#realigning gravity

[raina-at]

Nightmare

I've set myself the unofficial goal of hitting all my AUs this month. So have some Spare Parts Boys. All you need to know, though, is that this AU is totally canon compliant until TRF save for two things: One, Sherlock and John were together before the Fall, and two, they live on Titan in the 24th century.

----

It takes a while for Sherlock to accept how much he still has to learn when it comes to anything to do with interpersonal relationships.

Case in point, just because the person you love most in the world has forgiven you for the horrible thing you did to him, doesn't mean it's not still haunting both of you.

John has nightmares. John always had nightmares, even back before Sherlock jumped. John has enough trauma Sherlock isn't responsible for to keep him in nightmares for the rest of his life. 

Like his father's death. Or the incident on Mars that is responsible for his synthetic arm.

John had PTSD and was nearly suicidal when Sherlock met him, on his way down the bottle or his sidearm. Sherlock shocked him out of that state by providing adrenaline on a daily basis. In the beginning, the adrenaline was chasing criminals through the streets of New London and the frozen plains of Titan. Later, that adrenaline included sex. But John still had nightmares, and the bed they shared before Sherlock jumped was often besieged with these night terrors. John would wake up screaming. Sometimes he’d claw at his artificial arm as if he wasn’t sure what this thing was doing on his body. Sometimes he’d whimper and beg for it to stop, whatever was torturing him.

Sherlock hated these nightmares. Still does.

But it’s a special kind of hell when you’re the thing that haunts the person you’d literally die for. When you become the nightmare. 

It’s been a rough few days. John’s clinic was busy, and they had a truly gruelling case, human trafficking, sympathetic victims, and an unsatisfying outcome. They got the local thugs and they freed the victims, but the big fish escaped their net. 

They went home and both of them fell asleep as soon as their heads hit their respective pillows.

Sherlock woke suddenly to John screaming his name, over and over, panting with fear. Sherlock did what he always does, he gathered John in his arms and whispered, “I’m here, it’s all right, it was just a dream. I’m here. I’m here,” kissing John’s brow and breathing with him as he slowly calmed down and fell asleep again, still clinging to Sherlock like he was going to vanish if he let go. 

It’s getting a bit old, to tell the truth. It doesn’t happen that often anymore, but it happens frequently enough to bother Sherlock. He’s also more than a bit disgusted at himself for having the nerve to be annoyed at John’s subconscious. It’s been two years, a small, insidious voice inside his mind whispers. When is this going to stop?

Probably never. That’s the short answer. The long answer that it’s probably going to be less and less frequent, as the scar tissue over this particular wound in John’s subconscious grows thicker.

Sherlock still feels like shit every time it happens. Because it shows him, time and again, that no matter how much they’ve grown and changed and forgiven and promised, no matter how good he’s been, there’s a part of John that still lives in that moment. There’s a corner of John’s mind that’s stuck with the worst thing Sherlock has ever done. 

When he’s sure John is fast asleep again, he gets up and sits in the window seat, watching the clouds race over the murky sky, revealing glimpses of Saturn. Occasionally, a shuttle passes through his line of sight, or a hovercab. The city is quiet at this time of night. Never asleep, but dozing. 

John’s hands are warm on his shoulders, caressing tense muscles with soothing strokes. “Come back to bed,” John whispers in his ear, soft breath tickling against his neck.

“In a minute,” Sherlock replies, making room for John to slip into the seat behind him, letting John rearrange them so he’s resting against John as John’s arms come around him.

“What is it?” John murmurs into his hair, his voice soft and quiet and gentle.

Sherlock knows he could say nothing. He could just take John to bed and distract them both from the dark of the night with the heat of their bodies. Instead, he takes John’s hand between both of his and traces idle patterns over his palm. “It’s always going to be there. Isn’t it?”

He can feel more than hear John sigh, his chest heaving with the deep breath he takes and then lets out, slowly. “Probably.” John meets his eyes in the window’s reflection. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forgive you. Doesn’t mean I want to be anywhere but here.”

“I know.” 

And the thing is, he does know. And it still hurts. Both of them. 

“You know, I have patients who ask me why their synthetic limbs feel pain.”

Sherlock sighs, because he has a feeling he knows where John is going with this. “Are you going to give me another lecture on how ignoring pain is stupid?”

Sherlock can hear the smile in John’s voice when he replies, “I’m that predictable?”

Sherlock brushes a kiss over John’s knuckles. “Never.” Another kiss. “Well. Sometimes.”

John chuckles, kissing Sherlock’s hair. “Well then, Mister I-Know-What-You’re-About-To-Say-Before-You-Do, tell me what I was about to say.”

“That pain is good, because it shows you your limits. That pain reminds you of past mistakes. That it’s a teacher, and a guide.”

“A bit more poetic than I would have phrased it, but shockingly accurate as usual,” John answers, and Sherlock can feel him smile against Sherlock’s hairline.

“I know all of this. What bothers me is that you’re in pain because of my mistakes.”

“I know. And that’s the reason why I forgive you,” John says gently, moving their joined hands over Sherlock’s heart. 

Sherlock says nothing, pressing John’s hand closer against his heart. He can’t express what John’s forgiveness means to him, what this second life they have together has given him. And he knows that the pain he feels every time he watches John live through his death is both his penance and the price he has to pay. He just wishes he was the only one who had to go through it.

“Want to go back to bed now?” John asks, pulling Sherlock even closer.

Sherlock smiles. “In a minute.”

In a minute, they will go back to bed. They will chase away melancholy thoughts and lingering aches with hands and mouths and words of adoration breathed into sweat-slick skin. They will fall asleep entangled and wake together to greet a new day together.

For now, though, Sherlock kisses John’s palm and together, they watch their city doze the night away.

-----

Periodic reminder that I'm collecting all of these ficlets here on AO3.

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #may prompts 2024 #nightmares #spare parts #realigning gravity #my most canon compliant au ironically

[gigidragonbbxxx]

musings on meditative prompts

the most profound question I have ever asked myself is what do I assume?

again. What do I assume?

I remember the first time. I simply mused, "What do I assume?" after some random tiktok video. And then it all came crashing down on me. What do I assume? About life? About reality?

So I took a deep breath, decided I was gonna do this - and began to build the world of my assumptions brick by brick.

I assume that the reality I experience is tangible

I assume that the physical vessel I occupy needs oxygen

I assume my habitat has oxygen readily available

I assume the law of gravity

etc.

I just slowly checked all the things I really assumed to be true bc they were in front of me. I affirmed these things as I observed them or became conscious of them. And then I started to focus on myself.

I assume that my name is Gigi.

I assume that I am a girl

I assume that this is my house

etc.

And then when it came to stuff I really wanted to change I began to affirm in the same way I affirmed the previous facts.

I assume that I am the prettiest wherever I go.

I assume that I am unforgettable and irresistible

I assume my SP is my soulmate

I assume I have a lot of money

I assume that I have my desired body

etc.

By the time I was done ngl I was buzzzzingggg. I felt electric. I felt focused and powerful. I think it was sort of relieving to be able to focus on reality without focusing on the parts of it that I didn't want. I felt realigned with feeling like the operant power. Sometimes when I see the advice of "ignore the 3D", I have a tendency to panic and suddenly try to ignore everything (seriously Gigi whyyy) so this helped me calm down and meditate on what I really wanted.

thanks for reading some thoughts of mine, xx, gigi

#affirm and persist #affirmations #law of assumption #loass #loassblog #loassumption #manifestation #neville goddard #self concept #affirmdaily #gigiwrites #edward art #master manifestor #living in the end #law of assumption blog #wish fulfilled #manifestingreality #manifesting #manifesation #law of manifestation #positive affirmations

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph,

I am in the mood for some really long fics. Preferably not AU as I find those hard to get into. Although, like always, I am open to your all your suggestions.

Loves Seven.

Hi Lovely!!

Ahhh, I've a TONNE of long fics, and a lot of them AREN'T AUs! I'm gonna use your ask as an excuse to post a new list, and please check out the other pages linked below! I label if a fic is an AU or not, so just skip over those if you're not up for them! Enjoy!

NOVEL LENGTH FICS: 50 to 100K Pt 4

See also:

Novella Length Fics: 20 to 25K (Oct 2020)

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K Pt 2 (July 2022)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 3 (Jul 2022)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Long Domestic Johnlock (50K+ w.) (March 2023)

Smut-Free Fics Over 50K (Aug 2019)

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017)

Long S3/Post-S3 Fics (20K+ w.) [Apr 2020]

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 4: 50K+ Words Pt. 1

Anxious / Worried Sherlock Pt 2 (Over 20K w.)

Long Pining Fics (50K+) [March 2023]

G,T, & M-Rated Johnlock for Newcomers Pt. 3 (20K+)

Genius is a Star Whose Light (is Soon to Sink in Endless Night) by LoloLolly (M, 51,812 w., 11 Ch. || Canon Compliant Through TFP/S4 Is Canon, Aftermath of Serbia, Alternating POV,  Established / New Relationship, Parentlock with Rosie, Explicit Torture, Mentions of Sherlock’s PTSD, Mentions of Human Trafficking, References to Child Abuse, Violence, Kidnapping, Captivity, Angst with Happy Ending, Fluff, Case Fic, BAMF / Soldier John, Sherlock Whump, Mycroft and John Work Together, Marriage Proposal, Autistic Sherlock, Lestrade Finds Out, Polyglot Sherlock) – Sherlock had buried the past. Shut Serbia away in the attic of his mind palace. Muddy footprints at a heinous crime scene, however, have led him right back to old enemies. And right back to captivity. For God’s sake, Mycroft. Part 2 of the Earthly Pomp (Is But a Dream) series

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Swallow the Night by ArwaMachine (E, 87,873 w., 15 Ch. || TSo3/Stag Night Fix It, TAB/S4 Divergence, Toplock, Mutual Pining, PWP, Drunk / Public Sex, Anal Fingering/Sex, Alcohol-Induced Amnesia, Everyone Knows Except Them, Emotional Love Confession, Demisexual Sherlock, Internalized Homophobia [John], Parentlock with Rosie, First Kiss, Drug Relapse, Infidelity, Texting, Masturbation, Oblivious John, Emotional Love Making, Angst with Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares) – “Do you know how long,” John panted, his cheek scraping against the wall, looking back at Sherlock through half-closed eyes, “I’ve wanted this?” Sherlock pressed himself against John’s back, biting at John’s ear. “Not nearly as long as I have,” he whispered.

