#art for art's sake is all well and good. doesn't ever seem to make me feel better though

[gingerbreadmonsters]

oh this is going to be......... a problem actually

[jumpywhumpywriter]

When Morally-Gray Meets Morally-Good

Warnings: violence, several hero whumpers, villain whumpee, torture, blood, betrayal

Sidekick attacked with vicious intent, landing crushing blows on Villain's cowering, bloodied form while Lead Hero watched on approvingly, encouraging it. Second Hero stood close by as well, though she wasn't enjoying witnessing the beating as much as Lead Hero seemed to.

It wasn't fair; Villain's hands were left uncuffed but he was on the ground as Sidekick attacked mercilessly on his defenseless figure while he screamed and wailed in pain, begged for mercy. There was no point to it; it was violence for the sake of violence, in Second Hero's opinion. Revolting.

Lead Hero had claimed it would give Sidekick some battle experience, help him to be a future hero... but the brutal beating Second Hero was witnessing was no training session.

Second Hero kept waiting expectantly for Lead Hero to call Sidekick off the victimized Villain, put an end to the cruel game, but he never said anything, just watching without intervening as Sidekick beat the life out of Villain with blow after blow. Blood painted the tiled floor in smears and spatters, like some horrible form of art.

Villain's agonized shrieks rattled in Second Hero's head, and she shifted anxiously on her feet, knowing the awful sounds would haunt her dreams for weeks. She was shy and timid, and it took a good amount of effort for her to muster the courage to speak.

Second Hero cleared her throat gruffly to snatch her leader's attention.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" She said pointedly, gesturing at Sidekick.

Lead Hero laughed impassively, giving her a surprised look. "Why? Sidekick is getting the opportunity to hone his skills on a real target. It's good practice."

"Sidekick is going to kill them if he keeps it up," Second Hero said in a clipped tone. She was usually the quietest team member, a person of very few words, the one who always stayed out of arguments. Hardly ever even used their voice. But her leader's actions were troubling her deeply.

Lead Hero shrugged, pulling something out of his pocket that she realized was a large pocket knife. He tossed it carelessly to Sidekick.

"Now's a good time to test out your weapon training," Lead Hero called out to him. "Remember what I showed you about the proper ways to hold a blade. Make me proud."

Sidekick grinned viciously, eager to please before turning back to Villain, who was crumpled in a bloody, groaning heap on the ground.

Villain's swollen, bloodshot eyes instantly flicked to the blade as Sidekick advanced on him again, and they went huge with pure terror. He tried and failed to push himself up with his restrained arms, trying desperately to scoot away, or get to his feet and flee. He was slipping on his own blood that pooled on the tiled floor beneath him, and couldn't coordinate his mangled legs, trembling and shaking all over.

Sidekick slunk toward him with predatory grace, a bloodthirsty grin on his face at how Villain recoiled and shrunk away from him, cowering pressed up against far wall with nowhere to go, cornered

"That's enough," Second Hero said suddenly, stepping forward. "We are supposed to be heroes -- not murderers."

Lead Hero rolled his eyes. "What's the big deal? They're a villain anyway. No one cares what happens to them."

"That doesn't give us a right to kick a man when he's down."

"They would." Lead Hero sneered, glaring hatefully at Villain's broken form.

Second Hero's blood went cold at that, her gut twisting with disgust and disbelief. How could the man she looked up to as leader be so heartless? This was a side of him she'd rarely seen.

"I said that's enough," Second Hero raised her voice, scared but for once standing her ground as Lead Hero finally swiveled to give her his full attention, one eyebrow raised in annoyance. Villain's screams pierced the background as Sidekick launched into another vicious attack with the knife while Lead Hero and Second Hero stared intensely at each other for several beats, the charged tension between them snapping taut like a rubber band...

"If you don't stop this, I will," Second Hero growled, her tone filled with grim resolve.

"Don't you dare even think about--" Lead Hero never got to finish his threat.

Second Hero's eyes went dark as she spun back toward Sidekick, who was standing over Villain with the blade to his throat, about to deal the final blow.

"...This 'training session' is over." Second Hero's hand twitched, and a shadow wolf came streaking out of a corner, running up and sinking its teeth straight into Sidekick's forearm with a snarl.

Sidekick screamed in pain and jerked back, yanking his arm out of the wolf's jaws in a mess of ripped flesh.

The injury was sizzling and smoking, the shadows burning hot as they touched him.

"WHAT IN THE--" Sidekick's furious roar was cut short by another wail as a second wolf appeared, streaming darkness and shadows from its fur, that latched onto his ankle, dragging him away from Villain.

"Second Hero, stop!" Lead Hero boomed angrily.

Second Hero flinched, but didn't let up until her wolves had dragged Sidekick to the door, dropping him ungracefully before coming to flank Second Hero as she firmly planted herself between Villain and the two people she once considered her closest friends. It was a terrifying sight, of Second Hero wreathed in dark tendrils of black smoke she could bend to her will with two deadly predators at her sides.

"Enough pain, enough torture," Second Hero croaked, her voice cracking as she glanced behind her at Villain's shivering form curled up on the floor in a puddle of blood. "You're taking it too far..."

"I know what I'm doing," Lead Hero snapped harshly, fuming at her intervention. "How DARE you attack Sidekick! You're on the same team!"

Second Hero shook her head. "No. We're not. Not after what I just witnessed '

"I never took you as being queasy," Lead Hero scoffed in disbelief. His eyes started to glow with power -- fire powers, Second Hero knew -- but she wouldn't give him a chance to use them on her. She wouldn’t let him overpower her.

She flung her hands out in front of her with a shout, and the two wolves streaked forward in perfect unison, lunging at Lead Hero and dragging him to the ground.

Lead Hero struggled fiercely, slashing at the wolves with a blade he whipped out, but the blade passed right through them, because how can you fight something as intangible as darkness itself?

One wolf snapped its teeth down on his wrist, and Lead Hero screamed as his flesh burned at all the points of contact, making him drop the weapon. The other wolf placed its massive front paws on Lead Hero's chest, baring its teeth with ears pinned back as it held him down.

Lead Hero's wide eyes flicked over to Second Hero, who averted her gaze guiltily. It looked like her leader was finally realizing just how serious she was.

Second Hero was used to being looked down upon for her constant silence, her hesitancy to argue against friends or allies. But that also led people to frequently underestimate her. Because while Lead Hero was indeed leader of the team, with one of the strongest superpowers of them all... Second Hero was stronger, when she wanted to be. Lead Hero often forgot that about her, how truly dangerous she could be in the rare moments her anger spiked from submission into aggression.

"You'll pay for this," Lead Hero barked hatefully. He hated that she'd gotten the upper hand so easily, taken him down with barely any effort. It was outright humiliating.

The wolf standing on his chest snarled loudly, and Lead Hero's mouth instantly clicked shut, as he stared up into the amber eyes shrouded by shadows.

Second Hero shook her head sadly. "Always so reliant on force and threats to get your way," she said flatly. "If you learned a little compassion, you'd be an even greater hero."

"That's what makes you weak," Lead Hero spat, finding his voice again despite the menacing beast pinning him down. "You're too soft-hearted to be a hero. Can't get anything done."

"Oh, I can get plenty done," Second Hero retorted. "And the fact that I don't need to resort to violence to do that says a lot about your incompetence, despite your boasting."

That seemed to leave Lead Hero speechless, his mouth flapping as he tried to speak.

Second Hero turned away from him, coming over and crouching down in front of the huddled villain, who instinctively raised an arm defensively to block whatever blow he anticipated.

Second Hero gently grabbed the arm and lowered it to get a look at Villain's bashed face. His eyes were swollen, leaking tears of pure pain down his cheeks, and she could see him fighting winces as the salt from them ran over the open wounds on his skin. Blood streamed steadily from his badly broken nose, flooding down his chin to drip into his lap.

"T-Thank you," Villain wheezed in a raspy voice that was hoarse from screaming.

"I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner," Second Hero said softly. The damage was nauseating to look at. She slipped an arm behind Villain's back, carefully helping him to his feet. But he almost immediately collapsed, slumping against her with a weak moan, and she tightened her grip to keep him from falling.

Second Hero slung one of Villain’s arms over her shoulder to hold him up, practically dragging him toward the door to get him medical help.

"You traitor!" Lead Hero snarled, and started struggling harder under the massive shadow wolf pinning him as she walked past with Villain. “Villain is a monster, he doesn't deserve your sympathy!”

Second Hero paused, casting him a cold, dark glance, and when she spoke, her voice was deadpan, devoid of all emotion. “...And neither do you.”

Suddenly, one of her shadow wolves sank its fangs into his calf, and he shrieked in agony as it viciously shook its head before letting go.

“That injury will prevent you from walking far. Don't try to follow me.” Second Hero turned her face away, and the two wolves backed off from Team Leader and Sidekick, fading into wisps of black smoke.

“Consider this my resignation,” she tossed over her shoulder, and then she was gone, taking Villain with her.

Masterlist

@lumpofsand

@isikedmyself878

@scoundrelwithboba

@iamheretohurt

[rkaln]

It would be so fucking amazing if you ever made art for an illustrated leegaa/gaaleesbians fan fic. I would read it just for your beautiful art.

♡thank u! but the last sentence… if I did this, then I would definitely want you to read the text first for the sake of this text :c not for art

but it seems like I said most of it in this post

and I'm pretty bad with fanfiction mostly (not to mention that I almost don't have time to look for the text that will be mine)

so I would be really happy to make art for some (some… IS IT WORTH TELLING WHICH TGOD) fanfiction, but yes. the problem is that I'm disgruntled with what I've done and mostly feel more like a piece of shit lol. (please do not comment in any way lol, this is just a fact that extends to my attitude towards myself in general, including the skill in drawing - so I really appreciate your feedback (it really makes me believe that everything is not so bad with me), but at the same time I see something else. I'm just trying to accept that we look differently at at least this part of my life + I generally accept it all just as a fact)

and if it usually doesn't make a lot of sense, then in this case it becomes important - because I would like to do something really good for the text that I love. and this… It's really difficult, bcse it's important for you to do it well.

but you're frustratingly not good enough every time

it sounds like today is my day of depressive posts, and I can't afford to talk about sad shit x)

so despite all this. I hope that at least for the TGOD (and maybe something else in the future?) will finish doing some of the dozens of options that I would like, and regardless of the level of disappointment in myself, I will show it x)))

[billyboyblue]

Hi, hello.

You've made the mistake to use tags and I read tags and now I'm here

I'm asking questions. What are we thinking? How unwell do we feel when we see this shooting (personally pretty unwell but it hurts so good)? Prayer circle? Manifesting ritual? What will it be?

You know that Pete Holmes skit that's like, I don't wanna fuck him. That's not enough. That's only a little piece of me inside him. I want to get all up in there and wear him like a puppet. That's how I feel about this man but in a scale that covers everything.

It's about his commitment to be really good at his job and his way of constantly improving and learning and implementing his skills in new and interesting ways. It's his openness to criticism and self awareness that he lives a ridiculous life and uses that absurdity to push past the limits in creativity the comfort of practice and success can make. Stagnation is an antithesis of art and what I've never been, with Jake's work, is bored. He's wonderfully exploratory with roles without seeming like its stunt pieces meant to draw attention for attention's sake.

He's doing Othello with Denzel Washington, who is in my opinion the single greatest actor we've ever seen, bar none go talk to your mama about it, and that's like i think going to be his lifetime performance for himself. To do Shakespeare, contrary to popular belief, is insanity when it comes to performing it well. There's entire universities dedicated to nothing but Shakespeare so to have that under his belt is going to be incredible. He's not afraid of playing a spectrum of characters, and he doesn't mind commiting body and soul to his work.

This quote from the interview today made me all gushy because it's such a small insignificant thing but it's so insightful and about my husband Billy. Fuck me up, this can't keep hitting me over and over again. Billlllly!! Baby it's okay!! Oh God.

-"He has used his blindness sometimes to help him as an actor — when he was shooting a difficult scene in the 2015 boxing movie Southpaw, one in which police tell his character that his wife has died, Gyllenhaal removed his contacts to force himself to listen more closely."

I'll suggest some of my favorite essays on his movies!

Analyzing Evil: Lou Bloom || The Vile Eye

Nightcrawler || Spikima Movies

What makes nightcrawler's Lou Bloom so terrifying? || Nerdstalgic

Why Jake Gyllenhaal is the Bravest Actor of Our Generation || Du Cinema

Jake Gyllenhaal and the Elusive Oscar || The Awards Contender

Now the last two are a little dramatic on the titles but overall they give a great peak into his career and do his justice. This kind of reputation isn't just handed out, the only other Oscar nominees of this caliber without a win were like Leonardo DiCaprio and Amy Adams. It's huge. But I'll definitely keep singing his works' praise. His fandom is so committed and that's what makes it fun. I'm so new here I still find bits and pieces in every movie that others have found and talked about and gushed over but I'm gonna say it again! Lolol.

And if you're looking for a wonderful lil video on our king Denzel, Our Greatest Living Movie Star || Scene it is the one. Thanks so much for enabling me 😘🫴💕.

[unicornmachine]

Unicornmachine AO3 Masterlist

Okay I've wanted to make this post forever so here we go~

For starters, absolutely none of these are safe for work, they are all so very explicit, I'm sorry.

Fiolee

OMG did this pairing possess me (and continues to...) there are so many stories I’ve written for them I’m making a read more break here.

Love in the Moonlight

Summary: Fionna the Human drops by the Candy Palace for the Biennial Gumball Ball, but she doesn't get much dancing done as she's approached by Marshall Lee the Vampire King. She hasn't seen him in years, since she's gone off on rumors searching for a new Enchiridion in Aaa and he's been spending his time in the Nightosphere, and wow. He's just as she remembered, down to the incessant flirting. Let's see if he can make good on any of these promises.

First off, okay, let me just say this was my OG Fiolee fic and the first fanfic I had written in well over a decade. I started out like many authors writing fanfics as a teenager but stopped when I started working on original works. I published three OC books IRL and really enjoyed writing them but there's something about writing fanfics that is just... so much more fun to me. I rewatched Adventure Time and remembered how much I always loved the Fiolee pairing, so I tried to look them up on AO3 to read about them... AND THERE WAS HARDLY ANYTHING!

