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dyslexic-mess · 1 year

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So Tim comes home with a baby one day.

Obviously everyone's like o.o!!!!! O^o!!!! Baby!?!??!

Tim explains that he got cloned (happens to the best of us) and he couldn't just leave it and its a baby so he couldn't bring himself toooo...despose of it so he bought it home.

After his usual paranoid 'what if this is a ploy to destroy me' tirade and Tim's 'kons a clone and he's good', Bruce is actually pretty exited to have his first grandchild and everyone else dotes on there new nephew. New borns are difficult but Alfred is the biggest support and the kids host of aunty's and uncles are more than happy to baby sit when Tim needs a brake.

Plot twist.

As the kid grows he starts acting...weird. and not kid weird, just weird. His kainines are a little to sharp, his ears noticeably grow points, his eyes start glowing in the dark. Some of his nonsensical babbling starts to sound like a language, nothing anyone knows though, and Tims pretty sure he saw him float once. Obviously everyone's grown attached to the child and Tim's beside himself because what's going on with his son???

Then, one day, Tim runs into a man. He's got noticeably pointed ears and to sharp kainines and, from his place just behind the streetlights, his eyes seems to glow.

"Look...this is um. This is gonna be a little difficult."

He starts with and Tim blanches, hesitating but not moving. The man holds the back of his neck in an effort to self-sooth, braking eye contact for a moment. He trys again.

"A while ago someone tryed to clone me" a loud pause as a car thunders past. "I went to go and find them but when I got there, they where gone." his hand comes down from his neck to fiddle with his hoodie strings, deep blue eyes looking back at Tim. "I think" another pause, this one silent. "I think you have them, don't you?"

And Tim has his very worried suspicions confirmed. They had tested the baby to see if his DNA had been mixed with someone else's. There had been an indication it was but nothing solid and until the kid had started manifesting all there strange characteristics, Tim hadn't worried about it outside of the usual 3AM panicking.

The man explains that his name is Danny and he has a very...unique condition that certen people have been trying to replicate over the years. That they probably mixed his genes with a normal person's (Tim might have sniggered at that if he wasn't so scared shitless) in an attempt to make the clone more stable.

He apologises for getting him tangled up in this and says if Tim will just show him where the clone is, he'll get it out of his hair and take care of it. This is the point at which Tim puts his foot down. No one is getting his son 'out of his hair' and certnely not 'takeing care' of him.

Strangely enough, Danny seems relieved that Tim is so resolute about it, saying he's glad his son has been so well taken care of and assuring him that he has another clone who he loves alot.

They eventually figure the situation out with Danny explaining more about his 'condition' and even looking sad when Tim describes the boy and how grown he already is.

It turns into a really weird co parenting dynamic that gose through alot of growing pains.

#bek rambles about crap #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #tim drake #dp x dc #shit my brain spouts at 3am #this could be a dic but honestly Im tierd and only really have the vaugh outline #alot of potentiol for angst and intresting dynamics though #I think it could be a really rich story given the breathing space #Im seeing like #teen parents struggling to coperant #maybe Tims a little bitter Danny missed the newborn stage #maybe dannys a little bitter he did to #also romance potential #maybe #I cant decide if that would be one to many tiings #or perhaps just the perfect amount #lemme mull it over

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bonefall · 6 months

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Willowpelt sounds SO autistic, it not being funny wraps around into being funny again.

My secret is being so autistic and so surrounded by so many other autistic people that I forget what tismless people even do. Everyone in BB ends up getting a touch of ADHDautism. As a treat.

But yeah when I was jotting it down I realized it too. Like wow, I really hit this one with the autism beam. Me and you, Willy, we will both have adamantine opinions. I cannot condone your hatred of apples but you do have a good point about oak trees.

#Me and Willow are going to have the funniest relationship about those apples #Like wtf girl you haven't had good apples. No i wont force them on you but you're so wrong #It cant even be a texture thing if youre NOT weird about pears #What the hell kind of apples are you eating that are always a little bitter #Fennelposting #My partner has an inverse autism to mine #Which at one point we called dog and cat autism #Because im mr THEY ASKED FOR NO PICKLES #PREPARE FOR 30 MINUTES OF PICKLE RELATED INFODUMPING IN PENANCE #And theyre like If i accidentally make eye contact with a single person in the room i will run away to a monastary and breed pea plants #Which ngl i think would be the funniest way to write Whitewillow #Fire: white is the best choice for deputy! He's so wise and organized and knows exactly how to talk to people #White looks up from his detailed gamefaq guide on How To Win At Talking To Real People which he wrote himself #'I Would Be Honored Thank You.'#Hes organized because if anything is even slightly different he hears The Sirens go off in his brain lmao #Small says 'firestar is still cursed bc he was appointed after moonhigh. I dont respect his deputy either.'#Willow: 'you will join starclan in 7 days but ill make sure ur not late'

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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months

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Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead.

