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itsnotjustgibberish · 2 months

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Wake up chat, Gibberish writing dropped!

Soul and Whole centric fic :] written with platonic intent for clarity

Warnings: General angst, unreality/depersonalization, mostly unhappy ending. Let me know if there’s anything else I should add; I’m not too experienced posting and tagging writing

^Can be read here, or below,

[…]

They always met at the beginning of the loops.

Soul knew the ‘Whole’ he met within the rainstorms wasn’t really Harmonia, or even fully real. Still, he would always take the time to sing their duets. It would always repeat the promise to revive Him. His hope would be renewed from the spring showers; hydrated so that it could hold on long enough to eventually blossom when the song regained its harmonies.

Whole was just a human being.

Soul had to remind himself of that. Over and over he reminded itself that Harmonia was not a god, not his god. He hated Soul’s reverence.

Except when he saw Him this time, it was difficult not to humble himself.

The voice of the silhouette always sounded familiar, even if He was rather blurry, but this meeting wasn’t during the beginning. Heart and Mind had already harmonized, and begun to work together. If anything, they might have already formed a Soulless-Harmonia.

So how could he come face-to-face with his Whole, now?

He had to be real. This wasn’t the beginning, he couldn’t be just a promise. He was a person, He was here. He was here with Soul. He was finally, truly meeting The Whole.

What the fuck.

The mechanisms behind his eyes began to spin out hundreds of different worries. Had it respected Him correctly? Would He be proud of The Soul’s work to reform? Would He be proud of Atlas himself..?

Soul felt his hands reach out to The Whole unthinkingly, but he did not fight it.

“{Whole?}” Despite the tone, it was no longer a question. His hands were solid against Soul’s. The touch was real. His body was real. Whole was real.

“Hello, Mr. Eclipse.”

“{How…}” He tore one hand away to cover his mouth as tears escaped his eyes. Whole squeezed the hand He still held for a moment, briefly attempting to offer comfort, before pulling His Soul into a hug instead.

“I don’t know.”

Soul leaned into the embrace, face pressing against His shoulder. The curls of His hair were an uncomfortable tickle as they brushed against him, but he could not care; it wasn’t an artificial feeling. Atlas clung on to His back, and the soft cloth of His shirt folded between his fingers. The pressure of His arms around it was like a weighted blanket keeping him free from harm. Whole did not have the same metallic coldness of Mind, nor the feverish scorching of Heart; He was a human being with a natural warmth, He was a real person. Whole was real.

Whole was real as He held the sobbing man, who’s hands shook as he clung on to Him tighter. Atlas’ nails would have drawn blood if the other’s clothes had been any thinner. Still, Whole refused to move away. Even as tears drenched His shirt, surely leaving some kind of stain, He stayed still as a comforting constant.

Suddenly yet hesitantly, Soul pulled his head away; his eyes were wide and terrified, as if he was worried the other might disappear when he let go. “{It took so fucking long for you to finally show up here. You haven’t always been able to, right?}” Soul sniffled. “{You haven’t– please tell me you haven’t left us forsaken intentionally–}” The words wobbled before splitting apart into another wave of sobs.

Atlas brought its eyes back up from the floor, tears blinked away. The terrifying thought of what His answer could be was replaced with a guilt worse than a thousand sliced nerves when its gaze met Whole’s; clouded with sadness.

“Do you think I would?” His voice lowered.

Soul felt all words leave him. He had upset Whole. They had only just met and he had already fucked up and hurt Him. What was wrong with him? What kind of vessel was he?

Whole silently hugged him again. Atlas let his arms fall to his sides; it didn’t deserve His comfort now. Of course He wouldn’t have meant to leave. He couldn’t have wanted to leave. Because what would that say about Soul? About all of them; that they were part of something so quick to push their own self away?

But He was here with him now as he cried until his head hurt. Whole eventually gave him an awkward pat on the head; which was met with Soul giggling through his sobs, wiping at his cheeks. He glanced up at the other to see him mirror the movement. Soul hadn’t noticed when Whole began crying, but there was something oddly comforting about seeing the tears on His face as well.

Whole backed away, eyes finally breaking from Soul’s to take in the room. Awe grew in The Whole’s face as He wandered around, with Atlas following right behind like a lost duckling. The impossible space of Soul’s bedroom was really the only structure in the psyche that hadn’t formed based around his house.

Harmonia looked back at Soul, and it seemed to set in that this was the place he had already spent hundreds of thousands of days in. Soul found the wonder charming, but the one wondering was not aware of that, and so he shifted his attention to avoid boring him.

“It’s rather dark in here, don’t you think?” He turned to the window, making his way over slow enough for The Eclipse to easily catch up if needed. Atlas watched a mix of sun and moon highlight His quintet-colored nails as Whole pressed the glass panes open, observing the clouds outside. “Perhaps we should cloudgaze? It’s certainly been a while.”

