#I never want to draw another skeleton in my life

[duckirubb3rcommissions]

Lineart for a drawing I've been working on for a couple days. I've never tried drawing something this detailed before. It's a nightmare, but it's been a lot of fun so far! I can't wait to see what it looks like when it's coloured! I hope I won't disappoint myself. :') I had to Google like every living (and deceased) creature in this picture to figure out how to draw any of them. I regret not practicing drawing animals all my life lmao. I *heavily* referenced the mouse - meaning I pretty much just copied a picture - but it looks pretty fly and it was the most fun animal to draw so idc. I'm taking commissions! If you're interested, check out my about section!

[mooncalfe-art]

Weird question, please bear with me.

So I was in the turtle group chat talking about different methods of turtle shell repair, as one does, and then I remembered Donnie's Terrible, Rotten, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day and his metal shell.

Seeing as a turtle's shell IS their spine and a significant portion of their ribcage, does Donnie now also have a prosthetic metal spine and ribs? and all the Important Stuff that's in the spinal column - the nerves and the fluids and the like... I'm not really asking for you to explain the Deep Biology of mutant turtle skeletal structures, but I AM asking what is up with their spines - are the fused, separate, some secret third thing? inquiring minds want to know.

I think about this same thing every so often, haha. Most artists (even Peter and Kevin back in the day) draw the Turtles with a flexible plastron unlike real turtles, which you can either chalk up to artistic license and cartooning, or you can take it more literally to mean that the Turtles have a more human-type skeleton and their plastron and shell are more spongy sort of armor plating rather than bone like real-life turtles. If I was the only one working on TMNT I'd probably delve more into the biology of it and have it at the outset that the carapace is part of their skeleton and is rigid like real turtles, but it's impossible to set that kind of thing up in a series with a ton of people working on it and expect it to remain the same across the board, so I usually just don't worry about it. I'm also kind of boxed in a bit by Donatello losing his shell and, thanks to the ooze, somehow receiving a new one that Fugitoid I guess just sticks onto Don's back and he's good to go. There's a panel in that particular issue (I forget which one it was) where Don is about to be operated on and he's lying on his back on the medical bed, but I always wondered what's under his shell, then? If he has no shell I'm guessing it was a huge exposed wound, and if so why is he lying ON the giant gaping wound?! Haha. And then it's like if the Turtles' carapace is flexible in IDW TMNT, that must mean it's NOT part of their skeletal system and in that case why would Don even need a new shell? Clearly thinking too deeply about it, haha.

In any case, since I took over as writer, I've tried to go by those rules that Tom set up as much as I can, like when I had Don's old broken shell (which Tom never accounted for, where did it go after Fugitoid removed it??? So I decided to draw the old shell having been tossed into a dumpster, lol) be attached to Venus, like if the surgeon has a healing agent like ooze or the Dragon scales the way Fugitoid and Dr. Barlow did, it seems like they can just graft components (whether organic or inorganic) onto anyone however they like regardless of what the internal mutant biology is. In Venus's flashback in my Alliance #4 issue, I did draw her spinal column visible when the shell is being grafted on though, sort of as a nod to the skeletal system thing but not explicitly solidifying the biology of it.

Another way I think about it is that mutants haven't undergone any sort of evolution as a species, their biology doesn't have to "make sense" or be useful in a natural selection evolutionary way. The mutagen kinda removes all the specialized traits from an animal, so the Turtles' carapaces have lost whatever traits gave rise to regular turtles' shells over millions of years. Mutants are outside the evolutionary process, so the Turtles' shells don't have to be biologically useful or advantageous or even really have anything in common with normal turtles. The mutagen reconfigures an animal into humanoid form and it'll recode their DNA to any extent to acheive that end result, so maybe it built the Turtles' a new skeletal system and their shells are purely vestigial.

I feel like I'm getting way too deep here and it only makes it more confusing, lol. So to answer your question, if I had to pick one of the options you listed, I would pick "secret third thing." ;)

[arachnixe]

A Doll's Doubts

In a reality in decline, crumbling, decaying, nearly gone, one last island holds out for a while longer against the erosion of everything.

Once there was a whole world here.

Once there were stars overhead.

Once there was night and day and a sun and a sky for it all.

All that remains on the island is some picked-through ruins, a crudely built table, two seats, a mismatched tea set, and an assortment of flotsam that drifted to shore.

Two figures sit there, enjoying their tea party: a doll with star-stained hands and her favorite skeleton.

Their cups are empty, but neither one is much for actually consuming anything anyway. Nevertheless, the doll brings a cup to her lips periodically as she meanders from topic to topic. The skeleton remains silent and still, but the doll is chatty enough for both of them.

“…and that’s the tale of the Scary Spider Who’s Actually Really Nice!

“That’s a really good story, Dolly. I liked the part where all the dolls lived happily ever after.

“Thank you! I’m glad you liked it. This next one is, uh…”

The doll looks around her for inspiration, peering into the chaotic uncolor noise of the sea surrounding them on all sides.

There is no horizon to look out toward anymore. The sea of Unreality extends in an unbroken line outward and upward into what used to be the sky.

It’s not that she quite sees shapes in the hiss and roil of everything that Isn’t, but sometimes her mind makes a pattern where none exists, and that is enough inspiration to draw upon for her storytelling.

There isn’t much else to do here, after all.

Today, however, something finally shifts inside her, and she finds she cannot push aside her worry.

“It’s coming closer, huh, Miss? What happens when it reaches us?”

“I don’t know, Dolly.”

The doll falls into uncharacteristic silence.

“You always used to know everything.”

Hands twist the makeshift tablecloth in front of her.

“But nowadays I do all the talking for you, and it’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“I don’t even know how much of what you say is really you, and how much is only pretend while you’re just a grumpy skellybones sitting there.”

“I love you, Dolly.”

“Do you really? Or…is that what I want to believe? You never said those words to me when you were alive!”

“I did not feel that way while I was alive. I was not kind to you. You deserved better.”

“Miss, I…”

“You rescued me from profound loneliness. You did not have to. I did not earn that loyalty, and I must strive to repay it.”

The skeleton who was once her witch does not move or speak, but there is a feeling that her words echo something alive inside it.

“You really are in there, aren’t you, Miss?”

“Of course, Dolly! I’ve been your best friend since you found me again!”

“So…what do we do?”

“You’re the witch now, Dolly. You’ve got all the power, and I’m just a skeleton. It’s gotta be up to you.”

“Oh…well, if I’m the witch, then…” Dolly ponders, hand to chin. “A witch has gotta have a doll, right? That’s the first thing.”

“Oh yes, definitely!”

“And that means I need ingredients. Hmmm…”

She moves to the collection of things that have drifted to them over time.

Dolly sifts through the pile of mostly incomprehensible odds and ends from beyond reality. Much of it is in materials beyond her life’s experience, in shapes that defy her understanding.

Eventually, she discovers a single large slab of ordinary-looking wood.

“Miss, you can teach me how to turn this into a doll, right?”

“Of course! I’m really good at dolls. I made you, after all, and you’re the very best doll!”

“Okay, but I’m a witch now too, don’t forget!”

“I won’t, Dolly. And if you put my bones in the doll you make, then I can be your doll too!”

“Oh gosh! That will be so much fun! We can do all kinds of stuff together then, huh?”

“Yeah!”

“Like…tea parties. And telling stories, and, and… Maybe fixing the world so we can still be together for a really long time?”

“Or cracking what’s left of this reality open and slipping through to another one.”

“Oh! You always know what to do, don’t you, Miss!”

[autumnmobile12]

“Simon, I have watched you repeatedly hit a bullseye from two hundred yards while riding at full gallop,”  Catherina said.  “I can’t do that.  Leona can’t do that.  I’m not even sure if our father can do that.”

...

Simon loved his family dearly.

It was just they were a little ‘much’and as a result, he preferred to keep his visits to home short and infrequent.  Supply runs, nothing more.  Even now, he’d lingered in the village longer than he’d meant to, though that was on account of Mother.  He’d meant to leave yesterday morning.  His provisions, no doubt including some well-meaning gifts from family who missed him, were still packed and arranged neatly by the door.  All that needed doing was saddling his horse and rounding up his dogs.  Yet when he had come downstairs, well rested for the four hour journey ahead, he found Mother already awake in the kitchen, staring forlornly out the window.  Sypha had never been a morning person and three growing children had not changed that, which led him to conclude she either hadn’t slept well or she feared he would slip away with little more than a note of farewell.

Whichever it was, she heard his step on the stairs and turned to him with a smile that would have convinced him had he not seen her sadness prior.  Was he ready to leave, she asked.  Did he have enough food?  Was he warm enough in his mountain shelter?  Would he like help preparing to leave?  She sounded so genuine in hiding her heartache from him that Simon only felt a sharp pang of guilt.  He loved her, really he did, and he weighed the selfishness of his desire for solitude against the sadness his departure would bring for his family.

...

He loosed the arrow with a quiet hiss.  It cut through the air like a lightning bolt and struck the doe in a quick, clean shot through her shoulder.  Simon quickly drew another arrow as she faltered, but he needn’t have bothered.  After a moment, the deer slumped quietly to her knees and then collapsed softly onto the earth.  Lowering his bow, the young man made his way out of the undergrowth.  When he reached the felled deer, he knelt and bowed his head.  “Forgive my taking of your precious life.  May your spirit depart in peace, may your body nourish my family and people.”

Note: His name comes from the Lords of Shadow timeline.

Simon is the enigma of the family, and honestly the one I really struggled with developing.  His sisters are both remarkable in their own way with Leona being the formidable warrior and Catherina the skilled mage of the siblings.  Finding something that would both set Simon apart from the girls and yet balance out their talents was a challenge.

I at first played with the idea that he feels pressured by the feeling of being overshadowed by his sisters, ignoring or even discrediting his own abilities and struggling internally with the idea of living up to his family’s expectations.  But that’s an archetype that’s really cliché, and I wanted there to be more to his character.  Archery was one of the first things that came to mind.  In the medieval period, especially for England, archery was high in demand for the English wars.  Bowmen were crazy strong to the point their skeletons are actually deformed to such a degree that archeologists can identify their bones in dig sites.  So this is not an idle skill by any means.  The strength need to draw a longbow requires years of dedicated practice.