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this.

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs. Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair.

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?"

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs.

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles.

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him.

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That.

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to.

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly.

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor.

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step.

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's.

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before.

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray.

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further.

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs, "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of!

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons.

#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art.#me like two weeks later: hey guys :)#this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod #not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright???#but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling....#maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing!#anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE)#see this is why im not cut out for writing fic #its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts #if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5 #anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness.#well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage #but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future #but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning?#also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv #mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all #hmm now how does one go about tagging fic #vettonso #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #martian #sebmark #also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed #hahaha! it is art to me!:#catie.art.#boy king au

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crafting-mojo · 2 months

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why you looking at me with those big ol eyes

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sneez · 9 months

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my oc tervis hanging out with @silenthillmutual's chestnut and @shogoakuji's quail :-D they are looking for small beasties

[id: a coloured digital drawing of three people sitting in the grass. in the centre is an older person with receding grey hair and a sallow, gaunt face; they are wearing red and brown robes, and are holding something cupped in their hands. on their right is a child with brown skin, hair, and clothes who is crouching down and peering at the unseen thing in tervis's hands. on tervis's left another child is bending down to look; they have curly brown hair and a freckled brown face, and are wearing a red scarf, a greenish-grey sleeveless shirt, and patched trousers. all three are barefoot. end id.]

#artwork #tervis #pathologic #this is pathologic tervis btw. see previous tervis posts for further information about the tervis multiverse (multiterv. terviverse)#i need to sort out my tervis tag theres a bunch of tervis posts which arent tagged for some reason. dont like that #[thinks about friends' ocs] [exploads violently]#i love chestnut and quail so much ive been holding them in my brain with tervis for like two weeks (i have been drawing this for a while)#(i am slow)#tervis is a bitter bitchy unpleasant person to be around but youd better believe shes nice to kids. only people he respects #oh also harker i havent forgotten the asks you sent i am still thinking of my answers but i will write them very soon i love you #i love you too dj hi im waving i love you both [mwah] [mwah]

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thedemonscrawler · 1 year

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Desperation (Hope)

I have no excuses, @sinistershepherd / @bitterkarmaa wrote a non-canon oneshot for their Karma is Bitter series (which y’all should read) and then I got brainworms and wrote this in like 12 hours instead of working on chapter 10 yaaay -6am cheer-

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A stranger.

There is a stranger in the library.

A stranger who wears the face of his master, a face that Sun hasn’t seen in so, so long but still glimpses in the pristine polish of marble tile and in glass window panes overlooking a darkened kingdom because it is his own face, a pale reflection of something grander. This stranger is a reflection, too; burnt orange and charcoal, silvery scars and soldered rays boasting proudly of conflict survived and surpassed. A slender frame draped in clothes nicer than any Sun has ever worn.

One of his eyes is dark, blinded, while the glowing orange pupil in the other is barely more than a pinprick, reflecting alarm that nearly matches Sun’s own. He does not belong here, and he knows it.

“Don’t say. A word.”

The harsh rasp of the stranger’s voice, barely louder than a whisper, spurs Sun into action. The voice is even more familiar than the face, bored drawl sped up by a fear and urgency that he’s never heard before, yet it strikes deep into a lifetime of conditioning.

He sympathizes, he really, truly does– but the fear his master inspires outweighs any sympathy. The stranger realizes this too, launches himself forward to cover Sun’s mouth before he can make a sound. The servant immediately cringes back, going still, trying not to provoke– but the expected pain never comes, just the press of careless clawtips into his cheek from the force of the other’s panic.

“Sun? What did you find?”

