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frownyalfred · 1 year

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borderline

A mysterious force connects the Batfamily's minds together.

—

Bruce’s knees hit the ground before his coffee.

The mug shatters just after his mind does, fracturing into a hundred different pieces. Thoughts, emotions, memories -- they all blur, split into fragments he cannot hope to process. He needs to --

-- Dick is upstairs on the parlor settee, writhing in pain. He was thinking about Barbara. There's a half-eaten sandwich on the table, one he hadn’t planned on finishing. Tuna salad, something he’s always eaten to appease Alfred. Alfred still makes it, and Dick still eats it, because he has to.

Please, he thinks, loud enough for it to rise above the storm surge in Bruce’s mind, Why is this --

-- Jason is in the garage, down on one knee like Bruce. He’s biting his lip to keep himself from crying out. It’s beginning to bleed, and the salty blood flooding his mouth reminds him of when the Pit water flooded into his lungs --

-- Cass was meditating. Now, she’s frozen with her legs folded under her, bile rising in her throat as she grips the edges of her yoga mat. Bruce feels her nausea it like it’s his own, feels the sickly panic in her stomach that sharpens with every second their minds keep --

Tim is bent over his laptop in the second floor den. His nose is gushing blood into the keyboard, destroying the custom key caps. His thoughts cling to Bruce like he's a life raft, begging him for some kind of answer. It's impossible, what's happening. It literally isn't possible, not unless they've been cursed or infected by alien tech. He doesn't think they picked anything new up today, and if Bruce doesn't know, then he --

-- Steph wasn’t awake, but she is now, fighting off a headache worse than any migraine she’s ever had. Her patrol shift is in forty minutes. She was nursing a slight cold in bed, praying it would resolve by patrol. If Bruce finds out she's sick, he'll--

-- Damian is shivering on the floor of his bathroom, arms wrapped around his legs. His fingers dig into the backs of his eyes, trying to press out the voices and thoughts. If he just concentrates, he can do it. He can. Father would --

ENOUGH.

Bruce slams a wall down, hard enough that every person in the Manor winces. He is left with the near-silence of his own thoughts, and even though it is quiet, it is no longer soothing. The bond itches at the back of his mind, dragging his thoughts back to the bond like a sunflower following the sun.

He can feel each of his children slowly putting down their own walls, dividing their thoughts like he had. It takes Tim less than three seconds to perfect Bruce’s method, and he shares the instructions with the others instantly.

Dick retches into a trash can. Jason spits the blood in his mouth on the garage floor, scowling. Steph pulls herself out of bed, heading for Cass’ room next door. Damian’s hands slip from his face, and slowly -- slowly -- the thoughts begin to quiet. They are their own people again -- or as much as they can be.

Bruce’s knees are soaked in coffee. He opens his eyes, wincing at the light from the Cave computer screens. How long was he…?

Seven minutes, Tim says, swiping a hand across his laptop screen and clearing his blood splatter away, Seven minutes and twenty eight seconds.

Get out of my fucking head!

Bruce winces at Jason’s volume, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dick sends him a burst of sympathy, brushing up against the walls around his mind.

Trying, Tim replies, TRYING, OKAY?

Shut UP! Steph thinks, her thoughts sharp as daggers, You’re making it worse!

Cass is crying, and Bruce can feel it. Steph’s hand is on her arm, trying to comfort her. It is odd to feel both the hand giving comfort, and the arm receiving it. Neither of them know what to make of the sensation.

There is no comfort, he realizes. Not when they’re overlapping like this. Not when he know that Dick is about to tell him to --

Lighten up, he says, an aside to Bruce. Mostly. We can’t be doom and gloom about this. You’ll make it --

-- worse, Jason says, finishing his sentence, Lock it down, B. You’re making the birds nervous.

Bruce inhales, centering himself. He visualizes the walls around his mind thickening, rough and unyielding. Thinks of Gotham alleys and the smell of rainwater collecting between bricks.

Dick’s approval entwines with Jason’s reluctant awe. The latter emulates Bruce a moment later, chains and spikes spreading across his mental walls.

Better, Dick thinks, testing them with a mental push, But I can still feel --

-- your thoughts, Bruce finishes, sensing Jason's irritation, Try again.

This time, Jason succeeds in his attempt, his thoughts fading into an indistinct hum. Bruce tests the walls, feeling Tim and Steph do the same to him. A moment later, they brush against each other, recoiling in unison as they realize who the other is.

Damian is still lying on the floor in his bathroom. He doesn’t separate his thoughts like the others. He avoids conscious thought as much as possible, but what does filter through is bitter with fear.

