#except i'm working on a project so not entirely at peace

[pokedcheck]

it's cold. i'm wearing my leafs pj top and blue jays pj christmas bottoms. i'm at peace.

[meroif]

A Hundred Years of Sleep

Far, far away from home, you awake to a world changed. Everyone had their time to grief,  with the exception of you. Then I ask, what would you give to fix what is broken?

DEMO ; PATREON

A Hundred Years of Sleep is an interactive fiction novel taking place in a universe of magic and machinery. It aims to guide you through a journey through the stars, one that begins and ends with your very home.

The Story

You come from Vaeravel, a small and peaceful planet orbiting around an even smaller star in a corner of the universe. You live with your aunts in your quaint neighborhood until you're considered a young adult by the standards of your long-lived species.

Then without fanfare, everything ends.

The Collapse is a terrible accident that completely destroys your planet and most of its inhabitants. You manage to survive, taken to one of the few emergency vessels fleeing disaster, but slip away into a deep sleep.

You wake up again, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar galaxy, alone. Everywhere you look, life has gone on without you.

So when you hear rumors of a ship departing for what is now called The Collapsed you can't help but embark on the journey home, so that maybe by the end of it you'd be granted peace, or at least instructed on what to do with all your loss.

Features

Character customization. Choose name, pronouns, appearance, personality and ambitions of your character.

Moral compass. Be bad, play nice, decide how you want to interact with the world at large and see for yourself where your actions take you.

Romance. Meet and fall in love with four different characters, all gender selectable, or don't, if you prefer to the take the romanceless path.

Flirt options with various NPCs, with future extra side-stories to give them the space they deserve.

Multiple endings, good and bad, once you reach the end of your journey.

Romantic Options

Riel Rosenquartz (he/him, or she/her, or they/them), the heir of the Rosen Crown, lost monarchy of Vaeravel. Elegant, kind and diplomatic, they're overjoyed to meet another survivor of the disaster. Although you're not sure why they'd wait for so long before making the journey back home.

Khael (he/him, or she/her), the Captain of the Chrysa, the ship travelling to reach The Collapsed. Highly perceptive and infuriatingly charming, Khael is undoubtedly the person in charge. But what could they possibly stand to gain in embarking on such a dangerous journey?

Nathaniel (he/him, or she/her), allegedly a researcher hailing from afar, they seem to be unfamiliar with how the entire galaxy works. Mysterious, reserved and stubborn to a fault, it's undeniable they're hiding something big. Yet as complete strangers, you have no idea why they'd be so opposed to your presence onboard.

Aelinor (he/him or she/her), your old neighbor and childhood friend, miraculously found again in the mists of the ship's crew. Although they're just as sweet as you remember them, you can't help but wonder...where were they as you slept?

Portraits (1, 2); Aesthetics (1, 2, 3, 4); Playlists ; ROs Introductions (1, 2) ; Side Stories (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

A Hundred Years of Sleep is currently in development and will be released episodically, the current build includes the Prologue and the entirety of Chapter One.

If you've enjoyed the story so far, please consider supporting me on Patreon, it really does make a difference in the time I'm able to dedicate to the project.

Patrons receive access to the alpha demo, which currently adds the first part of Chapter Two to the public build, as well as side and themed stories, polls, and other exclusive benefits.

Thank you for your support, and for playing A Hundred Years of Sleep. 🌙

[bambi-kinos]

Why do you think Paul keeps saying to this day that John was really sweet. He really wasn't. He treated everyone like shit including Paul. Because he feel he has to? Because he was killed and people made him into something he wasn't? I don't blame John for this ). Or but because he was in love with him and that's what he remembers. John doesn"t deserve it. He's even overrated. Both P and G was/is better. I just don't get how someone like Paul who's a better man, artist and person keeps giving J so much credit. I'm not a new fan of the Beatles or Paul. I really can only see it that he was in love with him.

What else is Paul supposed to do?

Idk man I think Paul is just doing his best with what he has. He's never going to get closure on their relationship. He's never going to get an explanation that satisfies him. So he has to work with what he's got.

You have the wrong end of the stick on this, Paul isn't trying to give John credit that he hasn't earned. Paul is trying to move on from what John did to him by focusing on the good moments and remembering who John was before he was brain damaged by heroin and LSD. If your boyfriend has a TBI that changes his entire personality, is that really your boyfriend anymore? Is he really still himself? These are the questions Paul has wrestled with and it looks like he's realized he's never going to get an answer.

So he's focusing on what he does know which is that the John he knew and fell in love with was a sweet kid who sometimes let his insecurities rule him. But he was still a loving person who cared about Paul and was his closest friend for years.

Furthermore: if John was actually the raging dickhead that the internet thinks he is then he would not have had any friends to begin with. People with truly no redeeming characteristics who are assholes all the time don't get friends who defend them even after they die. The truth is that John was not actually a prick all of the time. Otherwise no one could have stood being around him. Paul calls John sweet because he knew the John that was a sweet guy, the guy that Paul loved.

You're also falling for John's own propaganda a bit. John never stopped projecting the image of being a cynical hard bitten street tough that intimidated everyone into submission with his temper. John occasionally admitted that all of this was an act (see his comments at playacting the Teddy Boy image while not actually being a gang member and why he felt he had to do it.)

But the truth is he never stopped projecting the "I'm an asshole you better not fuck with me" thing. All of this "I'm an irredeemable asshole I hate George and Paul!!!" is pure fakery. The very qualities you don't like were fabricated in large part by Yoko as part of a propaganda campaign, and from what I've read in the Dakota Years memoirs, this propaganda was out of John's control from the moment he started the Lennon Remembers interviews. John is just as much a victim of information warfare as Paul is, he just reacted to it differently and used it to barricade himself away from Paul.

That doesn't mean you have to like John or feel sorry for him or agree with Paul's decisions to try and leave the damage behind. You are reacting to the fact that Paul is visibly in pain when he talks about this stuff. He's bleeding in public and there's nothing no one can do to help him. The wounds are permanent. It is, in fact, rage inducing. John isn't here to speak for himself and try to explain. What else can we do as observers except be angry.

But Paul McCartney is 82 years old.

He's close to the end.

He doesn't want to do that, doesn't have time for it, doesn't want to spend his last years rehashing this shit.

Is there an alternative for him? All he can do now is try to make peace with it while he's alive and then he can finally get closure with John when he moves on to the next stop.

Paul doesn't call John 'sweet' for the sake of John's image. He does it to remind himself of the boy he fell in love with in 1957. Because he doesn't have a lot of time left and he wants to spend it being in love with John, not being angry at him. Paul is doing this for Paul. Simple as.

[faksyan]

Huey Emmerich, mgs v cast & hypocrisy, a character analysis

Prefacing this with the fact that this is the morally gray franchise with the morally gray characters and I love how it portrays Huey Emmerich precisely for him being Like That. I think he is one of the most nuanced and well-written mgs characters and I'm pretty sure like half of it wasn't on purpose. He is the guy everyone hates for killing his wife (understandabe reason), trying to make one of his kid pilot a giant robot and almost drowning another in a pool (also understandable reason), and, most of all, for being a traitor. And with such a list, feels a bit weird that the accent often falls on that last part, doesn't it. Which is exactly how the narrative wants you to feel about his betrayal, on a surface level.

Every character essential to the Phantom Pain plot gets their "please feel bad for them, sympathize with them" moment, no matter how horrible a person they are. We get multiple monologs from Kaz, we get the 'I was the same way once' interrogation room and the ending of the Truth with Ocelot, we get Paz tapes and 'you're all diamonds' with Venom, we get Code Talker, Quiet, Eli (if they actually finished mission 51), even Skull Face, somewhat (don't even make me start on that guy. how is he less hated than Huey). The point is, the game is trying to make you feel bad for people who murder, torture, and whatever else, and parts of it are working, because it's fiction, and humans and morality are complicated and layered things! But what does Huey get? Torture sessions and tantrums that are framed as pathetic and ridiculous, even when what he is saying makes sense. Because yeah, there's some of that there. It's just that everyone else in the room deliberately doesn't acknowledge it.