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #long fics #my fic recs #50 to 100K

[quillandink333]

꓄ꀍꏂ ꈤꀤꁅꀍ꓄ ꂦꎇ ꓄ꀍꏂ ꌚꍏꏳꋪꀤꎇꀤꏳꏂ

“I WilL gRanT You OnE WiSh, cHild,” bellowed the dark entity that Emily seemed to have summoned through sheer willpower. She’d been poking around with her friend, _____, in the book on ‘demonic rituals for dummies’ she’d just gotten her hands on at their local alt shop the other day, when this thing had appeared, darkening the forest and painting the sky blood red.

“Really? So, I can just ask for anything I want? Anything I can think of?” she asked, still not quite grasping the gravity of the situation.

“JuST bE QuiCk aBouT iT,” it snapped sharply in reply, making her stagger back a step. Apparently demons weren’t known for their patience.

“Uh?! Okay…” Her heart jumped at the sudden pressure put on her. “I wish for my brother to never love anyone but me. E-Ever.” The teenager in question, her and her friend’s only chaperone on this little camping trip, was asleep in their tent, oblivious to the seance happening just outside. “Please…?”

It was the first thing that came to her innocent young mind. No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, however, did she come to regret them. She heard a thud next to her, then turned and saw her best and only friend strewn face down on the forest floor, half within the borders of the summoning circle and half without.

Word Count: 1.5k

Yoongi awoke with a start at the sound of his sweet baby sister’s terrified scream. He wasted no time tearing himself out of his sleeping bag and ripping open the flap of the tent as fast as he could physically move his body. He only caught a glimpse of the entity—not enough to know exactly what it was but enough to know it was anything but natural—before it blinked out of sight, and the cloudy night sky flickered from red back to black. Despite the brevity of the sighting, Emily’s occult phase she’d been going through with _____ lately gave him context enough. Before leaving the apartment, he’d seen her sneaking that book of rituals from the alt shop into her bag when she thought no one was looking. He could hardly believe it himself, but the pieces were just falling into place too easily to ignore.

The poor thing was frozen stiff, stood over the soulless body with a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. The first thing Yoongi did upon seeing her was take her into his arms. She didn’t resist nor did she say a word. “Shhh, shhh… You’re okay. You haven’t done anything wrong,” he soothed with gentle urgency, but all she could do was cry like a child who hadn’t yet learned to speak. This didn’t surprise him; she’d always seemed to have more trouble processing language than the other kids in her class. He suspected it was a symptom of the neurological condition she obviously had but that their parents refused to look into out of sheer ignorance. His first goal for when he turned eighteen was to get her professionally diagnosed. He’d worry about the whole financial stability thing at a later point.

Realigning his focus to the situation at hand, he guided his little girl inside the tent and told her to wait for him there. The highest priority right now was clearing her of suspicion. Immediately he got to work clearing away the makeshift runes they’d drawn into the dirt and filled in with the juices from the pack of brisket they’d brought and cooked up for dinner a few hours earlier. In a mentally intrusive way, he was somewhat impressed by their resourceful handiwork. Moreover he was relieved that neither of them had resorted to cutting themselves open.

The next step was to deal with the corpse. They couldn’t just leave it here and come back to _____’s family empty handed without an explanation. People were going to know she’d died, but both he and Emily were minors and therefore couldn’t legally be held liable for negligence or anything like that. So he decided the safest course of action was to make it look like the girl had drowned in the lake they were camping next to. Better to lie and establish a believable cause of death than to let them figure the real one out on their own. Then he’d wrap the body up in the tarp they’d packed and bring it home with them in the trunk of the car the next morning. He could only hope it wouldn’t reek too badly by then.

Yoongi got straight to work executing the next stages of his plan. Thankfully he was used to burying any negative emotions that arose deep down in the darkest crevices of his soul, so doing the dirty work was less of a bother to him than he’d expected. Once it was done, he changed into some dry clothes and went to check on Emily.

His heart sank to see her still shivering in the corner, trying so hard to stay strong despite her tears. “Hey…” He crawled inside and pulled her up into his lap from behind, pressing his nose into her tangled head of hair and hoping his breath would warm her up a bit. “It’s gonna be okay, butterfly,” he whispered, not knowing what else he could say.

“No, it won’t,” she whimpered, which sent her into another wave of uncontrollable sobs. She turned around in his lap and buried her face in his shoulder, clinging to his hoodie with only her tiny, trembling hands.

His own rubbed up and down her back at a comfortingly consistent pressure and pace. He knew how much her friendship with _____ had meant to her, and while he knew she would grow out of her grief eventually, it frightened him to see her so consumed by it here and now. “It will,” he faithfully repeated. “It might not be okay right now, but I promise it won’t hurt like this forever. For now, just let it out. Cry as much as you need to, okay? I’m here, Oppa’s right here…and he always will be.”

The two of them sat there in the tent, neither saying a word, for what felt like an hour. When her tears finally began to run out, he took the opportunity to distract her from all that had happened. “Hey, how ’bout some ‘Warriors’ before we hit the sack?” he smiled.

“Oh. You brought it?” She raised her head and looked up at him, eyes shining like dewdrops. It was her favourite series at the moment, and though he hadn’t had the chance in a week or two because of exam season, Yoongi had made a tradition of reading it to her at bedtime as her eyes grew heavy.

“I did. Here.” He picked her up and plopped her down next to him on the bed roll so he could get up and start rummaging through his backpack.

But as he turned his back toward her, she caught sight of something that definitely hadn’t been there when they’d arrived and set up camp. On the nape of his neck, there had appeared the image of an eye as if drawn in crimson ink, giving off a faint, almost invisible glow.

By the time he’d retrieved the paperback and turned to face her again, she hadn’t had the chance to consider the ominous sigil in great detail before she was hit by one of her seizures, wiping her short term memory clean—a regular occurrence for her. “Okay, let’s get tucked in and then I’ll start,” her beloved Oppa offered, unzipping their shared sleeping bag and letting her settle in first before getting himself comfy beside her.

He lay on his back while she moulded herself to his side, looking like an abandoned puppy. Holding the book open in front of him with one hand, he reached around with his other and stroked her hairline with all the tenderness he could muster. He read aloud to her in an equally tender tone, of clans and kittypets, rivalries and rebellions…until he felt her drooling on his sweatshirt.

With a soft snicker, he bookmarked the page he was on when she fell asleep. Placing it next to him with his lighter and half empty pack of cigarettes, he turned onto his side and held her unconscious form protectively in his embrace. Before switching off the lantern, though, he fell still for a moment, dwelling on their rather grim circumstances. He knew it was irrational to do so at this point, but who wouldn’t have? He worried what their parents would do when they returned home, not for his own sake but mostly his sister’s. The infuriating truth was that his parents didn’t exactly consider themselves her parents, even though they were the ones who took on responsibility for fostering her. That night, he swore a silent oath to himself that he would always protect her, no matter what paths their lives would lead them down.

#I was born with a rare type of epilepsy that impeded on my learning ability #I was lucky enough to grow up with good parents irl tho #yoonquill 🐈🪶 #my drawing #my writing #coffin au #tcoaal #selfship art #selfship fic #proship selfship #proselfship #selfproship #proship please interact #sorry to bother the tcoaal fandom cuz honestly this has nothing to do with andy and leyley #I just tagged it cuz it’s what this au is heavily inspired by / based on #tw demons #tw death #tw mutilation #tw incest

[lady-lostmind]

Eddie Month Day Twelve: Soulmates

Eddie never really believed in the whole soulmates mumbo jumbo. Knows plenty of people have claimed to have found theirs. He’s heard the stories of meeting someone and just knowing it’s your person. But he calls bullshit. It sounds ridiculous. No way in hell you just bump into someone and want to spend the rest of your life with them. That’s just insane. And kind of fucking barbaric. People just get no choice in the matter? They just go along with it, happy as can be that they’re entire life was just…mapped out for them? He thinks he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life then have to spend it with some random person fate decided he’s supposed to be with. 

That is until he quite literally bumps into someone outside a coffee shop and looks up, eyes locking on a beautiful stranger and feels his entire world shift. Every cell in his body feels drawn to him. Like his very center of gravity has realigned, tethering him to the person in front of him. It’s so jarring that he falls to his knees, right there on the sidewalk. Quite literally can’t stand to bear the rush of emotions he’s feeling for someone he’s never even met. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie stares up at the gorgeous man in front of him, the way his face flashes with concern as he bends down, putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, shit. Are you alright? Fuck. Did that actually just happen?” 

Eddie just stares at him, dumbfounded. Can’t get his brain to cooperate. Can’t believe this is actually happening to him. Eddie takes a deep breath. “You felt that too right? I haven’t lost my fucking mind?” 

A little smile spreads across the man’s face and he nods, offering his hand to help Eddie up. Eddie takes it, feeling his face flush as he realizes how fucking embarrassing this is. People are staring and whispering. Clearly piecing together what just happened and trying to watch as Eddie makes a complete fool out of himself.

Eddie clears his throat and nods toward the coffee shop. “Can we uh–” Eddie just wants a little privacy. Wants to talk to this guy about…whatever the fuck they’re going to do now.

