#Notes for people who read the tags:

[h4zardousch3micals]

Performance Of A Lifetime - 1

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Alright, so:

1) I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG STUFF HAPPENED

2) I SWEAR THIS STORY ISN'T 90% DUDES LOL THIS WAS JUST A WEIRD COINCIDENCE

3) Despite the Fallen Stars inspiration, Loodvigg is not evil. He is baby. (Spoiler alert I guess but all the Celestials will be sympathetic in this bc I do not have the heart to make any of them evil, whether I have the heart to traumatize them is a different story...)

4) Yes I'm going to be throwing a bunch of oc's in because I can >:3

That's all I think

——

A warm sunset spilled lazily from the horizon, dyeing the usually blue waters of the Living Ocean a deep, honey-like amber. On the South-east coast of Plant Island, a hive of activity began to materialise as monsters of all shapes and sizes were drawn in by gleam of flickering red and yellow lights and the sound of carnival music. The excitement was far from unwarranted: it's not every day that the circus comes to town, especially not the renowned, voyaging Audrey's Intrepid.

Backstage, however, beyond the hypnotizing spiral of ducks swirling in a little pool and the dizzying dances of eye-bleeding colours, was alive with a different kind of anticipation - thrilling, exhilarating, tension as a dozen little monsters prepared for the most nerve-wracking hour-or-so of their lives, just a few days away.

Or, that was how it was supposed to go.

"This is ridiculous. I'm not doing this." Loodvigg snarled, the feathers around his neck bristling like an agitated cat. He wobbled on unsteady legs: the diving board felt so flimsy beneath his feet and the bucket he was supposed to land in looked as though it were miles away. He wouldn't dare admit it, but something about the incredible drop made his entire body shake with fear.

"Awww, come on 'Vigg! It'll be fun!" Glaishur called out, having to raise his soft voice to be heard from all the way down there. He stood next to the comically shallow pail with a big, goofy grin plastered on his face, apparently oblivious to Loodvigg's distain for the current situation.

"If you aren't gonna do it, why'd you climb all the way up there?" Attmoz added, jabbing an accusing finger in his direction.

"Uh," Oops. Probably should've thought about that. Loodvigg desperately dodged the question with a question of his own, "Why do I have to be the one to do this, anyway? Surely this is more Hornacle's thing?"

Attmoz rolled his eye, "Fennec wants us to learn what its like to do eachother's acts so we know what they're thinking during the performance."

"Yeah! So get on with it..." A voice came from the nearby rows upon rows of almost entirely empty seats. Oh, right, their trainer was so quiet and pathetic that Loodvigg had almost forgotten he was there at all. The Sox's dark blue ears were pinned back and his vermilion eyes darted nervously around the empty circus tent. If he was trying to sound commanding; it wasn't working.

Loodvigg peered down again and felt an involuntary shudder creep up his spine.

"It's not that bad!" Glaishur explained, "Just close your eyes and pretend you're just walking down some stairs."

"If you're scared we can help get you down—" Attmoz added with an almost smug smirk."I AM NOT SCARED!" Loodvigg snarled, feathers puffing up from humiliation disguised as rage and causing both monsters to flinch. Almost immediately, he felt a pang of guilt strike his heart. He wanted to apologise, but a growing sense of shame made the words catch in his throat.

"Prove it then!"

Glaishur elbow nudged the air monster disapprovingly, "Attmoz, don't be mean!"

"Ugh, fine!" Loodvigg put his hands up surrender, "Whatever, I'll do it!"

There was probably a better way to word that - one that didn't involve taking the plunge both literally and figuratively - but it was too late for that now. Attmoz leans back slightly and folds his arms; Glaishur give him a reassuring thumbs up.

"Well, here goes nothing..." Loodvigg whimpered, taking a step forward and letting gravity do the rest of the work.

SPLASH!

For a moment, everything seemed almost peaceful. Loodvigg could hear sounds, but the rippling and bubbling of the water made everything distant and fuzzy. His stomach stung where he'd directly struck the surface of the pool, but the cool water was almost soothing against it. It was comforting, in a strange backwards sort of way.