All the times he had spent laying beside ‘Whole’ to watch the rain clouds pass felt emptier now. It hurt, but maybe that was okay; he had the real Whole now, didn’t he? But the thought of watching the clouds together was terrifying. They would be tempting fate; disrespecting this current Parousia to return to a fake one. Soul reasoned with himself that the tears making another attempt at escape were just a remaining irritation of his eyes. It certainly could not be fear overtaking him again.

“Hey, Dawnlight,” Atlas nearly jumped as Harmonia’s hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s okay.”

“{What… What if somehow–}”

“It will be okay.”

“{But you appeared so quickly, what if you leave just as suddenly? How can I know you won’t get lost in the rain? How can I trust you not to abandon me again?}” He took a deep breath, and avoided His eyes for fear of having to see that pain-filled expression once more. “{I’m sorry, I don’t mean to blame you– you can’t be the one to blame for this– but I have never been this fucking terrified before.}”

“It may be partly cloudy, but the rains cannot reach us today.” He motioned outside, “Look at the clouds. They’re paler than a certain Akaryocyte, aren’t they?”

Soul couldn’t help but smile at the– probably unintentional– jab at Heart, and carefully crept up beside him. “{The clouds have no rain.}”

“The clouds have no rain.” He echoed.

“{You can’t get lost.}”

Whole patted his shoulder, again, rather awkwardly. “I’m here, aren’t I?"

“{You’re real, and you are here.}”

Soul guided the other through the patch where the roof turned to smog. After a short hike, the duo settled in a low altitude meadow of cloud; lying against the soft ground.

Whole hummed a tune that Soul quickly recognized; a zeroth track the trio had already sung. He grinned, looking up at all the variations in the puffs enclosing them from above.

“Isn’t it so very fascinating to see how the clouds will form differently from such simple changes in the environment?”

“{Yes.}”

“Do you have a favorite cloud?”

“{I’ve always found interstellar ones really lovely.}”

He raised an eyebrow. “Those aren’t the ones I meant, silly.”

“{You should’ve specified water molecules. I bet you’d hate to find out my favorite color is technically a value.}” He laughed, and paused. “{…Your favorite color is still pink, right?}”

“Yup.”

“{Do you dislike how we connect you to gold, then?}”

“Nah. I think it’s fun to see the symbolism you three have made. Besides, Atlas, don’t you think I would get sick of it if everything around me was constantly pink?”

Soul laughed again, and sat up. “{Fair enough.}”

He grabbed a clump of the cloud beneath him, and carefully began to shape it. Whole rolled onto His stomach, watching His third before looking back at the sky. Giggling to himself, Soul set the flower he had created atop His head, catching His eye before focusing on creating another. A few more flowers joined the first, as well as a sun and moon, before either of them broke the comfortable silence again.

“{What are you gonna say to Heart and Mind when you meet them?}” He asked.

Harmonia looked at him thoughtfully before eventually giving up on an answer with a shrug. He carefully sat up as to not let the clouds fall from his hair, and moved to sit beside Soul. It leaned against The Whole, and closed his eyes. His shoulder was solid and comfortable beneath his head, and so were the clouds holding them up.

“Soul?”

“{Hm?}”

“I’m not real.”

“{I…}” The vessel opened his eyes, trying to steady its breathing before looking at the void beside him.

“You know that, don’t you?”

“{…The lie was comforting.}”

“I know.”

Soul could barely see into His eyes anymore.

“You have to join them, Atlas.” The name once held so much tranquility, but now it felt like a toxin ripping apart each and every molecule of his being. The sweetness of it left a bitter aftertaste now; it was a horrid reminder that Soul could never be its own person to truly meet Whole. If the trio intertwined and formed Whole physically, Soul would no longer exist to see Him. If the trio became Whole by harmonizing and working together as individuals, the Harmonia he wanted so desperately to meet would never exist.

Soul would never meet Whole.

“{I can’t lose you.}”

”You won’t—“ Whole was cut off as the other yelled.

”{I know that! I know the three of us will form you again. I know you and I are intertwined; the real Whole was what we repaired along the way, or whatever cliché shit, but I can’t lose the presence here now. I can’t lose you!}”

Whether the wetness on his face was caused by tears or rain, Soul wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. It was already too late. It clutched its arms around himself, and sobbed harder when the only response was a cold zephyr carrying the smell of storms. He tried to dig his hands into the ground beneath him, desperately searching for something solid or something real, but the clouds only dissipated with the extra pressure. Soul brought its knees to his chest, and let his head fall forward as he cradled them.

Eventually he ran a sleeve across his face in a half-hearted attempt to clean it. Taking a heavy breath, Atlas looked back down at the empty space beside him, and forced his legs to stand and walk. The Eclipse spoke to the void one final time.

“{Stratocumulus.}” Was the only word to break the silence before he started the path back home to his other halves.

Soul would never meet Whole, but Harmonia was still waiting for him.

