to any americans who feel "paralyzed" and "dont know what to do" to help with gaza:
reading a fucking book. i beg of you.
in a time of knowledge suppression is it your duty to arm yourself with knowledge.
read about americas occupations in the middle east.
read about 9/11 from outside of america and see how they inflicted senseless harm and violence to countless amounts of people and have been suppressing your rights for the past 2 fucking decades.
read about any of the countless wars from the past 30 years. especially from a civilian's. and the victims and survivors' perspective. listen to the horror stories and do not plug your fucking ears as to what your country is doing.
and read about fucking gaza and palestine and keep up with what is happening no matter how "sad" or "uncountable" you might get.
dont look away from this.
you dont have the right to be comfortable during countless active genocides.
if you're knowledgeable, you're powerful, and our current state doesnt fucking want that.
you have the power to change things if you open your eyes and scream to the world.
wake the fuck up.
Edit: please check the reblogs there are readings and ways to help
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Hi!! I barely found your blog, and I love it to bits! Your ramblings are literally so funny and entertaining! (Live, Laugh, Love LaughingStock btw-) and while I love all your au's, I'm most excited about Lights Out! Angst is so good, and I'm certainly a goober who can appreciate it! Though, hearing all this talk of Frank being the poor fella who dies (that we know of at least) do you have a thought process on why him?? Or is that something you're not ready to share yet? (Agh, sorry, this got long!!)
i do indeed! i don't believe in killing characters without a real reason or impact - that's just lazy writing!
simple answer: he's been awake the longest (after Wally of course.) i'm making the black Goop™️ a more uh... Tangible thing for this au where my thought process is essentially: "the black sludge stuff is what kinda 'powers' the neighborhood - it's like water. essential for survival, but too much will kill you." and he got Too Much of it! he doesn't have a natural resistance to it like Wally does
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“Oof-” Ava slammed straight into the grass, sending plumes of dust up in her wake. Her muscles ached in protest as she dragged herself off the ground. Nope, not as young as she used to be. Reya’s realm had felt like centuries. To her, it literally had been, slowly aging her as she fought God herself to go back. What didn’t make sense though was Michael. Maybe he’d just taken the term “growth spurt” a bit too literally and just ran headfirst into adulthood. Nevermind that. Ava shook herself off, a jumble of emotions climbing up her throat at the sight of Cat’s Cradle. She was almost home.
The sisters were nice, but wholly unfamiliar. No Cam, no Lilith, not even Mother. And definitely no Bea. A trill of joy ran up her spine – maybe Bea had listened, and actually went to live her life. A spike of fear wedged even deeper at the same time – what if Bea didn’t want her in her life anymore? What if she had gone and done all these amazing things while Ava was stuck in another realm. What if Bea had outgrown her, like plenty of roommates had before, being adopted out or leaving for school and bigger things than Ava and witty banter.
She still had to try. Beatrice had left almost nothing. No phone number, no email, just a P.O. box in familiar writing, paper aged with the tendrils of time. Even then, Ava could see that the strokes were sure, certain, like the Bea she’s always known. But they were lighter too, the ends of her letters lifting up just a bit, like even she didn’t know exactly what was coming next.
So Ava thanked the sisters and rushed on out.
She didn’t move as fast as she used to anymore, even with the halo thrumming in her back. But she trudged along, feet drawing her closer and closer to her final destination. The sunrise broke over the horizon as she plowed up the mountains. Of course, Bea would go back to the one place they’d shared. Not Ava-the-Halo-Bearer and Sister Beatrice, but simply Ava and Bea.
The sun glowed against her cheeks and she felt like she was nineteen-just-turned-twenty again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she realised that this could all be gone. Bea’s, but not hers. Who wouldn’t love Beatrice? She probably had a whole new life, new family, new love, just conveniently in the same place they’d learned to love each other. She planted herself on a park bench, just across from the pool she’d spent almost every free second she’d had at, and the doubt wormed into her chest, shredding at her heart til she could barely breathe.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” A young voice drifted in in German, accompanied by someone settling on the bench next to her.
It took her a second to respond, “I’m fine, thanks!” The language felt odd on her tongue. Thirty years had passed, but her mouth still moved, falling into a routine that was natural, but a bit misshapen, like clearing the cobwebs of an old hangout.