Oh no, I told myself, I will just write one little fanfic for fun, for old times sake! WHAT A LIE THAT TURNED OUT TO BE.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I wrote Love in the Moonlight, but I'm so happy I did.

The Deal

Summary: In a moment of desperation Fionna makes a deal with Marshall Lee the Vampire King.

Oh man... The concept of this fic was so undoing to me, a human making a deal with a vampire? A little of their blood in exchange for some necessary help? UGH!!!

A Challenge Between Friends

Summary: In an attempt to win a challenge to scare Fionna, Marshall Lee accidentally takes things too far while exploring a dungeon and loses his grip on himself.

My friend and I were literally feral coming up with the concept of this. I mean... sexy vampire? Dungeon sex? Marshall sucking the red coloring out of Fionna's bra? WHO SITS AROUND AND DISCUSSES THIS STUFF WITH THEIR FRIENDS?! Me, apparently!

Fionna Campbell: Vampire Hunter

Summary: After 1000 years of peace vampire attacks are popping up and it seems a new vampire is preying on the land. Who better to cleanse the land of this new evil than the original vampire hunter, Marshall Lee the Vampire King. He’ll just need some human bait.

This fic... OMG this fic, this fic, this fic... This is probably my favorite story I've ever written. It is so self-indulgent to me and I honestly had so much fun writing it.

The Star

Summary: Fionna travels through the multiverse, to the universe where the vampires won on a mission to retrieve Simone a new crown. While traveling through the wreckage of this strange, new Aaa she meets The Star.

All I could think while watching the Fionna and Cake episode about Marceline becoming The Star was... WHAT IF WE FLIPPED THIS? AND MARSHALL WAS THE STAR? AND HE CAPTURES FIONNA?! hahahahahaha!!!

There are also multiple one-shots and smaller stories on my AO3 featuring this pairing. Love in the Moonlight has a follow up that is still in progress that is linked to the original fic. One may argue this is simply too much Fiolee porn for one person to write. The only thing I can think is... it's never enough.

Huntbunny

Ahhh! This pairing is so cute! I love the idea of Fionna and Hunter Wizard. I haven't written NEARLY enough of these two, but I have more stories in progress.

The Magic Flower

Summary: Fionna runs into trouble deep in a forest on a mission to retrieve a magic flower. Thankfully, someone finds her and helps her out...

So, this story came from a friend sending me some very explicit Huntbunny fanart from the X artist Yakza_draw. I wrote a story to go with the art and sent it to the artist as a thank you for her making such a wonderful work. She ended up becoming a very dear friend of mine, so this fic will always have a special place in my heart.

The Traveling Fountain

Summary: A string of misfortunes leads to Fionna being knocked unconscious and Cake trapped in a moving cave inside an enchanted forest. Hopefully her new friend can help her find a way to rescue her sister and get to the bottom of where all this rotten luck is coming from.

[frasier-crane-style]

Wonder Woman: Dead Earth

Spoilers

The good: I liked the way this story was executed. Diana's characterization initially was very good: she's merciful, compassionate, loving. Art's good, plot is well-paced, they go pretty deep into Amazon lore instead of a more general DCU stuff--there's no other superheroes aside from Superman and Batman. I liked the new origin DWJ came up for Diana, which adds a Prometheus twist to Diana's existence which for me played well better than "she's Zeus's daughter" and dare I say improves on Perez's girlpower origin.

The bad: I'm so conflicted on how the story develops, because it gets very Zach Snyder. Diana turns out to be eminently corrupt, guilt-ridden, and brooding. The Amazons themselves are massively villainous. Wondy herself is largely responsible for destroying the world. Yeah, there are extenuating circumstances and sympathetic reasons--Diana going bee-zerk with her bracelets removed makes a reappearance from pre-Crisis continuity and really confuses the issue by making her not totally aware of her actions (so was she essentially brainwashed for all that? Should she not feel guilty? Why remove her agency, or put that agency on Hippolyta for telling her to do something she didn't/couldn't know the consequences of?). But the endgame of all of it seems to be to make Diana as broody as Batman, if not more so, and even in an AU... why? Maybe it's me, but I'm a bit sick of these tropes being overused: the Waynes being evil, Krypton being evil, evil Superman... seeing them applied to Wonder Woman doesn't do much to freshen them up.

The weird: Bulletpoints suddenly go!

*The usual role of Phillipus (Diana's trainer, Hippolyta's hard-edged general) goes to Nubia for some reason. I guess because DC was pushing her, but it just makes me feel like she has no real identity of her own if she's getting slotted into Phillipus's role just for the sake of it. And the Wonder Woman movie didn't include Phil either! What, is the bald black lady just too Black Panthery now?

*For a post-apocalyptic world where people have to walk everywhere, everyone sure is able to get from Gotham City to the Fortress of Solitude to Paradise Island in a hurry.

*It's implied/stated that the reason for the conflict is the Amazons worrying that global warming will flood Paradise Island like in Waterworld. I suppose I shouldn't complain about pseudoscience in a comic book, but melting icecaps would only rise the sea level two hundred feet. Inconvenient, certainly, but that's just about the height of one of those cliffs Amazons are always dramatically diving off of. Even if it screwed the rest of the world, well, since when have they been shown to care over much about that?

*On the media literacy website, TV Tropes, someone thinks that Superman redirected a nuke from Smallville to Paradise Island. It seems to me pretty obvious that Supes would just disable a nuke or throw it into space rather than ever throwing it at another populated area, and Diana was raging at him for 'abandoning' the defense of Themyscira to save Smallville, but I am cracking up at the mental image of Superman kicking a nuke away from Smallville and watching it fly towards one tiny island in the Atlantic like

[babyrdie]

woooooorst take you've ever read? like very really worst!

Thetis (the mythological one) as a good mother is an empty archetype that makes her an uninteresting character with no personality traits other than motherhood.

I think some people read The Iliad and think that's all there is about Thetis in mythology. It's OBVIOUS that Thetis in The Iliad is a character focused on Achilles, she's a secondary character…but not him, Achilles is definitely not a secondary character! Patroclus is also a secondary character whose function serves Achilles' plot and no one who says this about Thetis says that he is uninteresting for that reason, they actually like him! (If anyone is reading this without having the context of my tastes…don't get me wrong, I'm also a Patroclus fan lol)

In fact, ironically even in The Iliad...Achilles isn't her only relevant relationship! She caught Hephaestus after being thrown from Mount Olympus and cared for him, she has a good relationship with Hera and was raised by her, she received Dionysus on his flight from Lycurgus, Zeus owed hera favor for helping him when Hera rebelled against him, she has a good relationship with her sisters and they are often together. Even considering only The Iliad, it's stupid to say that her character only has one important relationship. She wouldn't even be able to help Achilles so much if she didn't have these connections, be serious! And she didn't need to give any of this help, she did it because she wanted to. Because she had the power to do it. She took an active role in this, Thetis wasn't this passive little thing people seems to think she was.

And there are other myths! People say "well, the mythological Thetis isn't complex because she's a good mother, and she has no obligation to be a good mother to a child she had with a man she didn't even want"…yes, she didn't want Peleus. This is precisely WHY mythologically she doesn't get along with Peleus. Because yeah, this is already in mythology!! This character ALREADY had the characteristic of not having an adorable relationship with Peleus, she already had feelings of her own, let's not pretend that the character is empty of opinion just to fit in a argument. Read the Argonautica, even Hera and Peleus note how Thetis really isn't on good terms with him. In mythology, it's even shown in text and visual art (such as ceramics) how she fought Peleus in an attempt to protect herself. Thetis has always been a complex character with her own feelings! Or the myths in which Zeus desires her! She clearly rejects him, she clearly avoids him, she clearly cares a lot about Hera. Thetis HAS her own feelings, she has her own personality.

"Well, making her a good mother makes her character a dumb archetype because it doesn't bring any complexity around motherhood" THERE'S ALREADY COMPLEXITY IN THETIS MOTHERHOOD, FOR THE SAKE OF GOD! Firstly, there are a lot of sources surrounding Thetis' attempts to immortalize Achilles, showing the complexity of being a mother goddess who tries to make her son divine like her and fails. Secondly, she didn't raise Achilles, which also opens up possibilities to explore. Thirdly, there are the versions of the myth in which she hides Achilles in Skyros, which once again reinforces the idea of the fear of her son's mortality. Fourth, there are the ways she gets favors from gods to help him and how she mourns him deeply, knowing she will never meet him again (after all, she's immortal. She can never die and see him in the Underworld).

The damn complexity is precisely in the part where Thetis was forced into a marriage she never wanted for a reason that wasn't even her fault and had a mortal son who would never really be part of her world. She fought against Peleus and unfortunately was unable to protect herself, she tried to immortalize Achilles and unfortunately was unable to immortalize him, she tried her best to prevent Achilles' early death and unfortunately was unable to keep him safe. She's always successfully helping other people, but in her own life that's not how things go. It's about how she has relationships with so many people, relationships that are even somewhat difficult to put in a box (her relationship with Hera and Zeus, for example). It's about how Thetis often had the power to do something to change the situation, and she did it because she wanted to and because she could.

So no, she isn't an empty archetype of a tender mother. That's a stupid opinion. I'm generally open to opinions and interpretations that I disagree with, because I know people disagree with what I think sometimes too, but in this case it's a stupid opinion. Yes, the idea of a woman forced into her situation being a bad mother can be complex too if written well. But please don't fucking pretend that the mythological Thetis is an empty archetype.

[bluebeads-art]

your art is so amazing !!! i adored the 3d printed stuff (as someone who has had to design myself 3d printed merch before because i don't usually have much access to the merch in my fandom lol), it's so good?? and all your coloring is beautiful <3

all this to say it might not seem like i reblog much but rest assured all the stuff i liked (or didn't) went into my queue a few times over hehehe. i LOVE your art it's amazing <3

wishing you luck with the identity and health stuff, even if it doesn't get better i hope you find happiness within it 🫡

gah this got away from me sorry for the ramble

aaaaaaa I saw this message in a notification on my phone, said "I'll read that when I actually have time to reply," then the notification got dismissed somehow and if there's no notification prompt to remind me of something, it no longer exists to me. It's been a month I'm so sorry ^^;;

Thank you so much! I wish it was easier to convert more of my stuff to be 3D printable, but my usual modeling style is not watertight in the slightest and disregards gravity entirely. 😆 3D modeling has always been really cool to me because there's so many different workflows depending on what you're trying to make. Keeps things from getting stale!

Speaking of differences, I feel like people don't tend to mention my coloring. :0 I think my line art usually steals the show, heh. I used to be a lot more conscious about color theory and shading when I was younger, but these days there's no thoughts, only vibes 😂

Ok the line, "even if it doesn't get better i hope you find happiness within it" hit me unexpectedly hard (in a good way). Any nice messages I get always means a ton to me, but while I don't seem to be able to articulate why at the moment, I think that line will stick with me for much longer than usual. Thank you so much ♥

---

Speaking more generally (this message just gave me a good excuse to talk, heh)- spoilers; the artist in my brain refuses to die. So after, like, a literal year of not touching it, I've started working again on a 3D modeling project that I started in 2021 that has been haunting me ever since. Been trying to redesign a robot OC of mine Rayner, and I'm really particular about wanting his joints to work in a physical space instead of bending the rules artistically. I'm Really bad at designing complex hard surface objects in flat 2D though. However, there's a reason artists tell you not to character design in 3D, and that's because it's slow, it's easy to lose design cohesion, and most importantly it just sucks, awful workflow. But I am Doing it. And while I was super stuck for years and almost developed a friggin phobia of the project, I am now Doing It. And it's actually working out this time. The 3D model itself is MILES from being done, but the design almost is, and while that's a boring end result for other people, it represents a huge milestone and accomplishment for me in many ways.

I've been drawing a little bit lately too! But I feel my social media hiatus has given me a healthier relationship with posting? Like I have a few doodles that I could either post now or post soon, but I don't feel the same pressure to anymore? Where even if I never post them, I think I'm fine with that. I've always thought I made art for myself, but that's not exactly true because I was also making art for the sake of sharing. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with that, I think being able to separate the two and be content with simply just creating is healthy. Also I'm still not as active on social media in general anymore which is probably healthier as well LOL.

So I'll prrrobably start posting again soon-ish now that I've broken this blog's posting silence? Not sure how to wrap this monologue up. My physical health problems are going to keep on probleming, but in terms of artistic fulfillment I've been in a much better place this past month, and that's a huge yeehaw from me 👍

[thebottomfromhell]

ONE-SHOT

Requested OC Reuniting with Sekido and making up for lost time (smut)

From and for @serenesaku

Warnings: Sexual content, Implied cannibalism, Degradation kink, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Rough sex, Slight BDSM. Clothed sex, fingering (anal on Sekido, vaginal on OC), slight edging, Slight vouyeutism (no other party included).

Damn her if she doesn't hate Hashira. Ever since she and her sister got separated Akeno stopped worriying about being killed by them, it was relieving at first. Then she had to actually start facing Hashira alone... it was not as relieving. Don't misunderstand, without being able to die from decapitation she was more than able to kill humans, slayers included, take a bite or something, by her own. The thing is that she is built to have someone watching her back, it's part of her Blood Demon Art, that's it.

She is fighting TWO damn pillars right now, looking for her head as her neck was cut from behind, what are they even doing here right now? She just arrived, but they seemed to already know there would be a demon in here. But who could be here, without her being able to sense it and yet strong enough to send not one, but two Hashira? The answer comes with a laugh and a strong blow of wind making the slayers fly away, making her crash with some trees, thankfully having already her head in her hands. "Hahaha, they throught they were already done with us and went to attack some other demon! Now that is rude! I also want to play! Wait up for me!" Karaku? Does that mean that-

Akeno can't even ask as Karaku jumps to follow after the Hashira to deal with them, ignoring her for the sake of some fun. She hear some steps coming up her way as she puts her head in place, though. She sees Sekido, sharing both eye contact, surprising of meeting each other. Hantengu is good keeping his presence hidden, too good for her liking, and Karaku seemed to have done it too to make a "stealth attack", if anything that clone can do could be considered stealthy. "Akeno? What the fuck are you doing here?! What the fuck were you doing fighting two Hashira alone?! You could have died!" Akeno rolls her eyes, same as always.

