#I like being able to just send people links that work instead of having to assume they're on the same platform as me

[kirby-the-gorb]

[martyrbat]

every day mcr fans prove to be the worst people alive huh

[waffowo]

I cannot stop thinking about how Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain ironically fits as the missing link of the Metal Gear Solid franchise by being this ambivalent and spiteful text that could only be possible because it exists after Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns Of The Patriots.

Like think about it. MGS4 is Kojima’s perfect farewell in how it encapsulates his complex relationship towards his own series, his own cynical but still very much hopeful take on The Irishman (2019) if you will. The game simultaneously reveals Kojima’s hope and affection by pulling every known idiosyncracy to a hyperbolic degree but also his exhaustion and suspicion through Snake being not a hero but an old killer and his reflections on his role as a pioneer of the military-stealth genre within the gaming industry. It even seeks to tackle the behemoth of closing at least the majority of the loose narrative threads. As a consequence, any future game is attacked with the question of purpose since Kojima has already said what he needed to say. 

Through this question is how MGSV can even be allowed to exist because it affirms that the question is rhetorical. The game chronologically exists in a liminal space in the middle, neither here nor there. It even narratively exists as a structural ouroboros, a almost completely closed system which begins and ends on a mirror. Kojima elevates this sentiment to an extreme level by denying any kind of player satisfaction (or nostalgia) by still being an encapsulation of a lot of overarching themes now filtered through a lens of condemnation. 

 There is at least this sense of valour found in the main cast of MGS4. There might not be any heroes but you can tell that at the end of the game, there is a sense of dignity. MGSV works completely opposite to that. The central cast of MGSV is so pathetic that the game plays like a tragicomedy as they aimlessly wander about, overdosing on some serious fucking copium that taking revenge will bring peace. A particular venture you know that’s doomed but can’t help but watch. Phantom Paz expresses this so unsubtly yet so perfectly in her final cassette tape. Peace Day is always going to be a mirage and has been even since the Peace Walker days, it’s just that Kojima doesn’t always focus on the other reality that these people are all still terrorists and war criminals. 

People who expected Big Boss instead got a confused, empty and depressed war criminal who can be found roleplaying as a cowboy. His other hobbies include non-stop vaping and managing war criminal spreadsheets. Mission 43 doesn’t feel like a descent into evil because Venom is already kind of evil but instead works by acting in perfect opposition to Chapter 1 where you sort through your digital files to identify patterns and promptly send them to death in the quarantine ward. He’s so high up the military hierarchy that of course he can’t help but have a crisis when he is directly confronted with the physical reality he used to be able to meet with mechanical detachment. 

Venom Snake also serves as a perfect way to comment on the overarching theme of agency. However, there’s no final monologue to tell you to think for yourself, no Raiden throwing away the dog tags, no Naked Snake refusing to shake an official’s hand. Instead all these typical moments are denied in every way possible to the point it’s very funny. Venom is not only a castrated protagonist but is also basically a preprogrammed AI with no hope to break free because he’s narratively doomed. Your actions don’t really matter. Even funnier, the ending is perfect by hitting you with the “you, the player, were the war criminal all along” that heightens the tragicomic beats through recontextualisation. What is more mortifyingly funny than realising that you’ve just been playing as Raiden AGAIN but instead of someone that exists beyond the player you have become canonised as an in-world character complicit in perpetuating imperialism. This works so well with how if you listen to the tapes and mission briefings closely, you realise that there are so many contradictions that no one are bringing up. Everyone is lying to you and everyone is telling the truth but it doesn’t matter. Venom just captures the disorientated position of the player, caught in this Pynchonesque paranoid labyrinth that it leaves you confused and speechless. What other choice do you have but to smoke a fat one, it’s not like you can actually resist the game if you’re completely out of the loop. 

Aside from Venom, there is of course Huey who has descended into full on pathological lying and delusion. Even if he didn’t cause the second outbreak, he’s so overwhelmed by guilt and paranoia by his other crimes he’s most likely guilty of that he’s able to beat the truth serum. When you’re rescuing Huey, he literally blames you for the destruction of the MSF. Like literally as you’re hauling ass to get him out. Even more pathetic is Kaz who makes these grand statements alongside Venom about taking revenge that you know doesn’t mean shit. His monologues are so passionate and are so depressing and yet he is met with awkward silence constantly that it’s depressingly funny. 

There’s this amazing usage of comedic timing, after you rescue Kaz and bring him back to Mother Base, where he monologues and says, “Dogs of war for nine whole years…that ends today. Now you’re not sleeping, and we’re not junkyard hounds. We’re Diamond Dogs.” The swelling of the music at the last moment is instantly followed by Kaz being shut the fuck up by a medic who puts an oxygen mask on him and lies him down. No one responds to the speech. Ocelot merely only talks to stop the medic and allow Kaz to get a few more words in out of pure pity. Likewise, Kaz’s extreme cognitive dissonance as he believes he can return to the good old days is so pitiful and poignant you can’t help but to stare with sympathy. 

The end of Chapter 1 shows how far gone he is with a very clever cut as Venom turns away from a vision of Skullface where Skullface is replaced by Kaz himself. Chapter 2 then logically shows him becoming full on paranoid, going full on 1984 Minister of Truth because what else does he have left if he doesn’t have an object of revenge anymore? I remember a moment, where he’s calling you, with this sense of manic fanaticism as he rambles to Venom that it’s time to dig up dirt on Huey and finally get him out for good. It becomes so absurd that even OCELOT tells him to shut the hell up. 

Ocelot is maybe the only normal person on board but that title means nothing in-universe. He’s thriving because he’s happily going along with War On Terror 2. He’s normal because he flat out embraces this and even goes out with his crush dressed as a cowboy. Of course there won’t be those moments where he’s of central dramatic focus here, he is simply here for the ride, his true goal to win the game of 8D chess for the man he’s down bad for. 

This band of losers are completely devoid of real purpose and are so…beta and it works because of how it both confronts an equally important reality of the characters not usually as overt and how MGS4 already closing off the franchise sets up how MGSV’s narrative and characters are already and should be dead. Peace is only possible in the case of war criminals when they’ve been buried. Evoking dissatisfaction might not always be intentional and is sometimes accidental but it works because there is no real satisfaction in beating a dead horse just to see your faves perform one more song. Especially if they already aren’t good people.

[sleepykye]

My owner ~

Muichiro was a cat abandoned and was harsh towards everyone. Until you took him to a doctor and treated for him and cared for him. He turned out to be able to transform into a human.

Link for part 2 : part 2

– 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 –

It was raining when you were on your way back to your home. The road got wetter and wetter as the streets started to flood. People were groaning as water filled their shoes. Some of them were unlucky and didn't even have umbrellas. You didn't mind though, your shoes were wet and filled with water but you enjoyed the weather. Rainy weathers were always cooling and always calmed you down.

It was then when you walked past a box, you heard a weak meow. You turned back and to your horror, you saw a injured cat. It was bleeding and was meowing weakly. You quickly picked it up as you dashed through the streets. You were looking for a vet until you finally found one.

You were drenched from top to bottom, but the vet still allowed you in to see the treated kitten. The kitten was furious as it scratched you when you tried to touch it. The veteran also had multiple scratches seen on his hands. It was bleeding, the kitten was hissing as it had a gotten up in a defensive stance.

You had no choice but to leave it at the vetinary in the meantime. Tomorrow, you were coming home from work when you suddenly thought about visiting the cat. You decided to stop by a store and bought some canned food from the store. When you went into the room with the cat you found in the street, you saw him there laying down quietly on top of a drawer.

When it saw you, it hissed at you. When you opened the can of food, it stared at you as you put it in front of him. He sniffed the food and licked it before eating it. It was then when you realised that the cat had a collar and name attached to it. You didn't touch the cat to avoid being scratched, but you could read the name from here.

It was " Muichiro ". You called him by that name softly as he turned to you. When you put your hand near his, he surprisingly sniffed you before giving you a small lick. He nuzzled his head on your hand before continuing to eat the canned food.

You could take him home after that. The vet gave you the green light and recommended some cat supplies you can buy for him. You basically spoiled Muichiro all the time. You always bought him toys and beds.

But he preferred to sleep on your chest instead when you are always sleeping. But because you liked to turn and toss in your sleep, you decided to let him sleep on your bed and always put him beside your bed when you are about to sleep.

One night, while you are sleeping, he decided to turn into his human form. His cat ears and tail were still there though. He held you tight as you slept. He slowly dozed off as you were snuggled in his warmth.

The next morning when you woke up, you saw your cat beside you, sleeping peacefully. You were actually confused for awhile as you felt like as if last night you had been hugged by someone. It send shivers down your spine at the thought of someone random cuddling you when you were sleeping. But you decided to ignore that feeling and went to prepare muichiro's food.

You got dressed up and put some milk into his bowl and some cat food beside the bowl. You saw muichiro awake and decided to give him a small smile while petting him.

– 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 –

This just be part 1 my dear readers. I was just not motivated enough to continue the story 😔.

OMG I JUST NOTICED THERE WAS ALOT OF GRAMMAR MISTAKES . I AM SO SORRY FOR WRITING ATTACHED AS ATTACKED.

JDUSBAKAKBX

[aloeverawrites]

Disclaimer: I made this post a while ago, off the top of my head, in response to an animal rights group that was rightly accused of being ableist. I wanted to try and show that you could care about guide dogs without being dismissive of people who’s are visually impaired but I’m not sure if I did that well. It’s only meant to start a conversation that can be lead by someone more qualified. Instead of reblogging I’d recommend looking for other perspectives on it, (and then sending me the links because I’d like to know more.)

So I have ideas about guide dogs, but I'm sighted so it's not really my place to discuss them.

Like I do think there's a problem with training one organism to serve another for their whole life. I think that if they also teach the dogs how to talk using those soundboards then this will be much better because at least they've agreed to it. Also they might be able to communicate with their carers more effectively and help them more.

And on the other hand, we've put dogs in a situation where being kept in the house all day and then being taken for maybe 1-2 walks a day is their best case scenario. So maybe it's actually better to teach a dog how to function in human society and give them an option to participate in it. I know that working can help human mental health, maybe it's the same for dogs.

And there's the important point that guide dogs help blind people and people with low-vision. It helps them have their needs and rights respected in a world that doesn't look for them they way it should.

Idk, maybe I'm just saying that we should see guide dogs as workers and not tools. And we see animals as objects/tools in general so while we should be changing that thinking maybe we should be focusing on animals that aren't necessary unlike guide dogs.

So yeah I'm not really making a definite statement on this, more trying to start a conversation. Also I'm hoping that my fellow vegans can look at this and figure out how to balance animal rights with human rights because I think that sometimes we ignore the human rights aspect.

So what do you guys think? How do we make things better for guide dogs and their disabled guardians? I'd especially like to hear from people who are vision impaired because they're the most important voices in this.

[frozenjokes]

CuteGuy Would Prefer Greatly If HotGuy Never Ever Had Any Nice Things, But Especially Not His Good Friend And Roommate Cubfan135 (3/3)

prev

this part ended up much darker than the first two, related to Grian’s mental state after the cut. He thinks and says things he does not mean or want, so please check the ao3 link for the content warnings.

Grian gave himself a few days to recover after his fight with HotGuy, too sore to do much else than sit at his laptop and send out job applications; something he should have been doing anyway, but looking for work with a criminal record was nothing short of demoralizing. So what if he had a history of violence- so did everyone in this damn town, only some people were better at running from the police.

At least Cub was always around to help, sending links for possible options and filling out applications at his side; honestly, Grian wouldn’t be able to accomplish half of what he did without Cub’s help. Even then, the process of writing and waiting was stressful, and Grian was never good under pressure. Anxiety made him restless and restlessness made him lash out, and he didn’t want to lash out, not at anyone who didn’t deserve it.