The man glances around like he’s realizing the situation as well and nods, reaching over to open the door for Eddie. Eddie hurries in, quickly finding a seat at a little booth in the corner. His stomach is in knots as the man sits across from him.

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Has no idea what you’re supposed to say to someone who has apparently just been chained to you for life at first glance. “Uh– Hi. I’m– I’m Eddie.” 

The man gives him an awkward little wave and gestures to himself. “Steve.”

Eddie glances around, pulling at his rings. “So uh– now what?”

Steve shrugs. “Not really sure.”

Eddie shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “This is fucking nuts.” @eddiemonth

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddiemonth #day twelve

[odysseywritings]

From Here to Eternity

@flashfictionfridayofficial

It's a good thing I'm born in this era. Space travel is becoming common, medicine has progressed to fantastic levels, and vehicles have become accessible no matter your ailment. But my dream of flying high crashed after a sports game severed my spinal cord.

I remember the pain from the accident, how much I missed moving freely, hating the knot in my spine. Little by little from medical procedures, my vertebrae healed enough to stave off depression, but I hated feeling like a burden to others. A few friends and a partner drifted into their own lives wanting to be free without responsibility.

I was desperate for something new when I heard about an experimental treatment using robotics and different fluids. Thankfully, I was ensured thanks to good social programs, so I was able to get in fairly quick.

After the anesthesia, I woke up and felt heavier yet freer, and the doctor showed me the results with a mirror and x rays. My spine, while still not fully healed, could bend in every direction thanks to the thick gluey liquid and the cybernetics realigning the damage areas. I looked like a cyborg from the rear with a column of blue-gray hexagons down my back, but despite the initial apprehension from looking different, I learned to appreciate this new take on my identity. I'm no different than someone with glasses or a wheelchair and yet I'm my own person.

My wounds healed fully after a few weeks and I could do physical activities like lifting and stretching or getting out of bed with more ease. I felt like dancing and running and climbing and all sorts of activities I took for granted! My thoughts sobered when I remembered how others in my situation, even as recent as the 20th and early 21st centuries, had to readjust their entire life from one event.

I knew I couldn't waste time following my dreams in case something worse happened. I enlisted for an astronomy flight while my movement stabilized. As I left Earth's gravity and orbit, I felt weightless, just like after the surgery. What if this could be the future for everyone, where no one would be limited to their own grounds, able to live without pain? Some day, maybe in my lifetime, everyone could gain the gifts of supportive technology.

#writeblr #writing community #sci fi #disability #transhumanism #mywriting #njm

[starfox313]

Letters

Some nights I regret 

All those letters I didn't send

You never knew why I left. 

How I never had a choice 

How they muffled my voice 

Our heartbreak drowned in the noise.

Then at nearly sixteen I tried

To take my own life

Not even a proper goodbye. 

I almost wrote a letter

How you deserved better

But I just left you tethered.

All the trauma I gave you

Please know I didn't mean to

You weren't a love I intended to lose. 

And it's hard to forgive me

For ignoring the gravity 

And drowning you in tragedy. 

I left you stranded in a landmine

Altered our lifelines

As we begged our own stars to realign. 

Now so many saltwater tears later

I can't help but hate her 

For becoming your godforsaken traitor.

But we aren't the kids we were then

A year turns into ten

I still have the same paper and pen. 

And I write this apology letter

Of a girl who swears she'll do better

If only you'll let her.

#poetry #poem #original poetry #original writing #writing #mental health #apology letter #letters #letters i never sent #writers of tumblr #poets of tumblr #poets #trauma #quotes #literature #creative writing #shadow work #healing #story telling #love #childhood #childhood trauma #metaphor #all rights reserved #tragedy #sad #friends to lovers #pining #wattpad #poeticstories

[essektheylyss]

I got to thinking about the saddest possible implication of the phrase "Eventually there's only one left," which is the fact that of all of the wizards in campaign 2, Essek will very likely be the last one left alive, so I wrote a gen-fic lifespan angst thing. Very short, a little bittersweet. Maybe just sad? I dunno. Enjoy, but with the understanding that it's exactly what it says on the tin.

(read on ao3)

—

It is, well, strange to be sorting through a mage's things. He has only done this once before, and then it had been much of his own items, research—then he had known the nooks and crannies of the house, had poured over many of the books and papers that were not his own when he read aloud in substitute for failing eyes.

Now, this is a hollow cavity of a space, so unknown to him it might as well be empty, and he doesn't know quite where to start.

The apprentice had approached him, at the tail end of the wake, a rather strange mix of celebratory and solemn for the mage of the Open Quay as they had given him a sea burial. The apprentice had approached Essek as he watched the boat set alight against the dark winter sky, the clouds such a deep blue at the tail end of the afternoon's monsoon that it seemed they reflected the sea, not the other way around.

He had wondered for a split second how the apprentice had recognized him, but then he'd caught the slight glint of a spell on the glasses she wore. In this tower now, he wonders whether they had been left with the will purely for the purpose of recognizing the primary beneficiary.

"From the master," the young half-orc had murmured, and passed him a piece of paper written in elegant writing that he recognized.

He reads it again now, standing in the entryway. Instructions for entering, when not given access, and passing safely through the wards that sprung into being upon the death of the master of the house. Details of what has been left to the apprentice, and what has been left to Essek.

Yes, it is strange to receive such an inheritance, especially when he does not feel particularly as though the name on the paper is correct.

Surely, the man had others to bequeath such things to.

And yet a name that should be lost to time is written in Yussa Errenis's hand, clear as a Rosohna night.

He sighs, and reads the paper again, though he has read it enough times that he's committed it to memory. He does not have the power of recall that others long passed have been blessed with, but this sticks in his mind thanks to pure rote.

He tucks the paper away.

—

When the Lavorre woman passes, he has to count back through the gravestones to remember how many generations it has been. Seven, by this point, and all of them beginning to blur together.

He is not so old as he sometimes feels, and not so young as he expected to seem, had his life stayed upon the track it had been set upon in his youth.

He hasn't considered calling upon his mother in centuries, and yet he stands in a cemetery in the Menagerie Coast and wonders if that wouldn't be preferable to this, if a place in such a family wouldn't remind him how young he might be made to feel.

Caduceus has always lumbered, rarely hurried, but now his movements have been made particularly languid with age. As he offers an arm and the old firbolg takes it, he feels lighter again, and the sudden shift in gravity in his mind is a form of vertigo.

It is strange, to think of how time realigns depending on who he is standing next to, sending the fabric of the world rippling.

"I thought the speech was a bit long," Caduceus remarks wryly, and Essek laughs in spite of himself at the dark game the two of them have taken to playing, when they meet again under circumstances like this. It is often the only circumstance they meet under anymore.

"Yes, rather overwrought, but Leysa has always taken after the dramatic side of her family."

Caduceus snorts. Weighing Essek's arm down, they pick slowly around the headstones. "There's a side of her family that's not dramatic?"

All of the generations blur, perhaps, but this is a point that Essek has to concede as he tries to conjure up anyone he has known in their family tree without a penchant for drama.

"You should come by the Grove sometime," Caduceus continues kindly, once the silence has lingered. "Clarabelle would love to see you."

He has not been to the Grove in quite some time. He wonders how the Clay family make do, outliving so many they have known and living in the eternal reminder of it.

He wonders how he would've liked to stay in the Dynasty, knowing that all of those around him had already lived centuries longer than he will ever see, that they would still think him young when he finally dies of old age.

He wonders what kind of tragedy his mother speaks of if she ever invokes his name.

"I will see if I can make the time," he answers finally, and he thinks by this point that he may be a liar seasoned enough that Caduceus does not catch it.

—

There is a mage being buried in Blumenthal the day the port of Port Damali takes to the sky.

He does not attend the departure of the first floating city Exandria has seen in over a millennium and a half, though he had been invited by virtue of his work on the gravitational mechanisms and the earnest insistence of a halfling with an echo of Veth Brenatto's grin. Instead he goes to see the dirt fill the freshly-dug grave in the town's small cemetery, a humble resting place for a renowned mage, but she is not the first renowned mage to will their body to this earth.

Most of the bushes that dot the green are flowering by now, and he leaves the mound of dirt to meander along the rows as the crowd disperses. The sun is unforgiving, but he bears it beneath a guise and dark glasses.

The glasses are as much for sight as they are to stave off the light, now.

The Dynasty does not have any concept of an afterlife, so he has attempted to synthesize one from the customs of the cultures of his friends, too many of them born and passed now. Perhaps he has already passed the point at which he has lost more people than he still has left to meet.

The woman buried beneath the fresh earth behind him remains still in his mind as a rash youth with a competitive streak and a penchant for ignoring her teacher's wisdom in favor of her own experimentation, like a double exposure over the old woman at whose deathbed he had sat a week before.

He stands over a well-worn stone, dotted with poppies, and says, "Take care of her for me, will you? I think the two of you will get along well."

He doesn't need to ask, nor does he anticipate an answer, but he stands there for a long time before vanishing from the spot as though he was never there, feeling more of a ghost than those buried beneath the soil.

#critical role #cr fic #essek thelyss #editing these tags to say that literally right after I posted this I got an email blast from the library about it being make-a-will month #which was very unsettling timing but it did make me feel supported in my writing interests so it's fine it's cool #hope everyone's enjoying thinking about mortality during this fine make-a-will month

[raina-at]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Additional Tags: anniversary fic, Established Relationship, Post Reichenbach, Canon compliant until the end of S2 but they live on Titan, 24th Century, Toot-Rotting Fluff, Various sex acts between enthusiastically consenting adults, January 29th, Sci Fi AU, Sherlock is still a detective, John is still a doctor Series: Part 2 of Realigning Gravity Summary:

Sherlock wants to do something special for John on their first January 29th back together.

Two weeks late for January 29th and a day late for Valentine’s Day, have some tooth-rooting anniversary fic set on Titan in my Sci Fi verse. But you can read this as a stand-alone, it’s just a bit of fluffy, happy, feel-good Johnlock.

