#uhhhhhh she dead :<

[just-a-girl-with-a-pistol]

A

skull :>

[edwinisms]

see I can’t accept charles’ comic background and socioeconomic status as canon for the show because if I did that would mean the whole group would be a bunch of rich kids and that’s a horrifying concept

[dykrophone]

who's gonna take one for the team and write the beth pov angsty estranged faberry future reunion fic the world desperately needs

[coconut530]

🫣 Ada… what

ALSO

FP THUMB UNDER CUT

MY BOI!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!???!!?!?!!!??!!?!?!? 🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷 HE’S BEEN FOUND GOOD GOD WE HAVEN’T SEEN HIM SINCE NOVEMBER 3RD IN THIS PANEL:

HE BACK!!! MAYBE!!! I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS!!! BUT I SEE HIM SO I’M FREAKING OUT!!!

[sezja]

"What's the status of your WoL's family"

Nerise: Extinct.

[seaside-lovers-archive]

popping in from the void rq to say i have two new unfortunate crushes. i know i have terrible taste, pls dont slaughter me 😔 okay goodbye now

[coureirsix]

1 am reminder that dean winchester is. gay. he likes men.

[iamthescalesofjustice]

you are john. it has been, what, like eight or ten months since you sent out the notices about the new round of lyctor trials? you have a weird dream one night and decide, on a whim, to check in on how the trials are going. 

you phone home (its not home, home is gone). no one picks up. thats weird, and kind of concerning, so you go to check. canaan house is empty, even of the constructs you left to act as bodies for the partitioned bit of your soul-conglomerate you left there. there seem to be a lot of weird zombies on various continents. whoops, looks like some of the partitions of your soul-network need to be tuned up. well, you can do that after you figure out where the contestants went. 

an extensive round of investigation later, you land on the ninth. yep, that sure does seem to be the missing contestants. and the canaan house priests. and cytherea is here, for some reason. probably plotting against you. and... oh, annabel, good morning. 

while you are getting stabbed by your cavalier, you cant help but notice that it looks like some of the contestants did, in fact, achieve lyctorhood. but uh, definitely not the way they were supposed to. 

[empyreva]

Daisies

Summary: All you want is to have ONE nice date with Luke without him sabotaging it in some way--surely a flower meadow is safe

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: Fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, Luke and reader are sassy and silly with each other, flirting, teasing, Luke loves getting under your skin, implied sex, vague nudity, 17+

A/N: My thoughts got ahead of me....I liked the idea of reader being like the A type partner and Luke loves messing with her--but you braid flowers in his hair anyway!!

The air is thick with the scents of lavender and honeysuckle--wildflowers dancing with the wind, bending gently but never breaking under the force. Here and there, butterflies and bees dart from flower to flower, sipping nectar lazily.

As you step onto the sprawling expanse of green grass, you can't help but gasp at the scene in front of you. It was like Gaia herself handpicked this location--a sprawling meadow between junctions of neighboring forests, brimming with life. "Wow..." You breathed out, eyes wide with excitement for your perfect picnic date. 

From behind you, the tall grass rustled--a strong arm snaking its way around your waist. Your boyfriend's eyes were pointed ahead, silently contemplating the sanctuary the two of you had found while attempting to get some private time away from the camp. Tugging on Luke's shirt, you enticed him to lean over for a quick kiss before you beckoned him to follow you as you searched for the perfect place to settle down--taking his hand in yours as you ventured further.

"Here's good?" You stopped in front of a small clearing in the field, a patch of dirt stripped bare and empty. Despite being objectively dead, it seemed well-loved, a little TLC would be needed to brush away dust and stray weeds--How many demigods before you had snuck away to this place? The romantic notion alone made your heart flutter.

"Perfect," Luke drawled, giving you a cheeky smile. Enthusiastically, you billowed out the large sheet you had tucked in the small picnic basket--fussing over making sure there were no crinkles in the fabric or sharp rocks underneath it. Watching you bend over and curse as dirt scuffed your pretty white dress had his own thoughts wandering--He honestly couldn't care less about where the two of you ended up.

