#triger warning

[1lemonlady]

fourx but freaky😳

and I put a tw in the hashtags so don't complain😶

[appleandcinnamon]

Sonic Prime: Refraction.

The ghost of what it was.

He really tried to forget about him.

He can swear on everything he owns on it.

But his absence just kept hurting like an open wound, bleeding constantly with every day he went without knowing if he was okay, or if he still thought about him, because it seemed that recreating all those moments was the only thing Nine himself could do nowadays.

Eventually, instead of trying to forget, he tried to replace him, a logic solution, he said. Nine upgraded his robotic version of his friend in a desperate attempt to feel that warm again, but it didn't take long before the fox just snaped and destroyed the mechanical hedgehog, for he wasn't cheerful enough, strong enough, warm enough...

He just wasn't enough.

The fox just couldn't take it anymore, he was so frustrated, depressed and lonely that it took just the realization of the fact that what he searched for could not be replaced to make him try and enf it all for good.

A couple deep and desperate cuts with one of his work tools and soon enough red started seeping at an alarming pace.

Nine didn't panic, he didn't even seemed to care.

He just leaned his back against a wall and let himself fall slowly to the ground, sitting there while he waited.

He thought he deserved it.

He thought that would be the only redemption he would know.

But while bleeding out, a familiar figure presented to him.

-Hey- A glowing, translucent hedgehog gazed down at him with an expression too casual for the occasion, Nine stared at it for a moment, as if taking the image in before talking.

-What are you doing here?-He spoke, voice devoid of emotion.

The figure crouched in front of him and playfully removed a strand of hair from his face.

-We both know that's not the important question here- The figure said, a gentle smile as he paused while taking softly one of Nines hands in his:

-I thought it was the other way around- The blue hedgehog laughed.

But Nine just sighed.

-It seems it's not- He stated. Maybe he had the brains, but out of the two of them, he knew he needed Sonic more than Sonic needed him.

The Hedgehog just smiled, his presence as warm as he remembered him.

-Come on Nine, where did the hot headed, persistent and determined fox go? You were quite reckless-

Nine shivered, it was getting cold, but still, he answered.

-I'm not the same as before-

Sonic chuckled.

-You're not a good liar, I know you, you're stronger than everyone thinks, including yourself it seems-

Nine gritted his teeth feeling a knot forming on his throat, and for the first time in the conversation, he raised his voice.

-What would you know!? You're not even here!!-

There was a moment of silence.

Just a moment.

And then Sonic laughed, warm and sweet as he did when a friend said something he founded funny.

-Let me stop you right there, because you're wrong, Nine- Sonic said, putting his hand on top of the fox's chest, a bright smile shining on his face.-I'm right here-

Nine seemed confused, that was the cheesiest thing he had heard someone say, was this some kind of joke? Sonic seemed to notice his puzzled expression, for he began to explain himself.

-You see, the bond you and I share is something that lasts forever, the moments we lived and the emotions we felt will keep on existing as long as they're remembered- He spoke, gentle and firm, as if he was preaching an unspoken truth.-So, I might not be here physically, but as long as you are, our love will keep existing, though it's up to you to decide what you want to do with that-

There was silence again, Nine's gaze dropped to the floor for an instant while he meditated about those words...all those memories, all the moments...he wanted to keep on holding the hope Sonic had brought into his life even though he wasn't there anymore...he couldn't bring himself to even think about letting his feelings turn to dust with himself.

He gazed at the figure that continued crouched in front of him, watching him with a shine to his emerald eyes that the fox new very well.

Finally, Nine laughed.

A dry short sound that was paired with his heavy breathing, still, his expression was a mixture of gratefulness and resignation.

-You know? I hate when you're right-

He murmured smiling softly, his vision was starting to get blurry with black spots, but his eyes didn't fail to catch the bright smile of Sonic as he chuckled.

-What can I say, that's just what I am most of the time!- The hedghog responded, then his face softened, his hand moving from Nine's chest to his head, ruffling gently the strands of blonde hair.

-Now, go, you know what to do-

The fox sighed, closing his eyes as if he could etch the sensation in his very soul. When he gazed back, Sonic wasn't there anymore.

Nine stared at the empty spot for a brief moment.

