#But if it does let up there will be this huge empty void in my life so I’m fine with things the way they are 😁 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auraworkshop · 4 months

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🎀 MY VOID SUCCESS STORY 🎀

Hi Aura, I'm also one of those peoples who WOKE UP IN THE VOID using your sub. I'm so grateful to you <3

I have been in this community for preety long and never seen any blogger doing this except riri and you! I always used to I wish I could also take advantage when little manifested for people as I wasn't there on the time when she did so.

But a GENUINE THANKS to you for manifesting the void for people !

Thankyou for giving us an upgraded and effortless way to enter the void.

You are the only blogger here who really wants to help people I swear, everyone else here are just taking ADVANTAGE of those who are desperate to change their lives.

They just repeat those old same posts over and over about motivation, persisting ENDLESSLY, doing this and that ... And I know that half of the people of the void community are LYING about their so called success stories :)

But I know you are gonna bring a huge change in this community soon enough,

Your approach to move this community forward is like watering the dull flowers to make them bloom again🌷!!

Btw, My void experience was truly horrible, I literally felt like I almost died, ☠️ the symptoms were so INTENSE like seriously!! But when I got in, it was peaceful, silent, black and something space like uk...

I manifested 150+ pages of my desires ofcourse I'm ain't gonna list all of em but I'll list the main thinggs here :

🎀Looking like wonyoung ( face )

🎀Body structure like Jennie

🎀Hairs like lisaa LOL

🎀Doe eyes

🎀Lucky girl syndrome

🎀Manifested back my dead granny

🎀A cat

🎀Living near wonyoung

🎀Life app

🎀1 million dollars to be credited to my bank account every 24 hours

🎀Caring, chiil and cool parents

🎀Knowing every language

🎀Not being clumsy

🎀Never having children's

🎀Increased my age ( only 2 years ☠️ )

🎀Voice like Ariana

🎀My crush

🎀Desired wardrobe

🎀Loyal friends

🎀Forgetting about my life before void ( I seriously don't remember anything)

🎀No need to go to poop again

🎀The ability to fly and stop time

THANKYOU FOR EXISTING <3, I'm gonna deactivate now and live my dream life !!

Love ya, mwahh ♡

SUCCESS STORY ♡

Congratulations buddy ! I know It can be frustrating when people keep saying the same things over and over again and not actually taking any concrete action. I truly believe in helping people in a genuine and meaningful way, not just repeating empty motivational jargon. I'm so glad to hear that you are now finally living your dream life :) Let's keep supporting each other and bringing much-needed changes to the void community 🤍

#void #void state #void success #void state success story

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i3utterflyeffect · 4 months

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For your King Merc AU since you asked for asks! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

If Second did end up getting hurt somehow, how'd King take it?

[For example: Lab guys are too rough with Second or perhaps King notices leftover injuries from the Second vs Agent "Wanted" scuffle]

And also can I request a doodle or skit of the time King caught that lab employee riding Agent's hoverbike? hehe

thank you for your ask i appreciate this one a lot >:3

SO! the reason i split this in two is because this question is actually more complicated than it seems!

also it's because you made me think about how scarring would work because my brain autocorrected when i skim read and said 'oh the battle with the dark lord, i guess he would see those scars'. so. oops. sorry lol

First off, King would (obviously) not take it well if (or more likely, WHEN, knowing Alan) SC gets hurt. SC's already pretty badly banged up from fighting The Dark Lord, and being scarred is really not great for stick figures because of how i imagine it works:

Basically the short of it is that severe and/or untreated injuries can cause lines to fray or 'split' sometimes! this can be treated by other stickmen usually but the kids don't really think abt it that much until The Dark Lord came around

at that point Alan and the others were worrying too much about everything that happened to SC to attempt to find anyone who'd know anything about it, especially since they didn't want to freak out SC by telling them that they should absolutely be dead right now.

Second off, King isn't really surprised by any wounds gotten during Wanted-- He was actually there for it.

He doesn't go after Second Coming like the others-- he does actually try to stop the others initially, but he's... unintentionally interrupted.

Everyone else was distracted by The Chosen One or Second Coming, so it went unnoticed for the most part-- By the other mercs, anyway.

Second Coming was also panicking too hard to really think about the fact that King was hesitant to hurt her, so when they meet again it's not exactly a relieving reunion until King clarifies.

King feels incredibly guilty about not stopping the others-- He could have gotten Second Coming to surrender if he just played it cool and managed to tell SC what was happening, but it's too late now.

...King realizes pretty quickly that he's probably going to have to make a choice, and he might never get the chance to see the other side through.

It would be so much simpler if Victim had just offered to bring Gold back from the dead-- He could have let it go. He would have chosen to save the others. Maybe a part of him would still wish he had made the other choice, but he could live with that.

But Gold isn't dead-- They're trapped. Trapped in an empty void, probably a fate worse than death.

He can't just leave his child there to rot.

But on the other hand, he can't just let another kid die. He can't let down his new kid, either.

He's in a huge moral dilemma and he can't live with either side that he could take.

Really, he just wishes Victim had said nothing, and he hates that, because that'd mean no one would ever find Gold. They wouldn't even know they were alive. But it would have been so, so much easier.

reblogs > likes

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darlingpwease · 9 months

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Luo Bingge: The way you look at me, the only memory is just us kissing in the moonlight~

Reader: WHAT THE FUCK WHO ARE YOU!

(I just wanted to respond to your genius au where Bingge finds us in the real world and we are basically the exact same copy of them)

<333 hehehe~ so accurate,,,

can't remember to forget you

I love very much, very much you

♡ pet names, unhealthy behaviour (non-consensual touching), forced relationship (not really relationship) if you squint, mention of violence + death (in past); bingge is my little pathetic woof woof who has done nothing wrong in his life, bingge sleeps with everyone who reminds him of you regardless of gender to match the settings

LUO BINGHE was at a loss.

"Character in a novel"? "Proud Immortal Demon Way?"

"Follow the instructions of the system"?

When he was moved to an incomprehensible room, something in between a peasant's hut and a townsman's house, LUO BINGHE could only look around through translucent floating jade tiles with words drawn on them, the meaning of which he could not really understand, even if he understood these words individually as well as their meaning, and already wanted to irritably sweep everything away this is aside — when gaze caught on a painfully familiar face.

He would have remembered these features even in death.

Instincts reacts much faster than mind, immediately reaching the body lying on the bed with a couple of steps — and putting his hands on the sides of their head, hanging with an incomprehensible white noise in ears, when all the blood in his body was boiling from just one sight, makes his throat dry up.

The system buzzes something in ear, but LUO BINGHE is unable to think or react when he sees a familiar face, serene and sleeping, but the same as before he was forced to survive, clinging to the remnants of strength and life only for the sake of one single thing, for the sake of one single person.

Your face.

Just as magnificent and breath-taking as many, many years ago — even when he himself was a disciple, your shidi, and looked up at you, really resembling a small animal that repeats after a wiser one — certainly not an 'animal'.

Rather, it was like he was turning from a beast into a Human Being, indulging in your restrained affection and supervision so that he would not have qi deviation or other problems, finally getting someone over the years who cares about him, sincerely pampering and letting him know that he is not came into this world for nothing.

Everything just snapped in an instant. Your life has been cut short just as a burning stick of incense is extinguished with a finger.

And he was not there at the most terrible moment of your life, although he swore that he would always be with you, would save and help.

How funny.

Plan to confess his love after he brings the first place to your feet like an obedient pet, only to return to your empty grave. You would never forgive him — never — but did it make sense if you now can't scold him or praise him? Did it make sense that the world was killing the people most dear to him over and over again? Does it make sense that even you left him after all?

Does it make sense that it wasn't even demons who killed you, but other cultivators?