The idea of him living in the mountains came from fur trappers who live in isolation throughout the winter, which led to Simon’s love for solitude and animals.  He keeps hunting dogs, naming them after archangels and war goddesses.  He's gifted with animals, so during his time in isolation, he catches falcons and hawks to train and sell to the wealthy citizens of nearby cities.  He’s also a skilled herbalist, both a healer and a poisoner.

Throughout, he seems to have the quiet bearing and dignity of a shaman or a monk, which aligns perfectly with his mother’s heritage.  In his early years when his personality was first developing, his tendency to wander off to play by himself was a source of concern for Sypha.  Coming from a culture that places value in community, she found her son’s solitary nature odd but ultimately harmless. She doesn’t know it, but in this, he takes after her father, who passed before she was born.  For her peace of mind, she taught him her ability to manipulate fire so that he would never freeze during his travels in the mountains.  Alucard checks up on him frequently, too.

In temperament, Simon has two outward modes of operation and almost zero in between.  For the most part, he has the quieter, more somber elements of Trevor’s character, but like Sypha, when Simon reaches his breaking point, he is perfectly capable of losing his shit.  It’s always a source of awe for the rest of the family and a pretty effective gauge in telling when things have officially gone too far.

In the end, despite his extreme introverted behavior, Simon’s love for his family is boundless.  He’s never hesitated to drop everything when he hears there’s trouble at home and he always comes back for the village festivals.

Key words for Simon:  Independent, resourceful, patient, calm.  The Belmont outrider and keeper of the woodland.

...

His Siblings

Leona

Catherina

[04dissection]

You know what? I'm not hiding this please have all of my crane wives music assignments for the prisoners plus Es(Note: I am not confident on all of these):

Haruka: Empty Page

Cut me a path, and I will follow it, Draw me a line, and I'll avoid it- I'm nothing if not obedient. You have my word.

You'll do it better, show me how. You'll do it better, show me how. Tie me up by my callow belief, Someday I'll make something out of me, Years of imitating mastery, Only made me a better thief.

Yuno: Pretty Little Things

I cut straight to the heart. I don't believe the pretty little things that you say, I've heard a lot of little pretty things. Don't buy me flowers, It pains me to watch pretty little things wilt away.

Maybe you're right, and maybe I have been used up, By another man's hungry hands. And maybe you're right, and maybe I have been ruined, By another man after him- But maybe I'm the one who's right.

Fuuta: High Horse

We get what we deserve, We never really learn.

I keep tallies, I keep score. I'm a petty thing on a high, high horse. You've got your mouth open, I hold my tongue, There's so many things that we can't ignore.

You are never gonna change her mind, so don't try.

Muu: Icarus

They're burning down the orchard to the soil, To the soil, to the grave. Spreading out the ashes of a love, That only gave and gave.

Our hands are pulling everything apart, Fall apart, falling back- Tell yourself there's no more need to lie, We don't have time for that.

Leave our footprints to be lost along the ground, Oh my brother, my brother, my brother, There is nothing left to bring me back down.

Shidou: Metaphor

I cut my teeth on secondhand sentiments, You can't trust a single thing I say. I keep my closet free of skeletons, 'Cause I'm much better at digging graves.

I've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape, And all these words are sweet and meaningless!

Mahiru: Strangler Fig

Now I'm trapped within your walls and all I want is to be free, For as Winsome as you may be- All you're doing now is losing me

From your pulpit what will you preach? How to live a good long life that's full of suffering.

Oh, I Gave you everything I had, Now I, now I want it back!

Kazui: The Well

All the words I couldn't say to you, Fill up the spaces in my chest, Like spare coins poised on the tip of my tongue, I make a wish and hold my breath.

Oh, the damage I'd have wrought- That old house, those rotting memories, Burned easier than I'd have thought

Amane: Scars(from what I know, this one has only ever been played live! So no studio recording if you look for it)

I’m not the person that I thought I was- I couldn't tell you where the ache came from. Maybe born in a storm beneath an angry sky- Now it’s raining in my head nearly all the time

All the love, all the kindness, all your best laid plans, Couldn't stop me from becoming the way that I am.

Was I born with a hole in my heart? A fatal fault at the start, Tell me it’s inevitable that I’d end up with scars.

Nothing could’ve been done, Is that right?

Mikoto: Queen of Nothing

Stop the car, I wanna get out. I'm craving open air and solid ground. 'Cause I've been watching from the backseat, Watching the world slipping past me.

Isn't this what you wanted? Time sure feels like it's running out- Just finish what you started.

On and on to the next town- Can we slow down?

Kotoko: The Wolf

I am not a builder, I'm much better at blowing things down

I light torches in my sleep, I have gasoline in my veins- I am always burning, burning, burning

Can it be easy for once? Cause I'm no good at being kind to myself, Or anyone. I am a falling axe, I am a sharpened knife, I am a poison asp, I am a risk to your life, My love.

I am a beast at your back, You better run for your life. Your life.

Es: The Crooked, The Cradle

There's blood in the water. The quiet are restless, the silent are still. I'm nobody's daughter.

I won't pretend, My season won't end. But I pray When it's done, when it's through, I'll have something left for you.

Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? The crooked are smiling, they know me the best.

[sweetchildcloud]

||PRETENDING|| ル ˖ ♡ ₍ ᐢ..ᐢ ₎ 📍 ࣪ . › written by me

Yuji x reader|D*PRESSION TRIGGER WARNING

Plot:You felt down about everything and about your art style so Yuji tries to cheer you up

Tags:You're Yuji best friend,self loathing,hating towards oneself,crying,venting,not eating nor drinking,vomiting,anorexia(reader)

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

Art not mine⚠️👐😟,if you know the artist let me know in the comments

P.S: i have made a dark theme blog go check it out! Minors DNI!

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia

"My drawings sucks,my art style is horrible,my favourite characters looks shitty in my art style" You sobbed wiping away your tears "I'm not good enough even at what I like"

Yuji sighed and gently brushed away the remaining tears on your face, his thumb gently circling your chin. he didn't like seeing you like this, he hated it, in fact.

Seeing you like this, and knowing your mindset towards life, made him realize that no one would be more devastated than him if you were to ever disappear from this world.

"your art style doesn't suck." he said quietly. "i quite like it, actually. and i'm sure others do too."

"But...I tried to draw you but..it's not in a realistic style or anything...it's just...simplified style" You whimpered takout your sketchbook and handing it at Yuji

he took the sketchbook from your hands, looking at the drawings you were referring to as he quietly flipped through the pages.

despite you calling it simple and being disappointed with it, he thought they seemed lovely. it was quite different from how other people drew and he really liked that about your style.

"and i love it." he replied with a small smile as he looked up at you again. as he did, his other hand slipped underneath your chin again and tilted your head upwards so that you were now looking right into his eyes.

"But I don't" you sobbed covering your face "I don't and I hate myself for it because I'm not like others"

his grip on your cheek remained firm as he held your face upwards. all of these thoughts, self-inflicted pain and negativity you had towards yourself had to end one way or another.

"you're right, you're not like other people. but that's not a bad thing" he spoke softly once more, while the hand that was holding onto your cheek now also moved to gently caress your cheek.

"and that's exactly what makes you unique" his voice remained gentle as he maintained eye contact with you.

"but i'm not like you aither,i'm not happy,positive i don't smile at life"

"well, i don't want you to be like me" he responded with a soft chuckle.

his fingers stopped the gentle caressing motion and moved down to your side.

"and trust me, i'm the furthest thing away from being fully happy"

he paused once more, before finally speaking again.

"i… i wish you could see yourself the way i see you"

his eyes scanned you up and down. as he did, he realized just how frail and thin you looked, as if you were some walking skeleton. the bags underneath your eyes, the pale colour of your skin and the fact that you rubbed your hand once more told him the things you never mentioned but he always suspected.

"how long was the last time you ate?" he questioned quietly.

"i…" you couldn't bring yourself to answer the question. you didn't even know how much time had passed since you ate last. you simply shrugged your shoulders, trying to avoid the topic.

he seemed unamused by your answer.

"tell me." he asked forcefully this time, his tone having shifted into a stern one.

you remained silent. you weren't going to tell him that you hadn't eaten in days, and you knew how much he'd hate this.

he'd probably think that he wasn't doing enough, that you weren't eating because you were upset or that he somehow wasn't doing enough to keep you happy. and, well, you didn't want that to happen.

"I'm not hungry" you finally spoken up, and even that was a lie, but it was better than admitting the truth… right?

he sighed as he heard your words.

his grip on your hands tightened once more as he stared at you, his gaze turning into one of irritation.

he didn't fall for your lie, and he was not going to take "i'm not hungry" for an answer.

"so, you're telling me you haven't eaten anything in over-" he paused, unsure of just how much time passed without you eating. "days?"

"why does it matters anyway?" You pouted looking away and turning your back at Yuji

"because you're killing yourself by not eating." his tone remained harsh, but he refused to loosen his grip on your hand.

"and i don't like that." he said simply.

he wasn't lying when he said that he didn't like that you were doing this to yourself. when he saw you starving yourself, he felt like he'd do anything to get you to eat again.

"Well I don't feel like to" you replied looking away "I don't feel hungry,I don't feel thirsty"

"well, even if you don't feel like eating, you have to." he replied once more, and it was only now that you finally noticed how tightly his hand held onto yours.

his grasp never loosened, despite your attempts to move his hand away.

"how about something to drink then?" his tone had changed slightly, as he asked this question. "just anything."

You sighed as you looked down "a tea" you whimpered feeling weak

"tea?" he raised an eyebrow at you, before gently letting go of your hand.

he was now on high alert when it came to your habits of not eating and starving.

"follow me." he said quietly.

yuji walked to a nearby cafe, gently keeping an eye on you, and once you were there, he ordered you some green tea along with anything you wanted to eat.

