#I did not check for errors

[egophiliac]

get 'em before they melt!

(the flavors are 99% vibes + first thought only thought, don't take them too seriously)

[royalarchivist]

Badlinu: Things could be worse! What about you, what have you been doing for the last, I dunno... Let's say... six and a half hours? [Laughs]

Tubbo:

Tubbo: ...I hate you so much.

[hybridzizi]

You Are Probably Magnesium Deficient

About a year ago, I started supplementing magnesium. It's been literally life changing. I've been working on a lot of issues with my health – asthma, migraines, fibromyalgia – but if I could only keep one fix I think it would be this one. 

(I'm glad I don't have to actually pick. You can pry my migraine medications out of my cold, dead hands.)

I had previously tried supplementing magnesium as a migraine treatment. My doctor suggested I try Preventa, which contains 60mg magnesium. I took it for several months and didn't notice any improvement, so I discontinued it. 

A year ago, my brother reported that he'd been supplementing magnesium and it had improved several issues that I also had. I give my family's health recommendations a lot of extra weight because they're very smart and because I figure their bodies are closer to mine so things that work for them are more likely to work for me. I asked him exactly what he was doing – taking 500mg every day for at least a few weeks – and copied it exactly. 

Nothing happened for about a week and a half. Then, I woke up and discovered that my muscles were capable of relaxing. Exercise became pleasant. I stopped clenching my jaw. My blood pressure monitor stopped warning me that it had detected an arrhythmia that my doctors could never seem to find.

So here's what I've learned since: 

Electrolytes include calcium, sodium, potassium, and magnesium. There are others. I don’t care about them right now. Your body uses calcium, sodium, and potassium to tense your muscles and magnesium to relax them. 

You want 186-2300mg sodium per day. The average American gets about 3300mg. Side effects of insufficient sodium include nausea, headache, fatigue, seizures, muscle spasms, and coma. Side effects of too much sodium include muscle weakness, thirst, irritability, lethargy, and seizures. Table salt is a good source of sodium, containing 2400mg per teaspoon.

You want about 1000mg calcium per day. The average American gets about 1029mg. Side effects of insufficient calcium include osteoporosis, kidney stones, hypertension, stroke, and insulin resistance. Excess calcium is mostly dealt with by the kidneys (pages 2-4). Milk is a good source of calcium, containing 240mg per 400mL.

You want about 3000mg potassium per day. The average American gets about 2668mg. Your kidneys will mostly deal with excess potassium, but if they fail side effects include numbness, tingling, nausea, trouble breathing, chest pain, and heart palpitations. Side effects of insufficient potassium include constipation, fatigue, heart palpitations, muscle spasms, tingling, muscle cramps, low blood pressure, and thirst. I’m not totally sure about good sources of potassium?  Like the best source on this list is dried apricots but you would need to eat like 2 cups of them to get enough potassium and that sounds like so many apricots. Bananas are pretty mediocre sources of potassium with 422mg per. Potassium supplements only provide about 99mg, or 3% of your recommended daily intake. Still, we seem to be getting pretty close somehow? Like add in that banana and you’re golden. I dunno. Moving on. 

You want about 400mg magnesium per day. The average American gets “only approximately 50% of that.” Side effects of insufficient magnesium include hypertension, arrhythmias, heart disease, and diabetes (pages 5-6). Side effects of too much magnesium include diarrhea – which gets framed as a positive (“reduces constipation”) as often as not and is presumably not severe – and that’s about it unless you have kidney problems. Peanut butter and black beans are frequently recommended sources of magnesium, containing 49mg per 2Tbsp and 60mg per half cup, respectively.

To put it another way, you would need to eat about 16Tbsp of peanut butter a day to get enough magnesium. That's a lot of peanut butter.

Your drinking water can provide up to 30% of your magnesium intake – and, historically, often has. When tap water has a lot of minerals, we call it “hard water.” We don’t generally like hard water, so we soften it, which takes out the magnesium (and calcium). 

You're probably magnesium deficient.

If you want to repair this deficiency, you will probably need to supplement steadily for a few weeks before you notice a difference. I recommend magnesium citrate, which dissolves in water and has a pretty subtle taste. Not that you have to dissolve it in water. I've mixed it in smoothies and taken it in capsules and added it to my water bottle – whatever is most convenient for the day I have planned. It all works fine.

[menasors]

Little aftermath comic of this fic I wrote recently because I needed more angst apparently

I was going to do another page where they all comfort him, but my stylus wouldn't stop bugging out and I think I need to get a new one :[

[simcardiac-arrested]

never volunteer for anything university related man. also go listen to this

[elderwisp]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

I was tagged by @mikachusblog @aurorangen and @moonwoodhollow however I put together a recap earlier this month! Instead I'll pick about ten story moments I enjoyed from this year under the cut as well as a very special screenshot. I did want to make sure I tagged some people as well! :D

I tag: @acidheaddd @likelyamused @pink-chevalier @changingplumbob @salemssimblr

@matchalovertrait @lre333 @swiftviolets @sirianasims @lynzishell

1. January 8th: Kai shares a secret

⋆ This was a really fun flashback scene! We got to see Kai, Frances, Dan and Atlas in the earlier years of high school as well as learn that Kai has romantic feelings towards Atlas, who happens to be his first kiss! This is also where his arc officially begins in my mind!

2. March 6th: Taryn's skepticism

⋆ I remember being so proud of this scene because it was one of the first scenes I fully posed the conversation. I really enjoyed of Atlas and Taryn's mannerisms peaked through. I think this conversation while it focuses on a different subject, the nature of it shows their personalities. Taryn struggling with self confidence while Atlas's facade starts to unveil just a bit.