After deeming everything to be perfectly in place, you dragged Luke down next to you, giggling as he stumbled into a comfortable sitting position. You began to ramble on about something--Luke honestly didn't care much for conversation. He offered you a couple "Mhm"s and "Oh yeah?"s, feigning interest in what you and Annabeth discovered while cleaning out the shed behind Athena's cabin. His eyes flickered down.

Gods, you weren't even wearing a bra.

"Luke--Luke!!" Suddenly you were right in front of him, nose to nose as your eyebrows furrowed. "Are you even listening?"

"Uh-uhm yeah--So uhhhhhh....So what happened after Percy killed that...Lizard?" 

"Tarantula, Luke. And he didn't kill it, he just flung it somewhere and told Annabeth that he killed it," you sighed, pushing your hair back with one hand. Luke felt like he had been pierced through the heart, gazing intently at you as you preened yourself for a moment. "But, anyway, Annabeth was so cute because she..."

"It's a bit hot, don't you think?" He interjected, fingers skirting along the exposed flesh of your thigh--peeking out from beneath your white dress. "Like, I'm actually sooo hot--Aren't you feeling it?" You gasped and pouted, gently pushing his wandering hand back to his side of the blanket. No no, you weren't going to let him win, again. The last time the two of you even tried to leave for a date, he 'accidentally' spilled something all over your shirt so you had to change. In front of him.

"C'mon, Luke, the food's gonna go bad if we start now!" You whined, pointing at the two perfectly crafted sandwiches you made, not to mention the various fresh fruits you packed up for dessert!! Completely ignoring you, Luke shrugged his shirt off from over his head, letting it fall somewhere in the nearby daisies. A smirk danced across his face, noticing the way your gaze immediately diverted the second he was facing you again. His abs had a slight shine to them, his biceps flexing as he pushed himself onto his haunches. "A-Aren't you hungry? We've been walking for like--like an hour!"

"Oh, I'm hungry--starved, even..." Luke pushed the basket out of the way, a slow crawl landing his lips just a breath away from yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes locking with Luke's--Gods he just had this way of getting you right under his thumb. A large hand slipped all the way up your dress, gently massaging the burning-hot flesh of your chest.

"I just have this...craving for something else."

--

"This is fucking amazing, baby," Luke moaned, his fingers dwarfing what remained of his sandwich. His head lay on your bare lap, cradled between your knees as he lounged, free as a bird, basking in the warmth of the sun and summer air. "Best. Sandwich. Ever."

"Thank you," you huffed, one hand massaging his scalp as the other supported your dinner. "You spoilt brat..." Luke frowned at the words that you muttered under your breath, reaching a hand up to flick at your nose.

"Hey!"

"I'm not a brat," he whined, poking at your jaw like a child. "Don't say that."

"Don't say that," you mocked. "Gods, can you ever NOT act like a big baby."

"Just for you, my girl."

You looked down at your boyfriend's handsome face--His mischievous brown eyes sparkled under the soft rays of the setting sun, while his dark curls fell around his forehead in gentle waves. Laughter escaped him as you gave his ribs a soft tickle, and he tried to evade you for a second before you decided that you wanted to try and actually be romantic. Something about these teenage boys...

You turned to your side and reached over, plucking a few daisy blossoms from the ground—a bouquet of white. With a smile, you began delicately threading them through his locks. Some clung tight to his scalp, others drifted lightly to the tips of his curls. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, relishing the sensation of your fingers against his skin--the soft tugging and gentle petting as you crafted a sort of halo.

"My handsome boy," you murmured, hoping to commit this moment to memory. Luke was growing sleepy, you could tell by how his eyes fought to stay open long enough to gaze into yours--the rise and fall of his chest in the rhythm of a euphony of crickets in the distance. He looked so pretty like this, so vulnerable, so trusting. You wished that this day would never end.

