#Objective Assurance

[jeeaark]

if greygold did sided with the emperor during the confrontation between them and orpheus and failed to convince lae'zel to stand down, forced to fight her, how would greygold feel? would they come to resent the emperor after everything?

What a delightfully pain-inducing question~ Greygold likes to think they're less taking sides and more like- Refereeing. Trying to de-escalate the murder vibes in the room. And even though the dramatic music would be ramped up to an 11, Greygold would be just as delusionally optimistic fighting Lae'zel as they were fighting The Emperor. At least this time, they have more AC than a tarrasque so-

Greyg can hold their ground longer this time.

This half-orc has got enough wisdom to understand this is a tough decision for Lae'zel. It's neither of their faults for sticking to their values, friendship and duty and what not, and Greygold only hopes Lae'zel won't hold it against them if they both survive this.

Besides never fighting babe because they love her, wearing the share-pain lover's rings would also have Lae'zel insta-win if Greygold actually fought back.

Anyway the thing that probably would've actually broken Greygold is if they were able to escape the dragons' mass destruction of Baldur's Gate via a particularly last-minute planeshifting squid, but not their friends. But resent the squid? Nah. I think they'd only resent themselves for not being strong enough to keep all their friends alive. BUT ANYWAY THIS REALITY IS WHAT GREYGOLD THINKS EMPS ASSUMED WOULD'VE HAPPENED. Greygold's own counterargument to that theory:

M.A.D Lad

[feroluce]

When Al Haitham dreams, it's in shades of sandy blonde and red, metallic gold and feather-blue. His nightmares are colored much the same.

Kaveh leisurely strolls ahead of him, shoes leaving deep treads in the soft desert sand. He keeps a careful distance, arms length, and in return Al Haitham keeps an eye on him, the other man's back dead center in his sights.

He curses the sand in his boots and the long line of footprints he steps into, already the exact shape of the soles of his shoes.

They aren't lost. Al Haitham knows where they are. They've been here before. They are still here.

Kaveh doesn't watch their feet. His head is constantly tipped back with his eyes on the stars and their constellations (of which Al Haitham only knows two, Vultur Volans and Paradisaea). He'll walk right into a cactus like that. Al Haitham yells ahead for him to watch where he's going.

Kaveh reaches up to touch the side of his head in a strange motion, but otherwise there's no acknowledgement. They press on into the dark of night.

Something squelches beneath Al Haitham's boot.

It stops him short, pulls his attention like a magnet and as much as he wants to, he can't ignore it. He doesn't want to lose any more ground. But something won't let him move on. Al Haitham watches as red seeps into the golden sand, spills beyond the border of his bootprint until he slides his foot aside.

It's an ear.

It's a human ear, and there's a heavy earring attached, metallic gold, gems red and green, a familiar shape, a familiar shade-

Al Haitham opens his mouth to yell. Chokes. Swallows the lump in his throat as he quickly restarts his pace. Tries again.

"Hey!"

Another squelch under a hurried footstep. He doesn't stop to look. Al Haitham is pretty sure he knows what it is.

"Kaveh, hey!"

The path becomes littered, little slices and small pieces, fingertips and knuckles, Kaveh's arms once held casually behind his back now strewn along the sands. Every time Al Haitham extends his hand to him, reality warps and bends like the twisted image in a broken mirror, lines mismatched and edges jagged. Kaveh flits just beyond his grasp, fleeting fae, no longer able to hear him or to reach out to him. Al Haitham can only grit his teeth and follow.

His right foot marches forward. His left follows. His right again. His left suddenly doesn't follow, and Al Haitham is thrown off balance and pitches forward, swinging his arms outward to land on his palms and keep his face off the ground, because he's been in the desert enough times to know what a foot suddenly being stuck can mean.

Quicksand.

Al Haitham curses and swears in just about every language he knows as he tries to spread his weight as evenly as possible, stay afloat at the top of it because if he sinks, he knows he'll be done for, and shit, Kaveh.

His neck cranes uncomfortably in his search, Kaveh had only been a few feet in front of him, he can't be sunk much further, and he's in the desert much more often than Al Haitham anyway, he'll be familiar with what to do-

Kaveh stands in front of him, empty sleeves fluttering loose. Still just out of his grasp, still watching the stars. The quicksand is already up to his calves.

"Say, Al Haitham..." It's the first he's spoken this whole time. His voice resonates somewhere deeply nostalgic in Al Haitham's chest, produces a ripple that momentarily stuns his heart.

Kaveh is sinking.

Al Haitham stretches out on his belly as far as he's able, it's quickly up to his knees, Kaveh isn't even trying to redistribute his weight or pull himself out, it's at his thighs, Al Haitham sucks in a breath and yells for him, his hips, yells louder, his waist, Al Haitham's trembling fingertips can almost reach, his chest, Kaveh drops level with him, quicksand about his neck like a noose.

Kaveh's head tips back, back, impossibly far back, until it hangs, angle awkward, and he's looking right past Al Haitham with his tired smile and gouged, blinded sockets full of starlight.

