#and theres still remains of the ashes

[jinnyart06]

Somewhere in Flevance, the embers still glow.

#imagine him returning to the place #everything he knew and loved #covered in snow #and theres still remains of the ashes #i love him idk why i draw him sad #trafalgar law fanart #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d waters law #law one piece fanart #one piece fanart #anime fanart #illustration #trafalgar law x reader #my art

[destructive-path]

thinking abt 80s arcade junkie!ellie who spends her free time trying to beat the high score on a pinball machine…..(sfw)

press play

it was the summer going into 8th grade when a new arcade opened up in town, and riley practically had to drag ellie to the building. the girl was reluctant to be in the presence of an excitable crowd. especially when most of the patrons would surely be fellow youth that she had grown a distaste for. however, as soon as ellie stepped into the establishment her breath was taken away. she was hypnotized by flashing neon lights, sounds of lazers, levels ups and more. but what really drew ellie in was the fact that the arcade had a space theme. needless to say she went back to the arcade every day that summer, and pretty much any day she could after that.

this brought us to now, where a twenty one year old ellie was still a regular at the arcade.

- ellie perfected her routine a few months back, the moment she steps into the building she goes to the bar for a pint and promptly lights a cigarette, starting off on a more simple game to ease her into night of fun and frustration

- after she’s satisfied with her literal pregame and her cig is nothing but ash in a tray, ellie makes eyes at her usual pinball machine, deciding its time to get serious (lock in ppl). on the busier days she has to wait to play because theres usually some kid smashing the games buttons and watching the lights flash in awe (similarly to how she did when she first came to the arcade.) as she makes her way to the game she fishes in her pocket thats filled with quarters, then pulls out a singular coin and places it on the edge of the machine. followed by an intimidating “i got next.” and the surrounding crowd groans in annoyance because everyone knows once ellie gets on the machine, its hers for the night.

- ellie never fails to bring her walkman to drown out the surrounding chaos of the arcade. she used to find the noise comforting, but the more she strived to beat the highscore the less she appreciated the distractions the arcade had to offer. it also didnt help that people (who didnt care to play said game) would flock around ellie to watch her play. her skills were unmatched. even though she had yet to beat that god forsaken highscore.

- now, even though she tried her best to remain civil, (not rlly) ellies temper often got the better of her. the woman had a bad habit of kicking the machine and swearing a nasty “fuck!” anytime she accidentally let the silver ball fall inbetween the pair of neon pegs and back into the machines possession rewarding her in a soul crushing game over. “watch it williams!” became such a popular saying amongst the employees that soon after even the customers would chime in when she lost her cool.

- ellie gets special treatment out the wazoo!! she always brings friends here for a free meal (the arcade pizza go crazy) because everyone loves ellie! it also helped that she paid her dues doing a grueling year of at the work at the arcade during her senior year of high school. she was always mumbling something about how expensive tuition college is. “fuckin art school….stupid…”

- oh boy this girl has a thing for girls who come into the arcade. (it was rare that she was graced by the gods with a presence of another woman in the arcade. let alone a gay woman.) but shes a terrible flirt! all she knows is play game be nerd :( but the girls that come up to her are so pretty! and when they know about games? ellie would swoon. so of course she agrees when they ask her “will you show me how to beat the final boss, ellie?” with big wandering eyes. “please?” how could she not?

- riley and ellie team up for super mario tournaments held at the arcade at the end of each month. ellie insists on being luigi, riley could care less. the pair enter the contest for some friendly competition, but after years of practice they never fail to win. the prize always goes to the duo who gets second place. the pair never seem to mind.

- mullet ellie is in full effect. (i mean, its the 80s…) that is until one day she was playing her game and grew sick of her hair falling in her face and covering her eyes. ellie swore it had effect on her performance, no one else bought that excuse though. so in a fit of rage she stormed into the neighboring barber shop and demanded they cut her hair as soon as possible. she left with a shorter cut then anticipated, and a much cleaner style than her usual effortless messy look. ellie didn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the week. “oh..looking very sharp today williams!” ellie made a mental note to start bringing a headband to the arcade, and to not be so impulsive.

- ellie always stayed until well after closing time, waiting for the staff to close up shop and smoke their post close cigarettes. the woman loved her silly pinball game and the joy and determination it provided. but these moments always held the most weight in her heart. just shooting the shit with a couple of fellow nerds. this is really why she came back so often. this was ellies community! and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

a/n: i went to an arcade recently and i couldn’t stop fantasizing abt this….pls consider reblogging! my reach is dead and i could really use the support 🫶🏽 *kisses u but only if u want it*

divider creds

#ellie williams #the last of us #lesbian #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie drabble #ellie williams oneshot #i love ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie imagine

[starrynightnight]

weight of the world

☆ ♡ ☆

welt yang x reader

wc: fuck if i know

a/n: its 1am, this shit aint proofread in any way, and i am running simply on the fact i had to get this outta my head or i couldnt sleep. enjoy, or dont, idc.. if theres any inconsistensies with the lore shhhhh there isnt shshhshhh we retcon shit in this house

notes: gn! reader (at least i think i didnt use any gendered terms for them), reader is implied to have sacrificed themself, i am not familiar with honkai lore AT ALL

☆ ♡ ☆

it was too sudden back then.

the stand against sirin, ottos betrayal - welt had really held his own

and yet, when the dust settled, he couldnt do more than hold your lifeless remains close, tattered from the hell they went through.

he vowed to never forget you. just like he carried humanity, he carried you within his heart.

still, he couldnt help but forget. nothing could replicate your scent, your touch, your love. nothing in this world would even come close to the salvation that was holding you close.

which is why it was both an immense relief and a stab through his chest seeing you again, alive and well, living among 'your' people.

because you were here, right in front of him, offering your assistance in finding and removing the stellaron from your planet. but you werent his.

the 'you' that was welts was now nothing but ash and bittersweet memories, flickering through time.

the threat of the stellaron was soon quelled, thanks to the trailblazers from beyond the stars. while your people celebrated, you sat further away from all the chatter and laughter. big gatherings were never your thing, but for once you could indulge in the glee of your people from afar.

you felt the presence of the older trailblazer before you saw him sit beside you. no words needed to be said. for some reason, silence felt complete beside him.

you tried offering him and his companions the best accomodations your settlement could offer. its the least they deserved after saving your people, and you swear you saw his breath hitch.

it pained welt to say no to you, but he knew if he were to spend one more night here, he would never want to leave.

he would never want to go back home, because deep down he knew it was no longer 'home', not without you.

and you were here.

oh, how hed love to hold you, to kiss you, to completely indulge in you one last time. his hands didnt remember what your skin felt like, he couldnt remember your taste, your touch. time mercilessly eroded all he had of you.

and now you stand before him, and he cant have you, because youre not his.

but you are still you.

so he departs, because if he doesnt, he might never want to leave your side again. welt is a stranger to you in this world, and you are not his.

he leaves you with the words he wished hed told you sooner, before the ash coated your skin. before you ceased to be his.

"you need not carry the weight of the world alone."

#welt yang #welt yang x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr welt #lord have mercy i havent written anything in so long

[ironaparrot]

i wanted to bring this up because i know i make memes and jokes about the shadowtale characters and such.

Shaster (Gaster) is a genuinely horrible person. he's manipulative, mentally, physically, and emotionally abusive and manipulative. he's an egotistical narcissist who views other living and non living things and creatures as objects to be toyed with and experimented on.

Shadow has never been in a great state of mind. he's been pessimistic and nihilistic, and has reached the point of truly believing nothing matter before. part of the reason he's doing good now is both because he has friends he know cares and because he was fucking tired of being so sad, and moping all the time. he hated feeling down and like nothing all the time. the numbness almost felt worse then when he was actually crying and it was much more overbearing. he got tired of it. he forced himself out there. and he's actually doing better because of it.

Ash (Papyrus) tries his best to make people happy as much as drains him. he just wants to keep hope alive and keep people smiling. Papyrus is arguably at one of his lowest points currently. He feels hatred for his brother, uncertainty for his father, and is drained beyond belief. The only person he feels like he can truly vent to and just collect himself about is Mettaton. He hates Shadow for abandoning everybody, he has existential dread due to the existance of the multiverse, and doesnt understand why Gaster is making him keep it a secret, as well as the augmentations related to the void.

Raspberry (Mettaton) Is trying his hardest along with Papyrus to keep moral high, and people happy. he knows how much people really rely on him and need him to be at tip top best. its draining, but he knows it has to be this way. Him and Papyrus are very close and he thinks Papyrus is his closest friend, and is concerned for his sudden change in appearence, attitude, and he can just tell theres something building up thats going to boil over at some point.

