thevoidgalactic

[thevoidgalactic]

The core of my design, your eyes look down at mine.

[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘦𝘵��𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺, 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘺.]

—

Helios is adjusting.

It’s... harder than he’d thought.

TW; hallucinations, emetophobia

Helios trudged aimlessly down the hall.

His body felt numb, his mind empty. He wasn’t sure why he was here, but he knew he needed to keep walking. Somewhere, he could hear a clock ticking. Maybe it was down the hall. Maybe it was in his brain. It was really loud.

He shivered. He was still in his pajamas, for some reason. The hardwood felt freezing cold under his bare feet.

The ticking grew louder. He was running out of time.

He started running.

The hall wasn’t supposed to be this long. It seemed to stretch on forever as the ticking grew even louder. It was too loud, too fast, gnawing at his mind and jumbling his thoughts.

His heart started pounding. Terror started to set in, but he had no idea why. He ran faster, his feet aching, his breath growing heavier. He felt nauseous, but he couldn’t stop. He had to run, run, run, RUN.

He tripped.

He fell, crashing through the floorboards and into an abyss. He flailed and thrashed, screaming, but he couldn’t even hear himself. He kept falling, faster and faster, twisting in the air to see the ground—since when was there a ground?—below.

A strange red glow awaited him at the bottom.

A trident.

He screamed again, trying to twist out of the way—

Helios shot upright.

He grabbed at his midsection, feeling around for wounds that weren’t there. He looked around. 

“[A dream,]” He whispered, his voice cracking with the effort.

He let out a small sob, curling in on himself and squeezing his eyes shut. His head was throbbing, and searing pain shot up his arms. He laid back down, shivering, grasping at his arms. How did it hurt so much when his arms weren’t even there anymore? He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to scream as he buried his face into the sheets, waiting for the pain and nausea to subside.

After what felt like an eternity, he took a shaky breath, pushing himself upright again.

{It’s your fault.}

“[What the fuck do you—]” He started, looking up before freezing.

Atlas was standing by the door, but she looked... wrong. Wait—how did he get inside? Helios’s door was locked.

They weren’t blinking. They just stared at him, her eyes a blank white. The shadow that normally only covered half of him spread across his entire body, making them look hazy. Their voice didn’t seem to come from her direction—rather, he heard their voice in his mind, as if it was his own internal monologue.

Maybe it was.

{I know you can hear me.}

Helios’s mouth felt dry. He didn’t move. He couldn’t move. This wasn’t Atlas, he knew it. So why did it look so much like him..?

{You forced my hand. If you’d have just left them alone, none of this would have happened.}

He shook his head. “[You- you didn’t have to do this,]” He murmured. “[Artemis might be dead. And you—]” He started coughing, doubling over and clutching his throat, flinching as the cold metal of his hands hit his wound. He gagged, covering his mouth and going still for a moment, trembling.

{It’s been weeks. Who’s to say Artemis isn’t dead?}

“[Because we aren’t dead,]” Helios snarled, looking back up to glare at Atlas(?), who was still standing listlessly near the door.

{How is that proof?}

“[I would feel it—]”

Helios retched, drawing in a sharp breath and stumbling out of his bed, practically collapsing to his knees. The nausea was overwhelming, dizzying, he couldn’t even think anymore. He tried to get up, then tipped over again, just barely catching himself with his hands before vomiting.

He groaned, shakily reaching up to wipe his mouth, tears stinging his eyes as he looked up again.

The apparition was gone.

He mumbled to himself, though he wasn’t sure what he even said. Static creeped in from the edges of his vision. He tried to rise once more, but his knees buckled and his vision went black.

He was out before he hit the floor.

[thevoidgalactic]

“I’M NOT DOING WHAT YOU SAY I’M DOING— I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING AT ALL.”

(AKA, I redrew a scene from ENA: Dream BBQ because I can ok.)

[thevoidgalactic]

CW; BLOOD

[thevoidgalactic]

How will it be? You without me?

[thevoidgalactic]

loop 217

[thevoidgalactic]

Everyone's making VNSF equivalents for their AUs now?

[thevoidgalactic]

Please don’t leave me here.

/𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴, 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵. 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥./

-

Artemis has some questions.

Melinoë answers.

Artemis sat on the ground, humming to themself. They had gotten used to the sensory deprivation by now, especially with Melinoë to keep them company.

They perked up as they heard the familiar clicking of Melinoë’s footsteps, and the rustling of fabric as she sat down beside them. She gently reached over and combed her fingers through Artemis’s hair, picking out the knots and tangles.

However, something had been nagging Artemis since they met Melinoë.

“(Mel?)”

“/…Yes?/“

Artemis hummed, thinking for a moment.

“(…Why are you here?)”

Silence.

