immemorialinsomnia
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Summary
Every time Hyperlaser passes by that same apartment complex, he finds a single black tulip on the doorstep of Apartment 303. Its petals are unmistakably melancholy, just like the Inphernal that flower had been picked for.
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- Part 2 of putting on my little tin foil hat
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The extent of his knowledge about Subspace was brief, sure, but Coil always thought he had worked on the crystals himself. Blackrock advertised it that way: how Subspace was this genius, solo inventor who created the faction’s newest advancements in technology. Now there was an image of the scientist's "lab partner" in front of him, someone who presumably worked with him on all of these endeavors.
So where was he now?
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Coil finds out about a certain doctor after a heist in Blackrock. Despite the risk, he decides to look further.
Series
- Part 2 of dances with fire
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“A blind man cannot lead a blind man, for they will both end up in the ditch”—it’s a sentiment Medkit has never believed in. After all, even if he were not as blind as his patients, he would still make the same mistake of falling in that pit.
Series
- Part 1 of putting on my little tin foil hat
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The Biograft's wires stirred with tension. Its creator's words were scorched into its code, each sour inflection and vigorous sound converted into readable memory files. Some glowing, innate part of itself convulsed and wavered at the information, and the robot could not correctly identify the feeling.
"Look at where you stand. Medkit also stood there, once."
Series
- Part 1 of dances with fire
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Magolor invites Taranza to a desolate place in the middle of Cookie Country, promising 'the best flowers he's ever laid his eyes on.' Taranza is given no other information besides this fact.
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collection of phighting character studies, mainly requests
- Words:
- 3,537
- Works:
- 2
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Summary
Maybe nothing will change, and you've wasted your time in this escapade of burning desires. But the hope and belief is that something will.
(bunch of experimental, scarcely connected fics, primarily medkit-centered)
- Words:
- 17,723
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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A past paved with bloodshed, now set in the snow. Here he stands in the dunes, split two ways.
A family of teal, gold, and crimson. A family of staring eyes, of a foreign god.
A family of white and red. A family of bright feathers, of unexplainable trust.
Medkit can't begin to guess what his future will be, but can this 16 year old red bird of a demon stop talking to strangers on the street? Sword is going to get himself killed one day.
Series
- Part 2 of The Art of Trust
Bookmarked by immemorialinsomnia
06 Nov 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
screaming crying i love lost temple duo