Flowey is constently afraid. he's afraid of the infected and uninfected alike. he doesnt know where chara is and he doesnt remember chara being the one who killed him initially. the only time he gains some semblance of comfort is when frisk falls, and when he eventaually finds chara again.

Chara lives with the guilt of being the one who killed Asriel. she hates herself for it but knows it had to be done or else she would have died. she tries over and over to convince herself it was okay but she cant help but hate herself for it. the fact she ran away weighs heavily on her mind because she knows that to the dreemurr family they lost two children in one night. chara was eventaully found and kidnapped by gaster for a while. she was experimented on, abused and treated like a labrat. now that gaster has her with the rest of the survivors she's being blackmailed to stay quiet about what gasters real motives are to the people or else flowey will find out how he really died.

Plasma (Grillby) has almost given up completely. his daughter is infected and is slowly turning, its hard to keep people fed. he knows things are slowly going down hill and he's just waiting for the snowball to speed up at this point. the only reason he still gets out of bed in the morning is that way he can keep people fed, do his part, and because the somehow still alive burgerpants is too mentally unstable to do it himself. He's also being blackmailed by muffet.

Muffet is a crime boss essentially. she blackmails, threatens and harasses. she knows she's important because she can grab whatever remaining supplies are left from places the actual people assigned as guards cant thanks to her many many spiders. she views people as a means to get rich, and thats it. she, if anything, enjoys the apocalypse because it causes people to be reliant on her.

The AU is really screwed. Especially with the characters. Some are trying their best and losing, others have given up. Some aren’t even good people and are just using the apocalypse to achieve what they want because they can. So, enjoy. It’s less telling new info, and more putting things into perspective!

#undertale au #utmv #utau #shadowtale #shadowtale characters

[catholic-character-tournament]

Finals - Resurrect Bracket (Losers Bracket)

ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to [make it to the finals]

Propaganda below ⬇️

Gabriel

Well he's an angel so I'm taking him being catholic as canon. There are a lot of themes in the game that point to catholisism specifically.

He's so fucking funny. he listens to nine inch nails and quotes one of the songs in a fight basically "fight me like an animal". he and v1 kind of have this yuri thing going on. he has an official bodypillow. hes a metaphor for being excommunicated and no one gets him like me and my friends do

The *true* Catholic experience is leaving the church and having a gay awakening, ask anyone

its debatable if Gabriel truly believes he's "the one true savior" or is mocking the idea of it

ok im actually gonna write some gabe propaganda bc despite what you may expect from a game called ULTRAKILL theres a lot to be said about his character and how catholicism is represented

Gabriel is a genuinely caring person who struggles to square his desire to help people with his duty as an archangel. He's the only one in Heaven trying to make things better for those in Hell, but his faith is used to manipulate him into committing atrocities against the people he used to protect (see the "TRAITOR" mural in 4-2)

he only realizes his mistakes after losing everything and being sentenced to death, but he still decides with only a little time remaining to try and make things right. for the sake of spoilers i will just say that the measures he takes are... extremely drastic and very enjoyable. i just really like the idea that even facing the end of all living things, no matter how steep your crimes, it is never too late to fix your mistakes. you are never unworthy forgiveness.

hes also SO FUCKING GAY for this dumb little robot. it mauled him so hard he tasted his own blood and he fell in love right there. theres no way this guy has a normal healthy relationship to pain he is soooooooooo fucked. i love him. please vote for Gabriel "patron saint of gay lapsed catholics" Ultrakill !!!!!!!!

Doomguy

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PUT DOOMSLAYER IN HERE

In the books he’s canonically Catholic. Haven’t played enough of the games to know but I think they keep it vague in the games. The books are pretty divergent from the games in some ways though so idk

Literally insane. Kills demons because of murder of pet rabbit. Traps himself in hell to give demons more whoopass.

In addition to being Catholic, Doomguy is canonically celibate, meaning he is, in fact, eligible to become the Pope. He’s also very proficient in exorcisms, if “blasting demons into a bloody mess with a shotgun” counts as an exorcism.

Literally kills demons & his universe’s equivalent of Satan

HE GOES TO HELL like 5 times to fight demons and protect earth. He’s also canonically celibate.

#gabriel ultrakill #ultrakill #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #r4losers #doom #doomguy

[trickstarbrave]

i am back with steren content in vivi's au again (from @mulberrycafe)

i didnt get to cover a lot about how vivienne feels bc this was pretty much just steren's perspective. and he is. he's not having a good time. i cant even imagine how helpless vivienne feels to know he's hurting but doesnt want to and wont listen to anything countering it bc hes. genuinely isolated and lost in a different world and thinks theres no place for him there.

there will be good things to come rn he's just suffering. he's a good boy, despite everything. but he'll get his love and comfort soon okay just wait

--

Steren learned he hated the cold. 

He thought he disliked it before when a cold wind would blow from the sea in northern Vvardenfell, but it was nothing like the chill you got on Solstheim. It was frigid, even in Redoran style buildings which tried to keep the freezing cold air out. 

A healer told him he likely had a naturally weak constitution to the cold; an unfortunately common thing for dunmer. Many could survive the cold so long as they had adequate shelter and warmth, whereas others would be shaking and develop hypothermia very quickly in any weather remotely cold, hence why so many remained on Morrowind’s mainland as overcrowded as it was.

Gods… Hearing the story of Red Mountain’s eruption only made this world stranger. Baar Dau supposedly fell and made the volcano erupt, where it still spewed ash and rock in the distance (when he could manage standing outside bundled up long enough). So much had changed… It had supposedly been 200 years or so since the Nerevarine prophecy was fulfilled. The Septim empire fell, there was an invasion from Oblivion--to be frank he still didn’t understand that, but made a mental note to pick up a few books on it--and probably more he’d hear about.

Vvardenfell was basically ruins. Refugees spilled out into Tamriel, and Solstheim was made an official territory of Morrowind. He had out of pure curiosity asked about House Hlaalu, and was told they were no longer a Great House and had basically been purged from Morrowind. 

It was… A strange place. That he couldn’t deny. A very, very strange world. 

Currently he was in the corner club--after being bundled in a few layers of thick wool and a heavy fur cloak by both healers and the hortator and his husband. The king of Morrowind tried to ask him to stay in bed and rest more, but Steren was getting stir crazy, and the healers assured him that walking around a bit would help Steren recover, so long as he stayed warm. 

Steren didn’t talk to people much. He was always told he was quiet, but he was even more so here. He wore a bandana to cover the star on his forehead (several of the citizens of Raven Rock gave him dirty looks and asked if he was a Sixth House cultist when he didn’t), and mostly just listened to other people talk while only half listening but giving the impression he was paying attention. A strangle blue khajiit told him stories from time to time, often repeating himself without realizing it, but more often than not it was a specific mer bothering him.

This elf wasn’t Vivec. He’d been corrected enough to know that, sometimes with fearful glances from servants at the manor as they did so. They warned him heavily that if he said that around the hortator and his husband they could cut his tongue out for the insult and transgression, and since then he had been careful with his tongue. Though talking to him revealed Vivienne was very different from Vivec in more ways that just a few differences in appearance. 

Vivec was… Distant. A bit cold. Sometimes indirect and obfuscating answers to the point of cruelty. It was impossible to tell where his lies ended and his art began--if Vivec truly believed what he said, or if he was saying what others wanted him to hear. 

For a time, in his first life, Steren considered Vivec a mentor figure. As arrogant as it was, the god seemed to show a particular softness to Steren. When he first went for answers he even thought Vivec might actually tell him; sit him down and explain his history and place in the world. Instead Vivec told him to stop looking for answers and shut up. To deal with his life and live in ignorance. Maybe it was out of fear Steren would want revenge. Maybe it was because he was genuinely trying to protect the boy. Steren didn’t know, and now he supposed he never really would. 

Vivienne though was… Different. Softer. Earnest. Nice, if he wanted to be charitable, though Steren tried to avoid people who he would describe as ‘nice’. ‘Nice’ in Morrowind was a red flag. Most people used seeming kindness and a pleasant attitude to manipulate outsiders and those who were unsuspecting, after all. Sweet words were so often followed by a knife in your back, a lesson he had learned so many times before. He’d been conned, stolen from, poisoned, and nearly killed by so many people he thought were nice. 