3. March 12th: Frances's solo

⋆ I was really proud of these poses as well as the shots. The shots of Icarus and Frances while romantic do say a lot about how each views each other. Your greatest heartbreak being how Frances feels and the deepest regret being how Icarus feels. For the cello poses, I did reference through watching performances but also real life so it was neat combining the two. I am excited for Frances's future in De Sol Valley especially when new faces are introduced to the cast. It might be similar to Atlas's prologue where Frances is the focus but just in a shorter interval.

4. March 9th: A rose and it's bumblebee

⋆ March was a good month. Maybe not for the characters, but a good month creatively for me ! I'm gonna sound so toxic but I love the tension between these two so much like hold out a bit longer please JUSTKIDDINGPFFTorami? anyways structuring taryn's monologue came out of order. the frames where she says "A stubbed toe. A scraped knee. A fall." came first. Everything else was built around those three sentences. The scene following that was fun to put together because Atlas really does struggle to apologize and take ownership over his fuck up that he tries to smooth things over by being charming but Taryn, getting more comfortable, shows her newfound skill of setting boundaries (courtesy of Atlas LMAO) and calls him out on the bullshit.

5. August 9th: Theo's official introduction

⋆ Much of Theo's life is hush hush as following after the WR arc we dive more into their lives but I do want to talk more about them. I liked following their life throughout the day and the general reclusiveness they have in a new city. Their only friend at the time is Gabriel and with no goals of going back to their old life, the only way forward is through. I will say, something about the city has a way of helping people find themselves.

6. August 8th: Of course I had to freaking include this scene

⋆ Gonna be so real right now but I was terrified to post this. Terrified. We see the chaos of Atlas's vices revealing a very important detail, one Rowan reminded us all and that is, Atlas seeks out trouble. The most curious and pressing part is why and how does it end? Any scene with Atlas is scary for me because he leaves a lot of subtle little hints but the extent of his nature is like slowly pulling off a band aid. Are people gonna like what's underneath? I'm never really sure but I do enjoy exploring his character quite a bit.

7. September 3rd: Ojitos lindos

⋆ First, I love Jules. Dude was literally supposed to only be in the one scene and... He wiggled himself into a handful. Second, was very proud of how the dance came out, with Taryn teasing Jules and Jules chasing every second of it until the kiss. OUGH! The little fiend in me blurred out "tu y yo" in the kiss scene to sorta symbolize Taryn beginning to move on from Atlas but as we see later, that was short lived. Taryn's monologue was the easiest to write and it comes from a person struggling with the bitter emotions of heartbreak.

8. October 8th: A formal introduction to Ares's life

⋆ Little lore drop but the Langs have been longtime characters of mine. In fact, longer than everyone else. Chase, Ares's father, was a main character of a youtube series I made long ago over the summers of my school days LMAO! So to revisit and restructure them as has been... WOW ! I wanted everyone to feel like they were a plant on a shelf observing the dynamics of specifically the women in Ares's life as well as the structure of his home. It felt subtle but good :)

9. October 18th: Kai's revelation

⋆ I think I have one more scene left for Kai's arc. I specifically wanted to focus on the concepts of jealousy, cognitive dissonance and religion coupled with Kai being a closeted man. I will say in the beginning, I did struggle to connect with this character. While some elements I can totally relate to, writing about it is different. Envy can be classified as an ugly feeling. It isn't palatable to most and is quickly shood away but because of that, we don't talk about it enough. So I wanted to go into this really humanizing this common emotion but not making it as some caricature of an emotion. I do love Kai's growth, I wanted to make sure he earned it and it sure feels like it.

10. November 23: The freaking arts festival

⋆ There's still like four-ish more posts to go. Those will be a bit less crash-out packed but I think it ends on a high note. There's a lot in these six posts. Some of it slightly nudging certain characters arcs, other parts deepening your knowledge of other oc's. I wanted to start out on the disappointment that Atlas faces seeing that the only person supporting him there is Daniela and how he copes in the only way he knows how. The arts festival is something he helped put together but it seems to be a reoccurring theme that any accomplishment he ever has is always overshadowed. It's always something. Each frame, every detail, to the dialogue in these two posts are intentional. The following scenes after that have some really cool conversations. I think the last post also has some unique dialogue as well but we'll pick back up on January 2nd! :)

Also a bonus! I wanted to show one of these first photos of Tessellate. It's no longer on my blog after the reboot but I wanted to show how much has changed in two years.

[child-of-the-cosmos]

Part 1. > Here. Part 2. > Here. Part 3. > Here.

You stare at it in silence. Your whole body buzzing- and your thoughts going haywire, with fight or flight mode kicking into overdrive. Problem was. You didn't have a fight or a flight. No, you had the bonus option... freeze. And freeze is exactly what you did.

Your mind faintly thought back to words you heard in one of those cheap movies you watched once.

"If you don't move, it can't see you."

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, you could feel the vibration resonating within you. White eyes stared into yours.

It could definitely see you.

It's cracked eye flickered, just a bit. Thankfully, that gave you something to focus on as you tried to stand up. The air between you two still.

It sat there, quietly looking at you as you did. And If it wasn't for the slight twitching of it's hands, you would have thought it had turned back off.

You were a good two steps away from it, about to take another, when it started talking again. Making you flinch.

"W-wait...." It's hand started to move towards you, but then it stopped, pulling it back to where It was before.