[braveboiart]

Uhhhhhh I’ve been dead for a really long time and forgetting to post whoopsie-

take a silly little doodle I did a few days ago

Charlie wonders why she let this freak of a man help with her little redemption project

[kittycatcomander]

AU where SBI are villains, and Kristin is the villain wrangler making sure all the kids who get counseling in her office get a chance to meet who ever they want, even if they’re wanted dead by the hero commission.

Cue meet-cute(?) between Kristin and Phil, where she spends weeks tracking down the infamous “ Crowfather, killer of heroes and hater of the system” because some little kid wanted see him, and she stands tall and totally not terrified (/s) on a rooftop waiting for him.

And Phil is faced with this woman who spent hours and hours researching his routines not to arrest him but to let a little kid meet him, and he just falls for her.

So they exchange numbers, and everytime from there on out when Kristin has a kid who wants to meet The Blade or Orpheus or Nemesis she just casually shoots THE TOP VILLAIN a message, internally screaming, while Phil is kicking his feet on the air like a stereotypical teenager everytime his phone dings with a personalized ringtone.

Hero!Dream: I have finally confronted you, doer of evil! Today, our fight will be legend-

Crowfather!Phil: wait pause mate- OMG ITS HER 🥰🥰

Hero!Dream: wait wha-

Technoblade: I’ll take it from here

And so begins her getting really casual about the fact she personally texts the top villain.

I’m imagining some side stuff where she meets Tommy, a sidekick in desperate need of help (which she’s happy to provide), and a few others who’s relationship evolves with her over time.

Kirstin when first meeting the Blade: hooooooly smokes this guy is Dangerous, but if the kid wants to meet him… I’ll be prepared

Techno: uhhhhhh (struggling to interact with the receptionist, holds kids and swings them around gently like planes, lets them win fake fights)

Kristin: ok wait he’s like seven shaking puppies built like a brick house

She and Phil talk more and more as the arrangement continues, about everything and eventually life, and things shift from there. The first time that a villain tries hurting one of the kids also shifts their relationship…. especially since Kristin handles it as efficiently as she does.

There’s more, but in this AU I imagine Kristin to have a super dangerous power of her own (unregistered because teehee) that motivated her to work with troubled youth in need of help and kids working with a limited lifespan. I want her to be OP but just friendly and downplaying her ability since she was never in a situation to use it to the full extant.

Also there’d obviously be a CrimeBoys plot and adoption of Tommy into the family (bye bye Dream) which leads to her getting invited over to like. Family dinners and stuff, where the interactions are all completely cute and normal but undercut by her perspective reminding her of crimes they’ve all committed. Like-

“Phil, who had the most beautiful eyes but hands stained with the blood of approximately 3,791 people, passed her the salad with a bright smile. His son(?) continued the story of how he met a new friend. Kristin wasn’t sure if the story was in or out of masks, and she was scared to ask at this point.”

I especially want her to and Phil to reflect the two main approaches to changing the world, where you could either completely destroy the system in place (villains, anarchy) and forcefully restart, or you could tackle an issue at its lowest (if the world is full of corrupt people, change the people from a young age)

[shadowqueenjude]

Didn't Rhys only kiss Feyre to protect her from Amarantha utm? I have only read the books once, so I could be wrong

OK so this is going to be a deep dive into all of Rhysand’s violations of Feyre specifically in book 1. Keep reading but be aware it’s long.

The first time Rhysand invades her mind is not even UTM but well before.

It is very clear that Feyre neither asked for it and enjoyed it, and before people say Rhysand was “playing a role,” this was completely unnecessary. He didn’t have to visit the Spring Court. Tamlin already thought he was the villain. And if Amarantha had ordered him to do so, he could’ve said some mean words to Tamlin and Lucien and been done with it. There is absolutely no reason to invade Feyre’s mind other than to delight in her terror.

Now let’s go to UTM.