At the very least he didn’t think Vivienne was dangerous. At least, not a danger to Steren currently. From the stories he half listened too Vivienne seemed very powerful and wasn’t someone he wanted to get on the bad side of, especially not when he had very powerful allies, including the hortator and his husband as his mentors. 

“You’re… Oddly quiet.” Vivienne remarked. Steren--who was only allowed to drink tea after the hortator ordered no one in the corner club to serve him alcohol, though Steren couldn’t tell you why--sipped his drink. Maybe he’d pissed the king off, or perhaps he was worried Steren might drunkenly admit he was “Nerevar’s son” and the king wanted to avoid any rumors. Steren, if he was in Nerevar’s position, would also want to keep “illegitimate child from another world” a secret from the general public. Especially given he learned Nerevar and Voryn in his world couldn’t even have kids. That would be too weird to explain to the general public and would be best buried and never brought up again.

“I’m not sure what to say.” Steren replied, sipping his tea calmly. 

“It’s just,” Vivienne looked away slightly, “Typically you’d expect someone to give a reaction when you say you are practicing the Mephalan arts with their parents.” Steren didn’t really know a whole lot about Mephala except that she was the anticipation of Vivec. 

“I’m not very familiar with Mephala personally. Perhaps that’s why.” Wasn’t she the god of murder or something? It’s not like he cared if the hortator and his husband were teaching someone how to kill. It seemed pretty standard for dunmer culture. 

“... She’s the god of sex, murder, and secrets.” Vivienne admitted. Ah, maybe he was hoping to get a reaction from Steren with that? If it was something that would weird out someone to hear with their ‘parents’, Vivienne must be referring to the sex part of that explanation. 

“It’s hardly any of my business what you do with the Hortator and Hortator’s husband.” Steren wasn’t phased in the slightest. “And besides, they aren’t my parents, so it would be best if you avoided saying things like that about them publicly.” It was impossible to tell who might be listening in, after all. The corner club was mostly empty this time of day and they were tucked away in a secluded spot, but well… There could be eyes and ears everywhere. Last thing Steren needed was someone running through the streets tomorrow morning spreading half truths based on what they heard. He was busy trying to recover enough to get on a boat and leave this frozen island, after all.

An uncomfortable silence followed, Vivienne staring at him with at first confusion, and then something close to… Sadness? That didn’t make sense to Steren, but it was the closest emotion he could name. 

“They are your parents.” Vivienne insisted, his voice softer, trying to take on a gentle tone like one would coax a child. But to Steren it was just nonsense; this wasn’t a little lie you could tell him and have him play pretend with. 

“They aren’t.” Steren reiterated. “My parents are dead.” He sipped his tea again, not making a face despite how bitter and unpleasant it was. He made a mental note to just ask for water next time--it wasn’t poisoned, but it was nasty. The only reason he continued to drink it was because of how dry his throat was and how it kept his hands warm. “And it would be good to avoid saying things like that in case someone misunderstands.” 

“They might be dead in your world but they’re alive here.” Vivienne insisted, though he did try to keep his voice level. 

“They didn’t want me grow up.” Steren sighed. “They didn’t hold me as a baby. They didn’t name me. They don’t even know me, let alone love me.” 

They might have the same names and faces, along with some mannerisms, but that didn’t make them the same. They were strangers, as simple as that. Steren didn’t hate them or resent them--in a way he pitied their position. If they threw him out, they might anger Azura, and also didn’t want to be so callous towards someone they were told was their flesh and blood. Steren could tell they were trying, in bits and pieces. They had healers attend to him, gave him a bed to sleep in… Much more hospitality than the people of Morrowind usually showed strangers. But at the same time he knew they didn’t know what to say or do around him, hovering around him awkwardly. 

Perhaps, if given time, they could get to know each other. They could try and try to be close to one another and they could learn his mannerisms and history, to a degree. But Steren would rather avoid that; as sweet of an idea it might be, he knew he would begin to resent them. He’d resent that they didn’t know him well, couldn’t correct his memories, and didn’t have that shared history. He’d me more like an… Awkward younger brother than a son, at best. And trying in vain to replace his parents with imperfect copies would only break Steren more. 

“They do love you...” Steren resisted the urge to snap at the other mer, his eyebrow twitching. Instead, he bit his tongue, taking a breath to steady himself.

“No,” He replied, keeping his voice level, “They don’t.” Vivienne opened his mouth to counter him, but Steren continued. “They think they’re supposed to love a child that they were told they supposedly had, but that doesn’t make it love. That makes it an obligation.” It was the truth; a truth just as bitter as the tea he was drinking. His adoptive family in his first lifetime thought they loved Steren because they were supposed to, because a god told them to love and care for him, but that didn’t make it love. Eventually they resented him. Eventually they questioned why he was important in the first place. Eventually, without even realizing it, they shoved him out of his place in that family and house. 

“Azura dropped a new problem in their laps--a stranger they don’t know but were told they should care about.” It was, in a way, just a repeat of his first lifetime, except back then he was a young child who didn’t know any better and could barely remember his own father. Now he was an adult who could see just how unfair the circumstances were for everyone involved. Nerevar and Voryn never agreed to this, and Steren would have refused if he knew this would be Azura’s solution. “Do you think I wanted that? I wanted my parents. The ones who loved me.” The ones who chose to have him. The ones who struggled to keep him safe. “I wanted to be with my dad who spent thousands of years haunting my family line because he was afraid of leaving me alone. I wanted to be with my Ata who held me in his lap when he worked and named me so even if they couldn’t be open, my other father would always know I was his.” 

Steren had so many things he wanted to ask them. So many memories he wanted them to share. His birth, his first birthday, the first time ata took him to meet his ancestors at the family hearth… He wanted to listen to his dad sing him the lullaby he always did when Steren was hurt and alone, trying in vain to stroke his hair and reassure him. They could finally be together again, after thousands of years apart, as a family. No more madness, no more heart, no barriers between ghosts and the living. He wanted to hug both of his parents, in earnest, and tell them both he loved them. 

“... And instead I got... Strangers who lived different lives. Who could never have me even if they wanted to. Who never even thought about me until now, but are being asked to give me all the love and attention I wanted from my actual parents.” It was both cruel to Steren and cruel to them; how could this version of Nerevar and Voryn try to fill the gap his actual parents left behind? They couldn’t; it was asking too much of them to try. They had different stories and histories, different ways they lived their lives. You can’t just expect them to drop everything they’ve built for themselves and wedge a random fully grown dunmer in there as their ‘son’. Even if they did want a child, they should adopt one and love them from childhood instead, learn to bond with them and teach them in their own unique ways, rather than try in vain to live up to the standard of Steren’s without even knowing all they did. 

“I wanted to make up for lost time with them. And now I'll probably never see them again--they'll be stuck in the afterlife wondering where I am. What I'm doing.” That was his biggest regret in all this; if Steren had just waited, had just asked for something like a relic or money, he could have waited it out. He could have spent a few years traveling, made peace with his death all over again, and then ended it all. And then he’d be in Moonshadow properly, or the land of his ancestors, being embraced by his dad just like Nerevar promised. 

Instead, now Nerevar and Voryn would wonder for an eternity what happened to him and where he was. That welcoming embrace was never coming. 

They will never be able to tell him they love him again. 

“... I’m tired.” Steren quickly announced, getting up. Vivienne made a motion to stop him but he kept walking, partially limping. “I need to go lay down--sorry.” He apologized regardless, gingerly brushing off Vivienne’s hand. 

It wasn’t Vivienne’s fault either. No doubt to him his mentors were loving and compassionate people, but they weren’t Steren’s parents. Azura can try to say she technically upheld her end of the bargain all she wants, but they can’t replace Steren’s Ata and Dad. 

He took a deep breath in the cold air as he began his slow walk to the manor. He just had to hold out a little more. Just a bit more and he could get a boat and go somewhere else. Somewhere where he wouldn’t be reminded his parents were dead and he wouldn’t even meet them in the afterlife. Somewhere where no one knew the Nerevarine prophecy either, and he could disappear into a crowd. Somewhere he could start over and process his grief. 

But for now he needed to hold it in. Lashing out did no good; none of these people were his allies, sure, but they also weren’t his enemies. Just people in the same shitty circumstances; people he didn’t want to be around and who also didn’t want to be around him. Lashing out would only make him enemies of very powerful people and cause him more problems anyways. 

He just needed to keep his head down and wait.

#steren #steren nerevarine #vivi au #my writing #:(

[voidselfshipp]

Meetings of a distant past

Cw: none that I can think of.