"You didn't answer my question." It finally said, barely above a whisper.

There's a beat of silence between you two... then two, three....

"You're in the storage room, behind the theater." You told it.

It says nothing. It's cracked eye flickering again, this time getting so dim you thought it'd go out completely.

You were beginning to feel bad for it.

Then it laughs. A hollow, quiet laugh, static overlapping with it's voice.

"A theater... huh?"

You stood there, awkwardly looking for something to say. You were not the best conversationalist. Even worse when it came to heavier topics.

"Uh, yeah... sorry for- you know." You gestured between your head and it's chest. You looked stupid, you knew. You also felt stupid. How are you this bad at talking to it? You couldn't find anything comforting to say for the life of you. And you were trying.

It pauses. Glancing at you, your uniform, and then the place around you.

"It's dirty... must have been a while." It says, looking at the piles of boxes littering the place.

You feel the urge to look back down at your shoes again. How could a still face convey this much... emotion?

"A while since what?" You force out, you had a feeling that the answer would be bad, but it was all your poor mind could think of to say.

"Since we were last on." It says simply. Getting quieter at the end. It looks at you, then. "You're... not supposed to be here."

You flinch. It hit right on the mark. "Uh... right. Don't- Don't tell anybody, please. I uhm..." You trail off. What were you supposed to say? Oh gee, yeah, I was actually looking for stuff about you- like you were some sort of secret mystery, and then actually accidentally found you. Yeah, no.

"A curious one." It laughs, a little more up beat than before. "We would've appreciated you at the daycare."

So it was real. The daycare- you mean, yeah duh, considering you found the single, probably the most important bot that had something to do with it... but still.

"Not sure how," you huff humorously, "I'm basically trespassing now. I think. Pretty sure."

It stiffly nods. Something was wrong with its joints. Or what were supposed to be it's joints? You were trying not to look at it too hard.

"Oh, you most definitely are!" It tells you, and you cringe inwardly a little. "But, positive curiosity is greatly appreciated. And since you helped us, it counts as a positive!" It's voice was still filled with a bit of static, but it was obvious it was much more upbeat than a few seconds ago. Which was good. You applauded yourself in your head for correctly steering the conversation.

You laugh. You were starting to understand why the kids had liked it so much, regardless of how it looked.

"Trespassing is still bad, though." You tease, just a little. Your shoulders were relaxed now, and your mind was much clearer. You were still scared a bit, sure... but it didn't look like something that would hurt you. And it seemed nice enough.

"That's true! But I must thank you anyway, who knows how long they would have left us."

Oh. That was sad. Very. The silence from you must had spoken volumes, because it started talking again.

"It's okay, y'know. Things like this are to be expected, we were defective." It tells you, still trying to be upbeat, but it couldn't hide how quiet it was getting again. That ticked off you for some reason.

You folded your arms, really looking at it this time. Sure it looked a little... worn down, but it wasn't defective.

"You look fine to me." You say with a slight huff.

At this point, you were beyond sad for it. And the poor thing looked like a kicked puppy when you said what you did. You didn't mean to sound so... angry. But you were! Just not at it! It was wrong. It felt wrong.

"N-no, I mean..." It starts, trying to move a bit towards you, but then stops itself. Again. "It's just... it's okay. Really."

No, it wasn't. You told yourself, but thought it'd be better than to voice that opinion right now.

"I'm not mad at you, by the way." You suddenly clarify. "It's just unbelievable to think someone did this to you."

"You don't know what we've done. What were capable of." It blurts out. It's voice was tense, but empty? It was hard to tell the tone over the static that had somehow increased.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to find out." You stubbornly tell it, as you plop down on the ground where you were standing. It fliches, but then watches you. Waiting for something.

Your eyes don't move from it's, unwavering this time. You wasn't sure if you were being fueled by rage, or stubbornness, but it kept you still. Eyes steady. You were waiting, too.

It looks off first. "You should go back." It says quietly, static subsiding a little.

You frown, thinking. "Okay, but first-" You suddenly stand back up, going over to a pile of boxes you had went through before.

It's eyes lock back on you, and you feel it staring at you while you dig through them, a little more haphazardly than before.

"What are you doing?" You hear it ask you from where it was. It still hadn't moved much, and you had realized early on that it was because it couldn't.

"Looking for something." You told it, moving to the next box. You knew you saw them somewhere... which box was it?

It doesn't say anything after that, and you keep looking. Finally, you find it.

"Ah ha!" You exclaim quietly, pulling it out the box.

"What did you-"

*jingle*

You turn around, facing it in triumph. You were probably grinning like a maniac, but you didn't care.

"These are yours, right?" You ask it, holding a single red ribbon with a bell in your hand.

"...y-yes-"

You immediately start walking over to it, looking at the tattered ribbon tied around its wrist. There wasn't even one it it's other hand, but you knew that there had to be one there at some point.

You bend down next to it. "Is it okay if I touch you, just to change the ribbon out?"

It looks at you, while you wait for a response.

"You should worry about yourself more, do you just walk up like this to any stranger you meet?" It tells you.

You grin. "Maybe. My name's Y/n, what's yours?"

It looks off somewhere. "I used to be called a lot of names... sun, sunny, sundrop."

You think. "Then is... Sun, okay? Can I call you that?"

"...sure." it says, and you barely catch it from how quiet it had spoken. It was almost inaudible. But you caught it, regardless.

"Okay, Sun! It's very nice to meet you! Now, we're no longer stranger strangers... but like strangers-who-have-introduced-themelves strangers." You ramble, smiling as you did so.