When Venom just finds him, the first thing Huey says is that what happened to MSF was Snake's fault. The same during his exile - that there wouldn't have been an inspection, if there weren't a nuke to begin with. and it's like. he's not wrong. Having their own nukes as an independent military organization was a risk Snake and Kaz didn't just take blindly, they knew what could have happened. It was a gamble, and it didn't work out. If it did, it would've been their achievement. It didn't, so it's all Huey's fault, even though literally anyone could've been in his place. XOF weren't even the first to attempt to attack them, Zero was, Paz just didn't succeed. And if Skull Face hadn't either, someone else would have, the attention of the entire world was on them. It wasn't about betrayal, it was Snake and Kaz being drunk on success and biting off more than they could chew. Yes, Huey is a bastard and a traitor, but are we really going to blame all of this on him?

The answer is yes. And the reason is that they need someone to blame that's not them. The whole big theme of Phantom Pain is that Ocelot, Venom and Kaz have to do their best to keep up appearances, for the sake of Big Boss and his reputation. He is a legend, he is above everyone else, and he can do no wrong. Except after the fall of MSF everyone thinks that he can, Ocelot says as much in the briefing tapes. And they can't have that. So they blame it all on Huey. (<- all of this is a dictatorship allegory and critique of governments and military systems btw. 1984 or whatever I haven't read it. yay symbolism.) And blaming Huey is easy.

Huey is not a fighter. His father was a scientist who worked on the Manhattan Project. He was born on the same day as the Hiroshima bombing, his disability was (presumably) caused by his father's exposure to radiation. It's not that there was no choice involved in what he was going to do in life, but it was kind of inevitable that he would get involved with building nuclear weapons. And even when he says he is thinking about quitting upon being found by Snake in Peace Walker, it's Snake who convinces him not to, offering him to join MSF instead. In the PW tapes he also expresses that if it weren't for his disability, he would've been anywhere else, doing something different and living a "normal life".

He talks about the concept of nuclear terrorism there too, about nukes falling into hands of people without state who would be able to use them however they want, and I wonder if that was part of the reason for his betrayal. He didn't make the decision to bring nukes to base, he doesn't actually know these people. If maybe he thought it prevented a hypothetical nuclear catastrophe. Huey does say that he trusts Snake not to use them, that he values how honest Snake is, and is honest with him in return, even telling him things he's never told anyone before, like about his plagiarism of Granin's work. So what changed between then and the inspection, what was his motivation for betraying MSF, why was he approached about it of all people? Did he lie in the tapes, did he change his mind, did Skull Face offer him something that seemed more compelling, just threaten him? We never get to find out anything about it aside from every other character screaming that he's just a coward. No villain monolog, nothing.

Maybe it was about feeling important, like he is in charge, something that the hostility he has faced throughout his life didn't allow him. Huey is a sheep among wolves (wolf in sheep's clothing more like, but still). He does not fit in with the buff cool masculine soldiers, and even while working with Strangelove at NASA, he was regarded as obnoxious and spineless. It's not surprising he agreed to work for Coldman, since he, apparently, was the first person to actually recognize his skills. And even that later turns out to be a lie told to use him. Huey rarely if at all has been treated seriously, he is an outcast, even among people who share his ideas.

All he has is his brain and his knowledge, but it's never framed as much of an achievement (despite people exploiting it left and right), nor is him essentially being the nerd in a military setting ever really viewed as something dorky or endearing by the narrative like with Otacon, because the characters around him don't see him as such (as a result, so don't the players). On top of that, every other person uses his mobility aids to further degrade/harm/threaten him, even though he is already harmless when it comes to physical confrontation. In short, people he is surrounded with just enjoy the powerplay.

Right up until the point he actually does something that hurts them. And this is where my favorite part kicks in.

All three Diamond Dogs' higher-ups blame Huey for slightly different reasons, some maybe even believing that they are in the right and entitled to it (looking at you Kazuhira), but I am more than sure they know what it is that they're doing. And it's not like Kaz lacks self-awareness either, I don't think. Maybe it's denial that some of his actions led to the death of his friends, maybe blind belief in his own martyrdom and self-righteousness (sounds an awful lot like another character we know, huh), it still doesn't change much. How they all frame the story is the same. Huey's powerless and pathetic, but has ruined everything at the same time. And it doesn't really make sense, but everyone on the base agrees. It's the moment where individuals turn into a crowd that demands blood, but at least it's not their commanders it's directed at!

The Questioning Huey (6) tape is a good example of that. I especially like the bit where he starts talking about how DD is not actually a dog, because on a smaller scale, it shows how people on Mother Base just roll with things that are objectively false and turn on anyone who says otherwise. No, DD is our beloved mascot, and we are called dogs, he is just like us. And it's not like DD is just a wolf either, so neither of them are right here. But each of them thinks that they are.

That's why the amount of genuine Huey hate is a bit amusing to see, I guess. Because it's precisely the thing the game is trying to commentate on. None of these people are good. None of them have it figured out. The point is that it's just narrative bias that makes you belive that some are, if not good, at least better than others. In reality, it's never about morals or being correct, just perspective.

Huey himself, on the other hand, falls into another extreme - in his eyes, he's done nothing wrong. Because he can do no wrong, he's powerless, like everyone's alway told him, remember? He sees himself as the victim, because in a lot of cases, he is.

You can say that he is a lying traitor and that the truth serum didn't work on him because of some failsafe Skull Face thought of, but really, would he bother? He didn't even view Huey as anything but a traitor he despised. you know, the guy who was in charge of organizing the betraying part. the guy who put bombs in people and wanted to commit mass-murder on a scale no one has seen before. So the obvious and the most simple answer here is that Huey whole-heartedly, truly believes he hasn't done anything wrong. He thinks he doesn't possess the power to, that he isn't important enough. And it's drilled so deep into him he never acknowledges it's not really true. Even when he kills Strangelove, he still doesn't accept that it is his fault and his actions matter.

That's my favorite part about him, I think. How deep in denial he is about having an impact on the people around him, while also having a sort of god complex when it comes to his machines. How everyone around despises him for it, while being the ones who caused it and doing the exact same thing, refusing to get off the high horse. Metal gear is a messy franchise about messy people, but it's good exactly because it shows what has messed these people up so much. And more often than not, it's the system they're surrounded by, or that they created themselves in an attempt to escape the previous one. It's easy to point at Huey as just a bad person and only that, but I find the context of his whole life and the ways he's coping with it really compelling. There is a lot of complexity to it, and in the end of the day, they are all hypocrites.

[perpetualexistence]

Specter of Obsession: A g/t Alenoaheather AU

So, I recently read a fic by @kijosakka called breathe you in my lungs and make you mine. It has codependent and obsessive Alenoaheather in a way that's just peak writing and I'll recommend it to anyone who loves exploring the darker side of their blorbos:

It gave me so much brainrot that I managed to come up with my own spin on obsessive Alenoaheather. That involves giant/tiny. Because I couldn't help myself. I'm putting it under a read more for those who don't want to see more psychological fics/aus. But yeah, enjoy reading about Noah getting the attention of a much larger Heather and Alejandro, and having to deal with that!

So this AU's got the equivalent of wolfwalkers. Except instead of having a wolf that comes out of you while you sleep, you get a giant ghost. While in that ghost form they can't be seen by anyone except for others also in their ghost form. They can also be intangible at will. Let's call them specters.

How does one become/gain a specter?

There are three requirements:

Having an obsession

Acknowledging it as obsession

Choosing to pursue it rather than make peace with it

After that last point, one's obsession becomes simply too large for their human body to hold. So they manifest a specter that contains all of their most obsessive and possessive tendencies so their human body can be more at peace.

In the beginning, Heather and Alejandro only meet the first requirement. They're both obsessed with status, but thanks to their upbringing they just thought it was a part of life rather than an obsession they were pursuing.

When they meet and see each other as equals, they become obsessed with each other. As they're obsessed each of them was restless/felt like something was wrong/missing.

All they knew was that the only solution seemed to be growing even more obsessed, so they kept letting themselves do that.

The moment that solidifies their transformation is when they do confess that they're in love with each other.

For the average person, that might have been enough to satisfy their obsession since now they can be at peace with their love.

But not these two. They've fallen in just as much love with the chase, with their rivalry, as they have with each other. They're too ambitious and stubborn to let that obsession go. And now that they know for a fact that the other feels the same way?

It creates this positive feedback loop of obsession. That's the night each of them wakes up massive outside of their bodies the second they go to sleep. They're large enough to grab a person in wrap their hand around their entire body with little effort. They only have one instinct driving them that prevents them from completely freaking out at this new situation.

Find your love, and be with them always.