"It's that really the first thing you will say to me after, what? 30 years or so? C'mon, you can do better Sekido." He walks over her to grab her wrist, forcing her to step into his space "Don't make me angry, you could have been left at the sun. Then what? Your useless sister being home won't save you from that." She also grabs his wrist after that to throw him to the ground, back against the grass. Don't misunderstand, Akeno doesn't care too much of what Sekido can say about Yorumi. Too weak, too human for her liking, but she's still her sister so she might as well defend her a bit. Besides, it's been over thirty years, Akeno wants to play a little rough. She doesn't know when she will be able to see him again after tonight, so having Sekido scold her it's not how she wants to spend the time Karaku will use to toy with some slayers.

"Sounds like someone is desperate for me to shut him up, being so hurtful to me. I should make you regret it." He frowns slightly less than before, lips parting a little in a confused face. He is used to taking the lead in the relationship, Akeno keeping him calm while he takes care of her, sometimes in ways she can appreciate, sometimes not. Still, as she starts to set over him, her thighs keeping him in place as she grabs his both wrists over his head, staff aside. He could make a new one, force her off, but... "Just try it." He likes where this is going.

She smiles, it's been a long time, too long. She understands why the guys can't be separated all the time, and is well aware Sekido can't be with her as much as she would like, but that doesn't stop her from loathing it. Sekido is hers, he is forced to belong to Hantengu and to the master, but he gave himself to her willingly. Over and over and over. She bends to be able to kiss his lips, biting the other's mouth, causing him to growl against her fangs. He bleeds into her, letting her drink the red warm thick liquid, painting her lips red as she also uses a finger to spread the color as if with a lipstick through her mouth. Akeno chuckes at the intense stare of Sekido focusing on her own lips.

"You ahould make me feel good, you know? To apologize." She says as she moves her underwear, exposing her sex as she shifts to sit over his face, grabbing Sekido by the hair as she tangles her fingers with the strands, forcing his mouth and nose into her scrotch. "Work for it and I might forgive you." She can feel herself getting hot and wet against Sekido's breath, specially as he groans when she pulls to handle his face, making his mouth vibrate against her, making her sigh, almost moan, of pleasure and anticipation.

Sekido goes with it, not really having much choice with the clitoral hood against his nose and his mouth against the vulva, pressing his lips into the woman's skin, sucking it as it slowly lubricates itself naturally, as the liquids add up to his saliva. He starts using his tongue to lick the en entrance, making Akeno's spine tense a little from the sensations, starting to rub herself against him. His face is getting dirty on the process, which makes her laugh a little, already wanting to see him all messy.

Sekido pushes his tongue against the entrance, pupils dilatated as the smell of sex make him get hard, cock standing up against his robes, having Akeno moan softly, low and satisfying sounds, and panting as the wet organs hits against her insides, making her move more violently against her lover, slurping sound getting along with some groans as it becomes a bit unconfortable how her clitoris hits his nose. She still has not let his wrists go.

She suddenly stands up, though, stepping on his hands to prevent him of using them to clean himself, face all messy. She chuckles when a combination of her juices and his saliva slide down to his throat, Sekido knows how to eat her up good, "I forgive you, you are too good of a whore to stay mad at you." but she wants more than that. "Shut up! As if you didn't jump into me as the slut you are! Hungry for my cock, nothing else!" She loves this, she can insult him without him feeling hurt, call him a whore, a mess, a toy, and he will do nothing but bounce back to her with that same energy.

But she is fancying to have him inside, so still stepping on him she starts to finger herself only to pent him up a little more. "Beg for me to touch you, I can just cum having you like this." As if he could beg for his life! Know, Akeno knows this pretty well, but it's just hot to see her beloved get frustrated, dick pulsating against his cloth, probably in a painful erection, as she massages her clit and inserts two fingers, there is a bit of resistance at first, but nothing painful after having a tongue playing around. "Fucking- don't make me take things on my own hands or you will regret it!" Someone is getting sensitive. She laughs as she takes her fingers off mofore moving with her feet Sekido's lower part of the kimono, before kneeling to move the fundoshi.

The erection is red, painfully so, and she always though he had a delectable size. Not the biggest she has seen, with the amount of bodies she has come across in all her years (not that she slept around, but nothing wrong on checking out for dinner), but definetely one that fitted her perfectly. She sits on it, grabbing Sekido's to force him at her level as she rides him, letting him into her heat, filling and rubbing just the right spots as she bounces up and down.

It's hot, wet sounds appear with Sekido groaning and growling as she pants and lets a high moan out everytime the tip brushes the g-spot. "F-fuck! Argh! Woman, slow down!" Akeno presses one hand on his throat as Sekido grabs her naked thighs. She doesn't listen to him, grabbing him to make sure he doesn't bite her (she doesn't mind when he does, but right now he doesn't want him to delude himself thinking he got any power in the situation), choking him as both lengthen parts are squeezed tightly. When the groans get faster, a pitch higher, she knows he will cum. It's normal for him to cum first, even if that wounds his pride. "Aww, -hah- is my -hah- love -mnn- about to cum? Eager... argh whore -hah- you are!" With that he tries to force himself to last more than her... in vane.

She can feel his hot, thick seed in her insides, making her stand up. "Look at the mess you made. Better clean up." But... just make him eat her out again would be boring, would it not? And Akeno is sure that, being Upper 4, Sekido can cum again. And he will is she wants him to. As she feels the white liquid slide through her thighs she grabs and pulls her lover's hair again as she forces him over her, gaining a hiss as she handles him. She is facing his, now softer dick and he is facing her vagina. She moves the clothes to expose him completely.

"You know how I like it, love." She basically purrs against his scrotch as she grabs his ass, squeezing his buttlucks in her hands. Sekido groans but still bends forward to lick his own cum slipping put of her entrance, grabbing her hips to position her in a way she has better access. Akeno runs her own tongue through Sekido's balls and lenght as she feels him pressing his lips against her clit first, before sucking it a bit. She trembles at the pleasure, due the previous stimulation she doesn't think she will last that long a second time, so she gets creative.

She interrups Sekido a bit, who growls when one of her hands takes a bit of his seed from her pussy to bring her hand again to his ass. "Hey, what do you think you are- Urghahh~!" He is a bit loud due the surprise when she inserts two "lubricated" fingers into his anus. "A-Akeno..." It's not the first time his lover shows interest in his ass, but she has never done nothing so bold before. He is hard again, the pain and the irritation exiting him besides the sensation of her slender yet strong fingers hitting against his walls. "Did I say you could stop?" For a second he must remind himself that he loves this woman, or else he would not let her treat him like this.

He slurps against her cunt, licking and sucking the most amount of cum he can off her, groaning because of the stimulation in his hole and cock, as she is also licking him there, making his mouth vibrate against her vulva. Then there is an actual moan, gagged against her as Akeno found his prostate. She smirks againts the dick before hitting that specific spot over and over again to the point she can feel his tears drop into her legs as he keeps moaning into her clit and entrance, how could she not moan too?

She cums first this time, even though she doesn't stop until Sekido releases his seeds into her mouth, letting her go as he gets off her.

They don't say anything for a while, not because they are tired but because they are relaxing a bit. Now that they are in silence they can hear both Urogi and Karaku at the distance, having fun with the Hashira. Good, thinks Akeno, they deserve it for ganging up on her and cutting her head. Now she just focus on her lover as she leans her head over his shoulder. "I missed you." She says casually as she looks at the moon, it's a very nice night. "..... Yeah... me too."

[handweavers]

i really appreciated that post as someone who's had to reckon with the same thing to get myself less attached to social media. i understand why you deleted it, but i wish you didn't have to

same i used to just endlessly watch stuff and play stuff just to numb myself and avoid having to think about my life, and i still struggle with using video games as a form of escapism even when it's actually harming me and making my life worse. people are very resistant to the idea that escapism is something that can be harmful as well as to the suggestion that perhaps it could be beneficial to reflect on why you feel the need to constantly be watching or playing something especially shows and games that you don't even really enjoy and think are bad but can't seem to stop yourself from just continuing to do it anyway bc we get drawn into this kind of numbing distraction that's encouraged and deliberately designed by capitalists for the sake of profit but acknowledging any of that is interpreted as "no you don't understand my tvs and games are good for me and art is healing and beautiful and you are an asshole who thinks all art is is mindless consumption" that's great but that's not what i was asking

like i said in the addendum to the original post if someone doesn't want to think about that or can't handle it i don't judge them for that at all but i still think it's worth asking ourselves those questions anyway, because asking myself those questions has helped me. but people are free to make their own choices and it's none of my business what they choose to do with their time etc etc etc continue to watch your marvel movies in peace you can do whatever you want forever and ever and ever

[asherloki]

The love is real! Part 2

Stephen strange x reader

Part 1

Part 3

Y/n finds it absolutely ridiculous, "what... I... No I'm not" yet stammered answering him.

Stephen narrowed his eyes, "are you sure?"

Y/n feels irritated, "stop it I don't accept you as my husband okay?"

Stephen keeps his eyes narrowed "well I'm starting to think you like me"

Y/n laughs at this, but also knows in her heart he's not wrong in his assumption, not entirely "oh gosh, nice joke" then becomes annoyed and says "I'm going inside you seem to be out of your fucking mind" saying this she turns away and walks to her room.

Stephen sighs thinking there's literally no way she's willing to work on this marriage. He looks at the door for sometime, should he enter? Will it be a good idea? Maybe not. He thought and walked away to train. As y/n heard from inside his footsteps going downstairs she opened the door a little and when he went out of sight she came out. She'd be lying if she says she isn't willing to see them training. It's interesting. But Stephen would be there, he'd come talk to her and she wasn't okay with it. It's not like she doesn't like him, the truth was something else. She likes him exactly the way he does but does he? Or it's just a marriage for the sake of the universe. He's alot older than her and master of mystic arts. All she ever wanted is a marriage of love, she wouldn't let her heart break for anyone so she thought she'd find herself someone else. so after this mission she can get away with it. Also would be easier to not to get attached to Stephen if she has someone else. She walked towards the students where they were training. Stephen saw her coming out, he was relieved that she's trying to get involved atleast in training. But wait. He noticed she was just talking there with the students and after they talked she looked at him for a second and went inside. Stephen was confused so he also walked after her. She was at the staircase when Stephen called "wait y/n" . Y/n turned to him and Stephen smiled until he saw a piece of paper in her hands.

"Hey I thought you were there to train, but... What's this?"

"Oh this? Ah, phone number of Kevin, there your student".

"I see, I know Kevin, so why did he gave you his number?"

"Well, because he said I'm pretty, he too looks nice actually".

"So, what do you want to do with?" He asked as politely as possible "I'm rather curious, do you want me to set you up with him ? Since you refuse to accept this marriage".

Y/n was smirking all this time, but this, as if he too is giving up on making her willing to work on their marriage, this was disappointing, she stopped smirking, but she gained her confidence and said, "why? Any problem other men giving me number? Ofcourse it's a forced marriage can you deny?"

"Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, and... You may not be fond of me.."

He didn't have to complete his sentence. It was enough to hurt her to think that he assums she doesn't like him, but she does, it's just... Just...

Stephen continued, "but give us a chance, if this marriage thing is happening let us try and get to know eachother "

Marriage thing? She thought, this time she was almost sure this is just for the mission, almost sure. Still she managed to answer him, atleast the wrong conception he has, must be corrected,

"It's not like that... I... Don't like you, I can say, I..." She didn't know what to say, if she says she likes him what will he reply, "I don't dislike you" that's that came out.

"Let's start with that" said Stephen "let me fix things then ?"

To be continued....

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Book Five: Section Seven

Jackie and Marvin have a rough time of things. Henrik comes back towards the surface, at least for a minute. Masterlist

Tws for self-hatred, past abuse, suicidal and depressive ideation, and Marvin lashing out at the audience. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.

Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!

Anonymous asked:

Happy birthday Jackieboy! How goes the end of the ballet? Or are they not quite there yet?

He pants in the darkness of the alley, his hood over his head. He flexes his fingers. Stretches his neck. Spits.

“Yeah,” he says lowly. “Apparently that one doesn't turn out so well in the end."

At his feet, a trio of bodies. He turns and walks away, shaking blood off his hands.

Got to get the anger out somehow.

Anonymous asked:

Jackie what happened?? What did you do?

“What? They’re the ones who picked a fight.” He strikes the wall beside him, hard. “Drunk fucks.”

And if he went to a bad part of town in the hopes that somebody might provoke him, that’s nobody’s business.

Anonymous asked:

Aww Jackie. I'm sorry the play wasn't pleasant and upset you. But can I ask why you needed to beat up three people over it? Did something happen?

“They were hollering at some girl. I handled it for her. I did good. I stopped it. I did!”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges home, kicking at rocks.

Anonymous asked:

There are healthier ways to punch things, JBM. Considered buying a punching bag or joining a gym? Martial arts lessons? Just anything but beating up strangers unless you suddenly like the idea of jail.

“Not the same rush,” mutters Jackie, eyes dark. “He spent so long teaching me to be his killer. Learned to like the adrenaline. The control. He would always be so proud of me… and I guess I’m just fucked up enough to enjoy the power of it.”

He stares down at the ground as he walks.

“Do you remember when we all went back in time, and Marvin told me what a hero I was? And how I was a good big brother and they all loved me? I want to be that person again. I’m trying to be Jackie. But there are parts of me that will always be Red, and I’m not sure I can handle that. There are parts of me that will always be scarred by him. No matter how much I heal.”

He kicks a stone. “I just want to go home. I shouldn’t have done that. I know. I was angry before. It made me feel better, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked:

Heroism is not random acts of vigilantism, Jackie. Heroism is self sacrifice for the good of others. You don't need to pick fights to be a hero again.