That was the drawl he recognized; irritated, impatient. Dull and lifeless like the building around them, a promise of punishment lurking just under the surface. A battered hand twitches at his side, unsure if he should try to pry the hand from his mouth, but the stranger makes the decision for him by releasing his grip. Sun doesn’t question it, only whirls on his heel with the intent to get away, and almost immediately runs right into his master.

He doesn’t bother trying to catch himself, an action trained out of him after one too many books knocked from the shelves by his uncoordinated flailing. Get away is still thrumming in his circuits but his frame is frozen, pinned under his master’s bored disdain.

“I-I was surprised, sir! You h-have to understand, I-“ he begins, and the disdain sharpens into a glare that severs his words, cutting off his frantic babbling. His master’s attention shifts, moving off of his servant and onto the intruder, and Sun knows that’s as good of a dismissal as he’s going to get. He scrambles away without bothering to climb to his feet, yet knows that he’s actually about as safe as it’s possible for him to get.

His master has something far more interesting to torment right now.

Tucked down next to a nearby shelf where he can observe without drawing attention, Sun follows the exchange between god and mortal with curiosity smothered by dull resignation and the fear that being in his master’s presence always sparks. It is interesting only in how it brings a little variety to the otherwise unchanging days, and soon the stranger will become nothing more than a memory– until his master decides to rip it from his head. He cannot imagine that even a scrap of someone who wore his master’s face would be allowed to continue existing.

Especially not someone who was going to talk back. Sun’s hands clench, fingers digging thoughtlessly between the spines of identical books, and he doesn’t know if he should feel pity or fear or faded appreciation as the glint in the stranger’s eye shifts from utter terror to anger, injured pride apparently overriding sense.

The look of dark satisfaction on his master’s face is expected.

The glow that emanates from the center of the stranger’s chest isn’t.

Sun’s eyes widen. He stops trying to meld himself with the countless books that line the shelves, stops trying to make himself even smaller and less important, and raises up on his knees so that he can see better. Damaged rays scrape and catch as they try to move, an instinct that has yet to fade completely despite only bringing tears of pain to his eyes.

He recognizes that light.

A white-hot glow, branching out from the center of the stranger’s chest, snaking up his throat and face, crossing his darkened eye. Cracks that do not bleed, causing no pain that Sun can discern. The brands of something much greater than the vessel that bore it.

The star.

Sun sucks in a hissing breath, and his gaze cuts to his master’s face. He expects to see recognition as well, perhaps irritation or intrigue– and yet all that he can make out is confusion. His master peers at the machine in his too-tight grip as if the stranger was the volume of a book incorrectly shelved, nothing more.

Does he not recognize it, too? Was he so blinded by the light of his own star that he could not recognize its glow in another?

The crack of metal on metal makes him flinch, drawing Sun from his thoughts, and the servant watches as the stranger is hurled into a wall, hitting it with bone-jarring force. He winces, tucking himself back down against the books, hands brought up to clutch his own arms and pulling them tight to his frame in dull sympathy. He knows all too well how much his master’s ire can hurt.

Perhaps he’d been mistaken, perhaps he’d been wrong like he so often is wrong. Stupid, stupid, how could the stranger have a star? Of course his master hadn’t reacted, of course Sun had been wrong–

Scraping, claws against a solid surface. The stranger pushes himself to his feet, single pupil a furious ember, and he launches himself at the master of this world with deadly intent. They hit the floor together, hard enough to splinter wooden boards.

Sun… cannot recall ever seeing anyone attempt to challenge his master like this.

Something sparks; a tiny sliver digging into his core, frightening in its unfamiliarity. For a moment he fears that this is it, that he’s drawn his master’s ire one too many times and this is the first pinprick that heralds his unmaking, but grasping at his chest reveals no wounds, no new damage.

Sun’s eyes drift over the white-hot cracks twisting over the stranger’s dark frame, glowing faintly under fine clothes now torn and streaked with dust, and he inhales sharply as that light resonates with the feeling struggling to ignite in his otherwise empty chest.

Hope?

His battered hand twists in the fabric of his shirt, scratching roughly against the equally battered casing underneath. No, no, he dare not name this feeling something as fragile as hope. Any hope he had was crushed by his master's hand a long time ago, scraped out and discarded, leaving him hollow. All that he has now is fear and boredom and aching loneliness. Whatever this feeling is, it's not that.

The painful scrape as his rays try to move is barely acknowledged, and he grits his teeth on his permanently manic grin. Sun thinks about the hard glint in the stranger's single eye, fear and fury melting together. Something familiar, something he recognizes.