And then, in an instant, it was over. he felt two sets of arms plunge into the oversized pail and drag him out with terrifying efficiency. He coughed and spluttered; his lungs burned from the cold water that intruded into his throat and his feathers clung awkwardly to his skull, making him feel small and weak. He was about to crawl away, to go find a nice dark corner to hide in and sulk, when an unexpectedly joyful voice caught him off guard:

"Woah! That was awesome!" Glaishur cheered. When Loodvigg blinked the water away from his eyes, he could see that the cold monster grinning from ear to ear; eyes wide and sparkling from admiration and excitement.

"...It was?" He wheezed between hacking up blobs of water.

"Yeah! You hardly moved a muscle the whole way down; you looked so badass!" Attmoz clarified.

It was probably best to just let them believe that was intentional, "Oh, yeah. It was."

"Good job, kid. I'll let Audrey know about this." Fennec approached them and said with a happy saxophone noise, well, that and an odd whistling from the cracked key on his back.

"Audrey?" He echoed, eyes lighting up at the possibility. Though neither him nor his friends had ever met the elusive ringmaster, the other performers described her as a powerful, almost otherworldly figure. To be specifically pointed out to her as special - what an honour!

"Yes, she'll be very pleased to know everything is going smoothly." He replied, his gaze was still flickering towards every little noise but now his lower eyelids were creased upwards in a slight smile.

"Wow... Lucky you!" Glaishur squealed excitedly.

Loodvigg was just about ready to slink into a cave and sleep for an entire century but, as usual, Attmoz just had to have the last laugh, "But can you do it again?"

"OH, COME ON!"

—

At the edge of the moving island the circus resided on, Scaratar studied the ripples of the water as the sun finally disappeared into the sea. A ladybird landed beside her, skittling and scuttling on its search for food, and she took the time to gently pet its smooth little wing cases before it flew away.

This serene moment was promptly interrupt by Loodvigg storming in - muttering something about how annoying a certain air monster was - and flopping down beside her. He resembled a cat that had gone outside during a thunderstorm: his expression was downtrodden and furious and his hair (normally painstakingly slicked back into place) was wild and a little frizzy.

"Woah, you alright?" She asked, unable to contain a few giggles, "You look a little... drenched?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He grumbled and covered his face with his webbed talons.

"Sheesh, okay."

Neither said a word in response and they stayed like that for quite some time: Loodvigg was too worked up to be interested in conversation and Scaratar knew to give her friend space. Eventually, Scaratar picked up one of the Circus' promotional posters and inspected it carefully. Loodvigg opened one eye, curious but not having the patience or energy to move much else.

"Why do you have that?" He eventually asked, "Where did you even get one of those? Didn't they all get sent out?"

"Uh, I got it from the pile before Fennec and Copper went to put them up around the Island. I don't know why, it just felt right."

"Oh," Loodvigg hoisted himself up by his arms and peered over at the poster, reading it out loud in an unamused tone, "New from Audrey's Intrepid, sixteen years in the making, marvel at the all new: CELESTIALS - A dramatic retelling of our world's most ancient history!"

"Well, you sure look like you need some Chapstick, don't ya?" Scaratar chuckled, pointing to a monster which resembled Loodvigg - only much older, much uglier and (as she described) much more dehydrated.

"I know, right?" Despite his exhaustion and grumpiness, Loodvigg couldn't help but crack a small smile, "And what's this? I don't exactly recall you having giant butterfly wings for ears."

"Actually, those are moth wings." She corrected.

"Close enough!" He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance.

"Seriously though, wonder why they can never get the posters to look right."

He shrugged, "Maybe it's to make us look cooler?"

"...Because this looks cool!" Scaratar chirped sarcastically, shoving the poster in his face again which caused them to laugh out loud all over again.

"You have a point. Maybe we should ask Fennec, or one of the other performers..."