-Well then...better get started now-

The fox spoke to himself before starting trying to pull himself up from the ground, wich proved to be a more difficult task than he thought.

His arms and legs were drained of energy and warmth, so he had to rely on leaning against the crystals on the wall to try and get up, and even then, a loud ringing on his sensitive ears pierced through his head making the task even more difficult. Once he managed to stand, his mind quickly raced, he had to act fast, the body held approximately six litters of blood which could take minutes to completely drain, he wasn't aware of how much time had passed already...

And this speech was so uncomfortably familiar that made him inevitable to think this whole situation sure was a cruel irony from destiny.

The fox pushed those thoughts to the back for now, there was no time to waste right now.

Nine put a foot in front of the other as best as he could, his objective, to reach his workstation table, and so, slowly he stumbled his way towards the cold metal where he always assembled his creations, which wasn't very far but in his condition he felt it as if it was miles away.

And everything was just so goddam cold.

With a final effort, Nine reached the table crashing onto it, gears and metal scraps flying at the impact, the fox quickly searched trough his tools, screwdrivers, wrenches, tweezers...where was it? Where was it?!

His hand struck an object on the border of the table and Nine managed to catch it before it rolled of it, his eyes shining with recognition as he finally found what he was searching for.

His welder.

It was a piece he had modified himself, a laser in place of a flame for better precision.

He knew he had no time, the bleeding would not stop alone and the trail of red he left behind him was proof enough, though it wasn't as if he had hoped it would.

Nine tried to close his fingers around the tool to hold it, but his strength wasn't enough, his fingers curled without any pressure wich resulted in the welder hitting the table more than once, the fox growled at the uselessness of his limbs but he couldn't really blame them, he couldn't even feel them anymore.

-Come on...- He mumbled, making an enormous effort to try again, and luckily, this time he managed to lift it, and grasp it strong enough so it wouldn't slip. Good. But now came the fun part.

He stared at the tool while he felt his stomach drop, he wasn't a stranger ti pain, but this...this was going to be a whole new level and for a moment...he doubted.

Was it worth the pain if he was going to be alone anyways?

But he couldn't give up...he wouldn't give up...

Nine clumsily positioned the welder over his open scar, blood still gushing, he gritted his teeth preparing for what was to come.

He turned it on.

The pain was immediate, his flesh burned and seared making him see red, fresh tears streamed down his face as he tried to swallow the scream of agony that was rising in his throat, still, he didn't stop, he moved the welder with trembling hands as the laser cauterized the wound, his legs shaked as the heat charred his skin, and by the end of it, one of his wounds was already closed.

He gasped, air barely getting into his lungs, sweat dripping from his forehead mixing with his tears, he dropped the welder on the table while his body struggled to stay awake after the shock.

Yeah, it had hurt as much as he had expected.

But it wasn't finished yet, there still was the other one.

Nine grasped the tool again, whimpering softly, he was tired...so so tired already...yet this was the final push, he wasn't even sure if he was going to survive this, his head was spinning and his whole body was complaining, he could feel unconsciousness crawling slowly into him.

-I have to do it...- He mumbled with difficulty, his fingers closing more firmly around the welder.-I have to...Sonic...-

The tears that haven't stopped at all from the start intensified as he positioned the tool over his other wrist, his eyes reflecting the intense fear inside of him, he tried not to think about it as he closed his eyes and pressed the "on" button.

This time was not different from the other, the smell of burning flesh turned his stomach as the heat closed his desperate cuts, but as strong as he was, he couldn't help but let out a piercing shriek mixture of his physical and emotional pain, both burning him to the core in a voragine of sensations that made him want to tear out his own flesh if with that he could stop the pain.

Finally, he dropped his tool wich fell carelesslyto the floor, his whole body trembling with exhaustion and pain.

He had done it, at last, messily and desperate, but the wounds were not bleeding anymore.

Still.

Nine felt the coldness grow further, his vision fading to black. He coul not see, he could not speak, hell, he couldn't even think!

The fox tried to steady himself, to find a place to sit down before what he knew would happen would occur, but as he had discovered that always happened to him, he didn't had the grace of time.

His legs gave out making him hit the ground, he couldn't register even the pain from it, everything felt heavy and the toll that this whole thing had taken on him was too much already.