Summary: Gerard Keay is sent to retrieve a book from the Institutes consultant,he soon learns to not judge a book by its cover.

->Only mutuals allowed to reblog

Gerard sighed,leaning his head Back on his chair a little bored as Gertrude skimmed through a few statements.

--instead of moping,why dont you get me a book from Ms.Raconteur's library?--The old woman with him asked,voice monotone,desinterested but laced with dry witt.

He snorted a chuckle--'m not mopin'

--Uh-huh-- she answered-- then go get me a book

Nodding he answers-- Okay,what book?

--the oldest edition of "forgotten myths of creation" ,any author as long as its the oldest

Gerard stands up,grabbing his jacket and turning to her boss--Very well, need me to get anything on the way back?

The archivist looks at the clock hung up on the wall,breathing out that mildly stale air of the archives,thick with the smell of paper and underground.

--Tea,its almost five anyway-- she answered, and heard him make his way to the door. Before he crosses the threshold of the entrance,a smirk appears on her face-- ah and by the way,Ms.Racounteur is a great conversationalist,so I wont blame you if you take a little longer than usual

Her assistant chuckles-- cmon,why would I?

--Well, She can be pretty charming, thats all

She can hear the skepticisim in his scoff-- eh,we'll see

As he leaves,she adds-- guess we'll see indeed

Outside of the archives, the weather is cold and cloudy,nothing out of the ordinary given that it was fall. Theres a few rain puddles from the storm the night before, and a few decaying leaves sit there floating in the shallow Water.

Gerars slips on his jacket and headphones, ready to blissfully ignore the world around him and walk. He knew the adress from previous times Gertrude had gone to the bookshop herself, it was pretty close to the Institute. And thank god for that.

This was the first time he ever went himself or even met this consultant though,so he felt a little curious and excited to see what Exactly this bookshop and its owner were like.

He choses as song and he starts walking,leaves crunching underneath his heavy leather and chained boots.

《Words like violence

Break the silence

Come crashing in

Into my little world

Painful to me

Pierce right through me

Can't you understand?

Oh, my little girl》

The music blasts in his ears and he happily walks along the streets,gaining a few odd looks given his deeply gothic appereance. His long,lucious black hair bounces a little with each step and the breeze that blows past him.

He smiles a little at these reactions hes getting,feeling the cold metal of his Ashely piercing press up against his upper lip.

It was the 21st century and people were still looking at people like him weird?

《All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms

Words are very unnecessary

They can only do harm》

The fifteen blocks or so down to the shop are a Straight shot from the Institute,which makes this easier. And it lets him zone out a little, as long as he stops and looks before crossing the road then hes fine.

He does wonder what kind of consultant this "Ms.Raconteur" is, why hire a paranormal consultant? Or any other kind, there were not Many scholars in the subject,and certainly not Many that could rival the archives knowledge of phenomena.

From his mom or gertrude,he shouldve heard of this consultant by now.

It doesnt settle right with him,somethings off or Hes missing something... or both.

《Vows are spoken

To be broken

Feelings are intense

Words are trivial

Pleasures remain

So does the pain

Words are meaningless

And forgettable 》

Finally he makes it to the shop, pretty inconspicuous and any sort of interest he might feel for it kind of gleans off of his mind. He doesnt pay it much attention up until he reaches for the door handle to enter.

Somethings off

He pulls away and walks back a few steps to look at it, at the sign above the entrance somewhat weathered by the elements with the name of the shop, at the blue and white striped overhang that covers the main display Window.

Its too inconspicuous,too quaint.

Theres normal people inside,few costumers just looking at books to their hearts contempt. He notices theyre all guarded by cats of all shapes and sizes.

Cats,theyre known for their connections to the supernatural,the Unseen world, they were seen as protectors,why are there so Many?

He knew paranormal like the back of his hand, he grew up around it, lived and breathed it.

Taking off one of his headphones, he sighs and quietly damns Gertrude for send him to this weird place. With one deep breath he walks to the entrance and pushes the door.

Above him a bell rings but nobody pays him any mind, he looks around to the main desk to see nobody there. Maybe the staff is on break or something

But just as hes about to enter the main corridor with all the bookshelves, he feels something brush against his leg.

He looks down and sees a cat,almost black except for the ends of his paws and the small heart shaped sploch on his forehead,those are white.

The feline meows at him as if reprimanding Him for being so careless. He chuckles and kneels to eye level with the pet, he reads the name on the tag "Marrow"

--Marrow Like Bone marrow?--He asked the cat,and he seemed to nodd. It catches him off guard and solidifies that something is off in this place-- odd name for a cat, sounds like my kind of name though

His feline companion purrs and he goes to scratch behind his ear. Marrow Leans into his touch and nuzzles his palm before sitting there expectantly.

--What? -- of course the cat doesnt reply,but he isnt sure if it Is because it cant or doesnt want to.

Gerard feels a little stupid talking to a literall cat but he relents-- Looking for books on myths of creation

Marrow stretches a little before walking down the corridor, he guessed he ought to follow so he does.

He knew cats could be trained but this was a little too much, there were too Many to be trained, and they were too Smart.

If he was a skeptic,Like that one pompous ass of a guy in research,something Simms, he would go for "the cats are trained". But he knew better.

Another thing that obviously told him that this place was off,was because it was too big to be a "hole in the wall" type store. The corridor was far too large and the sections this shop divided in were too much. Unless they were underground there was no way this could fit.

Doesnt surprise him much when he gets to the mythology section. He follows the feline to one of the bookshelves and finds the book he was looking for.

Gerard tries to strand on his tip toes to reach it,but he cant.

--Goddamnit--He jumps and fails again, and hes none the wiser to marrow scaling from one of the ladders up each row of overhang books to the one he wants-- what the-

The cat simply pushes the book down as if batting away a fly, and he catches it. Its heavy and dust covered, so aside from his forearms hurting from the impact,he starts to sneeze uncontrollably.

Marrow climbs back down,not caring for the sneezing fit his charge was in. He simply sits down and patiently waits.

He scratches his nose, sniffing-- bloody hell,nobody botheres to clean these?

The cat looked at him and he swears he hears it say something like "with how big this place is, do you really think she can clean all the books?"

The archival assistant looks around,startled and confused-- who said that?!

But he only sees marrow walk out of the section,and he did not want to be left alone in that place so he follows after it.

When he ends up back at the main desk, he sees the few costumers that were around have left. And at the main desk is a woman,quietly scrolling on her phone.

--Excuse me-- he says,setting down the heavy tome--im an assistant of gertrude Robinsons,a friend of your boss

The woman looks up, his eyes meet her bright green ones and as she sits up properly he can feel that whatever its off with this place,it comes from her.

--Ah,yes im good Friends with gertrude. I Belive youre Mr.Keay? She told me you were coming over to pick up a book

He freezes, looking at her,taking her in. Brown and gold hair and tied up in a bun with a few pearl decorated braids, bright green eyes that look back at him with Curiosity and amusement.

The fabric of her dark teal oversized shirt shifts as she moves from sitting to standing. And he notices the logo of the plastered on it,Depeche Mode.

It makes him smile a little-- ah,nice shirt- I like that band

She smiles too,bright and radiant-- yeah its pretty good. Anyway,this books for gertrude, right?

--Yes-- he nodded, taken aback by how pretty she looks smiling. His pale cheeks turn Pink with blush-- sorry I dont Belive I catched your name,only your last name

--Jerico-- she answers,scribbling down on some sort of book record-- Jerico Raconteur. you are Gerard,yes?

--Jerry,please-- he replied, fixing his hair a little.

--Alright,Jerry-- jer said,dusting off some of the dirt on the tome-- its all yours

--I actually need to get something else first,a quick errand. Mind if I leave it here and pick it up once im back or is there some sort of fee I gotta pay?

She laughs,soft In tone but loud in volume like crashing waves on the beach-- for pretty goths like you?,none

--"Pretty goths" Like me?-- he asked with a smirk leaning on the desk-- is that a pick up line,miss Raconteur?

Jerico shrugged with that same sly expression-- perhaps. A blatant one if so

--Whose to say im not into it?

--Glad you are

--Why?-- He asked,leaning further

She rolls her eyes and pushes a strand of black hair out of his face--Run along now, Mr.Keay, you have stuff to do,yes?

He pulls away,a little flustered-- seems so, whats your usual?

--You dont have to-

--I insist

Jerico sighs in defeat with a coy smile-- Hot chocolate or chai tea if they ran out of the other one, two croissants,normal ones.