They're both keeping this hidden because specters are usually 'kill on sight' for humans due to how dangerous they can be. Which means they can't do anything too obvious…buuuuut that doesn't mean they can't find ways to cause havoc/ruin lives while keeping their size hidden. The two are drunk on power and very addicted to it and each other.

Along comes Noah, who they fully intended on just having him be another one of their victims to discard once they were bored of him. They start messing with him when they get back home from school and rest…but he's a lot more perceptive than they give him credit for. They see that he's not attributing a shattered lightbulb or an unfortunate incident of 'bad luck' as weird accidents. He starts looking around everywhere when it happens. He's looking up.

And that's absolutely exhilarating that someone is growing wise to their tricks. To have someone search desperately for them. They stop their other nightly schemes and immediately pour all of their focus onto toying with Noah. He constantly has large shadows looming over him but can never see their source. When he's inside, there's loud tapping at the windows, strong enough to shake the window frames. Noah can feel two separate gazes on him: one icy, one hot enough to make him sweat.

It's exhilarating, to know how much power they hold over him and yet don't use against him. They could do so much worse, and part of him wants to see them try. He can handle anything they have to throw at him.

Noah doesn't tell anyone about the two specters he suspects are stalking him. Instead he decides to investigate to figure out who they truly are. It leads Alejandro and Heather to follow him even when they're just human to see how close he's getting to them. He's not going to any authorities about this, and that's so very telling. He eventually gets to a point where he's bold enough to quip at them while they're invisible and large. He wants to know what they're after, and at this point he's run out of other ideas. Besides, the temptation to poke the sleeping lions to see what they'll do is too strong for him to resist forever

Everything stops. He's worried that acknowledging their existence might have been a step too far. This only gets confirmed when he feels something suddenly holding his arms and legs to his sides and is lifted high off the ground. The fear overtakes him as he desperately tries to struggle out of this iron grip.

Only to feel a large, soft wall suddenly press against his face. Hard. It feels like someone is attempting to suffocate him with the largest, warmest pillow they could find. Trying to breathe only invites the wall to press further against him.

He's suddenly freed of the wall, only to feel himself jostle as the other ghostwalker has now stolen him away to do the same thing. They do it for just as long before allowing him the chance to breathe.

He gets to take in a single gulp of air before suddenly he's being pressed from both sides. It's like two weighted blankets have decided to cocoon him in their embrace. He's given a chance to breathe before he's enveloped in their warmth again. And again. And again. The two specters only seem to get more violent, more desperate in their assault each time.

Until Noah lets out a genuine yelp of pain. The assault stops immediately. Only to return, much gentler this time.

It feels like it lasts an eternity. It feels like it's only been a few moments. Until finally, he's slowly lowered to the ground. The iron grip on him releases as he swears he can hear giggling and chuckling. He can feel the ground quake as the two of them decide to let their footsteps be felt, though neither is to be seen. Their footsteps fade away. Noah is left disheveled and shaking.

His only regret is that he'd been so shocked he hadn't even thought to kiss them back.

The pattern continues day after day. He never had to wait too long after school had ended before he'd be picked up and carried off somewhere more private. They always waited for him to be alone. He started intentionally seeking out places without people to lure them out faster. They'd tease him, bat him around, and kiss him.

Oh, how they'd always kiss him. Once one of them got started, it always turned into an aggressive assault until they were satisfied. Any attempt at struggle only encouraged them to kiss harder and faster. They loved feeling him squirm. They were spoiling him rotten with affection.

Oh how it made him crave more. He struggled on purpose to rile them up. Once their kisses got aggressive enough, he would sneak his own kisses back. There was no way to tell who he was kissing, or if they could even feel it. It encouraged him all the more.

They would always release him. Eventually. He'd return home and get some actual studying in before turning to bed.

Sometimes they would be cruel enough to drag him out of bed and out the window. They'd go for round two before allowing him to sleep.

They would even go for at least one more round. His only evidence of this would be dreams of pillows and waking up to an open window and things strewn about his room.

Those nights were the best sleep he could ever remember. He was desperate to hunt down his secret admirers. If only to satisfy his own curiosity. He was sure he was getting close, and he did have his suspicions about Alejandro and Heather. But he still didn't have anything concrete.

He couldn't let them know if he ever did find them out. There was no telling what they would do if they knew he was aware of their identity. He didn't want to risk them stopping.

Until the day the routine broke. He waited in an alley after school. Nothing. He went home, constantly checking for signs of them on his trip. Nothing. He studied, he went to bed, he faked being asleep. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

This could just be a one night event. They could just be drawing this out to make it all the more passionate the next night. Or maybe they could have just decided they were bored with him and would move on to the next person. It was the most ideal scenario. He'd finally have peace.

Except he didn't want them to stop. He wanted them to keep going.

No. He needed them to keep going.

My god.

He needed them.

Heather and Alejandro came back to school the next day exhausted. Neither had been able to get any rest thanks to their families. They'd pulled all-nighters, and worse, they hadn't been able to spend a moment of time with the ones they loved most.

When they saw each other during school, the first thing they did was run to a secluded part of the school to make out. Once they'd satisfied their pent up frustration, they went to go check in on Noah.

He wasn't in his regular spot. They went to ask Noah's friends, but none of them had seen or heard anything from Noah since yesterday.

Had they pushed Noah too far? Was he furious? Was he merely sick, or was something else at play? Was he taking their one day of reprieve to run, or try to get rid of them? He better not dare. He was THEIRS and they'd do whatever necessary to prove it.

A sense of foreboding washed over the two. They felt as if someone were observing their every move as if they were under a microscope. They went through the rest of the school day, though they could barely concentrate.

They practically burst out of school the second it was done. They gathered next to Alejandro's car. He'd made a habit of parking it farther away from the school in a secluded alley. It also meant he could get away with taking a quick nap in the car. He hated waiting to drive back home to mess with Noah. For now, it served the benefit of talking away from others.

They would go to sleep, grow, and separate so they could hunt Noah down as efficiently as possible. Alejandro put his key into the door while Heather began to turn away.

A sharp, warm breeze hit their faces the moment they exchanged their goodbyes. It was enough to cause pause. It was February.

Alejandro's car began to move away from him. The wheels were unmoving. It slid 10 feet away, almost gliding along the asphalt, before stopping.

Just as they were putting the puzzle pieces together, the two were suddenly shoved into each other. Hard. Their faces were pushed together for a forced kiss. The grip was so tight it was as if something were trying to force them to meld into each other as one.

Someone didn't like them separated.

Someone didn't like breaks in routine.

Someone was starving for the affection he'd been denied.

Noah didn't bother with starting off gentle. He kissed them both at the same time with the same intensity they usually reserved for the end of their sessions. He kept going over and over. It wasn't as if they couldn't handle it.

He slowed only when his misplaced fury was quelled. His kisses grew softer. It was the closest thing to an apology they'd get from him.

At the final kiss, he gently set them down next to Alejandro's car. He'd had his fun making them squirm both with his absence and under his gaze the entire day. It was well worth the blemish in his attendance record.

Though they couldn't see it, his manic grin matched their own as they looked up to where they suspected him to be.

"I expect you to return the favor tonight."

[eleanor-on-the-internet]

writing some Manberg/Las Nevadas era Tubbo hcs for @best-vice-evr/@las-nevadas-business because I'm bored

warning; discussions of various types of abuse, alcohol, trauma, subconscious victim blaming (very specific), unhealthy behaviors, and overall a not very healthy situation.

I'll add more if I missed anything, but I think that covers most of it.

1. He sits out in the hallways most nights, waiting for the noise to stop. It's more to confirm that Quackity ended up asleep and resting.

2. Tubbo has a habit of taking on more than he can handle, to try and lighten things for Quackity. It usually works, so he never really stopped.

3. on the nights that Tubbo can't sleep at all, which are a majority of them, he ends up trying to fix up the messes Schlatt leaves behind. It always ends before dawn though, not wanting to risk waking the older ram up.

4. Tubbo knows a lot of medical information to better suit what injuries Quackity has, to ensure that the avian is receiving the proper treatment.

5. The only gift Tubbo received from Schlatt in the Manberg era of things was a locket with a picture of Tommy in his L’Manburg uniform in it. He still wears it around most days.

6. on the nights Tubbo went to visit pogtopia, he would only leave if Quackity came with him. It was more of a safety thing.

7. In the Las Nevadas era of things, Tubbo genuinely believes his experience in the Manberg era wasn't scarring in comparison to what Quackity’s experiences were like.