"Yeah, we should." She agreed, but the idea would soon be given up on as Scaratar's gaze shifted back to the distant sea. She suddenly asked, "Do you think there's more out there?"

Loodvigg blinked in suprise, "Of course there is. You've seen the other islands when we've landed there, even if they didn't let us put on the show 'cause we weren't ready yet, you must've at least gotten a glimpse?"

"Yes, I know. I meant... Do you think there's more out there - for us?"

Loodvigg considered the idea, "Well, if there was, surely Fennec would've told us?" Practice, practice, practice was all they'd ever really known, surely it was important if their trainer put that much focus on it?

"I suppose..."

"Do you... not like what we do?" He asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer, "Cause if you don't I can ask Fennec to change—"

"No, it's not that! I just...

I just wonder sometimes..."

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[tar-thelien]

Look I´m a full believer that you should ship what you want and not harass others for their ships BUT

Lately on the Sauron/Mairon tag I´ve seen some people say he wouldn´t be interested in men!??!? Like I´m sorry to break it to you but he literally saw the most beautiful woman to ever exist and instead of thinking about his own desires he instantly thought "my boss would be so proud of me if I gave her to him."

WHAT´S NOT GAY ABOUT THAT CREATURE!?!??!?

Also on a smaller note the few posts that say Sauron could NEVER be gay are literally calling people weird for shipping him with men?? So, could we please just go back to shipping the mass murder with who we want to and stop bothering others with who they ship him with?? No?

So ship who you want and have fun, talk with those who ship the same and all that, but don´t go in and accuse others for having the wrong ship :)

EDIT: just to make sure everyone understands I DON´T IN ANY WAY SUPPORT PEOPLE WHO POLICE SHIPS OR SHAME PEOPLE FOR THEIR SHIP OR ACCUSING THEM OF NOT FOLLOWING CANON ETC ship who you want and don´t bother people who have another ship and try to "teach" them about your ship if they don´t ask for it.

[somegrumpynerd]

A bunch of doodles inspired by @wickjump saying Cross has an eternal kicked puppy look (and steadily devolving into dadmare because y'know. My Brand)

[lakesbian]

okay so basically i have comprised a collection of images to explain my opinion about a transgender reading of eunyung in this arc

[feroluce]

On Sampo's name (ALL of his names!)

I feel like everyone who's a fan knows the meaning of Sampo's full name by now- the sampo was a legendary item that could magically make endless supplies of gold, flour, and salt, all priceless items at the time! So it works perfectly for a scammer businessman like Sampo. ☆

"Koski" is the Finnish word for "water rapids" which might seem kinda random but actually makes sense for him, since Aha and the Masked Fools are also referred to with water terms:

This kind of analogy isn't specific to only Aha and the Masked Fools, but it does still tie them together. So water rapids fits perfectly! Sampo wants to stir the pot! He likes to shake things around and spice things up! He's taking that stagnant pool and turning it into water rapids! It would actually explain his ridiculous hair color, too; a dark blue wave tipped with white foam haha

EDIT: an amazing contribution from @ricochetlovebombs, who heard it from hoyolab user Rattaboy. If you interpret his first and last name together, instead of separately like I did, you would get something like "money river."

In other words, Sampo's name literally means CASH FLOW SKXJMDMDMD

What I really wanted to talk about is his drag alias name, though, Brughel Poisson, because to me that's where it gets really interesting.

So like in the English version, Sampo goes by Brughel Poisson when he's in disguise. Searching for just "Brughel" itself doesn't seem to get you much at first: a Flemish and Dutch Renaissance painter named Pieter Brueghel the Elder, who was famous for his landscapes and peasant scenery, especially Hunters in the Snow and The Blue Cloak.