Maybe, just maybe...he just needed rest.

And so, Nine closed his eyes, his last thoughts being a pair of emerald eyes and a soft smile that felt like home.

_________________________

Hi, so, yeah! This is just a part of the story I'm writing for my AU Sonic Prime: Refraction, you can take it as a flashback to the worst part of Nine's depressive state, he did survived, barely, and at last, he never tried to do anything again.

I hope you like it, I know it's a tad too tragic but angst it's one of my specialties, I would love to have some feedback on it though, so feel free to comment or message me about it! Love you guys ❤️

[jestersjitters]

He is coming to Patreon soon

Open Commissions HERE

[ivatxtxt]

!!TW!! JOSUYASU ANGST

Translation::

Eng:—I would like to hug you like then

But for that I will have to dig up your body

Your icy bones are somewhere there at the bottom

Flowers will grow in this mourned land

[does-the-turtle-get-hurt]

Apothecary diaries:

Set in country reminiscient of China. Softshell turtles are revired for their medicinal properties in many asian countries so it isn't suprising it would apear in the show treating about medicines

So in second season ep. 11 (The hunt) we can see Maomao consuming a cooked softshell turtle, so definitely trigger warning for that.

[dangerouslyzany-8]

Across Their Memory’s

so this is part of my fic from fan fiction.net if this does well I’ll post more of it! some stuff in this fic might be triggering proceed with caution

Across Their Memory’s

by: dangerouslyzany8

Chapter 1: Far Away, Long Ago

As Morph opened their eyes onto the bleak winter clearing they furrowed their brow. This was definitely not their bedroom. The last thing they can remember was closing their eyes and falling asleep, plain and simple. They took in their surroundings, the cold crisp air brushed past their skin, they looked down the snow was up to their ankles and yet they couldn’t feel any wetness on their skin. The clearing was surrounded by dark thorns tangled together with tall trees looming over that. Morph sighed as they looked around once more. They were going to have to figure out a way to escape.

They were late again, Wolverine sighed as he looked at the clock on the wall. Morph was almost always late but the danger room session had ended ten minutes ago and Wolverine was getting a bit confused. Morph never let themself sleep that long into the afternoon, or at least they were almost always in time for lunch. Wolverine decided that it was time for him to take action. 

Knocking on Morph’s door he rolled his eyes, waiting another thirty seconds before deeming it enough warning and busting open the door. The room was hideous, Logan normally kept his room clean due to his enhanced smell but this was just disgusting. There were clothes all over the floor, including a pink floral set of pajamas. The only part of the room that smelled fine was a small corner where a vanity sat, a few different perfume bottles lay scattered on it each emitting a smell that gave off a certain scent. It took Wolverine only a few seconds to think of what he was smelling, the mix of scents was exactly what Morph smelled like. A mix of rose and sandalwood gave it away, although a subtle undertone of chocolate made the complete smell. Eventually, Logan looked towards the bed where he assumed Morph would be laying, evidently he was right since the sleeping form of a body was lying on the bed. Logan carefully maneuvered around the mess on the floor until he reached them.

Morph approached the wall of thorns, it would be easy they thought, choose a form and leap over the thorns. But when they tried to shift they found they were stuck in their normal form. They decided to just try to slowly move through the thorns and that it would be the best plan of action. As they approached the barrier of thorns they felt slightly woozy, they pushed through and the moment they touched the thorns their vision blacked out.

Logan’s eyes widened at the sight of Morph’s face switching forms rapidly, first their plain white form then their normal human face, then a blur of others, they were all scrunched up in, was it pain or confusion. Wolverine couldn’t tell, he had never been good at that, deeming it wasn’t normal he picked them up bridal style and carried them out the room. Caring them to the main care room, Logan had to adjust his grip every few seconds due to their rapidly changing form. He eventually got there, setting Morph down on one of the beds. The restraints started to go out but Beast who had silently walked over stopped them. “I think it would be better without them, in this state of theirs,” he told Logan as the restraints shrunk back into the bed. “Okay, whatever you say, bub,” Logan responded with a gruff nod. “Do you know what happened to them?” Beast questioned with a glance at the door. Wolverine just shook his head no as Professor X entered the room. “What happened, I felt a disturbance!” his voice was taught with worry as he wheeled his chair quickly into the room. 