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dontpercievemeplease · 2 months

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It’s that time again!!!

Foxys Silly Writing has updated with chunk 15!!! The doc will be updated first, but the ao3 update is coming soon!

Also, Foxy has now written their version of The Shot, so enjoy :) (it will be on ao3 as well, but this is the only version currently live)

#chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #cj whole #foxy from the cjfs #Chonny Jash fanfic #Chonny Jash fic #cccc fanfic #the shot is so good #I’ve already read it and cried soo yeah #if that tells you anything

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starjash-prophecy · 1 month

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starjash's prophecy

ProLOL g: Dreaming of Tim Marine Reprise

{OOC!AN: I'm sorry}

"Wait no pls wait!" Heat mid said "Nuh uh" :(

...........

He stopped his snrkk mimimi and opened his eyes to wake up. Whole...... omg no.... SOUL was awake. Oh no

"{Oh no,.}" said Soul.

Soil woke up got out of bed. He grabbed his tridnt but then to tears on cheek. “{Heart grr}” He said to himself. Hirt a emotionm transferred to him. He hat it the tear s.

Soul wiped his eyes, a single tear shinin like Mr son. He lockd at teh mirror. Whole was died now, it were just Soil…. Or rather his full name that was Soul Un'wholy Regicide Atlas Jash. The mirrr showed his curl e red hare wif eyes appearing and leavin {That’s how he geted his name. Windows is the soul into the eyes} with purple and blue streaks an dark red tips that reached a little past hiss shoulders and devl horns between the curl and shadow void eyes with white glowing pupil and eyes shaped like semi cicle. I lot of people told him he look like Chonny Jash {OOC!AN: If you do not know who he is, I am so sorry that this is your introduction}

Yeah, he was split form Whole, but he wished he wasn’t cos he was very mentally ill.

He thinked bck to before {AN: the befor reference!?!?! XD} but his thoughts wa blurry. Thr last occurrens that had occured had been... stargazing?

Yse! Yes, that wasi it. Whole was stargazing, Heart Mind and Un'wholy were start gazing. Mnd and Heary!!! Their voices echod through the tally halls, sneaking under his door and into his ears. Thos voices were very very very angry. Sigh.

He tok one last lock at his reflection that was half shadw. His pants was simple enouf besids the many rips just black. His style shown throh his spiky fluffy jackt wif many patches and tears {somtimes rippin et his shirt was teh only car theseus he hade} and many colorful beads on his bracelets that go half up his arms. Tow moar of he braclets were spiked the left one were a different shades of blue and the right was different ourplez and they matched his spikey colour that was black becuas he could never get one in animal jam and it maked him feel powerless and poor. but now he was rich in spirits an accesories that were proved by his super cool red fingerless gloves and tally hall neklass and eerie and other face piercins but he only wore the ering, and everyfin els .

He locked away from the miror and loked at the door and walkd out. soul prayed to the stars in his head, and hopped that watevr excus of a diety wood make this round of cacophony easier

#starjash chapter #starjash canon #starjashs prophecy #my writing #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #chonny jash fanfic #chonny jash fic #chonny jash au #cj soul #cccc soul #the soul eclectic #the soul #AN:#so exited to finlly share this #hope u all enjoy #were being cringe but FREE #:D

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randaccidents · 2 months

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Plugging my first ever fanfic (both for this fandom and on ao3) over here! Come one come all I haunt someones voice in this fic.

#my writing #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #fanfic #chonny jash fanfic #ao3 #haunt his voice #hes got double voice in some songs HAUNT MINDS VOICE #also Heart and Mind are both assholes <3 #cant change my mind on that #cj mind #specifically mind pov fic #rand.writ

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hndellaaeartz · 1 year

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I got locked out of the classroom for 30 minutes

#kinda based on a fanfic 🧍🕺#chonny jash #cj soul #cj mind #cj heart #cccc #my art

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dontlookforme00 · 7 months

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Morrotober, Oct 3. Dream / Sleep. "Let me close my eyes."

[TW for insomnia, and a description of a panic attack, and loss.]

Morro was exhausted.

It was no surprise, it was nothing new. Morro could no longer remember a day he hadn't been exhausted, it was simply all he knew.

But such is the nature of exhaustion to be painfully aware of it, to have its ball and chain biting at your ankle, to have it linger just behind your eyes. Constant.

There was nothing to be done. Morro avoided thinking about it, because it wouldn't do him any good. Ghosts couldn't sleep, and that was that. This was the price he paid for being a part of the Pre-eminents plan, and though he knew it was worth it, he still cried inside for a reprieve. He cried out for a chance to relax his unfeeling body.

But it wasn't possible to relax a muscle if it was never really tensed. He couldn't escape it.

On and on the days had led, the months, the years. Moments in the Cursed Realm were never boring, something was always happening. Morro wondered how much longer he could go on. Surely, forever. His body was incapable of collapse, and some part of him hated that.