Damian? Dick asks. At the same time, Steph rubs an arm up Cass’ side, trying so very, very hard not to freak out.

One by one, they pick themselves up. Slightly calmer, with their thoughts pulled back in their respective corners, the bond is -- well, it's not painless, but it's better. Better than whatever the initial, panicked flurry of thoughts had been.

Dick heads for Damian’s suite without a word, grim. Jason eyes the stairs down to the Cave. Tim is already typing on his laptop, growing irritated as the keys begin to lag from the water damage. Cass leans into Steph's shoulder, exhaling.

Bruce pushes off the floor, ignoring the sodden knees of his pants. He directs his thoughts to the group at large, softening his walls enough for it to get through.

Cave, he thinks as clearly as he can, Five minutes. We need to talk.

#myfic #late night fic ideas #it's on ao3 too #late night rambles #theresurrectionist #batfamily #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #batfam #this is a dark visions rip off yes

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the-chaos-crew · 7 months

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when you're crushing for your roomie but you've never felt this feeling before

drown it out with (totally) fruit punch

#prohibitedwish #prismo the wishmaster #scarab the god auditor #its late at night and I should have been in bed by now #but this idea just came to me and I had to #why must it be so easy to just half ass a comic #but fully coloring and lining a comic makes me want to do anything else #anyways enjoy #I can see someone turning this into a fic #and I would love to see the day that comes into fortition #adventure time #fanart #fionna and cake fanart #fionna and cake prismo #fionna and cake scarab #scarab x prismo #prismo x scarab #they're so gay I love them

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cheesecakethots · 24 days

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ok assassin toji being hired to kidnap prince gojo’s bride-to-be, only to find himself stashing her away in his shoddy little cabin to be his wifey instead <3

#I am writing a longer fic on this I just needed to manifest it into existence quick #always late at night I get ideas like this #also to the anon that sent me that uvo & chrollo thought… u have awakened something in me #I will be writing on them #tw yandere #yandere toji fushiguro #yandere toji #yandere jjk

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grimesgirll · 1 month

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they shake their heads sayin’, “god, help her” when I tell ’em he’s my man

i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

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becauseplot · 6 months

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anyway yeah fr i miss ordo theoritas. i miss the theory crafting i miss the hugeass meetings before/after Big Lore Event to brief/debrief everyone involved i miss the chaos and confusion and laughter and teamwork. i miss the cellbit, bad, and phil (key-keepers my beloveds) being the heads of the ordo working together to untangle the mysteries to the island. they were hardly ever on at the same time bc schedules and time zones (WAILS) but in my head they had so many late nights down in the evidence rooms like this

just. yeah. yeahh.

#qsmp #ordo theoritas #qsmp philza #qsmp cellbit #qsmp badboyhalo #i might have a fic idea but rn it’s just archivists bc they live in my head rent free #also im not too comfortable writing bad bc (1) i don’t watch him as much and (2) his lore is like?? so complicated??#as an outside viewer its pretty intimidating lol #it’s the vibe of late night working w your friends on a project/lab/whatever slowly losing your minds tying to figure it out #it’s 2:30 am you’ve been talking in circles the theories are getting more out there but ya don’t rly care bc hey it’s Something #and then someone says smthn that’s just like Woah. wait Actually?? and it kicks you all back into gear to get you chugging along again #anyway i miss them i go sleepies now gnnnn #dont mind me im just rambling #god so much for me going to bed at a decent hour lmao

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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 6 months

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Harry was like the dark rain at the end of summer.

He rolled in like storm clouds on the horizon, a bright blue sky that faded slowly, then all at once to a dull dark grey. Harry walked into every room with a shade around him, dimming all the lights until he was the brightest source—a flash in the darkest dark—twisting, jagged just like that scar across his forehead.

Tom knew it the minute he laid his eyes on him, the moment that smell of ozone crept by, wafting and humid, sticking to him like a second skin.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #my fic #drabble #late night drabbles #no i will NOT stop comparing harry to summer storms #and the same goes for tom to fire and the beating sun #🤣🤣🤣#i just like the idea of harry being something cool/chilling and pelting and tom being a blazing inferno #i like the idea that when they touch they sizzle and steam and turn hard like volcanic rock #whoever sees this so late(early?)-it will be a secret between us 😌

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breadandblankets · 1 month

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Leaves crunch and twigs snap as Jason, lead foot and tired, stomps back to their little campsite with his bag of sad looking tatos, onions, and herbs.

(Herbs were the real hot commodity in the Commonwealth, the only people who still had em after the war were the Vaults. Well except for rosemary.... and mint. Like radroaches those weeds.)