"That's still a stranger, Y/n." It tells you. It sounded a little... angry. You pause, smiling a little less, getting ready to apologize.

"Sorry." It- they, say before you do.

Sun turns towards you, somehow managing to look a little gentler than they did before. "Sorry..." they tell you again. "I was... if you could-" They start, fumbling over their words as they look at the ribbon in your hands.

"The ribbon?" You offer, smile returning.

"That would be greatly appreciated." Sun says, voice sounding less... tense, now.

You nod before moving to untie the old ribbon, gently fiddling with the knot until it came loose. Sun didn't move an inch while you did so. The old ribbon was much shorter the the new one, so it was easy to pull away.

You just as gently set it down on the ground next to you two, as you began tying the new ribbon to replace the old one.

The bell on it jingled a bit as you tied it in a final knot. It was then you realized, that the one Sun had on before didn't have one.

You glance at them once you're finished. They were already looking at you.

You glance at their other wrist, the one obviously missing the red ribbon. Your eyes flick to theirs for another moment before you dig through your pockets, pulling out the ribbon you had stuffed in there before, from when you had first went through the boxes.

"Oh, a magic trick! How nice!" You could tell they were just messing with you. "What else are you hiding, I wonder!"

You laugh. "Well, a magician ever tells." You decide to jest with them, anything to help lift their mood. Even a little.

"Ah- That's true. I would know."

You look at them. "You can do magic?" You ask them, curious.

Sun's eyes somehow squint? That caught you off guard, but you recover quickly.

"A magician never tells."

Oh, wow. You burst out laughing. Shaking your head as you did so. Once you sober up a bit, you look at them, holding out the other ribbon. "Is it okay....?"

"Of course. We're strangers-who-have-introduced-themselves now, after all." They say, bringing up what you had said before.

You nod, softly smiling as you got to work on their other hand. "We are."

Once you were done with both ribbons, you moved back a little to make sure it was tied right. Sun was looking at them, too. There was a softer silence between the two of you now. You didn't say anything, feeling like Sun needed that quiet moment for some reason.

"Thank you." He finally says. "I mean it."

You smile at him, "it's nothing, really-"

"It's not nothing."

Oh, okay. You find yourself looking at your shoes for what felt like the hundredth time today. Again, you can see why the children liked them so much. Sun was more human than some of the humans you've personally met. The fact that they were just left here was really getting to you now. More than ever.

"Okay..." was all you could force out. You felt a little chocked up for some reason, but you refused to show it, keeping your eyes instead on your shoes.

"Okay..." Sun says, and a silence falls upon you both again. Both of you needed a moment.

And for a moment you both sit, stuck in your own thoughts, in your own emotions. That is, until your phone rings, and you jump.

You quickly fiddle for it in your pocket, looking at the contact. Your heart drops. It was your manager. It had been well over an hour now.

You shoot up to stand, completely missing how Sun fliches at your sudden movement. "I- uhm- oh no." You blurt as you pace waiting for the caller to stop calling. No way you were gonna answer that. But you needed to get back to work, pronto.

"Go." Sun urges. "I'll be fine here."

Will they??? You think to yourself frantically. "Do you like, uhm, need a battery- shoot sorry, a charger or something?" You say looking around the large room. Where would you even find something like that??

Sun chuckles, their hand twitching a little as they tried to wave you off. "I'll be fine until tomorrow."

They look at you, "you'll come back, right?"

You eyes snap to theirs, "Of course???" You say, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because to you, it was.

Sun looks at his hands, watching as they twitch again. "Okay..." They say quietly. "Goodbye for now, then?"

You smile, "Just until tomorrow, I'll be back, promise."

Sun huffs humorously. "I have you know, I take promises very seriously."

You smile back at him. "Then that make two of us."

You wave them goodbye before you quickly run off. You really hoped your manager wouldn't be too mad. Because you'd coming back here tomorrow, no matter what.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

My toxic trait is thinking I know more than JC from Pod of Rebellion, despite evidence to the contrary

[vagueeyes]

relistened to the SIMON SAYS pod earlier and finally googled reece's story about there being a special chair in theatres where you can tweet about the show you're watching, and apparently it's real?

iirc he mentioned this on a tlog commentary and i think/love that both steve & jeremy (in the pod & commentary, respectively) just go "...where's the chair?"

[grvntld]

okiE so kanina nagcommute ako mag-isa after such a long tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime~

tapOs bhe kabado malala nanaman ako kasi umakyat ako overpass tapos yung steps ng stairs ay yung may gaps na kita ilalim so parang 3 to 4 steps bago ko marating yung mismong platform, nanginig tuhod ko, eh may iniinom pa kong milktea non so grabe napastop ako and kapit doon sa railing for like 10 secs ata yun kasi nalula ako tapos feeling malalaglag ako nyahahhahhahuhuhuhuhuhu

and then while waiting for a jeep bhe nagsasalita ako mag-isa like may tumigil na jeep sa harap ko tapos siyempre may mga nagbabaan tapos ayoko kasi sumakay kasi masikip bhe tapos the only thought in my mind was "move!!!" ganyan kasi nakaharang yung jeep huhu nagulat me kasi naglingunan yung mga taong bumaba from the jeep and thats when i realized na i voiced out the "move!!!" pala pero nagdisperse din sila agad after nila ako lingunin nung sinabi ko yun HUHUHUHUH AHCK