Though, every time he remembered why he was doing this, every time he heard the voice of the Pre-eminent and every time he felt her presence, he was invigorated. He would grin wildly and freely.

The apprehension and responsibility of his role was nothing short of his lifeblood.

It made him forget the spinning of exhaustion, and instead gave him purpose.

Sometimes, she'd go days without talking to him, without talking to any of the generals. Morro couldn't help but wonder what was so important as he found ways to fill his time. He'd train, he'd fight, he'd give orders and he'd sit and watch from the darkness. None of these ghosts were warriors yet, not like him. They were ordinary scum, who'd done things horrible enough in their lifetimes to end up here.

They were pathetic, and useless.

It was no wonder the Pre-eminent had chosen him. She was the only destiny that mattered now, anyways. Bigger plans than him were in motion.

And yet, she still left him in silence for weeks on end. The exhaustion would creep back up, forcing its way into the cracks of his being, blurring the edges of his vision. Planting aching into his bones. And he'd find himself sitting on the edge of his prison, trying so hard to not think about the way he couldn't feel his breaths, nor the hands he dug into his scalp, nor the way closing his eyes did nothing to dim the light.

He'd find himself remembering times from his life–in flashing memories, like on the reflection of a river– times like when Wu would tuck him into bed and he'd fall asleep slowly and carefully. With the weight of the blanket keeping him safe.

If only he'd cherished those days more, if only he'd known how much harder things would get.

Morro was driving himself insane.

He kept trying to imagine he was that child again, on the bed, so sure and so confident, and so readily falling asleep. But no matter how hard he pretended, the Cursed Realm had tainted his mind.

Closing his eyes did nothing. He could still see the murky green of the floor he sat on, wisps of grey trailing past his feet. He tensed harder, curling in on himself and clenching his jaw. Morro pressed his palms against his eyes to no avail.

It wasn't fair! He wanted nothing more truly than to be able to close his fucking eyes! Why couldn't the Pre-eminent grant him this one wish? Was he so unworthy? When would this hell pay off?

When would he be free-? He shoved the thought away as soon as it spoke, but its message lingered. He reminded himself that as long as he served his Mistress, he was freer than he had ever been with Wu. That, he knew.

Although, he could admit to himself that he would sell his soul a second time just to be able to experience the unchallenged calm of slumber.

Was he shaking? Was that possible?

He couldn't panic. He wouldn't panic. He wouldn't think of the fact that he had no way of knowing how much longer he'd have to live like this. Wouldn't think about the fact that he could be stuck in here for decades more–

He was definitely shaking. He tightened his grip on the roots of his hair, now having curled in on himself completely. Nobody could see his face, and it was a damn good thing. Because he was sure that he looked as insane as he felt.

"Let me close my eyes." The growl came out high-pitched, pained, yet desolate nonetheless. He didn't know why he let it escape. He didn't know who he was begging to. It wasn't like anybody could hear him.

Morro grit his teeth and swore, trying to gather himself back. But he couldn't seem to untangle his arms, couldn't seem to untense his tremoring limbs. He was falling apart. "Please." He whined. "Let me close my eyes. Let me close my eyes. Let me close my eyes, oh my fucking-.." The tearless sobs became more erratic as he truly comprehended that there was noone there to listen. Nor care.

Morro could still hear the endless cacophony of screeching in the cages, and he couldn't help but think that despite all his power, he was just as imprisoned as the ones in chains.

"Morro?" A haunting voice, rasped by screams. It was Bansha.

Morro jumped, falling back. He sprung back and covered his face with his hands before he could even look at her. He tried to muffle his panting.

Their silence was taut in the air.

Fuck. Bansha? Of all people? The only fucking one with enough authority to snitch on him? To really make this all for nothing?

All Morro could do was pray that the jealous bitch had enough self decency to pretend she'd never seen anything. His hands were still trembling, like a child, like a fucking child. And he could still see the ghostly green of Banshas presence reflecting off the ground, even if he wasn't facing her.

He knew he was supposed to say something. He knew he was the loud one, the cocky general, the ecstatic child, the threat. He was the arrogant one. He was supposed to talk.

But his tongue failed him, for once in his life. At the very worst time.

Even though she still stood there, he could feel the panic wash over him yet again, the lack of sleep, the hopelessness, the unsettling sense of being caged. He needed to leave this conversation, before something horrible happened.

Morro shifted so that his line of vision peeked through the fallen strands of his hair, he saw Bansha.

She was, as usual, almost entirely unreadable. The mask, and hood, and all the tattered robes that she'd been Cursed with served her well here. Her spectral eyes glinted as she narrowed them, slowly looking over Morro. Morro prepared to leap up and shove past her, but then she spoke again, in that same, crackling voice. "Are you…"

He tensed as a thousand possible endings to that sentence ran through his head. Are you crying? Are you really so weak? Are you really so pathetic?