He's referred to as "the Elder" because he had a son also named Pieter Brueghel (the Younger), and he began a long line of painters, all named Brueghel. Some of them did original work, and many of them created reproductions of the Elder's art to sell. The Elder was also famous as a printmaker. All of this is hilarious when you remember that Sampo is an infamous counterfeiter and has sold a relic called the Parallel Universe Printer JSKZJSMD

There is also something called Brueghel's Syndrome, named after one of Brueghel's paintings called De Gaper, which pictured a man yawning widely. It's a condition that causes the mouth to open and gape uncontrollably, twisting a person's countenance into a distorted mask of their usual face.

Tumblr doesn't have a way of censoring pics like twitter, so for the sake of the medically squeamish, I'm just showing De Gaper here. But if you look up Brueghel's Syndrome, you can find pictures of actual patients, some of whom really do make faces resembling Aha's comedy and tragedy masks!

In the Chinese and Japanese versions, his alias last name is a lot more silly- In those, "Sampo" is phonetically written as "san-bo" and "san-po." And in disguise, his last names are phonetically written as... "Bo-san" and "Po-san." The Chinese version uses different tones, but still. This smug asshole seriously just decided to write his own name backwards and called it a day NDMKXMDMD

In the English version, Poisson itself is kind of a reused Hoyo asset- it's also the name of Navia's fishing village in Genshin Impact. Which is a really silly name for a village, because it literally just means "fish" in French smzjxkdkdk but!

Again, more water imagery. And in English, if something is suspicious, we say that it's "fishy," which is perhaps the most fitting association yet for someone as shady as Sampo ☆

And for a good while I thought that was the only connection. But then. My beloved @hydrachea, who is an actual native French speaker, dropped this on me right after April Fool's Day:

Poisson is literally the word you use to pull an April Fool's prank.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok, I think I have a pretty good idea of why a lot of Akechi's dialogue is... like that.

So, even before his confidant truly started, I noticed that he has a real knack for directing the flow of a conversation. This is very fitting for someone who is both a detective and skilled at interviews - when there is a topic and a goal, Akechi is in his element.

All this to say, he's actually kind of controlling when it comes to conversational flow. He probes for information, or turns the conversation around to a particular topic, usually the Phantom Thieves. He manages to take a few of Joker's dialogue options and spin them so they sound mildly incriminating in the context he's placed them in - the only way to truly get around this is to pick answers that feign indifference, and even then, that's more than a bit telling. He's clearly very good at this kind of thing.

But then, we get conversations where either Joker does something he didn't expect, or else he doesn't have a particular goal in mind - and the conversation stutters. In the first instance, Joker does something (a particularly egregious example is putting his glasses on him and fluffing his hair in rank 3) which both leaves him wrong-footed and no longer in perfect control of the situation. He just kind of... freezes, for awhile. It's hilarious. He has no idea how to respond.

He picks up control again in the phone call afterwards, having chosen to play into it, turning this "fooling the crowds" into a kind of game or secret between them. Nice save.

But in instances where there isn't an obvious topic and the goal is somewhat nebulous, for instance, that one Leblanc scene, it becomes pretty apparent that Akechi doesn't have the right "script" to go off of. Again, it's particularly notable in that scene, because I'm fairly sure he didn't have any specific reason to be at Leblanc, other than him looking for a quiet spot now that public opinion has turned on him. And because there isn't anything specific he's digging for, he kind of just ends up throwing things at the wall to see what will stick. Probing for any kind of recognizable reaction that he can jump on and work with, and that just doesn't really happen in this scene.

He references Sae, a woman in a respectable position, to Sojiro, but instead of that netting a welcome, it earns his ire, given Sae's recent actions against him. He then tries to greet Joker, his... rival? friend? enemy? person who at least seems to somewhat enjoy spending time with him? But Joker's responses are somewhat short, and Akechi practically wilts. He tries to commiserate by oversharing. He tries to involve Futaba and reaches out for the only topic of interest he can think of around "young people". He compliments the coffee. He compliments Joker. He tries to invoke that connection between them. None of it is really sticking, nor does it serve as a jumping off point for him to steer the conversation, or even really start one.