Desperation.

Sun has nothing to live for except the tired routine of life itself. A body of metal that rusts but never breaks, a mind of circuit boards and files that corrupt and fragment but never enough to stop him from functioning. He lives by his master’s hand, and he’s long since wearied of the leash that ties him to this world of empty halls and dusty volumes, lacking the strength or willpower to snap his bonds.

This stranger wearing a familiar face has the anger needed to fight back. This stranger has the power of the star needed to succeed.

When his master acts, an armored hand gripping his attacker by the back of his two-toned vest and tossing him aside as if he were nothing more than garbage, Sun is already scrambling to his feet. Too fast ventilations almost stop as he tracks the other’s trajectory, he does not hope he can only despair, please don’t take away the opportunity he has only just recognized. A heart he doesn’t have catches in his throat as golden claws reach out, snag the wooden banister, arresting the stranger’s fall.

Desperation, a last chance. If he does not seize it now it will slip through his shaking fingers, and he will have nothing but his own inaction to blame.

Sun has never moved so fast in his life.

The stranger’s claws slip and skitter, losing purchase on the polished wood just as Sun reaches him, reaches out to grasp a black and gold hand as tightly as he can. The weight nearly drags him over the side of the bridge, his shoulder screaming at the sudden abuse, but he digs in with grim determination, fighting back against gravity’s embrace.

He looks down, into a softly glowing pupil swimming in confusion, and the explanation spills breathlessly from him. “You have one.”

“What?”

It was a good thing that holding the stranger aloft requires him to engage nearly his whole frame, because it leaves almost nothing relaxed enough to flinch at the question in stereo. His master stands just a few feet away, and he can only imagine the expression that lurks on his face, the anger surely bubbling to the surface. Sun has been loyal for his entire life, a loyalty bought with fear and cruel conditioning, and this act of betrayal will not be well received.

A last chance, then. There will not be enough left of him for another, after this.

“You have one!” A response for the stranger only, twisted up with desperation and urgency as Sun pulls, trying to drag the other back up onto the bridge. He isn’t very strong, and the damage he’s incurred over the years has chipped away at his strength even further, but he can at least get the stranger far enough to pull himself up the rest of the way.

Confusion still reflects in the stranger’s– in Eclipse’s good eye, a confusion that isn’t dispelled when Sun presses a finger to his chest, to the center of that gentle white glow. He can feel unevenness to the casing underneath, a scar of hastily repaired metal.

He cannot understand how the stranger doesn’t realize what he’s talking about, how someone can be a vessel for such power and yet apparently unaware of its conspicuous marks, but they do not have time for lengthy explanations. His gaze flicks along shimmering cracks before returning to Eclipse’s eyes, one a burning amber, the other the barest hint of orange. “Use it.”

The tap of metal on wood, the click of metal against metal. Eclipse’s gaze refocuses over Sun’s shoulder, confusion replaced by wary anger. Out of time, they were out of time.

Sun does not know anything about this stranger that wears a familiar face, burnt orange and charcoal, silvery scars and gunmetal grey. He does not know what this Eclipse is like, if he is kind or if he is cruel. He knows that he could very well be trading one kind of hell for another.

But…

Eclipse had been afraid, as only those who still remembered what it was like to feel pain and loss could be afraid. The fear of a mortal who has trespassed against their will, the fear of someone who has suffered and would like to avoid more suffering.

Eclipse had been angry, fueled by his own fury and the gentle light of a star. Angry enough to pick a fight that he had no hope of winning, too proud to simply bow his head for the sake of his own life.

And with the god of this world bearing down on them both, Eclipse stands, steps forward to put himself between servant and master. An intent to protect, and it didn’t matter if it was motivated by pity or gratitude, only that Eclipse intended to bear the brunt of whatever punishment was coming.

So Sun tucks himself behind his savior, trembling hands clutching the soft fabric of a goldenrod sleeve. His damaged rays scrape and tug, trying to retract, and he buries a whimper of both pain and fear in Eclipse’s shoulder. He is not brave, he cannot bear to watch as death approaches.

Desperation and hope. Two emotions of such similar color, a gentle white glow that could either warm or scorch. In hands like Sun’s the power of the star would be useless, the servant lacking the willpower and the intent needed to take that final step.