He nodds--Very Well,be right back miss-- he bows a little and makes a little hand gesture, making her face tint Pink.-- Keep that book safe -- he throws a wink her way and leaving for the café nearby.

She sits back down,all afluster-- Jesús Cristo-- she whispers,passing her hands across her face-- goddamnit,Gertrude

Gerard doesnt go to the café right away, he has to lean on a wall out of sight to calm his beating heart. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and the blushing, and he cant wipe off that smile.

GODDAMN,she was pretty.

When he does return with the food, he enters and finds Jerico still there,playing with Marrow.

--Ahem-- he says softly, setting down on the desk the things he got.

--Youre back-- she answered, marrow gets up on the desk and nuzzles his hand-- he likes you,a lot actually

--Seens so-- he agrees,petting the feline-- why the cats,If I May ask

Jer shrugs as If trying to hide something-- place is pretty big,I dont want anyone Losing themselves in here and cats are pretty good...guides shall we say.

--Easy to train-- he agrees again,tone pushing for another answer-- this place seems a lot smaller from the outside

--Yeah, looks decieve I guess-- she answers,grabbing her cardboard Cup and taking a sip from her hot chocolate.

--Shouldnt judge a book by its cover?--He sits on the desk a little and she groans with annoyance.

--Horrible-- she half jokes,pushing Him playfully. -- why did gertrude send you

--she saw me "moping about" and told me to book it to the library,pun intended -- he said dismissively

She laughs again, looking at him with that mild pain that comes from awful puns-- moping about?

--I wasnt, just waiting for her to be done looking up a statement. I swear I wish that woman was a little more organized...

--Thats Gertrude for ya. Cant blame her though, the Institute is not very...reliable

--You can say that again-- he agreed,taking a sip from his coffee. She looks at him and Curiosity gets the better of her

--Let me guess,black coffee?

His cheeks go pink--No actually,cant stand it.  Its a...latte

She smiled-- dont worry,your secrets safe with me

Gerard laughs a little-- better be,I know where you work

And she joins him in laughter too,changing the subject to something else. Any excuse to Keep talking to him.

Eventually the hours pass,and by nightfall theyre still talking. Gertrudes coffee long since gone cold, and marrow calmly curled up on the Mans lap.

--Oh god,look at the time-- he mutters-- sorry I gotta go

--Nono youre good,sorry to Keep you

He shakes his head dismissively and Gently sets down the cat as much as it pains him. Then he takes one of the pens on her desk and her little record keeping Journal,writing a few numbers.

--Here, call me

She looks up at him with surprise but nodds with a flustered smile,clearly talen aback-- alright Will do -- then she makes a pause to think and then teasingly add-- I imagine in case gertrude needs anything?

Gerard snorts,taking the book and the cold coffee that he doesnt notice has lost its warmth-- nah-- he doesnt even try to hide it anymore-- i just want to ask you for a date later, id set it now but gotta see my schedule,and yours of course

Jeri chuckles at his forwardness-- well,as of right now theres a time in my schedule for you,Mr.Keay, tell me whenever youre free

He smiles,soft and genuienly moved at the interest they both have in eachother-- very well then, good night,Jerico

--Night,Jerry

Watching him leave,she feels marrow curl up against her.-- I think we'll see him around more,Marrow

Back at the Institute,Gerard scrambles into the archives to the yell of-- ive got book! And coffee!

Gertrude,who has been fixing up her desk while drinking from her own Cup of steaming hot coffee-- I dont fancy my coffee iced,thank you

--I didnt take that Long-- he sets down the book and the cardboard Cup.

--You left at five o clock, returned at seven pm. What kept you?--She asked with a knowing,teasing smirk.

--Nothing just...

--Jerico?

--Yes- no! Maybe...-- Gerard replied, looking away with his face Pink.

--Told you she was a charmer-- his boss replied with audible joy,flipping through the books pages.-- figured you wouldnt stay long given you said you wouldnt have to talk to her...

--Agh okay you made your Point,old cunt-- he answered with annoyance but fondness for her-- what is this statement about?

--One of the crew members from The Tundra, Captain Lukas' ship

--the captain Lukas?

--Yes-- she replied,stopping at the page that has the title "The Antiquarian,Queen of the sea and keeper of stories". -- one of the crew members reported seeing Lukas on the deck of the ship,talking all night to a mysterious figure in the water with a female voice, then when they were leaving for london once more,there was a gift left from that figure on the anchor,a necklace

--How do you know its not some set up or something?

Gertrude shrugged it off-- nobody can Keep swimming across the sea without dying,especially not at night. -- she takes a sip from her coffee-- say,do you know anything about the Antiquarian?

--Queen of the sea,Lady of stories,keeper of arcane knowledge. Just a myth-- he replied,reciting that information he knows by heart, not sure on what his boss was on about?.

--Just a myth? You just spent two hours with her,bought her coffee and plan on asking her out,boy. I think you should know more than that

--what- wait no- jerico is not The Anti-- he stops at gertrudes "are you kidding me?" Glare-- I noticed the place and her were...off but I didnt think-

--Beauty like hers fools the mind-- she answered-- I thought you out of everyone knew to not judge a book by its cover

He groans at the pun-- God awful

She smirks-- well then, sit down and let me tell you about the entity youre trying to woo. Might learn a thing or two

Gerard sighs-- well,im all ears....

#tex don't look! #gerard tag pendig #tma s/i

[impending-day]

Why Three Legged Dog by The Bengsons is a DL!Pearl song, an essay

hello, people of tumblr. i propose to you this.

i will be touching on the following points throughout this essay:

the dog metaphor

the dependency of another person

various other lyricism examples

the vocal quality

1. The Dog

if you cant tell, this song is called three legged dog. the singer, abigail, talks about being a dog caught in a trap (could be interpreted as the life series, or the specific soulmate aspect. more on that later). there isnt much more to it. shes a dog caught in a trap, and shes gonna chew off her foot to get free.

2. The Trap

her soulmate, scott, left her. and she never got over it, no matter how hard she wanted to, thanks to the soulmate mechanic. she was left hurt and stranded, forced to make do with the situation she found herself in.

now for some lyrics:

When we met, I broke in pieces And half of me went into you When you go, my shards will scatter Half of me is dying too

this is peak double life pearl. absolute peak double life pearl. she lost part of herself seeing scott and cleo team. she actively hurt herself, just so scott would hurt too. but in that, the same applies. when scott gets hurt, so does she.

I'm supposed to just keep walking I'm supposed to just move on No, I can't breathe without him l'll be nothing, yeah, I'1l be nothing yeah Oh when he's gone, when he's gone

she makes it her mission to mess with scott. she practically goes insane messing with scott. shes stuck like glue to him, even when he kept brushing her off for someone else.

l'Il be a pile of salt I'll be a river of salt

same as before: she doesnt get over his betrayal. at all. she holds that grudge- she holds lots of grudges- until the end of the line.

3. Other Lyrics

if im being honest, for these i dont have reasons. take them as they are. they fit.

I'm a dog in a trap I'm gonna chew off my foot And leave it behind Leave it behind in the ashes and in the soot

kinda fitting. you see it right.

I can't do it anymore I'm not strong enough for this I never, I never said that I could Well I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I Can't I can't I can't I can't I'm sorry

more on this in the fourth section.

I could leave this pain, I could leave this pain behind I could leave this behind Erase, erase my mind, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna rip my flesh I'm gonna, I'm gonna set myself Free! Free...