You would tell him that it has. That this is a test. That his hatred wouldn't change anything. That revenge brings bliss to the heart, but poisons the soul. That his demonic blood doesn't make him a demon and who he is is the result of a choice. That a good and decent cultivator should not have a huge harem just to fill the void in his soul. That sex is not the only way to feel needed. That he doesn't need power to be loved. That he is loved simply because he is. That he doesn't need to imagine you every time he tries to find the same warmth in the soft tender bodies of rare beauties. That he does not need to look for the companies of beautiful young men and maidens just to find at least somewhere the same delight that he experienced even when you scolded him.

He just wanted to be a 'good boy' for you, — whom you can love, kiss, take with you, treat with treats, let him take care of you, — why did everything turn out this way?

His fingers are smooth, soft — the same as he had when he was still a disciple — and when they touch your cheek, your eyelashes tremble, as if echoing soft strokes, while he puts other hand on your other cheek with intoxicating delight, feeling the warm gentle air on his skin, — and trembling, sitting on the edge next to you, continuing to ignore the chirping which soon falls silent, as if realizing that LUO BINGHE is unable to react right now.

Everything inside him burns and melts like hot metal.

Is that you? Is it really you? Senior fellow disciple?

Does the senior fellow disciple still think this Binghe is handsome? Does the senior fellow disciple still love this Binghe? Will the senior fellow disciple be proud of how strong and powerful this Binghe has become, or will scold for what he did?

Perhaps he is now no better than an animal thrown out on the street, who has found a way to a cozy and warm house, but even when it's hard for him to breathe so as not to cry, he just continues to look at the facial features that bring him pain and pleasure at the same time, like an old wound that is being opened up to blood, while he don't mind. If he had a tail, he would wag it so much that he would wake you up, but you sleep so serenely, as if you don't notice his presence, — although it is, you couldn't notice his presence, — and LUO BINGHE needs all the willpower not to cling tightly to you and never let go of his embrace, crying about how painful it was for him without you and that you can no longer leave him, never, or he will follow you — no matter to hell or heaven, to another world or beyond life, you can no longer go where he cannot follow.

Breath. Exhale.

Breath.

Exhale.

He is no longer that intemperate and stupid shidi, who could only smile sweetly, baring his fangs to anyone who wanted to touch his, and could only try to physically take care of you and be pretty and obedient, thinking that this way you will not leave him and will always keep him close as a cute and good boytoy. LUO BINGHE — now — knows what it's like to be without you after you've given him a taste of this feeling of love and care. That true love must be won with passion and body; that it must be protected with claws and fangs; that the whole world is against anyone being able to love him.

That if he wants to be loved, then he should make you look only at him.

And he will make you look only at him.

Everything about you is the same — from the smell of your hair to the reaction, you are exactly the same. That's you, isn't it?

Love of his life.

It can only be you.

When your eyes open slightly, reacting to his touch and proximity, LUO BINGHE does not try to hide an intoxicated enthusiastic smile, even if there is nothing in your eyes but horror and misunderstanding.

“Hello, my love... Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry; I'll help you warm up and fall asleep~”

The character Luo Binghe from the novel 'Proud Immortal Demon Way' will be able to continue living in this world or return to his own world after achieving the main goal.

Do you accept the terms?

Yes.

“It's not like you can run away from me now, after all~”

#❖.my jewelry #🥮 — svsss #✉.luo binghe #🧸.yandere au #🧸.unhealthy #🧸.regt #gender neutral reader

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nemetonisevilpassiton · 10 months

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Another thing I wanted to ask was what do you thing of the use of claustrophobia in teen wolf? Of course the only openly claustrophobic character is Isaac but it seems as though themes as "being trapped" are used often: Stiles or Peter being locked inside themselves (by the Nogitsune or the coma), Malia being trapped in coyote shape, the schoolnight, the kidnapping, the siege, etc... Maybe Stiles' symbolic revolving around keys and doors is also hugely symptomatic of that fear (he's the one that ends up being the most trapped whether it's in a room or outside reality, in a nightmare, situation, etc). He's also the one handling mountain ash the most (ultimate trapping device). Then there's the lingering question of repressing the beast (trapped inside like for Scott) or releasing it (s1 Peter) which is illustrated with the bank vault debacle. And of course with the question of small opressive spaces broadens to the idea of open and huge oppressives spaces: Erica talks about vertigo (which appears more than once), you talked about the bodies of water, there's the woods that seems almost always mainly unknown and to be discovered, there's the white space in which Stiles is during the Void, etc...

(and there's Stiles shitty understanding of spaces and how he keeps bumping in thing but that's something else)

I thought it was an interesting subject and I wondered what you had to say about it since you seem to have a huge grasp of cinematic symbolism, of the horror genre and a precise analysis of teen wolf

i am avoiding writing my fic again, just finishing this cup of tea [black tea with peach and passionfruit, yum] before vanishing back into the void

and you're right - it's not interesting it's fascinating

and absolutely something that should be explored, because the fears of claustrophobia and vertigo are linked to the concept of void, as is water [dark water in teen wolf is ... water is bad, lets leave it at that because it's a huge thing.

Void is absence but also the presence of emptiness - it is by its nature paradoxical, space is a thing but it is defined by the fact that there is nothing there- arent definitions fun

so Erica's vertigo could be an exhalation of Void which we know was messing with the town since the 40's at least, but probably early, was the creature that possessed Rhys an avatar of void or do we call it that when it's probably the creature from Outlast instead. The possession of Rhys does not match the hallmarks in canon of a nogitsune possession [interstingly the thing in the movie DOES - leading me to suggest in the meta discord about how it might be allison's nogitsune and explaining why it was fascinated with scott and wanted revenge on him when the stiles possession used him like a lunchbox and dropped him like trash]

right let's use an easy example - sandra bullock in gravity, imagine the vertigo of that - there is NOTHING in every direction, if the world goes spinning are you spinning or is it a trick of the mind....

but claustrophobia is the absence of space - it is the mind taking away the space around itself in the same way that vertigo is the increase of space

i hope I'm making sense but basically vertigo and claustrophobia become inverted mirrors of each other because of Void

are these phobia manipulated by a creature that feeds on fear?

Stiles' fear of drowning is .... for a long time the meta pack were saying we think Stiles' mom tried to kill him [from 306 onwards in fact] and she might follow the line of La Llorona because of Stiles' association with both water and drowning

as a rule in teen wolf still water = death, unless stiles is there, I'm summarising a lot of work there, running water = corruption unless stiles is there

stiles is the qualifier - Scott is an outlier [most patterns exclude him] but Stiles changes the game without even intending to - characters find themselves revealing great secrets to him, Argent voices his doubts, the chemist revealed his great plan [and do you think Stiles popped his head unknowingly or did mctall shoot him?], Stiles can break mountain ash with a wave of his hand, Stiles makes and breaks doorways, he is a creature of transitional spaces [a huge deal in the is stiles something argument], and his phobia is the opposite of void's two machinations - like the literal opposite, you are both adrift and surrounded - the water is both crushing and holding you up away from the bottom, it is neither vertigo [you[re supported] or claustrophobia [you're not enclosed]

so here's the question - did void possess stiles because he was powerful or because he had no power over him

every power that stiles showcased as void he used when he was not possessed and he is linked to the nemeton - and when void first took stiles he tried to kill him

fun aint it?

#teen wolf meta #void!stiles

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coro-chan6 · 10 months

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Somehow Supernatural

Summary: What happens when you somehow end up in the Supernatural universe? What happens when you're somehow special in the Supernatural universe? Read on to see the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: poc!character, gn!character, teen!character, heavy cursing, Winchester madness, Dean needs a warning just for himself

Word Count: 2018

Chapter One: What The Fuck and Where The Fuck

Do you ever feel like time is going slow? I usually don’t because I’m a fast-paced type of person, but lately, I’ve felt like time has come to a standstill. It feels like my 10th-grade year ended three months ago when it’s only been three weeks. I feel like I haven’t seen my friends in 2 weeks and not the mere two days that it actually has been.