Jason was about 75% certain that the lady at the market stand had upcharged him for his handsome mug.

Fucking assholes. This was why he didn't leave Goodneighbor for too long.

His charge was still where Jason had left him, sitting prim and proper in the makeshift camp Jason had set up before he left.

As he approached, Damian glanced up sharply, his hand outstretched with a piece of jerky no doubt stolen from Jason's pack. He was feeding it to a-

Jason stops in his tracks.

No fucking way.

"Brat that better not be what I think it is."

"I wasn't aware that you had enough brain cells left to think Todd."

"That's a fucking baby deathclaw."

Indeed it was, about the size of a medium dog with claws the same length as it's head. The little ball of tanky lizard destruction took Damian's distraction as an opportunity to snatch the jerky out of his hand.

"This is Humphrey, I hatched her myself."

".....What?"

"Hatched her, do keep up Todd."

"How long have you had her?" Jason tries to run the rough math on how long deathclaws incubate eggs for a runs into the brick wall that is the terror that Damian just stole a deathclaw egg from presumably a deathclaw mother.

The fact that Damian was anywhere near a position to be in the vicinity of a deathclaw mother meant Talia was going to kill him stone dead. For good this time.

"Three weeks," Damian reports in a clipped tone. He says this while petting the tiny creature that Jason has no doubt in his mind could rip them both to shreds in seconds.

Jason had lost more than a few traveling companions to the claws of a pissed lizard, they're the kind of animal that just gets mad when you shoot it.

But this was also Damian, the twerp had some sort of uncanny nack for getting the creepy crawlies of the Commonwealth to listen to him.

Fucking damnit.

"Fine, but you're explaining this to your mother."

"Acceptable," Damian sniffs, holding out a hand to shake.

Jason, despite himself, takes it.

#jason todd #damian wayne #batfam #bread talk #fo4 #batout au #my fic #anyway this does imply damian has a charisma of 9 #lmao lmfao even #based on a late night conversation with my darling snow #just the idea of damian raising a baby deathclaw as a pet #because he fuckign Would #jason is here like ah im so dead-er

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randomwriteronline · 13 days

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Bionicle and Plato's Cave: Mata Nui help us Random has been thinking again

HI. MY BRAIN HAS ONCE AGAIN BEEN SCRAMBLED. WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING.

A thing about stories is that there aren't really fully, one-hundred percent original ones. This is not a bad thing, it just happens.

Stories keep repeating one another whether we like it or not, maintaining their own identities through a variety of changes, and Bionicle repeats many, many stories within itself: you've got Polynesian mythos, fantasy epics, dystopian fiction, cosmic horrors, torahic and/or biblical episodes, a subversion of Pinocchio, an Odissey cut short... The works. I'm half certain one would manage to fit some parts of the Divine Comedy in there, probably.

But speaking of deeply allegorical works, the Organic Annal is that too - specifically bearing a resemblance to one of Greek philosopher Plato's most famous allegorical myths, that of the cave.

For those who do not know it, please have a simplistic bastardized version of its first half, which is the most relevant in this case:

A group of men have been, since birth, shackled within the deepest recesses of a cave. They are sat facing a wall upon which a fire casts the shadows of figurines (a tree, a donkey, a vase, etc) placed before it: this is all they've ever known, what they perceive to be reality. Imagine, then, that one of these prisoners manages to free themself from their restraints, and for the first time looks back. Thus they discover the figurines, the fire, and the lie they thought was truth; and though it would be easy to consider these new idols the "true" reality, the prisoner looks past them and sees that the cave stretches forward. As such they crawl through it until they reach the outside world: the sunlight forces their eyes down as they are not used to it yet, and their first taste of this new environment is a reflection in a puddle, or maybe a lake, wobbly and not quite clear. Only when they've accustomed to the Sun they can raise their head and properly discover the real world.

The myth of the cave is an allegory for the philosopher's quest in search of true knowledge, which resides not in the imperfect physical world, but in the perfect metaphysical realm of ideas.

This is not, necessarily, the allegory I believe the Innard Scoresheet represents.

The Biological Chronicle is, to me, a story about stories. About making stories, about being swept in the flow of a story, about recreating ourselves in stories over and over and over again.

I promise it will probably make more sense later.

But back to the point: the myth and the Flesh Record follow a similar structure and have a similar message. That is the thesis of this post until I inevitably get derailed again. Let's look at that.

In applying the steps (shadow, copy, reflection, reality) of the philosopher's journey towards enlightenment to the Meat Diaries, I'll do what Plato would bludgeon my head with a stick for and take them much more literally: the places described are physical ones, and the characters actively move between them. This is not because of any personal wish to specifically spite some dead Athenian fuck, but because that is literally what happens in the Entrail Annotations, whether through actual movement or changes of perspective.

