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#is the day my soul rests
pusangkambing · 6 months
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Just read that jaiden called phil dad today as a joke when will the suffering end
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Also I am. Constantly forgetting how fucking funny Hunter is. We never give him enough credit for how funny he is because his life is so fucked up but I swear 90% of his lines are just bit after bit after bit. He's not even trying either. Anytime he actively tries to make a joke it falls flat but if you just put him in a Scenario he'll find a way to be so over invested and yet out of touch/at odds with whatever's going on. He's so autistic
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cups-and-pentacles · 11 months
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Oh! Here's art I commissioned from @springbon-t-art of the Soul AU! :D
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sniickerdoodlies · 1 month
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More Tav, more Tav, more Tav!!
This one took me SO ridiculously long to get right. The rendering just WOULD. NOT. COOPERATE with me for the longes time, I think this is the FOURTH version I have “completed” of this drawing alone, but finally I have something I genuinely like!
Today’s model is of course Iraeiara, because she is literally the only thing I’ve drawn since like October when I first hatched her out of my braincells.
I… don’t really have much more to say. I hope you guys will like it hehe
OH, right! @avocado-writing Here is your taaag~ thank you for hanging out with me the other night while I worked on this! It was very pleasant. I hope you’ll like the finished work!
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synthshenanigans · 4 months
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Finally has been a full year since I started listening
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Fuckin hate that guy eugh
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wulfhalls · 28 days
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superbattrash · 10 months
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I wrote a thing for @battybat604's beautiful (and brain rotting and haunting and amazing and-) art. You should, yaknow, check it out, if you like slightly possessive Clark and petty, little shit behavior from Bruce :)
Summary: Bruce has been acting weird all week and when Clark sees him at the gala they're both attending, he has a hard time keeping himself in check. Because of course Bruce chooses tonight to show just how much of a brat he can be.
Excerpt: It’s not often that Clark snaps. But even the most flexible people will encounter someone who makes them feel less like a spring and more like a twig held a little too tightly. So easily breakable, snapping more often than not in the pressure of their hands. That person for Clark is Bruce Wayne.
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soulshards-ooc · 10 months
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Oopsie, my finger slipped....
Say hello to Kiros, the new Duskwight.
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puhpandas · 7 months
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Watch
(2,984 words)
Gregory dies saving the Pizzaplex from the virus. In return, Evan saves Gregory by giving him the gift of life. Evan is done with just watching. (warnings: major character (child) death (gregory), implied murder, implied stabbing, blood.
Evan had to go fight his Father on his own.
Vanessa had been too incapacitated. Too distraught to come along. She'd woken up not too long after Gregory had freed her, hair greasy and wirey and body weak, knees wobbly. It had only gotten worse after she'd seen the cost.
Theres nothing Evan could have helped with. All he could do is finish things.
His Father had gone down easily. Theres not much you can do as an animatronic on the brink of collapse, no matter how much of your virus is spread across the network. No matter how many brute machines you have at your command. Its hard to kill somebody whose already dead. To hurt somebody who isnt tangible.
All Evan had to do was call in a favor.
The amalgamation hadn't needed any more than a promise. It had thrown itself at his Father, giving itself up to secure that his Father is gone forever. For good.
Evan had promised to set the fire. He knows that Freddy has a lighter in his finger. He knows that his Father is stuck, and is at Evan's will.
Evan has the power to take the call, here. He can set the fire whenever he wants. He gets to choose when it all ends.
He hasn't, yet. He just needs to see Gregory again.
Vanessa has barely moved by the time Evan phases through floors, arriving back in Vannys old hideout. Shes sitting up, but unmoving. Before, her shoulders shook harshly with barely contained grief.
Now, it's like shes empty. Like there's nothing left of her.
After what was lost to free her, Evan understands why.
He can barely look, once he floats next to Vanessa. Gregory is right where Evan had left him, still laid flat on the linoleum tile under Vanessa's hunched form.
Shes almost curled around him, as if to protect him. He cant be protected much, anymore. But he deserves to have whats left of him taken care of.