So he gathered his things as the sun set, comforted, at least for now, by the idea of release. Maybe he’d catch a petty thief in the act, or spot some asshole from an earlier time- oh what he would give to get his talons on Cub’s shitty manager, but that was off limits, especially now. Regardless, it would only create more work for Cub in the long run, and Grian wasn’t trying to cause him any more grief.

Cub was.. pretty down after the night with HotGuy. He hadn’t gone out once besides to work, and while he wasn’t visibly upset, he was distracted, and just a tad clingier. Cub needed a lot of downtime, and usually he spent that time alone, but in the past few days he lingered in the common area, and sometimes even Grian’s room if Grian hadn’t left it in a while. Grian never minded. It was nice to hang out like that, quiet, doing separate things, but doing them together. Though, it was much harder to squash the temptation of ‘Bother Cub Instead Of Working’ when Cub was right there.

Grian wouldn’t have it any other way. He just wished he could help Cub feel better.. Especially when it was at least partially his fault Cub was so down in the first place.

He didn’t know exactly what Cub and HotGuy had been texting about, but it was clear enough that Cub was pretty upset. Grian didn’t fully understand why; was it really such a big deal to fight, even if it was staged? Was it the being misled? Now, Grian didn’t want Cub to have anything to do with HotGuy, but this didn’t feel good either, especially when he had a part to play. If Cub knew it was Grian behind the mask, would he be just as upset that Grian had gone through that much effort just to try and force a rift between them? Well, in fairness, Cub would definitely be more concerned with Grian having a supervillain alter ego, but that wasn’t- it didn’t matter.

Still, he felt guilty.

It was guilt that stopped Grian at the front door when Cub called his name. Guilt, that kept him home to watch a movie when Cub asked instead of going out like he desperately wanted to. And the next night, when Cub asked to play board games, and the next, when Cub told him simply he just didn’t want to be alone.

But the next night, over a week after the incident with HotGuy, Grian was too restless, too anxious, too stressed. He needed to leave, he needed to fly, he needed to hit something so he could just be normal again. So when Cub asked him to stay, Grian said no.

“Please.”

Grian hadn’t expected ‘please.’ He didn’t like ‘please.’ He didn’t like the way Cub said it at all. “I’m just going for a fly. We can play cards when I’m back.”

“Can’t you fly during the day? Doesn’t the sun feel better?” There was something too desperate about Cub’s tone, like his composure was just crumbling away. It was wrong. Grian felt his stomach turn.

“I like the cold. I like the moon. And it’s too busy during the day, I don’t have to pay as much attention in the dark.”

Cub wasn’t satisfied. “Grian, I want you to stay. I’m asking you to stay.”

“I-I know-“ Grian felt his own composure begin the crumble, his knees beginning to feel weak, “I just have to go, Cub. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“You don’t have to.” Cub met his eyes, and saw directly through him. Grian could have thrown up.

“I need to,” he insisted, almost shrilly, but Cub did not budge, he didn’t understand.

And all at once, everything came crashing down. He was so stupid. He- Grian- This wasn’t about HotGuy at all! Cub didn’t care about HotGuy- they were barely even friends, and honestly, Cub had never been all that romantically inclined- Maybe he’d been angry with the hero, but that wasn’t why Cub had been staying home-

Cub saw the spiral behind Grian’s eyes, and the change was instant.

“Grian, come here, please. This isn’t- we can figure this out. I’m not angry with you, I promise I’m not angry. We’re going to figure this out.” Cub took a step forward, arms raised. Grian’s breathing hitched as he took a step back. He felt his hand tighten around the door knob. He saw Cub’s eyes flick to the spot, then freeze. “Don’t run.”

Grian was out the door faster than Cub could lunge to reach him, and even without wings, Grian was in far better shape, far faster, and they both knew it. Grian beat his wings violently, drowning out the sound of Cub’s voice calling his name. He needed to go. He needed to be away. He needed to run. He didn’t want to hear himself think.

…

High above the dappled city lights, the first bar with music loud enough to hear from the sky called his name. The lights were garish and red, the people loud and grating, and it was everything he needed to stop thinking forever. Maybe he could get a guy to buy him a drink, and really make some bad decisions. Panic heightened his delusion. He wanted to black out. Didn’t want to remember where he was when he woke up, or anything about the night before. He wanted to wake up in the woods miles away from town. He wanted to wake up in a stranger’s bed. He’d never had sex before. He hoped it would hurt.

Something like mania clouded his vision as he stumbled into the bar, or maybe it was the lights. It was crowded, so crowded, and people were bumping his arms and his wings as they danced and again he was sure he would vomit over the sensations. He needed more.

Grian reached half-blind for the first man he saw, grasping for contact he viscerally didn’t want. The hand his talons fell across was big, peppered with scars and adorned with dusty gray rings- the skin didn’t quite feel right, though the person attached to the arm turned when he was touched, distracting Grian with his large green eyes.

“Dance with me?” Grian heard himself say, and the man grinned, wide enough to swallow him whole.

“I’d love to!” He took Grian’s other hand, pulling him closer, and Grian pushed in, whether to avoid contact from others or drown himself in the stimulation of one man instead, he had no idea. The crowd shifted around them as they danced, loud and careless and sharp, everything was so sharp and they were touching his wings, they were touching his wings and he needed them to stop. He held the hands of the man he was with like a vice. His grip must have hurt, his claws surely, but his partner never reacted and never let go. Grian felt his mouth hang open as the crowd enveloped them both, choking on the proximity. Someone stumbled against his back and Grian wanted to die. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t breathe.

Someone was speaking, but Grian couldn’t hear them over the music. Maybe he wasn’t listening at all. He had to keep dancing. The current song switched over to something new, and Grian wretched as the base shook his entire body. He was going to die. He felt himself being pulled and had no choice but to follow. People were talking. Someone was talking to him.

He didn’t remember leaving the crowd, but he must have, because he was sitting on a stool at the bar, and he could breathe again. He was holding something, something cold, and was disappointed to discover it was water. Fuck, he was thirsty. He drank the entire thing.

“Shots. I want shots,” someone said, and that someone turned out to be himself. “Whiskey. Or tequila. Yes, tequila.”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” someone annoying said, and the annoying voice belonged to a person with a very broken nose, whoa, wild, and hey this was the bad hands guy!

“I’m having a bad day. You should buy me tequila shots.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough.”

“I haven’t had anything!”

“Then you’re either on hard drugs, or something is very wrong.”

“I’m sober!” Grian snapped, “And nothing’s wrong with me- nothing’s- you’re making this very hard on me, so if you won’t buy me something to drink, I’m going to go back to dancing.”

“Well, you’re shaking like a leaf and burst into tears while we were with the crowd, so I’m kinda thinking you’re not doing so hot. Honestly, I was surprised to even see an avian in a place like this- I was pretty sure you guys liked your personal space. Everyone’s different, I know, but still.”

Ah. That’s why he felt so wet. Hm. Bad Hands Man seemed to think for a moment, before waving the bartender over, which pleased Grian until he asked for another water.

“What’s your name, stranger?”

Grian considered not answering out of spite, but at the same time, he was still thirsty, and being annoying and having bad skin wasn’t a crime. “Grian. I’ve come up with my own name for you, but it’s not nice.”

Bad Hands Man snorted, the smile returning sharp on his face, “You can’t just say that and not tell me. Maybe I’ll like it.”

“Bad Hands. Because I hate touching you.” Bad Hands Man blinked a few times in rapid succession, which Grian found to be very satisfying, throwing him a smirk of his own before going to sip at his water.

“You know, I kind of want to be offended for several reasons, but I also kind of respect you for that. I don’t want to be called Bad Hands though, so give me a second to come up with something else.”

“Well I call you Bad Hands Man, not Bad Hands but- hey, what are you doing?” Grian hopped off his stool, poking his head over Bad Hands Man’s shoulder where he was scrolling on his phone through- baby names? “What- Do you not have a name?”

“Oh, I’ve got one, but you could be fae. I won’t risk it, no, no. Strangers get fake names. Occasionally, if I decide I like you enough, you’ll get my other fake name for good friends only.”

“What? When do I get to know your real name?”

“Hm. Suspicious.”

“I’m not suspicious! We live dead in the middle of the worst city in the world- there’s hardly a tree for miles! There are no fae here!”

“That sounds like something a faerie would say,” Bad Hands Man trilled, then laughed at Grian’s reddening face, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m not going to tell you my name though.”

“But I want to know! I- oh, is this a superhero thing? Are you just trying to cover yourself? Or are you one of the villains, and really trying to hide it.”

But Bad Hand Man’s lip curled at the mention of superheroes, and Grian had never respected someone so instantly in his entire life, “No. I wouldn’t be caught dead in all that riff-raff. The only reason I’m here is because, as you said, this city is cold and dead and devoid of all things green. They won’t catch me here.”

Grian stared for a moment, processing. “Whoa. You’re kinda nuts, aren’t you?”

“The same people that call me crazy give their names freely when strangers ask.”

“So.. everyone?”

“My point stands.”

“You know, I’m not sure if it does.”

“Well, do you want to help me pick a name? I’m thinking about something with an ‘M,’ take a look,” Bad Hands Man showed Grian his phone, and Grian very much did want to do that, so he paid close attention while Bad Hands Man scrolled slowly.

“Micah. I’ll call you Micah.”

Micah looked pleased, nodding in his approval. “Is there a reason? I’m just curious, I like to know why people pick the names they do.”

“My-cah!”

“Mycah!”

“My-cah!”

Micah broke the back and forth, laughing, though Grian could have gone for hours, “So what’s the reason then?”

“I like the way it sounds.”

“Oh! Guess I could have figured that out on my own, couldn’t I?” Micah chuckled, and Grian Looked at him for what felt like the first time. He was handsome, really, in most senses of the word. His hair was relatively short and pulled back into what was quite frankly, a silly little ponytail. He had glasses too, but even despite the harsh light in his eyes, Grian was pretty sure they didn’t have lenses. His outfit was fun, his dark top cropped to an almost ridiculous degree, while his pants were red like his glasses, floral patterned, and little too short on him, but cute. Grian cringed inwardly at what he must be looking like right now; a total mess certainly, feathers probably all puffed up and hair wind-blown to hell. Well! If Micah hadn’t abandoned ship already, Grian might still have a chance here.

“I!” Grian began, holding himself a little higher, “Think you’re cute.” He preened, pleased with his grand show of affection, more so when he opened an eye and saw Micah smiling.

“Thanks. This is a new outfit, a little different from what I’m used to, but I kinda like it. Usually I show a bit more chest and less stomach, so this is honestly a bit weird for me. Good though. I’m always looking for a little change.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say you’re hiding too much when it comes to the chest.”

“You think it’s too much? Maybe it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but that doesn’t bother me.”

“No! Not too much at all! I like it! I like you.”

“I’m glad,” Micah looked away, the smile falling just slightly. With some distress, Grian wondered what he was doing wrong. This was how this was supposed to work, wasn’t it? Was he forgetting something? A bead of mangled frustration crept through, a reminder of the pain, the fear, of the desperate need to run. He needed this. He needed this to work.

“I want to go home with you,” Grian was painfully aware of how breathless he sounded, a result of his hiking heart rate.

“Grian..” Micah began, but Grian couldn’t handle the gentle rejection on his tone, he needed to be better, more desirable-

“You could have your way with me. You could do whatever you want.” Pathetically, he felt like crying. He needed this so badly and he was losing, he just couldn’t stop losing.

“Grian, no. Stop this.” Micah was firm, and Grian felt like shattering.

“Please.”

“You’re not well. Where do you live? We could walk, or I could call you a taxi. You need to go home, okay? This place isn’t good for you. Is there anyone I could call? Anyone who could pick you up?”

“No!” The sound ripped out of his throat with a wretched sob, “I have nowhere to go. I have no money- I have nowhere to go.” Just like that, everything was wrong again, everything was awful. Why did this have to be so hard? What would it take for him to just be normal, to stop being so hopelessly angry all of the time?