I don’t know why my world feels like it’s spinning at half the speed it usually does. Maybe it’s because I’m excited? In August, I’ll start my junior year. My first year in high school that I’ll be an upperclassman. Maybe I’m happy at the prospect of almost being done with high school. Or… is time not going by because I’m not having fun? I haven’t been completely bored, but it hasn’t been the best summer I’ve ever experienced.

Is there something waiting for me in the near future? Did my world slow because I have something to look out for?

I know this sounds really dramatic. Some 16-year-old goof with an overactive imagination. Perhaps that’s it… but something in me can’t let it go.

Welcome to my thoughts! They never end, even when I’m asleep. They take me down dark and gorey paths and also wildly stupid would-never-happen-in-a-million-years paths as well. All this shit in my mind flying around at lightspeed is probably why I’m such a good writer. Or, at least I think I’m a good writer. And my mom, but do moms really count?

I come up with things that are unique and cool. Because I’m a unique and cool person. I don’t know who I’m talking to but I feel like I’m talking to someone so instead of letting you suffocate in the hornets nest that is my mind, I’ll introduce myself.

I’m… actually I don’t want you to know my name, but I’ll tell you other things. I’m 16 and I like anime, and colorful stuff, and reading, and writing, and basically anything. I’m flexible like that. I can deal with people until I run out of battery like most introverted people. I have a severe superiority complex that I like to pretend isn’t a thing, but it’s definitely a thing. It doesn’t affect how I interact with people, but since you’re in my head, um, you’ll see all of it. I thought I’d give you a heads-up.

Anyway, what are you doing in my head? Who are you? It may be my superiority complex talking here but… am I some special being that’s about to save the universe or something?

…I’ll take your silence as a no.

Could you talk to me though? It’d make me feel much less lonely and a lot less crazy.

…

Oh my god, what am I doing? There’s no one in my head. There’s no one listening to my thoughts. I am quite literally just a goofy teenager that thinks they’re gonna gain superpowers but, let’s be honest, what I really gained was a mental illness.

That’s what this is, isn’t it? I have split personalities like Tobias Hankel in Criminal Minds. Am I gonna start killing people because my alter ego demands it of me? Am I gonna go to prison? I know I’ve talked huge crap about how tough I am to my friends, but I would be deluding myself if I thought I could survive prison. I would be eaten alive!

Wake up!

Be so hilariously for real! I am so awake I can see the words spinning around in my head. I’m so awake that I could pinch my arm - when I find it - and it would hurt as much as my self-harm! I am awake!

…

Okay, I can’t find my arm. I know I said I would so I could pinch it, but I look down to where my arm should be and there’s nothing there but black. And I’m not saying that because I’m black because I’m not. All black people are brown, let’s get real. It’s a dark ass void. Like, a space of complete emptiness.

Maybe I’m not as awake as I thought I was.

Wake up!

Dude, I’m trying! It has never been this hard for me to wake up in my life. Even when I was having those dreams about that tall, gnarly-handed fucker chasing me around I still had an out. I had that key that I would find and it would wake me up. And, yes, that sounds like the most made-up shit in existence, but those are my dreams. They’re a fucking acid trip.

“Wake up!” Hold on just a second… I’ve heard that voice before. It’s familiar, at least.

Not my mom, not my dad, not either of my brothers, none of my friends sound like that. It’s kinda looking like I don’t know this eerily familiar voice and I’m making shit up to sound cool, but I’m not!

I feel someone shaking my shoulders like I’ve pissed them off or something. I would have been upset, but the feeling in my shoulders means I have to have arms! Right?

“Wake up! I did not hit you that hard!” They continued to shake me like I was a fucking snow globe, “You better not be messing with me, dude!”

The dark void and my thoughts that I could see as words in front of me were starting to fade away. After they did, I was kinda hoping that I could’ve stayed in the darkness forever. I mean, if this was a dream - and it definitely was - this was one of the most realistic ones I’ve had. So realistic that it was practically rude.

The image that replaced the void was a face. A face that I never thought I’d see except for on my calendar and TV. If I wasn’t going batshit crazy, I was seeing the Dean Winchester leaning over me as I was laid out flat on… hardass concrete?

“I swear I taught you how to avoid that move weeks ago. Where’s your head?” My head, Mr Dean Winchester sir is still trying to grasp the fact that you are a living, breathing, hunk of a man that is occupying the same space as me.

My mouth opened and closed like a brainless goldfish until I finally managed to word, “What the fuck?”

Dean looked taken aback. It was the type of face you’d give someone when they do something unexpected and I curse all the fucking time. This shouldn’t be surprising to him. Plus, he shouldn’t even know me in the first place!

“Where the fuck and what the fuck?” I sounded like a psychopath. Wording wasn’t going very well for me right now.

“Okay, let’s get you off the floor, and then we can talk about any brain damage you may or may not have gotten,” The next thing I knew, Dean’s firm arms were wrapped around my torso and my world expanded from just his face to… a storage closet room thing?

There were those old-looking boxes that looked like fake wood but were really plastic stacked all over the room on various shelves. Toward the edge of the floor-to-ceiling concrete room was an opening through the shelves that seemed to go into another room. In the center of the room we were in - I know, a lot to keep track of - there was a white-painted demon star thing. Dean sat me in the chair that was presumably moved from the middle of the demon star.

“What the hell is going on with you right now?” Dean was now crouched in front of my chair staring at me with half-worried eyes.

“Dean…” I started.

“Yes?”

“Where the flying fuck am I?” His half-worried expression went to full-blown worry in a split second.

“Does your head hurt?” He tried to feel the back of my skull but I quickly shifted away from him, “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like you don’t know where you are?”

“Because I don’t know where I am! I’m not stupid enough to think I’m actually in the bunker!”

Dean looked as confused as I felt, “Kid, you are in the bunker.”

“And you’re Dean Winchester,” I scoffed, “You may look like him, but that’s kinda impossible.”

I know I said it was impossible, but remember that superiority complex I mentioned earlier? It kept making this whole situation more believable the longer I sat here looking at what looked like Dean Winchester and made me think I was here to save the universe or some shit.

…look, man, I can’t help it!

“I’m getting Cas,” Dean huffed and turned to see the angel himself standing behind him. He let out an inhuman squawk of surprise that I wasn’t gonna let him forget before he reprimanded Castiel for probably the umteenth time for sneaking up on him.

“Dean,” Castiel said in his monotone voice, interrupting the hunter from his lecture, “Their energy is off.”

Dean quickly turned back to look at me before responding to Castiel, “What do you mean off?”

“It shifted. Like they’re like a whole different person.”

“May I interject?” I said… interjecting, “I don’t know who the fuck you knew before, but I am definitely not them. I’ve never met either of you in my entire life.”

“And they’re not a demon, Dean,” Castiel spoke up when he noticed Dean reaching for something - probably a knife - in his pocket. I owed Castiel one. I was not trying to get stabbed today.

“If they’re not a demon,” Dean stopped reaching for his weapon but was still tense, “Then what are they?”

Castiel and Dean both turned to me thinking I knew what the fuck was going on. I’m just as confused as you two!

“Well, my name is Jenny.”

“Don’t lie or I’ll be forced to look through your mind,” Castiel threatened.

“Maybe you should do that anyway,” Dean stated.

“No!” My voice cracked as I tried to keep my cool, “My real name is Casey. I’m a quirky 16-year-old from the barren land of the Quakers and I don’t mean any harm. I mean, look at me. Do you really believe I could do any harm?”

“They do have a point,” Dean said, “They’ve always been kinda skinny and noodly.”