“I like picking fights, though,” he says. “I’m his little killer. It’s the only thing I’m good at. Fights and tech. I can’t even make Blue smile anymore.”

Anonymous asked:

Ah yes, "all you're good at" as though you haven't been brave and powerful and strong for months now purely for the sake of your brothers, as if you havent been sacrificing every part of yourself for the good of their health and safety. You're still more of a hero than you ever were a killer.

That makes him smile a little, playing with his hands.

“They deserve better. That’s all.”

Anonymous asked:

How'd the ballet go Jackie? Also, Blue is going to need your support and encouragement when you get home, he's not doing well, and you're the only person he seems to feel like he hasn't hurt.

“What? What’s wrong with him?”

He reaches the steps up to their apartment, gripping anxiously at the bars of the staircase. “Chase might be a better help to him than me.”

Anonymous asked:

Blue asked for you specifically! He seemed to want to be comforted by you before. Maybe spending some time together would be good for both of you.

“He wants me?”

Jackie steps quietly into the apartment, locking the door behind him. Their empty living space looks back at him, but at least he knows the fridge and cupboards are stocked now.

Blue’s door is slightly open. Jackie peers inside. His twin is hiding beneath the covers, quiet. There’s a couple little packages on the bed, wrapped up in newspaper.

Anonymous asked:

Ooohh packages? What's inside? And how are you doing Blue?

Jackie pulls apart the top package carefully, finding the Princess Bride wrapped up inside. He grins and looks up to find Blue looking back at him, eyes tired.

“Happy birthday,” Blue mumbles.

“Thanks,” says Jackie softly.

“You’re coming to bed?”

“How are you?” Jackie redirects, blinking at him.

Blue pulls his covers up to his chin. “Fine.”

“Oh, good,” says Jackie, sighing. “The cameras thought you were upset.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Then you should sleep.”

Blue gazes at him, mouth tight.

Anonymous asked:

The anger and guilt and self-hate are a part of the healing process, Marvin. Chase is right, it takes time. Time and therapy and building of a support system. You can't expect to magically be healed in only a short amount of time AND without talking to a professional or taking medicine to help with your moods. You can take action to heal quicker, but you're refusing it.

Blue slides back onto his side while Jackie looks through his presents - his new jackets and shoes and the book and some candy. He’s eating Hot Tamales by the time he looks up again, and it is then, in the lowlight of their only lamp in the house, that he sees Blue shaking with tears, silent against his pillows.

Jackie crawls over him on the bed, confused, and uses his sleeve to wipe at his reddened face. It’s not like Blue to cry. He gets mad. He does not cry. Jackie is often the same way.

“Not fine?” asks Jackie.

Blue moans and buries his face in his pillow. Jackie hovers over him, hand on his shoulder, brushing away his tears.

“You can… have anything you need,” offers Jackie anxiously. “Just tell me. I can try. I’m not good at any of it but I can try. I would bring you anything.”

“Nothing’s going to fix this.”

“Fix what?” asks Jackie, bewildered. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I wish you could just - the way that Chase always knows exactly what Henrik needs. I wish you could do that.”

Jackie chews on his nails. “But I can’t do that.”

“I know, trust me…”

“So you have to tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“This isn’t fair,” protests Jackie, squeezing his shoulder. “Tell me, tell. You’re a liar. You said you were fine.”

Anonymous asked:

Blue, you are YOU. You are not Anti nor just what he left behind. You're an individual and you belong to yourself. Your body is yours, and your mind is yours. I understand the self hatred, it's brought on by your immense trauma and guilt. Stop, slow your thoughts, identify your strengths, learn to accept compliments and good words from yourself and others, and develop some self compassion instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings.

“Compliments, I can do compliments,” says Jackie swiftly.

“Jackie - is there blood on you? Hey!”

“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. I love you. You’re smart, did you know that?”

“You jackass, you did not get in another fight. Come on, we’re going to the bathroom to clean you up right now.”

Jackie lets Blue pull him by the arm towards the bathroom.

“You read so fast I bet you could learn anything if you just felt like it. You know like five languages. I love how you - how you hold yourself? Like you know you’re something just a little bit unnatural. Just a little dangerous. You should because when you use your power, you look like some kind of constellation come to life.”

“Jackie…” Blue blots blood from his face with a washcloth, pushing the soft hair from his face. “I don’t need compliments. I just want to take care of you, okay?”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” shouts Jackie.

Blue slows, blinking at him. Jackie blinks back, their hands tentative in the air between them.

“You won’t let anyone do anything,” croaks Jackie. “Just angry and unhappy all the time.”

“Hypocrite,” whispers Blue.

Jackie just looks down, shaking his head. After a long moment, he slinks forward and places his head on Blue’s shoulder, hiding against his neck, and Blue is still.

“You are… you. My twin. I don’t care what name you go by. You don’t have to be anything else.”

The tears are back. Dripping down his cheeks.

“I want to be.”

“Then I want to help,” says Jackie. “As long as what you want to change is the parts of yourself that hurt you, and not the parts of yourself that just want the pain to stop.”

Anonymous asked:

Fine, okay, hate yourself forever if that's what you want. But Blue, goddamnit, you absolutely cannot treat your brothers like this. You cannot be cruel to them and take out your anger on them. You are hurting the people around you because of how much you hurt inside. Go to a therapist. Go to a psychiatrist. Get help, you have people willing to do it. Stop yourself in this tirade before you burry yourself in the dirt.

Jackie doesn’t know what to do with a crying Blue. He just… clings to him.

“I know how awful I’m being,” sobs Blue. “It keeps me awake. I feel like I can’t help it half the time. Something about them… not my Chase. It’s Dapper and Dok.”

“JJ and Schneep.”

“How am I supposed to see them that way when I saw them through Anti’s eyes?” Blue cries, clinging to his brother’s hoodie, to his hair, to his shoulders. “I beat Dok until he was screaming for me to stop, telling me he would do anything, I - ”

“You didn’t do that. That was Anti.”

“I held Dapper in my bed and forced him to lie down with me. I could have done worse. I could have done anything. That’s the worst fucking part. Anti could have done anything to him with my hands. He could have tortured him, could have made him kill, could have had sex with him, whatever he wanted. And I was in the same boat. He could have used my body for anything. And the two of us, we would lie there under Anti’s control, in that bed, for hours every night, neither of us moving, both of us trapped, helpless, helpless. Every time I look at him I’m - I’m - ”

He’s back in that bed again. Anti’s beneath his skin. Anti’s using him to beat Henrik, Anti’s using him to hypnotize Chase til he’s quiet again. Anti’s there. And Dapper’s looking back at him, just as trapped, just as despairing, and there is nothing he can do, nothing he can do, he has to do something, he has to do -

“Ow, ow, Blue!” cries Jackie, and when he comes back to awareness Blue has to tear roses out of his brother’s arms, gasping at the blood running down them.

“Oh, shit, I - Red, I didn’t mean to, I just - I’ll bandage it, I’m sorry!”

Anonymous asked:

You were violated, Blue. The others didn't deserve what happened to them, but you didn't deserve what happened to you either. You were stepped off your powers and your very autonomy, but even if it doesn't feel like it, you still have your worth. Not as a puppet but as a person and a brother and yourself.

“How do I come back from being used like that?” asks Blue. “Doesn’t it just fuck you up forever? He just… really took everything from me.”

“We’re here,” whispers Jackie.

“I look at all of you and see him. I look at myself and see him. Everything is drifting through his fog. I don’t even have the memories of a time where he wasn’t there.”

“You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” says Jackie, placing a hand on the back of his twin’s head and drawing him close. “You are a very distinct person from Anti. And I really think that we can… get better, in some ways.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.”

“I’m not,” admits Jackie weakly. “Because I think I’ve been feeling the same way. Like his killer. It helps me to talk about it because then at least I realize what it is I’m feeling.”

“I just feel bad about myself,” says Blue. “And… terrified every time I remember. Every time I look at JJ and Schneep, or something else reminds me. Then I lash out and I’m just playing his game again.”

Anonymous asked:

Start building something new, Blue. You can't heal if you keep insisting you're still Blue, but you don't have to be Marvin either. Be somebody new, make someone you can love. You don't have to hate yourself forever. Dye your hair, get a new piercing, or buy clothes that feel familiar. Be /you/. Not Blue, not Marvin. You don't have to just wallow in the hate. Change things about yourself that annoy you. Reinvent yourself, and stop pushing your family away.

“I’m sorry,” says Blue quietly. “There’s so little of me left I don’t know where to start building from. I don’t know what I want. Don’t trust myself to do anything to my own body. Like it’s not mine. I’d be scared to change it. I - ”

There’s a short sob somewhere down the hall.

Jackie stands straight up, his hand falling from Blue’s head in an instant. His eyes are wide and alert.

“Jackie - ”

“That was JJ,” he says. “That’s my little brother.”

And just like that - just one second later - he’s vanishing down the hall.

He’s gone.

Blue stands in the bathroom, mouth trembling. Jackie’s blood drizzles into the sink. Tears slip down his face, defeated and angry, and he hiccups on a sob of his own.

Anonymous asked:

Is JJ okay? And Jackie, get back to Blue as soon as you can, he's going through a lot right now, though I know all of you are and it must be hard to prioritize.

“Jamie, Jamie.” Jackie races towards him, pushing open his door. He knows what Blue says in situations like this. “Honey, love, here I am.”

His brother is gone from his room and Jackie’s heart panics for a second - he stole him away from me! - before he hears him crying from the closet. Jackie tears open the white door and kneels down beside him, gripping his shoulder. “Dapper, JJ, my little man. Look at me, pal.”

“Trapped, room, trapped, room, trapped, room,” JJ is signing, over and over again. “Trapped room trapped room trapped - ”

Jackie drags him right out of the closet, shoving the door to the room open and pulling him into the living space. He shoves open the door to their little cement balcony.

“No, no, I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble,” scream JJ’s hands, tearing at his hair.

“Not in trouble. You’re not in trouble. He’s not here. He won’t hurt you.”

“They locked my door in the psych ward, couldn’t get out, couldn’t get out! I’m trying to be good, I don’t want to go back, I’m in trouble!”

“No, Dap, no, you can stay, you’re not in trouble…”

Blue slides numbly from the bathroom, treading into the living room to listen to his twin’s loving voice soothing and reassuring JJ through his panic.

“I can’t sleep alone, I can feel him looking at me, and the bed is so cold, I haven’t slept alone in years!”

“I can stay with you if you want, just breathe, Jaimer, just breathe for me.”

Blue’s heart gives one sharp thud of pain. He clenches his fists and thorns and flame wreath his fingers, making them shake. His head swims. He hates this. Anger and guilt and despair.

Forget it.

“I’m right here, Jamie, my Jamie…”

Blue stalks back to his room and locks the door behind him.

Anonymous asked:

You aren't trapped JJ, it'll be okay. See, you can go out on the balcony! No one will take you away and no one will force you to be locked up anymore. Your big brother is letting you leave the room, letting you go out in the fresh air. You'll be okay. Never have to be trapped again.

“I couldn’t get out of my room at night at the hospital, and I was scared, I was scared, but I didn’t want - didn’t want to get stuck, had to be good to get out, had to - ”

“Breathe, Jaimer, slower for me, okay? Slower. They locked your door?”

“They can’t just let people wander at night…”

Jackie rocks them both back and forth on the floor, his brother pinned to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that was stressing you out?”

“I just wanted to be good so I could go home. Everybody was always watching me in that place. I’m just always a prisoner.”

“Ah, Dipper… fuck’s sake, I’m sorry this keeps happening. We just wanted you to be better, didn’t mean to reinforce anything he taught you. Were you just masking? Do you even feel better at all?”

“I do feel better, I do,” JJ answers him quickly. “But sometimes I think that coping with this - with all of this - the masking is the coping. If I can hide it I’m doing better. If I can tell that Anti’s not real when I see him across the room, if I can ignore him - that’s better than I was before.”

He’s wiping at his reddened face. Jackie rocks him slowly, watching him.

“But you still feel bad?”

JJ huffs out a sigh and places his head against Jackie’s shoulder, squeezing his knee for a second. “I just got scared, that’s all. There’s a part of me still so worried that Anti is here, in a way. That we’re going to fall back into old patterns. That you’d lock me up if I acted badly or that Blue is going to hurt me because I remind him of Anti.”

Jackie’s eyes darken. “Dude. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I can’t help my paranoia,” signs back Jamie, letting his eyes slide shut. “And I see it in his face: sometimes he does want to hurt me. To melt away the parts of me that remind him of Anti the same way he melted my knife.”

Jackie doesn’t know what to say. He rocks JJ until his brother’s breathing has slowed and his heart is jackrabbiting against the both of them, maybe ten minutes later.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says softly.

“Don’t leave me,” pleads JJ. “When my bed is empty, he comes to fill the space beside me. His hands run over my stomach.”

“I won’t, Jaimer. I won’t.”

Anonymous asked:

Oh, Blue honey, don't feel too awfully dejected from Jackie running off... You know he's hypervigilant when it comes to the younger three, but I'm sure he'll come back to you. You deserve care and comfort just as much as they do, maybe even more right now. Believe yourself to be worthy of comfort, even though the self-hatred tells you otherwise. Jackie loves you just as much as the others, he just trusts you more to handle yourself alone. For better or worse, honestly.

Blue changes into PJs quietly, the energy gone out of him. For a few minutes, he hears Jackie pulling at the door and calling his name, confused, but he doesn’t answer, and eventually his twin slips away again.

Off to deal with his favorites.

Maybe it’s his fault. He knows how stubborn he’s been. He’s refused help for so long that the others don’t know how to give it to him anymore, or even to recognize that he needs it. He doesn’t like to be fussed over much anyway, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be babied.

But it might be nice. Just for a minute. It might be nice to have Jackie call him little brother and cuddle up with him in their bed, just the two of them, instead of shying away from each other on either side of the mattress like they do most days. Like they don’t know what to do with each other anymore.

