#oc tag: leithe

[fractured-shield]

+ scene 6 (Leithe and Idhren, fourth chronologically)

The final year before Nar-thelyr’s abandonment passed just the same as the aftermath of any great loss: slowly, as if time itself seemed reluctant to move on from the death-tainted victory, and at the same time unsettlingly quick, when looked back upon, as all the days seemed to blur together, indistinguishable under the weight of the mountains’ piercing chill and the ache in his heart and his bones.

And Leithe—beloved, sun-bright, stubborn Leithe—had been there for as much of it as she could, departing from Tarnuvin alone as soon as she’d grown suspicious of the reassurances in his letters. She was something real to take hold of, like laying with the warm unmovable earth at one’s back, like a melody worked so deep that it melds inextricably with the mind and the hands. Like a sailor’s guiding star, too bright to be hidden by even the cruelest storm.

It would’ve been sometime in the fourth month, Idhren thought (because Tathran had just dismissed the last of Maithyr’s officers, because when he had thrown their severance pay requests on Idhren’s desk and demanded he sign them, Idhren had been staring at his books and thinking of a Silornic spring festival they’d just passed uncelebrated for the first year in centuries). Yes, four months, since Leithe had begun her correspondence with Hal and his wife, had set in motion their move to Tarnuvin’s officers’ quarters—together—and begun talking of shared bookshelves and teacups and quiet nights by the fire, to force a bit of her unyielding sunniness into him and give him something to look forward to when all the world seemed an inescapable deluge, constant reminders of loss, when his mind and body both seemed nothing more than a festering wound.

But the year had passed just the same, as all years do, even when the passage of time seems only to desecrate the memory of those left behind by it. Like a wound, the mind can heal. Going through the motions of pretending to be capable and sound is no different than dressing a wound, really. Even if all that remains feels like ugly and aching scar tissue, to scar is to heal. Or so Leithe kept saying.

The trip back to Tarnuvin passed much the same as the year before it, only with the disorienting sense of time slipping away like tendrils of smoke even more apparent, as the distance between them and Nar-thelyr grew. Idhren didn’t remember much of the road back (it wasn’t home yet to either of them. Leithe’s home was reduced to crumbling ruin. Idhren couldn’t remember the last place that had felt like home). He remembered dozing on her shoulder by the roadside more than once, and the crick he’d get in his neck afterwards from the difference in height between them. He remembered her horse balking at a bridge, and waking to a dusting of snow one morning, light and early in the season, and further south the fat droning bees she’d let climb along her sleeve, and the fresh-caught fish, skin crisp from the fire, the day their road reached the Lutebrim’s banks.

But beyond those moments, isolated and few, their long journey to something not-quite-home passed far too quickly, and all at once Idhren found himself standing before an unfamiliar door, Leithe’s tight grip on his hand the only thing he was sure was real.

Leithe entered first. She’d gotten the key from her old rooms on their way from the stables, and as Idhren had stood awkwardly in the doorway his eyes had lingered on the emptiness of the space he’d visited so often. Hal and Lynorn had gotten everything moved and prepared already. He had no reason to go to his own previous quarters, but he imagined they looked much the same.

He followed behind her, letting the door click softly shut behind both of them. It was strange, to pass through Tarnuvin’s familiar gates, its familiar stables and long halls, at the end of such a long journey, only to come to a place so unfamiliar and new. Though—no, that wasn’t right, either. On the bookshelf opposite the fireplace, he recognized books from his rooms and hers, and the chair with its sagging upholstery was hers, and the square table and mismatched chairs were his. Opening off of the main room were three doors, instead of the one he was used to. There was a second bedroom at Leithe’s insistence, so they could each have space for desks and shelves outside of the room they would share. She’d argued that the odd hours the both of them kept would cause problems otherwise, with one of them working by lamplight as the other tried to sleep.

The quarters were comfortable, he thought—windowless, like every room in the interior of Tarnuvin’s main complex, but after so long in Nar-thelyr he would feel ill at ease without the heavy weight of the mountain overhead. Idhren set his bags on the table—one of clothes, and a larger one full of books and papers that he couldn’t leave to rot in the abandoned stronghold. He thought to take Leithe’s bags as well, but—

She was already across the room, rearranging something on the bookshelf. She set it down as quickly as she’d begun and snatched one of her own bags, hands quick on its buckle as she began pulling things from it.

“Easy, you’ve got plenty of time to settle in, there’s no need to do it all at once,” he laughed, until he saw her raise a hand to rub at her eyes roughly, and in an instant the familiar clutch of worry ached cold and tight in his chest.

“…Leithe?”

She kept her back turned to him, as she set aside a stack of books and began unfolding and re-folding whatever clothes she could reach.

Idhren couldn’t imagine what she was thinking—and that was the problem, wasn’t it? She’d put up with him with no complaint for so long, and here he was, too caught up in the fog of his own melancholy to have even noticed her own hurt. He really was awful to her, wasn’t he?