The island of Mata Nui is of course the first step: shadows cast upon a cave wall.

There is a certain irony in this. Mata Nui shares the same allegorical location as the cave, yet physically is its complete opposite - an open space signaling the end of an enormous interconnected system of caves. The journey starts from the end. Great job everybody, we've found reality! This philosophy shit is easy.

But the island is still very much the cave. It looks prettier and livelier than the cave, but it's still a prison in which the Matoran have been confined with no chance of escaping; it's still cut off from the world at large, be it beneath it ir around it; it's still a place where beings who do not know any better blindly believe what is told to them. Only seven people know the truth (or what they believe to be the truth) and spin it in tales of shadow puppets: simplistic retellings full of gaps to fill with magic and terror and prophecies. The Turaga mean no harm - they had no way to know when or if they would have ever returned to Metru Nui, and it made no sense reminding the Matoran of a place they may end up agonizing to see without being able to - but it remains that Mata Nui is a cave, a prison of ignorance.

Things change after Mask of Light: shackles broken and door opened, the silver sea stretches before the Matoran and offers them a sight familiar yet different, more defined.

Metru Nui is the figurine, the copy held in front of the fire. It's the first introduction to the Matoran Universe proper, the first step towards the cave's exit. Here we see how the Matoran are supposed to work, how this sort of society is meant to function, and it... well, it sort of sucks the joy out of it, doesn't it? The soft edges of the figurine's shadow have been replaced by hard protodermis sides that leave no room to the imagination, letting us see the craftmanship clearly. And it's... it's kind of unpleasant. Kind of dull and mean and so... unmagical. I'd like the shadows again please. Those were nicer.

(Plato describes this exact happenstance in the philosopher's journey - upon seeing something closer to the truth one might feel repelled and want to return to simpler times. But we persevere. We must.)

Or perhaps this step is not Metru Nui itself, but the Turaga's recollection of it. The city they knew is now gone, abandoned to itself and rotting miserably alone for a thousand years, and yet they still cling to that pristine image their minds have sculpted for it, forgetting details, crafting imperfect copies of its reality: their own stories place it in a time before time, turn it as they say in a "city of legends", of great minds and a great hero and a strange tension pervading it that they might not consciously recognize. This is their basis for the stories they told, and they believe it to be the truth. It is not. The truth is deeper behind them.

The Matoran Universe as a whole is a reflection in the water. We've gotten out of that cave, but it's still too bright and our eyes can't adapt quickly enough: this will have to do for now.

But what is it a reflection of? A body? That's a given, since the whole thing is housed inside one. Yet this body does not behave like a body, its organs don't act like organs. They are landmarks and settlements, and there are species and parties involved in their own more or less treacherous businesses, and death is everywhere and seldom spares anybody, and evil isn't a singular incomprehensible thing but many perfectly identical pieces, and everything is happening all the time and I would like a break. Please. I can't handle all of this. It's too close to how everything already is. Let's go back to the figurines. They were worse than the shadows, but not to this extent. Please. I just don't want to see the bad guys win. I just don't want to see my friends die.

(Upon seeing something closer to the truth one might feel repelled and want to return to simpler times. But we persevere. We must.)

The Matoran Universe is a terrible place, but it's still far away. The edges are wobbly when the surface shifts: the stakes are universal in size, the rivalries are exaggerated, the situations are fantastical, the evil so terrible and terribly simple. It does what it does because it simply does it, and after all why else should it do it? In its increasing complexity it's still simple and sometimes a bit silly. It's still dolls that you can hold in your hand to make fly around.

As @sepublic mentions briefly here, Bara Magna is by contrast just so human. Before the big bombastic Rock-Em-Sock-Em Jumbo Edition ending and peeling away the sci-fi elements, these are stories of people trying to live. This is reality.

People are sleazy. People have priorities that not always include the well-being of other being put first. People are evil for reasons beyond just "power" or "money" or "why not". Strakk is a massive selfish bastard and also he is the one motherfucker who gets me because to be very honest I too would not want to wade through a desert crawling with quicksand and huge bat winged serpents and raptor riding marauders and spartans so bloodthirsty they don't even name their children until they make a new body count record without being paid well enough. Mata Nui's idealized honor makes him a complete anomaly because nobody is a prince in shining armor here. They're all covered in bones and doing their best not to start a war again.