Thank you so much, @jrow, for the beta, and for helping me find a title.

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@iamjustreading @thetimemoves @discordantwords @calaisreno @inevitably-johnlocked @cupidford @the-reading-lemon @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @7-percent @whatnext2020 @jrow @jazzthecat00 @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra

#sherlock fic #my fic #johnlock fic #tooth-rotting fluff #spare parts verse #realigning gravity #the stars walk backward #january 29th is sherlock day

[lennjamin-o7]

To Be Truly Free

Chapter 18

Previous | Next

Technoblade didn’t have a response for Tommy. It’s not like he’d had any idea what was happening for a while now, let alone when something as impossible as people defying the laws of life and death. That was certainly not something he had read in a library book. A little bit out of his well of knowledge. But who knows? It might have been in a volume that the Church didn’t have. Or maybe it was shelved on the wrong shelf in the library, they really did need to update their sorting system. So, hopefully Tommy- Prince Theseus didn’t expect a real answer.

Still, he would also very much like to know what the heck was happening. 

And Chat wasn’t being very helpful with providing information.

He saved the Tommy!

Bedrock Bros awww

Yes Yes

Zombies?

E

Saved the Tommy!

Sunshine boy!

No decapitation today!

Yes!

Technoblade grimaced, glancing down at the vampire that was still pinned under him. He had acted on impulse, pulling Prince Theseus to the ground. He really shouldn’t have done that. He should have let the disk fly straight and true and…One less vampire would have made it so much easier to escape. He knew that. He could rationalize that.

And yet.

He lifted his arm, spots of blood sticking to his sleeve as he pulled away and leaving a tacky feeling on his wrist. Cautiously, Technoblade pushed himself into sitting up, inching away from the stunned Prince Theseus.

At his movement, Prince Theseus blinked, shook his head, and quickly shot to his feet. In a blink he stood over the disk embedded in the blankets. The glow had completely disappeared, removing the otherworldly quality from it. Yet, there was still something about it. An oddity. A mystery. A curiosity with no explanation, as far as he could tell. But Technoblade only gave the curious object a glance before turning to something far more pressing.

At least, more pressing in his mind.

Technoblade stiffly got to his feet, feeling slightly numb from the sudden and emotionally charged change in events. Years of his life had passed in painful monotony, where the only variation laid in what creative punishment he would earn. Yet lately everything seemed to be constantly changing and he had no control over it, nor could he predict what would happen next. Truths that he had assumed would be universal and eternal were erased like the very laws of gravity had been revoked. He felt wrong-footed, like the ground was disintegrating under him, spilling like sand through an hourglass and into the void of the unknown. And Technoblade was futilely trying not to fall as well. Desperate to find a firm foundation to stand on and realign his perspective of reality. So he did the only thing he could do. He took a step forward. And then another. And one more. Until he was staring down at a sight he had desired for years, but never quite hoped for. Something that seemed impossible and only achievable vicariously through beating up Hallowlance.  

Jerry was a wreck.

When a priest died, they were usually surrounded by their loved ones and those that admired them, comforting the dying elder with words of admiration and remembrance and reverence. And then, the priest's body would be treated with the highest respect and care before being set alight on a pyre in pompous ceremony. The other priests would sing blessings for their memory, praise their accomplishments, while the Blessed would be forced to stand in silent vigil and pretend to be upset that one so holy had passed.

There was nothing regal about Jerry, face twisted in agony with blood oozing from his nose and lips. Face burnt and bruised. Limbs splayed in an undignified heap across sodden blankets. Both arms gone and the legs completely missing, fat and sinew and tissue on full display from where Prince Theseus’s blade slashed through the priest’s abdomen. The stink of mutilated bowels mixed with the unpleasant stench of blood. By all the canons of the Church, it was an unfitting end for such a high ranking priest, who should have lived a blessed life, a prestigious life. This was a blasphemy, a tragedy by all of their laws.

Technoblade raised one foot and stomped hard on Jerry’s dead face.

Technoblade didn’t really mind the disgusting gush of blood on the sole of his bare foot as he crushed Jerry’s nose, a satisfying crack as the nose crunched to the side. He had grown far too used to the sensation of blood for it to bother him now.

Instead, a rippling tide of satisfaction filled his heart, only partially his own.

He’s dead!

Dead!

Finally

Retire the knives, Chat, he’s dead!

Blood for the Blood God

Eat shit, Jereth

I hope Kristin makes you suffer,

Couldn’t happen to a better man

Technoblade smiled, a weight melting from his heart-

-before nearly jumping out of his skin when the flap of the tent was violently rent apart, the canvas tearing in a loud rip. Technoblade spun at the noise, tensed and ready for the next attack. 

Which didn’t come.

“Techno! Tommy!” Philza shouted, rushing into the tent. He was completely unharmed, not even a speck of dirt on his clothes as he stalked into the tent. Yet, even though Phil was clearly unruffled by the sudden attack, he wasn’t composed. The Emperor’s expression was like a thundercloud as his eyes swept across the tent and scanned over the pieces of viscera scattered around before his eyes locked on Technoblade. Technoblade stiffened at the fiery expression, but within a blink Phil was standing right in front of him. Unsheathed sword in one hand, Phil reached out and grabbed Technoblade’s wrist, eyes widening at the sight of blood. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not. It’s not mine,” Technoblade shook his head. Phil relaxed slightly, though the anger remained constant. Phil let go of Technoblade’s wrist but his hand trailed up Technoblade’s arm as if testing the veracity of his statement. Technoblade tugged his arm away. “If you want to check on anyone, you should check on Prince Theseus. He’s the one that nearly got decapitated.”

“He what?” Phil nearly shouted, head whipping to where Prince Theseus was standing and-oh. Prince Theseus was no longer alone. Wilbur stood right beside him, also staring at the strange disk. At Phil’s outburst, Prince Theseus flinched and raised his hand in a placating manner.

“Hey, wait, no! I wasn’t-there’s no way that a big man like me would get decapitated. I am simply too great for that. I-” Prince Theseus was cut off by suddenly being poked and prodded by Phil. Technoblade hadn’t even noticed him move. “I’m fine! I’m fine, Dadza, lay off!”

“How the fuck did someone get close enough to-which bastard was it? I’ll make sure their souls suffer for all eternity, just give me a-”

“It wasn’t any of these fuckers! It was this weird disk…thing,” Prince Theseus pointed downward, drawing Phil’s attention to it. “It came flying through the air and fucking ripped through the tent and shit. Broke right through one of the tent stick things. But it didn’t touch me. Techno knocked me down and-hang on.”

Technoblade grimaced as Prince Theseus looked over at him, a sly calculating expression on his face.

“How the fuck did you know to duck, Blade?” Prince Theseus asked, eyes narrowed.

“Uh-”

Uh-oh

He is having a thought

No way

E

We are getting sussed out

Theseus is rubbing those two brain cells together.

“I…heard it?” Technoblade said hesitantly. But Prince Theseus glared harder. 

“Bullshit. If you could hear it with your shitty human ears, then I should have been able to-”

“Later, Tommy. We can address that later. Right now, we need to get to a safer place before-”

“Uh, Dad, you should really look at this,” Wilbur said. He was bent down, looking closely at the disk and reaching out with one hand. With his other hand, he adjusted his glasses on his face. “I’m not sure, but I think this might be-”

Wilbur yelped, immediately pulling back his hand and cradling it against his chest with a hiss. Phil was already at his side, tugging on Wilbur’s wrist to get a better look.

“Let me see! Let me see! Why the fuck did you touch it?” Phil hissed. Wilbur finally let Phil have control of the hand, face scrunched in discomfort. Phil looked at it a moment before cursing. 

“What? What is it?” Wilbur’s voice trembled.

“Wild Rose Ash,” Phil spat, looking at the disk with distaste and suspicion. “It’s coated in the shit. Someone knows what they’re doing.”

Phil reached down and grabbed the least bloody blanket within reach and immediately started wiping off the ash from Wilbur’s fingertips.

“Um, Dad. That’s interesting and all, but that’s not what I was pointing out,” Wilbur said, nodding toward the disk. “I think the disk hit deep enough to…break into the foundation, if you know what I mean.”

Phil paused his ministrations, a dark expression on his face as he bared his teeth and hissed.  

Technoblade took a step back. He had not really heard the royals make a sound so…inhuman. The sound lit some instinctual part of his brain to get away, run, danger . 

The movement drew three sets of eyes to him, causing Technoblade’s stomach to flip at the sudden attention. 

Dadza Madza

Very Mad

Redza?

Just very madza

People are gonna die

Neat

“Alright,” Phil took a deep breath, before he let go of Wilbur’s hand. Wilbur sniffed his fingers, licking one before nodding in satisfaction. “We need to move to somewhere safer. I can’t handle another one of you getting so much as a paper cut tonight. My nerves have had about all they can take, at this point.”

Phil quickly stepped over the bodies until he was back at Technoblade’s side. Though maybe quickly wasn’t the right word. Phil moved at a very human pace, not the unnatural speed from before. Still, Technoblade flinched when Phil gently laid one hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, mate,” Phil said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Technoblade didn’t resist being pulled along by Phil, but he did spare a moment to look once more at the body of Priest Jereth.

And quietly reveled in the realization that he was alive, and Jerry was not.

If inside the tent was a gorey mess, outside was…something else entirely. A battlefield-no, a slaughter- strewn with the bodies of armored Empire soldiers and a smattering of dismembered corpses. On closer inspection, Technoblade could see the gold embroidered crimson cloth or once fine silk robes on many of the dismembered. 

But even though there were two types of people laying dead upon the ground, only Empire soldiers dragged corpses away. Only the colors of the Empire drew breath. A heavy reminder of who, exactly, won.

Even if it didn’t explain how such a thing could happen in the first place.