Before he could speak, or even sort out if he should speak at all, Leithe crossed the room again to rearrange something on the mantle.

“Sorry—“ she started, in a voice more unsure and small than he had ever heard from her, and the sound of it lanced through him like a wound. If only he could figure out some way to…something, anything that wouldn’t hurt her further. He stood still, unmoving by the table and watched her.

“I don’t—I’m being ridiculous, ignore me, I don’t even know why I’m upset,” she tried to laugh, her back still turned to him. “I never even cried when Ngelorim fell, you know? It doesn’t seem fair to them, does it—to cry now, over nothing—“

She set some salvaged trinket or other onto the bookshelf, set a stack of books on its side next to it. “—less than nothing, because this is supposed to be happy, everything’s fine, and… I know I’m going about this all wrong,” she continued her stubborn, near-frantic sorting of books, thumping a large cloth-backed text onto the stack as well. “—I must seem absolutely awful to you.”

It wasn’t like he could say anything on the matter of grieving properly either, could he? Even a year later, he still felt that his grief for Maithyr was too great, improper for his status and for the nature of their acquaintance. It seemed unimaginable for Leithe’s grief to be wrong, though. He suspected that this was grief for Ngelorim, for all that had been lost with it, just coming a bit late. It also seemed so incredibly—well, like herself, to stop up all thought of it, consciously or not, and then finally become aware of it so much later once it had grown beyond being ignored. Her stubbornness was quite famous, and she never did anything by halves.

There he went again, spending too long with his thoughts while there was something that needed doing, a coward even in moments like these.

Idhren still couldn’t think of the right thing to say—it was ironic, in exactly the way he’d expect of himself, ever faltering and useless when it counted. He could calm the tempers of kings, could placate arguing generals and attend the whims of courtiers without offense, but he couldn’t find the words to still the tears of the person he held most dear, even after all she’d done for him.

Leithe was sort of terrible at keeping up the act of being alright. He suspected it was more out of obstinance, an argument with her own emotions at this point, and one she was losing. Her back was still turned to him as she kept up the flurry of pointless tidying, but she was shaking with swallowed-down sobs and still trying pointlessly to scrub away the tears that fell more quickly than she could get to them.

Idhren crossed the room in a few long strides and wrapped his arms around her to still her restless, unthinking motion. She fought against him for a moment, and even after she’d stopped, her back trembled against his chest with the quick breaths of held-back tears. He held her closer, the brooch at her collar poking at his arm and her curls tickling at his nose as he fit his body around her own, hoping there was any comfort he could give her.

“Oh, Leithe.”

She forced back another sob behind clenched teeth through will alone and brought her hands up to clutch at his forearms where they crossed over her chest.

“Sorry,” she laughed. Only Leithe could laugh through tears at a time like this and still sound genuine.

They stood there, before the empty hearth and surrounded by half-unpacked bags, until Leithe’s breath began to come more evenly and to shake a little less. She leaned back against him, some of the nervous tension going out of her body little by little.

“You should rest, if you can,” he tried hesitantly. They were both dirty from the road but at the moment it didn’t seem to matter. “You’ve not done anything that needs an apology. You’ll feel better when you wake, don’t you think?” It was a conversation they’d had often, the other way around, and he’d always had to admit that she was right, as pointless as sleep seemed to him before he’d found it.

He felt her nod, just a little, and loosed his arms from around her to take her hand. “Everything will still be here. I’ll help you put it away however you like, and you can tell me whatever you’re thinking, or you can say nothing, I don’t mind. But—let me hold you awhile first, let it wait.”

She nodded again, and as she dried still-falling tears with her sleeve, Leithe squeezed his hand and gave another little laugh. “Welcome home, and all that, right?”

[imamupp3t]

“This is the face of a man who makes people cry over two old men.”

I’m having way too much fun drawing your persona @ajoure your art is legit my life, it’s too good. Sorry if I’m bothering you.

[deadbirdstudios]

Um. Hi. I've been playing post canon au toys. 💥

[archaospetryx]

Posting a work in progress for the last of my ppt ocs thr Tormentula toyline, Octavio Tormentula aka Mary Anne.