“Hey, Grian, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Let’s go outside, alright? Let’s go outside.

“It’s not okay-“

“Breathe with me. Breathe. Can I take you outside? Can I touch you?”

“Don’t- not my hands.”

“Can I touch your sweater?

“Touch-“ Grian pulled in a strangled breath, but he just couldn’t keep the air in, “Yes- The sweater.”

“The sweater’s okay?”

“Yes.”

Grian was painfully aware of his hands, of his wings, of his skin, as Micah guided him along, cringing at the attention Micah brought when he loudly cleared the way, but also grateful for the lack of accidental brushes against his feathers. He didn’t think he could take it. He didn’t think he could survive.

The nighttime air was a massive relief, and Grian managed to take his first real breath through heaving lungs. There was a bench right outside, and Grian all but collapsed onto it, burying his head in his hands and curling inward. It was too much. It was just too much.

He didn’t look up when Micah spoke.

“My place isn’t far from here. I have a spare bedroom, and the door locks from the inside. You could use it, if you want, for however long you need. My work is unpredictable, and I can’t promise I'll be home much, but maybe that’s better for you. There’s not much to eat there right now but- I can grab groceries tomorrow morning. You don’t need to tell me anything, or pay me- it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you on the streets tonight, okay?

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. He barely processed any of it.

“I promise you’re going to be okay. You’ll be safe.”

He didn’t like that promise. No one could know what was going to happen to him. What might become of him. But damn if Grian didn’t want to believe it. To collapse and curl up and feel a little less like everything was falling apart.

“Okay,” he managed, his voice little more than a whimper, “I’ll go.”

[dovesndecay]

I don't want to make this post. I don't, I don't, I don't. I never do.

I'm eternally exhausted with making begging posts every week, with my own situation and lack of options, of what feels like inviting a cocktail of pity and disdain from every which way, and having to be gratingly transparent about my finances and my personal health to complete strangers to essentially make a bid for "why I deserve to be helped" is...a lot to deal with when you're already disabled and chronically mentally ill.

But I have little room left for pride, and, well, *gestures at capitalism*.

If you follow me, you probably know my situation. But for those who don't, here's the cliff notes.

I'm disabled and unable to work and support myself beyond what I do for my patreon (which is never as on-schedule as I keep trying to make it) and when my roommate and I feel up to it, we do doordash a couple times a week to supplement. Those funds generally go towards meds and food when things get tight.

For the month of October, thanks to incredibly generous folks, I was able to just make the car insurance payment and parts of the smaller bills that had begun piling on top of each other.

But out of my regular $1200 worth of bills, I still have $935 left that I need to pay to just make it to being able to start trying to pay November's bills.

$400 of that $935 is just to make the car payment. Which is kinda important.

(For folks that saw we had to send the car in to the mechanic a week or two ago; Johnny's all fixed up, running good, and I can't thank y'all enough for the help!! I've been out of town, and I was so worried about him!!)

My car is how @natalieironside makes it to her dirt wizard job each night, which is what pays for the roof over our collectively queer disabled heads, so keeping Johnny in our possession, instead of the bank's, is, admittedly, pretty high priority. And it's already getting near a month overdue.

[img desc: Screenshot of my bank balance, which reads, "$86.00" on top and "available balance" below.]

My current bank balance is $86.00, and every single bit of help -- whether by donating or boosting -- genuinely means everything to me.

Ways You Can Help:

You can donate directly via any of the options below. And if you're able to, willing to, do this, it does not matter to me if it's $1 or $100, my gratitude to you is endless. Please never apologize to me for how little you might be able to do to help me. Every bit means the world to me.

PayPal: link

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You can check out my patreon! I’m writing a queer vampire serial, sharing short stories, and behind-the-scenes content. There's a fair bit of stuff on there that might catch your eye. I'm working on adding upcoming cosplay stuff as well! (Current top project is Guillermo De La Cruz from What We Do In The Shadows!)

You can purchase a print through my shop! Accomplices from my patreon get a 15% discount code!

Disclaimer: For transparency's sake, I'll tell you now that print purchases do not pay out until something like 2 months after the initial purchase. (But I like it when people like my photography, so y'know.)

Send me something from my wishlists! All of the funds I'm sent, whether it's donations or pledges, go towards bills + food. So, I keep necessities and wants that I simply can’t afford to get on my Amazon wishlists.

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Lastly, You Can Reblog This Post.

And if that's all you can do, I want you to know that doing this means just as much to me as if you were able to do every single one of these other things all at once. Without your boost, my post dies within a few hours and I get nowhere.

Thank you. 💛

[hikaririnku-blog]

Hikari MID Rambles #1

I've been thinking random thoughts about MID, some additions/reinterpretations that can just be put into one post. This is also gonna help me with a rewrite I'd be planning because I am dedicated asf LMAO. So, feedback and additional thoughts are welcome! Daemos Society: The many times I've rewatched MID and how much we get within the castle is a great start, but other than where the last human soul was held and some smaller flashbacks with Daemos, we don't exactly have much on the outside of the castle. Discussing it with some other friends that have watched it, I thought of an idea that, with how absolutely brutal Daemos can be towards their own kind ⁽*ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰ* ᴬˢᶜʰ'ˢ ᴰᵉᵃᵈᵇᵉᵃᵗ ᴰᵃᵈ *ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰ*⁾, maybe there were a little more interconnected to keep the most powerful close, and the least powerful contained. Maybe, instead of villages outside of a castle town, the kingdom has sectors for living, some sectors closer to the actual castle where uncommon knowledge is withheld, and even powerful Daemos reside there (basically, their version of "rich" people, since it is implied they do not have currency, at least in an actual money sort of way), hence the rarely spoken "ranking" system they have. The farther away the sectors, the weaker Daemos residents are, and are kept that way through boarder control. Only way to move up in living and in power is through your hard-working efforts. This also may help explain how Bish ended up recognized by and married to Rhal, and how Noi managed to be a knight despite his lowest rank. It doesn't mean they won't be looked down upon as seen by Noi's fellow comrades and Lady Grandma towards Bish, but they still more than likely shown more than enough effort to be where they're at now. With it also being in separate sectors, the current ruler for the sake of instilling fear and sending a message can absolutely ruin, if not fully destroy, a sector, if they so pleased, or help it. Hair: Partly inspired by @load-theloading-artist 's thoughts on hair styles (link to their post here), I do imagine very similarly Daemos have different hairstyles to hide vulnerability and/or show confidence, but also have ideas of some hairstyles that are more combat-ready as well. A lot of those that fight either have shorter hair or have longer hair that is tied back to help them within said combat, and more of your regal, non-fighters will assume some more "fashionable" hair (i.e. braids, buns, half-up, etc.) With that being said, though, it can show status as well, like the ones that are more modest and are your run-of-the-mill civilians may care less for their hair, or if they do, they may get sneered at by (in their own terms) "weaker" Daemos that assume they're trying for nothing, or they'll be like the rest of the more powerful Daemos that just forgets about them or be cruel to them and will avoid them; either way it'll look and feel like an insult. Other teachings: I'd assume there'd be more teachings in Daemos society other than just the combat. Medical fields to help injured soldiers (prioritizing healing magic for those able, and have subcategories of physical treatment, herbal remedies, etc.) would be great within this time of magic crisis, and some lighter teachings for the civilians. With how dystopian the world of the Daemos feels, some history may be hidden, either within the mystical library of the kingdom, or even in forbidden areas (this may be due to Asch's Dad to keep his power longer in my mind's eye, he just seems a kind of monarch that would Do That), and maybe there's even a way to restore magic without human souls. The history teachings would be in rebel groups that are super lowkey and underground. Language teachings, to help read, write, and speak in other languages other than the Daemos's home language (probably is useful for Daemos that only speak a certain language and was once used to communicate with humans a long time ago before they were eradicated for magic usage.) (Continuing in next post!)

[turnupswritessometimes]

Ricordami - Lies of P - P/Romeo - Ch1

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56555755/chapters/143738143

Summary: P decides to repair the king of puppets. It sends him on a journey to discover what happened to Carlo and Romeo - and to discover whether puppets can love, after all.

Next

Chapter One

P didn’t tell anyone what he was working on. Not Eugenie, or Venigni, and certainly not his father. He didn't even tell Sophia. It was a secret. His only secret, he thought.

He quite liked having a secret. It made him feel like he did when he lied. Made him feel like he was something more than just a puppet; just a weapon.

Even if he did have to share his secret with Gemini.

Gemini, who didn't think it was a good idea. He told P that, every time they went to the theatre. They went late at night, when his father had already retired to bed; when less people would notice his departure. He was supposed to be scouting out the Barren Swamp. He was taking his time about it. He didn’t like that place; didn’t like the heaps of puppet bodies discarded without a care. Certainly didn’t like that there were battle towers armed with cannons.

So, he went to the Estella Opera House at night. The parts had all been there, where he'd left them. Damaged, but there. There had been some that he'd needed to replace, but that wasn't too difficult. There were plenty of puppet parts on the streets. Plenty of puppet parts in his father's room. They were intended for him, of course, in case he got damaged.

P was repairing the puppet from the theatre. The King of Puppets. Not the great costume that it had been wearing, but the boy inside. The boy who looked human, like he had. The boy who called himself Romeo, on the recording.

P was fixing that boy.

He wanted to meet that boy. He wanted to talk to him. Now that he was able to translate the language of puppets. He’d be able to understand him.

"With how it went last time, I think this is a risky idea," Gemini said, as P worked by the low light of the gas lamps, in the abandoned theatre. Hail pattered heavily on the roof. "I mean, you had a tricky enough time beating him last time."

"This time, I'm not going to fight him," P replied. He struggled with the intricacies of the nuts and bolts. His fingers didn't seem to be made for such delicate work. "I want to talk to him."

"I still don't think building a friend is the best option, pal."

P stopped to look at Gemini. He narrowed his eyes.

Gemini chirped, then fell silent.

P shook his head, and continued his work. It was strange, to be fixing something; to be creating, instead of destroying.

The King of Puppets needed new legs. He needed clothes; P had enough spares of each that he could loan out. There was damage to his face, and he found a replacement plate, but he didn't dare touch the eye. That seemed too risky for someone with clumsy fingers.

And it was all very risky.

It took a week, and lots of hard work. At least P did not have to sleep; that was a benefit of being a puppet. It was helpful for him to lay still, to reconfigure, but he didn’t require the same eight hours that a person did. He returned to the hotel by daybreak, and no one knew the difference.

Eventually, the puppet was finished. Eventually, P had sat him in a chair, and brought out his ergo, from his bag. The ergo he'd collected from their first fight. The ergo, he was sure, that kept hold of who the king of puppets was. Had been.

He slotted the ergo into the puppet’s chest. He topped it up with some that he'd collected, just for luck. Then he stepped back.

And waited.

Gemini chirped, and his light dimmed, as though he was afraid.

P's springs ticked. Was this what anxiety felt like?

The puppet’s eyes opened. His head swung, a little, as he woke up. As he came back to reality. He was on the floor in front of the stage. P retreated, a little way down the aisle – just in case.

Those eyes fixed on him. One brown-green hazel, and the other red. The King of Puppets glanced over the opera house, but stared at P. As though he was something mesmerizing; like he was watching a shooting star.

He could hear springs. Springs and hail. For a long time, they stared at each other.

"Carlo," he said. It wasn’t the puppet language. It was his own. It made his Ergo spark.

"I'm not Carlo," P replied.

The King of Puppets – Romeo, P remembered, his name was Romeo – shook his head. He frowned, as though he was still waking up. He lifted a heavy hand, and brushed his hair back. Looked at him again, but with less wonder now.

"You're the one who fought me."

"I am Geppetto's puppet," though even as he said it, he knew Geppetto's puppet would not be doing this. That name was what everyone else called him, and he was starting to resent that. And yet, he didn't know what else to say.

Romeo still stared at him. P would not look away. He stared back.