Technoblade was very careful where he placed his feet, dirt sticking to his bloody bare sole, but Phil seemed frustrated by their pace. Phil’s arm pressed against Technoblade’s back ushered him faster through the crowd as soldiers immediately closed in to create a protective wall around all of the royals. Well, the royals and Technoblade. 

Each soldier seemed determined, eyes focused on their surroundings with resolution, searching for any threat. On high alert. Technoblade only had a moment to contemplate that before he was back to focusing on not stepping on a sharp piece of metal as Phil pushed them to go faster through the camp.

“Dad.” Wilbur asked, slightly hesitantly. Technoblade nearly tripped as he turned his head to see Wilbur walking just behind him. “What do we do it the Wild Rose Ash mixed in with the-”

“It will be fine,” Phil said quickly, increasing their pace. “There is a reason we split it up into multiple boxes. If one gets contaminated, it won’t be a problem.”

“Still, it just feels a little-” Wilbur paused, silence accompanying whatever the wordsmith was trying to say.

“I understand how you feel, Wil. But right now,” Technoblade stumbled again as Phil pushed him to walk faster. “We need to get to safety. And then I need to find what bastard thought it was smart to attack my sons.”

“Fuck yeah! Find the asshole who thought it was a good idea to throw weird fucking circles at me,” Prince Theseus said, a vindictive glee in his voice. “You're not supposed to use disks to kill people, you use them for music. Stupid fucker deserves to get his skull caved in.”

Wilbur snorted, but Technoblade couldn’t turn around to get a better view of his expression. He was too focused on keeping his footing to notice where they were going until they were there. Technoblade blinked in confusion.

“Bruh, I don’t think a carriage is going to be all that safe,” Technoblade drawled as Phil pushed him forward. The impressive black carriage loomed before him. A soldier reached forward to grab the door, the entrance like the maw of a beast he kept unwillingly walking into.

“Not a normal carriage, mate,” Phil said, pushing Technoblade even faster so he was nearly jogging. “It’s covered in enchantments of protection. Honestly, it’s more protected than most fortresses.”

“That seems,” Technoblade was nearly lifted onto the carriage step by Phil. “Excessive-?”

Technoblade tripped as Phil pushed him inside, catching himself on the seat instead of falling onto the floor.

“Seriously?” Technoblade turned, raising an eyebrow at Phil. But Phil wasn’t looking at him.

“Tommy, you next,” Phil said as he grabbed Prince Theseus’s shoulder, not seeming to care about the blood still dripping from the Prince’s shirt.

“What? The fuck? No, I’m going with you to hunt this bastard down-”

“No you are not. In,” Phil said, pushing on Prince Theseus’s shoulder. But Prince Theseus dug his heels in.

“Fuck that! Make Wilbur stay with Techno. I’m going-”

“Neither of you are going with me. Both of you are going to stay here where it’s safe.”

“What?!” Prince Theseus shouted. “The hell we are!”

“Tommy, this is not the time for-”

“No! I’m not just going to sit around and let the guy get away!”

“Yeah, Dad, you can’t just do this by yourself,” Wilbur interrupted, hands on his hips. “Tommy can stay with Techno and then I can-”

“No! I’m going, bitch! You’re staying here!”

“Neither of you are going,” Phil growled, as both Wilbur and Prince Theseus shouted over each other to make their words known. But Technoblade’s attention had drifted away from the royals' words.

The night breeze was blowing against the carriage window’s curtain. 

Technoblade kept an eye on the arguing royals as he slowly walked backwards toward the wall. He paused when he felt the carriage wall brush against his heel, glancing to the side and seeing the curtain billow against his wrist. He stared back at the royals as he gathered the fabric in his hand.

Oh?

OH!

Window escape!

Yes! Window!

Window Escape Two: Electric Boogaloo

Escape attempt again let's go!!

Guys, it's not going to work. We don’t even really want it to work

Hush, you.

E

Oh, he’s going to run!

Technoblade carefully, pulled the fabric aside, looking out the window from the corner of his eye. There were guards patrolling, each looking harried as they searched for any more assailants, or a few stationary ones stood with their backs to the carriage. But none were turned toward the carriage itself. Technoblade searched the darkness, focusing for a moment on the distant trees, probably only one hundred yards away. A flicker of light inside the foliage, before it disappeared.

Technoblade glanced back at the bickering royals, Prince Theseus now trying to wrestle out of Phil’s grasp. He seemed to be doing a much better job than Technoblade had done. Wilbur watched with his arms crossed, still trying to argue with Phil over going with him.

Technoblade turned back to the window, pushing the curtain completely out of the way. He put one leg through and ducked down so he wouldn’t whack his head against the window sill. He straddled the window and lifted his other leg to push it through the window before jumping-

Arms wrapped around his middle and Technoblade yelped in surprise as he was yanked backwards, his head making contact with the window frame with a dull thunk. Technoblade didn’t have a moment to struggle as he was thrown onto a carriage seat. The thick cushions absorbed the momentum, not even causing his shoulder to twinge as he sprawled on the seat. Before he could try and sit up, a hand pressed into the center of his chest.

“What-” Phil stared down blankly at Technoblade, his words clipped. Technoblade stared up at him with apprehension, blue eyes boring into him. “-do you think you are doing?” 

Technoblade laid quietly for a moment, not looking away from Phil as something dark floated behind the vampire’s eyes. Technoblade licked his lip, thinking quickly for a believable excuse.

“I was going to the bathroom,” Technoblade deadpanned before raising an eyebrow. “Duh.”

Phil looked down at Technoblade, unamused. Technoblade started to inwardly panic, his heart rate rising as the Emperor remained silent. He had crossed some kind of line and he was about to pay for it.

Phil’s lip twitched, and Technoblade relaxed minutely. He immediately tensed up again as  Phil leaned in closer, his face inches away from Technoblade’s nose.

“There is a dangerous person prowling around,” Phil’s voice was barely a whisper. He pressed harder against Technoblade’s chest, the pressure just shy of hurting. “Going out that window will do nothing but endanger you, and I will not allow that. Am I clear?”

Technoblade glared, irritation and fear mixing together to make him bold.

“I’ve been trapped by three very dangerous people,” Technoblade glared. “One dangerous person versus three dangerous people. Seems like I’m safer if I leave.”

Phil snorted, amused despite himself.

“The difference is that the three dangerous people in here will never hurt you,” Phil said.

Technoblade scoffed and rolled his eyes, shifting under the hand that still pinned him. Phil frowned, a calculating expression crossing his face.

“You still think we would hurt you,” It wasn’t a question. Phil leaned away, no longer so close to Technoblade’s face. Technoblade continued to glare when Phil still pinned him in place. 

The royals had been nice to him. Nicer than most. They had given him food, comfort,  and kind words. They had healed his wounds and given him gifts. Not once had they made a move to intentionally harm him. He could recognize these facts… But they had given nice things to other people, only to destroy them when their purpose was done. They had given Hallowlance status, only to completely destroy the man as soon as he had outlived his usefulness. They had flattered and complimented Dante, only to rip his kingdom from his hands. They had given hope to a country that they had doomed for their own gain.

“When you get bored of me, you will,” Technoblade’s voice was far more steady than he felt himself. The words, though true, were painful, a desperate ache in his chest. It was an uncomfortable truth. Part of him wished-

Well, wishes were useless anyway.

“Techno-” Technoblade glanced over at the sound of Wilbur’s voice. Both he and Prince Theseus were now standing in the carriage, both wearing matching expressions of disbelief. “We would never- we wouldn’t-”

“Sure,” Technoblade drawled. “Whatever you say.”

Wilbur grimaced, running a hand through his hair as Prince Theseus scowled. At least, Technoblade assumed it was a scowl. The blood that covered Prince Theseus head to toe made reading his expression difficult. He couldn’t study it for long as he was suddenly distracted by Phil.

Phil’s hand shifted, sliding up from Technoblade’s chest before stopping on his collarbone. Phil’s thumb rested against his throat and Technoblade’s heart sped up. Technoblade was sure that Phil noticed, too, the man’s finger just over where his jugular vein rested. Technoblade stared up at Phil with a forced blank expression, but Phil didn’t acknowledge it. Phil was too focused on staring at Technoblade’s throat. Something dark. Something vicious. Something avaricious in his eyes. 

“Dad,” Prince Theseus said. Technoblade didn’t look to see what kind of expression Prince Theseus made, but Phil did. He glanced at Prince Theseus before staring back down at Technoblade with pursed lips. Finally, Phil removed his hand and backed away.

“I don’t have enough time to explain to you why you are wrong-” Phil started.

“Of course not, there aren’t enough hours in a day,” Technoblade snarked, even though he felt shaken to his bones. Technoblade carefully sat up, not looking away from Phil. “You’d have to talk longer than my lifespan to even have a chance.”

Phil paused tilted his head at the words, before smirking. His smile was sharp and Technoblade felt a very heavy sense of foreboding.

“Even so,” Phil said, straightening completely and turning to Prince Theseus and Wilbur. “You two. Stay here.”

“But-”

“No,” Phil said firmly. Both Tommy and Wilbur opened their mouths to argue and Phil stepped in closer. Both Prince Theseus and Wilbur leaned in as Phil whispered something to them. Technoblade listened carefully, but couldn’t make out a word. Whatever was said made both Wilbur and Prince Theseus look unhappy. But soon enough, Phil took a step toward the door and Wilbur and Prince Theseus didn’t argue. “Now, I’ve wasted enough time. Stay here.”

Phil looked over at Technoblade.

“And behave,” Phil said with a wry smile. Technoblade looked away. “Rest, if you can. You’re still healing.”

Technoblade didn’t respond, but Phil didn’t seem bothered, merely stepping out of the carriage, the door closing with a loud click.