"...okay?"

Morro felt himself freeze. He sat there for a good few seconds. Then, he looked up at her, not caring to swipe the hair out of his eyes.

They looked at eachother, and he still couldn't read her. He knew she was probably tricking him, but the initial shock was still affecting him.

Something in the air began to shift, he could've sworn that he could feel as he shrunk in his clothes, became nothing but a weeping little boy on the side of a street. As some impossibly tall, unimaginably wise adult stood over him.

He didn't like it.

Morro shot to his feet, shoving his face up to hers, forcing her to take a few paces back, as he stole them off her. "What did you just say to me?" He challenged, desperate to destroy this power imbalance that he'd imagined himself.

Her eyes didn't change, simply cautiously searched his. "Morro, please."

He was still shaking. He was still tired. Snapping at her didn't take the bite off his creeping, seeping, sickly fatigue.

Bansha must've watched the exhaustion creep back into the depths of his eyes, as he fought to keep up his violent facade. Slowly, he stood down. Her face did not change once.

Morro turned away, not daring to give away any more than he needed to. "Morro.." her wailing voice was low, like the scratching of a cat at a door. There was something familiar about it. Morro didn't know why she wasn't ridiculing him.

"I know we're not friends. I know we never will be. But I can promise you that we'll both make it out of here."

Morro was still.

He didn't understand. He wiped away some imagined itch on his face, eyes darting back and forth between Bansha and the ground.

Was she… speaking badly against the Pre-eminent? More importantly, was she trying to comfort him? Bansha? He was so aware of how his breaths passed through him. He was still shaking. He was still not asleep. But maybe… maybe she was right.

If she believed they could get out of here, maybe it was true. An opinion outside of his warped, delusional perception seemed endlessly more plausible.

Morro watched the mist hiss past him, faint wailings of agony echoed through the walls.

And he nodded. He didn't look, but he knew Bansha saw.

Even if he didn't believe it, maybe he could just cling on. Cling on to the promise that he wouldn't be condemned here forever. Maybe, deep down, he needed that reason to keep going.

Morro looked up at Bansha, feeling strangely thankful that he couldn't cry anymore. He stared up at her, where she looked right back at him. And they both understood that they had to survive a little longer.

------○------

[Timeskip, to a revived morro au.]

Morro jolted awake, calming his breathing within seconds. He'd been dreaming, some sort of nightmare. Nothing he could recall.

He was sat on a sofa, the room in complete darkness apart from the stark, flashing lights of the television in front. Its rays seemed to bounce off every corner of the room, back and forth and back and forth. He could barely make out what was even going on.

Morro groaned, and lifted up a hand to block out the light from his eyes. That was when he realised that Lloyd was asleep, leaning his head on Morro.

Morro managed to suppress his instinct to throw the boy off, and instead made himself relax. He wouldn't be the one to wake Lloyd.

How the hell had anybody fallen asleep with this thing on, anyways? Morro grabbed a remote, carefully, and turned it off after mashing a few buttons. The darkness afterwards was so plain that it was relieving. Silence rang in his ears, but he didn't quite mind.

Morro leaned his head back against the sofa, trying to remember what nightmare had been so bad that it had woken him.

Lloyd's breathing was slow, and low. His warmth unsettled Morro.

That position couldn't be comfortable for Lloyd's neck. Morro found himself worrying– no, that was stupid– Morro found himself wondering. Wondering about whether or not Lloyd would appreciate a blanket.

Ah, fuck it. He grabbed one from the opposite side of the sofa, and draped it over Lloyd. Then stilled again.

…Bansha. She'd been there, in his dream. He was almost certain of it.

Morro didn't like to think of Bansha, for obvious reasons. She reminded him too much of far too many bad things, despite the fact that she might've been the only alright thing in the entire Cursed Realm. Sometimes.

He couldn't help himself. Morro found himself thinking back to any times they'd talked. He'd been forgetting things like that recently, and he wanted to preserve her memory. Because despite all that she did, she was the only one who comforted him— wasn't she? Even though he definitely didn't deserve it at the time, the little shit that he'd been, she was the only one who saw past his exterior and cared.

Morro weeped internally for every day that his younger self had spent in that hell. He wished he could've gotten those days back, he wished he could've spent them growing up instead.

He remembered something she'd said, a long, long time ago. She'd promised that they'd both make it out alright, no matter what.

Morro stared into the dark of the room, his mind slow, and wandering. Reminiscent. Melancholy.

Well, look at him now. Falling asleep watching shows with the chosen one he'd sworn to destroy. In a normal living room, with normal furniture around them, warm air in his lungs.

And he knew he was safe here.

It was a bittersweet thought. After all that, her promise had come half true. He'd never really believed it.

Morro wished he knew what had happened to Bansha. He wished he could help her the way that the ninja has eventually saved him. He wished he could repay the favour. It seemed unfair that he was alright, and she was lost.