So, he basically just ends up having a one-sided chat with himself and then leaves. Hilarious. Also a little sad, if I'm being honest. It's really giving "guy with no friends who only knows how to speak to adults" energy. If there's no specific purpose to the exchange, or he is not in control of its direction, he seems to be kind of out of his depth. He succeeds only in being a little awkward and confusing, more than anything.

[a-host-of-dancing-daffodils]

And because I recently read the Chocolate Box...Please enjoy one of the only things I feel like the show did right with this particular story...

Poirot looking super dapper in his Belgian police uniform:

The cut of this uniform is very flattering on him, I must say...especially with the way it accentuates his chest, his waist, and his ''''''''seat''''''''

And I love the design on the collar/sleeves. Very fancy/official

also. please look at his very silly official hat

Gotta say. Hugh Fraser may have been the eye candy of this show, but. David Suchet sure knows how to be pretty, too

[h4zardousch3micals]

Performance of a lifetime - 2

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Heyyy look who wrote a thing again! I've only got two things to say this time:

1) Aaaaaa thank you Caldin and Mew for your incredibly kind words <3 <3 <3

2) Yes I will be throwing in a bunch of oc's I can justify to you why it's crucial for the narrative but I won't because teehee spoilers

——

"THIS IS TOO HARD! I CAN'T DO IT!" Plixie howled. In a fit of juvenile rage, they flung the juggling balls across the room, causing a few to rebound and come flying back their direction. They ducked - wings fluttering desperately - to avoid the onslaught but a few still hit them with a loud 'BONK!'

"Please, just try again." Leyera muttered, not even looking up from her current task: untangling an extremely matted string of fairy lights.

"NO! I DON'T WANNA!" The plasma monster thrashed furiously in midair, before landing specifically to stomp their foot on the ground like an angry bunny. A few frustrated tears leaked from their wide eyes.

The little temper tantrum was enough to get the gloptic's full attention, "I swear, Plixie, you are driving me up the wall..."

"Look, how about I demonstrate it for you again? Here..." They dropped the mound of knotted lights and psychically levitated the juggling balls into their grasp. They were able to throw and catch at least five of them simultaneously without even looking, "See how I'm doing this scooping motion when I toss it? Try doing that."

This only seemed to upset Plixie even more, "IT'S NOT FAIR, LEYERA! YOUR ARMS ARE LONGER!"

"You can fly!" Leyera protested, pressing one tentacle to her closed eye in her equivalent of a facepalm. She exhaustedly muttered to herself, "...I spent all last night working myself half to death because our only other fortune-teller Tye-dye left the show, and this is the thanks I get?"

"What's a fortune-teller?" Plixie tilted their head to one side and their eyes glittered with curiosity, apparently that was the only part of her angry little rant they actually heard.

"I've explained it to you before..?" They grumbled.

"Yeah, but I wanna hear it again."

"I will never understand little kids..." She shook her head to clear it and begrudgingly elaborated, "A fortune-teller is a monster who can tell other monsters what will happen to them in the future and tell that what they should do about it."

"Woah!" Plixie's wings flapped excitedly, "How do you do that?!"

The magical monster seemed a bit less bothered by the injustices of the world now that they were discussing something familiar to them, "Well, there's lots of different ways. There's looking into crystal balls, there's tracking the movement of the stars, I specialise in palm reading, kind of ironic since I don't have any but, heh..."

"Cool! Cool!" They squeaked, hopping about as though this was the most fascinating information they had ever heard. Then, an idea crossed their mind and their face lit up, "Can you tell me MY future?"

"Uh, sorry kid, but I'm really not supposed to, Fennec's orders." She muttered. Fennec had been firm (well, as firm as Fennec can be) that she was under strict orders to only use her psychic powers for those who approached her booth during opening hours, lest she drain her magical energy stores.

"PLEASE!" Plixie took flight again and hovered as close to the Gloptic's eye as possible, hoping that their adorable face would persuade them.

"Come on, not the puppy-dog eyes..." Leyera protested. They had always had a hard time not giving in to the puppy-dog eyes...