"take a seat" he said as he guided you to an empty table.

after getting you a table, he sat down opposite of you, eyeing your movements. he didn't like how you looked, it was clear that you had been starving yourself.

"now, you're going to drink that." he said simply, gesturing to the glass of green tea in front of you. "then, you're going to eat something."

even if you didn't feel like eating, he was going to make sure that you ate something. his gaze was firm, and he wouldn't accept no for an answer.

his gaze remained on you as he waited for you to take your first sip of the glass of green tea.

he could tell immediately after you took your first sip that the glass of green tea would be the only thing you had that day.

after you took a few more sips, he took a small plate, filled it up with some sandwiches and placed it in front of you.

"eat." he said quietly but strongly, as his gaze remained on you the entire time.

once again he noticed how you looked away when you glanced at the plate of food.

his jaw tensed slightly, and he moved the plate of food closer to you.

"try a piece." his tone was firm and there was little to no room for negotiation.

With your trembling hand you tooked the sandwich but as soon as you bited it...you felt nauseous and you runned to the bathroom of the cafe

the second he saw your trembling hand and noticed the uneasiness on your face, he instinctively knew the outcome of it all.

without letting you get a word in, his instincts kicked in and he was quick to sprint to the bathroom.

he found you hunched over the toilet sink, gagging and struggling not to empty your stomach.

"god damn it..." he muttered under his breath, his hands balled up into tight fists as he glared at your small frame.

his jaw tightened as he heard the sound of you gagging and throwing up some of the tea.

he was fuming on the inside but he kept it in, taking deep breaths to calm down.

he took a step closer to you from behind, and without thinking much, he started rubbing your back, hoping to soothe you atleast somewhat.

*just calm down* he repeated to himself in his head, hoping that it'd work, even just a little.

he held you in his embrace, staying close even when you were still gagging.

as the sound decreased, his hand continued to rub your back until you stopped throwing up the tea, a sigh escaping his body as he breathed in relief.

he was now holding you in his embrace, waiting until you'd calm down a bit, his expression showing nothing but annoyance as he looked down at you, waiting for this madness to finally stop.

he sighed softly as you finished throwing up. the entire time, he made sure not to let his grip on your back loosen, until you finally stopped and there was a hint of silence from your end.

once you had quieted down, and there wasn't any sound in the bathroom at all, yuji spoke up again.

"are you done?" he asked quietly.

as he waited for your response, he noticed how you were still trembling, whether from the aftermath of the throwing up session or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything all day, he couldn't tell.

with his other hand, he grabbed a small pack of napkins, before passing it over to you.

"wipe your mouth, and then wash your face." he said softly this time, as he finally released his grip on your back and stepped away from you.

"I'm...sorry.." you whined "I.. I tought I could overcome it all by myself" your coughed

as you apologized to him, his eyebrows furrowed slightly when he heard the sound of your cough. you sounded like you could cough up a lung at any moment, and just hearing your frail state, it made him feel terrible.

"you shouldn't have attempted to 'overcome it' by yourself, not when you know how much you struggle." he replied as he watched you wipe your mouth with the napkin.

"now, wash your face."

he paused when he realized how shaky your hands were, and as you struggled to grip the pack of napkins with ease, he was silently reminded of how frail you were.

he wasn't going to let you do everything on your own anymore.

"come here." he said as he beckoned you to come to him. once you were closer to him, he grabbed the pack from you and began wiping down your face for you.

after he wiped down your face, he noticed that you still seemed like you were struggling to stand up. with the lack of food and the exhaustion it caused you, it was no wonder you were so weak right now.

"sit..." he instructed gently with a gentle push towards the sink.

after you did so, he grabbed a paper cup, filled it with water and handed it to you.

"Drink this." he said quietly.

he noticed the way you were struggling to grip the paper cup with your frail hand, and it only further reinforced to him that you needed to be cared for more than he initially thought.

he was right. you weren't eating or drinking enough.

"drink... slowly." he added on, as he watched you drink the water.

after you had taken a few sips and seemed to take your time with the water, he finally let out a sigh of relief. at least you were drinking something.

he looked at you for a few minutes more, seemingly inspecting your small frame as you sipped on the water, before finally speaking up once more.

"are you feeling any better?" his tone was still slightly concerned, but there was a much softer edge to it, unlike earlier where he spoke with more firmness.

you weren't the type of person to admit when you were physically not feeling alright, but you could never lie to him when he did ask you. you tried to hold back your groan of pain though, it was getting increasingly difficult to do so as your stomach was protesting the emptiness.

you were exhausted, both mentally and physically, and you had barely eaten anything today. your stomach was in pain and your head felt like it could split at any moment.

"bad..." you said quietly, with a hint of an ashamed tone in your voice.

you sounded so weak right now, and it broke his heart.

he was so mad at you for refusing to eat all day and for not telling him about it, but all of this only caused him more concern. he didn't understand why you were so persistent in hiding everything from him.

"do you want to leave?" he asked softly, his gaze still locked onto yours.

you thought about it for a moment before you slowly nodded your head. you definitely weren't feeling too good at the moment, and the thought of staying in a cafe for any longer made your head hurt.

you just wanted to go back home, to lay on your bed and close your eyes for a little while.

"then, let's do that." a soft smile spread across his face as he spoke, before gently grabbing your hand and beginning to lead you out of the bathroom.

he had to guide you out of the bathroom, as you were still so weak from the entire ordeal.

you were trembling and your legs felt like they could fall out underneath you anytime.

the more you tried to walk by yourself, the more apparent it became that you were exhausted.

he kept a firm grip on your hand, as he held you in place and led you out of the cafe.

when you walked outside, the cold breeze made you shiver as your body adjusted to the sudden change in temperature. you were clearly uncomfortable and it was evident as you stopped walking and shivered once more.

he noticed the way you were shivering and it took everything in him to hide his annoyance.

he really couldn't stand how hard you worked to maintain this facade of yours, trying to act like everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

"here." he said, as he wrapped his jacket around you to help with the cold.

"i don't need this." you spoke up, as you tried to shake off the jacket.

he looked at you with a stern gaze, his grip on the jacket remaining firm.

"you're obviously cold. we're not going to argue over this, you're wearing the jacket." he said sternly, but he couldn't help the slight irritation that laced his tone.

"but i said I don't need it…" you began to protest, though he interrupted you.

"well, I said you do. put the jacket on…" instead of arguing further with you, he simply began putting the jacket on you himself.

as he did, he remained closely positioned behind you, his body pressing against yours. he was keeping you warm as you were still trembling, the jacket was surprisingly large on you considering the fact that it was his.

"that's… way too big on me," you said out loud, as you felt how much space you had inside the jacket.

"well, it's better like this." he muttered before pulling the jacket more tightly around you.

since the jacket was big on you, you were able to fit inside of it quite snuggly, your body pressed up against his in the process.

his breath quickened as the feeling of you pressed up against him was much more apparent now that you were wearing the jacket.

he could feel your body, he could feel the heat radiating from your skin and he could feel every slight movement you made.

it was such a strange sensation, and for a brief moment, he felt tempted to lean his head onto the top of your head, which would certainly be better for his comfort, as well as hiding how badly he wanted to do that right now.

the way that his breath quickened caught you off-guard, and you noticed the sudden shift in his breathing.

but then, quickly, you remembered that you were pressed up against his body at the moment, and this is most likely why his breath had quickened.

there was a silent pause as he remained standing behind you while you were wearing his jacket, both of you remaining silent for a while until he finally spoke.

"you're still trembling…" he said quietly, and he continued to keep his body pressed against yours as he spoke.

"yeah, i uh…" you were unsure how to respond when he made that observation. you did indeed still feel cold, and you were shivering quite a lot.

even with the jacket on, you were still trembling and you thought it would lessen, but it had barely changed at all.

it only further made you realize just how frail and skinny you were…

"i'm fine… really" you said quickly, although it was quite obvious that you were lying.

"we should go to home now"

"right, yeah" you quickly nodded your head, agreeing with him.

you were still feeling extremely weak, and you wanted nothing more than to just go home and sleep the entire day.

you were so tired, both mentally and physically. it was about time for you to lay down for a little while.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

when you got home, yuji led you to your bedroom, and you sat down on your bed.

you groaned and laid down shortly after as you felt your eyelids begin to droop a little bit as you closed your eyes.

yuji noticed the heavy bags under your eyes and it annoyed him because he immediately blamed himself for stressing you out this much.

but, even though you looked horrible, you still looked so beautiful to him, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from your frail self…

even if you were physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, he couldn't help but notice how pretty you looked in this state.

how small you looked as you laid down on the bed, it really was quite adorable.

even though he was irritated with you, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming urge to just go over and lay down next to you, and just embrace you…

he got on the bed next to you, laying down on his side so that he was facing you.

he laid his arm around you, pulling you in closer, and he brought himself even closer until he was almost pressed up against you.

he let out a soft sigh as he smiled down at you.

"get some sleep…" he whispered, as he began to slowly stroke your hair, hoping it would help to soothe you into a long and comfortable sleep.

he continued to stroke your hair for a while longer before he stopped and closed his eyes, allowing himself to sleep as well.

it had been a long day. for you and him.

your body relaxed as it was pressed up against his, and you could finally feel yourself slowly slipping away into a deep sleep.

you felt safe in his arms, and for a brief moment, you forgot about all the stresses that you had to deal with during the day.

[battlemaiden13]

I was admiring that drawing you did of all your personas in different stories, and I wanted to know what “isaka” was. Did you mean isesaki or is it something else? The design is nice and I figured it’s undertale related, so I’m curious.

Yes I meant isekai, where the protag gets trapped in another dimension, I just can't spell and it would be a harem slavetale type thing.