He wonders if Anti was what was holding the pair of them together - Anti and the need to protect their younger siblings. Red hated having a newcomer when they first met, after all. It wasn’t until Anti reset the both of them and shoved them into brotherhood that they decided they loved each other. Maybe they’re not even friends. Just survivors who were stranded on the same life boat, and now that they’re back on dry land, Jackie can go wherever he wants.

He lies in bed for a long time, but he can’t sleep. He’s slept all day. He trudges out into the hallway and peers into JJ’s room, just for a minute.

Jackie is curled around his younger brother, the pair of them asleep on the floor under blankets and each other’s arms. Jackie keeps Jameson safe.

Blue checks on Henrik and Chase.

“Dok?” he murmurs. “Why are you up?”

Henrik turns to him, blinking in the darkness.

“Do you need something?” he asks.

Henrik shakes his head. Chase is asleep in their nest, hand stretched out in the space where his twin should be.

Blue gives Henrik a kiss on the head. “Go to sleep, my darling.”

Henrik gazes up at him. For a second, his scarred hand rises to stroke across Blue’s cheek, cupping his face.

Blue thinks he would probably make everything right if he were here. Henrik would probably open his mouth and make everything in the world right.

He leads his little brother gently back to their nest and lies him down beside Chase, who readjusts instantly to hold him. They’re all magnets, clicking against each other, and Blue is just something plastic trying to fit in.

“Good night, sunshine.”

Henrik watches him leave their room, his blue eyes glittering in the moonlight. Blue closes the door behind him and goes back to bed.

.

Anonymous asked:

Blue you won't ever be anything but Antis if you keep insisting on not getting help. There's a reason you're not healing and don't feel okay, and it's because you won't talk to anyone, and you won't express how you feel, and you won't see professionals. You are sabotaging yourself. You need to see someone, get outside help. I know what it feels like to hate yourself, and taking it out on others around you is the worst thing you could do. Stop cutting people off with your hatred and guilt.

“I’m so glad you came,” Chase is telling him the next day, over and over. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thanks, I just - I’ve been worried. I love you, you know?”

He does know. He wants to be all fluffy and affectionate with him again, but he doesn’t have the energy. He doesn’t want to be here. But maybe everyone’s right.

He can’t handle this on his own.

“Mathew?” calls the receptionist.

“It’s Matti,” he says wearily, getting to his feet. “Chase, I’ll just be a few.”

“Take your time,” says Chase, squeezing his hand goodbye. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Blue steps back into the doctor’s office and sits down in an examination room, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes, worn.

Anonymous asked:

Tell the doctor about the unstable moods and anger you're dealing with, Blue. It might lead to you getting a psychiatrist and someone to talk to.

“So. What are we here to look at, Matti?”

Dr. Bowlan looks at him with this placid smile on his mouth, a clipboard resting on his knee. Blue sighs through his teeth, sick of this already. He knows, doesn’t he? He circled mood swings and irritability on his intake paperwork. He went through the questions the nurse asked him.

“Little interest or pleasure in doing things?”

“Every day.”

“Feeling down, depressed, or hopeless.”

“Most days.”

“Trouble falling or staying asleep, or sleeping too much.”

“Most days.”

“Feeling tired or having little energy.”

“Every day.”

“Poor appetite or over-eating.”

“Most days.”

“Feeling bad about yourself or that you are a failure or have let your family down.”

“Every day.”

“Trouble concentrating on things?”

“Some days.”

“Moving or speaking slowly or being restless and fidgeting.”

“Not at all.”

“Thoughts that you would be better off dead or hurting yourself in some way.”

“… Every day.”

“In the past two weeks, have you done anything or planned to do anything with the intent of ending your life?”

“No.”

“You’re not feeling good?” murmurs Dr. Bowlan, bringing him back to the present.

Blue shakes his head. No. He’s not feeling good.

“I’m taking it out on the others,” he says thinly. “I’m angry at all of them. It has to stop. I can’t help them like this.”

Anonymous asked:

There's definitely some problems here, Blue's clues. Please let the doctor help you find a solution without much sass or fighting it! /lh

“I’ll be as sassy as I want,” Blue mutters. Dr. Bowlan has talked him through every aspect of his feelings that he’s willing to talk about - so a whole five minutes of discussion - and he’s ready to go.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Matti, I think it might be a good idea to try some antidepressants and see how those go. I need to see you again next week and you need to take them every day. The truth is that medication really works best in conjunction with therapy. You could get into the same place as your brother if you would like…”

He listens to him drone on about therapy. He just wants to take the pills and go. Finally, he receives a prescription, and, with a mumbled thank you, he’s gone again. Chase beams at him from the waiting room, but Blue just sweeps past.

Anonymous asked:

I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor for help, Blue!

“Yeah, that’s a good first step,” agrees Chase warmly, hastening after his sibling, not sure why Blue is heading for the alley to the back of the building instead of walking back towards the bus stop so they can get him to work on time. “Blue, the bus stop is - ”

“I don’t need your fucking approval!” screams Blue, whirling on you, and it’s then that you see his eyes are blazing blue. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it! Just leave me the fuck alone, everyone, shut the fuck up, I don’t care!”

Chase leaps back, shocked, as the ground beneath his feet grows hot even through his new shoes. Fire crackles in Blue’s hands.

“Don’t send me another fucking question or another goddamn condescending congratulations or I’m going to - ”

He spins around again, seething through his teeth as his power makes his body shake. He needs to shut the fuck up before he says worse.

“Blue,” begins Chase, and Blue hears the shake in his voice. “You can’t be using magic in the city - there’s magicians, Jackie said - ”

“Just give me a minute!” he howls.

Chase cowers back against the wall and goes quiet.

Anonymous asked:

I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor's, Blue. Just remember that you need this help, and it'll be good for you in the long run. You'll make it through, even dealing with annoying doctor visits and your irritability. Be safe and let the doctors help as much as they can. - 🎒

His heartbeat seems to pulse up into his throat and his breaths come fast and shaky. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He hates this. All of it. Anger like a swelling of magma. Hot. It hurts his chest. He’s going to be sick. Grips his soft stomach and hates that too. Ugly and breaking down. He spits bile and weeds groan up from the cracks in the cement, twisted and back, dead by the time they’re grown.

He knows he’s scared Chase and he hates that too. His brother is hiding beside a garbage can, peering out at him like he used to peer out his broken window, on watch, hiding. Chase has learned how to live like a rat. Hates it, hates it. Flame up his back. He’s wreathed in his own fire. He glows with it - with the power, with the pain. Anger’s just hurt that doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

“We’re done talking about this,” he says through gritted teeth. “Talk to me again and I’m just going to ignore it. Just leave me alone.”

He draws himself up after long minutes. Chase curls in on himself against the trash cans, eyes big and wary. He reaches out to take Blue’s hand but won’t meet his gaze anymore. Head down, scared of him.

It’s his fault. His chest hurts from how hard his heart is beating.

Anonymous asked:

None of the congratulations were meant as condescending, Marvin. The audience is genuinely proud of you. Not everyone is out to annoy you, man. Chase, don't take anything he says personally, Blue is feeling extreme emotions and what's best right now, like with Jackie going to another room when he gets angry, is to just let him blow off the steam in a safe environment.

Chase glances up at Blue, who just ignores the message and keeps pulling him towards the bus. He wants to open his mouth to say something - I’m proud of you and I know they are too, is that so wrong? Why are you so angry all the time, why won’t you eat what I cook you, why don’t you come hang out with me and cuddle a little like we used to? I wish you would talk to me. Haven’t I been where you are? - but he isn’t going to push his buttons. He’s going to be good. He puts his head back down and keeps walking. Blue’s hand is hot in his own.

Anonymous asked:

Chase, were you scared of Blue just then? Maybe you should express that to him and clarify that you still love him despite it? I think he needs time alone once you get home, so on the bus or in this alley is your shot to talk with him about how he's making you feel.

“I’m sorry, I just lost control of the power, I would never let it hurt you,” Blue tells him in one breath, sitting down on the bus and then going silent again.

Chase chews on his mouth, staring at the silver floor of the bus. Yeah, he was scared. He closes his eyes tight. He knows that heat, Blue’s heat, Blue’s flame. It was somehow different from the hot California sun. He remembers feeling it crackle against his skin, making his hair stand up, making the forest floor stink of smoking plant matter and, when Blue got really angry, smoking flesh. He can see his brother plunging the knife into Anti’s chest. Anti is screaming. Blood and ink splurt across the dirt. He smells copper and flame.

He presses his face into Blue’s shoulder and just hides. He squeezes his palm. I love you. I love you.

Anonymous asked:

Chase, it'll be okay, don't worry horribly. You're already doing good thing with small reminders you love him and being patient with him. Your fear is understandable in the face of anger given who your abuser was, but you braved through it like you always do, fighter. Blue needs lots of help right now, the problem is getting him to tell you all what help he needs.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today,” says Chase. If he won’t tell him what help he needs, he can at least try to look after him. Try not to worry. “We could go for a walk. Have a day off. I want to bake a cake or cookies or something, we could - ”

“I’m fine, amata,” says Blue lowly.

Long silence. The rushing by of the city.

“Would you even be taking the antidepressants if I wasn’t around?” Chase asks miserably.

The bus pulls to a stop outside the library. Blue gets to his feet, turning his back to him.

“If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t have anything worth taking antidepressants for.”

Anonymous asked:

For Blue: It's okay to mourn the person you could have been. It's okay to be angry or resentful at that lost chance. It's okay to be sad about it too. But i, and your brothers, want you to know that there are so many parts of you, the you that exists right now, that are beautiful and lovely and meaningful. Just because your past is lost doesn't mean your future has to be too. You deserve to heal and work through this raging fire in you until it's protective, comforting fire again. We all believe in you.

He’s just… lost all control.

He’s lost control of himself, lost control of his relationships, lost control of his magic. It’s so much easier to lash out than to admit just how… lost he is.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He really doesn’t.

Stepping into the library, he settles in behind the front desk, accepts a re-shelving assignment from his boss, and gets to work. At least this is something he can do right - book here, book here, mark the date. But it’s so meaningless. He doesn’t know how Jackie gets satisfaction out of just pushing buttons and monitoring the audio.

This isn’t what he was meant to do.

He can sense it, the same way he can sense that this person - this person he’s acting like, this person he’s become - it isn’t who he’s meant to be either.

He doesn’t know how to get that person back.

Maybe he could try changing his jewelry or his shoes or his hair. But it’s so scary to think that maybe, even if he tries everything he possibly can…

The person in the mirror will still not be him.

He re-shelves C.S. Lewis and wipes quietly at his eyes behind the bookshelves.

Chase is chatting to someone on the other side of the library, and it takes Blue a minute to realize that JJ has brought Henrik from home. That’s right, they were going to hang out here today. At least they’re close. His little brothers. He has to keep an eye on them. He has to make sure they’re okay. Even if he only seems to be able to be a jerk around them.

The sound of their voices is the only solace he has. He takes a shuddering breath and gets back to work.

He doesn’t know if he can heal from this. But if it would help them… well, he’ll try.

Anonymous asked:

Blue are there any mirrors in the library? There could be a mirror portal somewhere within that you just don't know the password for?

“I’ve thought about that,” Blue agrees. “I think it’s likely, even. There’s mirrors in the bathrooms and one upstairs in the kids’ section. But I have no idea how to open them even if I knew which one it was. It’s just this feeling that something is here. I wish I knew. I almost feel like I - like I should know.”

But it’s just one more patch of fog in his blank brain. He scowls and tries to stop thinking about it. He wishes he had any past at all to ground himself in.

This is when he notices a head pop over the bookcase he’s shelving.

“Are we talking about magic?” asks JJ cheerily. “I’ll help you look.”

Blue sighs, a little endeared despite himself. “I guess. But how are we going to find the password even if we know the mirror?”

“C'mon, we could at least check things out.”

It feels as hopeless as everything else. Blue mumbles excuses, putting books into their places.

scunneredzombie asked:

You should go with Jamie, have a look around with someone else who has magic understanding! It might be helpful if you teamed up with someone else, Blue.

Blue glances up at JJ, who smiles back at him. Fuck’s sake, he’s a forgiving little man. Blue hopes that’s who he is and not just an abuse response.

“Okay, babe, fine. Lead the way.”

“To the bathroom!”

“What, how are we going to check both?”

“You work here. Just say you’re cleaning it.”

“I’m not a janitor.”

“But I bet you know where the ‘closed for cleaning’ signs are.”

Little shit. Blue rolls his eyes and grins frailly back at him, getting to his feet.

“Come on, then.”

Anonymous asked:

Do either of you know any old Irish sayings/idioms/song verses/poetry? You can use those to take guesses at the mirror password if you think it'd work!

“I’m sure Blue knows plenty of nerdy old poetry,” says JJ.

Blue flicks his ear. “Too much to know what would work. And I think it might be a little suspicious if I just stood around chanting poetry and Irish sayings in the bathroom.”

“It’s not any of these anyway,” says JJ, pushing out the door. “Or the one upstairs. No portals.”

“How do you know?”

“I could feel it if it were.”

“I can’t tell any difference between any of them,” says Blue, frowning.

“With all love, Blue, I’m a little more powerful. But you’re probably just not sensing anything because there’s nothing there to sense. I’m not even sure it’s in this building. Just… near.”

Blue crosses his arms over his chest, annoyed. “I can tell it’s here, alright? I know it is.”

“I’m not doubting you,” says JJ. “I agree there’s something close.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s mirrors just standing in the middle of the field where they have the farmer’s market. It’s just grass and that fountain out there.”

JJ shrugs, moving to the window of the library. There’s the field with the fountain pouring down a straight sheet of water, the bus stop, and beyond it, more buildings and streets. It’s a pretty little library in the center of town, old enough to have stood for years and years.

scunneredzombie asked:

Can mirror dimensions be made by using the reflections in water? If the fountain has water come down in straight sheets or has anything particularly glimmery, that might be a place to check!

There’s a pause between the two of them.

And then they’re pushing each other out of the way to race back out the door, darting out to the fountain in the field.

“It’s big enough to walk through.”