Maybe that debt would never be repaid. He'd probably never know. But maybe he owed his life now to her, and she'd never even know. That thought made him smile.

And so, comforted by the mere thought of what had been but a scrap of kindness in the dark, Morro closed his eyes.

He slept for every night that he had spent painfully awake, and for every night that those he left behind would miss.

#whoaaaa HEY I MAY BE 5 MINUTES OVERTIME BUT IDC.#ninjago #lego ninjago #morro ninjago #ninjago morro #morro #my writing #ninjago fanfic #ninjago fanfiction #morrotober #morrotober 2023 #oct 3 #NO I. DID NOT BETA READ THIS WE DIE LIKE MORRO !!!#also did anyone catch the short chonny jash reference cough

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avicryptidbard · 1 year

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Wrote my first little cccc fic for my best friend who wanted a mind-centric hurt fic, and I said there’s literally no sickfics for HMS, which is a crime because they all have chronic illnesses (you can argue with the wall /lh), so I took it upon myself to write one

Hope you enjoy it, I’ll be writing a lot more cccc fics and posting them soon :D

#chonny jash #cj mind #cj heart #cj soul #chonnys charming chaos compendium #the mind electric #cccc fanfic #definitely projected a little in this one but it’s fine #if I have to suffer so does mind

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pathos-p · 3 months

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Ineluctabilis; From which there is no escape. Insurmountable.

Fic for my Ineluctabilis CCCC AU. Mind the TWs/tags, it's a heavier AU

#chonny jash #chonny's charming chaos compendium #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cccc #heart chonny jash #mind chonny jash #soul chonny jash #whole chonny jash #the mind electric #the heart acoustic #the soul eclectic #my art #ineluctabilis #cccc au #chonnyjash #cccc fanfic #cccc fic

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zibbyyss · 7 months

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sooo since evil hall is dead I’ve been craving evil hall content so I read the good fanfics and no matter how far I go CHONNY JASH WILL ALWAYS FUCKING FOLLOW MEEEEEFMTNDGJINHFJ

#tally hall #chonny jash #evil hall #Can we please have more good fanfics in this fandom #like there’s only two good ones #the rest are just…well it’s Ao3 what do you expect

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spicasystem · 29 days

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Heeeyyy I know we haven't been active for a bit but we're back with more Chonny Jash stuff!

This chapters mainly abt Whole/CJ, with a mention of Soul at the end!!

#cccc #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #cj heart #cj mind #chonny jash #hms #fanfic #my writing #cj whole

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dontpercievemeplease · 1 month

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do you know if foxy has a tumblr or discord? my friend and i have been reading silly writings with silly guys together (we finished chunk 7 and also the uh oh gun time fic!!)

he's working on some fanart (maybe i'll draw some too who knows) and we were wondering if we could send it to them (if they'd like to see it :3)

Hi!!! Foxy does have a discord! If you do post it on tumblr and I would be tagged or if I happen upon it like many of the fanart I’ve found, I would have immediately sent it to her!

However, for those who don’t know, Foxy started a thread in the CJFS!!! It’s the same name as the fic and you’d be able to talk to her in there! Hope that helps :D

#chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash fic #chonny jash fanfic #foxys writing #foxy from the cjfs #silly writing with silly guys

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jaguz123 · 1 month

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Thermodynamic Lawyer

aka: a chonny jash fanfic

yes ! hello ! idk if this is how it works really , but i've decided to cross post stuff onto here as a test i guess

... will release new parts, hopefully i can figure out how to navigate tumblr in the meantime

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They stood there. Almost seamlessly. They fit into the image so well, as if they were meant to be there. But they were pasted there like patchwork- glue and shreds of paper stuck to their edges ruining their view. Freud had underestimated the power that they held, grimy fingers reaching for any ounce of influence over his sovereignty, hissing and clawing at each other.

He watched the advisors in action with a gloomy look in his eye. They threw everything they could at each other. They screamed obscenities, they slammed each other's skull in the wall… And Soul laid there, staring. He could do nothing but glare at them and their profane forms. He couldn't tell if his head was in the clouds or if it was six feet underground- fiberglass fanned across his skin, cotton in his ears. He was resting, watching as they fought, far too tired to bring out his trident.

He could offer the usual assurances. Tell them that they were the same. He could stand like that, better than them, but they looked at him as if they knew something he didn't.

Always and forever, he thought. Better. Superior.

Yes, he watched the Avian screech and sob as the Automaton ripped into his flesh with an almost guilty look in his gaze. Unwilling to indulge in his anger, and yet he committed the integral act anyway. To commit the atrocity wasn’t what was bad- it was to give into the emotion that oversees it. Mind was filthy nonetheless. Heart was soaked in the core-rotting metaphor synonymous for the trivialities of suffering that- meaning something important maybe in some other world- he had forgotten the name of. It was likely an overused proverb. Decayed trite and worthless, frayed at the edges by its repeated utterances. Paper can only stand the test of time for so long.