"Do you believe in karma?"

The quicksand swallows him entirely and Al Haitham dives, shoves his arms deep and pushes off with the one foot he'd had left on safe ground, because he can't, he can't, it's not the same without Kaveh, not anymore, he needs him, no one else keeps him sharp, no one else challenges him like Kaveh, if he can just grab him, if he can just pull him back up-

Al Haitham thrashes, against the sands, against gravity, against the hardwood of his bedroom floor. Clumsily scrubs the back of his hand across his face to rub the grit of quicksand and sleep out of his eyes.

Sometimes he thinks he preferred it when the Akasha was still harvesting his dreams.

He pops his head out from under his weighted blanket and lays where he'd fallen out of bed for a moment, blinking blearily against the lamplight shining from his desk in the corner. Deep breaths. His consciousness shifts along the blurred line of nightmare and reality, crosses over the slow transition into wakeful awareness.

He's home, Kaveh is home. It's dark out. The house is dead silent.

He's just going to go check, he tells himself as he peels himself out of his sweat-soaked shirt and roots around for a replacement. He's already losing memories of his nightmare, the details spilling away from him like wet ink, but he knows he needs to see Kaveh. It'll feel better to do something, anything, than try to go straight back to sleep.

He's quiet when he slips out of his bedroom door, because they both keep late hours but their bedrooms are right next to each other, and Al Haitham will never hear the end of it if he wakes his roommate up.

Lights off, door shut. Nothing conclusive. He moves out to the main room.

Kaveh sits on one of those ridiculous sofas he'd ordered three of for some reason, back to him as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. A mostly-empty wine bottle stands tall on the table, next to the cobbled-together remains of an architectural model that's been picked and fussed over for four days straight now.

"Kaveh? What are you doing?"

This earns him an exaggerated startle, but Kaveh doesn't turn to look at him, preoccupied with whatever new sketch or blueprint he probably has in his hands. "Ohhh, nothing," he slurs cheerfully. "Just working. Just thinking."

Kaveh has always been the world's chattiest drinker. Al Haitham waits for the rest of it.

"Say, I think...I think I asked you this years ago, back then, but you never answered me." Al Haitham feels all the blood drain from his face in ominous familiarity, drip cold down the length of his spine. Kaveh sinks into the couch until he can tip his head over the back of it, looking up at him with a tired smile and exhausted eyes.

"Do you believe in karma?"

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Dog coded bc I miss my friends every second they’re not in the room with me

[bloomfish]

hahaha i just looked up taylorswifs age to see if it was at all justified that someone on here called her 'almost middle aged' and she's 34 😭😭😭 u guys have got to stop, even actual middle-aged women often are cringe and write bad poetry, as they should. try going to a poetry open mic or something.

this isn't a defence of taylor as a songwriter because who cares and idk enough to tell u. but i guess i find the idea that she should be ashamed of herself because 'women who are younger than her are writing/have written way better stuff' absurd. like yeah? such is the way of the world. age doesn't really matter that much. girls who are younger than me are writing poetry that's better than mine and i'm undoubtedly writing stuff that's better than some women who are older than me. I'm all for an honest criticism of, well, anything, particularly pop music but that isn't an honest criticism lol or even remotely relevant.

anyway im listening to michelle branch and avril lavigne rn so I can't really talk about cheesy pop music lol. it has its place in society is my feeling i guess and ppl r gonna enjoy it, it's made to be enjoyed is the whole thing about pop music and the fact that ppl like it is not worth getting up in arms about. chill. relax. do some ketamine

[tswwwit]

So I know you guys like seeing snippets of the stuff I have in progress, so... Here's one that I hope you'll enjoy!

It's not very long but it's full of the spirit of the season!

Dipper smiles, and touches Bill’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bill says, his grin suddenly gentle. His long eyelashes fluttering, eye glowing gold. “I’ve learned… so much from being with you.”

“Have you?” Dipper narrows his eyes. It’s suspicious, but he finds himself blushing, and shy. This is… unexpected. Uncertain, and strange!

“Why have I been doing crime all this time? Why evil?” With stunning force, Bill drags Dipper in, shoving his head against his chest, where his heart beats strong and fast, thrumming like a Bugatti Chiron Super Sport engine. “After what we’ve been through, no. I can’t do it. Not ever again.”

“But… why?”

“Because,” Bill’s perky lips pout out. His arms tremble, his tight grip shakes,; Dipper clasps onto him in turn, shaken in more than one way. “You’ve taught me the real power. The power of love.”

“Bill.��� Dipper gasps. He clutches his chest, where his own heart is beating fast, but like a four cylinder engine instead. But… this can’t happen. Bill’s always been… He turns away, demurely. “You can’t give that up just for me…”

“I have to.” Bill leans back, hand pressed against his forehead, while his pretty eye flutters again like the wings of a particularly odious butterfly. “I can’t live the same life anymore.”