Even his quest, despite what it entails and how solemnly he presents it and the information we as readers have (his identity as a usurped god exiled from his own body), is surprisingly real - in fact, his struggle is actually the same as Kiina's: both of them are strangers to the region suddenly separated from their people during a time of great strife and desperately wanting to reunite with them. The difference being that while Kiina had no chance to do such a thing, Mata Nui was built to fix both of their problems.

This is what the Matoran Universe is made in the image of. And while it very much deviated across time, the core of it remained the same: elemental tribes and variegated species caught in a dance of death, biting each other's tails endlessly.

This is the world the MU beings find once fully free. It's rough, but they've been through something like this before.

They'll handle it.

They always have.

That is the will of the Non-Mineral Journal.

Of Bionicle, the story-that-ended.

BUT.

Not necessarily of Bionicle, the story-that-does-not-end.

Now we are getting into "Random Experiences Getting The Brain Scrubbed By The Hard Back Of A Sponge And Makes It The Problem Of Everybody Listening To The Inane Yelling" territory. I'm talking walking into headcanon if not straight up just fanfiction territory. Possibly also sensible speculation but I don't know how to tell. Please do come smack me if you feel it is needed.

It's wild that Bionicle has managed to endure for what now (2024) are 23 years. The endless rebuildable possibilities intrinsic to being a LEGO product have certainly helped, but at the same time I really do feel like it wouldn't have held this strongly without its story.

I will admit I'm not a building kind of person. I had some ancient LEGO bricks when I was little and what I usually did with them was stacking them in a really tall line and try to keep it upright until they fell and scattered like lemmings booking it for a cliff. Getting into Bionicle would have never been possible for me had my dear beautiful friend @cantankerouscanuck not innocently dropped me links to Legends of Metru Nui, Web of Shadows, and the Crosswired Geeks website asking if I could have please considered skimming through it. This was back in september 2023. These pieces of plastic have been irreversibly fucking up my brain for nine months, and it was only possible because the plot and characters were written in a way that actively sunk its teeth into my skull and did an alligator death spin so potent that I'm still reeling from it, thinking about it.

I do think that's one of the main reasons why it's still going, why people still talk about it. It lives on through fans who still look at all the enormous potential left by the gaps and holes in the story and work on them, analyze them, make their own versions of them. So this second section is about that part of Bionicle, the story that just does not end, carried on by others.

So back to the point, what actually kickstarted this entire line of thought (the Squishy Note and the allegory of the cave are sort of the same lol) was a headcanon I have about the characters that have been actually missing from this analysis: the Great Beings.

You Know.

The Guys Who Kickstarted Every Single Thing, And Notably Continuously Did All Of It Wrong.

From my own prior knowledge I had understood that they are all Glatorian, and I just learned that they also were, apparently, given their incredible weird fucked up mental powers that made them into godly creatures by a space octopus.

I am going to take both pieces of information and discard them.

There is nothing necessarily wrong with them, except maybe coming from the leftest field available like a sack of granite to the face, but I feel like this kind of explanation for who and what they are isn't really satisfactory to me specifically. It does fit with the allegory of the cave still, technically - they are part of the real world, the ones who created every layer of detachment from it on purpose (somebody must have shackled those prisoners at the bottom of the cave, after all) and have managed to get to a higher level of reality still, following the platonic quest for knowledge into something that resembles the iperuranium, the perfect metaphysical world in which ideas reside.

But also... I'd like for there to be a limit to how higher we can go, you know? Into the cosmic horror? Because everything is cosmic horror in the Doctor's Report already. We live on a god's face. We live in a god's body. We are a god's cells. Our universe is a tiny manmade action figure in a larger universe. Our god is just a synthetic soul. The real older gods made it and sent it around to do their bidding. Also they're all gonna kill us when we figure out our universe is fake. Cosmic horror. Cosmic horror for miles. These are fucking LEGOs. Why is there so much existentialism in them.

So yeah, at the cost of sounding boring the psychic octopus from outer space might be a little bit too far for my personal tastes.

This does not mean I am immune to adding onto the cosmic horror.

Because my personal interpretation of who/what they are still adds onto the cosmic horror.

It just doesn't also include "giant aquatic fauna with psychic powers" in the already very large salad of sentient sapient species who have stakes in this universe, because I think we have enough of those.

So what is my platonic ideal form for them?

The Great Beings are human beings. Straight up just people. They're the readers, the players, the writers, the designers, the creators and tellers of the chronicle itself - they have this immense dominion over everything around them because they are the origin of everything around them in a sense, but their constant failings make sense because for all the influence and power they are still human, and that makes them very, very fallible. I mean, mr Greg "I will rewire your brain chemistry forever with some of the best stuff you'll read as a kid, and also for undiscernible reasons doors aren't canon" Farshtey would be one of them. Things make a lot of sense.