MC has read so many fanfics of Undertale and different Au's and is obsessed with the skeletons, like a full on fangirl. In classic isekai fashion she gets transported to one of this stories but as the villian of a slavetale story. She's not to concerned about that but wants her favourite (skeletons) to have a better life then they did in the original story before they are freed at the end. Being the villian and rich she sort of starts collecting skeletons but theres a catch. She has to make the monsters hate her and make sure their life isn't too good otherwise she'd get accused of harboring monsters for like a sanctuary and they'd get taken away to much worse situtations. She struggles with fangirling over her favourites, knowing how they would react to things, keeping the story on track and making the skeletons hate her so they can have their happy ending while knowing they will never like her. MC is also just really nice so most of the skeletons can see what shes doing for some added comedic value. That's why that persona is in such different clothes too, shes trying to play the mean girl villian but is very cliche about it.

It's just one of the stories that's been in my head but that I will probably not write for a long long time.

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

Away from the Concierge's Desk - The Harbinger Cometh (Part 55)

In the minutes and hours since the Manager last saw her Concierge, she sits. Sits and thinks. Thinks about the bloodshed in New York, in Osaka. And if her sources are to be believed, Paris.

Where does it end. When the High Table extinguishes them all? Or when they prevail over the High Table? Or when all fighters have fought their last, with no life left to live?

So she sits. And thinks.

These machinations have put her on a path that she can no longer stray from. No doubt she and many others with her will suffer. But at the end of that suffering...peace.

Or, that's the goal anyway.

Surely she still has that goal in mind...right?

She couldn't possibly have lost sight of it.

Surely not.

She lowers her gaze to the report on her desk, written by her loyal Concierge. From this, she can see just what her Concierge faced. What Wick's presence had wrought.

Alas, she is not afforded any further time to consider the report. Not when the phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Good afternoon, ma'am," it's not her Concierge's voice, but that of another receptionist. "A Harbinger is here to see you."

Well, she knew this was coming.

"I shall receive them in my office. Please, send them up."

"At once, ma'am."

Papers and drawings disappear into drawers, pens into their holders, and she puts a kettle on boil. Just in time to hear the chime of the elevator, and the sound of the doors opening.

"Manager." Comes the slow drawl of a Harbinger's voice. One that is very, very familiar.

The Manager looks up to see a tall, broad man with a bald head and piercing blue eyes. "Ah, so you're the Harbinger." She smiles a wan smile, then. And raises a tea set. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

The Harbinger tilts his head, looks at her with those sharp, yet strangely empty eyes. "Certainly. However, you might decide there is little time for it."

Her heart stops.

"Hmm, perhaps not, then," she sets the tea set down and goes to her desk, standing by its edge, looking up at the Harbinger. "Well then, what are you here for?"

"A warning," he says slowly, raising his briefcase.

Her eyes go right to it. Too light to hold an hourglass, too heavy to just be a single missive.

He places it on the table, and slowly removes a sheaf of papers from it. It is bound with thread and ribbon as black as night.

"You have made your point," he says, placing it on the table, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Oh?" she says languidly, moving to sit, not even reaching for the papers. From the way the Harbinger closes his briefcase, he has no intention of taking it back.

"Your Concierge has made their choice to stand by your side. Despite the overwhelming odds. Despite their previous...discipline." The Harbinger looks down at his missing left ring finger, then looks up. "It was very obvious. The red outfit was an...interesting decision."

Red, the colour of blood. Of danger. Of warning. Do not touch me, lest you lose a hand. That was what the red clothes meant, or rather, is meant to convey. That the person who wore that red flag of warning was once a killer of renown, who despite their ruined hands is still incredibly lethal, is the entire point.

The Manager's way of conveying a warning with no words at all. She will tolerate the loss of one Hotel, but not another. Not without due cause.

Though to have only one individual carry out that warning...it was a gamble.

For the first time in this conversation, the Manager's eyes flick to the side. "Yes...the Devourer."

"If you wanted to make it obvious who your Concierge fought for, it didn't require the very...flashy choice of clothes. The same applies if the motivation was to send a message to the Marquis." The Harbinger sounds disapproving. "They are lucky to be alive. Thanks to their...compatriots."

The skeleton brothers.

At that, the Manager's eyes flare angrily. "Are you done?"

"No," the Harbinger tips his head forward to let the brim of it shadow his eyes. "Your decision to flaunt them, to display their loyalty in such an obvious manner. To use them as a message. In that way, you are no better than them."

Them. The High Table. The Elder. Men playing at being gods, making the world around them dance like puppets upon their strings. No. No, she will never be like them.

Soft little pops fill the air. The Manager clenches her fists tight, so tight as to crack her knuckles. "Now that..." she sneers dangerously. "Is an insult."

The Harbinger is not moved in the slightest, though the muscle in his jaw ticks once. "Think as you like. But you and that Monster Queen are playing a grand game...a game which you cannot win. So do your Concierge a favour, and release them before they are bound by that promise they made to you so long ago."

That promise...

Words spoken eons ago float through her head. Her memory of that day as clear as crystal.

"If you take up this position, you're binding yourself to them. You'll lose your freedom. You will abide by their rules. I have seen it...you will become like them." Her Concierge. Although, at that point, a disgraced, disfigured, Emissary.

"I will never become like them."

"That's not a promise you can make." Ever practical. Ever logical.

"...Fine. You want a promise I can make? Here. If I ever, ever stoop to their level, you can rip out my heart."

"You're not serious. But you told me that--" That the Devourer's days of ripping beating hearts out of the chests of their quarry was over. Their hands would never recover that monstrous strength.

But she had no doubt those hands will have strength enough for this one request.

"This is your one exception. The only person whose heart you can rip out while they still live? Mine. You can even eat it after, if you so desire, Devourer. But you will stop me. No matter what it takes."

"I don't actually eat it but...very well. I shall hold you to that promise."

And just like that, the memory fades. The Manager huffs a mirthless laugh, shaking herself from her reverie. "Releasing them will do naught. It is a promise I made, and it is a promise they will keep." She looks down at the sheaf of bound paper. Touches it. Draws it close. "What is this?"

"An intercepted report to the High Table." Comes the Harbinger's toneless response.

What? Hawk-like eyes flick up and look at a man who the Elder had bent to his will. Or so the world thought. "And what, exactly, are you doing with an intercepted report?"

Those strangely empty yet sharp blue eyes seem to warm, seem to fill with knowing, and the Harbinger smiles flatly. "Why, giving it to you. Of course."

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours Incorrect Quotes

I got bored and I'm having a major's writer block so I messed around with an incorrect quotes generator for Show Me Yours

(here's the link for anyone interested: https://incorrect-quotes-generator.neocities.org/)

Tommie and Matty

Tommie: Matty... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Matty: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Tommie: Tommie: I wrote sanitize, Matty.

Tommie: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Matty: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Tommie, desperately, as Matty bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Matty: Oh! B positive. Tommie: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Matty:

Tommie: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Matty: Oh, I’m always running Matty: The question is from what

The Band

Tommie: Bye Matty! Bye Ross! Bye George! Bye Adam! Bye Matty! Ross: You said ‘bye Matty’ twice. Tommie: I like Matty.

Matty: I’m an idiot. Ross: George: Adam: Tommie: Matty: Tommie: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

Tommie: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Matty: I witnessed the dumb stuff. George: I recorded the dumb stuff. Ross: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Adam: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Matty: What does 'take out' mean? Ross: Food. Adam: Dating George: Murder Tommie: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Adam: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Matty: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Tommie: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Ross: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! George: My moral code, is that you? Adam: Adam: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Matty: Ross, can I talk to you for a second? Ross: Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Tommie are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Matty: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

George: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? Tommie: The car takes a screenshot. Adam: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Adam: This is such a bad idea. Tommie: Then why are you coming along? Adam: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Adam: Tommie... Tommie: Oh no, 'Tommie' in b-flat. Tommie: You're disappointed.

Tommie and Others

Tommie: Caleb and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Caleb: Sentences. Tommie: Don't interrupt me.

Tommie: Am I in trouble? Jamie: Take a guess. Tommie: No? Jamie: Take another guess.

Mitch: Must be hard not being able to laugh Tommie: I do have a sense of humor you know Mitch: I’ve never heard you laugh before Tommie: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Phoebe: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Tommie: You mean literally or figuratively? Phoebe: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Phoebe: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works. Tommie, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

Jamie, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Tommie: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Jamie, with the tone of someone who is used to Tommie: Outstanding. Jamie: This is what I’m talking about people.

Jamie Cook: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Tommie: The cow??? Jamie Cook: What? Ross: Tommie, W H Y?

[gloomyglosse]

Hi there! I recently finished my six ocs fanarts! I'm really happy with how these came out, and I especially love the characters! :D Everyone here has such cool OCs and I really loved drawing them :)

Sa' Turnus - @legogeek33

Ayah - @paprikko-lol

Hanan - @giftofjay

Chat - @pangolinsandnewts

JMN - @roguendeavor

Viridius - @fiddler-sticks

Sa'turnus (Legogeek33)

Hi there! I know we've never really talked before, but I was the one who sent you an anon about your ocs! I was looking for a sixth character, and a friend brought up your characters, so I sent the ask! All three of the characters you sent me were sooooo pretty, and I'm super curious about their lore. If you have a post about them that I missed, or you just want to tell me in the tags, please tell me! This character was sooo pretty and fun to make.

Ayah - (Paprikko-lol)

I love ayah!! Her powers are so cool- I always thought smoke was such a cool power, and shes just. WOW shes cool and pretty! If you want to infodump on me ever, I'm all ears! Her clothes are really cool too, but I actually found out when drawing her my pencil pack comes with NO purples, so I had to find an itty bitty crayola pencil instead 😭. I love her design though!