4. The Delivery

abigail is an incredibly talented vocalist. the track begins with her singing in a rather reserved way, but once she starts talking about the pain of the trap, the intensity picks up.

i would love to note the delivery of "i'd be a three legged dog." she says it three times in a row, and each has its own emotion. the first is ruefully factual, the second is the weight settling in, the third is cracking under the pressure.

and then comes the "i can't do it anymore" lines. theyre delivered in a way where you can hear the pain shes going through. its almost difficult to listen to because of how raw they are. they only get more unhinged when the other party is mentioned, such as the "half of me is dying, too" line.

she sounds desperate to "leave this pain behind," especially in the "erase, erase my mind" line (one of my favorites). and once she does, theres a moment of pause. the acknowledgement that she set herself free in one way, but part of her remains stuck.

thus, the "i'm supposed to just keep walking" lines, all the way to the end. shes still so bitter to the person who did this to her. she laments becoming a three legged dog, though it gave her freedom.

overall, one of my favorite vocal performances of all time.

and with that, my essay concludes. thank you for reading 🫡

#trafficblr #traffic series #double life #double life smp #dlsmp #dlsmp pearl #double life pearl #pearlescentmoon #double life analysis #dl pearl #dl pearl analysis #the bengsons #song essay #Spotify

[lainpsx]

my brain cycles through fantasy stories every year and i wanna write out whats been going on in my head

its about an android super soldier mecha girl living in a latestage capitalist dystopia. she was created to serve the military needs of the ruling powers and act as a propoganda-justice spreading heroine to enchant the public.

like any proper robot story, she gains emotions and sentience over time. one day she deserts to an opposing faction, but still finds that although she is serving a better cause, people only see her as a means to an end - a tool to sow bloodshed.

having no kin or home, she isolates herself deep within nature. during her solitude, a manmade apocalypse is triggered and nothing of her past remains. both the cities she protected and destroyed are nothing but rubble. the peoples she shielded and slaughtered are scattered and lost. how can she find peace when the ashes of her past slip between her bloodstained fingers?

as the only remnant of the past, she must climb to the mantle of messiah. she us the only one who can salvage humanity, build new towns, ensure the world survives and stays a righteous course. but what abour her own happiness?

also her legs are on a gyro, she has guns for fingertips (aigis style), hover-skates for feet, and jet propulsion. and theres kaiju

[sasster]

WELL there are a bunch of different ways for disposition of a body! where i'm from, the most traditional method is burial. it's common for a body to be embalmed before burial, usually either for religious reasons or if it's a very well known person (many people wish to see the deceased one last time). there is also just natural burial without the embalming, but (where im from at least) this also means the burial must be soon and there will be no open-casket service.

embalming > service > burial is typically the most expensive option. ive seen funerals that climbed up to $25k (most of the cost is in the funeral service alone). most natural burials just skip the embalming, but there still may be a service! and they are typically buried in a casket the same way.

the second-most popular is fire cremation, which is pretty well known. it's also one of the cheaper options. some people like to scatter the ashes, some people like to bury them in a cemetery plot. theres also little keepsake urns and jewelry so that you can keep some of the ashes with you while the rest are scattered/buried/etc.

there are probably more alternative methods of disposition than i can think of at the moment, but some are varying "green" methods of burial that dont involve embalming or caskets as well. there are a good amount of options for post-mortem donations, although those usually have to be set up by the decedent prior to death. there's also donations to body farms (the one i mentioned for myself), where scientists study how bodies decay in various ways. after a body has completely decomposed, the farm will usually pass along the bone remains to a forensic anthropology lab for further study!

my ultimate favorite is alkaline-hydrolosis! while it's not (yet) legal in the district i live in, mortuaries that utilyze it refer to it as "wet cremation" on paperwork. how it works is a decedent's body is loaded into a chamber similarly to fire cremations, but instead of fire, the body's natural decomposition process is sped up using chemically-treated water. this leaves the bones (and whatever various solids, ex. metals) perfectly clean and ready for processing into ashes.

you dont seem like you'll pass anytime soon since, yknow, ur a fuschia, but it's always worth thinking about it in advance. if not for yourself then for your loved ones, so that they'll have somewhat peace of mind that they won't be left to flounder after your passing!

(excuse me for infodumping chase)

"Right.

I'll keep all of this in mind.

You sure did just drop all that on me huh. Special interest of yours?

It wouldn't hurt to talk about what I'd like done, I suppose. You understand trolls don't normally care much for this sort of thing, yes?"

#maelia #miks-fantrolls #askter #long post #death ment // #ask to tag?

[marzipanlvr]

theres nothing much to write about when you say you’ve been through it 

raw words can’t stop you from falling down the jagged peaks

thought you were flying towards the horizon

it was a mirage

all of it 

its pure substance 

i feel so stupid 

when you look like you’ve seen it all 

yet you still got room to fall down down 

when you think you’ve done it all

you’re not in your place to decide that you’re through 

the burning embers glow in the fire 

its ashes remnating like the sands of time 

with your smile and your lips lit the matches 

for the spark of the flame i fan on 

unconsciously, consciously

explicitly, inexpicitly gone 

the will to live is not determined by those whom you please

you learn to love you learn to live swimming by the beach

the sand between your toes speaks words louder than you’ll ever know 

ever know

don’t forget the part of you that never wanted to leave

it still remains it still stays fragmented pieces

yet you look in the mirror wishing for something more

when all you had and all you were were already there before

blind looks in your eyes 

blank smiles, thin tiles 

the trees and the birds 

the texture of you’re favorite blanket 

tucking you in when all was well

twinkling stars above

you thought they were sending morse code to the earth

aliens are they real maybe not 

why dont you find out when you’re older

work for the government expose their secrets

living in the ignorance of the moment 

don’t be so blue when it doesnt really matter

but you can’t shake off your roots no matter how hard you try

acceptance will come little dove my darling

no one sees as you are as you see as yourself right now 

its hard to understand the meaning of your hands

and why they have scars like constellations 

when you don’t have someone to hold on to 

when the waves are rough and tall 

the sky starts to fall

raining acid pouring from your cheeks

blending with the tears evaporating in your sleep 

wake up and know there’s a new day ahead 

although it seems that yesterday hasn’t finished yet 

you forget your worth lets be honest

dont think once about the life you are living 

hang your shoes above the closet 

run barefoot meet the trees play with your daughter 

dont forget the mess you’ve made

when you had nothing to say 

when conscience was bleak and ignorant peak of the father 

mother, help me 

#poetry #poems on tumblr #words #my words #words words words

[daffodilfool]

Diary Entry.

Wednesday 04-10-2023

It's spooky month

i missed the first couple days but god damnit who cares

I keep this diary for ME and MYSELF ONLY!

i had a thought this morning which i dont know how to feel about it

i find a strange comfort in knowing the last thing ill ever remember is Outer Wilds

when im 90 years old and riddled with alzheimers and dementia and i've forgotten who i am, who my friends and family are, and everything ive ever made, i will still cry when i hear the calm guitar of timber hearth and the rushing water of the geysers

theres a tumblr post i think of from time to time, while its not exactly a poem in the traditional sense i do think it would be fair to call it such

"I hate it when I can't even write a poem about something because it's too obvious. Like in the aribnb I was at I guess it used to be a kid's room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. Like that's the poem already what's the point? You get it. You get the themes. I don't have time to do it justice. Just look at it. It's on the ceiling."

[Permalink to the tumblr post]

theres a lot of stuff like this

i too have a painted over glow in the dark star in my room

well

a chunk of it

the adhesive stuck to the wall so well we couldnt get it off and the arm snapped leaving only the tip glued to the wall

i still see it through the paint sometimes and wonder if someone in the future will see it and think about it when we eventually move out of the house

fossils too

a living being from millions of years ago frozen in time, quite literally set in stone

as little as a half mandible is enough to reconstruct an entire animal and its life

the lives of those around it

here we are, millions of years later, fawning over a rock with an odd shape

we give it life

we give it personality

we study every inch of its remains all to craft a story of the unknowable world before us

part of it is pursuit of knowledge, sure

but deep down do we really ponder the past because WE want to?

or do we remember the lost souls who have slumbered within the earth for eons to keep the memory of those who are no longer with us alive

Death in life is the death of the body, yes, but so long as you've made a mark, any mark, any sign of your existance, did you ever truly die?

Outer Wilds is poetic

it drives us to find out the dreams and goals of the Nomai

and we say we do it because we want to figure out the mystery

but if it really was just that, how come i still think about Outer Wilds despite knowing everything that happened

to the Nomai

to the Hearthians

to the Owlks

I'm done with Outer Wilds

I've done everything

theres nothing more for me to learn

and yet i keep returning to the game

if for no other reason than to simply say hi to the Hearthians

and to honour the dreams of the Nomai

and to help the Prisoner move on

why is it that when i open the game i spend my first 10 minutes simply standing in the middle of the town and listen to the rushing waterfall and the soothing music

and why is it that when i hear the banjo and the crackles of the Hatchlings campfire get lit, I cry?

by the time im old

when my brain has rotted

i will be looking through everything ive ever written

everything ive ever said

ill be looking through this very diary

you wont remember me

you wont remember baba

you wont remember thyme, or ava, or nessie, or ash

you wont remember your sister, your dog, your mom or dad

you wont remember all the poems you wrote

you wont remember all the drawings you did

you wont remember all the characters you've spent so much time playing with and putting in silly situations

you wont remember the nomads

you wont remember the Janitor

but I know for a fact that whoever is taking care of you by then will put on the theme of Outer Wilds

and i know for a fact that you will remember

You'll shed a tear, and it will be the product of every piece of art you've experienced, everyone you've ever cared about, everything that has had an impact on you, molded you and changed you as a person.