(this is impossible in Stone Cold Canon by the way and I am aware, because if we got to properly see the Great Beings they would have needed to be products to sell, but this is not a matter of probability it's a matter of Vision. like can you imagine how fucking cool would have been a Bonkle movie where the characters finally meet the Great Beings face to face and when it happens the style just completely shifts from 3D animation to a stop-motion and live-action combo with the Great Beings played by people and the characters portrayed by their actual sets with all of the lack of expression and stiff hands and all. do you see it. im about to blow up)

And so, we return to the allegory.

What are the shadows on the wall? Are they still the Turaga's tales? Then shouldn't they be their memories, as well? Everything that comes out of their mouth is hazy either with nostalgia or simplification, and none of it can be real. Yet they present it as such, because to them it is. Their ignorance is the same as the Matoran's, but they do not grasp it because they can't. Mata Nui to them is not the cave, it's the reflection in a lake: an imperfect mirror of reality. They cannot see the fire nor the figurines.

They are the figurines. Man-made creations confined under artificial light in a vast underground system, as large as a whole galaxy and yet so small, so isolated, so far back into the cave they are never meant to know anything other than. The shadows were their own but they can't realize that, and they can't realize they themselves are copies. The Matoran Universe is a puppet show that Teridax shuts down as he takes its reigns: he banishes its fire, Mata Nui (who is a gnostic Demiurge, a god made by gods demanding worship despite its falsehood - another copy not fully aware of being a copy) and shuts the entrance, plunging it all into darkness. No more knowledge. It is not something dolls need, after all.

Bara Magna is not the last step. It is not yet reality, not yet the truth. It's closer, much closer, but it's not: it's the lake, the puddle, the reflection that distorts when something is thrown into it. The stakes are more realistic, the characters and motivations, but not yet real. There is still a layer of separation: the elemental powers, the alien setting, the strange beasts, the supernatural history, the secrets pointing to things much bigger and more fantastical than anything reality could be, the way it is cut short by no fault of its own. What does it reflect? It's not the Matoran Universe, since that is a model based on Bara/Spherus Magna. It's not Mata Nui, because that is an attempt at recreating what the Matoran Universe was, at least in part. So... Is it the real world? Our, world?

It must be.

The Great Beings (us, the players and readers and writers and artists) shaped all of this. This universe is their creation, their work, and it is based on what they know, on their reality, because all stories are.

Maybe it was a story as close to real as possible that turned fantastic and wild until it became mythical, or maybe it was a simple story that grew so complex and grounded that it became life-like. It doesn't matter. It's a long story, a really, really long one, and maybe they're tired of it, or maybe they don't know what to do with it, or maybe they just think it has run its course, or maybe... Maybe they don't know how to tell it again. Tell it like this again.

So... I guess the thing to do is clean up.

Full tabula rasa.

And once we're done we can take these figurines we still have left, the last proof of all this immense work, this spiraling dive into who and what we are, how we function, how we create, how we imitate and recreate ourselves in fictional worlds that are our own and yet completely alien over and over, and make new ones. Distorted reflections that become imperfect copies to place before a fire so that their shadows can play out a new story upon a cave wall, for those same dolls to believe they are real.

God I got sidetracked severely

#bionicle #random talks #HELLO this took me TWO DAYS to write and i somehow reached conclusions i hadnt thought of during the writing process. Help Me #it also brought me Thoughts about g2 that i need to write down in a fic Right Now. it is Fucking Late In The Night. Shit.#also i finished this while watching an in-depth analysis of Emesis Blue (tf2 psych-horror movie) thats TWO HOURS LONG and very interesting #just to give you an idea of my current state #anyways its a mess. enjoy.

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fiction-vixen · 1 year

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Imagine Cody having nightmares of memories he can’t remember. The chip has blocked what and who is in the dreams. But Cody suffers through them almost every night and wakes up with this sense of utter loss. He can’t remember who he lost but he knows they’re everything to him.

But then then chip is removed and all the memories of Order 66 come back. The wave of devastation that hits Cody is too much to handle and he falls to his knees. Because he simply followed orders like a good soldier and had to kill Obi Wan. And he almost wishes for the chip back, so he would have to feel his heart shattering in a million pieces over the loss of Obi Wan.

But Rex takes his hand and pull Cody to his feet and simply states: “The General is still out there and we’re going to find him.”

#codywan #commander cody #star wars #order 66 thoughts #just late night thoughts #because I love causing Cody pain #and his friendship with Rex is everything #also fun chip ideas because why not #Also Rex and Cody questing to find Obi Wan would be amazing #fiction vixen has star wars thoughts #fic idea?