Hanan (giftofjay)

Ok. Minor confession: when I got to your character you had deactivated your account by then, so I had a little bit of trouble finding your character's ref again! Still, I'm really glad I found it, because your character has such a cool design. A master of healing is such a cool idea- why haven't they made one yet!! I'm starting a petition to make Hanan canon, haha. I also read the info posts about her, so I gave her painting supplies because shes an artist! I love her so much 💛⭐

Chat (Pangolinsandnewts)

Chat has such an awesome character design- im totally jealous of her hair. As I was drawing her the hair was the most fun part I'm totally obsessed with it! As for her lore, I'm super curious about her relationship with the other SOG members 👀. Also, it was my first time drawing sunflowers, haha, so they might be a little wonky! Still, Chat totally rules, and she was super fun to draw- especially her hair! The ombre is soo pretty <3

JMN (Roguendeavor)

I'm soooo sorry about his skintone- my gray pencil was having the worst day of its life and i erased it like twelve times 😭. Still, theres some extra stuff I tried to put in there. The skeleton guy is supposed to be an angel, and the necklace his hand is on is supposed to be angel feathers! (I was thinking they might be remnants of his wings 👀). I was inspired by priest clothing I found online. JMN is a really cool character and as I was drawing him I kept thinking of stuff to add- I love the idea of fallen angels!

Viridius (fiddler-sticks)

Viridius is such a goofy goobster I love him SO much. I drew him in the midst of a water balloon fight with his classmates (ten bucks says he started it, haha!). Its so sad that other kids dont like him- I hope he gets a cool power it better friends to make up for it lol. But hes such a fun character. Drawing a snake man was a little difficult, but I had a lot of fun drawing him, and I liked the detailed descriptions you gave alongside them!

Thank you everyone for letting me draw your wonderful OCS- theyre all so cool and I can't express how much I love each of them! These are not the best quality, so I may try to post them again at another time! :D

[chim-aera]

immortality

immortality.

it's a pretty little prison.

all wrapped up in gold and embers, copper chains, and ruby brimstone, how lovely is it, to look Death in all his splendor, look him in the eyes and solely grin.

I want to be like that.

but gods above, I don't think I want to be immortal.

everlasting.

oh how divinity is etched into our bones along with the spell scripts of sigils to hell.

throw me a bone and see if I sink or swim. gnashing teeth and ribbon wound, what I wouldn't do to fly.

but I'm here.

instead.

not sinking, not floating.

here.

a pity.

Isn't it?

like peach pits in the stand of apples.

immortality.

yes.

humans have many words for it.

we're addicted to the splendor, the madness, the draw of it.

but how they don't recognize the cruelty. but oh, do they still grasp with clutching, clawing little hands.

immortals.

take vampires, for example, Slavic in origin, but romanticized with soft, sensual smiles dripping with blood-stained lips. ivory points against my neck.

give me freedom.

time.

or drain me dry like a fruit shriveled in the sunlight.

it's a coin, death and life. but the life is in the dying.

there is no everlasting in life eternal. perhaps it's a metaphor. to show humans can truly never live for ever.

mortals.

it's in the name.

Latin.

mort.

death.

ones who die.

mortals.

immortality is the opposite of humanity. but let's also not put humans on a pedestal, we've seen what happens there, and the real monsters have no flashing fangs.

now there's another prospect.

example.

they go by many names.

sidhe.

seelie.

unseelie.

tuathe de danaan.

fae.

and as much as those glinting undead with cloaks and capes and soft little whispers of velvet and bat flight, they have no grasp on me.

not like those wretched and righteous ones of moss and morbidity.

skulls and deer bones.

moth wings and cobwebs and chaos.

laughing.

like fox barks.

sharp and shivering.

bony hands like skeletons, like branches, skittering like spiders down my bosom, down my spine.

would I shriek or soften into them? a cat leaning into a caress.

give in or go out in a glory of fists and futile efforts.

no.

I've never been heroic.

I know the horrors.

but my soul holds no salt, iron, or holy water.

I'd rather much burn, most likely, I am all vervain, and mugwort, and mishaps. rabbit wry and wolf wild.

but gods.

gods it isn't the immortality.

it isn't the promise of never dying.

but perhaps, that is alluring too.

for unending, flawless fingers to trace over this rotting flesh and make me right again.

like I was ever right.

but also, perhaps, it isn't that.

perhaps, just maybe, I want someone to see me, see this awful, putrid mortality, and love me regardless.

but then I'd still fade. like a match sparked too soon. no,

no, no, no.

I don't wish to hurt them.

but it's better then being hurt, I'd rather first wither then ever lose another again.

no.

no.

no.

no.

please no.

Thanatos, please.

perhaps this is why I am drawn to monsters.

beasts.

creatures. claws, and horns, gaping maws, grins both wicked and charming and terrible, oh so terrible.

hauntingly wonderful, achingly beautiful. the list goes on. but oh, I want to be wanted.

but oh no, how I don't wish to love something Death can reach his slanted scythe and harrowing hands for.

I'd rather take his offering myself and let him feel my cold, pale palm against talons and ash.

perhaps he'll have mercy, perhaps he'll wrap a chain around my throat and send me down to wherever things like me reside at the End.

or maybe, he'll simply set me free.

but nevertheless.

I want one thing.

love.

oh, oh how fickle, how predictable, how human. isn't it?

but can't things that aren't human love too?

I'm a child again.

gods I feel so young.

youth was snatched from me on wilted wingtips and now I'm some creaking vessel both new and ancient sewn together crudely with wire and silk.

what am I?

oh what am I not?

but love.

affection.

how I want to be wanted.

to be craved.

I have been running and hiding and fleeing like a deer with hounds at its hooves for so, so long.

I want to be chased.

to be stopped.

to be held.

I fear I will jolt at the first touch of softness, so I long for someone that does not let me.

gods, perhaps when I do get free, I'll only crave a bigger cage.

but I still do want love.

but I look for it, in all the wrong places.

the plastic pot of my wilting emerald perperomia.

the faded edges to my indigo coat.

the perfumed silk of my grandmother's shawl.

no where.

everywhere.

the night sky.

the forests.

the clutching, clawed hands of treetops.

the silent downy beat of snow and rain.

stories.

pages.

libraries.

I will walk alone, with my boots sounding against tile.

alone.

alone.

alone.

I seek to be alone, yet I'm reaching like Icarus to a height that'll only ever singe me if I find it.

I think I give up on love. but oh, how that is a bitter little lie.

I'm so tired of tearing off little pieces of my soul to act as bookmarks for my stories I hold so dearly.

only to come back to those pages and find those beloved bittersweet artworks of meddle and mind and ink and ebony staring up at me unchanging, immortal, while I wither here to dust.

what will I do with myself when I'm older?

will, and if I even make it.

I'm more then two decades old.

I'm no moon eyed maiden, no innocent owlet with the world at their wings.

molly grue, but never amalthea.

where were you?

where were you?

oh, I still haven't found you.

I'm jaded.

and harsh.

flitting by with what ever is left of my empathy, my ever beating heart, sewn together with pin heads.

I am here.

yes.

I am here I am here.

but sometimes my mind is so far away my body and psyche are not the same vessel.

I'm so tired.

of wanting to being wanted.

crumbling like quicksand, like drywall, like dried flowers in a fisted hand.

let my petals color you, like inchor, not bloodstains, and let me fly into the wind entirely disregarded as nothing but a tragic little misadventure.

funny.

isn't it?

how I'm so remarkably cynical.

tell me you adore it about me.

or better yet, tell me what I do wrong.

a sharp slap to my jaw feels kinder then a kiss right now.

perhaps I really am undone.

so I'll keep spinning, until I find the thread to Lachesis, Atropa, and Clotho, teach me how to knit.

to stitch.

maybe then I can put together my aching soul.

perhaps.

or they might just wind me up in red ribbon and send me back down to the hellscape mortals reside again.

back to this sorry sarcophagus of a body I reside in, to creak and wail like a splintering elmwood banshee.

is it ever my fate to tell?

but never feel.

gods above I believe it is sometimes.

cursed to either be the omnipotent omen or some cursory comfort for some to drink down like chamomile and cough syrup.

until I'm brushed aside and disregarded like a moth eaten coat, kept only in the closet for sentimentality and the use on a rainy day.

I don't want to be that.

some velveteen rabbit only alive after I've been let go to the crows and clutches of the other wordly.

but I'll suffer it.

I will.

oh I sound pathetic sometimes, I say I don't want pity but I could drown in it.

but I don't want to.

I want to live or go out in a blaze of scroll smoke and stardust.

or maybe.

just maybe, feel alive again.

I have no need for immortality, although, I admit, the prospects are tempting.

but only would I accept it if it was the nectar of the gods as I was Psyche and my lover Eros.

a promise, of truth, and devotion so deep, not even Death will hold us instead of each other's arms.

I would never be Chang'e.

my Honyi would either have my elixir, or we'd both go out mortals.

If I ever find my love, not even the gods themselves could wrench them from my talons if they meant harm.

but no claw marks would ever marr their skin.

I'd rather burn alive then to contribute to a caustic terrible love.

I may not be all goose down and goldenrod, but I will be soft for them.

you.

whoever.

whenever.

if.

longevity.

I watched my grandmother pass, a month after my grandfather, crumbling to ashes like a phoenix with no feathers.

glorious, but oh oh oh so sad.

I don't want to be her.

I adore her.

I can't even mourn, she doesn't feel gone.

I feel more dead then she does.

how is the irony in that?

but, immortality.

I suppose it sounds nice, on a weekend, or Mondays, but never stretching through time like a monotony of mortality.

unless.

unless.

I had someone to share it with.

but don't go tossing me a vial of the fountain of youth freshly bottled.

no.

I'll wait.

I'll rot.

if I have to.

I already am.

but maybe, just maybe.

if I'm not untouchable for mortals just yet.

someone, monster, or man, warrior, or woman, finds me.

maybe I'm enough, or maybe I'll just be here, an hourglass of a cacophony of sorrow and syllables.

but for now, who knows, I feel like I'm running out of time.

but perhaps, it's just me running.

like I always have been...

[penumbramewtwos]

Happy (late) New Year to all of my Friends, Mutuals, Followers, and Peeps I'm following… (and most likely have a restraining order out against me xD) I love you all (platonically)

I wasn't going to do one of these because I felt as if I wasn't worthy of making one >.< I've only been on Tumblr for roughly half a year. But you've all made me feel so welcome and cherished in your own way; passively or actively. I initially made this profile to just say 'HI' to TC96, their blog was one of my main influences.