"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

"Okay, okay: I'll do it!" She threw her tentacles up in the air in defeat, "...If you promise to practice some more afterwards."

"Deal!" They nodded profusely.

"Deal, give me your hand," Plixie's palm was so small, it was hard for Leyera to find any of the tell-tale lines they used to predict fortunes, "Oh, wow, it's so tiny!"

"Hehehe!" The plasma monster giggled, having already forgotten about their earlier upset.

"Hmm, well, this line here tells me that you express your emotions freely." She said, pointing to a long line across their entire palm.

"What does that mean?" They tilted their head to one side.

"It means that you like to say how you feel and don't try to hide it," She replied.

"Oh! Oh oh oh! Yeah! That sounds like me!"

"You don't say?" They rolled their eye, then turned their attention to a curving, sloped line in the middle of their hand, "And this one, this one tells me that you're very creative."

"And this one..." Leyera went froze as though she were a robot that had ran out of battery. For a few moments, they stared blankly ahead as though gazing into a distant future - a future not at all pleasant.

"What? What does it mean?!"

"It... It doesn't mean anything important," They eventually admitted, looking away.

Plixie folded their arms again and stomped a little more, "Aww, that's boring! You should make it something cooler!"

"What? That's not how it works—"

"Please! I wanna be a big, strong monster that can destroy entire islands!"

"That isn't..." She grumbled, "Ugh, fine. This line says that you'll one day be a big, strong monster that can destroy entire islands. Now can we please go back to juggling like you promised?"

"Nooo... Ugh, fine..."

—

It was late, long past closing time. A pale moon hung gloomily amongst the glittering stars like a giant spotlight. Hardly a monster seemed to stir, until...

"You're just being hysterical!" The voice was distant and muffled - almost impossible to decipher - and yet the pure, bitter disgust in their tone was enough to make the voice seem as loud as thunder.

"Huh..?" Syncopite drearily sat up, blinking rapidly to quell their sleepiness. They had already been struggling to properly get some rest, and the occasional faint argument sound was doing them no favours - but now their curiosity was piqued.

Driven by intrigue, they got up and waddled over to their friend's room and knocked once... twice... No response.

"Pppsst, Hornacle, can you hear that?" They whispered, pushing the door open with their foot.

Hornacle was silent for a few moments, before slowly murmuring, "Ugh... No, Soxy, I don't want to eat the vegetables..."

Oh. She's sleep-talking. Looks like they're gonna have to figure this one out alone...

They slowly followed the source of the noise; every tiny little creak or thud made them flinch. Eventually as the noises got closer, it became apparent that there were two monsters speaking and they were arguing intensely. Thinking quickly, they dashed behind a nearby storage create so they wouldn't be spotted.

"I'm telling you, I know what I saw!" The first voice insisted: weary yet stern, "That line, it's not good! It can only mean..."

"Leyera, I know your fortune-telling is very important to you, but you can't let it dictate what we do around here..." The other replied. Syncopite knew that voice well, it was Fennec.

They slowly peeked out from behind the box, eventually spotting the two older monsters standing under the light of a single lamp. The air was thick with tension: Leyera seemed both furious and anxious while Fennec was somehow even more frightened than he usually was.

"Very important? Very important?! It's more than 'very important', Fennec, it's my entire life!"

Fennec flinched, pressing his body low to the ground. His ears were pinned back and his tail was between his legs. He quietly replied, "I know, but Audrey says..."

"No! Listen to me!" She snarled, "I've been doing this for years! Over a decade, even. I know my way around a palm reading, and the future is not bright for that kid!"

Both went quiet again, glaring at eachother bitterly as though they could break into a fight at any moment. Fennec trembled wildly, his fur standing on end like a frightened cat; Leyera stared at him with a strange, almost pleading look in her eye.