His saying that made me look down at my body. I was wearing a plain red T-shirt with dark blue jeans and cringe-looking sneakers. I did look pretty skinny. My body - which was most definitely not this one - was more muscular than skinny. I also didn’t have hair scratching at my neck because I cut it when I was 13, but with this person's body, my hair was down to my shoulders. At least I was still my beautiful, golden brown skin tone.

“So… can I get up now or…?” I don’t know if it was a conscious thing or not, but Dean and Castiel had blocked my escape from my chair with their bodies. If I wanted to get up, I would have to push them, and I didn’t want to break the very thin layer of trust we had built up with my cooperation.

They seemed to have a whole conversation in their mind - maybe they did, I don’t know the extent of angel shit - before they eventually gave me space to stand.

I stood. Honestly, I thought I was going to fall over for some reason, but I didn’t. My new, skinny body did what it was told and stayed upright.

“Okay,” I smiled, “Where’s Sam?”

“How the hell do you know Sam? And how did you know my name?” Dean was still a bit suspicious of me. Telling him that he was part of a TV show I watched during COVID would probably make me sound crazy so I just went with:

“It’s a long story.”

Dean squinted his eyes at me as if he could actually see if I was telling the truth or not then, let out a huff, “Fine, come on. We’re going to the meeting room for a meeting.”

Oh boy.

AN: First chapter of my new series. Really excited to see how it goes! I have a bunch of chapters already written. I might post one every week. Hope you enjoyed!

#my oc stuff #supernatural #deanwinchtser #sam winchester #oc character #nonbinary #spn fanfic #spn fandom #spnfandom #superpowered oc #dean x castiel #castiel #teen!reader #dean winchester #samwinchester #alternate universe #poc!oc

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tiyasrocks · 1 year

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The Reveal (Part 1)

(This is my first post on Tumblr. I’ve been a silent reader for a long time and recently came across the #exolvo thing. I fell in love with the whole Elsa and Anna being in Hogwarts concept and couldn’t stop myself from writing)

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

THANK YOU

------------------------------------

“Elsa, wait !”

Elsa runs faster than she ever has, heels clicking against the floor in loud clanks but the sound gets eclipsed by the hammering of her heart. A cold sweat breaks out on her brow and her brain feels like it’s developing running cramp all over it. Her gloveless hand is clutched against her chest in a desperate attempt to stop her powers from breaking free.

Fear overrides any other emotions and it becomes impossible to try to exercise any control over her powers, frost spring out of her feet leaving an icy trail in her wake, as her weak legs take her to an unknown destination.

She doesn’t know where she is running to, or for how long, but when she does stop, she’s in the classroom at top of the astronomy tower. Elsa shuts the door behind her and clicks the lock into place as softly as she can.

The classroom is empty, barely lit by the few green torches burning. Finally alone, Elsa slides against the door and collapses onto the ground, pulling the collar of her robe over her hair, shaking and clutching her head.

She has failed yet again and now everyone knows she’s a monster. Including Anna. The deathly spikes she left behind were proof enough. She has seen the uncertainty flash across everyone’s eyes. The fear.

She has avoided Anna for eight years, neglected the pain in her sister’s eyes every time she ignored her, has trained herself to not feel, numb the longing she felt for Anna. And for what ? For her to mess up and lose control anyway.

“ Elsa talk to me….please. ”

“ Anna leave me alone ! ”

“ Yes ! That’s all you ever say to me. All you know is how to shut people out ! ”

“ Anna, enough. ”

“No! Why do you shut me out !? Why do you shut the world out !? What did I ever do to you !? ”

“I said…..ENOUGH !”

That’s all it has taken, a small slip of control, a small argument, and she has almost impaled her sister. Her sweet, loving sister, who has only ever wanted to spend time with her, whose heart is too big to give up on Elsa even after being splintered by her absent older sister time and again. But now Anna will realise why she can’t be around Elsa, specially after seeing how dangerous Elsa is.

Elsa’s heart breaks at the realisation.

But no. Monsters don’t have hearts.

Elsa shakily rises on her legs, her body trembles at the effort. She’s tired. Oh so very tired. Tired of pretending, tired of hiding this huge secret that has brought her to her knees with it’s weight, tired of ruining Anna’s life over and over again.

She strides towards the balcony, and comes to a halt just before the glass door. Elsa lets out a shuddering breath as her eyes focus on her faint reflection on the glass, the night sky outside filling up the black spaces like an overlapping painting.

Elsa has never hated herself more before.

Such a fake. A monster hidden behind a pretty face . Her blond hair tied into an impeccable bun as if it’d hide the mess she actually is. Someone who has caused only pain and suffering. Cursed. Someone who’s void of any feelings. Numb and Cold. Someone who can’t remember when she has truly been happy. Perfectly pitiful.

Frost covers the glass. Wind howls and roars and answers to Elsa’s grief with a terrifying vigour. Her normally cold skin feels icy as she folds her trembling arms around her stomach as the urge to throw up overcomes her. Her vision wavers like a television with poor signal. All the dark and green and blue makes her brain hurt and eyes scream in agony.

She lets out a feral scream and smashes the glass with her fist. It shatters and small pieces of it embeds into Elsa’s hands. Blood flows freely from a particularly large gash but she ignores it.

It hurts. It hurts so much.

Good.

Monsters deserve to be hurt.

Elsa continues to spiral into a mindless string of self loath. It feels like she is sucked into an unforgiving twister, going tighter and tighter as time passes. The air becomes harsh to breath and the wind’s holler impossible to bear for her ear. In her head, she hears her parents screaming at her, watches as ice shoots from her hands and hits Anna, exactly like that night seven years ago. It has been at the young age of eight that it has occurred to Elsa what consequences of having powers can be and the first time she has ever become afraid of herself. Now, the fear has grown into hatred towards her powers and herself.

Elsa begins to hastily untie her bun, blood from her hand sweeping into her hair. She is sweating all over and breathing heavily. Her blond hair falls over her shoulder in a messy French braid. Tear streaks run down her chin. She tries to rub them but a piece of glass stuck in her hand jabs her cheek. She doesn’t care.

She looks down and sees hundreds of her reflection on the shattered glasses staring back at her.

Her white hair is matted with beads of red on them, the dark circles under her eyes standing in sharp contrast against her pale skin. Blood covering the left side of her face from her bleeding cheek. Her eyes red and wide. It hit Elsa how easily she could be mistaken for a monster in this state. Or perhaps, seen for what she truly is.

She picks a rather big piece of glass with two fingers. It fells so balanced and lethal and…..right in her hand.

One slash. One slip and one mistake. The glass will go though that one point on her wrist and then she won’t have to fake anything ever again. She won’t have to pretend.

She will be free.

Anna will be free.

Just one slash. Just one. Jus-

Someone tries to open the door, finds it locked and knocks.

Elsa lets out a gasp and slowly back away, letting out a little cry as she steps on the shattered glass.

They try the door again upon hearing the voice. “Elsa, is that you ?”. It’s a female’s voice. Not Anna’s.

Elsa tries to slide the glasses out of her hands, but the blood has dried and now they are stuck, feeling heavy and brittle but still so right. She flicks her fingers and the bigger pieces fly across the room hitting the floor with a shatter. Elsa hears people leaping into action behind the door as they knock harder, begging for entrance. “Elsa ?”

She hears the muttering of a spell, and sees as the door slowly slides open. Panicking Elsa chokes, “No! Don’t enter please “

The door opens nonetheless. Harry and Hermione stands just outside the room staring intently at the scene before them. The blood on the floor, on her hands, in her hair…

Elsa can’t look at them. She is standing on a mess of broken glass, shaking and bloody. Her robe fluttering in the icy storm.

Harry and Hermione enter and from the corner of her eyes, Elsa can see they are breathing heavily and sweating. They have probably been searching for her.