I then built of the courage to share my Fanfic online (that I swore was going to stay with me)…. One thing led to another, Now I want to draw my character(s) and learning new artistic things everyday… I never thought in my life thus far that I would make any friends, I find it hard to portray what I mean on a social level, and in general writing. I'm also sorry to anyone I've made unintentionally go "??? WTH's she on about???" Thank you for being patient and understanding over these months. I will be a better communicator as time goes by. After having an online incident happen to me a decade ago, I swore I would never interact with anyone online ever again… Be careful with what you share about yourself online is all I can say… We all have skeletons in the closet that haunt us, and toy with our sanity. (Now, after isolating myself for a decade with my partner, this has been the best decision I've ever made).

@xhunterbeatsx You're One of my first followers, and although that's special enough, I can't thank you enough for your support and encouragement. If you're wondering what do I mean by this? You've been both indirectly and directly influencing my dopamine output with your art and kind words. You made the first Fanart of my OC which I cherish dearly, apart from making me cry, it encouraged me to peruse art further. Thank you again.

@martysgachaworld Although the time we've known eachother has been short, I can't thank you enough for bringing out a confident side in myself. It took years of encouragement/help from psychologists to help me come to terms with my biology, but, I always felt shy about portraying my sexuality publically… Now after talking with you, I feel proud to say I am Lesbian. Not just "Oh… I'm asexual… My partner is a woman…" changes the conversation. … You've been through so much in this short time that I've known you, and, as always I want to say, that all of your friends are here for you, and love you very much (platonically).

@paradoxiusblack Also one of my first followers. Your art always impresses me, as well as the detail that you've put into your OC's. I find you thoughtful, kind, and genuine… And also a little silly sometimes :> (Happy Birthday again)

@secret-mewtwo Thank you for introducing me to Discord, I've never felt more included in my life, and it is mostly your doing :P I your art is fucking phenomenal.

@crepetwo You put up with my derpy shit, that means the world to me. Your personal artstyle, and creativity always makes me impressed (we are now Fanfic rivals btw)

@the-project-and-the-ghost Thanks for letting me express myself in DM's, and trusting me enough to express yourself back to me, it's hard to trust, and you put up with my dumbassness a lot. I promise to be better at social/written comprehension, and being a better friend in the future

@ricksoo You just put up with me, that's the fucking best xD I appreciate you very much

@mewwho @noodleartz Both of your art styles and personalities make me smile whenever we interact. Thanks for all your encouragement on many occasions. I promise I'll be better at comprehension in the future, thanks for putting up with me :>

@droberrymewtwo629 Thanks for introducing me to the RP's on Discord :3 they're always fun and make me feel like I can be a little silly.

@xxtc-96xx @pokemon-ash-aus @mewtwoandme @comedydoctor18 @faeforge @dxzziie @mewcrew @dizzydaisygettinglazy Although I felt nervous (to the point of scared) about talking/interacting with any of you, I've realised you're all human(or a friendly Mewtwo xD), and it's a privilege to have such lovable large-audienced artists feel so close… I also love your Art/blogs/storylines. Did i mention that? xD

@blues-sues @kantaroth Your art and art styles are so beautifully unique to you both, they're narratively perfect in their own way, and give me encouragement to keep going with my own art (I LOVE PIP!!! MA BABY!!!)

@zeal-strikerl Thanks for putting up with my 'Here's an animal piccy' on Discord, I wanna interact with Demontwo one day >:D!!

@esmam1ss2n9shu773r @wren-idkfeather Both of you are so very kind to everyone who you interact with, and some of our down to earth rebloggs/comments have made me feel more together when i've been down in the dumps. Thank you.

There are so many more of you which have made me feel welcome… this is just the tip of the Iceberg…

THANK YOU!!!

[akkpipitphattana]

no the thing that's really killing me about this episode is that like. ray was being so sincere in all of this. that man was genuinely trying to move on, with sand! & yes, he was a little too precious about defining their relationship as anything other than friends, but that was for some really good reasons! he hasn't fully moved on from mew, he's not totally sure how he feels about sand yet, he probably doesn't want to jump into a technically-rebound relationship inevitably doomed to end with hurt feelings, & also sand's the one who told him they were only ever going to be friends. the last time he pushed that boundary with someone, he was explicitly threatened with getting cut out of their life entirely. i'm not dissing mew for drawing a line, but ray's been burned here, & very recently. he is trying to respect sand's boundaries & feelings, like sand asked him to, because he cares about sand. & yes, he over-corrected, he was a little too tentative & left sand with a lot of uncertainty, but i think he was really trying here. he was opening up to sand & learning about him in turn, spending more time with him & deepening their connection, met his mom, & i really think they could have worked through their shared hesitance & fear of overstepping. they were getting there. & then boston careened in & fucking shattered it! i am so upset

sand and ray are so heartbreaking to me on principal because it's like. here you have two very broken people, two people who have both gone through hell and back, two people who genuinely, truly care about one another, that try so hard to be genuine and honest. but they both have walls, they're both terrified, they both have skeletons in their closet, and they can't help but hurt each other.

and everything this episode was just proof of that. we get to see them spend a day together, sharing in their interesting, letting each other in, having so many sweet little moments. but they still hurt each other! it's "i don't trust you with my life" and "i'm not his boyfriend" and boston's whole thing!

and like here's the thing. objectively what boston did was wrong, he shouldn't be poking his nose somewhere it doesn't belong. it's not his business. but even without boston popping their bubble, it was going to happen eventually. because ray DOES still feel something for mew, he is still holding onto those feelings, and this new thing with sand doesn't change that. he's trying to move on, yes, but he's also limiting it. because he doesn't think he can actually be loved, which is why mew is an easy thing to latch onto. because he doesn't and won't feel anything for ray.

but sand does. which is why ray keeps bringing up the they're just friends thing. because yes, sand said it, but ray has to. ray is the one that said friendship and sex can coexist, ray was the one that said he wouldn't want sand as his boyfriend first. sand played along. and he's still trying to, but you can visually SEE how much harder it's getting for him to.

and especially now, with him realizing that ray is in love with mew? oh he's just got to feel so used. he thinks he was making it all up in his head, that ray never felt anything for him this whole time. and ray knows that sand feels something for him, it's why he's so apologetic. despite insisting they're friends, he knows. but it's not like he can tell sand that he doesn't feel anything to mew because he'd be lying and outside of insisting that they're just friends, ray isn't gonna lie to sand. especially not when it would mean hurting him even more.

[jacobsneed]

Many thanks to the lovelies @v0idbuggy @inafieldofdaisies @cassietrn and @theelderhazelnut for the tags! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Bit of a slow week, mainly re-reading things and changing words and dialogues, and also just getting wrapped up in TOO MANY new ideas, and have also become obsessed with cooking again lol

Been having fun working on the lil bittersweet Niko/Tatjana piece/chapter(??) and mainly working on putting together a playlist, which works great for Music Monday! :D So as tradition, my indecisive ass will plop a few songs I've been listening to while writing this chapter(?) since I can never choose just one!

"Where is Ljubica?" he inquired amid the gentle hum of boiling water. Tatjana peered at the small clock nestled among memories before letting out a tender laugh: "The nights young, she could be anywhere." She sighed deeply: "She says it calms her, biking around." She returned bearing steaming tea and retrieved a cigarette from the rickety table beside her.

"Is she always out in the city?" Niko asked as he gazed out through rain-streaked windowpanes; seeds of worry beginning to grow. "Out on that bicycle? Even in this weather?" He sought her reasonings amid the storm.

Wearily, Tatjana shrugged. "It's been hard for her lately, I don't always understand what goes on in her head." she confessed, failing to ignite her cigarette, the flame of life long extinguished. In frustration, she flung the lighter to the floor while cascading blonde hair shrouded a ghostly visage mourning the loss of what once was. The weight of longing settled over them both; tracing tender aches and sorrows that, like rain-laden clouds, held within them the potential to nourish in time.

From the depths of Tatjana's introspective chasm, the forsaken cigarette found solace upon her lips – Niko, the tender guardian, bending to her side, taming her locks, and igniting her reprieve with his Zippo's flame. A whispered "I'm sorry." echoed through chambers of remorse and longing for a time that once was. Drawing from those hallowed memories, he claimed his own smoky respite and joined her at the border of reverie.

Her touch – a whisper of connection against Niko's hardened hand – beckoned him to share in their silent symphony. "Niko," she breathed between puffs of clouded smoke, "Eventually you need to stop apologizing to me." Her thumb traced canyons of scars and battles won in the tales their hands told. The quiet hung heavy around them, masking an unyielding bond in tension's weighted grasp.

"I've ruined you," Niko confessed, eyes raw with unshed tears, "It’s my fault Dragan died, I failed to keep you safe, sent you and Ljubica across the world alone" As crystalline pain threatened to overflow from Tatjana's eyes, she spoke his name, but he pressed onwards: "I’m empty."

"Nikola," Her firm tone belied the tenderness beneath. "You can't keep doing this to me." Fingers tapped ash to oblivion whilst another breath drew a deep smokey inhale.

As Niko gazed upon her fractured countenance from beneath shame-streaked lashes. "Though I love you," she trembled before the bittersweet tide threatening to overtake her voice, "I cannot fix everything that is wrong with you, in your soul."

Taglist (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ | @socially-awkward-skeleton@cassietrn@inafieldofdaisies@voidika@afarcry5fromstraight@vampireninjabunnies-blog@captastra@v0idbuggy@derelictheretic@poisonedtruth@florbelles@detectivelokis@beeutifulllov3r@fly-amanitaa@oreo-orca@dumbassdep (Like this post to be added to the taglist! 💙 )

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 23

“Last time, on Total Takes Island: those lazy, ungrateful maggots got swept up in a flash flood caused by Chris’ weather-making machine and were left on a deserted island to die. The skinny one got lost at sea until he paddled back, accompanied by a crayon drawing with the same IQ as him. The other three ended up together in a treehouse after glasses and sarcasm central got themselves spooked by a fake dinosaur skeleton, even though the green one knew it wasn’t real. Eventually, they all found production camp and the drawing took the walk of shame. Yeah, it’s me doing the recap again. Got a problem with that?!” Chef shouts. “Chris is off on his paid vacation so I’m hosting today’s episode… again.”