Eventually, he worked up the courage to say, "Leyera, I'm going to be as gentle as possible when I say this but you're acting crazy. Maybe you just read it wrong, or maybe it isn't accurate because it's not real—"

"OH REALLY?! I'M THE ONE ACTING CRAZY WHEN YOU THINK THOSE KIDS ARE G—"

"Stop fighting! Please!" Syncopite bolted out of their hiding space and hurled themselves between the monsters in a desperate attempt to shield one or both should things get worse.

"Syncopite?!" "Kid?!" They both yelled at the same time.

"I..." Unable to quickly think of an explanation, Syncopite looked down at their stubby feet, "I don't like it when monsters fight."

Fennec was the first to react, approaching the crystal monster and patting them with a colourful paw. It felt a little condescending, but it was better than nothing.

"Oh, we weren't fighting, sweetheart." He soothed, eager to quell the tension in the air, "We were just having a... friendly discussion."

"A friendly discussion about how you won't heed my warnings..." Leyera muttered ominously.

"Yes, that... Look, it doesn't concern you, kid. You should go back to sleep."

"But—" They couldn't just leave it at that! Clearly both monsters were very passionate about the issue - it needed to be resolved!

Fennec whipped his head around to stare at the Glopitc, shivering slightly, "See, Leyera? You're frightening the poor things!"

"What? I didn't mean to, I—" They sighed defeatedly, slumping to the point where it looked as though they might melt into an exhausted puddle at any moment, "...Fine. Syncopite? Fennec? I'm sorry. I was wrong. I won't bring it up again."

"But you were just-" Syncopite protested, baffled.

"I know, but I was wrong. Please, it's too late for this..."

"But—"

"No buts!" With a flick of her two-toned feeler, Leyera effortlessly lifted the crystal monster into the air with their psychic powers.

"Wh— HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" Syncopite squealed as the ground seemed to disappear underneath them. Their stubby legs flailed uselessly in midair and the magnetic stones that usually floated peacefully around them spun as though they were caught in a tornado. They hated every second of it: they couldn't get away, they couldn't run, they couldn't hide!

"Leyera! Stop it!" Fennec cried, trying to sound firm but stuttering and stammering the whole way through, "What's wrong with you?"

Leyera hesitated, but she didn't have the energy to argue back anymore and just let them go, careful to levitate the crystal monster gently to the ground instead of dropping them, "Yes. Sorry, Fennec. I'm an awful monster."

He didn't rebute their claim.

"Come on, Syncopite," Fennec instructed. He padded quietly towards the exit and beckoned the little monster, "It's late."

Syncopite's need to obey their trainer overrid their courage, but their little mind still swam with questions as they hobbled after him, "But, wait! What about—?"

"Leyera realised the error of their ways and apologized. There is nothing more to discuss." He replied, crimson eyes dull and weary with tiredness.

Syncopite wanted to object, but they had a feeling that any complaint they had would be quickly dismissed. Maybe they were overthinking this; maybe they were wrong; maybe it would just be for the best to not think about it any longer...

They didn't dare utter a word as the ethereal monster ushered them back to their room, leaving an uncomfortable silence as Fennec's paws hardly made a sound on the cold floor.

"Remember, we only want what's best for you." He muttered as he shuffled away, leaving Syncopite to try and get back to sleep despite their racing thoughts. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day... Hopefully...

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The world if people stopped applying their understanding of "conservatism" and "religion/christianity" through a very modern, deeply American view onto Death Note (a manga from the Early-mid 2000s which is very much set in the cultural and societal context of early-mid 2000s Japan and all that entails):

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[coolnonsenseworld]

A little promo with my little obsession on the side...........