Ok so basically if Feyre had given Rhysand her true name she would be dead at this point. And people argue “he was playing a role!” like…how? He could’ve just said her mind was like iron and impossible to penetrate. “Oh he was protecting her and knew she gave a false name!” no…he…didn’t? How tf would he know? And even if he somehow did know, he still gave that name to Amarantha knowing that it might be somebody close to Feyre and her family and got her ruthlessly tortured and killed.

Ok so why is he forcibly grabbing her arm and hurting her here? There’s no one here but them two. If Rhysand wanted to help Feyre, he could’ve revealed himself to Feyre here. Do you really think that Feyre would give away his double-agentry if it benefitted her? There. Was. No. Need. For. A. Fucking. Mask. HE LAUGHED.

Now another argument that I often see for twisting her arm is that it convinced her to agree to the healing that ultimately saved her life. But that is also wrong. Here it is pretty fucking obvious that Feyre was able to reason that for herself. Besides, it clearly wasn’t premeditated. He “lashed out,” meaning it was done in a moment of rage.

Also, he didn’t heal her out of the goodness of his heart or even to save himself from Amarantha. No, he wanted her, demanded her for two weeks out of every month. Why? To spite Tamlin, probably. He is OBSESSED with Tamlin. Look that in comparison to Lucien.

There was no reason to add that second screenshot that’s just me fangirling over Lucien (again). But the point is he healed her without asking for anything. Maybe you could argue he did for Tamlin, for himself, for Prythian, but he’s still miles ahead of Rhysand sooooooo… Ok the worst part...

Do you know what this means? That means the situation with the kiss only happened because RHYSAND sexually harassed Feyre by forcing her to wear extremely revealing clothes and coating her in this magic body paint. Otherwise how tf would Amarantha know that they kissed?????

Also Rhysand calling her his “belongings.” Uhhhhhh so what is that about hm?

“He was doing it to perform for Amarantha” bro not even Amarantha liked it💀💀💀 This was for him and him alone. He gained some sick pleasure from this.

Wow he's so bad at his role...Amarantha is sus

Now is this or is this not Rhysand invading Feyre’s mind and forcing her to drink the wine? Drug induced sexual assault.

My pookie bear Lulu checking on Feyre after she was SAed🥺👉👈

Ok anyway this is so unserious LOL. It’s so fucking obvious that SJM hastily went and edited this part when she decided that she wanted Rhysand to be endgame instead of Tamlin because she wanted it known that “Rhysand only touched her waist uwu!” Even if that was true, idc. He still violated her in countless ways.

If you want a plausible canon explanation, well Rhysand probably decided to manipulate her memory so that he said that it would smear if anybody touched it, including himself. Probably bc he realized it would be useful to have her on his side rather than otherwise (but he still wanted to have fun with her). Which offers the even more sinister idea that somebody besides Rhysand also touched her…

Also dude, why do you wanna rile Tamlin up so bad? Gay.

The fact that the sexual assault was supposed to be a clear contrast to the joy she felt with Tamlin and then SJM retconned it all and made it into a repetitive sexy moment in later books pisses me off.

LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY LULU BABY

THE FACT THAT HE RISKED HIS LIFE FOR FEYRE AND GOT BEATEN FOR IT AND COULDN’T WALK FOR DAYS AND THEN AS SOON AS HE CAN EVEN THOUGH HE’S IN SO MUCH PAIN HE CRAWLS TO FEYRE’S CELL, STEALS A COAT FROM A GUARD TO GIVE TO HER, AND COMFORTS HER AFTER HER SEXUAL ASSAULT IS JUST SOOOOO AHHHHH HE’S MY LOYAL KING THIS FANDOM DOESN’T DESERVE YOU MY LOVE. RHYSAND COULD NEVER.

...ok this hurts.

WHY??? BECAUSE HE'S GAY, GIRL.

“He kept her from breaking entirely 🥺” ok he could’ve done that without forcing himself on her again. If you suggest that he had to “make her disgusted to keep her together” or some twisted bullshit I will jump you.