8. Tubbo likes using the ‘:]’ and ‘:[’ and all its variants like Quackity, but he also uses the emoticons —(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)— like Schlatt.

9. Tubbo has more of Quackity's genetics and generally takes after Big Q, with the exception of a few things from Schlatt. (Like his Ram traits, and the way he acts when he's overly stressed out.)

10. Tubbo genuinely didn't know what a healthy, stable marriage was meant to look like until he met Ranboo. And as a bonus; he was terrible at hiding that he liked them. He was also awful at hiding that he liked Tommy.

11. Tubbo's a light sleeper, he always has been and always will be. It's just how he is.

12. Tubbo very frequently makes sure that Quackity is intaking a healthy portion of food every day, always setting aside a bit of his own meal to give to Quackity. It eventually ended up in him having disordered eating habits. (He'd do it all over again, because it meant that Quackity actually took care of himself. And that was all he wanted.)

13. Tubbo's known about Quackity's cannibalistic habits since a few nights before the funeral for Schlatt was held. To keep the peace, he never said anything about it — but he's known.

14. Tubbo regularly visits Schlatt's grave, bringing him dried out flowers and small trinkets. He hates what their life was like with Schlatt in Manburg, but a small part of Tubbo misses him. It hurts a bit more every time, but Glatt is making things better.

15. Tubbo is mostly sober, occasionally taking a few sips of something alcoholic. He’s almost always sober any other time though.

16. Tubbo's a bit of a collector, taking trinkets and anything he deems ‘pretty.’ Most trinkets are in his bedroom, but a few are in his workshop too.

17. Speaking of his workshop, Tubbo spends a lot of time in there — mostly because of his projects, but as mentioned in headcanon two, it's also a habit to try and take on more than he can handle.

18. The official cover of the song ‘fries’ from the show Adventure Time is the way Tubbo invisions his relationship with Schlatt. Something more soft and bittersweet, rather than the mistreatment and hurt it actually was.

19. THE ONLY HC I'M WRITING FOR POST–RANBOO’S DEATH: Tubbo planted an entire garden of pretty flowers (mostly alliums and white flowers) after the passing of his beloved partner, and takes Michael to visit the garden every night before bed.

20. Tubbo tended to stay away from Schlatt unless the older was entirely sober, mostly because he wanted Schlatt's attention and he wanted to be positive that it was REAL. Like, Tubbo understood that the loving attention wasn't ever as genuine as it was when Schlatt was entirely and fully sober.

21. Speaking of — Tubbo slowly started to become more and more comfortable around Glatt, until eventually they had a pretty wholesome relationship. Especially since Glatt has shown that he can, and will, act better than Schlatt ever could.

22. whenever Tubbo gets really silly, he acts like a little kid with a ton of stimming (usually flailing his hands, stamping his feet onto the floor like hooves, and doing silly little spins)

23. Tubbo has been taking care of others more than himself since the very first month Schlatt was drunk almost daily. He never really learned to put himself first — he still has a ton of issues with it.

24. Tubbo was in denial of being trans for awhile, not wanting to accept the fact that he was just a bit different. After a long talk with Quackity though, he calmed down, and started to accept it. (My silly boy :[..)

25. Anytime an adult is drunk, mostly Quackity, Wilbur, or Glatt, Tubbo tends to avoid them. Alcohol still makes him uncomfortable for the most part.

26. Tubbo feels most comfortable around Quackity, and always has for the majority of it. Although, he's definitely working his way to being more comfy around Glatt— and he's come to view Wilbur as an honorary parent. He still favours Quackity though.

27. As said in headcanon eleven, Tubbo is a very light sleeper. Anything, even the softest of noises, could wake him up, since he's so familiar with having to be ready for ANYTHING as soon as he wakes up. It's almost impossible for Tubbo to sleep soundly, unless he's asleep in Quackity's nest.

28. Tubbo is very emotionally stunted. He doesn't really take the time to feel his own emotions, but he tries to hold the space in his heart for the people he cares about. He holds as much space in his heart as he can for the people he cares about, but he doesn't really leave any space for himself.

29. Tubbo very frequently forgets to take care of himself, and when he does, it's never for as long as he subconsciously craves. As a bonus, he frequently forgets to take breaks when he's working — since he's never really had the chance to.

30. As said in headcanon eighteen, there are two songs I associate with Manburg hornsduo. The official cover of the song ‘fries’ from the show Adventure Time, but also Vampire Empire (the demo & the full version) by Big Thief.

AS OF NOW THIS IS CLOSED!!! MOSTLY BC I DON'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION >_<

If I do end up getting more ideas, this will be updated :)

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

I am so obsessed with all of your writings, you capture the papas so beautifully!

I was wondering if you could write some copia fluff! Maybe a fun date after a stressful week? Or a cozy night in after a stressful week? Just light hearted, sickly sweet fluff (copia deserves that hehe).

Thank you for reading this message! And thank you for all your work! 🖤

Aaaaaaaah, thank you so much!! That means so much to me!! I work really hard to get them all as accurate as possible! <3 I hope you like this as possible!!

I'm always a sucker for fluff and sweet in this creepy ministry! These scary satanic men need some good romance!!

Copia x Reader Sweet and Fluffy Moments After His Stressful Week

~Copia is a man who has never known a moment of peace... except maybe the very first week he was Papa, when he was allowed to celebrate. He was a Cardinal and official Treasurer long before the Ghost project. So his plate was always full from his work and taking on Papa Nihil's shrugged-off duties. Being Papa only amplified his responsibilities on top of touring and maintaining a public image for the band. So you know your lover is completely drained every day.

~Copia always does so much for you and you are happy to return the favor. Truly, you are one of the few people that ask so little of him so he's always gone above and beyond to provide for you. You know his current tour is wrapping up and he will be exhausted when he returns. So you make a plan to give him the rest he deserves (with Sister Imperator's blessing, too!) All you had to do was wait for him to come through your bedroom doors.

~Eventually he finally does stumble home. Absolutely drained from just getting through the abbey to his rooms! Signing papers as he walked out of the tour bus, barking orders, and greeting EVERY sibling that came over to congratulate him. By the time Copia dragged himself through the opulent bedroom door and into your shared room he practically collapsed on the bed. Sneakers in hand and gucci bag tossed against the wall. Copia only relaxed when he felt your hand rub his back through his wine colored designer track suit.

~ "Let's have the longest bath ever." He loved the sound of that. Granted, you had to help him sit up and get off the bed but Copia happily followed you into the bathroom. The Papa nearly chokes up when he sees you have the entire giant tub decked out in rose petals and his favorite champagne and the TV on the wall to his favorite Home Improvement show (all Emeritus love TV's in the bathroom, sorry!) You spoil the Hell out of him once you're both in the water. Rubbing his aching shoulders, feeding him small snacks, and applying a face mask as he tells you about touring.

~That's only the beginning! After your bath you force him to stay in his fluffy bathrobe so you can tell him all of your plans! You convinced Sister he NEEDED a good week off to fight off burn out, AND SHE AGREED! So you planned the most romantic and relaxing week of his Papa Career! You could nearly see the tears brimming in his eyes out of love and gratitude!

~Every night is spent like this. Doing absolutely nothing together but sitting in your bathrobes, getting take out, and watching all of your favorite shows and movies. Maybe even calling in some at home spa treatment.

~A couple of your days are just lounging or finding a peaceful place outside abbey walls to relax. You found a beach you both enjoyed with a picnic (guarded by ghouls as you did, of course). You even shared a kiss and a selfie on an overlooking cliff during the sunset!

~One entire day was spent where you were both in pajamas and just playing with his pet rats (who you adored like your own) and finding funny youtube videos to watch.

~You had at least one date at fancy restaurant where you INSISTED he wear his favorite sparkly blue jacket (his dinner jacket, if you will!) as you wined and dined him. You pulled out all the stops! Pulling out his chair, ordering for him, and even getting his favorite dessert brought out. Copia's favorite was when you two snuck onto the balcony to slow dance in the moonlight, like it was a cheesy romance film.

~"Amore, you spoil me too much... what would I do without you, eh?" Punctuated by a grateful kiss.

(Bonus: Sodo has told you both to get a room this entire week. But he was just happy to see his boss finally get a chance to relax.)

[bluef00t]

Finally collecting these in a post—Atomic Robo robotswap ideas. This was more of a character design challenge than a real AU, but the concept kind of got away from me.