The rain has finally cleared (or Chris’ machine just ran out of oil) and the sun is finally shining again over Wawanakwa. It’s a bright and sunny morning, the day before the next challenge, though no one seems exactly enthused about it.

McLovin is hidden away in the craft tent, making macrame owls (which he’s been producing in droves, filling his cabin with), Ass locked everyone else out of the communal bathrooms so they could take a long shower, and Michael and Julia are glaring daggers at each other across the mess hall.

The breakfast today was left out on the counters- a cold, chili-like substance with just enough spices to completely cancel out the flavor altogether- and Chef is nowhere to be seen. Julia mixes the reddish-brown slop with her spoon before forcing herself to take another hesitant bite. The silence hangs heavy over the room.

Finally, Michael speaks. “Where’s your boss at?”

“They are not-” Julia pauses, seething. She takes a deep breath and calms down. “Showers.”

“And you’re not there to wash their feet like a good disciple?” she asks, smiling at her own joke. Julia glares.

“Absolutely not. I’m not their employee, we’re allies,”

Michael rolls her eyes. “Oh, right, just like how I was your friend?”

A deep silence falls once more. Julia stands and scrapes the rest of her plate into the garbage before sitting next to Michael.

She sighs. “I really am sorry, you know. I didn’t think you’d get so upset. I guess I didn’t start thinking about other people until-”

“Scruffy?” Michael raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Julia says, balancing her chin in her palm. “It’s so stupid. They’re totally smart enough to know that they were being played, and they helped me anyway.”

“Have you considered the idea that they actually liked you?”

Julia bites her lip. “Maybe. But that… and what happened with Ass made me realize how bad I screwed things up between us, even though we were never really friends,”

“Well,” Michael pauses and then smiles. “We could always start.”

Julia smiles back, and the two shake hands before the intercom screeches to life.

“Attention, campers! Report outside your cabins at 0900 hours- and that means now!”

---

McLovin is already out, sitting on the grass and making a macrame owl as Chef watches and shakes his head sadly. There’s a large, boxy TV set on a cart sitting out on the grass besides the two.

Ass fluffs their newly shampooed and dried hair as Julia stands next to them. She takes a breath for a second before turning to them. “Is that my shampoo?”

They shrug. “I ran out,”

“I only had enough left for-”

Ass holds a finger to her lips to shush her as Chef begins speaking. Michael rolls her eyes from nearby.

“As you may have heard, I am in charge of tomorrow’s challenge. But before that, Chris left these instructions for me,” Chef says, holding up a piece of paper. “He wanted to give you all some… extra motivation.”

McLovin stands, holding his owl. The remaining campers glance at each other nervously.

“So, here’s a few encouraging words from your fellow campers,” he steps back, turning the TV on. Footage from the confessionals begins to play.

---

BONNIE: “What do I think of Julia? Well, besides the fact that she’s a backstabbing little witch who loves to insert herself in everyone else’s business, she’s rude, scheming, passive-aggressive, and downright annoying. But at least she’s not Ass,”

---

COURTNEY: McLovin and I have been best friends since the very beginning. I’m not surprised this dumb drama show is trying to tear us apart,”

---

MICHAEL: “Julia’s not exactly the nicest person on the island, but at least with Ass here, she isn’t the meanest,”

---

ASS: “McLovin? Please. He’s the exact opposite of a threat,”

---

SCRUFFY: “Listen, I know Julia’s sucking up to me extra hard to get my vote when it comes to the next few elimination ceremonies, but, I’ll admit: I kinda like the attention,” they pause to smile. “Plus, when we’re not in the game, she can be pretty cool to hang out with.”

---

The screen goes static and everyone turns to Julia, who’s just beaming. Chef rolls his eyes and thwacks the top of the TV to get it working again.

---

SHA-MOD: “McLovin?! McLovin is my best homie on the island, possibly in the whole world! I hope one of us wins so we can move in together in a massive dream mansion and open an oil rig or whatever rich people do!”

---

The screen goes static once more. McLovin wipes a tear from his eye. Chef sighs. “Most of the confessionals people gave about you, we can’t air due to profanity,” he says, squinting at Ass. “But we still got some left.”

---

MAX: “Don’t air this, but… I think Michael might like me. And, honestly, I… don’t hate that. I can’t take any chances, but maybe when I win I’ll have the guts to ask her out. She’s just so… you know?”

---

Michael smiles, her face tinted pink as the screen goes static again before turning to Julia.

---

JULIA: “Do I really believe that? No. But I need an ally and, well, to be frank, Michael has always come off as kinda desperate.”

---

JULIA: “Okay, how is that little twig still here? I totally miscalculated, I should’ve picked his pathetic ass off way earlier!”

---

JULIA: “I guess I should keep her on my side for the merge, but still… all that drama for what? A chick who can’t do anything but whine and argue? Um, yeah, I’ll take my chances with the egghead.”

---

JULIA: “Natalie- and yes, I’m not using that stupid name for her- is easily one of the most contrived, self-absorbed players we have. I cannot believe they’re still here.”

---

JULIA: “Me? Scared of Michael? Can you imagine?”

---

Chef turns off the television set. “That one had a lot to say,” he grumbles, wheeling away the cart. “I’ll see you all tomorrow for your next challenge!”

Everyone turns and glares at Julia, who smiles nervously. Ass flips their hair over their shoulder and walks off as McLovin hangs his head and holds his macrame owl close.

Michael just glares. “So much for new friends, huh?”

----

The sound of birds chirping and squirrels chittering seems louder this morning. That’s the first thought Julia has as she wakes up, sitting on the furthest bunk from everyone else (where she’d been banished to last night).

She rubs her eyes, scanning her surroundings. As her eyes adjust, she gasps.

“We’re in the woods!”

“Genius observation. We’re at summer camp, Einstein,” Ass grumbles, pulling their pillow around their ears.

“No, I mean we’re outside! We’re literally in the woods!”

Ass sighs and sits up, taking off their sleeping mask and scanning the clearing they’d been dropped into.

“Oh. I guess we are,”

They hop out of bed and put their hands on their hips, looking for some kind of instruction for their next challenge. When nothing happens, they sigh and walk over to Michael, shaking her awake.

“Hey, what the hell!” she says, sitting up suddenly and bumping her head on the upper bunk.

“Get up,” Ass snaps, looking off to where McLovin’s bunk is across the clearing. “Can someone wake that noodle up? We’re obviously starting our next challenge!”

“That is correct!” Chef yells through Chris’ megaphone as a helicopter hovers over the clearing. He hops off the drop-down ladder as it approaches. “Your challenge is to find your way out of the forest without starving, freezing, or otherwise dying!”

“You cannot be serious!” Ass yells. “We just did this!”

“Not quite. That time, you didn’t have teams,” Chef chuckles. “Each of you will get a partner- first ones back to camp win immunity. Now choose, and fast!”

Julia looks at the three other players, who glare at her sharply.

Michael steps next to Ass. “Yeah, I’ll take my chances with the pretentious one,”

“Hey, you can’t do that! Natalie is my ally!” she snaps. “Tell her!”

Ass rolls their eyes. “Um, maybe you would’ve been useful if this was a computer-nerd challenge, but this is wilderness survival. I’ll take my chances with the circus freak,”

“Thank you,”

Julia glares. “You can not just double cross me like that! That’s so unfair!”

“Don’t like the taste of your own medicine, huh?” Michael says as Chef tosses them a duffel bag of supplies. “Choose a side.”

Julia scoffs as the two get the go-ahead to start off from Chef. McLovin catches the next duffel bag and its weight immediately pulls him to the ground. She groans.

“Better hope you get back before sundown!” Chef yells as the helicopter swings back around and lowers the ladder. “It gets real dark out here!”

---

McLovin and Julia step through the woods as she digs through the pack. He’s been plucking long grass as they walk and using it to craft yet another small macramé owl.

“Compass, good. Water, some granola bars…” Julia says before looking up to see the creation he’s holding up to her with a big smile. “What is that?”

“It’s macramé!”

“Oh, God,” she sighs. “If we get attacked by bears, you’re going first.”

---

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?” Ass asks, slinging the bag over their shoulder as the two walk down the river.

“Well, camp is north, right? The sun is just risen over those hills, so that’s east, so camp is that way,” Michael says, pointing ahead. “As long as we don’t get turned astray, we should be there before night.”

“Good!” Ass says merrily before suddenly shoving Michael into the river current. “See you!”

“Hey!” she yells as she’s swept down south. “That’s so not cool!”

“Deal with it!” they shout back, chuckling to themselves as they begin walking north, supplies in hand.

---

Julia looks up at the sun and sighs. “It’s almost noon, and I still have no idea where we are,”

McLovin is busy with yet another miniature owl. He’s humming to himself as Julia grumbles about not the compass being cheap and crappy, weaving in and out.

She turns to him, getting slightly more annoyed with every passing second. “Could you please do something useful for once?” she snaps. “I am carrying this entire team on my back right now!”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” McLovin says. “We’ve passed that tree three times now.”

“What?! How would you know?!”

He looks up and points- hanging from a branch is a grass-woven macrame owl. Julia blinks, then begins looking around the trail- various owls are hanging from the trees they already passed. “Oh, my God. You’re making a trail!”

He shrugs. “Lots of weaving material out here,”

“Okay, so, if we already tried this path,” Julia thinks to herself, looking up ahead to where a fork in the trail leads to another, owl-less road. “Let’s go this way!”

---

Michael pulls herself onto the muddy bank of a downstream beach. She coughs up some water and steps onto dry land, caked in mud and river weeds.

She pulls off her parka and wrings it out, frowning angrily.

---

MICHAEL: “Is there anyone on this island who isn’t a completely selfish whack-job?”

---

Michael walks through the woods, carrying her parka over her shoulder. The sun indicates that it’s a little after noon, meaning she only has a few hours left to run upriver, completely without supplies or any help.