The young man had looked straight through her, with a funky little mustache and mischievous eyes. Ava wasn’t quite sure why, but in seconds she was pouring out her life’s story to this random stranger. She could almost hear the music in the background, like she had done hundreds of times to Hans before.
“It’s been years, and I don’t even know if she’d wait for this long. It feels selfish to want it but–”
The boy stopped, glancing as another figure settled near the pool, “Sorry, my father sends me each morning to watch–”
Ava followed his line of sight and everything faded. Bea. Streaks of grey laid where the blond used to be. Hair still up in a bun, a few strands hanging loose and framing her face perfectly. Ava’s hand itched to tuck it back behind her ear. To trace the soft smile lines at the edge of her eyes. Good. All Ava had wanted was for Bea to be happy.
She couldn’t help but launch herself at Bea, Halo giving her a little boost. Bea’s head shot up at the movement, cycling from alarm to immediate recognition as Ava’s feet pounded against the grass. Bea shot to her feet, arms reaching forward, crashing together in a tangle of limbs.
“Ava?” Bea’s voice cracked, a slight tinge of disbelief, as she clutched at Ava’s spine, drawing them together as close as she could.
“Bea,” she whispered, gripping at anything she could. She buried her nose in the crook of Bea’s neck – she smelled exactly the same. A flood of relief washed down her muscles as Bea pressed her lips against the side of her head, tears dripping against Ava’s face and mixing with her own.
It took a few seconds of stunned relief, multitudes being said without any sound.
“You came home,” Bea sniffled, voice thick with emotion.
Ava drew back, hand gently tilting Bea’s chin, eyes searching for the truth she already knew. “I’m home.”
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I’m actually cooking up individual personalities for the sableye rn! I haven’t gotten down to the nitty-gritty of each individual, but they’ve all got names and a few have some details to help separate them from each other in terms of look. Here’s some notes for a teaser:
Jasper is a very intense character, despite being an incurable prankster who you’d expect to be more lighthearted. He takes pranks very seriously— they were his passion when the Dark Future was a thing, and now that whole mess is all wrapped up, they are his life. Do not spoil a prank he’s planning if you value your kneecaps.
Jet was pretty much a secretary for Dusknoir back in the Dark Future. Very organized, responsible, and obsessed with punctuality. He was the sableye who got distracted by Shinies the least, though that’s not to say he never saw a pretty piece of seaglass and jumped out of the time travel equivalent of a moving car. He has a notch in the base of his right ear-looking thingy.
Tourmaline (often just called Tourmi) is impatient and bossy, but means well. Fond of cooking, and uses way too many spices in his dishes. He just dumps an entire shaker of black pepper into a small pot of soup and calls it good.
Cinnabar just wants to spend all her time reading. The fact she’s got terrible insomnia is not a major inconvenience to her— it is a superpower. Everyone will turn in for the night and she’ll go “Okay time to start another 400 page novel!! I need to know what happens next!!”
Jade likes teasing her friends and making horrible Pinterest fail-looking crafts. Has a small gemstone beneath her left eye that resembles a beauty mark. Loves drama and gossip.
Smaragdus doesn’t understand anything that’s going on around him at any given point. A major ditz, a bit of a philosopher, very creative, and extremely confused by the types of humor his peers enjoy. He wears an earring as a memento from a dear friend. Loves fighting.
I can totally see Jet tagging along with Dusknoir to the Present, though he would need a steady stream of busywork to stay sane in such a peaceful environment! He’s very timid and would also struggle keenly to adapt to socializing in a non-post-apocalyptic scenario. He only ever really spoke to Dusknoir and the other sableye in the Dark Future, after all, and he’s known them for most of his life! I think he’d end up getting along really well with Chatot, once they both got over their individual rigidity enough to ask what the other person does for fun. (They both like cleaning and organization. They look at each other after answering in the same way and they both think to themselves, Oh my goodness it’s the only other sane person in the world. We’re going to have so much to complain about together.)
On a side note 83.33% of the group are memers and neither Dusknoir nor Smaragdus understand the majority of what comes out of their mouths.
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