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ethaniscool69 · 8 months

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"you could have died merlin!" said arthur with a half annoyed half worried tone.

"but, i didn't. you worry too much arthur, you know i can handle myself. it's you we should be worried about. you don't have magic, you are practically defenseless against those guys!" merlin clapped back.

"that doesn't mean you can just jump in the middle of the fight, literally, and risk your life like that! merlin, i care about you, of course i worry a lot." he said with a soft look.

"oh my god, arthur, did you just say you care about me?" merlin said with a teasing smile on his face, knowing arthur hadn't meant to say the last part out loud.

"shut up merlin." he responded, trying to water down what he had just revealed.

"you are obsessed with me." he said, ignoring what arthur had just told him, trying to annoy him instead.

"merlin, shut. your. mouth." he said with a grin that had escaped his lips.

"you're in love with me, arthur pendragon." merlin replied with the same expression.

"i told you to shut up." translation: so in love with you, it's actually painful.

and merlin knew that, so he just stared at him, love in his eyes overflowing.

"what did i just tell you merlin?!" arthur said with the same smile.

"i have not said a word!" he put his hands up in mock surrender "i've been as quiet as a mouse."

"well then stop looking at me with those eyes." arthur lowered his voice.

"what eyes?" he replied, intensifying the stare and leaning ever so closer to arthur.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" arthur spoke as his eyes fell to merlin's lips.

"and you, a prat." merlin replied, smiling and he too, looking at his lovers lips.

"you can't address me like that." arthur replied, calling back to when they first met.

they both connected their smiling mouths and pulled away after a brief moment.

"you have really got to stop jumping in the middle of fights though. i'm being serious." arthur said.

"alright, alright. but, you have really got to stop going in to those battles without any magical protection." merlin replied.

HAPPY MERLIN 15 YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!! i know i'm a little late to it but, i had to whip something up for our torn gay little hearts :)

#also i got the idea for the fic like late at night #when the melatonin i took was kicking in #so #i'm really sorry if it's not good lol #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin x arthur #merlin #merlin fanart #arthur pendragon fanart #merthur fanart #oh and ignore the roughass sketch of them kissing #merlin 15th anniversary

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cerealboxlore · 1 year

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Hear me out

A Christmas Carol like/type of fic for Billy Batson

You would expect him to love and adore the festive holiday, right? But remember, Billy Batson is a homeless child who doesn't have a family or home for the holidays to celebrate in. He doesn't get presents, a warm bed or nice meals like everyone else does, and probably hasn't for several years despite being a kid. Maybe he's a little bitter that he can't be the kid he used to be

Maybe in the Watchtower the JL is hosting a small holiday party and when someone (The Flash) asks Captain Marvel if he's having a fun time, he lies with a great big smile. But when he walks away into another room, he mutters under his breath that he actually dislikes the holiday a lot, and much to his dismay, Superman accidentally overhears it. Thus immediately begins a surge of rumors spreading like wildfire though the Watchtower about how odd that is the learn about CM.

Slowly each of the members try and bring out the holiday spirit in CM over the next couple of days before Christmas, and CM, who keeps trying to deny his dislike for the holiday, has to just sit down and begrudgingly tell them why he doesn't like the well celebrated and popular holiday (while hiding that he's Billy Batson) and earns so much sympathy and words of encouragement from the others

Superman even offers to invite him over for the holidays, but CM refuses, says maybe another time

That year he spends another Christmas doing patrol and maintaining the Rock of Eternity, but by next year, Billy Batson finally gets to celebrate with the League and the Kent family, finally getting a chance to be a kid, just for a day

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #Shazam #justice league #superman #Fic idea #Late night thoughts #a christmas carol #I know it's past Christmas already but I would have forgotten the idea by the next one #Once Batman knows the truth about Billy he would gift him the present of seeing uncle Ebeneezer being put behind bars #Give Billy Batson back his inheritance money 2023 #And a toy #Don't know if people would like this idea

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leeryder · 11 months

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A compilation of my Ragbros Headcanons thus far

Sleeping:

Kaeya sleeps on his side, but he never sleeps on his left side due to it making where his dominate eye would be covered and he couldn’t see any possible threats coming. Making it where he mostly sleeps on his right side so the eyepatch is in the pillow, and allowing him to clearly see anyone approaching him should he wake up. The only times he would sleep on his left side was when he was little and he and Diluc would share a bed because he felt safe and didn’t think he needed to constantly be on guard when his brother was by him.

And He prefers to hug something while he sleeps and curls up around it because he is touch starved.