“You can see your reflection in it no problem.”

“It goes all day and all night and over the winter I bet the pool at the bottom freezes over and sits.”

They exchange looks. JJ picks up Blue’s hand and sticks it into the stream, his own fingers wrapped around his wrist.

And Blue still doesn’t sense the stronger magic here, and he does not magically remember a password, and he certainly does not pass through the stream to another world, and yet -

There is a faint memory right here.

And he knows he’s stood in this exact spot, and made his way through the water.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I think this is the place.”

At the top of the fountain, carved in stone, a lapwing bird.

Anonymous asked:

Welcome home again, Magnificent, you've found them!

“Sort of,” says Blue. “If I could actually get through it.”

“We could wait for someone to show up, maybe?”

“I guess I can keep an eye out from the library or something.”

Anonymous asked:

It's a long shot, but maybe try the "I love you, farewell" password that was used on the portal to your house back before Anti? I think it was something like "Te amo, valete". Just a thought!

The recognition of it draws a sudden and brilliant smile to Blue’s mouth and laughter comes bubbling out him, awed.

“Holy shit… that was our password.”

He glances at JJ, who smiles at him.

“We… we hid a mirror in the city, I think, and we… yeah, we had a password, I told Jackie he had to say he loved me before I’d let him leave… it was just a joke, but we say it damn near often enough anyway now, don’t we…”

“I miss that place,” signs JJ softly.

Fuck, but Blue would like to find it again. A home… a real home, just for them.

“Ammo,” he says. “Vale.”

He touches the water, but nothing changes. He blows out a breath. “Well, at least we know ours.”

Anonymous asked:

Are there any Irish poems about birds or lapwings you could try? Or maybe poems or quotes from books, since you're so near the library?

“That’s another next step, maybe,” agrees JJ. “There could be clues in the library. We could go back inside and look, if you’re not, like, remembering anything.”

Blue stares up at the fountain, wishing it could all come back to him. Not just magic but… everything. Like it would fill up some missing piece inside him. Lapwings… he doesn’t know anything about them except that they have to do with the magicians, and that he must have been attached enough to have one inked onto him. He thinks he knows some bird poems, though?

“Hope is the thing with feathers,” he offers softly, but nothing happens. But Dickinson wasn’t Irish anyhow. Maybe he could find some Irish poems or sayings or songs about birds.

scunneredzombie asked:

Yes, I knew it! You guys found it, good job! Now to go about finding the password... Any other memories surfacing, Blue?

“Yeah, that would be convenient,” sighs Blue. “A good old flashback and then we can hop right over to Hogwarts.”

He touches the water again, sighing at the coolness. “A password, huh? Wait, we had a mirror dimension for the five of us. How did you get in and out?”

“You made it work for me,” answers JJ gently. “Doesn’t have to be spoken aloud.”

“What did we do instead? A sign?”

“Yeah, a sign.”

“So it could be any words or any hand motion or anything,” grumbles Blue.

“Or even images. I’ve heard it can be images.”

“Great. Narrows it down.”

“Might be easier to meet some magicians.”

“Well, they won’t show themselves, will they? I’ve been using magic to make roses for weeks now. They don’t seem to have even noticed.”

“You could do something really grand.”

“Yeah, and then they could come try and take us away like you said those British magicians did.” He pulls away from the water, dejected. “They could be just as bad as the British ones. And they told you the Irish magicians had stopped answering them anyway, right? That they’re probably gone? That’s probably it.”

It’s bitter and painful in his chest and he doesn’t even know why.

“The Irish magicians are gone. Even if we could get through, there would be nothing to find.”

“You don’t know that.”

He gives JJ a dark look, feeling himself sinking back down into the mud he’s been stuck in.

“What, you’re hopeful now? Not drowning in your own despair anymore? Guess once the moment of need is over you’re finally ready to poke your head out of your shell and try things for once.”

JJ’s face flashes with anger, and he lifts his hands to shoot back a reply, and then -

Something scared in his face.

He wraps his arms around himself, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion, his mouth going taut, slightly open, slightly unsure -

“Honey,” says Blue, suddenly unnerved.

JJ stares at the world around him, eyes huge, blinking at the sun and the grass.

“Outside,” he signs weakly. “Outside, I’m not - I’m not allowed, I’m supposed to be - ”

Blue grabs his shoulders, trying to steady him. “Dap, stay with me. Hey. You’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I’m in trouble.” His air is coming faster now, his eyes fixed dangerously on the sun. Blue grabs his chin to pull his gaze away before he blinds himself. “My room. Hurts me, throws me down the stairs. Brat.”

JJ grabs his throat, coughing and pulling at his neck like there’s something wrapped around it, shaking his head.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Blue swears rapidly at himself and wraps an arm firmly around JJ’s shoulders, pulling him hurriedly back towards the library. “I’m sorry, I’m here. I didn’t need to say that, I just… I didn’t need to say that. Come on, we’re okay.”

Anonymous asked:

Jameson, are you okay?? What triggered you, love? You're not a brat, and you're free now, free to leave the room whenever you want. Anti is dead. You're not a prisoner anymore.

“Yeah, you’re good, you’re good,” murmurs Blue, tugging him into the doors of the library and pulling him behind the desk, just grateful that his coworker is upstairs. For all that he gets after him, he knows exactly what JJ wants to do right now - squeeze into a tight space and hide. Which is exactly what he does, hunkering down beneath the computer desk and curling up like a hedgehog, panting.

“Blue? What’s going on?”

“Chase, he just - we went outside and I kind of said something that maybe - but I think it was mostly just being outside, you know, just the sun and everything, I just gave him a little sass for not helping with Anti and - he just - ”

Horrified, Chase races around the desk and falls to his knees beside his brother. “JJ. You’re okay! Fuck, Blue, you two were outside for ten minutes and this - ”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“What did you say?”

“Just that he didn’t used to try and do stuff, you know, that he would just sit in his room all hopeless.”

“You’re unbelievable,” snaps Chase. He leans closer to wrap himself around JJ, hugging him close.

Blue rears back, pierced. What, Chase is mad? Chase is never mad. Defensive, sure, or scared, or tired, yes, but not mad. That isn’t something that happens.

“Amata, he has a million and one triggers. I was a little short with him, but he just has trouble being outside. You’re just going to pick him over - ”

“Just get out of here, Blue! JJ, can you talk to me? What was it, Jay, what was it? I swear, you and Jackie act like you’re the only ones who are big brothers sometimes! Well, I got people I’m supposed to protect too. And you’re being an ass.”

Blue stares at him, mouth open. Chase doesn’t talk to him like this.

“I’m taking him and Henrik away the second he’s calm,” says Chase, ignoring his gaze, his mouth set stubbornly even though his voice shakes and stammers more than usual, his eyes pricked with tears. “I love you so much but you just keep - you just keep - ugh! If you’re going to treat us this way then maybe you should just leave us alone!”

Blue…

Blue can’t even answer.

He turns away, then turns back. Turns away, turns back.

“You guys were going to hang out here with me today,” he offers lamely.

Where he can hear them. Where he can watch over them.

“We’re going away,” repeats Chase quietly.

He closes his eyes and wraps himself tighter around Jameson, their heads pressed together.

Anonymous asked:

Blue I know you don't want any positive praise or encouragement thrown your way. Maybe you only know the reason but maybe you've just wrapped yourself in cynicism so tightly that you have to push everything out to an arms distance, so you either sit and stew in your own negative emotions, or when you do open up, all that bitterness seeps out and you've proven your cynicism right when things boil over. The world is screwed up, and it's hard to admit that you're screwed up too. It's even harder when you feel like you're asking the same screwed up world for help of all things, but your pride and your cynicism aren't the same thing. You need your pride restored, you need your cynical self dialed back. I hope therapy helps you. I hope the antidepressants don't cause you any grief. I hope YOU believe you can dare to hope again.

Our well-wishes may seem sappy and overly sentimental, but they come from a place of sincerity. The fact is, we don't know how else to help you. We're lost. You're lost. We're all getting redirected in circles but you're going to find a path for yourself. And we'll still be along with you the whole way through.

Blue sits down numbly in one of the big green reading chairs by the window upstairs.

He reads from the corner of his eyes, trying to ignore you, his tongue wetting his mouth. He pulls on his hair and hunches over himself, feeling sick to his stomach again. All the time. It’s his anxiety. Hurts his tummy.

Now he’s made Chase mad.

Chase - Chase wrapped around JJ - picking JJ - wrapped around JJ’s little finger just like Anti was - lying in bed and the two of them are looking at each other, helpless - he feels his arms wrap around JJ and he knows from the way he squirms that he does not like it, but all Anti does is laugh, and Blue can’t do anything about it, can’t make it stop -

He shudders. Cynicism. That’s what it is. He’s lost some ability he used to have. He doesn’t know how to get it back. All that’s left are scars.

A hand on his own pulls him back from his head again. Blue looks up quickly. Maybe Chase came to find him and apologize. To be his cozy little amata again.

But it’s not Chase.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” rasps Blue, swallowing as he tries to put his front of calm back up. “You okay?”

Henrik gazes at him, head tilting slightly. He reaches up and cups Blue’s face. Blue laughs weakly and reaches down to hold the back of his head in return, stroking his fingers through his hair.

“What, are you worried?”

Henrik blinks at him, fingers playing against Blue’s palm.

“Can I have a kiss, then, if you’re worried?” asks Blue boldly, pinching his ear.

Henrik’s mouth thins, his eyes soft.

And then he lifts up and gives Blue a kiss on the side of his temple, scratching his beard for a second. He gets up and turns, and before Blue can say anything, Chase is appearing on the top of the stairs, pale but calm again.

“We’re going to go now,” he says quietly. “JJ just blanked out for a second. He’s fine.”

Blue looks away, sulking. Whatever. Of course he’s fine. What a baby. And now Chase is all on his side. Right away even. Fine, whatever.

“Your shift’s done at six?”

“Yes,” he says shortly.

Chase nods, shifting on his feet, and reaches out for Henrik, who turns to go with him.

“Take the camera with you,” says Blue, pushing your camcorder towards him. “I don’t fucking need it.”

Chase stares at him for a second, mouth pursed. Then he takes the camcorder. He’s pretty sure Jackie hid an emergency GoPro in Blue’s book bag anyway, but it hardly matters.

“Bye,” he says. “Love you.”

Blue glares out the window, simmering. Chase sees leaves budding from inside his clutched fists.

Chase turns unhappily to walk away.

“Love you too,” you hear Blue whisper, and then he’s out of your sight and your hearing.

Stewing in his own negativity, closed off and alone.

Anonymous asked:

Blue, escaping the life with Anti was never going to be a clean ending. I wish you guys could have had a clean slate to build your new lives off of, or at least revert to how things were before, but the fact is, life's not like that. It doesn't matter that you don't want to hear that change takes time, or that you need professional help, or that you can't take care of your family while neglecting yourself: all those things are true.

You can either dig your heels into the ground and insist on drowning in your own self-hatred, or you can admit that you're scared, and accept some help to leave some of that behind you, even if it's just a little. You don't have to pretend to be Marvin, you don't have to continue as Blue. But you need to let go of some of the stubbornness of each identity to move on and become whoever you feel that you are or who you can be.

Whatever the case, we can't force your decision but at least THINK on what we're saying before blindly rejecting it. We care about you, even if you sometimes don't.

It was never going to be clean.

Chase cries in the pews of the Jewish building - he doesn’t know if it’s a synagogue or a temple or just a communal place - where he’s wanted to take Henrik for weeks now. He didn’t plan to be crying when he imagined it, of course. But it was never going to be clean.

It was always going to be Jackie’s screaming in the middle of the night and an ugly burn on Chase’s hand. It was always going to be JJ talking to a monster who is no longer there and a blank stare in Henrik’s face. It was always going to be Blue’s fury and a bottle of antidepressants.

“I wish he had taken Dok and run like he said he would,” he sobs into JJ’s shirt. “That first night he tried to run. In Norway. We were in Norway? I just remember him trying to take Dok and go. I wish he had escaped that night. Then the two of them would still be okay. Not like this. Not like this, this isn’t right, it’s not how it’s supposed to be. At least they could have gotten away. But he stayed for us, I remember, I remember that much. The beach… we were on the beach… I don’t know how long ago. Just not like this.”

He’s the only sound in the whole of the little building. It’s not the most impressive religious building Chase has ever seen. There’s an open area with some fold-up metal chairs and plastic tables and a rickety old piano, and then a partition before the area with the pews and the set-up in the front. The sign on the door says the building is open to visitors but warns that there are always cameras watching, and services are Saturday at six with a community dinner afterwards, thank you very much. It smells like styrofoam and Pinesol. JJ holds Chase in the pews, hugging him wearily. Henrik stands in the corner of the building, tracing his fingers over a glass box holding a huge scroll inside.

“Blue just needs some time,” offers JJ, trying to pull away enough to sign clearly, though Chase refuses to let him go. “Henrik too.”

“He’s so unhappy,” cries Chase. “I hate it, I hate this.”

It was never going to be clean. It was always going to be ugly as fuck and messy and miserable.

Fuck, even if they were still with Anti, things would be even worse.

“He was going to cut my voicebox out,” weeps Chase, stammering so hard he’s not sure JJ can understand him. “Didn’t he say that? He kept touching my throat. Said I didn’t need it cause we can all sign. I didn’t need to talk to anybody but you and him. We were going to be pets. He would have killed the others. It took me too long. It took me so long. If I had fought sooner, they wouldn’t be like this. Still messed up, yeah, but not this much. Not this bad. I should have fought for all of you sooner.”

He lets it come pouring out. The ugliness. If Blue won’t express it, he will.

It was never, never, never going to be anything other than this. Because “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is bullshit and all Anti did was hurt them. Now they have to come clawing their way back out of the traps he laid in their heads. Maybe they’ll be a little stronger, in some ways, but they’ll also be scarred up and vigilant. It’s traumatic in the same way grief is - it never really stops hurting. You just learn to deal with it better. Every day, if you can, you learn to deal with it better. But some days you just go falling back into the abyss, and you have to start climbing again.