“Oh, Bill,” Dipper gasps. “Bill.” clutching desperately at him. How could this be? How could two beings, so far apart like two distant stars, or or two even more distant ones, end up so far away from each other after all? He knows he’s sweaty per usual, but somehow it’s extra more so, as he admits, “The truth is… Though all this time with you, and demons, it’s… I’ve learned I like evil.”

“That's far too much for you,” Bill gasps, eye wide. His hand rises to his suddenly blushed cheek, a pink rose on his porcelain skin. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Dipper rises up then, to his full height. No more slouching. No more cowardice, or anxiety. He has true power now, one he can unleash - 

And Bill flinches away, raising a hand against the sight of Dipper ripping his shirt open, exposing the leather underneath. The powerful, commanding straps of a true dom. 

“I’ve always dreamed of this.” Dipper hauls Bill up, only to feel his demon faint in his arms, draped like a limp spaghetti noodle, but thicker - “To have a triangle of my own. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”

And the blush on Bill’s supple lips and nipples both attested that he, too, agreed.

Together, they both live together in harmony, with Dipper ruling all mayhem, and Bill lived like Christ - thoroughly nailed.

[utilitycaster]

The thing about the temples' handling of Ruidus is that it's honestly probably the best they could do. I think if they said "hey folks, this is an existential threat to us" people like Ludinus would have made their attempts way more quickly, and it's heavily implied that the efforts to seal Predathos were also to send Ruidus off into space but that failed so they're already working with what they've got. The fact that this has worked for at least a millennium (probably longer, given that the length of the Age of Arcanum is unclear, though back then the gods could and did just strike down anyone trying to awaken Predathos) and it's just one specific asshole, 800+ years post-Divergence, is a testament to it being a pretty good strategy. Same goes for Vasselheim; like, it was handled clumsily, but from the perspective of someone protecting this information, it is very difficult to tell the Grim Verity (researchers merely trying to understand Ruidus) from the Ruby Vanguard (cultists trying to unleash a god-eating horror). I don't think there's a foolproof, let alone wizard-hubris-proof solution.

[sleevebuscemii]

yall gassed kriten stewart so hard and for so long that she thinks doing a photoshoot hairless as a baby and wearing 80s gym clothes is doing “the gayest fucking thing you've ever seen in your life”

[chilled-ice-cubes]

local bastard emo pretends he doesn’t have feelings and gets jerked around by a murderous clown: the character arc

[roguemonsterfucker]

don't mind me i'm just watching some monsterfucker movies for 'research' purposes

[sylvies-kablooie]

Do you think Sylki will be endgame? I lost a lot of hope after that bar scene

i’m honestly not sure. the tension that has been simmering throughout the entire season between them needs to be resolved for the writing to come together into place, imo. without that confrontation it feels like a part of the show is missing, you know? it’s been just about the boil over for 5 episodes now but hasn’t had a chance to yet. personally i alter between IT’S SO OVER and WE ARE SO BACK with them like 10 times a day.

i will say that the attitudes on tumblr tend to be kind of negative and leaning towards a no, it’s not going to happen attitude, but i popped into my ancient twitter account to see what the vibe was over there and the sylki stans are CONFIDENT. they are pointing out the tiniest details and changes in expression between those two, they are digging up interviews, they are tweeting eric martin and getting responses, they are DEDICATED. they dug up a parallel to lamentis on the cover of the sons of yoren, you know the book AD Doug wrote that was shown for 5 whole seconds on screen? somehow they noticed that. i admire their optimism and their ability to pick up on details.

please twitter sylki stans migrate over here because u look like u all are having SO MUCH FUN but i hate twitter with a burning passion these days!!!!!!! it’s fundamentally unusable!!!!

[nana2009]

currently thinking about how since kanika likes dolls(specifically the vintage creepier ones) uncle-grandpa dirk one day gifts her THE ACTUAL HAUNTED ANNABELLE after she mentioned something about how pretty she looked while watching a documentary together or something

and of course dave is distraught because dUDE YOU JUST GAVE MY 4 YEAR OLD A POSSESSED DEVIL DOLL WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING but he cannot for the love of god pry it away from kani's grasp

[dramadeer]

I can't stop thinking about how the eclipse, msp and the jungle all share the same universe

any of those high school children or fully adult furries could enter a bar at any moment and meet

I love it

[kkoct-ik]

i really appreciate that post you made on did. i've suspected i've had it for a very long time but the culture thats grown around it on the internet has made me afraid to talk about it or look for help.

i sympathise a lot anon. i was diagnosed a few years ago but absolutely hate talking about it because im so at odds with how the internet portrays it. i hope you can find answers and treatment for your issues soon

[shirine0]

no worries guys i m also in charge of the hfjone anime

[spotaus]

Pt 22! (An actually sweet one!)

[reikunrei]

isn’t it so weird. the way our brains are wired. like i can sit here being like “yes i love and care for all of these people even the ones i barely know even the ones who are basically strangers” and yet i’m still surprised when i hear the same thing said back to me