Ok maybe here he kissed her to “protect her,” but he already had her forcibly pinned to the wall, flirting with her when she obviously did not want him, and was actively violating her for weeks by dressing her up like a whore and forcing her to give him lap dances. So this situation is entirely his fault and I will not give him any mercy here.

Anyway I believe that’s the end of Rhysand’s violations of Feyre specifically for this book. But yeah. He only gets worse from book 2 onward.

[wolfythewitch]

Wolfy I need help, I’m a classics senior and somehow I’ve never read the Iliad, are there any moments similar to Telemachus and menelaus listening to songs of the past, or Odysseus bawling his eyes out disguised as a beggar hearing music performed about his fallen comrades?

Uhhhhhh there the scene in book 6 with hector and his son astyanax, there's the iconic scene with Priam and Achilles, there's that one scene of Helen talking to Priam about the Greek kings and her brothers who she didn't know were dead if those count agdhdb

[doberbutts]

Yeah people acting like trans people are just automatically seen as our gender pre everything is very... dismissive of transphobia. There was that one article a while back of a southern black trans man who was a real estate agent who after a long time of being stealth was outed and went from being loved to hated at work if I recall treatment so bad he had to quit plus loss of clientele. I've also heard more casual transphobia after passing/going stealth, since people think they can be bigoted around me. If they think doesn't weigh on our minds how people hate us but don't know it... I'm very cautious with new friendships cause it's like will this person later on admit they dislike me without even being aware of it? Being post everything I understand the whole not being alone but being lonely.

Well like I said I think it all goes back to the fact that a lot of people have a very specific image in their mind of a trans man and that image often doesn't align with reality. For the record I think that happens with all transgender journeys- people have very specific images about what trans people look like and are mad when faced with someone who doesn't match that at all.

And, well. People are weirder about gender than they want to admit. Like my coworker who deliberately calls people she knows are men by feminine terms (girls, ladies, women, etc) and was so confused and needed it explained to her when the two queer men she was doing it to (myself, and our gay boss) said "hey that's uhhhhhh not a great thing to be doing......."

Or all the people who think men and women are inherently, biologically, completely distinct and practically seperate species. They get real mad if there's any or any overlap and that can range from the way bigots talk about their own homophobia to the way leftist praxis has gotten entirely out of hand with the way they treat transgender individuals.

I'm unfortunately used to having to be cautious with new friendships due to being mixed race- a lot of people feel emboldened to say some nasty shit to my face like I'm going to sympathize or agree with them, including a roommate's sibling sitting in my room looking me dead in the eyes saying she doesn't like black people and doesn't think that makes her racist like she thinks I'm going to agree and poor-baby her. I don't really have much advice outside of sticking to your boundaries and not tolerating bullshit once you find it.

[gravyhoney]

Ok reblog with uhhhhhh can ur Ninjago oc drive/do they do so? Also uhhh why or why not? (English teacher ass question)

Toni can drive, but doesn’t on account if not owning a car (car insurance in Ninjago City has to be CRAZYYYYYY) and it’s easier to stop and interview ppl if he’s on a bike or on foot.

Charlie never properly learned how to drive (didn’t go to high school bc she was legally regarded as dead by that point) but does know how to and does do so.

Kit can’t drive bc they grew up in a society where it. Wasn’t needed.

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

Who’d Even Look Me In The Eye

“You realize we’re screwed, yeah? There’s no getting out of this unscathed, Wem. We’re dead meat.”

He laughs, an empty little breath. “We’ve been screwed since the beginning, Squiddo.”

Hello and welcome to my partykillers manifesto. They rotate in my head like rotisserie chickens constantly so it was inevitable that this fic would be written lmao

This isn’t ship! At best this is a doomed toxic friendship trying to mend itself and failing. If it came off as ship, uhhhhhh. Whoops I guess. Idk interpret it as you want ig I just didn’t intend it to be romantic.

Content warning for mention of vomiting and general lifesteal violence, title from Kiss Me, Son Of God by They Might Be Giants (which is THE Team Nuke song. To me)

Please reblog if u liked it and enjoy!!!