Reminder all items are shipped from Poland - for details on shipping times check out FAQ or send me a private message!

 mmezzy.bigcartel.com

[lunar-wandering]

im losing my mind i saw someone say something about Shadow Milk and Silent Salt plausibly having had a similar relationship to whatever Pure Vanilla and White Lily had going on, and it just. it made something just Click for me cause could you imagine???

could you imagine if Silent Salt corrupted before him???

cause like!!! the Fount of Knowledge. nobody listens to you truly, they just want what you know and then they're gone. no-one takes the time to get to know you except for one person. one person has conversations with you, listens to you deeply, seemingly understands you, calls you friend.

and then one day that person just stops talking to you. they don't respond to you, it's like you're not even there.

was it your fault? you don't know. you deceive yourself into being fine about it, but you're not.

yeah, i'd go batshit the next time someone said they understood me + wanted to be my friend too, oh my god,

PLUS Silent Salt is a KNIGHT, which is the ONLY design of all the beasts to also be medieval themed like Shadow Milk's whole jester thing. oh my GOD.

[gaymurdersalad]

[ Hey guys.

Let’s clear one thing up within the first sentence here: Blog is not cancelled! Chribs is just at school doing school things!

Y’all know how it was last year. Unmediated ADD and school do not mix as I’m sure several of you are well aware. I am currently on fall break which is why I am able to post this at all! Soon though, I’m gonna have to get back on the grind and hit several more scholarship applications and several more lessons so I don’t completely explode during my college music audition. Fun stuff!

Thank you all for bearing with me. It still shocks me to see notifications when I’ve been inactive for so long, but leave it up to y’all to make me feel like the specialist orange motherfucker on the market.

More to come! I promise! Good luck on your respective school years, jobs, lives, whatever has you! See you when Jack Kennedy inevitably grabs me in a chokehold and forces me to draw him once more! ]

~ Mod Chribs, sipping a Redbull

[uliana-redfeather]

a drawing based on rada's headcanon about dominic's religious parents

i would like to add that it was his mother who was involved in his religious and spiritual education and was a fierce Jacoban. she was also a piano teacher, and it was her who taught him how to play it but often these lessons ended up with dominic crying, which he tried his best to hide dominic's parents were fixated on their son's education and learning new skills, sometimes dominic felt like he was being forced to study non-stop for several days just to "improve" the skill dominic's parents were also ones of the few remaining Jacobans, as the simnation has been getting rid of religion for a long time. that made them fear and despise the whole city, so they only allowed dominic to contact a certain circle of trustworthy people Since childhood, Dominic has been deprived of freedom and the opportunity to make choices, even before the arrival of a watcher in his life

rada's post with her ts4 dominics:::

[dxxtruction]

I still think the photos were either an absent minded accident to where no one can be really sure who made it (several people have had access to the archives and have sorted through it over presumable many years) or deliberately planted by Rashid for Daniel’s benefits to go through the files uninterrupted. Because I think it’s a better display of how Armand is operating here simply out of a complete disinterest to be supportive, accountable to anything, or understanding of what the aim of all this is, and his care for Louis only goes about as far as himself, especially where the threat of exposure or abandonment is concerned. In short he has a disdain for this entire interview, let alone Louis history and inner struggles with it, and for selfish reason, so the photos, regardless of how they got in there, expose him of this. It clues us in about how his love is conditional on meeting his expectations of it not ending or being threatening in some way, especially where his sense of security is concerned, but he’s extremely possessive of who he loves so manipulates as much as he can to prevent this, to a point, and in such ways, it is just emotionally abusive. Though we also do see a result of when he’s offered something else that his love can shift easily to someone else if they are simply offering him all this sense of security, so his possessiveness is conditioned on the fact he has no other better options of getting his strong desires for this kind of love met.

Anyway, if it’s an accident like that, and let’s say it’s one Armand happened to have made, it falls right in line with this even more, though I think the point is we actually can’t know if this is the case of it as even he doesn’t know who did it. Though if there were any care he’d probably not point fingers at Louis who is the one who’d be least likely to have made such a mistake, but he doesn’t care and is just mad about being blamed by Louis, so does carelessly throw it out there.

And if they served a purpose of allowing Daniel to access the files for an extended period, which he couldn’t do much earlier when Raglan initially sent them over without raising suspicions, one can make the assumption that Rashid, who we find out is working for the Talamasca, did it for Daniel’s benefit so he could do so undercover.

Just my two thoughts.