It hurts so much more than the others when Evan forces himself to look. Nothings changed; Gregory is still unmoving, eyes open and unseeing. The knife is discarded to their left, tossed in some corner to rot.
The floor is a mess. Gregorys blood stains every crevice. His blue shirt is barely recognizable, violent rips and tears litter the area near his stomach, and blood stains the fabric a sickening black.
Evan stares at his face. It doesnt so much as twitch.
He knows better than to beg. He knows better than to hope, or plead, or wish.
He's dead. Evan knows. He's known this whole time. He knew when he'd gone off to fight his Father. To get revenge.
Gregory's dead.
It hurts so much more than the others.
Evan floats downwards, sitting by Gregory's body next to Vanessa as much as he can as a ghost. She doesn't seem to register that hes there, just staring blankly at Gregory. At the empty husk of the boy Evan had just begun to know.
Shes already expressed her grief. She'd yelled and screamed and sobbed when he'd still been alive, clinging to life by a thread, but despite Vanessa's attempts, he'd died in her arms.
They'd only shared little words before it was over.
They'd watched as the life left his eyes. Evan watched as Gregory went still in that way only dead people can. He'd watched as Vanessa fell apart.
It hurt so much more than the others.
He'd just been getting to know Gregory. He'd only scraped the surface. He'd only known Gregory for six hours, but he'd felt like he'd known him for a lifetime.
He'd just been getting to know him, and Evan had been planning to stick around. He'd been planning to follow Gregory. He'd been planning to take the one child who'd been brave enough, smart enough, to survive, and lead him to the source.
Hed been planning on finally doing something. He'd been planning on ending it all, and saving one child out of it. He'd been planning on being done with watching, and doing something about it. He'd tried to help the others, to guide them where it mattered, help them survive, but they'd been snuffed out before they could begin.
And all Evan could do is watch.
He's so tired of just watching.
"Gr-- Gree-- Gregory..." Freddys voice filters out of the watch, crackling and glitching. "Gregor-- ory-- Please tell me you are saf-- fe. I cannot re-- each you--"
Something snaps in Evan, at that. Freddy doesn't know. Freddy had tried so hard, like Evan had, to save someone. To save one person after so many were lost.
Evan has seen Freddy. Hes seen them all. Hes seen how they all wake up the next day horrified at the blood under their claws, and the memories of murdering burned into their code. Evan has seen how all Freddy's been able to do is watch as he's hijacked, unable to fight back, and forced to sit backseat in his own body.
This time had been different. Freddy had been spared. Freddy had fought for Gregory. Freddy didnt just watch this time.
Evan doesnt want to just watch anymore.
Evan's stomach burns, normally, his soul is cold, as lifeless ghosts are. Just a figment of who he used to be.
So unlike the chill hes used too, how unfeeling he usually is, warmth bursts in his stomach, at hot as fire, and it swirls. Unfurling and spreading.
It tingles, prickling and sharp, and to Evan, somehow, it feels like an invitation.
Evan had been the first. He'd been there for it all. He'd been there when Charlie had died. He'd been there when she had given life to the other children. He'd been there when they'd all lost their humanity. He'd been there for the first fire, the second, and soon, the third.
Evan had been the first.
His chest burns with intensity, hot and bubbling.
Gregory will be the last.
He welcomes it; the simmering feeling underneath the film of numbness. It claws to escape, and Evan let's it.
He curls inward, a burst of light shining from his body, and at its warmth, it's like Vanessa comes back to life. She jerks when a glow spreads across the room, twisting her neck to watch it with wide eyes.
He cups his hands gently, shutting his eyes and reaching inward.
The Remnant responds to him. It hears him. It hears his grief, his wishes, and his determination.
Like the others, Gregory never deserved to die. Like the others, he'd been lost to his Father. Like the others, he'd been lost to a long string of tragedy that began on the day Evan died.
His chest opens, a yellow, pinprick of light seeping out and into his hands.
Unlike the others, Gregory will be the last.
Evan holds the remnant gently as can be, and ignores the blatant emptiness inside of him. He ignores how much weaker he feels. He ignores how he essentially just halved his life force.
Instead, he offers the life to Gregory's body, like giving a gift.
It receives it.