"Are you sure?" Romeo asked.

P didn't answer. He stood, slowly, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

Romeo moved too. He shifted, gripping the arms of the chair, testing his new legs on the floor. The shoes that P had stolen for him squeaked on the wood.

"You didn't talk to me, before," he said. "Before, you didn't listen. You just fought me."

"I didn't understand your language, before," P replied, also straightening up.  It felt like a battle; a fencing match, not to different from the last time they were here.

Romeo tilted his head to one side. His blonde hair fell in a soft wave. "You're a puppet?"

"Yes."

"You don't understand the puppet language?"

P paused. "I didn't. I do now."

Romeo tilted his head to the other side. "Now?"

"A translator was built—"

"By the creator?"

P said it too quickly. "No."  

He did look down, then. He didn't want to give away any secrets about Hotel Krat, or its inhabitants. He wanted to be careful. But he didn’t want to admit he didn't trust his father. Didn’t want to admit that he was being disobedient.

Romeo gave a soft chuckle. "Carlo did the same thing, when he felt guilty. I could always tell when he had a secret."

"I'm not Carlo," P repeated. But his mind had stuck on that chuckle. He’d never chuckled like that; nothing so soft and amused. He wanted to hear Romeo do it again.

Heavy footsteps sounded across the stage. He looked up through his hair, just enough to see that Romo was making his way across the stage. They were closer to the same size now; now that P had used those replacement parts. P had given him the old uniform he'd had. It made him look softer; realer.

"Well, not-Carlo," Romeo said. His voice was pointedly light. "Tell me why you think the creator – your creator – didn't let you understand the language the other puppets do?"

P didn't turn. He stared across the stage. The discarded puppets from the King of Puppet's play were sprawled at the back. The one that looked like his father stared blankly ahead.

"To stop me going into the frenzy too," he said. It was what Geppetto had told him, when he’d asked. He’d smiled softly, and told P he was different.

"A puppet created to destroy other puppets." Romeo stepped closer. P didn't turn. He closed his eyes.

"I'm not bound by the Grand Covenant."

"I don't think I am, either," Romeo replied. "Not now. Something's changed."

P still didn't look at him. "I translated your message."

"Better late than never, I suppose." Romeo stopped, close to him. Only a step away. "And you fixed me."

P nodded.

"Does Geppetto know?"

P shook his head. He ducked his chin again. He’d disobeyed his father, and he couldn’t even say why he’d done it. Why he’d felt such an urge to bring the King of Puppets back, and talk to him.

"You're really not bound by the Grand Covenant." Romeo's knuckles grazed his own. P should flinch away. He didn't. He only clenched his fist.

"And yet," Romeo continued. "You still do what he tells you, for the most part."

"He wants to save Krat." P turned, then. Romeo was still taller than him, even with those different legs.

"He wanted you to kill me." Romeo raised a hand, as though he was going to brush P's hair from his face. "Your best friend."

"I don't know who you are," P replied, but he didn't step away. "I don't remember you."

He didn’t. But he wanted to, and he wasn’t sure why.

"And isn't that interesting?" Romeo smiled, a little. He tilted his head again, and his blonde hair fell from his shoulder. It caught the light of the gas-lamps, and looked almost white. A white flame. "That he'd have his new version of Carlo destroy his old best friend?"

P shook his head, again. He was getting tired of saying he was not Carlo.

Romeo smiled, wider, and sat on the edge of the stage. It looked like a great effort to pull himself up, as though he was still getting used to his body.

"You know,” he said. Still casually. “Geppetto always hated me. I never met him that much – he barely ever came to the charity house – but he thought I was an awful influence on Carlo. He thought I was leading him into trouble. To be disobedient." Romeo looked down, with a sigh. He still smiled. "But that was mostly Carlo. He was always contrary. Particularly when it came to his father."

P found himself leaning on the edge of the stage too, just a step away. He twisted the wrist of his legion arm, listening to the click of the metal.

"There's a portrait of Carlo, at the hotel," P said. His voice sounded much too soft, in the cavernous theatre. "He's scowling."

"He always did, when Geppetto was around." Romeo chuckled, again, and P looked at him. At the soft smile that his mouth formed when he did that. It was mesmerizing. "I remember that portrait. He moaned every time he had to sit for it, and utterly refused to smile."

They sat, together, and P heard a distant clock tolling the hour. It was two in the morning.

"So…" Romeo paused. Completely; he didn’t move a muscle. "Why did you repair me, Geppetto's puppet?"

P thought he hated being called Geppetto's puppet even more than being called Carlo.

"I wanted…to talk to you." It sounded silly and strange, when P said it. "Not fight."

Romeo looked at him, his red eye bright. He could feel the pressure of his gaze on the side of his face, but he looked at the floor again. "And what did you want to talk to me about?"

P thought. He'd just known he'd wanted to talk to Romeo. Someone who was not his father - not any of the inhabitants of Hotel Krat. He'd wanted to speak to a puppet.

To someone like him.

P eventually asked, "How did you know who you are?"

"I – remembered." Romeo looked at his own hands, now. He pressed his fingers together, rubbing the tips over each other. "It came in parts. Sometimes it was just – snatches -– part of a song, or a conversation – but they built up. And as they started building, I started remembering, more and more. And then – I was sure. I felt it. In my heart."

He tilted back his head, laughing softly. He was beautiful, P thought, when he did that. The gas lamps glowed softly on his pale skin, making his eyelashes translucent. He looked like a painting; the prince in a fairytale painting.

"No, that's not right, is it?" Romeo murmured. "I felt it in my Ergo."

P nodded. He tilted his head forward, so his hair curtained his face.

"Did you want to remember?"

"Yes." Romeo slipped off the stage, and landed with a thud. "Don't you?"

No. P knew that. He might not know who he had been, but he did know that he was himself. He had his own memories. His own thoughts. He hadn't had any of these flashes of memories. None at all. Not whilst listening to records, or walking the streets of Krat.

And yet, they were all his memories. His own.

"You want to remember who you are, don't you?" And Romeo stepped around him. Stepped up to him, until they were only inches apart. P pushed off from the stage to stand. He was still shorter. He still had to look up at Romeo.

No, he didn't. But he also didn't want to see the expression on Romeo's face when he admitted that. He didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So, he didn't say anything at all. He watched Romeo's expression instead. It shifted, when he looked directly at P. It softened, his hazel eye warm, his mouth almost smiling. The way he must have looked at Carlo. Like he was something wonderful.

It was nice for someone to look at P that way.

So he didn't stop Romeo, when his fingers grazed P's cheek. Didn't stop him when he closed the gap between them, tilting his head. P recognised the action. At least, he had seen it in pictures; on the cover of one of the hotel's vinyl’s.

Romeo kissed him, his hand steadying P's chin. He felt the pressure of his thumb and forefinger. He stayed there, for a long moment.

P's eyes stayed open. Romeo's face was blurred. His lips were firm.

He pulled away, after that long moment, and his mismatched eyes searched P’s. For recognition.

P stared back.

Romeo's hands fell away.

"I'm sorry," P said.

"You really don't remember anything," Romeo said. His expression twisted. Grief, P recognised. He waved a hand through the air. "Then what did you repair me for? Why did you want to talk to me, if you didn't want to remember who you are?!"

P gripped the stage behind him. "Because you didn't want to kill me."

Romeo shook his head. He stepped away, brushing his hair from his face. P didn't move. His lips still felt warm from the kiss.

"I think you should go," Romeo said. "Run back to Hotel Krat and be with your father, before he finds out I've turned you disobedient too."

Romeo, who was telling him to leave, and not looking at him at all, now.

"Everyone wants to kill me, but you didn't," P said. "If I knew—"

"You would have killed me," Romeo replied. "It's what your father told you to do. What he made you to do."

"I am made for more than that." He said it confidently, but he didn't quite believe his own words. If he hadn't been made to fight, then he'd only been made to replace Carlo. That didn’t feel better.

Romeo looked at him. His expression was carefully blank, but there was a hint of something in his eyes. Disappointment, or hatred, or disgust. He turned away, closing his eyes.

"You're not him."

Did that mean Carlo would have admitted he was only made to fight?

P wasn't sure; he didn't understand; he knew that this fight was over. He should leave. He stepped towards the doors of the theatre, Gemini swinging at his side. It was different, when Romeo said he wasn't Carlo. He didn’t like it.

He still stopped at the door. He looked back, to where Romeo still stood, his face turned away, and his hand running over his jaw.

P asked, "What were you made for?"

*

P stared at the letter. It really was a letter, stuffed into the mail slot at the side of the hotel door. A crisp, white piece of paper, fluttering slightly in the wind.

The hotel had never received mail before.

He took the letter out, and unfurled it. There were only two sentences, written in elegant, looping handwriting: We need to talk. Will you come back to the opera house?

It was signed with an elaborate 'R.'

P's springs whirred in his chest. Perhaps there was some part of him that remembered being Carlo; if the thought of seeing Romeo again got him such a reaction.

"Hey, don't keep the secret all to yourself," Gemini chirped up, at his side.

P showed him the letter, standing away from the doors of the hotel.

Gemini huffed. "That's rich, considering he kicked you out last time."

"It must have been confusing," P said. To wake up a second time and see Carlo. To hear that P didn’t  want to remember.

"He was downright rude." Gemini waited. "Hey, you're not actually going to see him again, are you?"

P was. He was already heading across the courtyard, across the damp cobblestones (it was spitting; It always rained in Krat), because he was going to. He wanted to. Romeo wanted to see him again, he wanted to talk more.

He was one of the handful of people in the city who P could trust. Who would not try to kill him, or trick him. And of those people he trusted, he also didn’t trust his father.

P didn’t think he could trust his father. He hated it, but there was something about Geppetto that seemed different. There was a look in his eye, the way he said things, that made P feel uncertain. Why would Geppetto send him to fight Romeo without telling him?

So of course, he went back to the opera house. Of course, he pushed open the door to the theatre.

Romeo was pacing. Pacing, and bushing the hair back from his face, his brow furrowed. He stopped, when he heard the footsteps, and looked over. His red eye flashed, for a moment, like he was ready to fight.

"You came." He almost smiled.

"Yes."

"I wasn't sure if you would. After what I said—"

"It's fine." P took another step inside, watching Romeo carefully. He was not armed. He left his own weapons at the door. They would not be fighting.

Romeo rolled his shoulders, looking over him. "I thought about what you asked. About why I was made."

"I didn't mean to say that." It was a lie. P did. He'd wanted to dig at Romeo, the same way Romeo had dug at him.

"You're right, though." Romeo crossed towards him, his yellow hair catching the light. He looked like an angel, like he should be cast in stained glass. "Because I don't remember that part. I don't know how I ended up a puppet."

P stared. He didn't close the gap between them. He remembered last time; remembered Romeo kissing him. He looked at his mouth now, then back up to his mismatched eyes.

"I don't know that, either," he said, eventually.

"But you might be able to find out." Romeo kept walking. He only stopped when he was a few steps away.  "You said you wanted to be my friend. That would be how. I want to know why I'm no longer a human."

P continued searching his gaze. He supposed he didn't understand it; how it would feel to know you were a human, and wake up as a puppet. He'd only ever known being a puppet. Did he want to be human? He was certainly curious. Certainly curious about the changes that had been happening to him, recently.

"And what about Carlo?" he asked, carefully.

"I assume…" Romeo's eyes dropped to the floor, his hair falling forward. "That Carlo died. I assume Geppetto thought he would be able to fix it, by building a new one."

Romeo stepped forward. He was still taller than P.

"By building a son that would obey him, this time. A perfect puppet." His mouth twitched, in half-a-smile. "And this one disobeys him too."

"If I was meant to be perfect—" P measured each word on his tongue, before he said it. "Why don't I have two arms?"

He held up his legion arm, twitching its fingers. It was a weapon, and this one more dangerous than the others; this one was designed to spray fire. It was meant to destroy. Maybe Romeo was right: maybe he was only made to fight.