Why bother ?

They are better off without her anyway.

Hermione covers her lower face with her hands, both from horror and to protect herself from the cold, staring through her fingertips as blood continues dripping onto Elsa’s robe.

Harry lets out a breath, “Elsa, What…why ?”

Elsa wants to laugh. Why indeed ? She doesn’t know, it might be because she’s finally lost it, or maybe because it is hurting so much and she can’t take it anymore, or maybe because the repressing of emotions has ultimately driven her mad.

She just wants it to end.

Elsa looks at them with such hollowness in her eyes that Harry’s breath hitches. She is white, her eyes unfocused, and she looks past them without any emotion in her expression as if nothing is grasping her vision.

Hermione softens her voice as best as she can, “Arendelle, it’s okay. We can talk. We understand”

Elsa sees red, “Understand ?” She snarls, the wind picks up in speed and strength, “No, you understand nothing. None of you do. You don’t know what it’s like to carry a secret so huge it tears you down. You’ve no idea what it feels to be different, to question every minute of the day ‘why me ?’”

Harry wants to deny her claim then and there. Cause, he knows. He knows what it’s like to be different, to question why him ? But, the Elsa standing before them is not the smart and stoic witch who kept her emotions locked in a box with no keys. No, this Elsa is beyond reasoning, not emotionless but so filled with emotions that it’s threatening to shatter her like the broken glass laid so menacingly on the ground.

“We don’t” Harry lies, “But, we can help. Let us help you please. Tell us what’s wrong ?”

Everything, Elsa thinks. All the spite she displayed only minutes ago vaporises, leaving behind someone who looks utterly tired and defeated. The howling wind comes to a jarring halt as snowflakes remain floating in the air. “……I only want to stop hurting”, she whispers.

“What hurts ? Your hand ? We can-”

“I hurt my sister” Elsa’s voice carries like a soft breeze around the room. She glares so intently at her hands as if they are the reason for every problem in her life.

Perhaps, they are.

“Elsa, she’ll understand” Harry says softly even though he has no idea if it’s true. But, Anna is the kindest person he’s met so she will understand, right ?

“No. She won’t. She shouldn’t. I just keep on hurting her. Anna will be so much happier without me”

Silence. So much silence and the silence of no one knowing anything and no one knowing what to do. The silence of pity and ‘you’re pathetic’ and ‘Anna deserves a better older sister’.

“Don’t !” Harry’s voice brings Elsa back to the present. She suddenly finds herself out in the roof under the night sky, realising just now that she has involuntarily walked backwards from them and is just few steps away from the edge.

Just few steps.

Elsa turns away.

She has tried so hard, so very hard to conceal her powers, her emotions. Neglected her sister even if it broke both their hearts. Stayed away from human contact even if her mind craved for it. Remained standing with an emotionless facade, when all she ever wanted was to join Anna in a family hug. So many sacrifices. So many sleepless nights. So much pain.

No more.

Just few steps and she can end it all.

Her legs move in their own accord and she vaguely hears Harry and Hermione yelling for her to stop. But, she’s so beyond caring. She needs to do this. End this nightmare she’s living. The nightmare she’s forced on Anna. It is a small price to pay. The last sacrifice. Elsa has failed in everything in her life but she won’t fail in her death. She will set Anna free.

“Just….take care of my sister”

With a last plea to look after her sister, Elsa jumps and vaguely feels something hit her….and then she’s falling, robe fluttering, and wind whistling past her ears. Soon the world goes into darkness and everything fades into ringing.

#exolvo #frozen #fanfiction #elsa #anna #harry potter #crossover #I've no idea wtf I'm doing #fanfic #angst #part 2 involves Anna

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growling · 14 days

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Bungo stray dogs but they're actually dogs. Sigma is a Borzoi

i could see that actually however- to me, as my third pet freak (the others being francis and mushi) i also see him as one of those tormented wolfdog hybrids with several behavioral issues and a certain misery and profound emptiness in their eyes neither able to belong as a pet nor in the wild. how fucked up would a borzoi and wolf hybrid be actually i don't want to find out

some other dogs as dogs: (i don't know many dog breeds in depth im not a very dog kind of guy)

Fukuzawa is a huge, retired & traumatized former military belgian malinois that is mostly apathetic to every other dog and sometimes stares out thoughtfully into space and lets out the world's longest sigh for no reason, but he REALLY loves cats. which are however mostly apathetic to him

Atsushi is not a dog he is a tiger!! NYAR!!!!!11!!1

Kyouka is a previously abused puppy that has lost the ability to feel safe around people after the horrors but with enough time and care you can help her recover her trust and joy and discover she actually prefers your cat over you

Akutagawa wants you to love him and he will turn to destructive behaviour if he ever thinks you're abandoning him again (going to work in the morning) he has brutally mauled every single mailman they sent out to your house until they just kinda stopped coming

Kajii is some sort of greyhound. Good lord. That is all

Jouno is a shiba inu that finds great amusement in the suffering of poor people but you don't know that because dogs don't talk about their feelings. has really passionate beef with the neighbourhood dog and it took like ten entire people to pull them off of each other once

Gin is not your dog she's somebody else's dog. doesn't really care about you

Mushitaro is that 1000000 fucking dollar expensive rare breed one of those fluffy nearly shaped like a perfect orb ankle-biter yappers with nothing behind its void-black eyes that's just shivering with hatred every waking second of it's life. the high maintenance as fuck kind that's gonna start screaming and pissing and tearing the paint off your walls and fucking dying if you don't give it exclusive pure $60,000 Acqua di Cristallo Tributo a Modigliani water to drink and a cleansing bubble saltwater bath every single day. he doesn't actually need those but he is trying to convince them that he does and it's working because the kind of owner who would get this kind of weird fucking dog is either one or the other A) utterly fucking spineless and lets the hellhound do whatever with zero training because it's small and thus its anger is meaningless and utterly harmless or B) has a blast treating it like shit and continuously annoying it on purpose because it's small and thus its anger is meaningless and incredibly hilarious so they can make tic tac videos of them saying their dog is a demon while its having it's third panic attack of the day in the corner. i got off track. anyway they had to stop taking him out on a leash whenever they wanted to get on a plane and carry him around in one of those dog backpacks because the airport falcons were constantly mistaking him for some sort of rodent

Ranpo is a border collie

Kunikida is a well-trained border collie

Lovecraft is a bedlington terrier because they look fucking terrifying I don't know if and how that's a living breathing creature we created do not fucking google it jesus christ

Kyuusaku is a pug because they're constantly in pain from just being alive

Fyodor is a very big rat that barks but occassionally says something very ominous in fluent russian when nobody is around. he can also read. he's like remy ratatouille but fucked up and evil

Chuuya would fit as a human that is just utterly in love with every single one of the above listed as he's (semi)canonically a crazy dog person. However if not, he could be an afghan hound with his luscious fucking locks

other dog enjoyers feel free to add on

#mine #ask #bungou stray dogs #i aint tagging all them #yomipost

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tobiasdrake · 3 months

Text

So what does the Money Sink actually do? Gonna find that out, and then it's time to use this demon crown.

Apparently we're going in, Plumber Style. Gonna be honest, I thought it was as simple as throwing Shards down a hole to watch them plink plank away. Apparently there's more to this.

Holy shit, this is the motherlode of Time Shards. Are you, like, melting them down to reforge them or something? Where did you find a Time Chunk this huge!?

...come to think of it, this might be... like, sustaining the Tower's timey-wimeyness. Or a byproduct of it. It makes sense that the Tower would be producing even more crystallized time loop fuckery than the regular time loop is.

To be fair, most people carrying out a massacre wouldn't think to check down the drain of the kitchen sink. Credit where it's due, that was smart thinking on your part.