Rambling design notes + a couple panel redraws + some ideas I had for Helsingard and ALAN 1.0 under the cut:

This idea spiraled out of an old sketch by Wegner of real-boy Robo as a genetics experiment. I'm interpreting that as basically Wolverine minus the animal motifs (and generally much more well-adjusted).

I tried to mimic more elements of his bot design; for example the hair silhouette and the thick blue-tinted glasses, swapped for goggles as his lifestyle got more active. I guess sensitive eyes are a side effect of his mutations. (The classic superhero forehead curl on babyrobo has no design justification, I just couldn't resist.) His appearance would make the public of the '20s a little uncomfortable with seeing him as Tesla's son. Which feels very thematically appropriate.

I'm still calling him "Robo" because it feels weird not to, though it would be a nickname. Appropriate for a guy who never sleeps; plausibly derived from Robert/Ratko. (The American name would be how he's introduced to the public; the Serbian one used casually by Tesla.*) Honestly, it seems in-character for him to put down Robo as his actual legal name when he finally got that chance.

*Things I found out after picking these names for their superficial resemblance to "Robo": Robert means "famous, shining" and Ratomir means "defender of peace"; literally "war for peace". Definitely an affectionately ironic moniker for a son so determined to be an action hero. Though dear monolingual Robo probably wouldn't catch on until decades after Tesla's death... Well, now I've gone and made myself sad.

The action scientists are mostly an excuse to still draw robots. Let's say they're Robo's big midlife crisis project after realizing he was going to outlive his entire first team and not think about it too hard.

Vik (inspired by Robby the Robot) is the oldest of the models. He's optimized for processing power, which is how you get a robot that will try to suggest purely hypothetical (but mathematically sound!) solutions to urgent real-world problems. And enjoys TTRPGs of Turing-complete levels of complexity.

Lang (inspired by Robo) came shortly after, more optimized for the "action" part of action science. Being made of metal does wonders for your recoil management. (I know she hasn't had the hair buns in 10+ years, but that's what I was trying to do with the "antennae".)

Foley (inspired by Alan) is the newest model, optimized for human-robot interaction. Getting wifi installed in her head early on had the unexpected side effect of making her really good at understanding networks of all kinds.

BRN-3 wasn't built to be sentient. He's just a lab geological survey bot that began showing signs of sapience one day and attributes his own "enlightenment" to the "crystals" he'd been studying. This is obviously bullshit but nobody can give a better explanation, so...

Jenkins is literally just the Terminator, except his evil future is vampires instead of AI. He was sent back to kill Robo, which clearly didn't work, so they talked it out and now he just hangs around Tesladyne on high alert for anything that might kick off the apocalypse.

(I have no idea where Ada, Ben, and Koa fit in here, but I might come back to them later. Using their Agents of CHANGE power suits as android designs felt like cheating.)

Not included in these drawings are Helsingard and ALAN, but I'm considering switching around parts of their premises, too.

Helsingard was a Nazi supercomputer meant to calculate the perfect world-conquering strategy. Instead, it realized that Germany's loss was imminent and hid copies of itself around the planet. Every once in a while, someone accidentally boots up a copy and it tries to take over. In the modern age it's a total dice roll as to whether this will be horrifying (what major infrastructure isn't computerized these days?) or just kind of pathetic (it's too old to understand the internet and can easily get itself trapped in an office printer spitting toner and stacks of paper that read BEHOLD HELSINGARD).

ALAN (potential rename pending; the Turing connection is rather lost in the version I'm going with for now) is the world's second successful "unkillable" genetic experiment, a govt project during the Cold War to ensure that the last man alive in a nuclear winter scenario would be British. But it turns out telling a guy he's the next stage in human evolution and sealing him in a bunker for decades to await a chance to inherit the earth which doesn't come isn't great for his sense of compassion or morality. Eventually, ALAN decides to hurry things along before we inferior humans end the world in a less convenient way, and Robo has to... well, you know this part.

It turns out there was a secret phase 2 to this plan, which would have been to populate the solar system with perfect immortal mind-networked clones of himself. The single under-baked clone that it does manage to spit out before being shut down is our Alan :] He needs someone to look after him while his crazy healing powers fill in the missing chunks of his body and brain, and he didn't get a full memory upload from ALAN, so it's free son boy!

No changes were made to Dr. Dinosaur. He's already perfect.

[kaidynsarell]

Chapter 8- Of Clock Doors and Paper Cranes

📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜🍂📜

Pairings-Sebastian Sallow x Female OC

Rating- This story is rated overall 🔞(Ch 8 is SFW)

Tags-Angst, Pureblood Politics

The full chapter can be found below the cut(4.5k words)

Ongoing Fic

Chapters 1-11 can be found on WP and AO3

Monday, 12 September, 1892

There was a quiet sort of social seclusion the library offered.  A warmth found tucked between the pages of books and curled amid the peaceful sounds of shuffled robes and rustled pages.   In the smell of quill ink and aged parchment.  In the hummed murmur of whispered voices.  The unspoken understanding of the need for companionship without the necessity of conversation.

Clara could have returned to the common room for her break after Potions. Usually, she would have. It was closer.   Instead, she'd climbed from the dungeons and found herself trading shades of emerald and rippling light for dusty browns and beiges and tucked herself into one of the reading nooks on the lower levels, her books and parchment spread out in a wide arc on the aged wooden desk.

Her second-hand copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration was so battered the cover was held on only with glue and bits of spellotape. Even her muttered reparo had done little to fix the damage.  There were only so many times a thing could be broken before the spell was rendered useless.  Until it needed to be patched with stitches and tape, and its scars would forever remain on display.

The assigned reading was dull at best.  Her mind slogging through a chapter on  Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.  An increasingly tedious subject made worse with each of its theories, arguments, and exceptions. Still,  she was trying to read it.  If one could call it that when she'd hardly focused enough to comprehend a single paragraph, and the image of freckles and messy cinnamon curls kept forcing their way to the surface.

><><><><

She only offered a muttered acknowledgment when the tell-tale pulse of Ominis's wand sent crimson light scattering over the aged browns and beiges.  He pulled back the chair beside her and, as always, sat with the effortless poise of an aristocrat.  He dug in his satchel momentarily, pulling not a book but a small stack of brightly colored,  perfectly squared parchments.  Each one was so thin she could see the shadow of his hand on the other side. 

She watched for several minutes--all attempts to read temporarily abandoned-- as Ominis began to feel and fold along the edges with a meticulous, almost mathematical precision.  Each edge perfectly straight. Every corner aligned with careful accuracy.  Folded and flipped, tucked and folded again. Over and over until he took the two narrow folded points at the top, pulled them outward and down, and the unassuming square emerged as an elegant paper crane.

He could have done it with magic. She knew, but he'd insisted on folding them by hand as long as she'd known him. Cranes, flowers, foxes. Any number of flora and fauna.  Each folded with the same fastidious care as the last.

He slid another sheet of parchment from the pile and tipped his head toward her.  "Give it up, Clara dear.  We both know you're not doing homework."

" I am."  She snapped her eyes back to the book.  To the same page, she'd already read five times over and couldn't remember a single word of,  as though that might absolve her.  "I'm reading."

"Please.  I've been here twenty minutes, and I've not heard you turn a single page.  I know you do not read that slowly." He made another fold and flipped the paper over to feel for the crease.

His blindness did nothing to deter her from glaring at the side of his head. "Fine,  I'm avoiding Sebastian." 

It wasn't entirely a lie.

She had managed to avoid him through Charms and Potions, both of which she shared with the twins. However, she suspected it may have as much to do with his sudden irritation over his new classes as her attempts to position herself away from him. 

Even so, she had caught him glancing at her from across the classrooms.  Stolen moments.  Blue eyes meeting brown beneath dark lashes.  The corner of his mouth pulled between his teeth in that way, which meant he was thinking too hard about something before one of them would inevitably look away.   Too often, and her first break in classes hadn't come soon enough. 

"Clara, please do not try to tell me you are actually trying to hide from Sebastian Sallow in a library.  Merlin, you may as well stick yourself in the restricted section.  He'll never look for you there."  The sarcasm dripped so heavily that Clara almost expected the words to grow eyes of their own and roll themselves at her.

"Was it your Aunt who taught you how to make those?" She flicked her finger at the exposed edge of the folded paper still tucked under his fingers.

It was too obvious a sidestep, and the blond exhaled slowly,  lips pulled into a flat, straight line, before he finally gave a resigned sigh,  " No, it wasn't, Noctua."

Not the response she'd expected,  " Then who...."