Young Morph opened his eyes in his bedroom, agony ripping through his body as it changed rapidfire into different people from his experiences. His mother, father, the checkout clerk from the supermarket, different schoolmates, and several others all ripping through his body before he could comprehend he had changed. His lips parted in a silent scream as he clutched at his body trying to stop it from morphing. Soon it slowed to a stop and he lay there panting as his body was racked with sobs, tears running down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and curled up in a ball wishing it had never happened.

Okay that’s all for now! If you liked it then you should say smthing about it in the comments if didn’t like it you can not say anything at all cause I don’t need that negativity!

[salkiisdead]

Being home sucks. Especially cuz I'm trans, it's a reminder that until I have a way to escape I really can't do anything. Because as much as these people are family they would happily kill me (they have tired before when I said I wasn't Christan lmao) or id want to end my self. Worst part is I don't even get angry about it anymore I can't use the fact that this sucks to do better. Atleast it gives me cool art ideas. I'm so close to being able to get a job. So close to finally being free. Just got a survive a bit longer.

[facetiae-o]

Чтож. Данную работу я выполнил за часа два-три в вечер пятницы, после мучался с цветовой передачей на разных устройствах. По какой-то причине Ефим Маркович решил, что он теперь Уильям Афтон, и стал фиолетовым, причем ярко-фиолетовым. Но, нет, Ефим Маркович, Вы не Уильям Афтон, чтобы иметь фиолетовую гамму, Вы должны быть СИНИМ. Работа, которую Вы, читатель, видите, несколько отредактирована, но всё равно Ефим Маркович на ней недостаточно синий.

Сейчас я поною еще немного. Я посчитал часы своей учебы и был несколько шокирован. Не считая часов моей борьбы с домашними заданиями (это где-то часа два) , в день я учусь по десять или одиннадцать часов, и данный нонсенс длится всю неделю. Я не знаю каким образом дотяну до конца этого учебного года, но осознаю наверняка, что это вынужденная мера, так как иначе не сдам ОГЭ. Благо, оказалось, что для продолжения учебы в гуманитарном профиле, мне не придется уходить в другую школу, ведь предмет, который нужно будет сдавать, это обществознание. Вот только и здесь не все так просто, вполне может оказаться, что обязательных предметов для гуманитарного профиля будет два: английский и обществознание. А с английским я не дружу по той же причине, что и с математикой (я несколько лет, прошу прощения за выражение, иначе никак не описать, пинал хуи).

Так еще и художка преподносит потрясающие сюрпризы, в этом заключительном году никак нельзя пропускать ни дня, так как каждая работа будет защитываться, а за отсутствие будет ставиться двойка.

О, и еще одна умопомрачительная новость: я заболел.

Господи, когда же это все кончится?

Ну, ладно, черт с этим всем, думаю, пора перейти к Фиме.

В детстве его матушка крайне часто срывалась на нем, но он все равно крайне любил ее. Любил её той незапятнанной любовью, какой только может любить родителя ребенок, не видящий света впереди. Возможно, он понимал, что его матушка ужасна, возможно, нет, но этот ребенок не мог иначе, на тот момент времени у него не было больше никого.

Фима видел, как его отец избивал маму, он видел, как ей тяжело, как она страдает, бьется в истерике и рыданиях, пока, как Ольга думала, её никто не видит. Вот только дети видят и слышат всё. Глупо считать, что взрослый человек способен утаить это "всё" от своего ребенка. Как-то так повелось, что чужие голоса отчетливо слышны в другой комнате, как-то так повелось, что, стоя в тени, дитя видит и слышит абсолютно всё, о чем говорят его родители, каждое слово, каждую заминку, каждое изменение интонации голоса. Фима видел страдания матери, он сопоставлял их со своими, Фима не видел разницы и думал, что они с мамой одинаковы, они из одного мира, они понимают друг друга, как никто иной. Дитя думал, что мама срывается на нем, чтобы показать свой мир, чтобы он понял ее и стал таким же, чтобы они были вместе, только вдвоем против ужасающего мира. Фима любил свою маму, он ни за что в жизни не хотел, чтобы она осталась одна, чтобы ей было больно. Фима был готов на все ради человека, который поделился с ним половинкой мира.