However, Sun isn’t the one with the star.

“USE IT!”

#fanfiction #karma is bitter #i am pretty sure this might be longer than the original oneshot #because i have writes too much disease #OTL the bit about 'there is no way this is hope' sunk its teeth into my brain and would not let go #im sensing a pattern with my SAMS brainrot which is i have got to write it down in some fashion or it will not leave my head #Google Docs Exorcism #s!Sun thinks Clip is kind of a badass #fanfic

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lolliepops-rox · 1 year

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I will never get over the fact how incredibly isolated Dirk was. Literally the only living thing for MILES was fish & sea gulls. Half of the kids grew up without a guardian, but Jade had Bec, Roxy had the carapacians, Jake had the tinkerbulls (possibly other lusii?) and spoke fondly of his grandma before batterwitch killed her.

But Dirk had nothing. Dirk was so sick of being alone that he cloned himself, and then realised he STILL only had himself for company.

And let's not forget the fact he was attacked by drones regularly. That he was literally fighting for his life. That people talk about & draw Dave's scars. But dirk would be covered in them too. Both for them were forced to fight for their life on that damm roof top.

Dirk is so deeply unstable. To act calm and collected about killing yourself, then kissing your dead friends. That's not someone with a normal sense of self, a normal sense of life. After the game it would take Dirk decades to deal with everything wrong with him.

Bitter isolation and the constant looming threat of death does not make for one healthy man.

#im sorry i am always just so unwell about the fact dirk had nothing but the robots he built #dirk strider #if u disagr33 i kind do wanna hear ur thoughts #i fucking love meta #cw sui mention #from and outside perspective i f33l incredible sadness about dirk and how lonely he would of b33n #then the part of my brain that kins dirk turns on; then its just bitter self loathing #i think dirk is a tragic character but i could never love him; because i dont love myself; and dirk could never love himself; and im dirk #i could never explain how much i HATE that dirk is one of my major kins #there is something deeply with him(me)/me(him)#bwah bwah bwah heart players man -holds up meulin- i am so normal #homestuck #talking lollie

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hella1975 · 11 months

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something specifically shitty about IN THE MOMENT as the conversation is happening knowing you're in the wrong and you're being a cunt and continuing to do it anyway

#like yeah im being a bitch. im lashing out because of an insecurity. i dont know how else to be though #hiiii im dadposting again <3 i feel bad bc YES i have so so much bitterness towards my dad #but he is genuinely a nice man. like i had this thought the other night that he is such a good kind soft man. he just isn't a good father #and the tragedy is he COULD HAVE BEEN if he'd just SHOWED UP but he DIDNT and that's that im twenty childhood's gone #we're never getting those years back my brain has developed without a need for him and now im angry. whatever #but he's still good. he's still kind. so he'll do stuff to try help me and i just am so horrid about it #and i FEEL myself doing it i literally have a voice in my head going 'i know you've interpreted this as him condescending you #but you know that isn't the case so stop lashing out' and i literally CANT because id rather be angry than insecure #bc it all goes back to pride and shame with me EVERYTHING always does #like im so convinced my dad thinks im stupid and useless and can't do anything myself at my big age etc #which is why im SO hard on myself when shit goes wrong like not just bc of my dad like i have a general fleabagesque position in my family #of being the trainwreck one that fucks up all the time so when shit goes wrong (like my rent or my walls) it hits me 10x harder #than it logically should bc i can just FEEL my dad and sister going 'yeah well that's hella for you'#and my dad got the autistic ticky boxy numbers brain neurodivergence and i got the adhd scatterbrained neurodivergence #so for admin stuff he tries to PARENT me bc he's my DAD but i just completely reject it even though i KNOW he's not being mean #like he literally just said to me in his nervous as fuck voice bc he doesn't know how to talk to us #'remember to sort phone chargers out because the sockets are different in america' that's it. that's all he said. just looking out for me #tell me why i BARKED OUT 'i KNOW dad it's MY TRIP stop hounding me about things ive got it sorted'#in the SHITTIEST tone you ever heard. ugh i cant even be too angry at myself bc he has blame here too but it's a shitty feeling #to know i always have that propensity for cruelty even now. idk. im just thinking thoughts idkkkk hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii #hella goes home