Prince Theseus and Wilbur stood, not moving to sit. Technoblade turned away from them, sprawling on the carriage seat and leaving no room for one of them to sit next to him. He turned on his side, facing the wall so he didn’t have to look at the two princes.

“Techno-” Prince Theseus sounded so very sad. Technoblade closed his eyes against it. “You can’t-you don’t think we would actually hurt you, do you?”

Technoblade didn’t bother to respond to such a ridiculous question. He shifted to settle more comfortably and ignored the pulling at his heart.

“How could you ever think that we’d-?” Technoblade flinched at the brief touch on his shoulder. The hand immediately pulled away at his reaction. “We wouldn’t-”

“Don’t touch him, Toms,” Wilbur said.

“Ay? Why the fuck not-”

“You’re covered in blood,” Wilbur interrupted. Prince Theseus stopped speaking. “You’re just going to get it on him.”

The carriage was silent for a long minute. Technoblade closed his eyes as he listened in anticipation of…something.

“...there are some extra blankets in here,” Wilbur said, and Technoblade heard the sliding of a drawer. “You can use them to wipe off the worst of it. And we can set it down so you don’t stain the-”

“Dad was right, wasn’t he?” Prince Theseus’s voice was soft. Technoblade frowned at the statement.

“...yeah, I think he was,” Wilbur responded. “C’mon. Let's get some of the blood off. Unless you’ve decided to become your true feral self and lick yourself clean.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Prince Theseus responded, but it sounded weak. A desperate attempt to maneuver back to familiar ground.

Technoblade listened to the brothers bicker weakly, each half-heartedly arguing over where they would sit. Who would be near the window? Who would be near the door? But even as Technoblade felt sleep tugging at him, he could recognize the stilted attempts as false. They weren’t exactly hiding it.

Technoblade’s breathing evened out and he was just on the cusp of complete sleep when the conversation changed.

“...he really thinks we would hurt him,” Prince Theseus whispered.

“...Yeah. He does,” Wilbur sighed.

Technoblade fell asleep.

—

He was beyond the pain, at this point.

Technoblade stared up at the clear blue sky and listened to the swaying not-poppies brush against each other. He could just make out whispered words in the rustling, but he was too exhausted to listen. Every shallow breath had thorns digging deeper into his flesh, creating a new spurt of blood to drip onto the ground. His blood watered the grasping roots around him, his tears having run dry and leaving itchy stains on his cheeks. 

Technoblade was beyond thought, merely focusing on the expanse of blue above him. He couldn’t move, but if he tried he would just be digging more pain into his flesh. He couldn’t speak, because the roots around his throat would squeeze until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t hope, because there was no way out of this.

None.

He had tried.

He had tried so hard.

But no matter how much he struggled, no matter all his effort, he was still trapped.

And that knowledge was more agony than the thorns embedded in his skin.

Don’t you think you might be holding too tightly? Technoblade heard a feminine voice ask. He didn’t react, not a twitch. Not even when a flash of black briefly obscured the sky. Not even when a light thud landed right beside his ear. You know what they say. The tighter you squeeze, the more sand escapes between your fingers.

Technoblade choked as the not-poppies squeezed tighter, not fighting as their grip dug deeper and deeper. He could hear the steady drip of his blood onto the ground and he gasped for breath.

Unless you don’t intend to hold to your side of the bargain. The feminine voice sounded amused. Technoblade blinked to see a large crow looking down at him, sharp beak mere centimeters from his eye. He couldn’t summon the energy to try and struggle away. Imagine. A god of Justice breaking their word. You haven’t even received your end of the deal yet.

The poppies constricted with such force that all of Technoblade's air was forced out with a wheeze. The steady drip of blood changed to a trickle. Technoblade’s muscles convulsed involuntarily, causing the thorns to tear raggedly.

Someone’s insecure. You’re going to break him, if you keep this up, The feminine voice cautioned. The crow tilted its head curiously, still looking down at Technoblade as his face twisted in agony.

He is not so fragile to break under pressure , A different voice responded, reverberating inside Technoblade’s head. He’s made of stronger stuff than that.

He’s well made, true. But even the finest iron is only so durable , The crow fluttered its wings. Are you really willing to risk it with this one?

Slowly, the thorns’ grip loosened and Technoblade desperately sucked in air, his whole body trembling. The crow clacked its beak a few times, whistling approval.

There, now. Was that so hard? The crow cackled loudly as the voice spoke. You know that if our deal is to play out, you are going to have to let me in? It is the only way this will work. If you keep clinging to him like a child refusing to share its favorite toy, then the plan is doomed from the start.

The ground shook below Technoblade and the crow flapped its wings to stay steady, but it cackled loudly even so.

You seem quite insecure for a being that is so certain that it will win our bet, The feminine voice said, causing the ground to shake even more. 

I know what he will choose. He is mine. I made him with my own hands , The voice in Technoblade’s head boomed. 

Then there should be no problem letting me in , The feminine voice crowed. The ground shook for a moment more, before the earthquake calmed. The bird cackled as it hopped even closer to Technoblade, looking down at him. It’s the only way for this to play out, unless you want to go back on your word.

No voice replied, but Technoblade felt the roots around his throat slowly slither away, dragging their thorns with them. Technoblade swallowed reflexively as his wounds were exposed to the open air. The crow tilted its head, before hopping slightly to the side and looking at Technoblade’s throat.

See? Was that so hard? The crow lowered its head, Technoblade mentally braced for it to dig its beak and talons into his neck. Instead, it gently laid its beak against the side of his neck.

As soft as the touch was, there was nothing enjoyable about the contact.

Nothingness. Pure nothing radiated from where the crow rested its beak. Slowly, so slowly engulfing Technoblade in the unnatural void.

Technoblade didn’t know what was worse, the pain or the emptiness.

If he had a choice, he would wish for neither.

—

“...where the guy could even be hiding?” A whispered conversation woke Technoblade. “We have thousands of soldiers and not one saw anything strange?”

“Not that any are admitting to,” Technoblade recognized the voice as Phil’s. 

“...you think some of our soldiers would be working with him?” Wilbur asked quietly.

“I do,” Phil responded. “I already dealt with the morons that let themselves be bribed to leave their stations at the palace the night that Techno snuck out. I have my suspicions that Technoblade wasn’t the only one who took advantage of their absence.”

“...that would explain how so many escaped the cages and manacles. There’s no way so many could get out without being seen, even if they somehow couldn't die.”

“How dare they betray us,” Prince Theseus hissed, the sound distinctly inhuman. His voice rose louder. “If we find anyone else helping that bastard then I’ll-”

“Shhhhh, Tommy. You’ll wake-”

“Too late on that,” Phil said and Technoblade felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. “You’re already awake, aren’t you, Techno?”

Technoblade sighed, blinking his eyes open to stare at the back of the seat.

“I am now,” Technoblade’s voice cracked, with exhaustion. He shifted to lever himself up, before hissing at the sudden pain in his shoulder.

“Techno! Are you-” Prince Theseus started.

“He missed his last dose of medication,” Phil interrupted. Technoblade glanced upward to see Phil standing over him. “In all the excitement, it wasn’t the top priority.”

“It should have been top priority,” Prince Theseus said heatedly. Phil leaned forward and carefully helped Technoblade sit up. Technoblade grumbled under his breath about it, but didn’t fight it. He didn’t want to be stuck laying down, even if every little movement caused him pain. “Technoblade is our top priority! He’s our-”

“Tommy,” Phil interrupted, looking over at Prince Theseus. 

Prince Theseus frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into the seat. Technoblade studied him and was surprised to see that he was no longer covered in blood. Instead, water dripped from the Prince’s hair, and the Prince was wearing different clothes. 

“How long was I asleep?” Technoblade asked with a wince, leaning his good shoulder against the wall.

“Not too long. You slept through the night, but that’s all,” Wilbur explained from where he sat beside Prince Theseus. Wilbur frowned. “Dad was off trying to hunt down whoever threw that disk and Tommy and I were stuck here, so none of us were available to grab your medication.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyway,” Technoblade said dismissively. Wilbur’s frown grew.

“Yes. You do. Dad-”

“I already sent someone to grab it, Wilbur, don’t worry. As well as something for Techno to eat,” Phil waved off. Technoblade huffed as Phil sat beside him, a mere inch away from Technoblade. 

“It should have already been here,” Prince Theseus grumbled, slumping further into his seat. Wilbur wrapped one arm over his shoulder. “Technoblade deserves to have food whenever he wants-”

“Okay, can we not talk about food right now?” Technoblade interrupted. He glanced over at Phil, careful not to jostle his shoulder. “What the heck happened last night? What was-why didn’t those priests die? ”

Phil pursed his lips.

“We had a bit of a prison break situation-” Phil started, but Technoblade cut him off.

“Prison breaks don’t usually have people defying the laws of life and death, do they?” Technoblade said, raising an eyebrow. “I think I would have heard about that before now, if it were.”

“We…aren’t sure why those people didn’t die,” Phil continued. “I have some suspicions, but nothing like that has happened before so that's all they are. Suspicions.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Technoblade huffed. The image of Jerry, eyes glowing green with the scalpel in his throat popped into his head.

“None of the important prisoners escaped. Dante, Jericho, the higher nobility,” Phil stated. “And we can already confirm that none that escaped were able to get away.”

Technoblade shivered at the thought. He had seen all of the bodies scattered on the ground. Even protection from death couldn’t help you escape from the Empire’s clutches.

What did that mean for him?

“We’ll have to make some changes to security,” Phil continued with a frown, a dark muted anger flashing in his eyes. “It is completely unacceptable for anyone to be able to get that close to the nest, especially with-”

Phil cut himself off, pursing his lips.

“-especially since we have you, now, and you are so much more breakable,” Phil finished. Technoblade rolled his eyes.

“Bruh, then how about you give me a sword or something to defend myself, if you are so worried-”

“No,” Phil said instantly. Technoblade sighed in disappointment. “I know you well enough to know that you would try to use it to escape-”

“-I’d never dream of it-”

“-and then you would most likely end up more hurt than you already are,” Phil finished. “So, absolutely not.”