Romeo looked at the legion arm. He raised his own hand. His fingers grazed P's palm. He didn't flinch away.

"Have you ever asked Geppetto that?"

P shook his head; just slightly; just enough that his hair twitched with movement.

"Are you scared of him?"

"No." It seemed P could only lie when he spoke aloud.

Romeo took hold of his legion arm, pulling it towards him, he examined the hand.

"You used this hand to destroy me, the first time," he said. His fingers traced down the wrist. "Do you expect me to say Carlo had the petrification disease, and had to lose it?"

"Did he?"

"Maybe." Romeo shrugged, just slightly. "I don't remember the end. I know the petrification disease reached us, in the boarding house. It makes sense that was how…"

He lined their fingers up, very slowly, and kept them there, in the air. P watched. It was like they were about to dance. The idea made his springs whir.

"I do remember that Carlo broke his arm, once. He broke his right arm." Romeo watched their fingers too. He pressed back against P's hand. "That didn't stop him. He learnt to fight with his left. He learnt to do everything with his left. And it drove the old man insane, when he did."

P's fingers twitched. He thought about pulling away, but found he didn't want to. He couldn't feel Romeo, in that arm, but it was nice to have someone touch him. Someone who wasn't his father.

"Geppetto would not be that cruel."

"Maybe not." Romeo shrugged. "But he did ask you to kill me."

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't." And Romeo looked grave, then. He pulled his hand away, his fingers just brushing P's elbow. "Will you sit with me?"

There were two chairs, on the stage, as though they would be performing. It felt like that. The puppets, of him and his father, had been cleared away, but Romeo had kept the chairs. P sat down, on the edge of one, and looked out over the theatre. It was like an empty cavern. The curtains twitched from a draught.

Romeo rested his chin on the back of his hand, staring at nothing in particular. He was lost in thought, and it did make him look like a king, P thought. He looked like a young and troubled king.

"I meant," P said, softly. "I don't understand why my father would make you a puppet, if he only planned to destroy you, later."

Romeo's gaze flicked to him, and his mouth twitched. "I've never understood Geppetto's games."

"Why were you inside the King of Puppet shell?"

"To look more like a king?" Romeo replied. "To hide my identity from you? Because Carlo loved theatre puppets?"

"He did?" "He did." Romeo leant back in the chair. "It's ironic, isn’t it? But he did think they were wonderful. He'd get so excited to see a new one in action. He loved the Parade Master."

That was the first puppet P had fought. He remembered that fight, in the rain. He didn't say anything; he just watched Romeo. He didn’t want to remember, but he did want to know more. He wanted to understand his father.

"This are all things to ask your creator about."

"He does not tell me anything."

"What do you talk about, usually?"

"We don't."

Geppetto fixed him. He spoke about the things he needed to know. He told him he was a good boy.

Romeo's mismatched eyes met his. He half-laughed, ducking his chin, and his hair fell forward with the movement. Beautiful, P thought, again.

"Nothing's changed, then."

"I can try," he said, because he wanted to come by again; he wanted to see Romeo again.

"Try and remember," Romeo said. "The secret will be in Carlo's memories."

P didn’t have them. He didn't want them. If he started remembering Carlo, then what would become of him? Who would he be? So, he didn't reply. They sat, in silence, for a little longer. Until they heard the bells in the clocktower chime five, and P knew he had to be returning, or his absence would be noted. He made his way to the door.

Romeo followed. He opened it for P, like a gentleman, his eyes still scanning his face. He raised a hand, his fingertips just skimming P's hair.

“I’m sure he didn’t like this,” Romeo said.

“It happened when I saw your necklace,” P replied.

Romeo jolted. A little. He pulled his fingers away, slowly, seemingly deep in thought.

"When you find out more," he said, even more slowly. "I'll be here."

P's springs whirred. He didn't know what to say; what to reply. And once again, he didn't stop Romeo when he leant forward.

He pressed their lips together, just briefly.

Romeo still watched him, as though, this time, it would wake Carlo up.

[sparklepocalypse]

🥑☁️🐝🎨 please.💜

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

I'd get in touch with @cha-melodius for her anatomical knowledge (y'know, maybe I can resuscitate whoever it is?) and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for his legal expertise, in the likely event that the resuscitation doesn't work.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

You know, I've had this username since about 2010, and I honestly can't remember the backstory. I'm fairly sure it has something to do with some sort of arts and crafts project and then-untreated ADHD, though...

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

This might get long, so I'll come back to this one and toss it under a jump. 🤣😅

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

You know, prior to the latest RWRB zine being published, I wouldn't have been able to narrow it down to just one, but this JC Leyendecker-inspired piece by @artofobsession is possibly my favorite piece of fanart that's ever been created. It's just -- even nearly a month after it was first posted, it causes beauty aggression in me and I just want to bite it because it's so pretty and glowy and ethereal and lovely and they're just so blushy and so into one another. It's the first fanart print I've ordered in years, and it's going to go on my wall of ephemeral pretty things with my Lindsay van Ekelenburg art and my various tarot card prints from Kickstarter decks.

[Send me emoji from the Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game and I'll answer the corresponding questions!]

Aight, back to 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

I mean, obviously I'm tagging you first, @ad-astra13, because you're the Most Excellent of Doc Gremlins and your flailing in my Google Docs has been so, so motivating. Your fiber work is really cool and creative! I'm always intrigued to see which project you'll take on next.

And then there's @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, who even with a bunch of stuff going on IRL still takes the time to DM me a screenshot when someone has recced one of my fics, which -- warm fuzzies just everywhere. Val is one of the sweetest, most deeply passionate RWRB fans I have ever met, and her encyclopedic knowledge of all things book and movie have come in handy on like, dozens of occasions in the few months since I've gotten to know her.

@kiwiana-writes and I basically have the same brain in different bodies on different continents, the vibe is so consistent. Half the time I read his work it feels like it could've emerged from my brain instead of his, and now it turns out he's a pretty gifted songwriter too? Incredible, awe-inspiring, iconic, etc.

@artofobsession and I have a Spider-Man meme thing going on where I yell at Hann about their art, and they yell at me about my writing, and it's just a never-ending cycle of yelling. Pretty amazing to consider that I was Too Scared To Say Hi ™️ for awhile there, because I'm a big ol' introvert. Regardless of what Hann's got going on, I've never read an unkind word that's emerged from their keyboard, and they're super well-spoken and yeah, really glad I started making unhinged bulleted lists of art reviews as a way to break the ice, because they're good people.

Speaking of Spider-Man memes, @seanchaidh7 and I have also been Spider-Manning back and forth these last few months. She's created some really, really incredible art for my Big Giant AU, and just genuinely seems like a cool person. I'm happy we stumbled across each other in this fandom!

@duchessdepolignaca03 is one of the best unhinged idea riffers I've met. She deserves at least partial credit for the idea for my RBB fic, because a simple "fic where [x]" message can lead to a thread of dozens (or hundreds) of messages back and forth just flinging ideas out there to further the prompt. Half the time the riff is all that happens, but occasionally, the riff spawns something way bigger.

And there are folks who either I haven't found on Tumblr, or who left Tumblr behind in like 2013 and haven't looked back -- super grateful for everyone who's enabling my weird little brain to do the thing!

[neilwroteathing]

I don't know what to title this, but here you'll read of my Murder Drones OC

It's time! I wanted to make a post about my Murder Drones OC since me and a couple of frens have been roleplaying with them lately, so to give more to this blog and add characters that maybe people enjoy and ask, I present to you in a lengthy post:

Boone Doser

Lots of thank u's, pat pats and sm more to my lovely friend over on instagram @d3athup0n for gifting me this for my birthday, as a bust reference of the big man himself. In this post you'll get to know more about him and maybe a note here or there about the process of developing him.

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Unit BD2, otherwise known by his co-workers as 'Boone Doser' is an Industrial type of Worker Drone within the world of Murder Drones.

Industrial Drones (IDs) are different from Worker Drones (WDs) for the way that they're heavily altered by a company and given specific programming to work as an automated heavy machine and perform more arduous tasks individually. Drones like these were a safe way for humans to have machinery identical to those such as Bobcats, Forklifts, TLBs and like Boone Doser's name implies, Bulldozers.

Yes I'm proud of that pun name

Boone was designed to function in the way of serving in heavy facilities that would require digging, moving rubble or in his case, aid in digging operations.

One of the few models of his generation, Boone was the 2nd model of the Bulldozer line, which was only 5 models total made before the next generation of Industrial Drones was developed. Boone is part of the 3rd generation of IDs and was sent to work in the mining facility located in Copper 9.

Equipped with a heavy duty casing, flexible joints with more rigid segments on his extremities and almost armor-like plating, Boone is built to be heavy and put up high torque. The blades on his back can be removed and attached to his arms, then to be used for pushing and digging by splitting in two parts and connecting once together on his arms.

Another feature not visible is that he does not possess the typical legs a WD would, but instead have his entire feet and part of the ankle be replaced by two sturdy wheels with high grip to traverse smoothly over rocky terrain and step across mud piles without getting stuck.

With all this torque and power, he is a hard machine to break apart without special equipment, blades themselves able to withstand plenty of damage (like a shield).

He wears work approved clothing, such as a safety mining vest, safety goggles and a hardhat (with his name scribbled on the left side)

ALSO HIS HAIR IS MADE OF WIRES AND AH I LOVE HOW IT LOOKS.

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Lots of blah blah about his design and origin, and yes I invented a whole new brand of Drones just for this, bite me.

Now to the fun part!

His lore!

Grengcore was the name of the company owner of the mining facility where Boone worked, which was a company entirely set within Copper 9.

Boone was created in 3040 and sent to one of the mining resource plant, in which he'd work with humans and drones until Copper 9's explosion, which caused the death of the humans and leaving all drones to continue work on their own (which was hard, since none was taught how to send a spaceship with the mined material anywhere)

Either way, he'd develop relationships with almost all workers and mostly positive ones too, him being quite upstanding and serviceable as can be, optimistic, even eventually, developing a link for one of the workers within, being a girl that he'd work alongside with daily, even together during breaks.

This link would continue to flourish into a code full of love, where he and this worker would decide to create their own starter neural network, AKA a child of their own, a compromise solidified after a wedding within the facility, where two rings of quartz were worn to seal the promise and become husband and wife.

After the big day, Boone would be given his name by the workers, who all called him B-2, and his name would be scribbled onto his helmet as a fun gift from his wife.

Time passed, and while working during break hours, a sudden cave-in happened, that crushed the entrance in due to something causing too much movement nearby. The workers instructed Boone to

'Just continue digging'

He'd continue as instructed, expecting the others to soon dig out the entrance as he discovered the cave in to be far more risky to clean out from inside with the chance of a complete breakdown of the tunnel being dug if attempted from the inside.

He'd just keep digging.

The assurance calls from the intercom ceased, and his order remained unchanged

The visits from his wife through the speaker on the single camera mounted in the room prior to the tunnel stopped coming

He wouldn't hear the gibberish of his child with the sweet voice of his wife

His code began to deteriorate with one order starting to freeze onto his programming

1095 days went by as he continued to work non-stop

He had no idea what happened as the days went by

He had no knowledge of where anyone was

He had no other things he knew besides to dig

to replace damaged blades

eat from a huge boxed supply of batteries

run out of wires to light up the tunnel

run out of working explosives

his body wearing away

and finally, becoming a hollow husk of what once was a worker with pride, with friends, with a loving partner and a child he wanted to provide proper parenting to.

If only he knew the carnage that had gone down back in his home, but alas, all he knew now was few things:

Just keep digging, to throw ore to the left, dirt and stone to the right, replace damaged equipment.

Boone Doser became the sole survivor of the mining facility, but not without severe impact to his own self. Only one thing would be able to maybe help him return to reality, and it came in the form of a faulty Disassembly Drone, who took pity on his miserable state, and offered him to escape.