Or it would have been if the drain hadn't clogged.

Were you born with the name Iron Hood and this was a serendipitous development in your life choices, or did you rebrand after joining the blue monks?

Come to think of it, that's a good question for Prophet and Shopkeeper too.

Honestly, I use them so frequently that I forget they aren't a standard ability of ninjutsu. I can't imagine life without them. Which is probably the highest praise possible for a piece of gear. Good work.

Fuck me, I spent all my Shards getting the Money Sink open. Goddammit. I wish I'd known Artificer had the Money Wrench sooner. I can't believe I wasted 3.5k on that stupid wrench when I could have wasted my Shards here instead!

...you don't mind if I start chipping away at your-- No, of course you mind. Okay. Fine. I'll be back.

More importantly, I have business to attend to.

This portal to our corrupted future requires an incredible demonic essence to open, according to Artificer. Just so happens I have here the, uh, spoils of conquest so to speak.

Let it stare. I know I'm gorgeous.

What the actual fuck....

Okay, the Dweller gook all over the place, I get that. And the colossal doom tentacles reaching into the sky. This is our world being devoured by a World Eater, I guess?

But there are people falling into the World Eater's maw. How? How are there still enough people alive in this world that they can be filtered in like fish flakes? Where are all of these victims coming from?

Appreciate it. I have a feeling there's not much in the way of help to be found here otherwise.

Not sure why the past of the corrupted future is empty space. I could understand the future of the corrupted future being empty space, since I'm pretty sure this whole planet's going to be gobbled up until there's nothing left but a void in the Sea of Stars where life once existed. But not sure why the past would be.

Oh, wow. I think Aephorul took it personally when Luana wanted to cut his head off and stress-test his immortality. He just threw the moon in the ocean in the other world. That is the kind of display that reeks of furious stress relief. He must have been chipping away at it for hours.

Honestly, this has been a surprisingly pleasant jaunt. In terms of mortal peril, this is probably the coziest expedition I've had since I became the Messenger.

Which, I suppose, makes a degree of sense. The world is already destroyed and in the process of being consumed. It's not like there's much use for deathtraps and soldiers here. Aephorul has other fish to fry.

Burble burble? Did I speak too soon? Is there a guard of some kind or--

...NO. I REFUSE.

FUCK ME IT'S THE WORLD EATER

I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACK

I WANNA GO HOME I DON'T WANNA BE HERE

YOU DON'T WANT TO EAT ME I TASTE LIKE STALE WOODCHIPS AND ARMPIT SWEAT

.....................................

#the messenger #drake plays the messenger

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shameonmeeguiltypleasure · 10 months

Text

Personal share: I just needed to vent this out to a void of some sort.

Nobody warns you about the 'literal' COST of Living you face once your born. I feel like my childhood was me being scammed into spending a bunch only to be later slapped in the face with the receipt and expected to pay it. "What?You can't pay it? Well let's make it a debt you owe me, now get to work bitch"

I'm sharing this here because honestly, I think if anyone I know and love in my real life were to hear me out they'd tell me what I already know "That's just Life".

With how sensitive i am right now, I'd break down into a sobbing mess and I can't afford that right now......

- Im on the verge of feeling numb again, like brittle and so ready to disappear.

-Im struggling to feel passion and feel stuck in an endless cycle of work, sleep, eat repeat.

- I feel empty and a constant thrum of nausea at everything I say, do or when I see my reflection.

-Ive tried buying my joy and short bursts of satisfaction but it always leaves my bank account empty and fades too quickly.

-I miss my parents, but I'm a adult now and they expect adult things from me. They don't have time for my mood swings because I'm "just too much"

-My sister is drained from work and I don't want to be an additional burden

-My best friend is preparing to fight for her new career and I don't even have my liscense to drive. (I have no idea why she still keeps me around when I'm so unambitious)

- My cousin has lost so much weight and im growing jealous of her confidence. (She's married and has 3kids!! I'm jealous that she's found someone she trusted to start a family with and I'm still a lonely sob)

-My brother is moving out to live with his long term gf and start his studies. (He has no loans thanks to my sis and I, Obvs doesn't respect or care for me as much as he does her. I deserve it honestly, but it still stings sometimes)

- I struggle to speak most days because I just don't think. I have anything worth saying. (But my job requires me to call ppl and I cant afford to lose this gig)

-I struggle to eat because I just can't find the balance between starving and overindulgence. (I love my body. But there are parts of me I feel I need to change because society or loved ones say I should)

-I struggle to socialise because I just don't share the same interest as those around me or my work colleagues. (Is this because I don't know who I am some days? Or because I just don't have the energy to be contradictory to somebody else's opinion?)

-Im constantly sick and feel guilty for taking days off and still getting sick leave pay. (My job caters to this!! It's in my contract so why can't my brain stop making everything feel like doomsday!?)

- I don't often make mistakes but when I do their huge and I feel immense shame and guilt everytime. I'd offer up my limb if it would make the bad feeling go away. (These are the moments I wish I could read minds, I just want to know what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it!? Is it actually ok or are you just saying that then talking shit bout me behind my back?)

Honestly..... I just don't think I value myself enough right now, I don't think Im seeing my worth and I desperately need to fix it before it becomes worse.

I've had this fight before and I won, I'm not doing it again.

I'm tired.

God am I tired.

Fuck.

If this doesn't ease up before my next one to one with my boss, I'll ask them to send me to therapy (work benefit is that'll be free)

#dont read #im just in a mood #feelings and gloom

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invisibleraven · 1 year

Note

Grocery shopping for the rarepair of your choice!

No matter how much Reggie scowls, it doesn't make the fridge any less empty than before, so he closes it with a sigh. Maybe some toast? But the bread is down to the heels, and he's hungry but not that desperate yet. Even the fruit bowl is void save a sad orange and a fairly brown banana.

"There's nothing to eat!" he whines to himself, turning when he hears chuckling from the doorway.

"Guess it's time to go grocery shopping then," Ray says with a smile. Rose is curled around him, and leans up to peck his cheek.

"I'll make up a list." She turns to Reggie then. "Anything you want tesoro?"

"I'm fine with anything," Reggie deflects. He still feels like a guest here some days, no wanting to take advantage of Ray and Rose's kindness in letting him stay. Sure, he's less broken then when they first brought him home, but this place still feels like theirs, and he doesn't want to push to the point that they tell him to go.

He's not sure where his place is anymore, really.

Ray and Rose exchange glances, talking without words in that way they've perfected due to their years together. "How about you come with us?" Ray proposes.

"That way you can show us what brands you like. Pick out some of your own snacks," Rose says. "Maybe then all my crackers won't disappear in a day." Her smile is teasing, but Reggie still feels a tiny burn of shame until she laughs and ruffles his hair. "I just need to buy more it seems."

"I-I've never been grocery shopping before," Reggie admits.

"Not even as a kid?" Ray asks.

"My mom wasn't the kind to bring me, she left me with the neighbours, or by myself when I was old enough," Reggie replies with a shrug.

"Well then you're definitely coming with us," Rose surmises. She finishes off the list and grabs her purse, tugging her boys towards the car. Reggie sits in the back, as always, but grins when Rose sings loudly along with the radio. He doesn't join in-it still hurts some days, music. But he's happy enough to let Rose's voice fill the car. Ray even joins in sometimes, as off key as he is, usually making up words to songs just to make them laugh.

The grocery store looks huge to Reggie as they enter it, and he clutches Rose's hand so as to not get lost. The air is filled with a thousand smells, and there's hundreds of kinds of foods as far as th eye can see. His stomach grumbles, and he wonders how good of an idea it was to come here hungry.