" You do realize you cannot avoid him forever."

"It's a large castle. I think I can manage."  She'd make it her own personal mission if she had to, and

her stubborn begged control. Twisted its fingers to grasp at the places violet petals had left their imprints. "He's been here for months Omi.  Months and he never told us."

" I am well aware.  But quite frankly, Clara, all three of you have been hiding things, and I've grown rather tired of it."  

"I--"

"Did you not consider that I might be worried about him as well?"

It was the pull at his usual staccatoed cadence. The strain of weariness seeped between the letters that saw her abandon her scrambled attempts at defense.

"Right." She sighed. "I know."  The 'sorry' refused to pull itself from her throat, and she cast around for some other distraction. "What are you doing here, then, if you're not avoiding him as well?"

"I'm not avoiding,  but Sebastian still has yet to fully unpack his belongings.   I've no desire to attempt to navigate whatever mess he's made of our dorm, and  Anne is currently in Care of Magical Creatures.

" Speaking of Anne" Clara ventured, "She didn't appear particularly pleased about that letter you received this morning. Whatever it was."  It felt like dangerous territory with how his face tightened at the mention of it.  Still, her curiosity plowed on.  Too pleased to have found some other topic to ease the lingering taste of guilt that stuck to the roof of her mouth and refused to be scraped away.

" No, I rather think she wouldn't be.--" Even with his precise enunciation, the blond's voice was so quiet she had to lean in to discern one syllable from the next.  His fingers pressed against the edge of folded paper.  Flattened it to a sharp crease.  He was stressed.  More than he was trying to let on, given the way his fingers pushed hard enough to bruise over the edge of the paper.  "-Recently, my father has seen fit to remind me of my duty to our family's legacy and the continuation of the Gaunt line.  As I have thus far failed to procure a worthy consort for marriage, I have been informed one will be arranged for me."

She was used to his haughty irritation. The sarcasm and quick quips of a boy raised in a society where an insult hid behind every polite nicety.  Where war was waged over dinner parties and woven into legislature. Where every Ball was masquerade, whether it was advertised as one or not.

Clara was even used to the hurt and fear that had too often lived behind it and had begged her assistance to keep Sebastian from what he had feared was inevitable destruction.  She was used to fear.  She was used to hurt. She was not used to the heaviness she felt around him now. It was cold and thick and dark, its edges sharp and honed to razors. 

A glimpse of the Gaunt he so often suppressed and any fear that hid there now was so blanketed by the depth of his anger she could barely make out the imprints of where it still lingered--huddled and shivering.

"Surely they are aware you and Anne have courted  for nearly a year.  Why only begin to insist on arranging another match for you now?"

"At best, they've tolerated our involvement, and I have ignored their increasing encouragement to find someone more suitable."  Another fold and Omini's fingers shook as they pressed against the crease.  It was near uncanny the way he could continue to fold the parchment.  Each line and fold as precise and bruising as the last.  More precise, even with the heaviness that surrounded him.  "It almost seemed to amuse my father for a time, and I had hoped, perhaps naively, that they would simply let us alone.  But it seems whatever tolerance they had for the relationship when Anne was ....."

Dying. 

He'd trailed off, but Clara hardly needed to see the way he'd bit down on his lower lip to know that was the word he couldn't say.  That none of them could say.  As though to dissent in speaking of it directly.  In avoiding eye contact. They might have somehow staved off the inevitable.  The strongest of wards woven within their refusal of acknowledgment.  And now her health had returned, their refusal lay in the fear that to speak of it would somehow allow death's fingers to find their home at her throat once more.

"--Now that Professor Black has done the courtesy of informing them of Anne's renewed health and her return to school, their encouragement to end the relationship has become a demand."  He scoffed.  A little laugh that carried no humor.  Something hissed and bitter. "She's not even been well for a week, and they've already--"

"But you're both of age."  It sounded petulant even to her, but owing to the blond's far from subtle aversion to the rest of his family, she had assumed he would simply leave it all behind.   Now, suddenly, the whole notion felt ludicrous.  The Gaunts did not wed their sons to half-blood daughters.  To think they would allow otherwise only emphasized the naivety of a girl not raised in high society.   Still, her protests continued unhindered, her lips working furiously to outrun what her mind had already concluded.  "Surely, they cannot force you."

The small, sad smile only confirmed what she already feared. "It is not that simple, I'm afraid."  He sighed and stood before she could press further, shuffling the papers back into his satchel with a flick of his wand. "Anyway, you've no need to worry about hiding from Sebastian.  At least not for the moment."

Ominis's turn to sidestep and Clara jerked her head back just as he pulled the satchel to his shoulder.  "What?"

"I told him I'd meet him in the Undercroft before Arithmancy.  I expect he's there now. "

"Oh?"

If Ominis was aware of the implied question in the inflection of her tone, he feigned ignorance, and her curiosity beat its fists against the stubborn that refused to ask why.

Instead, he set the now-finished paper crane on the desk near her still-open book and muttered something about finding her in Arithmancy later.

She caught his sleeve just as he turned. "Omi, what are you and Anne going to do?"

He just shook his head, and fear peeked out from where it had tangled with hurt and stress and huddled beneath his anger. "I do not  know,  but I will not have her harmed."

"You think they would try to hurt her?"

She barely needed to see the way his face tightened, so reminiscent of that morning, to know the answer. Given his history with them, it should have been obvious, but it still wrapped tendrils of ice along her spine.

"They've done worse for less."

He left without another word.   On the cusp of having his heart shattered, not by death, but by the society that still bound him.

><><><><

Instead, she took to pulling at the tail of the paper crane.  The movement shifted the head and wings, and for a moment, she could imagine it was flying.  Out and away.  Icarus leaping from the tower.  Paper wings beating furiously as the little bird made its escape. But unlike the boy whose wings had been doomed to fail as he threw caution to the wayside and climbed towards the sun's light, this little bird's wings would see it safely through the bookshelves, up the stairs, and out to the courtyard.  Soaring up play amongst soft breezes.  All need for caution was discarded as it danced along the beams of golden sunshine.

But her envy was caustic and resentful, and it glowered at the little paper bird.   The stupid little bird that did not carry the weight of scarlet on its wings, whose mind did not echo with screams when it was allowed to grow too quiet.   The little bird that had not been left behind by the parents she'd never known,  by the mentors she'd failed to save, even by Sebastian, who'd vanished without a word.

By the Keepers who'd deserted their frames and shut her out since she'd returned from the Repository.   Left her stranded with an ancient power, their Trials had done little to help her control or understand.   It was a power that had forged destruction with her hands.  Painted canvases in shades of ruby and garnet and witnessed the fractures in her soul.  A power that had stopped a rebellion and crowned her the 'Hero of Hogwarts' and yet left her utterly powerless in every way that truly mattered to her.

She couldn't use Ancient Magic to save her grandmother or Professor Fig.  It had been useless to take Anne's curse or stop Sebastian from leaving, and now, short of murdering the rest of the Gaunts, she found herself powerless again. 

If the Keepers could have offered any further assistance, their perpetually empty frames had made their intentions toward any additional education with her Ancient Magic abundantly clear, and she'd long since given up returning to the Map Chamber to ask for help.

"Miss Elmore." 

Clara jumped at the sudden noise.  Snapped away from her reverie. The wing of the little paper crane tore with the movement, and the little bird toppled from her fingers.  Sprawled out against the desk, its bid for freedom failed. Perhaps it had flown too close to the sun after all.

Professor Sharp was leaned on a cane clutched in one hand.  The other wrapped around two books, the outer of which had a faded set of runic symbols on the cover she didn't recognize.  Considering the exasperated tone and the considerable arch of his eyebrows, he'd been attempting to gain her attention for a length of time she was too embarrassed to think of.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I asked if you would please deliver a message to Mr. Sallow for me?   believe you two share Arithmancy this afternoon. I was just about to be on my way to send an owl, but I am in no mood to traverse up to the Owlry, and if I've learned anything with teaching, it's that students will often spread messages far faster than anything with wings.

Clara blinked and straightened, trying not to contemplate how long he'd stood there watching her glare at that paper crane.  "Oh, sure. I mean, yes, sir."

She was not naive enough to think his phrasing it as a question was anything more than courtesy.  Refusal would be a surefire way to lose house points or earn a detention. Neither of which she fancied.  Nevertheless, she found she didn't mind the request.  