In that moment, though you may not remember me, you'll know that we're still the same person.

Deep down I know you're aware that, despite everything,

I love you.

#diary #outer wilds #echoes of the eye #art #poetry #poem

[axewieldingloverboy]

Conversations with the past.

I wake up in a dream where I stand in a forest I used to spend time in, now nothing but wreckage. I am alone with my younger self who desperately clings to me and begs me not to leave. We stand amongst the rubble, ash floating in the dark skies. I push him to the ground, in a ruthless attempt to get him off of me, but he grabs my leg.

“We can’t go. You can’t leave. I’m not done here yet.” He pleads as he scrambles to drag me back into the destroyed woods that once stood so tall. It was much smaller, and weaker, than I remembered.

And I can’t seem to get him to understand that there’s nothing left for him here. I know I am doing nothing but betraying myself, but still I will attempt to walk away from the boy I once was. He sits defeated, watching me as I walk away.

“You can pretend to be kind, but look at you. Change all you want, but I’ll know what you are. I’ll know what you’ve done.” Venom and spark spew from his gnashing tongue. “You’re just like our father.”

I stop in my tracks at his words, and in one quick turn I make my way back over to him. Anger fills my body like a shot of rage being poured in through my veins, it moves me. As I stand tall over my younger self, sitting pathetically amongst the wreckage, I raise my fist.

But gently, I will grab his sore, tired body and embrace it in mine. He’s right. I am a bit too much like my father. But one thing time has taught me, is that I don’t have to be. So I will drag this boy by the underarms and I will take him with me. I will move on, even if he kicks, and claws, and screams. I will only respond in compassion and love, because I know. I know.

“There is nothing for you here, we need to let go,” I will plead with him through strained lungs as I continue to drag the fighting boy through the fragments of the past that shouldn’t have ever been.

“I can’t! God, don’t you see this is all we have left? Tell me now. Tell me what you have thats any better than these remains?” He argues. I’ve always argued, I’ve never known how frustrating the defiance was until now.

I drop him and he scrambles to his feet. I notice his stance, I know it to be the once I take when I am ready to fight. I’m far too tired to fight with the past, I know I cannot win, so I speak.

“I get to go to the park, and see families with their children. I get to see how lovely and innocent people can be. I get to play with puppy dogs, and sit peacefully under the sun. I get to make friends, and long-lasting memories. More than that, I get to be with the girl we love. And I get to live a painfully boring life with her. And it’s fantastic.”

I am taken back to the times my darling sat with me and helped me recover after I had gotten myself into many dangerous situations. I remember her scolding me, I remember her frustration. I understand her frustration now.

“You don’t get to love, but I do. You only get to survive this world, but I get to live in it. So you can make your choice, but I am not leaving without you. Put down your arms, and let me show you what it means to be at peace. There is no war, there is no enemy. Let’s learn to live.”

It is awfully quiet for a moment, I dig my heels into the ground, and so does he. It appears we are at a standstill, I’ve always been terribly stubborn, but I will not leave, I will take him with me no matter what it takes.

“You have been through too much.“ I speak again.

“I don’t know where to put all this anger.” He responds, his head turned down facing his mudded shoes.

“You let it go. Thats all you can do, is just make peace with it, and let it go.”

“What do I do when this is all Ive ever known?”

“Oh, but theres so much else to know, thats the beauty of life. When things crumble, you discover something new someplace else. And again, and again. You have opportunities to discover something wonderful every step forward you take. But there is nothing more here, so we need to move elsewhere now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You didn’t really want to do half the things you did while this place was still standing. And yet blood stains your hands.”

There is only silence once again. Only a sniffle breaks the quiet as my younger self takes a deep breath in. The air around us weighs heavy.

“I’m sorry if I hurt anyone.” He says, his eyes still meeting the floor.

“I forgive you,” I respond sincerely as my hand grasps his. Both equally as calloused, both equally as toughened and stained.

And so we will make our way out of the destruction, and into the present. And I will show him the books I have gotten, and the writings I have created. I will show him how to make art. He will be shocked to know I haven’t touched substances in ages, and that our darling is still by our side through it all. And he will know now. He will know that life can be so wonderful, and that we are nothing like our father, and we have the potential to be something so much more.

My past is laid to rest as I wake up from my dream. The sun shines quietly through my window and I take a deep breath in. I don’t know if my future will be any easier, I know I have my fair share of issues, but I will make peace, and I will live. I owe it to him, to myself, to the boy I once was. And so I will live. I will live.

#poetry #writing #original poetry #poems #poem #poems and poetry #original poem #original writing

[quirkless-accident]

LoV kidnapping: arent you tired of being nice? Dont you want to go ape shit? Theres evil in you, BECOME A VILLAIN!!!!

Danny who already went through Dan: lol what?

Danny groaned as he woke up, blinking the stars out of his eyes. He tried to lift his hands, but one simple tug told him they were being restrained against the chair he was sitting in. Maybe he could-No, intangibility apparently doesn't work. His parent's invention? Maybe Vlad's?

"Spooky's awake," somebody off in the corner said. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. He did, after all, engulf the training camp in blue fire. How long ago was that? He could still feel the burn of ash in his lungs, so he either hasn't been out for too long, or he's a lot more injured than he originally thought.

He looked around, throwing a particularly nasty glare in the fire user's direction. He was in come kind of bar, with a TV on a small stand across the room and a bunch of villains hanging around looking very put out.

"Oh, I loved your performance in Phantom of the Opera," Danny told him, venom lacing every word. And, yeah, Danny knew it wasn't okay to make fun of one's disfiguration, but he was an asshole that hurt his friends, so he'll make an exception just this once.

"He's familiar with the theatre?" Marble Man asked, almost hopefully.

"Enough, already," said a voice from Danny's side. Even without looking he knew who it was by the chills that went down his spine.

"Nomu," he had said at the USJ. "Kill him."

"Eraserhead is so cool!"

"This brat is more than just an NPC. Maybe he's useful..."

"Shigaraki," Danny spat. "What the fuck do you want?"

"That's no tone for a hero," Shigaraki leered as he came into Danny's view.

"Perhaps you should extend our offer," Mr. Compress said with a flourish.

"Join us," Shigaraki said, putting his hands on Danny's arms and leaning into his face. Danny tried to lean back, but the chair was stopping him. He instinctively turned his face away, acutely aware that the only thing keeping him from turning to dust were Shigaraki's pinky fingers. God, did villains never brush their teeth?

"Why would I do that?" Danny asked, voice strained from the awkward position.

"Because!" Shigaraki threw himself off of Danny dramatically. "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go ape shit like you did at the sports festival?"

As if on cue, the TV flickered to life, showing a reel of Danny in his fight against Bakugou. It was a closeup of his face, with his glowing fist pulled back for a massive punch. His eyes were wide with anger and his lips were pulled back in a snarl, showing off his fangs that insisted on growing in. He remembered being upset, though he can't remember why. He just needed someone to take it out on, and Bakugou had been more than willing during their round.

"The potential is oozing out of you, Fenton," Shigaraki said, gesturing to him burying Bakugou's face in the dirt and pulling his fist back for another punch as his other held his classmate's face down. "I've never seen a more bloodthirsty look on someone so young."

Danny's gaze flickered over to Toga, but he remained silent. These guys were seriously asking if he wanted to join the dark side? Do they even have cookies? No, it would appear not. It doesn't matter either way, though. Danny's seen what happened in a world where he was evil. He had no intention of making that a reality.

Every time he thought about his future he wanted to throw up, because every time he thought of Dan. His wicked grin, piercing red eyes, flaming hair. He had been so cold, and a powerhouse that decimated Japan in one week. The memory of his friend's dead bodies lying around the ground, bleeding and broken would forever haunt his dreams.

He was not going to let that happen.

"I think you got the wrong guy," Danny told them. In the corner, he heard Dabi snort, but it was quickly covered up by an elbow from Spinner.

"You're him, though," Magne said, looking between Danny and the TV.

"Yeah, I'm him. But if you want a superpowered brat to join the dark side, you got the wrong guy," he clarified. "So you can take your offer and shove it."

"I know all about you, Fenton," Shigaraki said, enunciating the syllables in his name. "Your parents don't care about you. Society cast you aside when they thought you were weak. They would have rather seen you splattered across the pavement than someone who stood up to them. So why? Why be a hero?"