tapos doon naman sa napili kong sakyan, nung may nagpasukan, walang tumabi sakin tapos nagsalita nanaman ako mga bhe huhu sabi ko "ay ayaw nila akong tabihan" HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA MALAMANG KASI NAGSASALITA BA NAMAN AKO MGA-ISA GAGI HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA tapos nung lumagpas yung jeep kung saan nagpapababa si ate gOrL na isa pang pasahero, sabi ko pa "ay lumagpas na, ang layo na ng lalakarin niya" like my goodness ano ba tong utak at bibig ko ahck bAkeht walang barrier or filter bhe like pwede sa utak ko lang ang mga thoughts gggrrrRrRRRrRRrr kaya nga thoughts eh

may isa pa pala—kasi diba may iniinom nga akong milktea tapos pagsakay ko naubos ko na tapos sakto may basurahan yung jeep sa loob tapos sabi ko "uy nOice, shoot!" habang nilalagay ko yung empty milktea cup ko in a way na parang nagdunk sa basketball HAHAHAHHAHAHHAUHHUHUHUHU SORRY IM JUST ANIMATED LOIKE THAT GANORN

honestly wala naman akong pake and i know naman people hv a lot on their plate para magkaroon pa sila ng pake sakin—natatawa lang talaga ako sa sarili ko please

[warthogreporter]

This random mid Lilo & Stitch rhythm game for the DS I checked out on a whim has a lot of nerve using the 'ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten' line when it completely excludes Lilo and doesn't even mention her.

[sysig]

Does this hurt? (Patreon)

Bonus:

I love surfacetable.txt <3

[falconre-re]

Just had to bug fix my own viddy game

[hua-fei-hua]

everyone look at the annotated fanmix i did for the xvx fest last week

[happyk44]

Here's how it goes. You are five children in tight quarters. Four of you have never known life without another person by your side. The oldest of you remembers and hates it. It is hot and humid. There's a rock. The rock is pretty nice. You were expecting a sixth kid.

Good to see your mom finally learned something.

You play games together. You have dreams about the world outside the darkness and the tiny light of flame from your oldest sister's fingertip. Then you go up and out. Splattered on the ground in ickiness. Your father is is throwing up and some boy holding a gold plate is standing in front of you with wide eyes. Your youngest sister punches him out the way and you run.

You run and run and run and run until there's nowhere left to go. You get clean from a river. The youngest boy soaks in it deliriously. You are all happy for him. He's found what he dreams of - even if only a small version of it. You pull clothes from a clothesline and get dressed. You cut your long messy hair with knives instead of lowering your head into stomach acid and it is quicker than you've ever known.

It is blisteringly bright outside. You are unfamiliar with light, and distrusting of heat, but it's still pleasant. You can see the trees and the sky and the grass.

The light gives proof you are free.

You hide when the darkness comes. The moon is bright, but you are haunted by years of sitting in pitch black. Is he swallowing you up again? Is the darkness his threat? Your oldest brother doesn't mind the darkness, has never truly been bothered by it, and watches you while you sleep. Your oldest sister builds a fire from branches and leave and the flame on her hand.

You know they will protect you. They are more a mother and father than you have ever known.

You awake and regroup. The boy comes back. His hands are raised above his head and he tells you what he knows. He is your brother, the youngest of you all. He was hidden by your mother. Replaced with a rock so he was not swallowed whole. He is the one that freed you from your father's belly. He wants you to join him, to battle your father, your family, to win and truly be free.

Disbelief hits you first. Then jealousy. Why did he get freedom, and you did not? It does not much approach the older two - your mother could not have known. Swallowed one, but surely he wouldn't swallow two. Swallowed two and set a pattern.

He never should've swallowed three.

It takes a while but you agree, following tensely behind this boy. Your mother sees you and cries. She is so happy. You are not. You do not know this woman. The oldest two do not have parents. The younger three only know the oldest girl and the oldest boy. But you all smile and tell her that you missed her too. You did not. You never knew her. All you know is that she handed you over and let him swallow you, one, two, three, four, five.

Still you stay and prepare to fight.

---

You are the oldest of six teens. Your life did not begin with kindness, but still you are kind. You clean your siblings' wounds from battles fought, and make dinner for them. You listen to their fears and pains and hold them close when they are scared. You fight with fire-laden hands meant for warmth and cooking good soup. You yearn for the day you can run across plains, barefoot and happy, to discover new places, instead of to fight.

Loneliness was a bitter thing when you were born. Alone you sat in darkness until the first boy fell. He was tall for his age, and unnaturally quiet. You found solace in him. A companion. He is your closest friend, the first you seek out.

But now he sits in shadows and sinks into dirt. He hears whispers that no one else can, and brings home pulsing orbs he leaves in his room. None of you can touch them. They pass right through your fingers when you try. When you ask, he tells you that they have been calling to him, asking him to take them home. He tells you that they are still asking for home.

"Where is home?" you ask, afraid of the answer.

"Not here," he says. He looks down to his bare feet and curls his toes into the stone floor. "But I think it's down. Deep down."

The deep down is dark and frightening. You remember it, walking to find allies in your imprisoned uncles. It is different from your father's belly, but encompassing all the same. It is not warm. It is not soft. It is not comforting. It is not home.

But you hold back your protests and squeeze his hand. You are scared of loneliness. It is a cold and empty thing. But you love your brother, and he desires the dark. Your middle brother desires the wet of the ocean, which you cannot stand, and the littlest one wants power and a throne. Your youngest sister will stand by him, creating structure and order and perfectly positioned paintings in the aftermath of this war.

Maybe Demeter, the middle sister who digs her hands deep into dirt and talks to trees and dandelions, will come with you. Surely she will want to travel across plains. Discover new nature. Discover new worlds. Meet new people.