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brightokyolights · 10 days

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#im like. really upset and bitter rn and probably will delete this later in embarrassment but i cant hold it in anymore #has anyone actually ever contacted these services to prevent... certain things. like just to chat someone and actually got genuine help #because my brain is. a horrendous place #and i tried phoning a mental health service years ago for nothing to come of it #and then i emailed this other service - just for someone to talk to. and again. nothing #i want help. but it feela like all the responsibility is put on you. and im so exhausted and already feel like i dont deserve any help so #pray tell why i would ever Go Out Of My Way to try find help?#even doing this little has taken so much from me.#i don't know what to do and i feel so alone.#this is something id usually put on my secret sideblog but im genuinely just so at a loss #right im posting this before i can think too hard about it #le text post

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frecklystars · 7 months

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i can't sleep and i am crying and thinking of ken ;-; i love him so much i miss him so much. i have needed him so much. i miss starscream even more and i hate that the entire TF universe was taken from me and ruined. but. i. im so glad i have barbie and ken i need them so fucking bad.

im so glad i have six and sebastian and officer k, and hopefully as time goes on i'll have a few more f/os from watching more of ryan and margot's movies. im so glad i have these other universes to hop around in for a little bit. my brain seriously just wouldnt attach to anything at all and it was killing me. i want to hope i can go back to TF one day but in the meantime, im so relieved i have ken. i love him so so so so much. it feels so good to think of f/os again every moment. it feels so much better to listen to music again, watch things again, draw things again. i'm still torn into fucking pieces every time i see starscream or see something that reminds me of bee or arcee or literally whoever. im fucking destroyed. but at least now when i fall i know barbie and ken are always gonna catch me

#delete later #vent #i guess #i saw starlight on my dash and sobbed my eyes out earlier #i want to take out my brain and shake it out and get my abuser's actions out of my head #i hate that an entire. franchise. an entire fucking franchise. is a trigger. what the fuck #im still. im still baffled i know ibring it up so often but god i dont get it #normally when i get new f/os i think about them meeting my other main f/os #and i try to think of starscream or bee or whatever TF character meeting barbie/ken too #but then it makes me ache and i have to stop #i think... stsc would be relieved that im finding some relief in another universe #instead of just floating around in the coldness of space. not being in any universe at all #or sitting in our meadow and shielding myself from him as if he were a monster. he can't bear that #me backing away from him and looking at him the same way he looks at a certain warlord #as if he'd ever hurt me. but he knows i can't help it i can't control it #so he's grateful i have barbie/ken but he's also bitter because it isn't fair #neither of us saw this coming #this love wasn't supposed to be temporary #i want to hope it still isn't #otherwise what was the goddamn point #im only going to be able to afford therapy for my ptsd once a month now #when i used to go weekly. i dont know what im gonna do #im so scared it wont get better. barbie/ken i dont know how long this hyperfixation will last #when i watch all of ryan/margot's movies then what am i gonna do?#i want to keep the hyperfixation going until i can get back to TF but what if i can never get back to TF again?#i cant go back to feeling so lost again. i still feel that way but at least it's... not as strong #but i can't fucking live without self shipping and i don't want to go back to having Nothing

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solcarow · 8 months

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they nerfed the opening scene so bad …..

#the art style is so pretty BUT AT WHAT COSSSSTTTTTTTTT #trying to get myself to continue sctir by rereading bits of the webtoon so i could visualize it better but now im just bitter about how #they tore this scene into shreds …….#the author rlly just dropped a nuclear bomb for its first chapter huh . i have not moved on from it At All #absolutely insane .#and its partly the reason why i cant even continue im just stuck on how good it was .. shaking my brain there’s more good scenes to #come why cant we just keep reading to get there #solar-talks

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tiredstressedemotionalmess · 2 months

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i really really hate that even after so many fucking years anytime i feel anxious or upset or really any negative emotion my gut instinct is still to pray

#like rn im worried im gonna get sick bc my little brother is and my dad's staring to feel sick too #and every time i think abt it gor more than a few seconds my brain is like “dear god please dont let me get sick” without me even telling #myself to think that and i just. i hate it all it does is send me further down the spiral of Thinking About It #and i hate it because thats what i was told would help for years and and i never fucking did #and im not trying to sound like a bitter edge lord or whatever the fuck i just. i dont know i just feel gross about it #maybe if i didnt thunk of it as praying it would help more. i dunno what it is but praying just sound so...#i dont know. i dont know i dont know #i just really cannyget sick right now and i am so fucking stressed and i hate that i feel like im talking to no one #but then again ive always been talking to no one so