…

“/Ah. It is a long story…/“

“(Oh, er, you don’t have to—)”

Artemis paused as Melinoë pressed a finger to their lips.

“/No, little one. It is a long story, but if you are willing to listen, I am happy to tell./“

“(Really?)”

“/Truly./“

I will warn you, though, it is not a pleasant tale.

…

It was when I had first formed. That might have been many years ago. Truthfully, I cannot remember.

I was… unstable, to say the least. Literally.

I woke up in a grassy clearing, surrounded by trees. I could not get up, I felt dizzy. I did not know where or who I was. Everything had felt foreign, yet familiar, as if I should know, or I had seen something similar, but not quite.

But the most notable part—I did not feel… real. I suppose it was a sort of dissociative state. I felt hazy, light. The details are blurry. I think I had tried to stand up, walk around a bit. Get used to my surroundings… I remember the grass was quite soft, as if freshly grown. And the trees, they seemed impossibly tall. Though, I do not know enough about trees to say for certain.

When I had looked down at myself, it was… frightening.

I was some… strange, colorless, vaguely human thing, as if one was viewing me through… what is it called? A sort of frozen glass. I could not make myself out.

I knew I did not belong.

And yet, I could not leave.

Your brother. Atlas. He, too, knew I did not belong. As I looked back up, I saw him. A boy about my age, with long, red hair, and far too many layers of clothing. She was running towards me, and she looked horrified.

{Who are you?}

I could not answer.

They seemed to be studying me like some sort of… odd animal. They had just stared at me for a moment. Then, I saw it.

A large, glowing trident, the color of fresh crimson blood. Pointed towards me. He yelled, though I cannot remember what he told me. They looked terrified of me. The look in her eyes—an instinctual fear, anger. No true bloodlust, though that had not mattered. I suppose they were only defending themself from a potential threat.

The pain is something I cannot forget.

She knocked me to the ground, pinning me there with her foot. I could not have gotten up anyway. He shouted a bit more, and I remember the fear in his voice. That was the last thing I had truly registered before it hit me.

Pain.

Burning,

Searing,

Scorching,

PAIN.

My blood soaked the grass, staining it black, like a black hole swallowing my body as it was staked violently, ruthlessly, mercilessly, by HIM.

I do not remember if I had screamed, tried to fight back, or gone limp and allowed the earth to consume me, the hellfire to envelop me until I was nothing but ashes. The ringing in my ears, the metallic taste as I choked on my own blood, all of it faded as quickly as it came.

Then,

a dark void.

…

Artemis was quiet.

As was Melinoë.

Artemis drew in a shaky breath, their feathers rustling as they tried to process what Melinoë had told them. It seemed… so unlike Atlas, to do something like that. But again, it was also unlike Atlas to…

“(I’m sorry.)”

Melinoë sighed, gently cupping Artemis’s face with one hand. “/Oh, goodness, why are you apologizing? It is not your fault, little dove./“

They didn’t answer.

Everything Artemis knew about Atlas— their kind, loving, funny, eccentric brother— the one who had always been there for them, even if Helios wasn’t. The one who laughed at all of their jokes, even if they weren’t funny in the slightest.

Was it all a lie?

Artemis bit back tears as they leaned into Melinoë’s hand, saying nothing.

What was there to say?

Ymnx bfx tsqd dtzw knwxy rnxyfpj.

[thevoidgalactic]

Hey, here’s my extremely real concept sketch for the definitely legitimate new FD character! Coming soon to a crazy girl store near you 💜💙❤️🖤

[thevoidgalactic]

”Heave ho, heave ho, On this eerie night we row, Where the dead rise to tell The tale of old Keelhaul Joe Jash? Through the Phantom Sea we go…”

So uh. Sail North jashling. He’s mine I don’t CARE if someone somehow did this first. He’s MINE. Go my scarab

P.S. LISTEN TO SAIL NORTH IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY HE’S REALLY COOL /GEN

[thevoidgalactic]

I wanna be a broozer too 🙁

[thevoidgalactic]

there we gooo!!!

Would you believe this one only took a day? I’m VERY proud of this one .. it’s short and pretty simple but still very pretty to me I’m very happy with this

[thevoidgalactic]

”Like a poem said by a lady in red, you hear the last few words of your life.” (pspsps hey lesbians I have a present)

@bluestarlett

[thevoidgalactic]

HAPPY (belated) CHAOS WEEK!!! (Or, in other words, the art of delayed gratification)

[thevoidgalactic]

happy cupids day to all of my moots!

its my first valentines day spent single in a while so im trying to cope as best as i can

so if youre pinged, you are automatically my valenmoot

its like cupid brought us together but instead of bow and arrows its reblogs or something. totally platonic thing btw !! valentine moot.