Wemmbu is sitting on the edge of the crater that used to be 4C’s base when Squiddo finds him. He’s idle, swinging his legs back and forth over the yawning gap below, leaning back on his arms as if he were simply enjoying a nice sunset. Conveniently, the sun is in fact setting, orange and pink hues filtering through Squiddo’s glasses. The final few rays reflect off of Wemmbu’s polished crown, scattering light like pockmarks of the wreckage.

Squiddo doesn’t approach him right away. She wasn’t exactly looking for the man- they were simply wandering, as a Squiddo often does, their feet guiding them as thoughts ran wild in their brain. Her feet and scattered mind brought her here either by coincidence or fate, and it’s never in her favor when she walks into a situation blind like that. Around Wemmbu especially, with how he can change at the drop of a hat, laughing one moment and snarling another. It’s best to watch him carefully, first, see how he’s acting when he thinks he’s alone before entering the fray. For that reason, Squiddo hides behind one of the boulders that came careening down in the explosion, hidden eyes trained on the man twenty feet away from them.

They don’t find it strange that he’s devoid of any tension while surveying the wreckage. This is his coup de grace, his shining achievement; a monument of his sheer power in a world that wants to beat him down. There’s a fondness in Wemmbu’s eyes as he casts them across the landscape, soft smile reaching them without any effort. Contrastly, if Squiddo weren’t focusing on analyzing him as if he were some sort of crossword puzzle that was being particularly difficult, they’re pretty sure they would be full to the brim with a manic sort of regret- small fits of laughter would bubble up from somewhere in her chest, despite a lack of a smile. And then she would probably vomit over the edge, because guilt does that to them.

Here’s the difference between Wemmbu and Squiddo, as partnered as they are: Squiddo never wanted this. The first time, when it was just a mean move on the chessboard in a family diner, it was fine. It was funny, even, to watch as people she had just gotten to know fall lifeless, their souls yanked backwards at a million miles per hour. That was part of the game everyone had agreed to play. This—the air strike, the destruction, the days of stress, the sound of Wemmbu’s screaming demands echoing through their head—was a step too far for them, even if 4C had agreed to it, and she had initially been willing to pitch in. Maybe it was because working on the nuke itself had worn them down to skin and bones, sleep abandoning them in moments of need, but something had switched in her head upon watching the TNT fall from the sky. Something in them screamed wrongness, and suddenly, instead of pride welling up at finally getting the damn thing working, regret surged into her for letting this happen. For having a hand in it. The sharpness in Wemmbu’s voice as he made his ultimatum—something he never clued her and 4C on—only solidified that feeling in her stomach.

Speaking of Wemmbu, he’s still just sitting there, kicking his legs. From this angle, Squiddo can’t entirely read his face, but there seems to be no tension as far as they can tell. He’s in his element, something she hasn’t seen from him since the nuke went off. It’s not odd in any manner, it’s just…off putting. Disconcerting. Something Squiddo can’t make an accurate prediction out of. But if fate brought them here, surely it meant something, the same way it must’ve meant something for them to join lifesteal in the first place, so she steadies her resolve and lifts herself from the crouching position she took upon seeing him.

They can tell exactly when he’s alerted to their presence- in an instant, his posture tenses, fingers digging into the rough terrain. His crown jostles a bit as he silently tries to locate the sound. It’s easily missable, those little quirks, but Squiddo knows Wemmbu better than anyone else on this server. She’s had to pay attention to those quirks for days on end, before. She can read him like a book if he lets them. Knowing him, he won’t give them the chance.

“Y’know I can hear your footsteps, Squiddo,” he calls out without moving.

“How’d you know it was me?” They reply, but they know the answer already. Wemmbu just huffs a laugh in response. So far, the tension in the air is minimal- both of them are holding their breath, keeping it light as if their friendship hasn’t been atomized three times over. She can almost pretend that nothing has changed, if it weren’t for the visual reminder in front of them.