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Okay that was way more than I expected to write-

BUT YEAH THAT'S BOONE DOSER

If you managed to reach this part like... I'm proud of u, and if you want, you can ask Boone questions, see if his poor CPU can answer them.

[1tsjusty0u]

can i present you with a random scenario. what would happen in an au hypothetical where only one of the champions survives the calamity. idk like what would happen for each champion im curious

ywah you can!!

ok this depends on if you mean like. taking links surviving role or surviving alongside link. in my au the former would be.. a bit more complicated? actually that could make for a really fucked up scenario of which i shant say as . probably spoilers? actually no . in wotb link actually dies early (a recent development meta-textually). so basically if hes already in there and a champion has to be put in their instead theres two routes. one he could never be put in there at all, already gone by the time they find the SoR. or two he Is in there but something just Fails Really Badly. it just.. wouldnt heal him. so its a last ditch effort to put a champion in there.

long text below Be Warned.

so while we’re on the topic of that scenario!!! lets start with it!! 1 mipha. she would send out an ok signal to the other champions, and she’d either check on her people first or try to get vah ruta to the nearest champion to help them. or hell she might check on zelda first. i think the plan without link would be to either say fuck it we ball and impa would take zelda to the castle, Or just go straight to kakariko instead as a safety thing. i think she’d actually check on zelda as she’s seen as the most important, then try to reach the champions. i think she’d have the same problems the champions descendants have getting into the divine beasts honestly, though vah naboris would be easy theres no water close enough. vah medoh is not only too high but has an actual shield. vah rudania walks around too much and causes way too much damage to death mountain. she could fire her shot at one of the divine beasts, but that would kill the champion inside it, wouldnt it? so she just resigns to help zelda and impa. she can take care of guardians well enough honestly. her cause of death would probably be either malice or trying to heal zelda or impa While Being Fought at. shes put in and boom 100 years later. i dont know how scales work but i think they wouldnt regrow in the SoR and she’d be left with scarred skin. either rhoam or a zora she knew would greet her on the great plateau. rhoam… wouldnt exactly be happy about. link not being there. mipha being able to defeat her blight is proof to him that shes capable, but also he really has no other options. who else is going to help zelda? mipha had defeated one of his creations.. so she could defeat him. she kind of has to, master sword or not- she’s the only one left. if a zora she knew was there instead i think itd reflect on her personally more? like her healing, her tendency to look after others instead of herself, how she’s dealing with this. the zora wouldnt force her to help zelda, maybe not even telling her. but yeag. still amnesiac, and things go mostly the same as canon besides some.. hiccups. going into zoras domain would have her literally not be able to leave, let alone go to zelda or any of the divine beasts. dorephan and muzu would gush over her because well. they havent seen her in 100 years!! and shes alive!!! she’s been martyred which would be. uncomfortable to her. because she doesnt know who that statue is, even if it looks like her. sure shes calm and nice, but the statues face.. it looks. serene almost. calm. lifeless, dead. vah rutas been protecting the place, and vah ruta would also say hi!! she’d get a memory of herself here which could include her little self or her pre cal self Hiding Things, like vulnerability. itd make her uncomfortable as well!! AND SIDON. sidon would have mixed feelings, but he would absolutely hang out with her in a more.. chill manner. just like. camping and eating. frog hunting. showing her how to ride a waterfall like she taught him. they get to know each other better like. well like siblings. she might do a pre cal and when she suggests leaving while doing a chill hangout she’d do That Smile. the hiding something smile basically, or ‘im the mature sibling’ smile. and sidon would be like ‘youre making that face’ >:( and shed go (sweating) ‘what’. but yeah. sidon would either go with her and travel with her or establish a mail system no matter the cost. They Will Talk damnit. going into other regions is hard when you cant really handle many temperatures that arent in the water. im ppretty sure zoras domain has chillfin trout in it so i think she’d do better in colder weather rather than hot, which sucks because two divine beasts are in hot weather. she’d probably still need at Least a ruby circlet though because hebra is probably too cold, or just sucks because of the snow. death mountain she’d have to put. so much flame resistance elixrs on. she’d also wear a sapphire circlet all the time there even if its not in the flaming zone. she doesnt like the hot springs </3. yunobo and her would-

-get along i think. she’d probably be slightly annoyed at how scared he is but other than that no complaints. he’d be really nice without being a pushover and i think she’d relate/admire that. she’d eat smotherwing butterflies. daruk would be really happy to see her. getting into gerudo town sucks so so soo badly. sand keeps getting under her scales, its Dry, its Hot (during the day), and theres not like. an elixr for her scales. the only real place sand Isnt on her is the lake in the kara kara bazaar. i think she’d put on flame resistant elixir there just so it protects her scales. or she gets some armour to help her with that. otherwise she’s let into gerudo town. vah naboris would be a nightmare for her. she’d have to have like. a hazmat suit for that one. and the yiga!! she wouldnt like them the moment she hears of them, which has to do with link pre cal but saying too much is spoilers. honestly though. i dont think theyd try to kill her, at least not Nearly as much. after all shes Just Some Zora. no sword, no divine intervention. after getting the thunder helm though theyd go after her probably. but yeah she does Not like them and will actually fight them the first chance she gets. this caused problems for the thunder helm stealth mission. urbosa and revali would be impressed to see her but also worried (revali) and defeated/giving up almost (urbosa). she and paya would get along really well and she’d clean with her Instantly. though paya would tell her that she doesnt have to + she should. be doing other things. she’d buy links house which. weird feelings about it so she doesnt really live in it but its just. There. like a memorial. she’d also be annoyed at purah teasing her about having to get parts but she’d mask it. she’d like indexing fish and birds in her compendium, and the sanke carp Fascinates her. she’d like kass’s music and really just sit and listen to him play. she’d also try to tell him what the shrine solution was once she figures it out. though i dont think he’d tell her the calamity legends. impa does however. she’d find lurelin and would So Badly want to go into the sea. however its too much salt. she’d probably fish there honestly, fishing rod and all. also though seafaring is dangerous for her so. no eventide unless a good boat rather than a dodgy raft. she.. tries to make it into korok forest. but she doesnt know how, and if link ever told her how he did it she cant remember. also its Super haunting for her i think she’d minorly see horrors in the mist so. yeah no forest for her. she’d defeat ganon though, and she’d probably live in zoras domain but take zelda with her. OH ALSO HER MEMORIES…. zeldas photos wouldnt help her too much. only 1 has her in it. so she’d get memories based on her surroundings, like how link gets snippets of the champions. seeing her trident would get a memory, the veiled falls shrine would have a memory, goponga village would have a memory, maybe the east post would have one?, and she’d have a zelda memory somewhere in zoras domain (maybe with those history tablets, or in an area with wildlife). and if link has a grave thatd also have a memory. she’d also get a memory of impa because hell yeah. im tempted to make link a spirit that follows her like the other champions honestly. but yeah post cal sidons been set as the ruler so. she can do what she wants. she’d mostly help zelda though.

in the scenario she lives alongside link, she’d tend to him on the great plateau and generally help out purah and robbie. she’d have to be at the domain most of the time though, and she’d be next in line for the crown rather than sidon. she’d grow older and do her best to help with the side effects of the calamity. she HATES yiga even more here than the last scenario. she also hates guardians, but she can take care of even the stalkers now. she’s there to greet link instead of rhoam, and helps him recuperate. she doesnt have a paraglider at first so for him to get down he’d need to climb down. or she couldve made a river system into the great plateau so if he holds his breath he can dive in and out. he still has to do the shrines zelda let mipha know that he has to. she might also travel with him honestly. she’d also spearhead the guardians on the great plateau when she finds out some are active. things would tense between them as time goes on but thats another story. basically old lady who may want to kill.

if revali survived!! uhh first scenario. he would fly all the way to the other champions first, and would check on zelda last. he’d also try to see how the village is doing before he flys to the champions. he cant get to naboris or ruta because he cant see anything, and rudania is at a Really painful angle, and with death mountain erupting.. its a pipe dream to make it there. he dies also to malice, or maybe to a guardian shot. same deal as mipha, either rhoam or a rito he knows greets him. rhoam has the same feelings (+exasperation because of all the champions, it was revali. and he’s a lot more of an old man to him with like changing the deal and teasing him. they would probably fight if not for the fact they dont hate each other). if it was a rito theyd focus more on flying than anything else. actually. he can get off the great plateau. i mean unless he forgot how to glide/one of his wings couldnt work he could. simply get down there. so for plot lets say he forgot how to fly and glide. once he learns how to again he goes to kakariko, and once he learns of rito village hes goes straight there and almost never leaves it. its His Hometown damnit!!! the nostalgia would get to him. though not knowing anyone would be… weird to him. but he’d still love the village. he and medoh would banter but theyd miss each other. he has to get to vah ruta by walking and hes SO mad about it. he would absolutely fight muzu if muzu hated him like he hated link. maybe muzu would doubt his skills and insist no outside help is needed. mipha would be sad probably. not to see him but just to see her family. but i think her and revali would be friends like pre cal and theyd have fun just with now looming dread. the flame resistant stuff would suck to put on, but he isnt going to drink it so he suffers instead. he would probably like yunobo. he’s able to reassure him better and yunobo is like you mentioned more reasonable in general so. yeah!! OH YEAH also he and sidon.. hm. i think sidon would tease him/punk him a lot. be more mean but thatd be why theyd get along in the end. frienemies. vah naboris. would be awful. sand in his feathers the same way mipha had sand in her scales. itd be Doubly hot for him, so he’d have to go at night but rito have terrible night vision so it sucks, and he cant even get into town. he spends a good minute arguing with the guard, not about wanting to be let in but to do Divine Beast things. eventually riju has been summoned and, while exasperated, she believes him. he still has to get the thunder helm, and hes more neutral on the yiga than mipha is. he sees them as a threat but like. he doesnt despise them. if they werent threats itd be fine. i think hes also slightly scared of them. he sneaks through, master kohgas defeated and the yiga are after him, and actually doing naboris hed also need a hazmat suit for. though its a bit better because ARCHERY YEEAAHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥💶💶💶🦅🦅🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹. urbosa would feel the same like she did with mipha, except more exasperated and defeated because Its Revali. daruk would be happy to see him though still. link may or may not be a spirit here? itd be tense at first but i think itd mirror their friendship arc pre cal (of which i need to answer that ask i am sorry) except the roles would be swapped. youll see. anyways yeah. payas meh to him, doesnt like impa a lot but doesnt hate her, would debate purah probably Somehow. he wouldnt buy links house probably. memory locations: his bow and arrow, the flight range, the tabantha village ruins, tanagaar canyon/dinraal, mabe village perhaps, one of zelda same with mipha, links grave, and maybe one of impa. also possibly one at the secret hot springs. post cal he’d constantly help rito village and thats it. Maybe help zelda if she sends a letter but yeah. he’d have to find a hobby though

living along side link. he would also help purah and robbie, though less so. he’d be forced to greet link but in the meantime he’d protect his village and basically become the elder. seeing a young link whiles he old would be… disconcerting. he’d probably feel a mixture of guilt and anger. same deal as mipha though he has a paraglider for him. he wouldnt kill the guardians however and would just find a route for him to avoid them. he’d also be straightforward about what happened to link as opposed to mipha, so their relationship would be less strained as time goes on. he travels with him up to rito village and no more. i think he’d also visit the champion descendants to do his best to help them out.

