of ed filtered and strained and assembled and pruned down in ways that scarred him even as they kept him safe, in ways that are very sad and often stretching the definition of safe as far as ed’s personal definition of murder. nonetheless: it got him to the place he's at, still alive. could he have done it another way? who knows! that was the way he did it, it's the way he knows will work because it did work.

or: he thinks he knows that. but the legend was never all of ed and in fact demanded he spotlight pieces of himself he doesn't like so much a lot and repress a lot of the things that make him feel good, it’s not helping/hurting anymore. it’s just dragging him down.

so ed is sick of the blackbeard schtick; and here’s the rub. if he’d been worse at the art of personal fuckery alongside the pirate type, maybe none of this is happening. the world never knows his name; or worse, once he gets spotted as a man who won't kill they mock it. 

that version of ed does not attract izzy ‘ask me about my boner for the sunk cost fallacy’ hands, or does not keep him. because izzy has built his identity around ed’s legend; who is blackbeard’s first mate, if there is no blackbeard? who the fuck even is izzy hands, if he’s not seated at the right hand of edward teach?

now. you would hope, in a better world, that izzy would be like you know, edward, the thing here is: you wanting something different involves emotional consequences for me. i would have to figure out my whole life over again and i am simultaneously con o’neill’s age and emotionally sixteen like the real world me was, so you can see that would be super complicated. i have so fucking much baggage and you are just adding to it, and i do not like that. also: this fucks up my work situation and my home life at once, it makes me feel sad and abandoned and itchy in ways i do not wish to label with words because they would be gay ones like ‘please don’t leave me, i love you and i thought it was mutual’ so like... world rocked, thoroughly and in ways that make me want to rant until past last call, in conclusion this sucks and i think it's twenty mistakes in a trenchcoat, some of them maybe life threatening! i wish you would not.

and then he would step back and let ed make his own fucking choices anyway and either do the work to figure himself out in the same space or finally grab those cds from the car and find his own place to do the same, because a shitty fact of adult life is sometimes people cannot be what we want or need. sometimes that is because they suck: sometimes, it’s just because they can’t or don't want to, and that isn't them being mean or withholding. they don't owe us more than the basic kindness and dignity we all owe to each other just because we put in our hours longing for them to do so. that’s some toxic, entitled shit. understandable! an impulse i share at times! but we should never be That Guy (gender neutral) because the friendzone doesn’t actually exist and nobody deserves to win someone else as a prize for hanging around long enough and driving them to the airport. that’s just called being friends, etc.

izzy is sadly currently stuck on being That Guy. so instead of realizing ed is an adult man and can make his own choices, even if izzy thinks they're bad ones, he fucking panics and starts swinging around and finally runs to big daddy england to make stede bonnet stooooooooop (messing with ed’s brain).

and of course he does something like that! he thinks a relationship is when you metaphorically own each other and when you can only be tender after putting your right foot in and then putting it out before once again putting it in and then proceeding to shake it all about, violent rituals unlock love style. he’s a desperate man in a hell entirely of his own making.

and so is ed, in this entirely different way but stuck in his own fucking orbit as firmly as izzy, only ed is trying to claw his way up and out to see what else he can be, while izzy would do juuuust about anything (including lick the king’s boots) to stay the same forever.

that’s some tragic shit. i love this writing team, the end.

[jensensitive]

the idea of a kripke spn continuation manages to give me anxiety every day, i wish i was normal

[tsurugis]

I am so inspired by media that allows characters to get excited as fuck and just unashamedly fucking start hugging each other jumping around and laughing a shit???/?//??? I feel so influenced by fuckin Star Wars and lotr and shit where the guys aren’t just. all stoic like. *shakes hands* or like that masculine aggressive hug you know what I mean. get the fuck out of here.!!!! Look at han and luke and leia jumping around and hugging and kissing like excited children . do you think that makes them uncool. do you?/????

[compacflt]

more on ice's cancer?

no.

[glacierbash]

good news! i got my xbox working again! bad news! i had to factory reset it and lost almost 5 years worth of gaming. :( destiny. fallout. skyrim. my darkest dungeon save. all gone. goodbye. there is no god in this wretched world.

[italiantea]

i really need to archive my shit better