Hair:

Kaeya had shorter hair when he arrived at Mond (similar cut to Dains and Albedo) but he grew it out so he could look like Crepus and Diluc.

Food:

He has a bad habit of eating properly. As in if he’s busy he will just push through the hunger until his task is complete. The other Knights know this so they bring him food, Lisa drags him away for tea time, and others have instructed Klee to go get him to take her to lunch because they know he wouldn’t let Klee go hungry and she makes him eat with her. One of Klee’s very important knight jobs is to take Kaeya to lunch, which she takes very seriously.

Kaeya is a grazer when it comes to eating. He nibbles on things throughout the day and prefers light snacks and meals compared to three heavy ones.

Diluc, however, is a hearty eater and likes to eat large protein-packed meals. He always was hungry growing up and would eat whenever it was offered.

Diluc always wanted to make sure kaeya was eating too, so he would always break off part of what he as eating when Kaeya didn’t order for himself and give it to him to nibble on. Their system made it where Diluc didn’t over eat, but Kaeya didn’t grow hungry later on.

Debts:

Kaeya hates owing debts. He will do everything in his power to pay someone back for helping him out, whether they know it or not. If you help him or he sees/hears about you helping someone he cares about you’re now on his radar and he will look for any opportunity to pay you back. Most of the time, he pays people back without them ever realizing it.

Someone was having an issue with a bully? Suddenly that bully won’t even look them in the eye anymore.

Another person was looking for a certain item and couldn’t find it anywhere? It magically appears in their mail one day.

Scared to walk home alone at night from work? Suddenly the Knights patrolling route has changed and you have an escort everyday.

Jean:

When they were teenagers Kaeya saw how overworked Jean was with the pressure of living to her mother’s expectations, so he would go out of his way to try and do things to help her relax and have fun such as:

-throwing water balloons at their superior offices and forcing him and Jean to run and hide so they didn’t get caught.

-catching a frog or some other animal and bringing them to show her (especially any turtles he found) because they made her smile and talk in a baby voice

-buying her her favorite snack and dropping them off on her shift and telling her the latest gossip he heard

-dragging her off to a midnight bonfire with Diluc where they roast marshmallows and swap ghost stories

Temperament:

Crepus is where Diluc gets his hotheadedness from. Crepus and Diluc’s love can grow too hot and turn into anger quickly (desire to protect others, frustration when someone doesn’t take care of themselves etc). And they are naturally loud people so they constantly have to check themselves so they don’t accidentally shout when excited about something or when they’re talking and joking.

Kaeya was the complete opposite and his fury goes cold and silent. And would be very reserved.

Crepus & Diluc really had to try to make sure they didn’t over-talk K when he first arrived and checked each other when one accidentally did it (not to be mean they just got excited and wanted to join the conversation). Kaeya slowly started getting a bit louder and C & D grew a bit softer.

Books:

Kaeya is a book worm. It first started off as a way to gather information about Mond without seeming suspicious, but turned into a genuine hobby as he grew.

As a kid he read more nonfiction: history of Mond, knights handbook, flower identifications, animal books (so he could discuss them with Diluc), gardening books (for Crepus), books about wine (for Crepus), fighting tactics, historical teyvat figures, barbatos history etc

But after his father died and Diluc left he found himself reading sappy fiction books with happy endings and found family. Where the hero always ends up in a happy ever after with their loved ones.

Lisa knows this and specifically gets books like this for him to read. They often discuss them together. Jean occasionally will too if she has time.

Animals:

Kaeya wasn’t the biggest fan of animals when he first arrived at Mond. They scared him, but Diluc was an animal whisperer/fanatic since birth. D realized that K was scared of them so made it his childhood mission to show K that (most) animals were nice.

He fact-dumped information to K. Explaining their behaviors and body language. Reading animal books and showing him how to properly interact with them Because K seemed to calm when he had info, instructions, and logic to help him understand.

Maybe he even got a pet tortoise because it was a slow moving animal that wouldn’t easily startle or bite. Allowing K the space he needed to easily get adjusted to it. Letting him see animals were good and kind.

D’s love for animals rubbed off on K. And now ppl find the Calvary Captain lovingly taking care of his horses and the stray cats of Mond.

Seashells:

What if on the day Diluc and Kaeya went seashell collecting when they were kids was the day Crepus asked Kaeya if he wanted to be adopted and Crepus planned a whole special day at the beach to ask him and celebrate and that is why Kaeya has kept the seashells this whole time because that’s when he became a Ragnvindr

#genshin impact #kayea #ragbros #diluc #genshin crepus #just some late night thoughts #maybe I'll write fics about these ideas one day

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