Юные, совсем детские, незапятнанные руки тянутся к спине человека, что был столь ненавистен. Пальцы мальчика, ещё совсем ребенка, практически притрагиваются к грязной, засаленной рубашке, которую носил мужчина, находящийся сейчас в дичайшем алкогольном опьянение, он был настолько пьян, что даже не заметил сына, подкравшегося сзади. Фима практически готов толкнуть отца, он практически решился, но какой-то глубинный страх и нерешительность останавливают его. Ему действительно страшно. Данный поступок в любом случае поделит жизнь мальчика на до и после. Для Фимы неизвестность куда страшнее ужасной стабильности, ведь жить с постоянно невменяемым отцом он уже привык: Фима знает, когда лучше не попадаться ему на глаза, когда стоит смолчать, когда бежать, а когда молча сносить побои, ведь если заскулить, проронить слово или, не дай Бог, огрызнуться, гнев отца станет лишь сильнее, а удары жестче. Вот только такая жизнь не может больше продолжаться. Ублюдок, мерзкое отребье, пообещал, что в следующий раз убьет маму. Фима уже давно научился различать угрозы отца по степени их подлинности, он чувствовал, на этот раз отец не шутил. А значит, он должен быть устранен до того момента, когда сдержит обещание. Фима не желал оставаться в одиночестве, не желал расставаться с мамой, что приоткрыла ему дверь в их общий мир. Поэтому он решился на убийство.

В этот вечер все было практически обыденно, отец с матерью кричали друг на друга, зубоскалили и вновь все сводили к рукоприкладству, но один нюанс все-таки был нов: родители в разгаре ссоры вышли на лестничную клетку. Ольга, разрывая расстояние с мужем, спустилась по лестнице к подъездному окну, а сам мужчина остался стоять у двери квартиры, которая была самой крайней, аккурат у лестницы, ведущей вниз. Ефим видел и слышал всё, также он понимал, что наиболее удачного момента может не представиться, поэтому дитя начал медленно красться к отцу, стараясь не издать ни звука. На самом деле душевные метания Ефима, описанные выше, не заняли и нескольких секунд, они понеслись вихрем в голове мальчишки, но тут же были подавлены. Ефим, предварительно разбежавшись, со всей силы толкнул отца с лестницы. Он знал, что тот должен непременно умереть, иначе их с матерью жизни станут еще более походить на ад, поэтому взял с собой небольшой молоток на случай, если придется добивать. Но Фиме повезло, его отец был крайне сильно пьян, также не исключено, что в его крови были наркотики, поэтому мужчина кубарем полетел вниз по лестнице, не имея возможности зацепиться за что-либо своими заплетающимися пальцами, а после крайне неудачно упал, сломав себе шею. Фима застыл на краю лестницы, в ужасе смотря на тело своего отца, распластавшееся внизу. Он прибывал в оцепенение, Фима не до конца осозновал, что только что совершил, все это казалась для него иллюзией, странным сном, но это было реальностью. Раньше, еще до свершения задуманного, дитя думал, что весь мир изменится: сначала он замрет на мгновение, а после часовая стрелка продолжит свой ход в обратном направление, мир перевернется вверх ногами, птицы заговорят по-человечьи, а они с мамой станут счастливы. Но в глобальном плане ничего не стало иным, изменился лишь мир Ефима и Ольги: он треснул, еще не разбился громогласно на тысячи осколков, но уже пустил трещину.

Ангельские чистые руки Ефима приняли багровый цвет навечно.

Ольга же, застыв в немом ужасе, медленно переводила взгляд с тела своего мужа на сына, стоявшего наверху лестницы. Она видела его взгляд: пустой, темный, практически бездушный. В тот день Ольга начала бояться своего сына.

Милиция работала как обычно, поэтому данный случай официально объявили несчастным.

¡Чтож. Думаю, пора отметить, что я не поддерживаю насилие любого рода, а весь текст, представленный выше, является художественным вымыслом!

"Repress and restrain

Подави и сдержи,

Steal the pressure and the pain

Завладей давлением и болью,

Wash the blood off your hands

Смой кровь с рук -

This time she won't understand

На этот раз она не поймёт..."