They were Arthur/Otto’s closest friend when they were human but grew distant after be o Ming a bigger body just so Otto could save their life(planning if they didn’t die so easily during the theatre incident bc that’s where Otto finds their body and takes them to Harley to save them))

They’re an arizona blonde tarantula which contradicts the Goliath bird eater species Octavia and Otto are

To show that they’re not related by blood in the toyline story and to show they’re much different compared to the two

Harley removed their mouth/the ability to speak to make sure they don’t tell on anyone the truth of what happened in the theatre incident

But quickly found out that after interacting with the Prototype, Vio learned how to messily adapt to using their cassette tape to speak but struggled to form coherent sentences so even tho they gave up in speaking up bc he threatened them with Cole’s life, Harley was supposed to kill them/get rid of them until he was turned into experiment 1354

As Mary Anne, she is the girlfriend and future spouse of Cole Vaughn(Guard 2 from the break time tape)) and acted as a caregiver to the toys and kids, thus meeting Arthur and helping him cope with the work

Octavio is the most passive of the three but can still be considered passive-aggressive because in-game if the player follows them while using the voices of; Harley, Leith, Otto, and Arthur to speak, they will attack as they only use their voices as a response to see who will approach the voices bc normally they run away from these sounds and will perceive you as a threat if you respond to those voices

Out of the three, they’re extremely malnourished for having no mouth to consume nutrients so they use their pedipalps to suck up fluids as much as they can

Before THoJ Octavio was much healthier getting the necessary vitamins and nutrients via dextrose

And a small video I tried to make showcasing how their cassette tape works as their mode of speaking. They’re almost like the prototype but the way they use the voices of other people is messy, sort of like splicing the voices together and gives them less chance to modify the tone when speaking👇👇

^Note that I spliced the voice lines from the game to prove my point how Octavio speaks with the cassette tape and pre recorded voices they took on their daily routine. I DID NOT USE AI, all I did was splice the voice lines

[just-some-friendly-fun]

Ooohghhh haunted by the thoughts of polyamorous relationship with Leith and Harley ooOough haunted by the doomed polyamory trio,,, ooOoouhgh

guh [explodes]

[batdiangelo]

CALLING ALL POPPY PLAYTIME FANS

if you like poppy playtime enough to be scrolling the webs looking for content to comfort you after Chapter 4, you're kinda in the right place.

I recently watched Jacksepticeye's entire playthrough of all the chapters and decided to create a character. the first three chapters of her story is on ao3! you can read it here! I put a lot of time into creating the chapter order, the timeline and more. I really hope you enjoy it!

[ultraswagggg]

layla content for the one singular enjoyer featuring harley and my disdain for leith that is so prominent that i dont even wanna draw him

[queerdetectiveblue]

what kind of art would someone make about you?

thanks for the tag @grapecaseschoices !!🥰

tagging: @sunshineandviolets @sosolenoo @chroniclesinlacuna @dumortains (no pressure!) and anyone who wants to 💕

Charlotte: films

you are wild and there’s no way for your essence to be captured in a frozen format. you are a character and the only way to describe you is to capture you in motion. you are electric. people are naturally drawn to you because you exude confidence. everything you do, you seem to know what your next step is. you are the muse to many, even if you don't know it, but deep down you do. people tend to fall in love with the idea of which i'm sure can be exhausting.

Ali: music

you are a breath of fresh air. you are soft and free. you disappear as quickly as you appear, and everyone wishes you had stayed around longer than you did. your voice is what makes people fall in love. everything you say is in harmonies and codes, and only the most experienced listeners can fully understand you. your presence is always enjoyed but you aren’t always given the praise you deserve; people will let you stay in the background. all you want is for someone to really listen to you.

Leith: poetry

you choose your words carefully and your words will be heard. you’re smart as hell. you know it and so does everyone else and you carry yourself with a sort of confidence. you’re a bit of an artist yourself, even if unintentional. you can find beauty in mundanity but you also know when to be a realist. people fall in love with you because you are a confident mystery and they're dying to find out more. you fear that this attraction that people have to you is based purely in curiosity and nothing else.

Emma: novels

you fall in love easily and hard, and you are the image that pops into someone’s brain when they think of a love interest. you are a romantic and find yourself falling in love a hundred times a day because your imagination is wild and certainly knows how to get the best of you. you are soft and delicate and need to be handled with care, because a heartbreak would break you into a million pieces. you don’t want much else except to be loved and to love. you want to live out your wildest dreams, and the person that loves you can't help but let their imagination run wild with you.

Jacky: films

you are wild and there’s no way for your essence to be captured in a frozen format. you are a character and the only way to describe you is to capture you in motion. you are electric. people are naturally drawn to you because you exude confidence. everything you do, you seem to know what your next step is. you are the muse to many, even if you don't know it, but deep down you do. people tend to fall in love with the idea of which i'm sure can be exhausting.

[fractured-shield]

scene 4 (Leithe and Hal and Idhren, sixth chronologically)

“Did you think I’d just let you run off again, the instant you got back? It’s been months, and you haven’t even let me greet you properly.” Leithe set a cup of tea on one of the few bare spots of his desk, the steam rising from it visible in the dim light of the mirrored lantern set nearby. “At least drink something warm, for the headache I’m certain you’re being too stubborn to mention.”

Idhren wished she’d keep her voice down, but despite the ache in his temples—yes, she was right, as usual—his tense posture loosened a bit as she set a hand on his back.