The light seeps into Gregory's body, spreading across his injuries and soaking in. Light crawls across his skin, spiderwebbing and stitching skin and flesh together.
The light mends Gregory's body, fixing what had been broken.
Evan never thought that anything involved with his Father could be good. That it could help instead of hurt.
But when Vanessas lights up as Gregory's eyes ignite with life, all gifted by the warmth in Evan's soul, he thinks it's not the magic that's bad, but the man who wields it.
Its agonizing; waiting those few seconds for Gregory to wake up, but the shine that had re-entered his eyes only grows brighter when he gasps harshly, jerking to life.
With a cry of joy, Evan shoots forward, attempting a hug as much as he can as a ghost. At the same time, Vanessa sobs with barely contained relief and reaches out, pulling Gregory out of the puddle of his own blood and setting him gently against her chest.
Evan meets his eyes, and man, do they look exhausted, but they also look alive. Evan cant contain the grin on his face when Gregory's eyes dart to him, seeing but not. Hes still in that stage between floaty and aware, but Evan waits for him.
It only takes a moment for Gregory himself to understand, but then hes clutching back, breaths deep, life laced within every intake of air.
Vanessa is crying. Shoulder shaking sobs that leave tracks down the dirt and blood on her face, and snot smudged across her cheek.
He doesnt blame her. Evan feels more alive than he has in a long time.
"You--" Gregory rasps out before coughing, but despite the fact, it's the most beautiful sound Evan's heard in years. Compared to the last words Gregory spoke before now being goodbyes. "You saved me."
Evan knows that Gregory knows. He knows everything. When Evan shared a piece of himself with Gregory, it connected them. Their souls are entertwined, now.
Evan feels the remnants of true fear deep inside Gregory of truly dying. He feels the relief that its over. He feels the accomplishment that nobody else will be lost.
Evan knows Gregory knows his feelings, as well. Evan knows Gregory feels the grief for the others. He knows he feels the satisfaction of sending his Father back to Cassidy. He knows he feels the anger at being forced to observe for so long.
So Evan just nods, the permanent tears on his face growing thicker and inkier. "I did."
And it's as simple as that.
Gregorys tucked under Vanessa's chin, her stringy hair falling out of what used to be a ponytail. Shes still sobbing, and Evan doesnt think she'd be able to do much of anything right now.
That's okay. Evan knows Vanessa had cried for the others, too. He knows Vanessa had been horrified at the memories. He knows shed been lost for years.
"You're you?" Gregory asks, weak and thready. He brings up a shaky hand and sets it on Vanessa's arm. Shes still wearing the bunny suit; she hadn't had it in her to tear it off when the only thing shed been focused on was the kid who saved her dying in her arms.
All Vanessa does is nod, over and over, almost deliriously. "Yes--" She sobs. "Because-- Because of you."
And its right there that Evan let's himself relish in the fact that they're all here. After watching so much grief and tragedy take place, its finally over. Gregory saved them, and now Evan was able to save Gregory.
He laughs in delight, feeling more hope and warmth than he has in a long time.
Three victims sit in a circle, relieved and alive.
"Gr-r--" Gregory's watch sputters to life, staticky and warbling. "Gregory-- I'm so worried about yo-- you-- P-P-Please respo--"
Three sets of eyes blow open.
"Freddy!"
👻
Gregory and Evan had been alone together all night. Freddy wasnt able to follow them everywhere, and Gregory, with that determination that saved them that night, carried them far. Deep into the belly of the beast.
But its only when they finally haul themselves up when the clock gets a little too close to six, hop in Vanessa's car, and hightail it to her apartment that Gregory and Evan are alone again.
Vanessa, with a little more energy in her step, had followed through with her promise. Before they'd left, she said she would set the fire. All she wanted to do is take care of a few things. Freddy went along with her, wanting to collect his friends when they wake up free of the virus.
It's just the two of them, now. They're sitting (floating, in Evan's case) on Vanessa's couch, Gregory is eating some cereal, since its all Vanessa had on hand, and hes wearing one of Vanessa's too-big shirts when his had been too ruined to keep.