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julesdap · 1 year

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mabel podcast: aurora silver is willing to wait || the consort || the letters, part two

#presented w/o context..... im so normal about this #mabel podcast #julestxt #mabel martin's voice acting of that line in the consort is literally rent free in my brain btw. like its so much #and the bitterness in the last one...... christ

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gontagokuhara · 4 months

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OKAY I FORGOR💀 TO MENTION THIS actually idk if I already said this but I LOVE the way you write kokichi? Like kokichi's jesterism clowncore energy is not talked about enough in this fandom, he's not just a lying troll, he can also be a corny little canned-bit filled jokester! He can be your angle! Or yuor devil! But he and Kaede give off such an "annoying little brother"/"exhausted oldest sister" vibe in pointy objects it never fails to make me laugh and also feel feelings!

Also ngl writing my lil (literally >2k) review gave me the energy to do my writing assignment so thank you for indirectly but also directly contributing to me not failing my class LMFAO

hi hello!! first of all thank u again for ur very sweet comments i keep rereading them . actively working on the next chapter and i reread them like an hour ago <3 also you are so me re: the writing thing literally i am writing this long ass response out as a warm up to getting started on the chapter again I SEE U. solidarity u got this class

as always below the cut because i like to yap (no spoilers butttttttt call it a small hint of what's to come next chapter)

ANYWAY !!! im glad people like that choice <3 his general silliness tends to get lost in canon in the midst of such a heavy fraught situation (where his dumbass is instigating fights constantly......) and so i feel it more natural to have it bleed into him in pointy objects you know? his backpack also offers just unreal opportunities for clownery and i can't help myself. i have issues with a lot of canon/fanon portrayals of kokichi so with him (as i do miu, and kiyo, and kaito, etc) i like to do the classic mogul move yoink & twist. i take character that needs fixer-uppering, mash 'em around like playdoh, and make them mostly the same but......better in my humble opinion. i feel like i do that pretty well with kokichi, and hearing those choices are appreciated makes me very happy <3

in that vein the kaede/kokichi dynamic is SOOOO important its one of my favorites ive worked into pointy objects i think. justice for my real protag kaede BUT her biting the dust so early both robbed canon content of what a friendship between them could look like. but it also gives me LOTS of room to pick up their barbie dolls and make them have good moments together. speaking of pointy objects canon, they arrived at camp within about a year of each other, before a lot of the other mainstay demigods began living there full time. gonta, miu, kaede, maki, and kokichi spent a lot of time as the only ones at camp; kids like kirumi/tenko/himiko/angie/kiyo are all summer-only, and full-timers ryoma, kaito, and kiibo came later (ages 14, 16, and within a few months of sonia giving them a soul [roughly the same stretch of time as ryoma's arrival], respectively).

all that lore TO say: kaede and kokichi grew up together in a lot of really important ways, and the dynamic that developed over the years very much is that exhausted older sister/exhausting little brother who are fiercely and kind of unexpectedly protective over one another. i could go on about all of the early full-time campers' dynamics because there's a lot within those five especially that i've like. developed in my brain? but havent fit into the 170k words 💀 the mind palace of spiderwebbing character relationships is very vast for how much has actually made it into the fic.....but wink wonk we WILL see a taste of it this next chapter

and finally, re edits: i did my one BIG edit fest back in may, and since then there haven't been any major changes. that said, i do reread the prior chapters quite often (checking details to make sure new writing doesn't have any discrepancies, getting myself back in the headspace to write shuuichi's voice, etc) and do occasionally find typos or phrasing or sentence flow i like changed, so i do fix those as i see them. that said, i DO know what you're talking about with chapter 3; that was a chapter i did pretty majorly redo in may, and there was definitely some redundant word use and odd sentence structure i went back and corrected. but i haven't made any changes that drastically alter the contents of the story; not more so than i did back in may, at least!

ok this as always got very long but it was as always very fun to answer!!!! thank you again for all your support MWAH MWAH and im sure we'll make contact again soon enough!!

#ask #bittercideristaken #pointy objects #ALSO.......when i think about you in my brain im split between calling you 'bitter' or 'cider' DO u have a preference <3

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