Never to be alone again.

--

You are the oldest boy, the second born of six children. You have never known loneliness. Not physically. You have always had someone by your side. But they do not understand you. Even in the darkness you knew you were strange. Your dreams did not line up with theirs, covered in shadows and whispers and confinement.

Your older sister holds your hand and you smile, thinking of how she will not come with you to where you must go. It calls to you. It always has. These people that roam may not know about you yet, still worshipping the old gods, the ones who have faded away, but when they fall, it is you they call to. Of course they do. Your predecessor isn't around to take them in anymore.

You have not know quiet in all your years. The sounds of dying and dead never ends. In the night, you go and find them. You bring them back to a quiet hutch and set them down. You are not ready for your post yet - the battle has not been won. But it sits waiting, far beneath your feet.

It is a secret you will tell no one, save for a young girl with flowers in her hair and smile brighter than the stars. You will tell her because she will understand what it meant to be given a name that is not yours. Your mother named you in hope and awe, yet when your sister whispered, "Who are you?", you did not answer. You waited in silence.

And quietly and suddenly, you knew. With brilliant clarity, you knew.

"Hades," you said, and years later, people, both the ones who worship the old gods and the ones who your youngest brother has made out of dirt and clay to know nothing but the six of you and your victories - they will confess to one another, "I am scared of Hades", and they will mean both man and home.

Your family fears the darkness. You oldest sister and the following three knew nothing but the pitch black. They still do not trust it. And your youngest brother shines brightly static yellow light. He gazes upwards to the sky. You gaze down to the depths.

They will not follow you.

But you have a duty to follow, the calls to answer. You are not afraid of the dark, and when the war is over, you will descend and finally feel alive.

--

You are the third-born of six children, the second girl, the one who should never have been swallowed. You remember the pity on your older siblings' faces when they held you close in the darkness, only illuminated by the flames of your oldest sister's fingertips. The pretty light calmed your crying and fear.

You remember how it felt to escape the castle. To feel the earth beneath your sticky feet. It swells with you. Everything breaths. You talk to plants and they do not answer, although your family thinks they do. But you talk because they are alive. Because they respond. You can feel it in your veins.

Your oldest brother understands. Your second brother does too. But they are so different from you. You don't know how, but you can just tell. Something is different.

People call you Gaea, the earth, and you think, No, that's wrong. You are the earth, but you are not the earth. You are Demeter.

And you are unsure.

You fight militantly. Distance is your friend. You can feel the enemy patter against the ground, feel the way the trees sway and move. When you pull back your bow, your uncle isn't even in your sight. But the arrow lands dead center and he falls.

The arrow splits and wood crests and grows. Roots drag him down. Spilt blood is drank, water consumed. The very air in his lungs his stolen from his chest as he is devoured by your nature. Every nutrient in his body is taken as the roots spread within him and the tree grows.

You are not the earth. No, the earth fuels itself. You are a separate creation. Like your sisters, you think. Your brothers are different. They are limitless. But you, your sisters - you follow rules. A plant needs water and air to grow. You could not force it to grow without it.

It is in your victory do you consider what you will be. Your garden is not pretty. It is practical, important. Each row of plant exists within structure. Too close and one may steal from the other. Too far and they cannot share. Include certain herbs to deter bugs. Till the soil to renew the earth. Do not overwater.

Bury your uncle and let the grain feast.

--

You are the fourth of six kids. The second boy. The middle child.

Like the ocean, your moods are everchanging. Your oldest brother is the only one who can always quell them. Your youngest brother riles you up too much. It's his fault, you think, when they yell about your fighting. Look at the wind on the sea, how it builds the waves to fight.

You love your oldest sister. Of all your sisters, she is your favourite. She opposes you, warm and calm to your wet and wild, but still she sits with you and soothes your wounds.

Sometimes you worry something is wrong with you. You do not feel pain the way they do. And you are needy. Even more so than the oldest, who was alone for so long until your brother came along. You have known people all your life. Even freed of your father's belly, they have not left your side. And yet you cling. You hold on. They struggle to escape, but you hold them tighter and tighter.

Your older sisters are tactile, but they do not cling the way you do. They do not pull the others in and demand they stay.

Years later you will sit on the rocks and watch as a riptide drags a poor child down and you will understand why you cling.

Your siblings are more elegant than you, more firm, and steady. You run across the earth and struggle to stay upright. It's like your feet were not made for the ground. They fight sharp and deliberate. Each strike is pointed.

You do not fight.

You play.

It's all a game, the whim of the tides. Despite your stocky shape, you are fluid and flexible. Let them run then drag them back. Let them breathe then let them drown. Or spear them viciously. Rip them to shreds. Make them watch the others die in terror, knowing their time will soon come and you do not care how much they beg.

It's your laughter they hear last, booming loud like the crash of the waves in a storm. It's not your fault. You don't know what pity is. You cannot understand it. The ocean does not give life to those who live outside of it. The ocean is salty impure heaviness. Survival must be fought for in the cold and wet.

In the time that comes, when the war is over, you will feel languid and calm for the first time in your life. You all have won. There is no pious uncles, no bitter father to destroy. But soon your oldest brother, the only one who can calm your destructive moods, disappears into shadows and darkness. It appears open and endless to the eye, but you felt the confining walls the day you stepped in.

You do not like confinement.

But the others are still here in the house you've made a home, so you remain a lapping tide. But your littlest brother and sister leave to the mountains and the skies and you cannot follow them that high. Your earthern sister who came just before you leaves for the inland. For pure water wells and settled dirt and people willing to learn. You try to follow but she bats you away in horror and disgust.