"So I can help people," Danny said with a shrug. "I don't care about being famous or known or any of that dumb bullshit. I just want to do what I can."

"But why?" Shigaraki was genuinely angry now. Like he couldn't wrap his head around why someone would ever want to be a hero. And Danny could understand why. He knew why he had become evil in an alternate timeline. Because heroes and people alike disregarded him at every turn and never gave him a chance. And from the looks of it, Shigaraki got the same treatment and a worse support system.

"I don't know how to explain it," he said honestly. "It's just a gut feeling. I know my purpose in life isn't to help you destroy the world and kill All Might or whatever other super cliché evil things you've got planned. It's to help people the way I never was."

"How naïve," Shigaraki sneered, turning away from him angrily. "You share the ideology of children, blindly worshipping a hero world and a hero government that-"

"-I'm not," Danny says firmly. "I don't trust the system. The Commission is just as terrible and corrupt as the GiW. And the hero ranking system is a joke. But the best way to change something is to do it from the inside. Not world domination."

Shigaraki opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a knock instead.

"Pizza's here," someone said. Everybody stared, confused for a moment. Danny just grinned, and heaved his chair to the side. As he hit the ground, a group of very brightly colored individuals busted through the wall, right where he had been sitting.

"Nice of you to join the party," Danny said with a lopsided grin. "Now untie me so I can help kick some ass!"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #mha #bnha #myh hero #boku no academia #lov #league of villains

[vynseducationalflagpole]

Moral of the Story

"A soulmate who wasn't meant to be"

Artem x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mentions of "Attempted murd€®" portrayed as a case where you and artem participate in theres no exact details on it, it was just mentioned

Typos ahead (I honestly dunno how to use desolation and melancholy in a sentence so—)

A/N: ITS SO HARD TO MAKE ANGST FOR A MALE WIFE OMFGGG(This was inspired by that ome case in Artem's personal story i forgor which was it)

It's been quite some time since you and Artem have ever confessed to each other yet not much has changed. Though, I meant those in a bad way. Artem still looks at you with a gentle gaze, he still looks like that 'Cold looking superior' and the only thing that changed was how he treated you. There were rare occasions wherein he'd show you a plenty amount of affection and unfortunately, there are still times where he just completely 'ignores' you. You felt that he was trying his best so you've let him do his things until things get a bit too much.

Artem barely ever calls you. The last time that you had a court defense, Artem wasn't present. When you went to a party with your coworkers, he wasn't there. You do occasionally pass by him but he just keeps his eyes ahead blinding himself from his surroundings. Now coming back to the present, Artem was asked to handle this certain case involving an attempted murder. The victim was still somewhat emotionally affected by the accident but still manages to warm up to you. Captain Darius Morgan had assigned you to take care of the Victim for the mean time and you agreed. Artem had never allowed you to go inside the scene and neither did Darius. Even though you've told them that the victim had a camera present in there which could help you drastically but they deny that fact.

You took it upon yourself to go inside and attempt to take it back but for some reason, due to your bad luck, Artem was also inside. You try to hide away from him but he still finds you. An argument between you had broken out and died down when Artem heard the following words come out of your mouth. "Break up". He remains speechless and spaced out. He wasn't sure to what to do and say in the situation so he stays perfectly still the whole time. While you stare at the frozen in front of you, you take the evidence and leave the area. You gave it to Captain Morgan and told him that Artem found it. As soon as you got the permission to go back home, you drive away. Your vision blurs as you feel something stream down your face. You attempt to wipe them but they keep reappearing. The cold atmosphere outside hasn't bothered you this much. 'Maybe I've caught a cold' you thought to yourself. Even though you knew that it was unlikely, you did it to convince yourself.

On the other hand, Artem puts one hand on the steering wheel as he contemplates his actions. He thinks back as far as he can just to see your lovely smile once more. Artem felt such a melancholic feeling yet he keeps on focusing on your smile. His face then 'Attempts to do the same yet he can't overcome the desolation he feels. "Everyone makes mistakes, it's okay. Nobody's perfect, keep calm." He replays those words again and again on his mind like a broken record in an attempt to reassure himself but all it does is make him feel worse. He parks at the side of the street to calm and collect himself for a second and then continues to go on his way. He lays in bed looking at the ceiling. For some reason, he hears your voice resonating, he feels a warm breeze beside him but when he looks, there's nobody there. He closes his eyes to forget the past as he goes and drifts away as the night goes. Despite his hard work, his memories with you kept repeating in his head but instead of your warm smile and kind words, he sees you visibly upset at him. You stood there silently judging him as you spew harsh words at him. 'I never should've tried. I never should've held your hand. You were just a stranger yet I couldn't help but indulge myself.' Despite those negative thoughts, Artem tells himself again. 'But atleast I finally knew how it felt to love, right? Even though most of it didn't feel—right, Atleast you were there with me.'

———————

A/N: Now imagine that he was just stressed for some engagement preparations and he was avoiding bcs he thinks ur so smart that you'd find out abt his preparations in a single glance HAHAHAHSHHAJX

happy advance new year yall<3333

#tears of themis #artem #artem wing #artem wing x reader #artem x reader #tears of themis artem #tot artem #artem x mc #i love him #i love angst #i wanna keep him #Spotify

[willthelee]

Just a Photoshoot

this was kinda a speedrun but uh yeaaa

prompppttt (@theo006)

pleaseee tell me if theres any mistakes i made

Lee!Wilbur Ler!Lovejoy

It was a slow drive in the silent car to that one place that the entire band had agreed on, it would just set the right mood, and plus, it was a common meeting place they always met at so it was the perfect place to do a photoshoot for their new album.

The car pulled to a stop next to the curb. They decided to shoot at 7 in the morning for the perfect lighting, but it also meant that there weren't a lot of people to interrupt them, apart from a few morning joggers and dog walkers.

"Alright gang, let's shoot." Mark announced as he stepped out of the car first, followed by the cameraman who got the drone ready for the shoot.

"What's making you so excited?" Ash commented, still barely awake. Quite grumpy from how close he got to getting a small nap during the drive

"Alright alright let's just gehet this over with." Wilbur chuckled, amused at his friends' opposing moods. He personally leaned more towards Mark's mood, but he decided to stay neutral

The drone buzzed overhead as they posed in various positions, none of them quite satisfying all of them. At least one of the members would have a petty complaint about the picture, and the agreement was that all of them had to like it so they kept reshooting.

That is, until, Joe bumped into Wilbur.

"Hey-" Wil said out of reflex.

"Oh, sorry, didn't notice" Joe brushed it off, knowing that he didn't hurt Wilbur from the light bump

Ash gave the brunette a small poke "He barely even bumped you"

Wilbur emitted a light gasp and a few giggles, the poke sending a small ticklish shockwave through the upper half of this body. He decided not to say anything further to hide his reaction

All of the members turned their eyes to Wilbur, interested at the small giggles, the butterflies fluttered around his stomach as dread and realization set in

"Oh?" Mark gave Will a experimental poke, and after receiving the same reaction and a few failed attempts of protesting that just ended in stutters, the entire band joined in

"Looks like our mate Wil is ticklish~" Joe squeezed Wilbur's sides from behind, making him collapse onto the floor

"Wahait whahat?" Wilbur knew what was happening but he was still confused. His brain was still trying to deny it even though it already knows what's bound to happen

His friends sat down next to him, getting ready to attack as a few bystanders gathered, just keeping their distance and watching, which did not help Wil's anticipation but the others pretended there was no one else there.

Mark went first, lightly scribbling and squeezing near Wilbur's ribs, leading an example for the others

"Wahahahait nohoho!" The band leader laughed softly, squirming in an attempt to escape the wiggling fingers.

Joe grabbed Wilbur's arms, lifting them over his head, the new exposure increased his ticklishness noticably

Ash simply just randomly gave random pokes to his stomach and sides, getting adorable little squeaks from the man

Soon, the drone's batteries started to run out, so the cameraman said it aloud. The fingers stopped but the shock and horror on Wilbur's face made the other members and parts of the slowly disappearing crowd giggle

"WAIT- YOHOU RECORDED ALL THAHAT?!"

"That's kinda my job."

The guys all got up, Ash carefully stepping on top of the giggly remains of Wilbur for a final photo, which after a quick scroll through all the attempts, they unanimously agreed to be the album cover.

#mcyt tickle #ler!lovejoy #lee!wilbur #lee!wilbursoot