@bluestarlett @egoisticqueerunderanydefinition @adhdrizzy @moonys-chaos @thevoidgalactic @whitenoise-telepath

[thevoidgalactic]

In her tongue she said, “Death or love tonight!” Or, me experimenting with my style because I can <3

[thevoidgalactic]

I heard we’re drawing our sonas (I just wanted an excuse to post mine…)

[thevoidgalactic]

I don’t wanna lose my own reflection. {One, two, three, break!}

{𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢— 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘰. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘵— 𝘉𝘶𝘵, 𝘩𝘦𝘺, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦! 𝘕𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.}

—

Atlas keeps trying to justify his actions.

It’s all worth it, right?

“{I didn’t have much of a choice, anyway.}”

Atlas paced around Helios’ room, his arms crossed as her gaze darted around.

Helios couldn’t respond, of course. He laid on the bed, bandaged to absolute hell and glaring silently at Atlas. He couldn’t speak or sign, and the phantom pains kept his senses too distracted anyway. All he could do was barely register Atlas’ words.

Atlas glanced at Helios and paused. The look in their eyes was one of someone who’s entirely lost themselves. She crept towards Helios, furrowing his brows slightly. “{I guess you don’t have any comment. Heh- that’s not my fault, anyway.}” She crouched down by his bedside, tilting their head. “{I don’t know what’s gotten into you both.}”

Helios scowled at her. Atlas’ tone was like that of a mother lecturing her small children, as if they weren’t all the same age. Atlas barked out a laugh.

“{Don’t look at me like that,}” He said harshly. “{None of this would’ve happened if you two behaved like adults. I did what I had to—though I can’t help but wonder if I was too harsh on Artemis.}” She frowned slightly, then shrugged, returning to her pacing.

“{No matter. They’ll survive.}”

[It didn’t feel like it. His heart ached—literally. The throbbing pain was more than enough to tell him that Artemis was hurt. Or worse.]

“{I did the right thing. I signed up for this. It’s gonna hurt, but that’s how we’ll become Whole. This is how we’ll finally make Him proud.}”

[Who is “He?”]

“{I have to do this. You know that, right, Helios?}”

[No.]

“{Ah, right. Can’t talk. Oh, well. I’ll have to work on that, eventually.}”

Helios narrowed his eyes. He drew in a long breath, forcing a few words out. “[Do you… even care?]” He screwed his eyes shut, coughing painfully. Atlas suddenly grabbed him by the neck, her claws digging through the bandages.

“{Really? REALLY? I go through so much for you, I do SO MUCH for you, for US. And you have the audacity to ASK IF I CARE?}” They screeched furiously.

Helios’ eyes widened as he flinched back, staring at Atlas fearfully.

“{Oh, and now you’re scared of me. Joyous.}” He snarled, letting go of Helios. “{You’ll never see things the way I do.}”

As he turned to walk away, one more comment stopped them in their tracks.

“[I hate you.]”

She smiled coldly, though Helios couldn’t see. They tilted their head slightly, drawing out the silence for an uncomfortably long time. “{I’m sure you do, brother. I’m sure you do.}”

You are convinced that you did what you needed to, what was necessary in your eyes. You’d never admit it, but Helios’ comment hurt you. Deeply. You’re trying your best, right?

Or do you need to do better?

Atlas clutched their rosary beads to their chest, staring into the mirror in the corner of her room.

It was clean, perfectly polished, a stark contrast to the rest of his room. He couldn’t bother with the rest, but this? The ornate golden frame, the marigolds growing near the base, though he didn’t know how they could grow. This was his only reminder of their goal.

Her God.

The only flaw it had was the reflection it held.

Painfully human—even less than human. The shadow covering half of her face, the horns protruding from his skull, the dried blood beneath their claws. The many eyes that stared back. Full of rage and terror.

Flawed.

Atlas glared at his reflection. They couldn’t tarnish His visage like this. The mirror was so perfect, so beautiful, just like Him—he needed to retain that.

And truthfully, she barely even recognizes the person in the mirror. They hate them.

It’s you.

But is it really? After what you’ve done, is it still you?

You don’t know the eyes that stare back at you.

How can you look at yourself? How can you perceive the person you’ve become?

N mtuj ymnx mzwyx.

She stared at her bleeding fist. Then at the shards on the floor. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he stared at his shattered visage, distorted and skewed. The rosary beads twinkled mockingly in the light, lying among the shards. But the rest of the mirror?

Oh, it was even more beautiful.

No longer did their reflection mar His perfection. Even as he fell to his knees, sobbing and clutching their hand, they smiled. He would be proud. He would appreciate all that she’s done for Him, even if no one else did. They would draw blood for Him, over and over again, as much as necessary. They wanted to—how he longed to lessen himself, to be farther subhuman, bloody and torn—all for His glory.

And that’s all that mattered.