Technoblade huffed and looked away, leaning his head against the wall. Bitterness settled in his heart, the feeling of being trapped weighing heavily on him.

“That’s a lot of concern coming from the person who caused my injuries in the first place,” Technoblade drawled. Technoblade opened one eye to peer at Phil, feeling satisfied with the suddenly blank expression that crossed the Emperor’s face. 

“You can’t blame Dad for that!” Prince Theseus said suddenly, sitting up straight and glaring at Technoblade. Technoblade scoffed.

“Really, then who should I blame, in your opinion?” Technoblade said, deceptively calm. Chat whispered in his ears, but he paid them no mind.

“The High Priest, obviously.”

“Wow. Now, wouldn’t that be convenient for you?” Technoblade drawled, each word dripping in sarcasm. “Instead of blaming the man who injured me, shifting the blame to someone else entirely. I wonder why my captors would want me to do that?”

“Techno, stop being a bitch! You were never supposed to get hurt in all of this,” Prince Theseus gritted his teeth as he glared at Technoblade.

“Oh, of course. How silly of me. How could I blame the person who injured me just because it was ‘not supposed to happen’? My bad, Your Highness,” Technoblade scoffed. Prince Theseus’s expression darkened. 

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” Prince Theseus shouted, jumping to his feet. Wilbur flinched, watching his brother with concern. “You were supposed to be in the palace! You were supposed to be safe! You were supposed to be with me , when Lord Hypixel let Dad in the wall. You were supposed to be with me when I met up with Dad. Had that bastard High Priest not interfered with his shitty coup attempt, Dad would have gotten that fucking bracelet off and we would have kept you safe and not a single hair on your head would be harmed.”

Technoblade mulled over the words in silence for a moment, considering them. They had planned out all of that? But then, that begged the question of-

“Why?” Technoblade asked. Chat buzzed in his ears with anticipation.

“Why what?” Tommy spat back, glaring at Technoblade.

“Why go to that effort? Is this game y’all are playing with me that entertaining? Gods, eternity must be boring if that’s the case,” Technoblade muttered. Prince Theseus stared back at Technoblade with confusion, anger fizzling out.

“What game?” Prince Theseus asked, brow furrowed.

“You know,” Technoblade gestured to the Royal Family, wincing slightly at the movement. “Whatever game…this is.”

Prince Theseus stared at Technoblade with a baffled expression. Technoblade almost wanted to laugh.

“Mate,” Phil said, placing his hand gently on Technoblade’s shoulder, careful to not so much as jostle it. “We aren’t playing a game with you.”

“Sure,” Technoblade said with bitterness. “Whatever.”

“Techno-”

“Technoblade, you really need to understand that you are ours . We have no intention of throwing you away, or hurting you,” Wilbur interjected, tugging on Prince Theseus’s sleeve and pulling the blond to sit down. “You are ours forever.”

“Forever? That’s a bit of a stretch,” Technoblade snarked. “Even if you weren’t lying, it would be more like seventy years, Your Highness. It’s not like humans live all that long, compared to vampires-”

“Techno-”

“It’s more like the equivalent of having a cat’s lifespan. Some kind of pet,” Technoblade said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if that's better than being treated as a weapon or not.”

“You’re not a pet, Technoblade,” Prince Theseus hissed.

“Then what am I?” Technoblade asked, Chat’s buzz growing with anticipation.

“You’re-” Prince Theseus bit his lip, eyes flicking to Phil. “You’re-”

“Toms,” Phil’s voice was low, a warning. Technoblade looked between them with interest. Something was…shifting.

“Phiiil,” Prince Theseus whined. “Please.”

“Tommy, I told you-”

“Dad, I agree with Tommy on this one,” Wilbur spoke up. Prince Theseus turned to his brother with a grin. “He isn’t going to trust us if he thinks we’re toying with him. He's stubborn, and he is dead set on viewing us like those Priests. Tommy and I fucked up and unless we give him a good reason to listen to us, he won't. No matter how hands off we are.”

Phil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. He looked away from Prince Theseus and Wilbur, before studying Technoblade. Technoblade froze under the stare, feeling suddenly apprehensive about the conversation. Phil didn’t blink as he looked at Technoblade, glancing from his face, to the sling on his arm, to the spot of blood on his wrist.

“Fine,” Phil said, with a sigh. Wilbur and Prince Theseus grinned. 

“What’s fine?” Technoblade said nervously. Phil studied Technoblade for a moment longer before he answered.

“I told you that there is only one thing I wouldn’t give my sons, remember?” Phil asked, something shrewd in his expression.

“Yes? And then we-”

“I never said what I wouldn’t give them, did I?” Phil continued, ignoring Technoblade’s interruption.

“No, you didn’t,” Technoblade answered, his heart rate picking up as dread settled in his stomach. Technoblade didn’t move as Phil reached out his hand, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind Technoblade’s ear.

“The one thing I will not give them is my permission to leave me,” Phil said, with a smile. “My sons are never allowed to leave. Not for long, anyways. I love them too much to ever let them go.”

Technoblade didn’t respond for a moment, staring at Phil with confusion. Why was Phil telling him this? Unless- a terrifying suspicion formed in his head. But that couldn’t be-no there wasn’t-

“When we return to the Empire,” Phil continued carefully watching Technoblade’s face. Technoblade stared back in dawning horror. “You will become my son. Forever.”

Emperor Philza grinned wide.

“And no power on earth will take you away from me.”

Previous | Next

#Lenn Writes #To Be Truly Free #Chapter 18

[electionfraudking]

I give you a hamburger. The universe is engulfed within itself. A bus advertising hotdogs drives by a papillon. It disapproves. An unnatural force reverses Earth's gravity. You ask for a hamburger. I reciprocate with a mildly convulsing potato. You disapprove. Your disapproval releases a cosmic shift in the void between birth and life. You ask for a hamburger. A certain small dog feasts on hamburger patties for the rest of its unnatural, eternal endurance. Your constant disapproval sends silence through everything. A contrived beast becomes omnipotent. You ask for a hamburger. I give you a hamburger your body becomes an unsettled blob of nothingness, then divides by three. The papillon barks. The universe realigns itself. You, the papillon, and the hamburger disapprove. This condemnation stops the realignment. Hades freezes over. A pig is launched is launched into the unoccupied existence between space and time with a specific hamburger. You ask for a hamburger. I give you a hamburger. It screams as you lift it to your face. You laugh maniacally as I plead with you. You devour the hamburger as it pleads for mercy. I disapprove and condemn you to an eternity in a certain void where a certain pig and its specific hamburger are located. The Universal Space-time Continuum Committee disapproves of my irrational decision. You are locked away and are fed hamburgers for the rest of your natural existence. A pickle refuses to break down during the process of digestion. You die in a freak accident. A certain pickle lives the rest of its life in a comatose state. Your soul disapproves. Down the street a child cries as a hamburger gets stuck in, and climbs back up, her esophagus. You ask again for a hamburger. I refuse to reciprocate. You demand a lawyer. I remind you harshly that this is the new world order. Lawyers no longer exist. Only papillons. Your name is written on a list of sins. Blasphemy. You ask for a hamburger. The comatose pickle vanquishes your soul from this universe. Realignment occurs. You beg for a hamburger. A certain papillon's name is written on an obelisk in Egypt. Mumble. Peasants worship the obelisk. Your soulless corpse partakes in the festivity. Hamburgers are banned universally. The sun implodes. All planets cease to have ever existed. Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Saturn. Uranus. Neptune. Pluto is the only mass in existence. Conveniently, you are on vacation here. Your need for hamburgers re-establishes space-time. Earth is recreated under your intergalactic rule. Hamburgers are your army. You wake up. Clowns. Clowns everywhere. Your dream rushes to meet you. You are kidnapped. You ask for a hamburger. They hand you a hotdog.

Master i know this is you

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: January 12/24

Happy Friday everyone!! I hope you had a wonderful week, and are ready to enjoy some more fic recs to get you started on the weekend! Enjoy!!

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

MARKED FOR LATER

Hand Me the Salt, Love? by topsyturvy_turtely (G, 554 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pet Names, Flustered Sherlock, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff Without Plot) – John is cooking. Sherlock is not helping. Until...

Locked Room by Calais_Reno (T, 8,346 w., 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Pool Scene, Mystery, Near Death Experience, Drug Addiction, Serious Injuries, Temporary Amnesia, POV Alternating, Love Confessions, Happy Ending) – John wakes up in a locked room, unable to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is his hands covered in blood, trying to keep a soldier from dying. His roommate also seems to be suffering from amnesia, and has decided that John is a delusion. Part 33 of Just Johnlock

Walk of Shame by 72reasons (E, 14,355+ w., 9/? Ch. || WiP || Alternate First Meeting AU || Meet-Ugly, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Sad John, Suicidal Thoughts, Casual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Threesome, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) – John is just back from the war and wanders the city wondering what he’s going to do. One of his distractions is having casual sex with a beautiful, but annoying, woman. Sherlock usually refrains from sex, but in trying to stay sober he indulges in it now and again. Sherlock meets John on the street and sparks fly. Casual sex is one thing, but what about something more?

#five fics friday #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs

[desomniis]

Chapter 4 (excerpt) | I’m not sure but it feels like truth

Read the full story on AO3. 

—

Despite the upcoming astronomy test, Charles felt that they had to take advantage of this opportunity. To his surprise, no one else had come up to the tower to use the telescopes. Carlos was already fiddling with one of the telescopes. After preparing the instrument, Carlos extended his hand to Charles with a bright, infectious grin. “Clear skies tonight, my friend. The stars are calling.”