He kisses JJ’s head fervently, one time, two times, again, because he needs to, because he loves him, because he’s sorry. JJ lets him. He smooths tears from his face and just holds him, for a long time.

Someone’s playing Clair de Lune in the other room. Chase covers his mouth, realizing he’s been too loud. Maybe they won’t judge. Not in a place like this.

Long, deep breaths. Long, deep gasps for air. He starts to calm down again. Jamie smells different than he used to. Different than Dapper, who usually smelled like chalk and old mattresses and copper. JJ smells like green apple detergent and coconut shampoo.

“Sorry,” mumbles Chase, realizing he’s gotten snot all over his new shirt, and JJ just shakes his head and presses their cheeks together, rubbing on him like a cat for a second.

“Do you think he’s thinking about it?” asks Chase, sniffling. “About whether he’s going to get some help or not? About if he’s going to be able to get past this?”

JJ nods. Chase nods back, headachey from his crying, and squeezes JJ’s ribs.

“Don’t know how to make it better,” he confesses weakly.

JJ draws away to sign, wiping more of his brother’s tears away as he goes. “It’s not your job to make it better,” he says. “If there’s anything you can do for him, he needs to let you know. But it’s not your job to keep anyone happy. Not anymore. Just you. Just work on making you happy.”

“But I want you all to be happy.”

Jameson grins and draws him back into a hug.

“Together. We’ll work on it together. It won’t be pretty… won’t be clean. But we keep working on it.”

Anonymous asked:

It's not your fault Chase. Don't put the weight of it all on your own shoulders, you'll tear yourself apart. You need to be focused on your own and Henrik's healing most of all right now. Blue is going through a lot, but it's completely reasonable to want to have space from him with how cruel and snappy he's being lately. It's not your job to fix everything. There are a lot of things for all of you to deal with individually, and you mustn't let one of you take on all the responsibility.

“You got too used to it,” signs JJ.

“To what?”

“Trying to make him happy.” JJ looks down at his hands. “Once he got sick of me. You would try to cheer him up or distract him so he wouldn’t come after the rest of us.”

“Did I?” He wipes at his face. “I don’t remember.”

“You were always trying to keep us all safe.” JJ leans against him, looking up at the ark. “We all tried to look out for each other when we could. But now… well, nobody’s being tortured, Chase. Nobody’s dying. We can prioritize ourselves instead of spending all our time worried about one of us being in literal imminent danger.”

“What if he is in danger?” asks Chase miserably. “With himself.”

“Then he needs to start expressing that so we can help,” JJ answers. “In the meantime, we have to look after ourselves, and if we get extra time or energy we’ll try to help each other. And all of us can help look after Henrik until he’s a little more… conscious.”

“He’s my responsibility,” protests Chase.

“We can all help, Chase. Even with him, you can take a break if you need one. We can all look after him. Which, uh, does beg the question… where did he go?”

Chase turns around. His brother is no longer standing by the Torah.

“Shit!”

Anonymous asked:

Uh oh, Doktor on the run! Maybe he went to where the music was coming from?

Chase scrambles to his feet and hurries back to the community area of the building, almost tripping over his feet as he goes. Shit, then he’s probably encountered the person playing the piano, and they’ve probably tried to engage with him, and he’s probably just stared at them, and then they could be mean to him, or think he’s an intruder, or yell at him, or -

But there’s just one person in the room.

Chase stills in the doorway of the partition, staring.

Henrik plays Clair de Lune perfectly, relaxed on the stool of the piano, his fingers drifting easily across the keys.

Anonymous asked:

Woah, Henrik knows piano? Even after so long without playing he can do it perfectly, that's amazing.

“Yeah,” says Chase frailly. “He, uh. He’s a genius. Always was. Even Anti would say that. But I didn’t know he played. I guess I forgot.”

Soft laughter from the piano. Henrik’s laughter.

Chase is frozen, staring at him. Henrik glances back at him and Jameson. His mouth smiles. His eyes are clear.

“Come here,” he signs with a free hand, beckoning. “Come over here.”

Anonymous asked:

Wh- Is Henrik back??! ;0;

Chase steps up to him, letting his hand come down on his shoulder, grounding himself there at his brother’s back. Henrik plays with one hand and reaches up to pull him to sit beside him with the other. He takes Chase’s hands and positions them on the piano.

“Do you remember the scales we were working on?” he asks.

He says it like it’s so normal that it makes Chase jolt on the stool. His voice… his voice like nothing has changed.

“Dok,” he whispers.

“Show me, then, come,” says Henrik, tapping his fingers on top of Chase’s.

“No, I… I don’t remember. Did we used to play?”

“You do not practice while I am at work! You will never learn.”

He’s teasing him. He’s playful.

“Dok, look at me,” begs Chase, pulling his gaze.

And he does. He just - he does. He looks at him.

“What?” asks Henrik, and then, when Chase does not answer: “Something is the matter?”

“Dok, do you know what’s going on? Do you know where we are?”

“Yes?” Henrik’s staring at him like he’s the crazy one. “Yes, home, in the living room. Are you alright? You have not been drinking?”

The warm sun is coming through the window of their house - Henrik can feel it on his face. It’s fall and the leaves of the trees are orange in the forest outside. Queenie leaps up onto the back of the piano and mewls at him.

“Bad girl, get down,” he scolds. “Jamie, are you making coffee? Will you get me a cup?”

Jameson comes up behind him and gives him a hug around his shoulders. Unexpected, but he does not mind. He is new to their family but he already fits right in.

He’s safe and things are good. He breathes out a low, satisfied hum. All is well in the world.

Anonymous asked:

Oh, uh.... Chase, JJ, do you guys know whether you should go along with him or try to bring him to the present time? He seems alright at least

“This could be him waking up,” says Chase, reaching out to cup Henrik’s face. “Dok, Henrik, it’s me, it’s Trick. Chase. We’re in Ireland. We got away from Anti, we’re safe! You can come back to me.”

“Chase,” JJ interrupts. “He’s not in any distress. Why don’t we just take it easy and see if he’ll come back to himself gently? This means he feels safe. It’s a good first step.”

“I want to talk to him.” Chase squeezes Henrik’s hand, pulling him away from the piano. “Deutsch, it’s me. He’s gone.”

“What is happening?” asks Henrik, eyes darkening. “Why are you talking like this? What’s wrong?”

scunneredzombie asked:

Chase, remember after his shutdowns sometimes Henrik would think he was existing back before Anti or he would forget where he was/who he was? This might be a more extreme version of that. Let him come around slowly.

Chase glances at the camera, his mouth tightening, but he gives a small nod, blinking. He looks back at Henrik and Henrik stares at him, obviously confused. Henrik glances around the room, seeming to take in the brick walls and the camera in Chase’s bag for the first time, and Chase sees his eyes start to glaze -

“Schneep,” he says quickly, taking his hand. “Show me how to do the scales again. I’m paying attention now.”

Henrik looks at the piano and settles down again, shooting Chase a look. “You never learn,” he teases. “Okay, set your fingers here…”

Chase lets his brother arrange his fingers. He wishes Henrik were all the way here, yes. But he thinks you’re probably right, and he just needs to be patient, and be glad to have this part of him.

Talking! He’s talking! His heart lifts and he smiles as Henrik starts showing him how to play the scale, chattering at him while Jameson stands beside them, watching along.

“How often do you play, Henrik?”

“You know I’m out here often,” he murmurs back, his free hand beginning a melody on the right side of the piano. “Even at night, after a long shift. But I try to be quiet then. Of course sometimes my more nocturnal brothers join me.”

He clucks JJ’s chin, pinching his beard.

“Are you happy?” asks Chase wistfully.

Henrik grins at him oddly. “What’s gotten into you? Things are good, my friend. What is happiness if not peace and a place in the world where you are loved.”

Beethoven down the keys of the piano, easy and affectionate.

Anonymous asked:

Henrik, how often do you play? Do you know Hava Nagila??

“Oh, boy, how Jewish am I?” snickers Henrik. “Hava Nagila, hava…”

He plays the first few lines and breaks down laughing, shaking his head. “What, I’m Jewish so I know Hava Nagila? Okay, yes, fine, I do. But I know everything. Because I’m smarter than everyone. Checkmate.”

Anonymous asked:

Hava Nagila is just my favourtie old tune haha! Of course you knew it though, no one is smarter then Henrik von Schneeplestein

“Yes, that’s true. You are not only correct but you also have good taste in music.”

Anonymous asked:

Is Henrik... back? Has he woken up? It seems at least part of him has!

Watching Henrik switch through a variety of songs - mostly at JJ’s request, Chase feels a little bit better. Here’s a part of him. Here’s… him, just a little lost. And aren’t they all?

Chase has been thinking more about Dok than Henrik for a long time now. But Henrik isn’t so different than his Dok that it makes any difference, it seems. Henrik is just a more egotistical, less scared, happier Dok. Chase snickers as Henrik melds two songs together within five seconds of JJ’s request and then congratulates his own intelligence. Isn’t this what he’s supposed to be like? Isn’t this what safety looks like on him?

He doesn’t mind. If Henrik is a little confused, he doesn’t mind.

It’s still him.

Anonymous asked:

Anti always said that you were just a more anxious Chase and he was just a quieter Henrik... Maybe you guys didn't change so much after all, hm.

Chase tentatively plays along as Henrik shows him Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. “Maybe we didn’t. Are we good friends, Henrik?”

“Course we are. Who else help you look after the children and pick you up from the party when you are dumb enough to go somewhere there is probably beer? And then you must cook me cheesecake as payment, is only fair.”

“Ah, is that what you like?”

“It’s what I demand.”

Chase laughs. He wonders how Blue and Red and Dapper can seem so different to who they used to be while Henrik doesn’t feel so different from Dok at all. Maybe they just… had each other to hold onto for longer. Someone who always knew that secret name - that secret person they used to be. They never had to be alone.

Chase and Henrik play a timid lullaby, laughing over the keys of the piano.

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any memories of where you are, Schneep..? Would you still feel okay if we told you you're not at home?

“Of where I am?”

Queenie meows at him from the couch. He glances over, but she isn’t there. The house is cool for a moment, and then growing warmer.

Henrik blinks. Looks around.

Something not quite right.

A smell of smoke in the air.

Where’s your hero now? Where’s Jack to save you and your little time traveler now? I’ll burn everything you love to the fucking ground. Just try to run, I’ll find you anywhere. I’ll stalk you til you collapse at my feet.

Henrik stares. A fire has caught along the edges of the door of their home. Outside, the trees are burning.

Chase grabs his shoulders, speaking to him, though Henrik cannot make out the words. He lays his head down on Chase’s shoulder almost on instinct, staring as everything around him begins to change. He hears the cat scream. His head hurts.

“Oh,” he murmurs, as Chase’s hand rises to touch his cheek. “Oh, who did this to you? Why did you not call me?”

He examines Chase’s hand. There is a marred, puckered section of skin, burned badly, maybe down to the bone. Henrik feels sorrow and then fear. He can hear Chase crying. He closes his eyes. He needs to hide. He needs to - needs to go away, needs to - survive this somehow, survive this somehow…

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you,” a dark voice growls. “We’re done. You’re useless to me. And that means I’m finally going to slaughter one of you little fucking bastards like I should have done a long time ago.”

“Anti - Anti, n-no more, no more… I want my brothers, I want…”

“No cameras, Dok, no siblings, and no more fucking pretending. I’ll show you just how much of a monster I really am. Just you, me, and a length of barbed wire. I’ve heard that Jews believe you die twice - once when your body gives out and one when everyone forgets you. I’ll be the one who kills you both times, Henrik.”

A line of wire clatters across the floor.

“That’s a promise.”

scunneredzombie asked:

Henrik, stay calm. Anti is dead. Anti is dead and you're free. You have a home with all of your brothers again, an apartment where you all live safely. You have Noodle and Chase and all your siblings who love you and regret not being there to protect you. You are safe and loved still, even if you aren't in the mirror portal you remember.

Henrik doesn’t shake or cry out as his memories swallow him up.

“Dok,” calls Chase, holding his shoulders tight. “Look at me, stay with me. You’re okay. I promise. We been looking after you. It’s okay now. It’s okay.”

His head just sinks down until his chin hits his chest, his eyes sliding shut and his posture curling, like he can hide himself from everything in the world. Chase tries to be gentle with him, tries to ground him at the same time. Soft hands on him. Murmuring to him. Trying not to let him know he’s scared.

After a while, Henrik’s breathing steadies out again. Chase soothes his finger across his chin, trying to draw his gaze, and Schneep looks up at him with big, sorrowful eyes.

Chase sighs and lays his head down on his twin’s shoulder. JJ pecks at the keys of the piano, and after another minute, Henrik takes an interest. He puts a hand out and plays a shy scale, sniffling a little and sitting up, calm again, but silent.

Anonymous asked:

"And just as there is wonder in / every new life created / there is sadness and regret / for the unsaid and unfeted / Just listen for the music / that your ears cannot hear / just strain yourself for the melody / that's so far and yet so near"

Henrik goes back to Clair de Lune, slower now, sweeter.

JJ and Chase sit in silence beside him. When he’s finished, Chase rubs his back until he glances over at him.

“That’s okay, man,” says Chase quietly. “You can just hide a while longer if you need to.”

Henrik gazes at him.

“Ready to go?” Chase asks his brothers, trying not to be sad.

JJ nods. “Maybe if he wakes up in the apartment, he’ll feel safer there. With the cat and your bed and everything.”

“And I can bring him back for services sometime.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be okay?”

“Yeah. It’ll all be okay.”

“Okay. Come on.”

immabethehero asked:

You did it! You’re out the woods, I’m so proud of you guys! You deserve to relax and enjoy your peaceful lives.

JJ laughs quietly, watching Chase talk to Henrik quietly on the bus, the pair of them pressed close together.

“Out of the woods… well, the trees get thinner every day, at least. Yes. Let’s go home and relax a little.”

[scripted-downfall]

Hello! I am the rambling anon, bc I'm an Anon who loves to ramble about everything and nothing all at once.