Wemmbu doesn’t keep the game up for long, though. “Why are you here?” he asks, and the familiar sarcastic bite to his voice makes itself known between words. It’s less of a question and more of a challenge, a test to see if they’re worthy of his presence. “I thought you hated me, or something.”

That’s odd, Wemmbu getting vulnerable so quickly. Squiddo knows it’s an act, his way of lowering her own guard so he can lure them in, but she’s not entirely mad about it. As much as they wish he would just take the hits as is rather than scheming his way out of every mildly uncomfortable situation, they know it’s in his nature to put up the front as quickly as possible. Usually, the banter lasts longer, is the thing. He’s particularly bothered by them being here. They don’t know if they like that or not.

Instead of lingering on it, though, she moves on, ignoring the sentence that was tacked onto his question. “You know me. I wander. Ended up wandering here.”

“Right.” Translation: cut the bullshit, Squiddo.

The huff that comes out of her is a mix of frustration and relief. It’s still the same old Wemmbu, and that’s both good and bad news. Which Wemmbu it is, Squiddo doesn’t know, but they’ll take their chances on it being the one that won’t kill her on sight.

He doesn’t move when she walks up to the edge and sits down next to him. His sword, if he’s even got one on him, stays in his inventory. The only change between either of them is that Squiddo starts swinging their legs in sync with his, hands gripping the edge of the crater to keep balance. She pointedly doesn’t look down- as much as she dislikes Wemmbu’s lack of tells, she doesn’t want to show her own, and the queasiness would eliminate her already weak poker face.

For a long moment, both of them just watch the sun set in front of them. The air smells of smoke and iron, the lingering traces of their actions hanging heavy on their shoulders. Grass has begun to creep through the cracks in the rock, nature claiming the wreckage as its own once again. For anyone else, it’s beautiful. To Squiddo, it still is, but the gentle beauty is easily trampled by fear and guilt.

It’s Wemmbu who breaks the silence, voice flat and casual. “I don’t regret a thing, you know.”

Her tone is similarly flat. No tells. “Distinctly aware of that, yep.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues, leaning back on his palms, soft smile gracing his face again, “it was hell. Building the nuke, I mean. Those schematics are burned into my retinas to the point where I could rebuild it blindfolded. I tried to, once. Spoke caught me before I could finish.”

“Were you gonna use it?”

He shrugs. Lets the silence between them simmer, as if he’s just enjoying the view. Knowing him, he probably is.

“Eh. Wouldn’t’ve done much, probably. Most likely would’ve just blown up in my face.”

More silence. Something Squiddo knows about Wemmbu: he doesn’t trust silence. This situation is probably eating him alive, with the way they’re dancing around the metaphorical elephant. It’s eating them alive, too, waiting for his reaction, for him to settle on a mood. She swallows her desire to just start crying, or laughing, or something. Now’s not the time for that. Now is the time to just get on with it, either by playing the game of chess he’s laid out with this conversation, or push him off the cliff while he’s vulnerable.

Her voice is steady when she speaks. “I don’t know if I regret it or not.”

“What, like it wasn’t exciting?”

“Our definitions of exciting are very different, Wemmbu.”

He chuckles at that, as if it’s another late night at the launch site and they’re goofing around again. “Squiddo. Squiddo. You can be mad all you want, but you can’t deny it wasn’t at least a little bit fun.”

He’s trying to get a rise out of her, she knows. She hates that it’s working. She hates that they’re sliding back into normalcy. She hates that she can imagine 4C next to her, swinging his legs in time with her. She lets that hate seep into her next words.

“Fun?! Fun was when Zam and Minute were dressed as the FNaF animatronics celebrating my fake birthday. Fun was when you would be away and me and 4C would dick around the launch site like children. Fun was 4C undulating in the wiring! Fun was messing with the secret controls! Fun was filling spawn with water! You?,” Squiddo gestures to the landscape in front of them, shadows forming as the sun dips below the horizon, “This? This was a living nightmare, Wemmbu! And I-“

She cuts herself off with a huff, falling back onto the rocky soil behind her. Tears are making their glasses fog up, so she takes them off, pressing her palms into her eyes to ward off any frustration. The breath they didn’t know they were holding releases from their chest. Wemmbu doesn’t move from his spot on the cliff edge, nor does he pull out a weapon of some kind. He must be in a really good mood today, if he’s not killing her for that jab against him.