daruk!! he’d go to the champions straight away. vah ruta is isolated in water which he cant get to (and also has a shield), vah medohs way too high up, and naboris wont stay still, and though hes mighty he can absolutely get crushed by naboris’s legs. god how would he die. yiga misfire maybe???? malice once again?? probably just an accumulation of malice. hed try to instantly leave the plateau (no fall damage like majoras mask goron rock ball form) and while rhoam (if he was there) would try to tease him he’d have to just tell him ‘hey. you Have to do this. Its important. please’ or would straight away tell him the truth. if a goron spirit was there . shrugs. theyd probably focus on strength and building enough to get ganon. goron city, hailed as hero though hes a bit uncomfortable about that and tries to both take it and be mature(?) about it if that makes sense. like hes more comfortable with it than mipha, but it still puts him off a little. vah rudania would hate to see him (rudania missed him so much its unbelievable). vah ruta would be. one Hell of a divine beast to do. he’d have to use a thunder sword instead of arrows, and he’d be A Test to sidons strength as a whole. OH ALSO yunobo would love him !!!!! him bludo and yunobo would probably hang out post cal. anyways. vah naboris he would simply slam into their legs instead of bomb arrows. still would need the thunder helm. master kohga would respect daruk enough however business is business and right now theyre enemies. daruk would not like the yiga like mipha . closer to the hate scale than revali but less than mipha. he’d be pretty pissed at them and wouldnt realize why for a while. the yiga have to get inventive when he becomes wanted which means new weapons methinks!! also he’s let into gerudo town. gorons r genderless so. hell yeah. and. ok so daruk cant get up to vah medoh theres. not many options. either he’s chucked from hebra peak at all of medohs batteries and is finally chucked on board, Or if youve seen klerics 10 ways link can make it up to that divine beast on his own he does that. also also urbosa would have more hope with daruk than mipha and revali. revali would secretly be happy to see the guy. link might be a spirit as usual. memories! his stone smasher, death mountains peak, military training camp, the place where link saved him which he mentions in his diary, the hot springs/springs near the base of death mountain, honestly probably meeting mipha (maybe trading fish) ((where no clue, though he has memories of the other champions like all of them of which they arent the samw memory locations in botw. like miphas statue doesnt trigger a memory for daruk and anyone else ok sorry)), uhh zelda, impa?, links grave, and maybe some place in akkala.

the second scenario he would constantly try to help the descendants rather than link as he figures purah and robbie got it covered, but he visits them while they do great plateau things and they chat!! maybe try to take care of guardians. he would be the most straightforward with link, both in helping him gain strength but in his memories. he’ll offer to travel but wont force it on him. other than that he’d stay on death mountain with rudania. most things wouldnt be a threat with daruk around honestly. just a support beam basically. kind of sad because i. dunno what kind of character arc he would have in most of this. </3

urbosa!!! she’d take a quick glance at her people but go to zeldas and the champions aid. its hard to tell which she’d go for first.. like on one hand she’s biased towards zelda but she just went through a blight and can hear the SOS signals of the others. maybe multitasking? getting naboris to zelda as fast as she can, picking her up/dropping her off (which could lead to some chatting on the way), and then to a divine beast, maybe realizing about a quarter left of the way that theyre already dead and theres no point now. mipha would have a similar revelation probably just.. later. but urbosa dies helping zelda and impa, either distracting something or getting ambushed. great plateau, you know the drill. if rhoam was there theyd have some, “lovely” chats (theyd be So petty against each other. she’d find out her smiting power by trying smite him. though they are friends and have fun and would drink with each other.) and once her whole deal is revealed they have a little heart to heart, and this becomes even more serious to her. she’d go straight to the castle or would reluctantly go to kakariko taking rhoams suggestion seriously. if a gerudo was there it’d probably be more fighting training/regaining strength, plus. warnings of the world beyond this plateau. anyways. impa and her would be besties (though impa would be.. too lax for her). and she’d enjoy paya a lot, maybe try to flex on her to tease her. zoras domain dorephan and her would get along i think AND OH WAIT. SHE HAS LIGHTNING POWERS. if she can get the thunder helm she could finish vah ruta in one strike (though it Does worry the zora a bit). she may throw shade at muzu for his hate of hylians and of the shekiah tech (especially the latter i think). sidon and her would be battle buddies i think, theyd constantly try to outdo each other but still respect each other to have Actual Teamwork. dynamic duo that will kill you. also she makes fun of him sometimes. anyways. mipha would be pretty happy to see her! death mountain. either drinks the elixir first and then realizes most people apply it on their skin so. oops. but she doesnt really care so she keeps drinking it like its champagne. chugging. despite being used to the desert she still doesnt like the heat. yunobo and her would also get along i think!! she would just immediately kill whatever hes afraid of and he looks in. slight fear. though the mines was a workout for her and shes making sure he knows he Owes Her for that one. anyways daruk would be ecstatic to see her theyre Instant Besties. new ghost pal perhaps as well. he’d yell like a sports fan everytime she beats the blight/gets a hit. its chaotic that time the energy is just net positive despite the circumstances. hebra. honestly. she might be ok with it? the desert is cold at night and she lives next to snowy mountains. nice change of pace. teba gets her up there pretty easily, maybe bow troubles? slices the targets with her sword as teba watches in surprise yet defeat. revali and her would, once again, be very petty. however revali would still worry with the blight but she’s fine. i think she’d hate the rotating angle of vah medoh. aaand naboris!!! no freeing to do she just gets to see a long time friend of hers (naboris). she’d love riju and riju may feel a bit of pressure, but over all she’s welcomed back with open arms (maybe some new locals not recognizing her which would be interesting). though she’d have to clear the yiga. now on the hate scale, she probably wants them annihilated (i am so sorry). like riju would have to pull her back saying ‘heyheyhey yeah they suck but dont??? kill them??? or their entire clan????’ which would only barely stop her. she wouldnt even try to sneak through she’d fight them and threaten kohga for the thunder helm. kohga lets her have it without fight and makes a retreat, though he probably lays low? if he hunts her afterwards is debatable because on one hand she Is a threat to them and ganon, but also she Can kill them before they teleport and retreat. so a bit of a choice. also hateno, purah and her wouldnt be-

too much of friends but theyd get along well enough. same with robbie. she wouldnt get links house to her its not her problem. or maybe she does but because she’d think itd be a nice place for zelda. kass and her would just be diplomats to each other. link spirit maybe shrugs . memories!! sword and shield, kara kara bazaar, southern oasis?, shield surfing champion shrine that she did, patricia maybe?, digg dogg suspension bridge, a spring memory with zelda, flora and fauna with zelda, links grave, impa, the champions yadda yadda. the memory numbers probably dont match up between all the champions sorry

second scenario!!! exclusively helps zelda and either stops her from letting ganon eat her or tries her best to fight ganon before retreating and he eats zelda. then she just. wanders. purah probably helping her cope or just. do things. she might even stay in kakariko for a bit, and she moves out of gerudo town. she’d say goodbye to everyone of course. but ywah. also maybe guard kakariko from yiga of which cado would fear her immensely. she’d either greet link or let rhoam do it and just meet link at kakariko and be Cryptic and Vague like he was but push him towards helping zelda, maybe even traveling with him. however she’d probably try to have him stay On Track constantly which would go. poorly. either that or she silently judges him but doesnt say anything. she’d only really hammer in to Go To Castle once all the divine beasts are free. they probably split off though, urbosa going to either chill or help in some way just elsewhere. like helping robbie light his ancient oven and getting guardian tools. also she has more wrinkles now shes super super old

if link isnt revived but the champions arent put in the SoR itd just be a mix of the two scenarios, slowly chipping at the divine beasts while helping out globally and getting old and having to cope with everything afterwards because they still have their memories

this . may not have been what you meant. i am sorry. however. thumbs up

ALSOALSO wanting the yiga dead is not a morally pure/correct course of action for them. it is not morally right thing to annihilate an entire group of people this isnt a bug its a feature. them wanting the yigas dead is not good. just in case.

[youunravelme]

Hope you are okay re the medical issues you mentioned!! Just wanted to say that I cannot wait for Murphy’s Law!! Your fics are truly some of the best I’ve read on tumblr and I definitely consider you my favourite Mat Barzal writer!! Can I ask how you come up with the plots for your pieces? Maybe my imagination just isn’t great but I don’t think I’d ever be able to do it haha

Keep up the amazing work! 💞

i'm good now lol, to summarize my medical problems: i had gallstones and really bad flare ups. i'll probably have to get surgery to get my gallbladder removed at some point, but that's a problem for a later date lolol.

you're too kind!! seriously, thank you for sending sweet messages like this, makes my day/night each and every time.

now i'm gonna warn you, this is way more in depth than you probably wanted, but we both know i'm not good at being succinct.

as far as plot, maybe this isn't the best way, but it works for me. for most of the fics i'm currently writing, i think of a trope and build off that. so for this is how you fall in love, i started with fake dating and built in mommy issues and other female character's internalized misogyny and the reader's insecurity. for the first fic i wrote, head start, i wanted a childhood best friends to lovers for jack. for murphy's law, i took the brother's best friend trope and added fwb to it. for this matty tkachuk fic, i took the second chance romance with a heaping pile of suffering and angst and started writing that.

now for to all the girls you've loved before, i was projecting because i was a nanny at the time (i wasn't in love with the dad lol, in case that was ever a thought someone had) and wanted to create a world where ordinary people could fall in love with a famous person lolol my favorite disney princess is cinderella, can you tell?

for the worst wing woman, i built the story off the reader's profession and personality instead of a specific trope.

but i also use music to inspire me as well! drops of jupiter was taken from the train song but an angstier version, if that makes sense. it's nice to have a friend was inspired by seven by taylor swift.

i read a shit ton of fics (which is one reason it takes me so long to write lolol) and i find so much inspiration in just the words people are using to create beautiful stories and phrases (i'm looking at you @chewingcyanide). i think improving your writing means reading other people's work and getting inspiration from the things they're creating. i literally look at emme's (chewingcyanide, linked above) work and take mental notes at the sheer talent in her word choice, it's so evocative. or i'll look into @thewintersoldierdisaster's works and get righteously jealous of her banter and dialogue (seriously check her stuff out!).

i say all this to say there's not a wrong or right way to write and find inspiration. i think starting with tropes or songs might be the easiest, but i always shoot to make it my own. ultimately speaking, it's about writing what you love and what inspires you the most.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Good afternoon Sex Witch!

I was hoping you could help me figure out how to change how I think about sex and unlearn some prudishness/ disentangle it from more genuine concerns and red flags.

Yadda yadda conservative small town childhood, classic backstory. I definitely got a sense of… I guess, safety and rightness by being very “these things are always bad”; not just sex things but sex was, of course, still one of the big things. Of course, then came puberty, and getting out of my comfort zone, and realizing how toxic purity culture was. Growing up meant, in part, my learning to do better by re-examining things I’d taken for granted.

That’s why I’m asking: there’s a lot of… lingering discomfort with a few things. I realized I still feel pretty… uncomfortable around people who have a lot of sex with multiple partners, along with the topics of polyamory and open relationships. I’m monogamous and I’m not ashamed of that, and of course I keep my opinions to myself when around friends who are happy in non-monogamous relationships. Cuz like, this is ABSOLUTELY a me-problem. I would just like to not feel like this and be unambiguously happy for people I otherwise love living their best lives.

(I’m also single and shy; I strongly suspect that envy over people who can attract multiple partners when I can’t seem to even attract one is a polluting variable.)

Regardless, do you have any links to point me to or thoughts to help me dismantle this ugly bigotry protoplasm? Cuz I know I’m wrong; I’d just like to get the bit of my brain to stop sending these stupid alarm signals.

hi anon,

okay, so, first I just want to say congrats to you on the obvious massive amounts of work that you've done to identify the biases you were raised with and work to uproot them. I know you're here because you feel you still have work to do, and I respect that completely, but I think it's also important to recognize that you've clearly come very far from what you were raised with. being able to recognize when something is a you-problem is HUGE.