You don't know how to handle this. This isn't what is supposed to happen. They are not supposed to leave. You cling to them, and they stay. Their skin grows heavy with your weight and they stop fighting.

They don't leave.

All you have left is the oldest of you all, and you follow her diligently. She tries to still your shifting moods, but it's hard. People get hurt and you cannot care. But she does. She cares so much and you do not understand why. One day you wake up and she is gone. The fire is out, and the people you were with have vanished too. You call out for her and she does not respond.

You scream, angered, that those who were yours have left. They have escaped your wet hands and dried your dew off their skin. They have vanished to places you cannot follow.

They have abandoned you.

You sink into the deep and dark and free and build a new life. Your uncle, a crochety man who did not fight on his brother's side, will tell you it is your time, that the age of Titans has ended, long live the age of the Gods. He will crown you king. The kingdom stands before you, a rule you have never wanted, but now crave. These people belong to the ocean, to you. The water holds them down, gives them life.

They can never leave.

--

You are the youngest sister, the fifth born. People call you strict and cruel. However, your oceanic brother adores your vengeful nature and watches eagerly as you fight. Blood hits your clothes and you grimace. You prefer when things are clean and neat. Tidiness is important.

Your siblings are all entrenched in nature - fire, death, earth, ocean and sky. But you do not see nature. It is a pretty thing in the background of the picture. Today you are violent, but in the future, you will have more meaning.

Women are not well seen in this world, often ignored unless desired, dismissed and put to the side, unless important. Your brothers stand out too much, and your sisters are too entranced by their nature - the oldest to comfort and give warmth, the second to nature and grain. So you are the one who ventures out to the villages that your enemies peruse. You are the one who blends in with the castle staff, who listens in on war plans, and steals secrets.

You are the one who leads your brother to your father.

You are the one who watches him die.

You know that when the war is over and your time has come, you will be much more than a quiet face ducked down and scurrying across halls. You will do much more than drag men to their knees in the thick of night and make them bleed across your knuckles for disgracing the name of family with their lecherous ways.

In the years that come, you will have a warring son and people will laugh at his bloody ways, assuming he comes from his father, the man who won the war. But you know that he comes from you, blood across your knuckles and carrying battered women safely home.

--

You are the youngest of six. When you are but a babe, your mother holds you on her knee and tells you of your siblings. In the darkness of your father's belly, you know that they wait for you to rescue you them. You think of them often. You wonder if they know of you. You imagine how grateful they will when you save them.

When you take your first steps your mother hands you a sword. It is bigger than you are and your fist is small and chubby. Still you learn. You train every day. You learn every weapon you can. Your mother visits and reminds you of your duty - save your siblings, destroy your father, inherit the world.

You rarely leave home. It's dangerous, the nymphs say. Be careful, your mother whispers. Tell no one of your truth, the Kouretes demand.

Fear comes crawling in swift and unbearable. Your mother leaves you with texts for your future, so you may be a good and honorable king. The nymphs tell you of your father's nature, so you will not make his mistakes. Every day you train, every day you learn, and every night you stare empty at the cavern ceiling, terror building a home in your head.

What if you fail? What if you cannot win? What if your siblings do not think you should be king? What if you do something wrong and you are overpowered like your father? You reassure yourself every morning. Of course, you will win. Of course, your siblings will believe you to be king. You will be a good and honorable king. Your people will love you. No one will wish to knock you off your throne.

But still every night you fear.

You meet your father in person for the first time, dressed as a lowly cupbearer. He is not as fearsome as you once imagined. He looks normal. Part of you is distressed by this. Your fear eats it up.

Still, confident and sure, you hold out his goblet and watch as he drinks. Your siblings come up, unclothed and covered in grime. They are all pale and horribly thin. Their hair is matted and unclean, chopped strangely at the ends, as if burnt instead of cut.

You prepare to speak, to usher them to safety as your father still vomits behind them. But the tallest girl, taller than you, throws a fist you were not suspecting, and down you go, and off they run.

Chaos ensues. Evasion is easy but still takes time. By the time you are free of the castle and your father's roaring rage, the sun has set. You climb to the top of the mountain you've lived your entire life under and call out to Selene. She rides her chariot across the sky and returns with helpful news.

Your siblings do not trust you. You don't understand. This is nothing like how you planned it to be. The plan was simple: you tell them of yourself, they are grateful and come with you, you prepare them as you have been prepared, and the battle commences. They obey your every word and listen thoughtfully to your plans.

They understand that you are a great leader, and will be a good and honourable king.

But they are not doing what they are supposed to. They are whispering amongst themselves, while the shortest girl hold fire in her hands and the tallest boy keeps a steady eye on you. They are not coming with you. They are not following the plan.

They are not listening.

It takes too much time for them to agree. They meet your mother and seem... strange. Surely, they should be more excited. She has told you about them in deep detail, from every hair on their head to the specific colour of their eyes, to the way they looked when they fell, and the horror she felt for being unable to protect them. She loves them dearly. Why are they standing so stiff in her hold?

Your siblings are nothing like you expected. Every day they continue to ruin the carefully crafted dream you put together. Your brothers are strange and different from you. They don't feel the sky in their lungs, or appreciate the birds. The oldest is too silent and unsettling. He is stronger than you expected, and makes enemies fall to dust beneath his fingertips.

His capabilities terrify you. Your fear eats it up. What if he desires the throne? it whispers. He is the eldest.