“What the hell sort of work is this important anyway?”

Ah, but she knew it wasn’t about the work, just as he did. She was far kinder than he deserved, and so she let him pretend for a little longer.

“Let it wait until morning, let yourself rest for once, will you? The weather’s been awful.”

He turned aside to cough into a handkerchief. “Yes, I’d noticed.” He left the first part of her comment go unanswered, because it was a conversation they wouldn’t me having if she didn’t already guess what his answer would be.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick again. Get some rest, you stubborn bastard.” She rubbed his back and the touch had him shivering—just that, mind, no other cause.

“I’m alright, Leithe.”

He’d been riding through the icy rain of late winter since yesterday morning, as the council convoy made their way back from Ilgost. Once he’d gotten home, he’d peeled himself from his armor and thrown on some dry clothes, and then left again for the Third Watch storeroom to see what work had piled up while he and his Second-officer had been gone.

Leithe draped herself across his back to get a look at what he was reading and embrace him at the same time. The closeness let her speak more quietly, and in a soft voice, right against his ear, she cut to the quick of it.

“Nothing’s going to happen, love. We’re alright. Everyone’s here, everyone’s fine, there’s no news to wait for. You can rest if you like—even if you don’t sleep, it’s better than this.”

He knew as much, logically, but the part of his mind that had spent near two hundred years at this game didn’t care much for logic. He coughed again, and tried once or twice to clear his throat before remembering the tea in front of him. It was still a bit too warm, he found.

“This week’s logs for the river guard-posts haven’t been finished yet. I’ll be back as soon as I recheck the entries from the first few.”

“They aren’t due for two more days, I know your work better than that,” Leithe said under her breath. She pulled away but stayed next to him, rifling through the first stack of papers she could reach—keeping them in order, of course, but helping herself to them just the same. “And these—even longer, I hope you weren’t planning on finishing them tonight as well.”

Without waiting for an answer, Leithe turned towards the open doorway, towards the storeroom that lay across the hall.

“Hal! Hal, is there any particular reason that my husband is filing reports in the fucking dark, instead of being at home in bed as he should?”

Hal shouted back just as cheerfully, coming to stand in the doorway as he did. “He’s my commanding officer, obviously, and I can’t stop him if that’s what he wants. Is that reason satisfactory enough for you?”

“Fuck off, that’s never stopped you before and we all know it.” She crossed her arms in pretended anger as Hal calmly kept at undoing the buckles of one of the pieces of armor he had been putting away.

“Ah, you’ve got me there. He said he’d just hold the papers out of my reach if I tried to take them from him, if you can believe it. I’d hoped you’d be along to help me convince him.”

For a long moment, Leithe said nothing. Hal gave a pleasant wave from the doorway, then returned to his own work across the hall. Idhren looked at the records before him, the numbers seeming to blur together in his fatigue, and reached again for the tea to ease his throat.

Leithe seemed ready to try a new tactic, and spoke again. She reached for a strand of his damp hair and twirled it between two fingers. He'd left it in the braid that he’d worn to keep it out of the way of his armor, but between the weather and his own tired carelessness when putting on dry clothes, there was almost more loose of the braid than still in it.

“Therien’s awake now, she’s wondering where you hurried off to, so soon after getting back. I said I’d fetch you from your work. She’ll fuss if you keep her waiting.”

Ah, that was it, then. If she’d led with that, he’d be halfway back to their quarters already, but he supposed there was no harm in letting her and Hal have their fun. And yet—it pained him so much to even think it, knowing how excited Therien probably was at the moment, but…part of him wished to wait a while longer, to get through the routine of jitters and melancholic reminiscence that always accompanied such arrivals, before seeing her.

“…Let me compose myself a bit first, then,” he tried quietly, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic as it felt.

“If that’s what you want, this won’t get it for you.” Leithe moved some of his papers aside, careful to keep them in their proper order, and sat on the edge of the desk. “Give her a quick ‘hello’ and then tell her her papa’s going to get some rest. Even if you don’t, just lay down for a bit and try not to make your headache worse, and then see her once it’s passed.”

He didn’t know if she meant the headache, or the rest of it. Probably both, she’d seen enough of this ridiculous routine by now.

“I’ll rest once this is done, it’s really no trouble. Just a few minutes longer,” he tried. With perfect timing, because his body was as set on betraying him as ever, he had to turn aside to cough again.

“No you won’t. That’s a flimsy defense at best and you know it.”

He expected her to argue more. Instead, Leithe leaned down to kiss him despite his attempted protests that he didn’t want her to get sick as well.

“Oh, you admit it now?” She teased.