Professor Sharp was one of the few who still looked at her like she was a person—not some burdened hero with a glorious power or a frail, broken thing that might shatter at the sight of a strong wind. Perhaps it was owed to the time he'd spent as an Auror, but neither pity nor reverence held any purchase in his gaze, and unlike so many others, she found his one of the easier to maintain.

He shifted his weight against the cane "Very well. If you'd kindly inform Mr. Sallow, he will be needed in my office directly after the end  of today's lessons."

"Do you need Anne as well?"

The potions master just shook his head. "No,  just Mr. Sallow will be fine." 

><><><><

Clara could have waited until Arithmancy to talk with him.  She should have waited, and she cursed the traitorous feet that clipped her boots through the corridors to that worn wooden door in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, with its clocks, stars and faded runes.

They'd hardly approached the space since Sebastian had left, and still, there was a warm familiarity in the twist of her wand and the whirring clicking of the gears.

It was only the sound of voices—raised and angry—beyond the closed door of the liftgate as she reached the bottom that halted her fingers within the cramped and dusty space.  The movement of the lift had been loud.  It always was. Even within the Undercroft, they could always hear its clamor.  The idea of sneaking up on anyone already there had long since been abandoned, but the voices hadn't faltered even slightly as she'd heard the jarring clang that marked the end of her descent.

".......Really Sebastian!  I thought I'd made my opinion on that matter perfectly clear.  What in Merlin's name  would suddenly make you think I would agree with you?"

Clara curled her fingers around the edges of the handle. She hardly needed to lean closer to hear that low, frustrated groan she knew too well—the indication the argument had been going far too long, and still, she tipped her head forward.

" We've been over this.  Anne was dying.  I didn't have another choice!"

There was a sharp tap. Perhaps the rap of knuckles on wood, though Clara couldn't be sure, from behind the closed door.

"There is always another choice!"  Ominis again.  The usual clip of his tone was abandoned.  Stretched to breaking and lost amid the stone pillars.  " But every single time, you chose to throw yourself down that path.  All those books on the Dark Arts you thought you were clever at hiding,  The Scriptorium,  That damned Relic! Again and again- "

"I did what I had to do.  I don't regret it." 

"I am all too aware!   And that's just the problem, isn't it.    Sebastian,  you do realize if anyone found out what you had done,  you would be in Azkaban."

There was a sudden crash, and this time, there was no mistaking the slam of a fist against the table. Clara jumped, knocking her elbow into the wall. Loud enough to ricochet around the small lift and out into the Undercroft, though if either Sebastian or Ominis had heard, neither gave any acknowledgment.

"You think I don't fucking know that!"  If Sebastian hadn't been shouting before, he was now.  "You think I don't know exactly what the consequences of my actions are!"

"Do you?  Because sometimes I'm really not sure you do!"

"It wasn't something  I did lightly, Ominis!  But it's done."  The shout had faltered so quickly that she almost missed the little catch in his voice before it settled to something weary and resigned.  "I can't take it back, and I'm done apologizing to you for it."

" You know I should say something."

Clara pressed herself closer to the door.  She felt the sharp corners bite into her skin as she clenched her fingers around the edge of the handle.  She'd thought they'd all been in agreement: she, Anne, and Ominis.  Sebastian's actions were reckless, devastating even.   But she'd assumed when Ominis had brushed at the idea of turning him in; it had been no more than a shadow of a consideration.  A fleeting, fearful creature brought to light in a moment of desperation.

"You won't."

If there had been a bluff, Sebastian had called him on it.  They were brothers, after all.

" No,"  Ominis sighed,  "I won't.  But  for her sake, not for yours, and really, Sebastian, you should do it yourself."

Only the quick clip of footsteps alerted Clara to Ominis's approach, and she just managed to pull the lift door open and step out before the blond brushed her.  He only nodded briefly in her direction, Sebastian close on his heels, before  Ominis stepped beyond the liftgate, and they heard the clamor of its ascent.

Sebastian froze mid-step "Clara?"

It was odd how suddenly the vastness of the room could shrink around them.  How the world could disappear entirely, and each breath could count a lifetime.

Why hadn't she waited until arithmancy?

"Professor Sharp wants to see you in his office after lessons."  The words spilled so quickly from her that she couldn't be certain he'd even understood before she bolted for the lift and wrenched the gate open. 

"Ara, wait— "

But she'd already stepped into the cramped space.  Almost in time to shut the door, when Sebastian's hand closed around her arm, and he stepped in across from her just as the door clanged shut behind them.  His touch wasn't firm. Light enough, she could've pulled away with little effort but enough to notice the warmth that melted from where his hand still lingered against her bicep,  spread across her shoulder, and trailed up the side of her throat. 

He had always been warm. Hot really.  Even in winter.

The lift jerked and rattled. Not used to elevating more than one person at a time.

"—Can we talk?"

She couldn't explain even to herself why the request boiled inside her veins.  Curled around that simmering hot coil and ignited her anger.  Even so, she made no move to pull herself away from him. Not that she had that far to move within the lift.  They were both already backed against opposite walls.

"You left us, Sebastian."  Left her.  " Without saying anything.  You've been back here for months and never told us.   You don't get to show up after a year and suddenly decide on your whim  I'm  worth speaking to!"

"I know."  His other hand pulled down his face.  Voice clenched at the corners. " I just...I  thought maybe—"

"How many times did I ask you where you were?  Do you know how many times I—"

"You think I enjoyed it?  Being alone all that time.   Cutting myself off from every single person I care about!"  He barely needed to raise his voice for it to echo above the whir and rattle of the lift.  The fire was still raw within him, only tempered to embers after the argument with Ominis, and it flared again. Flames to match her own in this fractious dance they'd found themselves in.  " I didn't have a choice!"

"You chose it!  Nobody told you to—"

"It wasn't because I wanted to!  Anne wanted nothing to do with me.  Neither did Ominis.  He's better at hiding it, but I know him well enough to know when he's putting on a facade and-

"And what about me, Sebastian?" That hot coil had flared to inferno, a blazing wildfire that crackled up her throat and abandoned all attempts to regulate any semblance of appropriate volume.  "I would have gone with you!  You know I woul-"

"Exactly, Clara!  Anne was dying.  I couldn't stop even if it destroyed me, and you'd already torn yourself apart trying to help.  You almost died in that Repository with Ranrock because you'd already depleted your magical energy in that damned catacomb.  You were unconscious for weeks! They didn't even know if you'd wake up and–" She almost missed how his voice faltered at the end.  Caught at the edge and toppled off the precipice.

"Seb, that wasn't–"

That hadn't been his fault. 

"I'd already asked too much of you.  I couldn't keep  dragging you down with me."

There was some part of her—a part she shoved below her anger that could almost see the logic in his madness, however flawed. The hastily pieced-together plan of the boy who'd lost everything in one fell swoop.  Watched his hope flare to destruction between his burned and blacked fingers and leapt at a desperate attempt to salvage the crumbling pieces. Even if it meant leaving everything behind.  It was that part of her that peeked out from below the flames and trailed up to that warmth melting around her bicep. The part of her that  led her feet to the undercroft to find him. That traced her fingers along that enchanted parchment in her pocket and pretended not to wait for him to write again.   That part of her that looked for him in every room.

That traitorous part of her soul that, even now, would follow him to the end of the earth if he'd asked.

"Do you think we'll ever get past this?"  His voice was so soft she almost couldn't hear him over the noise of the lift—barely a tremble above a whisper.

As though he didn't already know the answer better than she did.

It was strange how suddenly she became acutely aware of how close he was to her.   Close enough she almost had to crane her neck back to look at him as he tipped down to meet her.   So close she could see the little spots where the skin on his nose had started to peel from sunburn, and once again, he'd pulled the corner of his lip to worry it between his teeth.  The darkness over his eyes shifted and softened, and she could almost see the swirls of pine melting from his pupils.

How easy it would be to let go, to lean forward and let her head rest against his chest. She wondered then if his arms would wrap around her if she did.  If his fingers would curl into her hair and massage the base of her neck the way they had so many nights in 5th year.

"Sebastian, I-"   She didn't even know how to finish—caught between anger and tears and violet petals pressed between heartbeats that begged her stubborn surrender. 

But then the lift jolted violently as it reached the top, and Sebastian shifted back against the wall.  His jaw tightened ever so slightly.  Those dark, impenetrable walls slammed down behind his irises, just as cold and unrecognizable as ever, and Clara pulled herself from his touch.

"I've got class.  I just came to give you that message from Sharp."