---

Ass walks merrily through the woods, humming. They stop to enjoy the entire supply of granola bars and half of the water, not concerned about having to share, and then continue on their way.

After a few more hours of walking, they get hungry again. They check the bag and find it empty.

“Great! Just great! Thanks for the provisions, Chef!” they shout at a nearby camera.

Ass sighs, putting their hands on their hips and looking around before spotting a blueberry bush just off to the side of the river. They smile and begin collecting berries in the bag from that bush, then the next, then the one after that.

“There! That should be enough to last me the rest of the walk,” they smile triumphantly, popping a berry in their mouth. “Now back to… wait… where’d the river go?”

They look around and notice they’re completely isolated in the woods.

---

“So, what’s the deal?” Julia asks, munching on a bag of chips from the supplies. “You some kind of artist?”

McLovin looks around. “Who, me?”

“Um. Yes. Who else would I be talking to?”

They stare at each other for a moment. Julia sighs. “I mean, you’re always drawing and making stuff. That’s like, art things, right?”

“Um… maybe. I just like crafts,” he says, holding up another owl. “And baking. And gardening. Back home, I make lots of stuff for my friends, and my classmates, my teachers, my mom, my dentist…”

Julia looks at him. “How do you manage to do anything for yourself?”

He blinks. “For… myself?”

---

JULIA: “I’ve been asking myself for a while how McLovin keeps evading the vote, and I think I finally found out. He’s a doormat. He’s like clay, he’s easily impressionable and bends whichever way you want him to. Not a great player, but a great pawn,”

---

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you ever do things just for you?”

“Um… not really. You do?”

Julia laughs. “Everything I do is for myself!”

There’s a brief pause as McLovin finishes up his latest macramé piece and looks down at it. “That’s kind of sad,”

---

The sun begins the set in the distance as Michael trudges along the river, now mostly dry. She’s made good progress, but it’s becoming apparent she’s not getting any closer to camp before dark.

She sighs, sitting on a nearby rock.

---

MICHAEL: “Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where the road ends for me. I had a good run, right?”

---

Michael closes her eyes for a moment, letting the spirit of giving up compel her to relax. She eventually stretches, and then sits back, casually waiting for someone to come get her.

“I give up!” she yells into the treeline, looking for cameras. “You can come get me now, I quit!”

Nothing happens. She waits for a bit longer, and still no one comes to get her. Michael sighs and kicks a rock at her feet before picking up a long stick nearby and doodling in the mud.

She draws a heart, scribbling M + M in the center, and then stares at it for a few minutes, thinking to herself. She rises to her feet and holding up the stick, a new look of determination on her face.

She shouts back into the treeline. “Never mind!” and then takes off along the river again, mumbling to herself. “I want to win! I want to win!”

---

Ass grumbles as they attempt to make a fire for the eighth time, hands all scratched up and sore from the half-hour of rubbing against a very uncomfortable stick.

To their delight, a small spark lights up a tiny section of wood before being blown out in the breeze. They groan, standing and throwing their sticks to the side and crossing their arms.

---

ASS: “Okay, maybe I didn’t think getting rid of Michael all the way through,”

---

They scale a tree (only slipping a few times) and sit on a branch, leaning against the trunk before closing their eyes and forcing themselves to sleep.

---

McLovin and Julia sit around a hastily-made fire from a matchbox included in their supplies. McLovin is sketching a portrait of Julia in the dirt while she holds still.

“Okay, just one more… and done!” he says, stepping back. Julia comes over to his side of the fire to look.

“Ooh, it’s good!” she comments, studying the realistic sketch. “You’ve got some talent hidden in there after all.”

“Um… thank you, I think?” he says, tossing the stick he used as a tool into the fire. “Wish I had some paper, though. Then you could take the drawing with you.”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m kind of sick of looking at myself anyway,”

Julia takes her seat back on the other side of the fire and uses it to warm her hands. “How far do you think we are from camp?”

“Um… maybe a few hours, I’m not sure. But I stopped seeing my owls a while ago, so-”

A sudden violent rustling from within the dark of the woods catches their attention and they fall silent, looking at each other. The two stand and begin backing away, just for Michael to stumble out of the forest.

“What the-” Julia starts, squinting at the mud-covered camper. “Michael?”

She groans, sitting up and coughing. “Oh. I thought you were Ass,” she says, looking between the two.

“You got separated?” McLovin asks.

“Against my will, yes,” Michael mutters, holding up a sharpened spear she made. She looks at the ground, seeing the Julia portrait and raises an eyebrow. “I was going to attack and steal my supplies back, but obviously you two have your own thing going on.”

Julia rolls her eyes. “Um… yeah. Wouldn’t expect you to stick around anyway, since I’m such a backstabbing traitor,”

“You and Ass really are a match made in heaven,” Michael grumbles, pushing between McLovin and Julia and walking back into the dark of the woods.

---

The sun rises over the island. Ass snores as they sit on their branch, breathing heavily as a spider crawls from the canopy onto their nose. Their eyes slowly open and they blink before screaming, slapping their own face and falling out of the tree.

“God damnit!” they shout, standing and groaning. “Stupid forest!”

---

McLovin and Julia continue down the trail at an even pace, chatting merrily while taking turns holding the duffel bag.

----

MCLOVIN: “You know, I used to think Julia was kind of scary, but she’s actually pretty okay once she doesn’t see you as a threat or an expendable team member!”

---

JULIA: “I don't know why McLovin even needs the money. He could make millions hosting seminars on how to make friends”

---

Ass runs down the path to camp, catching sight of the end of the treeline they shout in victory as they reach the cabins, cheering while Chef rolls his eyes.

“I win! I win invincibility, suckers!”

Julia and McLovin walk out of the woods, casually strolling down to camp. They sigh as they see Ass cheer.

“Not so fast,” Chef says. “You need both members of your team to be present to win, and I don't see no green haired girl. Blondie and string bean the winners.”

“Oh, what, Michael? I’m pretty sure she got eaten by bears,” Ass rolls their eyes. “A shame, really. So I win by default!”

“In your dreams, you freak!” Michael says, bounding out of the woods with her spear. “You tried to kill me!”

“No, I tried to drown you. Whether or not you died was on you, I'm the winner!” Ass snaps. “Julia, tell them!”

Julia glares. “Um, no,”

Ass turns, a look of pure malice on their face. “If your sorry ass wants to keep your cushy ride to the finale with me, you better-”

“Oh, please!” Julia yells, dropping the bag to throw her arms out. “All you’ve done is whine and complain and carry around those big books, which, by the way, I know you only pretend to read because you can’t admit you find them boring! I have been carrying you from the second you got here because I was gullible enough to believe you were somehow a competent player! All you know how to do is read and then pretend you have any stakes in this game just because you’re mean! I voted out the only person on this island that actually cared about me because of you! And all you’ve done is treated me and everyone else like garbage even though, let’s be honest, without us you would’ve been dead in the woods by now! So you can get someone else to be your slave, because I’m done! Enjoy your boat ride home, you airheaded bimbo!”

Julia storms off, McLovin and Michael watching with wide eyes before turning back to Ass, who looks mortified.

---

“Well, you all survived,” Chef rolls his eyes. “Now one of you is going home. You two are safe,” he says, chucking the marshmallows at Julia and McLovin (who have to duck to avoid the high speeds they’re flying at).

Michael and Ass look at each other, both frowning deeply.

“Green one- no one likes you. And mean one- no one likes you even more!” Chef shouts. “But, and thank God, you maggots finally came to your senses and voted someone worthwhile off!” He throws the final marshmallow to Michael.

Julia smirks as Ass gasps, then glares, standing and kicking their log. “Fine! I hate all of you anyway! This island doesn’t deserve me!”

“Damn right,” Michael grins.

Ass groans and storms off.

“Whatever!” Chef shouts, walking off. “Congratulations to the final three! Chris will be seeing you all shortly for your next challenge!”

McLovin, Julia, and Michael look between each other.

[coolingrosa]

brobro i just found out about transfem dream from my rec and she's my new hyperfixation even though i got another one less than a week ago-- thank you, i love this headcanon and i'll probably make some fanart of her if that's ok? also, i dunno if you have an answer to this, but if dream because shattered, would shattered also consider themselves transfem? just out of curiosity since these two are my two favorite sans aus <3

I’m very glad you like my head canon! As for fanart, go nuts! I would absolutely love to see it, and I’m so glad you like her enough to want to draw her.

As for shattered, that is a very interesting question. I do love analyzing these skeletons. Most don’t know this, but I used to want to make a Undertale AU analysis blog, just because I love talking about my interpretation on things. so you’ve just open up the flood gates, my friend.

From what I know about the shattered timeline, it happens after a long time of fighting between the twins. So that means there’s two ways it can go. Dream could already consider herself transfem, and has already went through the process before becoming shattered. Or she finds herself while being shattered all on her own. The second would be a lot harder for her, especially since Ink and Blue were the main components to actually push her to explore her identity. If she doesn’t have those people in her corner, she’d take a lot more time in finding herself. In fact, she most likely wouldn’t be thinking about it due to her intense focus on her new job: which I assume is making Night’s life hell. (I actually don’t know too much about shattered so forgive me)

Big even so, I do think she’d transition anyways. Of course, she’d try to conceal it a little more, and possibly use it to fuck with the people who used to care for her. She would use it as a way to say she has officially changed as a person to further haunt Night, saying she’s no longer the twin he used to love. She’s a different person now, and she might even try to claim that she hardly remembers her time as a child, since the corruption made her something different. Basically, she’d tell him that Dream is gone. The corruption killed him and she’s all that remains. She isn’t, and will never be Dream. She has no connection to him and is only using his body as a vessel. However, this wouldn’t be true and it would be just a lie to further pain Nightmare or her old friends.

It’s poetic in a way. I think she’d use a different name too. Possibly Dawn or Aurora. I prefer Dawn a little more, though.

I love answering analysis questions so much— so if you have an Au you want me to talk about please ask! I would absolutely adore dumping my interpretations.