Even if he knew he couldn’t sleep, the thought of a warm bed after weeks on the road seemed awfully tempting. He really shouldn’t—it wasn’t difficult work, it wasn’t like he was a stranger to discomfort, it wasn’t like that discomfort wasn’t something he deserved, time and time again, for—

Oh, that was not a thought he should be entertaining at the moment. Not because he didn’t deserve the aching guilt that accompanied it too, worming its way in whenever he gave it an opportunity, burying itself as deep and painfully as he allowed, yet never deep enough, never painful enough, to redress that gravest mistake.

…No, it was a thought that would have to wait, at least for a little longer, no matter how much he needed to be wounded by it. Therien was waiting for him, and it wouldn’t do to sour her mood with his own miserable state. He would hold her, and kiss her hair, and pretend for a little while to be deserving of her affection.

And then, after she was put to bed, safe and content and with not a clue that her papa was worth none of her admiration, he would hide beneath a mound of blankets and think once again of that messenger, lantern shaking in their hand, the dread he had felt at their words, the terrible thread of something disgustingly unsurprised beneath it, the trembling, laid-bare finality of it all as he’d prepared to leave again—

And Leithe would be next to him, Leithe, whose patience he had never deserved either—

No. No, it could wait. For Therien, it could wait.

“Fifteen minutes,” Leithe was saying, as she pulled his wet hair back and began to work it free of its braid. “And then I drag you back home, if I have to.”

He didn’t doubt that she would, gods bless her stubbornness.

[in-our-veins]

Poppy Playtime Fanfic:

*short fics, random, some are in a series cause they don't fit a multi-chapter story.

get out of the room — (307) Marcas Brickley, Eddie, Leith Pierre.

monitor — (274) Riley & Harley Sawyer.

stay here, don't die — (432) Marcas Brickley, Eddie, Harley Sawyer

i promise i won't say anything — (ch 5. ~ 5.448) • Completed | Marcas Brickley & Eddie.

don't be afraid — (166) Riley & Harley Sawyer.

you will never leave this place — (ch 1 ~ 1.224) Riley, Harley Sawyer, Leith Pierre.

why would they keep you alive? — (846) Marcas & Harley Sawyer. (before reading, look at the tags.)

i'm not on my knees — (497) Leith/Harley (smut)

replaced — (142) CatNap.

i should fire you — (304) Leith Pierre/Reader.

is it enough for you? — (472) The Player/Harley Sawyer (smut.)

this is too much — (769) Marcas/Eddie.

don't touch him — (100) Ex.1006 & The Doctor.

is this going to be fun? — (565) The Player & The Doctor.

why do i know you? — (572) Marcas/Eddie

it was an accident! — (885) Marcas/Eddie.

i haven't seen you all day — (275) Marcas/Eddie

where were you? — (440) Reader & Harley Sawyer.

you reap what you sow — (2.596 / ch.2) The Player & Harley Sawyer

leave them be — (188) Harley Sawyer & Yarnaby.

we're on a date? — (291) Marcas/Eddie.

for your own sake — (482) Marcas/Eddie.

the subject did well — (428) Marcas/Eddie)

allow me to help — (209) The Player & The Doctor.

is there nothing there? — (1.429) Marcas x Eddie

they won't feel a thing — (154) Stella, Leith, Eddie.

are you hungry? — (234) Harley Sawyer & Quinn Navidson.

i'll take care of you — (1.323) Marcas/Eddie (smut)

they deserve to see it — (878) Marcas/Harley Sawyer (smut)

let's go home — (7.415) Ch 2, 3, 4, 5, 6~ OC & CatNap Doll.

it's time to go home — (286) Marcas/Eddie.

waste — (171) Harley Sawyer & Quinn Navidson.

i just don't believe you — (353) Eddie M. N. Ritterman & Harley Sawyer.

make you mine — (349) Marcas/Eddie.

find the truth — (339) The Player & Huggy Wuggy.

exhausting — (298) Scientist #4 & Eddie M. N. Ritterman.

busy, busy, busy — (422) Scientist #4 & Dr. White & Harley Sawyer.

you don't need to think — (414) The Player/Harley Sawyer.

i'd rather send her back — (406) Harley Sawyer & Scientist #4

daydream — (223) Marcas/Eddie. (Mildly graphic smut.)

sign your name — (2.531) Marcas/Eddie.

[dragonagegayz]

🎶Six Songs Soundtrack🎶 Bas Edition (plus some)

Are we shocked im coming to do my other boys?

Rules: If you're tagged, make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things/events about your OC/story.

Bas De Riva

1. Event that describes your characters past

So silent

No violence

But inside my head

So loud and clear

You're screaming

You're screaming

Cover up with a smile I've learned to fear

Just sunshine

And blue skies

Is this all we get, for living here?

Come fire

Come fire

Let it burn and love come racing through

Oh I'm still alive

I'm still alive and

I can't apologise, no

2. How others see them

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hole

The old familiar sting

Try to kill it all away

But I remember everything

What have I become?