Soul thought, The first law of thermodynamics states… That if 2 systems are in equilibrium with a third system,-

The Weeping Angel struck the machine in front of him with a harsh cry, wings flaring, screaming in agony, “Your fault! Your fault, you knew it, you know it! You- god, I missed! I wish I hadn’t of missed!”

-then they are thus in equilibrium with each other. It is common sense. He lightly coughed into his palm. He watched with dying interest. His body still felt exhausted. So did he. The only difference between him and his weighted body was the fact that one listened to what he wanted, the other completely disregarded it. Guess which was which.

“Alright,” He sighed, finally at least somewhat fulfilled with his rest, tired of their bickering- “uh… Now, if I must-” grappling for his line… What did he always say here again? “You two are one in the same… Why do you always fight?” He drew out the last sentence, begging the clock to stop ticking, wailing for the bird to stop its call. Asking so kindly for the ruler to stop his parade. Not a soul in that room would listen.

Again, they looked at him with that snobbish look of theirs. They looked tired of that bullshit of his- maybe they were just blind to their own- looking at him as if he were a child fresh from the womb. He would crawl his way back up their expectations again maybe, perhaps he’d drag his broken body up the bell curve and label himself the average- average life expectancy, of course, if he wanted to hang by the rope then they all would.

“Are you… Blind, or something? I’m fighting for your case.” He was a thermodynamic lawyer of sorts- oh, that sounded familiar. Where’d he hear that from? Whatever. It didn’t matter. The sentence wasn’t that grand anyway.

It appeared as though they had finally separated from their quarrel- they had found their bodies, but not their eyes. Pathos might finally come together with Logos to rise against the hypocrisy of Ethos, discreditable sources and quotes from lawyers of the past, the one who had held himself in contempt- and the third-eyed joke of a man.

(nothing against will wood btw this is just for the story)

“And… What do you think you hold against us? A noose?” Heart hissed at him, before turning around and stomping away. Mind stood rooted there like a dead tree managing to stand the weathering of lifeless bark, tolerating every force pushed against it even in its death.

“Do you propose we sit down and have a chat?” Soul asked. He ignored how the canvas in front of him was blank. He disregarded how the clock struck twelve, pushing the ticking out of his thoughts as if it had a lack of relevance. Really, it was the most important thing he could hear at the moment. He was aware of the glare shot at him. He wouldn’t turn his back on a fucking knife, so he kept gazing at the machine-like creature in front of him. Shame he couldn’t grow a face on the back of his head to keep an eye on the mirror behind him.

“No, no- I don’t suppose I do. Just a word would be fitting.” That look. That pathetic look. It was almost pitiful, the look you’d offer an overly optimistic child that still thought the world was sunshine and rainbows and friendship bracelets at school, ketchup stains on your shirt and your hands filled with scribbles of marker.

“Oh-” The talk would be long. Or at least agonizing. Coming from the man who had glared at himself through the glass, he knew what to expect from that attitude. To expect anything more was to expect the faceless author trying to fill some self-set quota to come up with her own clever lines, desperately scratching the surface of such demands to figure out how she even saw herself at that point.

At best, the reflection was blurred, the outcome hazy- he might slip out of this with only one or two bruises to his identity. He could try to get the superego under control, but the rider of the horse was only as strong as he willed himself to be. The mount could rear him off easily.

“You don't know yet. You truly have no idea. Of course, nothing new from the man that copes by making Tally Hall covers-" He paused for the presumed effect, “-you really are just this brand new breed of pathetic that I don't even know what to name you as.”

Soul started back with a grimace. Oh. Okay. Shit.

He blurred it all out. The anaesthesiologist had done his work well. He couldn't feel the knife digging itself into his chest, he couldn't feel it dragging chunks of his flesh out. He watched as it happened with a hollow stare- apathy was the main numbing agent. He wished he could just sink into repose like he had before. The reprise of the situation would happen again next time. Reprise? Repose? They were synonymous. Again and again, until something breaks. Something would put him to rest and he would wake up again like he had before.

“I am the lawyer fighting for your case, I am the jury arguing against you…” Soul whispered, drawing his breath near and close, almost afraid to share anything with the man in front of him. "Thermodynamics states that you are the same… The same as he… Threes, not thirds!”

The Automaton leaned down at this, glancing at his disheveled form with slight confusion. He asked, "Pardon?”

Soul didn't listen. He was too busy hearing the ringing of the Bell curve, skull pounding in rhythm with the metronome, painting himself as the sane minority. It's the same as insane, if you really think about it. The right to a stable mind is an unobtainable privilege, but it is wholly possible in the eyes of the beholder. If only Soul was his own protagonist, then he'd be able to behold the fruits of his labors quite well.

He leaned his head back with an almost tipsy look in his eyes, a laugh in his throat swirling with a gag.