I also want to say, as gently and with as much love as possible, that it may not ever be possible to totally 100% possible eradicate thoughts that we don't like. in a way, the idea that we can and should be able to control our impulsive reactions to things is still very conservative, right? it's the idea of "thought crime," except now instead of being upset at yourself for having a sexual thought it's being upset for having a thought that's not sexually open enough.

while I understand wanting to eradicate that unpleasant little "yuck" response out of your brain forever, I also believe very firmly that your thoughts alone don't define you or your values. okay, so your knee-jerk reaction to someone you love announcing that they're in an open relationship is discomfort. but what are your actions? what are you saying and doing? are you lecturing them about their immoral lifestyle, or are you pushing that discomfort aside and doing your best to be supportive of someone else's happiness even if you don't personally get it?

your actions and how you're treating the people you care about matter a lot more than the thoughts that you can't help.

having said that, it's still nice to have some framework for how to work through those feelings of discomfort to at least see if it's possible to diminish them and change that line of thinking. luckily, sex educator Nadine Thornhill just wrote about this in her latest newsletter, which I definitely recommend checking out - Dr. Thornhill is gem.

so, with full credit and hoping that she would forgive me for borrowing, here's an excerpt from Dr. Thornhill's newsletter:

Like all humans, I have a judgey little mind that is constantly observing, assessing, assuming, inferring, and drawing conclusions based on random stimuli. That’s always happening, even when I’m in sex-educator mode. But what I can do (and you can, too, if you want) is practice being mindful of my judgements, especially negative judgements. The most critical part of the practice has been getting curious about my body signals. When someone makes a sexual decision I don’t like, a question I try to ask myself is: What does that feel like in my body? Sometimes, I’ve struggled to maintain that level of in-the-moment mindfulness when working with real people and consequences.Movies and TV have helped me explore some of that stuff. It’s a safe place to judge fictional folks and their fictional sexual choices freely. Meanwhile, being able to pause, rewind or replay a provocative scene lets me take the time to take stock of my physical reactions. With time and practice, it’s become easier to recognize the specific muscle tension and rapid breathing that signals disapproval. Why is this important? We may not be able to stop ourselves from forming judgements about other people’s sexual choices. But if we understand and acknowledge them as judgements rather than facts, we can work to avoid imposing our will on other people. One way we might do so is by asking ourselves the following questions: Does this person’s decision affect my body, relationships, or autonomy? What would have to be true for me to want to make this same choice? What might make this a positive choice for this person right now? How might my own experiences or situations be affecting my opinion? How can I express kindness and compassion while still respecting their right to make their own choice?

much appreciation to Dr. Thornhill for putting this so succinctly; I'd definitely recommend checking out her work for anon and anyone else!

[leighlew3]

For some reason I couldn’t send the link of this post but I could download the picture and send it (hopefully)

This is what I was references in that ask to you lol

Ah. And... yeah. A painful and unnecessary creative choice.

Look, overall I'm loving Picard, despite quite a few issues with some creative choices and contradictions, because this nostalgia is incredible and so appreciated and being able to witness these characters in action again has been WONDERFUL.

That being said... well, I'm about to launch into a ramble.

Buckle up, and keep reading if you'd like...

Picard had an ICONIC legacy female character in an interracial wlw relationship with a dynamic new Black female character -- both women over the age of 50 no less, an amazing thing to explore on screen -- and it worked. And so many fans loved it and felt represented and thrilled to kingdom come. And it fit with the Star Trek brand of inclusion and acceptance in a modern society. It also made Voyager fans of 25 years feel vindicated and seen, having Seven not only confirmed as sapphic, but actually exploring it on screen and finding love, even if a "happy ending" for Seven was never in the cards for many reasons, they could have explored why instead of just sweeping it under the rug off screen and reducing it to one awkward glance between them, a joke from Worf, and that was it. Seven and Raffi deserved better. Queer fans deserved better.

Alas, they tossed it in the trash for no valid reason at all, and at the worst possible time in our current social and political landscape of an outdated and frighteningly dangerous resurgence of homophobia, transphobia, etc. Life imitates art, and art imitates life. And thus, now we see conservative-run media companies catering again to the vocal, hateful little groups and extremist far right fear mongers. There is a very obvious bias of late again against LGBTQ content (especially wlw due to the frightening rise in misogyny yet again lately) across nearly every channel and streamer and studio.

For that matter, even beyond LGBTQ stories, there's also a significant reduction in the exploration of ANY sexuality on screen across the board lately, even for cishet couples. We somehow went from Hollywood being absurdly and unfairly exploitive towards women and putting actors in uncomfortable and unnecessary situations, to some sort of bizarre, puritanical, utterly sexless exploration of romance on screen. And even a reduction of romance entirely in many cases, for that matter. We went from one extreme to the other, and it's absolutely nuts.

Anyway, back on the topic of Picard, the two actresses who previously were captains of the ship and ALL about the pairing have since seemingly now had to backtrack, make excuses for this bizarre decision, or just not speak on it at all. And that's beyond sad.

And again, it makes me concerned that if Seven does get her own spin-off or is a part of a new spin-off again, they'd likely not include Raffi nor explore Seven being with women further. Which would just be LITERALLY going backwards in time to the days of Voyager where many (not all) straight male fans tried to claim her as theirs and theirs alone while reducing her to just "the hot Borg in a cat suit" even though everyone else knew she was three dimensional as hell, one of the best written and acted characters in franchise history, and inherently representative of the LGBTQ community.

Anyway, I really really hope they prove me wrong and Saffi get a satisfying ending in this show, and if nothing else, even if they don't have a future together in other series, any other shows at least continue to embrace Seven's pansexuality. It's important.

Alas right now my trust in creatives in the TV space who are under the pressures of conservative-run media conglomerates... is limited. Even once seeming allies are showing sides to themselves lately that are... concerning, to say the least. People who previously would tell incels to F' off, and weren't afraid to stand up to and block phobes on Twitter are now blocking queer fans for just asking "WTF?" about queer favorites being sidelined or ships being tossed in the trash. People who previously seemed to truly see and value queer fans are now bordering on just using them for clicks and stringing them along on likely hopeless efforts regarding show survival. And people who actually do mean well and usually stand up loud and strong for LGBTQ audiences are suddenly growing very, very quiet if not even in some cases TURNING on their queer fans entirely as TPTB remove more and more wlw content from airwaves and streamer services.

It's all very disheartening. As a writer who has had this conversation so often with producers and executives, I GET IT. The fight is NOT an easy one. And most the time inclusion efforts are flat out shot down. But it feels like so few people are walking the talk anymore. People who capitalized heavily on LGBTQ characters and ships and fans for a few years when it was hot are now turning their backs when the going has gotten rough. And that's frustrating for us all.

But, the good news: these things are often cyclical. So if everybody can hang in there, stay strong, and fight the good fight online and IRL, rock the VOTE, etc and drown out the hateful voices that want the LGBTQ community silenced or worse, then I believe we can set (or force, in many cases) the misguided, fearful, extremist-rightwing-catering media companies back to the proper side of history.

[trans-axolotl]

hi! no rush in answering this and I hope it all works out with your job, sending good vibes. I wanted to ask for some advice as my partner hss AFRID and (probably) anorexia. they've been refered for help for the AFRID stuff specifically and they (for very valid. and obvious reasons) don't feel comfortable opening up to drs about the other loads of eating problems they have. Now they are being monitored and freaked about abt the need to gain weight etc

Im helping them as best I can but it feels very us 2 (and our friends) vs the rest of the world plus that I feel I'm p much winging random stuff that Might help see what sticks. We are trying to find some middle ground were they can make some "progress" so they aren't coerced into something they really don't want to do by drs and so they can have a little more energy etc etc.

We are also both still living at our parents and it's all just not ideal. rn. Any advice at all would help really, is there anything I should do and anything I really shouldn't? just typing it up to someone who won't tell me to force them to get themselves admitted is already a relief tbh thank u for ur work on harm reduction <3

Hey anon! Thanks for reaching out. It can be so hard to find any information about how to support people with eating disorders that isn't just "Go get professional treatment right now," so I will do my best to share some stuff that we've been talking about in my harm reduction + peer support networks!

Correct me if I'm retyping your situation incorrectly, but my understanding of what you shared is that your partner has ARFID and is also having other struggles with eating more related to anorexia in terms of fears about weight gain, body image, etc. Their doctors know about the ARFID and are receiving some sort of treatment for the ARFID, but the treatment is triggering some more of the anorexia stuff because of the increased monitoring.

This sounds like a difficult situation for both your partner and you as a support person, and I can understand how stressful it is to have to worry about coercive treatment on top of trying to figure out ways to cope with disordered eating in the first place. It sounds like you've been doing a really good job supporting your partner and listening to what they need, and trying out lots of different things to see what's helpful for them. I'll share some tips, but as always, what works for one person won't work for another! Asking your partner and collaborating with them to figure out what their exact needs and wants are is always going to be the most important.

@librarycards just made a post about harm reduction in eating disorders that I'm going to link to. I'm not going to restate everything they wrote, but one thing they talk about is identifying what feels like a necessity that can't be changed right now, and what things feel like there could be some wiggle room and space for change right now. If your partner is open to it, it might be helpful to sit down and make a list of what kind of eating disorder behaviors feel absolutely necessary right now that can't be changed, and what things feel more flexible. I think it's really important to be able to do this nonjudgmentally--a lot of eating disorder recovery spaces argue that "recovery" is all or nothing, and that allowing any kind of eating disorder behaviors is a failure. It can be really important to use a harm reduction approach to identify goals that actually feel doable for us, instead of saying the only option is to stop every eating disorder behavior and mindset 100%. That will look different for everyone, but explicitly giving yourself permission to continue some eating disorder behaviors can sometimes help people meet other goals around energy, quality of life, etc that are important to them. I know for me, having both ARFID and anorexia made it incredibly difficult to try to focus on dealing with both at the same time. I completely stopped trying to focus on any ARFID goals in increasing variety or challenging sensory needs, and instead just focused on figuring out coping skills and how to meet the energy needs for my body. Giving myself permission to only eat safe foods, ignore social norms around food, etc, helped me a little bit with figuring out how to cope with some of my restrictive urges. It might be worth figuring out with your partner what goals feel like priorities at the moment, and making a plan together.

Another thing that I found super helpful in my own journey with the ARFID and anorexia combo was learning about fat liberation and discussing it with other people. Basically all mainstream eating disorder treatment doesn't bother to spend anytime talking about fat liberation or fatphobia, and usually actually perpetuates a lot of fatphobia. I think that being able to dismantle the societal ideas we learn about weight gain, fatness, and diet culture is super important for everyone, and I think that for disorderly eaters, it can also be super important to track how that influences our own self-understanding of our eating. This list by Rachel Fox is a great starting point for fat liberation resources. For me, it was super helpful to be able to read through articles and books about fat liberation and discuss them with other people, and build a political understanding of fatness that allowed me to connect what I was reading to my experience with disorderly eating. If this is something that your partner is interested in, having someone to learn + read with can be super impactful.

I think it can also be crucial to think about your own boundaries and needs as a support person. You are not in charge of "fixing" your partner and your partner does not need to be "fixed." You're allowed to not know the answers to things, need to take breaks to support yourself, and to also be going through difficult times. Both you and your partner's autonomy is important, and figuring out ways to support without feeling responsible or trying to control each other can be really crucial. I can tell how much you care about your partner and it sounds like you're doing a really incredible job with all the ways you're providing care. If either of you ever feels like you need a space in your life to talk about this, ANAD offers peer support groups both for people living with eating disorders and for family/friends of people living with eating disorders.

Other than that, there's not a ton I can think of for things you should or shouldn't do, since it seems like you have pretty good insight into major things to avoid (forcing people into hospitalization, making fatphobic comments, reinforcing diet culture, forcing recovery) and are doing a lot of things right (asking your partner what they need, trying things out and being flexible, making room for harm reduction style goals instead of only "recovery.") Keep asking your partner how to support them, collaborate with them on the best ways to provide them care, and continue being there for them through this hard time.

Truly sending you and your partner the best of luck, anon, and hoping that you both can find some care and healing during this difficult time. All the solidarity and please feel free to send any other asks with more questions, vents, anything, <3 <3 <3