Theres some cartoon on the TV about a girl and a weird blue floating blob, but Evan isnt paying attention. Not when Gregory is staring at his bowl with furrowed brows, lost in thought.
Evan can tell he wants to say something, so he just sits patiently, and stays quiet when Gregory eventually starts opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the words.
"Evan--" Gregory begins eventually, and when Evan looks over, Gregory's looking at the carpet instead of him. "Um... can I ask you something?"
Evan nods. "Of course."
"Kay." Gregory responds, and then sighs, scratching the back of his neck and fiddling with the fold of fabric where his stomach is. "Uh... well..."
Evan stays silent, waiting for Gregory to gather his thoughts. Evan had hated it when people rushed him when he spoke while he was alive. He wasnt stupid, just nervous.
Eventually, Gregory throws his hands down and huffs, as if biting the bullet. He turns to Evan, looking him in the eyes as he asks, "Why did you save me?"
Evan blinks, and looks at Gregory, confused. They'd already communicated everything when Gregory woke up. "What do you mean?"
Gregory fidgets again, glancing to the side and looking frustrated. "Well-- I mean... just, why did you choose me?"
Evan furrows his brows. "Um... I dont understand."
Gregory growls, but Evan can sense it's not at him, just at Gregory's own scrambled thoughts. He rubs at his eyes, before, "I mean--!. eight other kids went missing before me."
Evan starts to get it. "Oh."
"Just... why did you save me?" Gregory asks again, a little more surely this time. "Like... you literally gave up half of your life force just so I wouldnt die. You met so many other kids that didnt make it... I... just want to know why you see me as so special to sacrifice for."
Evan shakes his head, twisting in place to better face Gregory. He tries to convey so much in one motion, his brain swirling with thoughts, and remnants of feeling from past memories.
"Gregory..." Evan glances downward, an old feeling of grief coming back. It's his old friend at this point. "...Nobody deserved to die. Nobody. But... in a way, some of us didnt. I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm technically living, arent I?"
Gregory nods, but he looks confused. "Yeah, I would say so. But what does this have to do with what I said?"
Evan looks at the couch, watching as his fingers phase through the cushion. "I mean... the others, they died, but they didnt leave. They were still there, but... they weren't living. Bit by bit, they lost themselves, until they really were as good as dead."
Gregory is silent, so Evan continues. "I didnt feel like I was living for a long time, even though I technically wasnt dead. I had my friend. That's what we had that the others didnt. That's how we held on. But when she left... I had to stay for her to, as well, and I was stuck. I couldn't see my family. I was living, but I didnt want to be. I was living, but didnt have a life."
Evan glances up, and sees Gregory's own face looking back at him, eyes sad. Evan frowns, feeling decades of memories creep back up on him. He shoves them down. "All I did was watch tragedy and death occur for years, while I was alone. And I couldnt do a thing about it."
"You were done just watching." Gregory mumbles.
Evan nods. "...I was. So when you came along, and you survived, and dodged death, and saved everybody... you didnt deserve to die. More than the others. After all youd done, you deserved to live."
Theres a stretch of silence, after that. Evan has patience to spare, so when Gregory just stares, probably turning Evan's words over in his head, he waits.
After a while, Gregory tries to set a hand on Evan's shoulder, but it phases through. Gregory frowns, eyes downcast as he stares at his body dissipating at Gregory's touch, falling away like sand. "You havent felt alive in a long time, huh...?"
Theres that connection, again. Evan's gonna have to get used to this; he hasnt been connected to someone this way since Cassidy.
He nods, but in the melancholy, he smiles, and looks pointedly at Gregory. "Yeah," He agrees. "but that changed."
Gregory understands quickly. Evan pushed all of his feelings and earnesty towards that seemingly now permanent sense of Gregory presence, after all. He looks suprised, if his wide eyes are any indication, but then he finally sees the undeniable smile on Evans face, and Evan can sense that Gregory believes him.
Tears swim in Gregory's eyes, and he wipes at them half heartedly, grin on his face. He chuckles wetly. "Would you believe me if I said nobody has ever said something like that to me?"
Evan fractures, smiling. "Not really. I doubt you've met a lot of other dead people."