He is about to fill the cart with everything, but he stalls. He has no idea how much is left in his bank account right now-most of what he earned from old gigs went to buying new shirts for The Orpheum, or strings for his now long neglected bass. So far Ray and Rose haven't asked him to chip in for food or rent, or anything, and he worries his bottom lip. He doesn't know if he's ready for a job, to leave the security of their home yet.

"Alright, fruit first!" Ray declares, filling a bag with apples. He turns to Reggie. "I'm gonna get some pears, do you like pears?"

Reggie's mind is whirling. Does he like pears? Shit, has he ever eaten a pear? He can feel his chest heaving, and Rose's hand rubbing at his back, whispering soft niceties in Spanish. It takes a moment to calm, and he looks at them both with watery eyes, an apology on his lips.

"Shh, it's okay hun," Rose assures him. "Too much?"

"Bad brain moment," Reggie says quietly with a shake of his head. "I... don't think I like pears, no."

"How about peaches?" Ray asks, not calling attention to Reggie's now passed panic.

"I like those," he says with a weak smile, wiping at his eyes. "MeeMaw used to grow them back in Georgia, and it was always fun making them into pie with her."

"I'd love to try that, if you remember the recipe," Rose says.

Reggie grins, tapping his temple. "It's all right here."

"Well then I'll get lots of peaches then," Ray says, loading the bag. "How about you and Rose get the veggies and we'll go to the cereal aisle next?"

"Can we get Lucky Charms?" Reggie asks timidly.

Rose laughs and kisses his forehead. "We can get as many boxes as you want tesoro."

Reggie grins as walks hand in hand with her towards the carrots, feeling a whole lot better about the grocery store.

Especially when Rose buys him a cart load of sugary cereal and extra boxes of her favourite crackers for them to share.

Later, his stomach and the fridge full, Reggie looks around him, at his things in this place, and the two people who share their home, and their love with him-and he finally knows where he belongs. Right here, with them.

He's home.

#filled prompts #ficlet #ray/rose/reggie #julie and the phantoms

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skellagirl · 2 years

Note

Eyyy can I get your opinion? I’m trying to rewrite V Man where his main motivator ISNT being a creepy weirdo about milfs. But I don’t know how to make the lab accident his big vengeance thing when 1) he uses his powers to get what he wants and 2) it literally could be resolved by them talking like adults.

I'm not really very good at this kinda thing lol but uh! I think the biggest thing to keep in mind is that people aren't always rational! People are irrational and stupid a lot and we use our pain and trauma to justify our irrationality a lot too! We are creatures motivated by emotions, by our hearts, and sometimes 'talking like adults' is waaayyyy fucking harder than giving into the louder, stronger, and more influential part of ourselves that screams 'instead of that, maybe..... lash out? isolate self from the world? ghost everyone (pun unintended but appreciated)?'

like! speaking from my own experience, it's way easier for me to attempt to ignore any problems in my relationships rather than communicate maturely, even if attempting to ignore those problems just makes me resentful and bitter and angry

'talking like an adult' requires being honest, vulnerable, often means swallowing our pride, and sometimes means apologizing, and that's really really hard!!!! I fucking HATE swallowing my pride lol

but to stay on topic, those are also all things Vlad in particular is super duper shitty at

As far as shifting Vlad's motivation, I feel like it's still important to hold onto that feeling of being wronged in some way? I think because, like, being put through some pretty tremendous pain because of someone's (your best friend's) carelessness, and then they abandoned you afterwards, and they never apologized or even acknowledged they did anything wrong -- is soooo rich in potential imo, and a deep well to pull anger and resentment, both rational and irrational, from. And it runs so close to Vlad's canon motivations that it's not a jarringly huge jump that feels like it misses the entire point of his character (stares disdainfully at season 3 Vlad)

What does he want now? Does he want the Fentons to apologize? Does he want to kill them? Does he hate them? Does he want their acknowledgement and affection, does he miss them? Or does he not give two shits about them and really just wants to torture them and selfishly take everything they have in an attempt to cause them as much pain as they caused him? Is it some complex combination of all of the above? Talking like adults could solve everything, but that can't be what Vlad wants, because 1) he's a selfish bitchboy who'd rather walk over broken glass than be frank and vulnerable with his feelings and 2) then there's no conflict. So what does he want?

Also as far as him being able to 'use his powers to get what he wants', I'm honestly not sure why that's a problem lol. Are you concerned about the morality of him using his powers to get what he wants? He's a selfish bitchboy, let him be a selfish bitchboy. Or maybe concerned that being able to easily solve problems with his powers means there's less potential conflict? But that's obviously not the case even in canon, his power (and his wealth and his regular-person power and status as well) do very little to bring him any happiness -- one of Vlad's core flaws is that he attempts to fill The Empty Void in his life with wealth and power rather than genuine human connection, and having superpowers only makes that flaw worse.

or are you talking about him enjoying his powers even tho they came from the accident? Because if so why not lean into that paradox? Again, throw rationality out the window here lol, Vlad can definitely enjoy having and using his powers while also being incredibly resentful of their origin. Paradoxical/conflicting beliefs aren't unusual!

I'm probably missing something but I'm unsure what your specific hold-up is with regards to this point!

Sorry again that I'm not great at this sort of thing :,) I'm just not a super articulate person when it comes to untangling and describing my own thoughts. Hopefully I made sense and it was helpful at all!

Also I've turned into a super annoying simp for this fic lmao but @moipale's fic Like Pulling Teeth is a fucking INCREDIBLE example of shifting Vlad's motivation and I'd highly highly rec reading it if you want/need inspiration (plus it's just beautifully written, and maybe the most achingly yearning fic you'll read in a long while)!!!

#danny phantom #skella answers #anon

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jaimetheexplorer · 2 years

Text

I keep thinking about Kim's potential endgame and coming up short of options.

I think it's highly likely that nothing will come out of her confession, even if she's prosecuted for it by the DA. It seems like the dialogue with Cheryl was preparing us for that eventuality (and there's also the possibility that, if caught, Gene/Jimmy will lie and take the blame for it to save her - he can only be hanged once after all - although not sure how that would fit with the whole "I save me" theme in her story). So jail-time for Kim seems unlikely.

If nothing comes out of that confession, I cannot see Kim going back to her empty, miserable Florida life. That was the shell she imprisoned "Kim" in as self-punishment. The phone call cracked that shell and the real Kim started dripping out. So even if her confession leads nowhere in legal terms, I don't think it she'd be able to patch the shell back up, shove Kim back inside, resume the lie of a life she's been leading. I think that identity is burned like Gene is for Jimmy.

So where does that leave her? I keep thinking of the obvious parallels with Jesse and his Alaska ending. Is something like that in the cards for Kim? Putting her Florida life behind and rebuild for the third time somewhere else? Somehow, that feels off too to me. It feels repetitive both for BCS canon (while Florida was miserable, it's the same sort of scenario) and BB canon (would they really just re-do Jesse?). It feels like a cop-out because it doesn't give us an answer, but lets us headcanon whatever we want. It feels like Gene getting a new identity and running again, thinking "this time it will be different". But you know what they say about madness and doing the same thing over and over expecting different results.

And then I can't get over the fact that, unlike Jesse, who had love interests who were passing and fleeting (albeit intense), Kim's entire story has been interwoven with Jimmy's since before the show. That the latest episode made sure to emphasize that huge Jimmy-shaped void in every minute of her life. How painfully alone and empty she is now that she's surrounded by "friends", compared to when it was just her and Jimmy on their own little island. And I can't help but think that if she were to go off and rebuild, she would still carry that void with her. Maybe that's part of the bittersweetness of her redemption. A part of me can see them doing that because they don't shy away from painful realities. Jimmy is a part of her past that's never coming back and that's it. But would her have a Florida 2.0 where maybe her professional life gets more rewarding but her personal life remains hollow that much of a narrative change to end the series on?