Allow me to make a comment on Jpeg's acting please (even tho there have been countless).

I've always loved acting and the art of it, I still do, and I've never done professional acting, only theater acting as well (theater kids 4 lyfe!), and I'll admit, I'm can't really act. But Jesus Christ, there's times I watch Jared act (on SPN, I haven't ever really cared for Walker) and I cringe bc for fucks sake, even I can fucking do better than that. (or at least I hope and pray I could fucking do better) it's EMBARRASSING. It astonishes me how Jpeg stans say he's a good actor when Jensen just BLOWS him the fuck out of the fucking water. And it's sad that Jensen was always overlooked and was handed the shitty Bloody Valentine movie, while Jared was the golden child essential and got the Friday the 13th remake role. It's such bullshit.

You seriously mean to tell me that you couldn't find ANYONE else who could act Sam out than Jared? And do a better job? I doubt it.

And you're right, acting college major. Jared's acting in the early seasons was better, but that being said, not by a whole lot. It's just........ Sad.

Hello, rambling anon! Welcome! (Also, loving the theatre kid representation; it's always nice to find another :) )

I definitely agree with what you've said, at all points. I haven't had any on-film acting experience, and I don't consider myself a vicarious expert in assessing acting skill, but I'm not a complete novice either; I did speech back in high school, and I've done a decent amount of theatre acting in my day, too. So, expert? Nah. Complete amateur? Also no.

But it takes very little experience to see that Jared is just... bad? Like, to the point that I don't understand why anyone thinks he's a good actor, much less a good enough actor to stan as violently as his do. (Also, they don't seem to realize that they're actually making it less likely that I like jpeg? Like, I didn't feel half so strongly about being anti-Jared until they launched a whole-ass campaign against me, and now I'm deeply anti.) And it truly is, as you say, embarrassing to watch. I was watching s12 of Supernatural with some folks and I was sitting there, watching Jared, and cringing the entire time, praying they wouldn't judge every element of the show by Jared's standard.

I kind of understand why people say the whole "you don't need to raise up your fave by tearing down another person's" idea, but also... that statement doesn't take into account how much worse Jared looks through the juxtaposition of good acting and bad. Jared is bad already --- Cry_Wolf, Friday the 13th, House of Wax --- but he's not anywhere close to the worst actor in those, so it's less noticeable. He's about 15x more painful to watch in SPN because he's so close to good acting and falling short.

I definitely feel like there are a great many people who could have played Sam better. I just... the list is great.

Thank you for the ask, and welcome to the blog :) I hope you'll reach out again as things spring to mind; I might be slow to answer at times, but I always appreciate hearing from folks! Be well!

[liminalpebble]

The Refugee: Chapter 2

Masterlist link

“Rude! Shockingly rude!” said Loki, feigning offense with a hand to his chest and wide eyes.

Bea rolled hers. “Come on! The same disguise every time? What a lack of creativity from the god of cunning! So, are you here to make me relocate yet again with your obnoxious conquests? I heard your armies are gathering again, gaining territory.”

He looked at her with a bit of pride in his eyes.“You know me so well Beatrice, after all these years...and I like you. That's why you always get these little warnings before all hell breaks lose.”

Bea sighed, “It'd be nicer if it didn't mean I have to close up shop every now and then and pick up in another village. You just help me beat the crowd.”

“Come on, Bea! It can't be that hard to find business when you deal in the world's oldest profession. It has staying power for a reason. And besides, think of all the travelers, refugees, soldiers. You'll have loads of business right here if you weather the storm this time. I did give you a century of utter peace once.”

“Do I have your promise of protection for this establishment this time? If the raids come down, promise me this place and my girls are safe.”

“Of course they'll be safe. Anyone can be safe as long as they kneel to the Laufeyson Empire. It's all that useless fighting back that makes it messier, and needlessly so. I'd always rather assimilate a culture than destroy it. It's a horrible shame to waste art, culture, knowledge, civilization.”

Bea stared at him with suspicion and a little resentment, paused and then nodded in Lea's direction.

“You destroyed her civilization. Did you know that? This, here, is the second time she's had to rebuild her life because of your ambitions. I'm determined to make it so that nice girl never has to run again.”

He looked at Lea a moment studying the distinct cultural markings on her earrings and necklace. “How touching,” he said, in a monotone which indicated it didn't touch him remotely. “She's Morhari? She's far from home.”

Bea nodded. “Don't see many of them anymore, do ya? Wonder why that is?”

Loki rolled his eyes. Behind the playful exaggeration of boredom, was the actual hidden resentment of a bruised ego. “I told you Bea. Peace has always been available to those nations who submit. The Morhari fought back...hard. It was actually admirable, but terribly foolish...all that history gone.”

“Doesn't surprise me. She seems shy and sweet but she's a fighter, too. In her own way. Smart as a whip too.”

It was Loki's turn to be unsurprised. The Morhari have a reputation for remarkable intelligence, bolstered by the highest quality of education in the arts, sciences, and weaponry. Her jewelry was made of an odd violet metal, laced with gray and black veins. Her earrings and small pendant were given to citizens when they completed their decades of education, the marks and inscriptions unique to each graduate's achievements.

“Then why, for gods' sake, do you have her wiping tables, pouring pints, and presumably getting fondled by drunks, when she has a mind like that?”

“That's not all she does, you ass. And I don't let them touch her. I'm no fool. She helps me keep the books. She can translate anything, which is good in this trade. She works hard here and I've given her a roof over her head and fair pay.”

“And how much does she earn in the brothel? She doesn't seem the type to succeed at sex work.”

“Why?” Bea teased, “are you considering using those services for once? You never have before. Why are you asking after this one?”

Loki scoffed. “Beatrice, a king need not stoop to the crassness of paying for his pleasure. Simple curiosity...”

“Since when has your curiosity ever been simple.”

He couldn't help chuckling at her wit this time. She certainly had the jester's privilege; permission to spar and speak truth to him that few dared.

“She doesn't work in the brothel. God only knows how she made it through with her body unviolated, but she did. She fears it...has nightmares about it from her time fleeing. Poor thing. I could never ask that of her, and like you said, I couldn't see her having those skills. She's indispensable otherwise, though. Oh! And if you're here this evening you'll get to see her dance in the cabaret.”

He perked up at this, genuinely surprised. The Morhari were also known for their unique performance arts but he never had the pleasure of witnessing it.

“Huh. What a puzzle you are Beatrice! Running a brothel with a virginal scholar for a barmaid, and a warlord for a casual drinking buddy,” he said as Bea rounded behind the bar pouring two shots for them both.

“To odd friends, enemies, and bedfellows who are occasionally all those at once,” Bea pronounced.

“To that indeed,” he replied with his trickster's grin.

They toasted and downed their shots.

Notes:

Hello all 3's of you who are probably reading this. : ) This is my first fanfic and I'm incredibly nervous to post it, so please be polite and constructive in your critiques. I have many chapters already finished (or mostly finished, bar some perfectionistic tweaking and polishing) so I plan to post regularly if this goes over well. Also, be aware that I am playing very fast and loose with a lot of aspects of the original material and canon for the sake of the story, so please take it with a grain of salt.

P.S. I mention sex work and sex workers but I intend to so with respect and positivity towards their profession. I have tried to avoid any problematic words or descriptions, but please let me know if any exist and I will do my best to fix it.

On who I would cast for the major roles: Loki is obviously the Hiddleston Loki of the MCU. Magnus (original character) is very specifically Domhnall Gleeson in my mind. I imagine Queen Nadia (original character) as Lashana Lynch. Have yet to settle on casting for Lenora herself or Beatrice (OC).

CW: Non/dubious consent. slow burn to eventual smut. violence and torture. Loki is very unambiguously bad, morally complex but bad, and does bad things.

(Thanks for the love and encouragement @lokisgoodgirl @goblingirlsarah @lokisprettygirl 💛💚 feel free to share. )

[the-writers-bookshelf]

Happy Fab Friday weekend! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving Aubrey 🥰 As for me, I spent it editing a short story that I just published on my substack. “Raven Wings” is about a woman accused of witchcraft and how she saves herself from execution. It’s here for anyone who wants to read it:

https://theheartofstorytelling.substack.com/p/raven-wings

I’m going to publish a new one every month as part of a collection of folklore and fairy tale inspired stories featuring animals. I’m excited but also a little nervous too 😅 Do you have any advice on how to get more comfortable with sharing your work publicly?

Hey! So happy you jumped into the festivities! :)

CONGRATULATIONS on publishing your story!!!! I subscribed to your substack and I can't WAIT to read Raven Wings! It sounds like something I would grab off the shelf right away! I LOVE all things witchcraft!

And I think it's AWESOME that you're going to publish a new story every month! It's a fantastic goal and phenomenal for sharpening your skills! 😍

As for tips on sharing your work publicly, they're below the cut!

Practice

There will always be a little hiccup of anxiety because this is your art, your craft, your vision, and you're sharing it with the world! It's an incredibly brave and vulnerable act and it takes a lot of guts, every single time!

But after you've done it again and again, you become more comfortable with the anxiety. You will learn to recognize what's coming and you will learn how to get yourself through it so it doesn't seem quite so nerve-wracking.

It really does get a little easier each time you do it because eventually, you realize that no matter what the public says about your work, you're still gonna write and no one will stop you!

Manage expectations

Try to manage your expectations to a realistic level regarding the feedback you may (or may not) receive when you share your work publicly.

If you receive no feedback at all, will it make you doubt yourself?

If you receive negative feedback, how will that make you feel about future projects?

By managing your expectations, you can keep yourself focusing on your writing, rather than devastated by the public's responses. And no matter what the public says, remember that even bestselling authors with LOADS of books under their belt get a mix of good and bad reviews!

Take whatever measures you need in order to cope

This will take time as you learn what you can, and cannot, juggle. Some people can read every comment they receive. Some people keep tabs on all the reviews for their books.

You might be tempted to do the same. But take note of how you respond to it.

If it leaves you exhausted, drained, and feeling defeated, step away from it.

Your priority is writing. If something slows you down and prevents you from writing - i.e. reading reviews/comments of your work - then do NOT feel pressured to do it.

For me, I like to post it and then go for a LONG walk so I'm not tempted to hit the "refresh" button for comments/reviews/messages over and over! 🤣

Depersonalize if you can

This is the hardest part because your project is your BABY and you really want to do well, of course!

But once it's released into the wild, you've done everything you possibly could. Some people will love it. Some people will hate it. Even if you think it's the BEST writing you've ever created, it might still bomb for whatever reason that has literally nothing do with your quality of writing.

For the sake of your sanity, try to give yourself a little distance to protect yourself and your future projects.

For me, it really helped to adopt a "release and forget it" mentality. So I rarely - if ever - check reviews or comments. I don't look at how my writing is received because otherwise I get tripped up. When I finish one project, I move onto the next so I don't get stuck on what I could have done differently.

You still absolutely should be proud of your work, no matter what! But once it's in the hands of the public, just guard your heart a little bit.

You will more than likely experience self-doubt worse than ever before

Even if your work is well-received by the public, there will be ONE negative comment that knocks your knees out from under you and makes you question everything.

It's gonna happen. Can't avoid it.

So you MUST fight to remember those positive comments. Save all of them. Remember them. Give your attention to them.

It's okay to wrestle with those self doubts. Just don't let them stop you!

Treat yourself

Give yourself a pat on the back when you share your work with the world because it's HARD and it's TOUGH and YOU DID IT!! Seriously, talk yourself up, tell yourself good things, tell yourself how proud you are that you took this step.

Putting your creative work in the public eye can be a roller-coaster of an experience. It can be utterly brutal one minute and euphoric the next. It's super, super important to manage the way you talk to yourself and cultivate a positive headspace.

Above all, it's okay to feel anxious, but no matter what, always stay focused on your writing and it will get you through!

I really hope all that rambling helped a little, lovely! 💜 Sending you big hugs for putting yourself out there and diving headfirst into your new goal!!

[entropieogchaos]

For some reason tumblr doesn't let me comment so I'm replying here ;

While I agree that ai art can have it's uses, at the rate it's growing (and the fact people make them from getting "inspiration" from artist who trained for years to be where they are) AI art will end up replacing artists in design fields. Why get an artist to design a logo or pattern for your new kombucha when you can just give a computer a prompt and get a similar result for free? Who will pay for someone to illustrate their books if this new robot can do it?

I can only give my opinion, and I'll try to give a solid reply that doesn't veer off-topic. Here goes...

Specifically regarding things like brand logos, I personally consider that to be more in the graphic design realm than the art-making realm. You might say apples and oranges, and that's fair. My point is the kinds of things AI can do well, seems like it will have most of its impact on things in graphic design world. Like you mentioned, being able to crank out a logo. But, I think graphic designers will still be getting plenty of work, because the business needs someone with the page design skill to do something with that logo. I don't see AI replacing a graphic designer's job doing the print layout for having a pamphlet or flyers made for a business. Yes, likely elements of the design will feature AI images - but that may well have been done by the graphic designer themself for the sake of saving time! This is the kind of future I see in graphic design world: humans still doing all the menial design and layout work using graphical elements made both by AI and by people. I see alot of parallels to using generic clip art for designs, and I think AI will begin to run into similar problems where the really good looking design styles will start looking very similar to each other, which could very well push a business to hire a person to design their logo, simply because they want something that looks more unique than what the AI can make.

And, again, this is just my opinion, but I personally think that the technology of digital illustration has taken alot of the originality and interestingness out of graphic design art already anyway. I'm pretty bored with seeing the same collection of flat pastel shapes pieced together in a way that looks "fun" and took the designer all of 5 minutes to churn out. I seriously think that vector graphics programs like Illustrator have done more to damage the "human touch" of graphics work than AI ever will, and it has set up this whole situation of samey-ness that makes it so easy for AI to mimic a typical style. I'm honestly hoping that the pressure of competing against AI will push artists and designers to be more original and clever, because I am certain that people are capable of rising above it and putting an AI image to shame, no matter how sophisticated it gets.

Thanks for your comment, i appreciate the opportunity to talk more about why I feel the way I do about this complex topic.