"Youd be right." Gregory replies. "Man, I wish I could hug you. It doesnt feel right just letting you sit there and be all... ghosty after saying something like that."
Evan chuckles at that, smile wide. "Put your arms around me."
Gregory raises a brow, but does it anyway.
It's funny. How Gregory, a boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time saved the ones at the heart of the tragedy. He saved everyone without being involved himself, and Evan cant help but feel like Gregory saved him as well, in a way.
And Evan, who shuts his eyes and brings forth every ounce of power he has as a poltergeist, let's his body fall against another solid one, and sink into the hug.
ao3 link
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thebirdandhersong · 6 months
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on the good news train today: I have finally finished the last chapter(!!!) of my Inklings challenge story, which marks the FIRST ever Inklings challenge story I've ever completed properly :'D coming in at 30,810 words (yikes) (it did get out of hand, I must admit), it is definitely not a short story, but it IS a piece that I think articulates a lot of what I've been thinking about lately re: love and death, and, considering everything, is probably something I needed to write. I am very happy!! It has been a wild ride, but a deeply clarifying one.
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welcometogrouchland · 2 years
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[ID: three images of fanart of the owl house. The first image shows Eda during kings tide. Half of her is fading away into dark feathers from the draining spell, and she's looking distraught into the distance. The lyrics "our mother has been absent" are written next to her.
The second image shows the silhouette of king and the collector, floating in the distance. The backdrop is the moon, but changed to look like the collectors logo/iconography. The lyrics "ever since we founded Rome" are written beneath them.
The third and final image shows Luz in her season 3 poster design stepping out of a bright white portal onto a dark background. She's stylised to have no eyes but is smirking with a determined expression. Written above her is the lyrics "but there's gonna be a party when the wolf comes home". End ID]
(@toh-described) CAN I GET A FUCKING WAHOO(T) FOR SEASON 3??? 🦉🔮✨
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soldier-poet-king · 3 months
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Been working my way v slowly thru Flannery O'Connor's short stories, and short stories as a format/genre are hit and miss for me in general (but I love the grotesque so I had to read O'Connor), overall tho I've just been kinda meh about them? There certainly have been some stand out ones, but for the most part I haven't found them that resonant - which is a me problem, I KNOW my white northern city dumbass is missing out on a lot of the cultural and temporal vibes and nuances
That being said, 'the enduring chill' just fuckin dragged my ass. You know who's gonna have an enduring chill now Ms O'Connor? ME
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sisterdivinium · 4 months
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Guilt served as comfortable bed sheet, as did darkness — the price for the sacrilege of love.
But a mischievous light shone briefly from outside and Jillian perceived the shapes of the woman she had spent the night adoring: scars, dimples, hair and fat which she only loved all the more, growing ashamed of her shame, of hiding her own mangled arm.
Then she saw the thin, injured skin of Suzannes’s knees and understood.
She could not hide from God.
Jillian dropped to her own knees, cursing the cross, defying it; worshipping her lover with new passion under His resentful eye.
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youngyoo-apologist · 15 days
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If I ever met Cale I’d laugh in his face because my life is everything he wants his to be (I slack off and he doesn’t)
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Shrimpy?
We have Grim, and now our dearest Shrimp Prefect is here (I finished them August 18th but haven’t posted them yet).
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nancywheeeler · 1 year
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your cosmic call sign
pairings: steve/eddie, steve & the party; background relationships: dustin/suzie, mike/eleven, lucas/max     chapter count: 6/6     rating: t     summary: Steve looks up at the sky and sees stars. Eddie looks up at the sky and sees alien spaceships. It’s going to start with a graveyard shift, a midnight radio hour, and Dustin Henderson. It’s going to end New Year’s Eve, 1985—one way or another.     read the finale on ao3. start from the beginning here.
And love, well. Love is a very small thing. It slips through the slotted fingers of intertwined hands. He carries it out in a takeout bag from Benny’s. It’s the length of an episode of The Twilight Zone, not a second longer than a song recommended to him by a voice on his radio. It’s captured on 8mm. Only when he steps back and considers these tiny and insignificant acts together, does love reveal itself to be a vast sky of a million little stars.
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