One possibility I haven't seen considered is whether there might be another time-jump at the very end of the series. Or that we might skip through several years to show the aftermath or whatever goes down in the present timeline. Given that the entire series has been built upon timelines (the mailroom era, the BCS era, the BB era, the 2010 era), it isn't that far fetched to consider that there might be a final era. I have no idea what that might look like and I don't want to speculate too much so I don't get my hopes up*, but I wonder whether in that approach might lay the key to wrapping this story up in a satisfactory way.

ETA: A part of me can't help but wonder though if that version of Bob that's apparently coming on screen and looks nothing like we are used to might be future-timeline Jimmy.

#kim wexler #better call saul #bcs s6 #bcs spoilers

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leucoratia · 1 year

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For the OC meme! 15 and 27 for Yrsinne and H for YOU about them!

Aww thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to gush about my child <33

15: How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

After century after century of being told what to say and having to watch every word on their home planet, Yrsinne really stopped giving a shit. After their very, very long time floating in the void of space without any stimuli, silence is one of the only things that terrify them and to combat this they talk. A lot. Hence their words aren't really calculated most of the time, and they have the tendency of being brutally honest with most, so you really can't anticipate the next word that will come out of their mouths (except for Joseph hehe). Yrsinne is the type to comment on moss or randomly bring up "I heard you humans had a tradition where a big ol' man breaks into yar houses every cold to bring ya presents. Yar shitting me right?"

Although, since they are of regal blood and pretty much led a galactic revolution, in the right context they can be very calculative. You will piss your pants.

27: What causes them to feel dread?

I've explored this theme a bit before, but let me wrap you up. For leading an uprising for centuries to overturn their government (which is their own parents but that's another story) and putting the empire to shits, they were captured after having their allies wiped out and sent in exile in space. On Phovivis, community is a pivotal element of life (although it has to be "perfect", just like everything else), so eternal exile is the greatest dishonor and worst punishment, as they pride themselves in being a civilised specie that does not do bodily harm. Hence Yrsinne was put in a small spacecraft and trapped there, levitating in a fixed point in a pitch black machine with no light, no sound, no touch. They were sent to a deep, deep corner of space thought to be empty to spend the rest of eternity in torture (or get sucked into a black hole and die). Fortunately their aircraft fell into a wormhole that lead somewhere to our solar system and they fell to Earth. All of this to say that they spent centuries, maybe millenia feeling nothing, and they are terrified of anything that might resemble that again. Obviously they suffer from severe ptsd from this horrible experience, and dread the dark, the silence and the lack of stimulation. Although there always is something going on on Earth, being in a dimly lit room will make them uneasy; and not being able to talk or hear life will make them panic. Hard. Refrain from mentionning space and cosmic eternity around them, they might become unresponsive for some time. For everyone's safety, please provide Yrsinne with a nightlight and background music at night. It is not easy to console a 7'2 ft and more than 300 lbs alien hunk. Beware of the claws.

Appart from these triggers, they are quite fearless and love a new sensation. You could stab them and they may thank you for making them discover man made weapons. The best of the team to send exploring weird and unsafe places.

H)What trait do you admire most?

Their huge muscles and dashing charm

Their curiosity and sheer power of will. Yrsinne wants to learn everything there is, explore every place, learn every name and eat every food. They experience new things with extasy and a kind of childish innocence, holding no prejudice and no doubt towards themselves. Yrsinne is very social and makes friends and connections easily. They are a resilient person, although their tough and confident experience hides deep insecurity and self loathing, they'll never give up on something they set their mind to. I love that for them and would like to be able to experience things as they do. We both may be socially inept but they're cool enough that no one cares. Teach me your ways alien child

#thank you so much for the ask!! love to rant about them #yrsinne #my oc #headcanons #lu speaks

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hive-heart · 2 years

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Back to rant about my feelings in here because Twitter sucks ass, even if I just post to my close circle. Anyways I'm so tired of feeling powerless. I talk about it all the time and I still feel like this is such a hugely difficult thing to accept, but sometimes I just can't do anything no matter how hard I try.

I was 14 straight hours sitting at my desk pushing myself to write my essay. I only got up to prepare my brothers their meals and get a shower. I only managed to write one line. A single stupid useless embarrassing line.

I chose to study a book that interested me even outside of class, I picked a social issue that I'm very invested in, and I broke down my tasks as simple as I could. Used pomodoro timers, had my brother check up on me, had caffeine, alarms, left my cellphone away, blocked my browsers, kept hydrated, ate normally, put some nice uninterrupting music. No tactic I've ever developed or even found online pushed me to do it.

It was supossed to be delivered yesterday but all I could upload was my single line. A SINGLE LINE. I know a way to cheat around the deadline, so I got myself at least an extra day if I'm Lucky. But? What will I do? Write a second line? Come the fuck on. I have to send an email begging the professor to give me a chance to turn in late assignments so I can pass but, a second chance? a chance to disappoint him again? Just shoot me already, what's even the point, we know I'll fuck it up again

What is wrong with me. What is so fundamentally lacking in me that makes me so inhuman. I can't feel love or lust, I don't relate to any gender, my brain is incapable of managing itself, I lack basic empathy and social awareness. I dont even know if I really can feel my feelings, despite my burning anger and drowning sadness I'm still sitting here expressioneless and with no single tear in my eyes, as always. What the fuck do I even have? I'm kind sometimes? I do not know how anyone could bring themselves to like me, let alone love me. And yet! I do have friends! Thank god for that because it's the one good thing in my life, the one thing that makes me consider myself so lucky. But that just baffles and confuses me more, right? Like? What are you guys doing here? Welcome to the limbo and empty void that is my existence? There's snacks on the counter?

My biggest regret is how much I believed in the future. In the future I'll be fine. Tomorrow I'll finish my essay. Next week I'll finish all my remaining assignments flawlessly. Next month I'll be doing things I like. Next year I'll have access to meds and therapy. Next decade I'll have a job and a partner. Next century my existence will have mattered. Later. Later. Later. It is always sometime else. Never right now, today, in the present. Hope and luck and dreams they're all poison they're all betrayers, backstabbing assholes that I keep around because I'm DELUSIONAL.

I want my brain to shut off, to shut up, to stop making so much darn noise. I know I fuck up a lot, I feel bad about it, I don't need to constantly hear how much I hate myself for it and how much everyone else should hate me for it and how much you want to stop existing. I just want an out. Why did I get the stupid idiot brain disease. Why me I had so many dreams and so much potential. Everyone believes in me so much, but I know the truth, I know that I can't live up to any image we have of me. Yes we. I also believe in myself. Despite everything, beyond my sorrow I believe in me. But it just makes the pain so much worse. Why is this incurable. Why does it have the stupid name and reputation it has. Why can't I just snap out of it sometimes. Consistently Inconsistent. This is hell and I'm frozen in it. The silly billy kids disease for stupid weeny babies is going to be the end of me.

I won't survive. I'm not strong enough to keep going. I have not, despite what I would like everyone to believe, stopped caring. I care so so much about everything. My guilt and shame are like a snowball that grows bigger and bigger as it goes on rolling down the hill, and it becomes more and more destructive until it is just unstoppable. Even now my little essay fiasco is just an accumulation of how guilty I feel about small things I didn't do months ago. But hey lying comes as easily as breathing for me and so I gotta stay aloof and carefree in front of others, lest they think I'm not in control of how shitty I have been. Lest they think I'm horribly failing despite putting in effort, how embarrassing! How lowly! How undeserving of being here with us at this prestigious school for the special and gifted! Everyone is so darn skilled and smart and hardworking and beautiful and holy. I love them so much. But I also despise myself for it. What am I doing here, who let me in, why haven't I been thrown out like the trash that I am.

haha whatever right? Anyways, I have to go have nightmares about failing a single class that was basically failproof, toodles

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