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end

And you could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns

Upon my liar's chair

Full of broken thoughts

I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time

The feelings disappear

You are someone else

I'm still right here

3. How your character sees themselves

I know I'm made of clay that's worn

Blinded by imperfect form

But I will trust the artist molding me

I am creation, both haunted and holy

Made in glory

Even the depths of the night cannot blind me

When You guide me

Creature only

Look inside my heart and find a perilous ravine

Carved within the beauty, the darkness in between

Standing in the balance of complete and incomplete

I identify the echo of what is and what will be

I know I'm made of clay that's worn

Blinded by imperfect form

But I will trust the artist molding me

(Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)

In a room that's growing dim

Illuminated from within

The pull of tension's empathy

4. Their closest relationship (romantic or platonic)

Lucanis and Bas (romantic)

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to take me home

It was simple, it was sweetness

It was good to know

You look perfect, you look different

I don't wonder about your indifference

If I said you could never touch me

You'd come over and say I looked lovely

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to make me cry

It was simple, you are sweetness

Let's just sit a while

Depollute me, gentle angel

And I'll feel the sickness less and less

Come and kiss me, pretty baby

Like we'll never have sex

Illario and Bas (ex-romantic)

Don't

Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it

When I hear that you won't see me

Don't

Don't you want me?

You know I don't believe you

When you say that you don't need me

It's much too late to find

When you think you've changed your mind

You'd better change it back

Or we will both be sorry

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me, oh

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me, oh

Viago and Bas (platonic)

5. Major fight scene

I'm the hand of God, I'm the dark messiah

I'm the vengeful one

(Look inside and see what you're becoming)

In the blackest moment of a dying world

What have you become?

(Look inside and see what you're becoming) oh

6. End Credits

Alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune

For merely dreaming we were snow, mmh-mmh

A siren sounds like the goddess

Who promises endless apologies of paradise

And only she can make it right

So things are different tonight

We'll go together in flight

[innovation-is-key]

Hi. My name is Leith Pierre, and I'm the Head of Innovation here at Playtime Co.

If you're seeing this, you must be very, very lost.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Roleplay guide!

Talking will look like "'this'"

And actions will look like [this]

°°°°°°°°°

Boundaries!

Green is yes

Orange is thin ice but okay!

Red is no

Ships (canon or oc)

Roleplay and asks

Image's and gifs

Fanart (based on the blog or interactions) or reaction images

Non romantic relationships

Suggestiveness (slightly orange, but honestly i dont care as long as you arent too weird <3.)

Oc and canon can interact, i dont mind!!

Telling the mod about your oc's

Flirting (a joking way and serious way)

Proships

Harrassment

Threats, actual gore, death threats ect. (Look at this post too here !)

In general acting odd, i wont awnser asks that make me uncomfortable

(if i think of more I'll add those.)

°°°°°°°°°°°

Tags!

#innovativethoughts asks / rp!

#FreakingPierre suggestive (if youre uncomfortable or a minor please block the tag!)

#snugglingthecats out of character / mod response

#innovating reblogs

^^^^^^^

Small side note, mods first language isnt english so spelling mistakes will be made sometimes most likely </3.

Pfp art is from @/ajoure go check him out! (before i come and find you /j)

(Leith playlist + some small facts about him)

cannot think of more, but if i do ill update this!

[thelivingautomaton]

obligatory pinned post to catch everyone up on What My Deal Is

hi i'm kristina. they/she/any pronouns. not a "real" doctor (i have a phd) but i am a real worm. living in maryland and making viruses for a living 🦠

TAGS THAT I USE FOR MY POSTS: #automatonic posting, for any personal textpost; #automatonic asks, for asks; #automatonic pictures, for pictures; #automatonic writing, for any writing i post (or occasionally, posts about my writing).

THINGS YOU WILL SEE A LOT OF ON MY BLOG: queued posts (9 out of 10 reblogs are spit out through my queue: #queue who). #art. pictures of space (#space is the place). #words and/or #poetry. #history. music (#Kristina's jams). #cats and #dogs, not necessarily living together. #tarot. going nuclear (#nuclear tag) or going to the poles (#polar exploration tag). posts about #nyc and posts about maryland (under #maryland mentioned)

SOME LONG-STANDING AND CURRENT LOVES FOR FICTION (everything tagged by name, pretty much)

movies: aaaaalllllll kinds of horror movies. the truman show. dark city. AKIRA. moon. blade runner. brazil. the fall. honestly just take a look at the all-time favs list i made on my letterboxd

directors: david lynch. david cronenberg. john carpenter. martin scorsese. oliver stone (sorry).

tv shows: LOST. twin peaks. the prisoner. the x files. severance. the simpsons. star trek (namely the original series, next gen, and deep space 9). fringe. the leftovers. nowhere man.