Before Charles could even realise, he was pulled into the depths of the universe. From his leather-bound book, Carlos had begun to tell the tale of the stars, pointing out each constellation. Charles was utterly captivated as Carlos weaved together the legend of gods, heroes and monsters. Every star was a character in a bigger, grander story, with its own unique history and place within the cosmos. A single thread spun into another, and another, creating a delicately intricate pattern in the sky. 

As Carlos traced his finger across the sky, Charles felt like a sailor embarking on a journey across uncharted sea, relying on the stars as a compass. And that compass led him straight to Carlos' eyes. In the ethereal glow of the tower's dim light, his gaze sparkled like a cluster of stars swimming in a sea of gold, their brilliance filling Charles with wonder. The deeper he delved into those lustrous, golden orbs, the further he gets into peering the very fabric of the universe, where the mysteries of creation lay dormant, waiting to be uncovered by those valiant enough.

Time stood still and the world around him faded away as Charles held Carlos' gaze. The universe, once a vast and endless expanse, now only revolved around the two of them. Like a supernova exploding in slow motion, their lips drew closer and closer until they finally met in a slow and tender kiss. For a moment, the universe was quiet, as if the entire cosmos held their breath to witness the union of two stars. The sensation was like nothing Charles had ever experienced before, as though the universe realigned and created their very own constellation, forever entwined in the fabric of the night sky. Like gravity, Carlos drew him in further into his arms until there was no space left between them. Their kiss deepened and Charles could only describe it as if Andromeda were colliding with the Milky Way: their lips meeting with a force that both tore them apart and bound them together. It was everything Charles could ever dream of and more.

The intensity of the moment left Charles feeling breathless and dizzy. He leaned his forehead against Carlos', and they remained still, their eyes closed and their hearts beating fast in their chests. 

He felt a warmth radiating from Carlos, a warmth that seemed to fill the air around them and carry them away from reality. He wanted to stay lost in the moment forever, to just keep kissing and never let go. But eventually, Carlos pulled away, his expression gentle. Charles looked into his eyes, searching for the glimmer of stars, but he only saw the light of a dying candle, they weren’t as bright as they used to be.

#charlos #Charles Leclerc #Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #f1 #f1 rpf #drive to survive #dts s5 #scuderia ferrari #fanfiction

[axiolotl]

for the longest time -- and i mean, almost 18 years now -- I haven't been able to lounge on my right side. because my right boob is larger than my left, anytime i go to lounge on that side and don't have immediate support on that side and gravity pulls it down harder and it's SO uncomfortable. it's not...painful, but I can't lay like that for more than a minute bc of the discomfort.

enough that when I lounge on the couch i HAVE to be on my left side, enough that my PT says my hips need to be realigned bc I only go on one side forever

and BOY am i excited for that to be gone post top surgery!

#ellis.txt

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Falling stardust, wobbly jets explain blinking gamma ray bursts A Northwestern University-led team of astrophysicists has developed the first-ever full 3D simulation of an entire evolution of a jet formed by a collapsing star, or a “collapsar.” Because these jets generate gamma ray bursts (GRBs) — the most energetic and luminous events in the universe since the Big Bang — the simulations have shed light on these peculiar, intense bursts of light. Their new findings include an explanation for the longstanding question of why GRBs are mysteriously punctuated by quiet moments — blinking between powerful emissions and an eerily quiet stillness. The new simulation also shows that GRBs are even rarer than previously thought. The new study will be published on June 29 in Astrophysical Journal Letters. It marks the first full 3D simulation of the entire evolution of a jet — from its birth near the black hole to its emission after escaping from the collapsing star. The new model also is the highest-ever resolution simulation of a large-scale jet. “These jets are the most powerful events in the universe,” said Northwestern’s Ore Gottlieb, who led the study. “Previous studies have tried to understand how they work, but those studies were limited by computational power and had to include many assumptions. We were able to model the entire evolution of the jet from the very beginning — from its birth by a black hole — without assuming anything about the jet’s structure. We followed the jet from the black hole all the way to the emission site and found processes that have been overlooked in previous studies.” Gottlieb is a Rothschild Fellow in Northwestern’s Center for Interdisciplinary Exploration and Research in Astrophysics (CIERA). He coauthored the paper with CIERA member Sasha Tchekhovskoy, an assistant professor of physics and astronomy at Northwestern’s Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences. Weird wobbling The most luminous phenomenon in the universe, GRBs emerge when the core of a massive star collapses under its own gravity to form a black hole. As gas falls into the rotating black hole, it energizes — launching a jet into the collapsing star. The jet punches the star until finally escaping from it, accelerating at speeds close to the speed of light. After breaking free from the star, the jet generates a bright GRB. “The jet generates a GRB when it reaches about 30 times the size of the star — or a million times the size of the black hole,” Gottlieb said. “In other words, if the black hole is the size of a beach ball, the jet needs to expand over the entire size of France before it can produce a GRB.” Due to the enormity of this scale, previous simulations have been unable to model the full evolution of the jet’s birth and subsequent journey. Using assumptions, all previous studies found that the jet propagates along one axis and never deviates from that axis. But Gottlieb’s simulation showed something very different. As the star collapses into a black hole, material from that star falls onto the disk of magnetized gas that swirls around the black hole. The falling material causes the disk to tilt, which, in turn, tilts the jet. As the jet struggles to realign with its original trajectory, it wobbles inside the collapsar. This wobbling provides a new explanation for why GRBs blink. During the quiet moments, the jet doesn’t stop — its emission beams away from Earth, so telescopes simply cannot observe it. “Emission from GRBs is always irregular,” Gottlieb said. “We see spikes in emission and then a quiescent time that lasts for a few seconds or more. The entire duration of a GRB is about one minute, so these quiescent times are a non-negligible fraction of the total duration. Previous models were not able to explain where these quiescent times were coming from. This wobbling naturally gives an explanation to that phenomenon. We observe the jet when its pointing at us. But when the jet wobbles to point away from us, we cannot see its emission. This is part of Einstein’s theory of relativity.” Rare becomes rarer These wobbly jets also provide new insights into the rate and nature of GRBs. Although previous studies estimated that about 1% of collapsars produce GRBs, Gottlieb believes that GRBs are actually much rarer. If the jet were constrained to moving along one axis, then it would only cover a thin slice of the sky — limiting the likelihood of observing it. But the wobbly nature of the jet means that astrophysicists can observe GRBs at different orientations, increasing the likelihood of spotting them. According to Gottlieb’s calculations, GRBs are 10 times more observable than previously thought, which means that astrophysicists are missing 10 times fewer GRBs than previously thought. “The idea is that we observe GRBs on the sky in a certain rate, and we want to learn about the true rate of GRBs in the universe,” Gottlieb explained. “The observed and true rates are different because we can only see the GRBs that are pointing at us. That means we need to assume something about the angle that these jets cover on the sky, in order to infer the true rate of GRBs. That is, what fraction of GRBs we are missing. Wobbling increases the number of detectable GRBs, so the correction from the observed to true rate is smaller. If we miss fewer GRBs, then there are fewer GRBs overall in the sky.” If this is true, Gottlieb posits, then most of the jets either fail to be launched at all or never succeed in escaping from the collapsar to produce a GRB. Instead, they remain buried inside. Mixed energy The new simulations also revealed that some of the magnetic energy in the jets partially converts to thermal energy. This suggests that the jet has a hybrid composition of magnetic and thermal energies, which produce the GRB. In a major step forward in understanding the mechanisms that power GRBs, this is the first time researchers have inferred the jet composition of GRBs at the time of emission. “Studying jets enables us to ‘see’ what happens deep inside the star as it collapses,” Gottlieb said. “Otherwise, it’s difficult to learn what happens in a collapsed star because light cannot escape from the stellar interior. But we can learn from the jet emission — the history of the jet and the information that it carries from the systems that launch them.” The major advance of the new simulation partially lies in its computational power. Using the code “H-AMR” on supercomputers at the Oak Ridge Leadership Computing Facility in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, the researchers developed the new simulation, which uses graphical processing units (GPUs) instead of central processing units (CPUs). Extremely efficient at manipulating computer graphics and image processing, GPUs accelerate the creation of images on a display. The study, “Black hole to photosphere: 3D GRMHD simulations of collapsars reveal wobbling and hybrid composition jets,” was supported by the Fermi Cycle 14 Guest Investigator program (award numbers 80NSSC22K0031, 80NSSC21K1951 and 80NSSC21K1938), the National Science Foundation (award numbers AST-2107839, AST-1815304, AST-1911080, AST-2031997, AST-2107806 and 2020747), NASA (award number 80NSSC18K0565) and the Israel Science Foundation (award number 1657/18). ________________________________________ TOP IMAGE....Jet (in red) wobbles inside the collapsar before punching out into the photosphere. CREDIT Ore Gottlieb/Northwestern University CENTRE IMAGE....After breaking free from the collapsar, the jet generates a bright gamma ray burst (GRB). CREDIT Ore Gottlieb/Northwestern University LOWER IMAGE....A close-up view of the disk (in orange) tilting, causing the jets (in purple) to wobble. CREDIT Ore Gottlieb/Northwestern University

#space #science #Astronomy #physics #news #stellar evolution

[fordtato]

me desperately trying to realign the timeline of my gravity falls fan sequel after watching your your timeline video (this is 100% lighthearted btw i love both your gravity falls videos so SO much you're really feeding us diehard fans still sticking around in 2023 and i appreciate it deeply)

AAAAH THANK YOU. I had so much fun making it (and also a lot of stress and also a lot of joy and also a lot of tears). I am still not 100% sure mine is even right, if that helps (there are some extra details in the pinned comment on the video of stuff i might have gotten wrong).

i've never been able to stop thinking about GF, so I guess I'm just here forever. And if im here forever, i might as well make videos about it lol.

good luck with your efforts (and remember, even if your timeline isn't perfect, if anything, that makes it MORE like the GF canon)!

#gravity falls #ask #thank you so much