“Oh you think you're so smart for that… Don't you!-” He found himself suddenly hissing and lurching forward, before reminding himself of his own foreword and recalling the fact that lawyers probably don't harm their clients. Even if they're unwilling. No, he was a good person. He was whole. The other two were just parasites that had happened to stumble about. Why did he still defend their right to exist? They refused to acknowledge that they were the same.

He refused to acknowledge that the three of them were insane.

He held that thought at his lips, before standing up and nearly attempting to spit it out with a heave.

Mind rushed towards him, joints grinding against each other artificially. He stared at him with the eyes of a snake, like some peasant trying to rid the king of his crown. Tridential regicide! God!

“No! No! This talk is over! Not another word from you!” Soul gasped, scrambling away. He collapsed just a few steps into the hall, dragging himself the rest of the way to his room.

The second law of thermodynamics states that energy cannot be created or destroyed- that it can only change forms. You could suppress your urges in one field to invest in another- but you can never shove down your own zeal completely.

Soul slammed the door shut, falling down completely, laying on the floor with an almost awestruck expression on his face. The very root of his issues had clawed its way out of its own grave, told him what was wrong with what Soul always did, and crawled his way back down again. The visage was rotting, the corpse was alive- the carrion was walking, its eyes on the prize! The price was anonymous, probably costing nearly two thirds of a dollar, but pest control was sacred! He needed them gone!

And even though the war would never be over, the causation of depression nearly always fighting against him and the two passengers along with him- if he could get rid of those two neat sections of the load, maybe the boat would finally stop sinking.

Or maybe it would drag him down deeper. Maybe without his two counterparts, he would be weaker. Maybe none of them were meant to tear away from the abyss, born from the sacred flesh in which their forms were sculpted from.

Such a disgusting thought. They always swarmed around his head like flies or vultures, maybe he was the dead man walking here. Maybe that was why Heart's gaze was blind- Mind's was fresh- and his was merely atrophied from a lack of true vision.

His ego had told him to shun away the evidence of their faces and their uncanny resemblance. It had told him to neglect how they were lacking and completing, and he had listened. He hadn't even turned to look back- as it had stolen away the whites of his eyes too, and it had sealed the half of his decent side into some merciless black.

The closed system that he had barricaded and built around himself was loosening. It was leaking energy he would never get back. Entropy was freezing him in that very spot, the thing that kept him moving- going against the laws we have accustomed to build reality- had begun shattering in midair and fizzling out like dying oil lamps or active fireflies. He was unsure which was which, he was unsure if he would ever be sure.

Those laws must be nonsense. If they had any stable foundation in reality, why did they desert him in the most desperate throes of looming consciousness? He didn't want to admit that he might be wrong, even if that would make him right, because there's always the possibility that the assumption of self satisfaction was to be a lie. His hands laid outstretched towards the sky, reaching out and, with dying resolve, attempting to reach for that final dream that lay beyond even the most final frontier. Fragile at closer inspection, ready to shatter, and even more ready to drag itself together because of gravity. Again, and again- and again.

No matter how many times he said again, no matter how many times he yelled cut- no matter how many directions he yelled into the void, it would happen again. The world would cleanse itself of the memory- the good and the bad. The fact and the fiction. It would recall the lines drawn between Ethos, Pathos, and Logos. The rest was irrelevant. The evidence was trite. It all existed inside of their head, things being made up inside of their individual pseudo-consciousness. What was the difference between truth and false when one lacked the confidence to attempt to differentiate between the two? Nothing.

Soul was- he was- oh, who was he fooling here if not himself? He was nobody. Not even relatively close to the identity he was supposed to be. If anything, he was cripplingly tired, and that didn't help a damn thing. He lay there with the very black sunken eyes Heart owned, and he spoke with the same sharp tongue that Mind was too preoccupied with using to detect it in his voice. Just because they only found the flaws in him that they were concerned with didn't mean that the others didn't exist.

Heart and Mind were the same. He was different. He had to be different. Mediation was impossible then if he couldn't rip himself away from the other two. They could never be whole if they truly were the thirds they were supposed to be. They were three, and he needed to pacify them so they would finally fade away. Then he could be one. Not just one with Whole- but one as Whole.

Something in him doubted that.

He would recite the laws. He would split off and separate himself from the bad apples, he'd roll back to the tree- the tree towering so high over them. The tree that he would have to be.

Survival of the fittest, a lawyer in the making. His finality. His solution. The one he strived for- and he was so unbelievably close. He had to ignore that nagging voice holding him back.

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AN: mid as shit ... but anyway planning for there to be three chapters in total

barely beta read/looked over ... my neglected child , we're dying like soul's ego and likely fanon god complex

#chonnyjashfanfic #chonny jash #cccc heart #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonnyjashshit #wacky #fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction #crossposted #crossposting #cccc mind #cccc #cccc soul #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #mentionedwhole

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