books: the dark tower. the stand. chronicles of amber. the divine comedy. rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead (i know it's a play, whatever). richard iii (I KNOW IT'S A PLAY, WHATEVER). house of leaves. the master and margarita.

authors: stephen king. roger zelazny. terry pratchett. dostoevsky. tom stoppard. shakespeare. philip k dick. susanna clarke.

video games: silent hill. alan wake. control. soulsborne games. disco elysium. planescape torment. hades 1/2.

anime/manga: berserk. trigun. jojo's bizarre adventure. neon genesis evangelion. bleach.

music (not to be confused with musicals): bruce springsteen. nine inch nails. talking heads. radiohead. the mountain goats. basically any kind of post-punk, new wave, and alt-rock you can think of.

musicals (not to be confused with music): les miserables. phantom of the opera. natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812. jesus christ superstar.

OTHER TAGS I USE: #gender tag, for that mysterious and ineffable self-descriptor; #religion tag, for religious stuff; #grad school tag and #the post grad life, for the struggles of academia and industry respectively; #husband tag, for posts that remind me of my husband (does not have a tumblr); #dad tag, for posts that remind me of my dad (DOES have a tumblr); #writing tag, for posts about writing.

AND I ALSO HAVE OCS: #henry tag, #dunya tag, #val tag, #leithe tag, #jocasta tag, #dirk tag, #maia tag, and a general #oc tag for things that are Vibes(TM). henry is my current d&d blorbo, maia is my former d&d blorbo, everyone else lives in the world of #occidentia. i've also put some thought into DMing a spelljammer campaign and stuff for that is tagged #spelljams. ask me about any of this stuff at any time

WHERE YOU CAN ALSO FIND ME: letterboxd, twitter/x, bluesky, ao3, spotify, goodreads, storygraph.

this is the end of the pinned post -- you may now adjust or turn off your television set.

[heyy-dont-mind-me]

Hi Vint :3 I really love your art and your OCs!! ^-^🩷 I love your Scott-ler OC and wanted to ask about him! :3 like what’s his backstory, and what he’s like, and literally anything else interesting about him! 💖 I’d love to learn more about him if you don’t mind me asking! <333😁 again, love your art!! :3💖

🥺🥺🥺

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Heheheduejduej oh well time for a yap fest then.

Scott Mctaggart (His Full name is 'Scott Leith D. Mctaggart') is a Scottish male (hehehe)

Scott-ler is basically the shipname or just the tag I use for Scott x Onceler or Scott and Onceler ^^

.

Scott's personality overall is that hes basically a really sweet and thoughtful guy, he's a bit of a pushover and is quite shy, an ambivert for sure because he's not used to talking to others that's not Onceler (that's gay Scott 🙄), he can be chaotic and goes over the top when doing tasks, putting alot of effort into things.

The tasks may depend but especially on chores, when he does things he upholds it to a standard, you tell him that to make sure everything is clean, he will maybe clean the entire house if you leave him alone for like 3 hours (or less).

.

He hates bugs (certain kinds of course) and likes everything clean and organized.

His favorite animals is Horses and Bears, but he LOVES BEARS, he has a collection of teddy bears he's collected over the years.

Loves the color blue for personal reasons (hehehe your not beating the allegations Scott) but he likes to dip into red or green.

.

During his teen years he's gained the title of 'Spice King' because of his unnaturally high spice tolerance (totally not inspired by me, except I just have high tolerance not unnaturally high, yet.) And especially since not a single person beat him when eating spicy foods (or just eating straight from the hot sauce bottles)

Probably has undiagnosed Anxiety, He's got attachment issues (this extends to him being quite motherly to people younger than him, and animals too).

.

Morbid fact. I uh kinda like to make scott suffer because artist tendencies (so if you explore through the #scott mctaggart tag you might see him bloodied up or dead—)

.

.

His whole backstory basically revolves around his family having been murdered during a stormy night (aa classic OC story) after which he was then taken and thus is an orphan throughout his whole life.

He meets Onceler when they are both 7 years old in a summer camp, Scott was still a recluse cuz well your family is murdered, so it's understandable, thus he has a fear of having close connections with people.

That summer was the most life changing thing for Scott as well Onceler and Scott ended up being absolute best of friends, besties, bros, pals.

Luckily Scott ended up coincidentally moving orphanages that happened to be close to where ever Oncelers family is. ^^

As as you see, with Scott's backstory, he basically is SUPER attached to Onceler like not in a way that is clingy but more like he's a legit ride or die for Onceler same goes otherwise around (at least later in the events of the movie where that part is challenged), like this poor guy can't imagine his life without Onceler in it that he basically sabotages his chances of being adopted so he can stay close to Onceler.