I will be the one to kill our father, you argue. I will inherit the throne.

Surely he would be more fit to kill your father, your fear laughs. He is entrenched in death and darkness. You are bright and loud. He will see you coming, but your bother will be a surprise.

Luckily, the oldest seems uninterested in ruling. But the others listen to him in a way they do not listen to you, and it angers you. What if they tell him to take the throne? Would he do it? Would he demand it?

Would he kill you for it?

Your other brother is a nuisance. He doesn't stay within the lines. He is wild and wicked and never listens. You repeat your plans over and over again. Everyone agrees. Then he runs forward, laughing loud and giving away your position each time.

He is vicious and angers easily. A simple disagreement turns into a bloody fight in a minute. Then he laughs it off, easygoing and calm, before clinging to your back like an octopus. It is baffling and bizarre. The others shrug and tell you he has always been like this. You cannot understand.

Your sisters are better. Although the youngest argues with you on everything. When your plans fail, she cuts in and creates a new one. Days pass, plans fail, and suddenly she stands tall and demanding, telling you that you are wrong. Her plans work. It makes you bitter.

You have planned and plotted for this war since the day you could walk. You know that your plans can win this battle. It is not your fault that your siblings do not listen.

But you grit your teeth and accept her assistance. She's rigid and off-putting sometimes. But she's pretty in the early moonlight. Fascinating when she's focused. Sometimes you feel you are the same - order, neatness, structure.

Justice.

You follow her once and watch her threaten a wealthy man for forcing his young wife to acknowledge his concubine's children as proper heirs and care for them as her own. You do not know which upsets her more - the concubine or the husband's actions. But you feel warm when she drops him to his knees and threatens to return if he does not make it right.

Truthfully you don't understand what she sees so wrong about the situation. But the fire in her voice and the fearful trembling of her victim invigorates you nonetheless.

The second-born sister is better behaved, albeit more stubborn. Still you get along fairly well. You do not understand her fascination with bread. You understand she starved for many years, but... it's just bread.

The oldest of you all is most soothing. But when she stills the fights that break out, she does not default to your opinion. She wants to hear everyone, both sides of the argument and witnesses. Even when the nautical one is involved, despite the fight nearly always being his fault. It is not your fault he doesn't listen and must be corrected every time.

She tries to relax you in your frustrations, but you do not understand her conviction to hear everyone out. And you do not understand it when she tells you you were wrong.

You do not understand many things about your siblings.

You begin to fear you do not understand many things about the world.

Still you win. Your father is defeated by your very hands. You cut him into pieces and box them up to bury across the plains of Tartarus. Even if he escapes, he will have many long years to piece himself back together. And even if he manages that, he will have no chance of escaping Tartarus.

You retire to the home you have made with your siblings in these last few years of war and it is strange. There is nothing on the horizon, no impeding responsibility to look towards. Your destiny has ended. The crown on your head feels too heavy. You hold it in your hands and stare at the glistening metal. Your reflection is warped and distorted.

You don't know what to think.

Is this how your father felt, you wonder. Did he destroy his father and take his crown only to find it felt too heavy and he could not see his face in the glistening metal? Did he feel hollow and strange inside? Did he not understand the world either? Is that what made him cruel?

You place the crown aside and dispell those thoughts. You are not your father. You are better than him, greater than him. His defeat by your hand proves that.

Careful, your fear laughs at the back of your mind. Your father likely thought that too.

[self-spaghettification]

Aaravos’s Endless Cold

because of @sthormiiii’s headcanon— I was thinking about how Aaravos has to wear a cloak because he’s cold and. this spawned. Oops

Despite his mastery of both sun and sky, while the powerful archmage could do anything within reason, heating or cool the temperature of the room without a thought, he could not help finding himself freezing regardless. it was the sort of inner chill that soaked you to your bones. that left him shivering and hands trembling with no reason at all, despite the way the fire blazed right in front of him, dancing across his hands, within him. 

he found his body’s involuntary reactions to his solitary confinement an inelegant limitation of his form so he took to wearing a cloak so that as he checked his reflection in the ceaselessly watching mirror, he might not have to look upon the stars that glistened faintly on his skin like the sweat that coated it regardless of his ever constant slight adjustment to temperature. The stars that once shone brightly and winked at him warmly from his skin whispering sweetly of wonders now angrily hummed minor chords and squinted in disdain. It ached in a way more tangible somehow than the constant ache of the inky black tear in the fabric of his ethereal being. He had grown so very, very tired of the pain, and had more important things to attend to. He vaguely wondered what it was like to know temperature, to know love, but with no real commitment to the concept any further. Every time he stretched his mind out to touch the constellations and divine their alignment he was slapped back, his black heartache ate at him and took his stars.

Tears rolled down his face, of no real consequence. He gently touched the black mark making him a mocking example of monstrousness, which he grown used to nonetheless. The days still passed, regardless of the impossibility of knowing. Once, he would have let them take all of him in the darkness, given into the icy cold, the shivering and tears. But withering numb and purposeless into dry tinder,  it was fire he must utilize, dancing across the table, the pit, his hands, burning inside him, and after each bout of those desolate days of darkness—the sun must always rise, mustn’t it—he had grown used to setting fires and burning candles and wearing cloaks to mark his time and burn away his aches. It was enough to believe almost- almost—that the shivers had gone away. So be it, it made no difference if his stars sweat in cold fury or his core shivered in the terrifying icy hunger of a vacuum from the ever open wound. As much as possible, he would cover and neglect them just as the stars taught him—

excommunicated.