In front of them, the sun finally dips below their view of the horizon. Stars speckle the darkening sky. In any other situation, Squiddo could watch them for hours; in this one, they break the silence with a quiet, wavering conviction.

“You realize we’re screwed, yeah? There’s no getting out of this unscathed, Wem. We’re dead meat.”

He laughs, an empty little breath. “We’ve been screwed since the beginning, Squiddo.”

She knew this. Those same words have been going through their head over and over, spurring her to pace, get out, go somewhere. Hearing it from him, though, is a heavy weight on her chest, one that makes the regret swirling in her stomach do flips.

“Then why’d you do it?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, not set an ultimatum that couldn’t be fulfilled?”

By the sound of rocks rustling and pebbles tumbling down the side of the crater, Wemmbu has finally stood up. He takes the time to dust himself off, hands brushing against fabric in an almost rhythmic manner. If Squiddo opens her eyes, she can see him standing over her, arms crossed and eyes unreadable, assessing her as if she’s under a microscope. It doesn’t worry her as much as the fact that her eyes were closed around Wemmbu does.

After what feels too long of an analysis, he speaks, falling into his typical tone of monologue. “Power is a fickle thing, Squiddo. It’s not just you have it or you don’t. You have to earn it in a manner that no one has done before, and it never lasts as long as you want it to. But oh, I wanted it. I joined the race for power on a server where everyone has done everything to get it. I had to take the risk.

And you know, maybe it wasn’t worth it. You said it best. We’re fucked. No matter what we do, in the long run, there’s no getting out of this alive. But I have at least some time left before it all goes to hell, so I’m gonna make it count. Every second of it.”

The difference between Wemmbu and Squiddo, as partnered as they will be: Squiddo never wanted this.

Wemmbu holds out a gloved hand. The black contrasts nicely with the neon purple of his skin, bloodstains barely noticeable. Most of that blood is probably Minute’s, if they had to guess. “You’re along for the ride, as much as you claim innocence. Might as well stop crying about it and make it count too.”

They take his hand, hoisting themself up with his help. That heavy feeling hasn’t left their chest, but it’s something Squiddo knows how to live with by now.

“Never said I was claiming innocence, Wem. I was just mad.”

“Aren’t we all, Squiddo, aren’t we all.”

The reason Squiddo keeps teaming with Wemmbu, as different as they are: neither of them know when to stop.

For a long moment, they both just stand there, looking over the crater. In the moonlight, it takes on an eerie sense of calm, a silent mourning underneath the cover of night. That calm washes over Squiddo as she watches the patches of grass away in the breeze. Then Wemmbu turns to leave, shoving a hand in an unseen pocket and placing the other on their shoulder.

“You never answered my question, by the way.”

This time, it’s her who lets out the huff of a laugh. “About hating you? Can’t. I try not to hold grudges, if you can believe it.”

He laughs back in reply, a hearty thing combined with a layer of sarcasm. “God, you sound like Minute, the freak. I don’t think that man is capable of having a mean bone in his body.”

“I have no clue how he’s survived this long, honestly.”

It’s nice, as much as Squiddo doesn’t want it to be, talking to Wemmbu again. Her mind brought her here, and it’s probably because she needed it- she cares about her other server mates, of course, but the same way she knows Wemmbu, he knows her. No one else can rile up their audacity the way he can. No one else can make her feel okay with living in a war zone like lifesteal. Ash tried, but Ash is a different breed of player, and works on a different playing field. Squiddo sticks with what she knows, and she knows Wemmbu, as unfortunate as that can be.

And yes, they’re screwed, but for a moment, underneath the sparkling navy sky, Squiddo pretends that both of them have more time than they do.