Thus this friendship continued on as they grew older (making them 25 when they got out to travel, so by this point 25 - 7 = 18 years of friendship), so Scott's out of the orphanage by 18 and continues on with working, saving money cuz the absolute king he is 👑✨️

the two work enough to gain enough money so they can travel and set out for the world to find that material Once needs for the thneed. ( 7 years it took to make sure they got enough money, mainly scott was in charge of the savings because he doesnt trust Onceler's family, especially his mom)

You might be asking, what is Scott's dreams? Well he would love to be a doctor for humans and Animals, but he'd rather stay close to Onceler (sounds gay but alright man) to pursuing on opening the business.

Just a gentle reminder that scott has NO ONE besides Onceler, and 18 years of friendship that it draws the blur on Romantic or Platonic (yeah that line where they're just comfortable with one another), besides Once he's friends with the animals and acquaintances with the lorax.

Though in this case he managed to make 2 thneeds, the first thneed he gave to Scott (which is the iconic clothing piece that I draw him in pre-greed era and current greed era) and the other to show and try to get customers to buy.

So things happen movie stuff happen, what's his role when Once's bed was stolen? He slept through it till one of the barbaloots got to wake him up, he mainly arrived around when the Lorax was giving Onceler CPR.

.

So movie events go on, when Scott notices Onceler making a call, this is when there's a first crack in their friendship, he doesn't confront Onceler till later who later reassures that he will grow a back bone against his mom. (Lies)

So when Onceler's Family arrives, Scott's just in distaste but he continues to give Onceler the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah, big mistake over there. scott.

He keeps letting Once get away with what's been happening, he tries to be firm but otherwise he keeps being blocked off or ignored especially by his family, knowing Isabella is behind all that.

So as the company continues biggering, Onceler still gives certain credit to Scott, being that Scott is co–founder of the company though it doesn't mean anything to him, because he just wants things to be back the way they are, he tries to give options that would at least let the environment be stabilised but to no avail, continously having his authority played for jokes by Isabella and the rest of the family, and choices and decisions he makes being sabotaged time and time again.

Just to establish, for the current greed era of Scott there's 2 personalities I play into in my drawings, Hard Shell Scott who basically doesn't give a damn and actually fights for his decisions and is more strict and mean (for the family, he's mainly closed off towards the audience), hes the one that has a very strained relationship with Onceler and often talks back, this either leads to fights between the two or just has Onceler trying to find the younger scott, and there's Soft Shell Scott, the one who keeps being a pushover and trampled on, leading him to a state of vulnerability and self consciousness, his relationship just keeps being distant and distant leading him to be an afterthought.

(This is stems from his trauma about his family, either closing off close relationships or too afraid to lose it and thus just plays the meek card)

I'm just gonna say, I uh kinda made it that Scott canonically dies young because of Onceler's actions and dies pretty much young in every universe except for one universe.

.

So what about if he were in the official Lorax Movie? (Man that's a dream.)

Audrey would mention about an uncle who loved plants and would send her plants and flowers ever now and then.

Well it would just portray to their friendship throughout, but maybe in a sequence that Ted asked about Scott to Oldler, Oldler will probably be sad and say that Scott had left him before he even realised them before he could say goodbye.

But this part would reveal that Scott is actually related to Audrey, and was the uncle she was talking about, he came to visit her and then got roped into that motorcycle chase scene wow ekdjekd.

But then as he gets ahold of the situation and find the gates, he kinda leaves that scene.

The last scene of him meeting up with Oldler after Onceler had his moment with the Lorax.

.

.

(This is all that I came to yap so far, but feel free to ask ^^)

.

—————————————————————

[head-of-innovation]

⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

★📝{} . . .

Hi. My name is Leith Pierre, and I'm the Head of Innovation here at the Playtime Co. toy factory…

and if you’re seeing this…

then you’re trespassing!

──★ ˙📼 ̟ Roleplay Guide !!

☆📰。・Leith will speak like this: “If you're seeing this, you must be very, very lost..”

☆・🗑️「Actions will look like this: •Leith emitted what sounded like a screeching raccoon after two employees decided to scare him from behind a door•

──★ ˙🎥 ̟ Boundaries !!

✅ Familial Roleplays with OCs or canon characters

✅OCxCanon or CanonxCanon as long as it isn’t pro/darkships

✅Sending art or images

✅AUs/Alternate Universes interactions

✅You may flirt with Leith!

✅Suggestiveness is okay, but be weary that the admin is 17y/o!

❌ Proships/Darkship interactions

❌Triggering topics such as; self-harm, s*icide, etc

❌Harassment

❌Political topics

──★ ˙🗞️ ̟ Tags !!

#innovationiskey - Asks/Roleplay

#boxysstomach - Reblogs

#freakpierre - Suggestive posts

#busybee - OOC

pfp on blog is by @akamon_14 on tt! - WILL deleted it told to!

[dalarans]

tagged by @aevallare :3 (thank you)

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends to do the same.

tagging @graveomens @aonyx @monochrome-moon-bear @dumbpixiedreamgirl @changelingchild