She didn't.  The bell wouldn't ring for another thirty minutes.

They both knew it.

But Sebastian made no move to stop her when she stepped out of the lift and disappeared down the hall.

><><><><

That night, her dreams were

Pale fingers that dripped garnet against trembling blades of grass.

Choked screams. Terrified and pleading.

Golden light speckled through the rustling leaves of a hawthorn.

Swirls of emerald haze and terror wove ice through veins below puppeted digits.

The crunch of bone and crimson splattered against worn wooden floorboards.

Bright white and a darkness that crushed against her ribs, squeezed and she couldn't draw breath.

A flash of glistening hazel.

"It's okay, Sweetheart."

She woke with a start, pressed the scream into her pillow, and the next night saw her swallow a third vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught.

[usmsgutterson]

Hi!! Wylan x reader who’s an inventor of sorts & just made a camera for the sole purpose of taking a picture of him <3 👾

Wylan x male! inventor! reader headcanons

hi!! Thank you for sending in the requests that you have and I'm sorry that they've taken so long to come out! I will say that tumblr has been very glitchy on my end lately and I've been losing requests and not seeing them for a bit--or ever again, some of them have been missing from my inbox for a couple weeks now--so if there's anything of yours I've missed that you can recall that you really wanted me to write please don't hesitate to just plop the idea into my inbox! If I end up deciding to write it I'll put it into my drafts to ensure I don't lose it but if I decide not to, I'll let you know!

I went ahead and did this as headcanons, which I hope is all right!

Fic type- this is just fluff straight out the gate

Warnings- this was written and then posted almost immediately after it was done, so there's not much to speak of as far as editing is concerned

Okay, so!

Photos as a concept were something that was being discussed just generally around Ketterdam a lot

Mainly in circles of the stadwatch because if they could get photos they could have evidence through more than some very shoddy paintings, sketches, or word of mouth

and with a lot of effort, a level of planning by which even Kaz would be impressed, and a bit of practice in being startlingly quiet footed, you wormed your way into the rooms where those discussions were taking place because you had an idea of your own.

You took the words spoken by government officials and inventors under the Kerch Merchant Councils employ and went home. You drew up a plan that was completely different to the sketches you'd seen while you observed from a point high in the ceiling, the back of your head pressed against a wall as you willed yourself not to breathe too loud and to avoid being noticed

You developed the first camera that Ketterdam had ever seen across the weeks to follow, something different to the sketches you'd seen from afar while you listened to the government drone on about how much of a benefit to society cameras would be while they were in the hands of the stadwatch

The ideas that the government were circulating all involved relatively clunky cameras, ones with tripods that came out the bottom and were exceptional only in stationary situations.

You developed a camera that you could take anywhere. It was lightweight, could fit between ones hands, and had the option of attaching a strap so that it could be carried while slung over ones neck.

The entire motivation behind the project made you feel a bit silly, but Inej found it to be rather romantic and Jesper thought you cheesy, as they were the only two you had told until the first prototype of the camera was complete.

They were your best friends, and they'd both happened to walk in on you planning out the invention at different points, ask what it was out of curiosity and receive your honest answer.

The entire reason you'd liked the idea of cameras was not for the gang related purposes most would've assumed had they known of it. You were not developing a portable camera to help Kaz and Inej gather intel for their schemes and their battles that would eventually have lead to a gang war.

You liked the idea of cameras because it meant you could take photos of Wylan, your boyfriend.

You could capture the moments where he looked so at peace while the two of you watched the sunset in the garden, the look of focus as he worked on an explosive, the sight of his head tilted back as he laughed.

You could capture all of the unforgettable moments that you were scared of forgetting anyway, seconds in time wherein you felt infinitely happy and needed something to remember that.

So, it was the first night you'd let yourself exist with the final product that Wylan finally discovered it.

He discovered it while he and Inej were laughing, glasses of wine in their hands when suddenly--

click!

Wylan glanced in your direction, where the sound had come from, found you yielding the camera with a grin on your face.

He would ask you how you got it and nod when Kaz observed that the government had unveiled prototypes that looked completely different at a discussion only open to those living in the merchants district.

You would shrug and tell him you invented things, and that you needed an excuse to get five steps ahead of government inventions anyway.

You were smarter than the lot of the government idiots combined and they wouldn't start shrinking camera sizes for a bit by your predictions, so you had time before a government official got wind of it all and approached you, offering to give you money in exchange for the patent and you said no.

You told Wylan the opposite of the truth in that moment, not wanting to get called a hopeless romantic or face any of Ninas teasing for the romantics right then and there.

You told him and the rest of them it was for intel gathering purposes and that it was the first prototype--Kaz would get the second, maybe the third, and he would get it for a price because you weren't going to sell one of them off for cheap.

Wylan knew you were lying but didn't push it.

Later that night, you told him the real reason you'd bothered to invent a camera that was so far ahead of the one that the Merchant Council was unveiling in fits and starts.

You'd done it because you didn't want to forget even the most unforgettable moments, and upon learning that, Wylan nearly melted.

He kissed you, and he told you he loved you, and he called you an absolute sap before he grabbed the camera and looked at the photo you'd taken.

He loved it. He'd never quite anticipated loving anything of that sort, but he looked genuinely happy in that split second, and knowing that you were the person behind the camera made him love the photo that much more.

In short, he loved you and he loved that you created a camera just to take photos of him and to not worry about forgetting the unforgettable moments you both lived through.

[ntdramaqueen]

Stories from South Downs' Cottage: A Good Omens TS3 Project Remake

After saving the world once again and having resolved their feelings, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to settle down in a South Downs' Cottage to build the precious and peaceful exsistence they've always dreamed of.

Hey ho! I'm back and I bring you cottagecore husbands v2.0 If you were here before, then you've heard about Chronicles of Ineffability - a project that I've started a few months ago. And never finished. Life's a real bitch sometimes... But! The pause turned out to be necessary. I admit I wasn't entirely pleased with how I made Aziraphale and Crowley at first so I decided to give them a make over. They're still pretty much the same, but this time I made sure their facial features wouldn't look as sharp and buggy as it used to be. + Changed the hairstyles a bit, shopped for more realistic wrinkles, modified their bodies with cc sliders and - most importantly - added body hair. Very important, that. Very important.

The cottage is the same one from before by gorgeous Frau Engel. It was love at first sight and I think this lot is perfect for Aziraphale and Crowley. The only thing I intend to change is the inside of the house by removing some furniture and decor as if they've just moved in.

Gameplay

The story takes after hypothetical season 3 of "Good Omens" (filming starts in January - wahoo!) where Crowley and Aziraphale are supposedly to prevent The Second Coming from happening. Since the wait for season 3 is quite torturous - especially with that devastating season 2 ending - I thought it'd be great to "write a fanfiction" in The Sims 3. Don't worry there'll be no angst (except good old sims' love for drama), everything is to be quite the opposite: fluffy, funny and romantic. A few points:

I made Aziraphale and Crowley witches so they can perform miracles.

Naturally, they are not supposed to have basic human needs like bladder, hunger, hygene, ect. But, as far as I know, Crowley sleeps occasionally while Aziraphale likes to consume human food (even Reign of Terror couldn't stop him from having some crepes!). That's why I plan to somehow customize ts3 needs to suit the gameplay. At the end of the day, there's always a roleplay.

Crowley will grow plants but won't work as a gardener. However, Aziraphale will try his hand at the magician career track. The best thing is - it's a playable job! We will be able to see the Amazing Mr. Fell in action.

Possibly will add more Good Omens characters as the story progresses.

Characters' Traits

Crowley

Hot-Headed

Green Thumb

Hopeless Romatic

Rebellious

Dramatic + [hidden trait] Immune to Fire

Aziraphale

Proper

Excitable

Neurotic

Bookworm

Perceptional

What's to come?

Aziraphale and Crowley sims models. Since some people have been asking me to share my sims, I plan to upload them here soon with all the mods I used. Not sure if it'll be all-in-one pack or you will have to download each mod separately since I'm SO VERY afraid to break my computer while trying to merge mods together. But! One way or another, I promise you I will give them to you, haha.

Lots of beautiful screenshots. And not just that, but many fun dialogues and a captivating story.

An animated series (?) - that is, a machinima of sorts. But I'm still not sure about this since it's a serious business and I'm notorious for starting and never finshing.

VERY unlikely, but perhaps my own Good Omens mods. You see, it was so damn hard to find a suitable cc for this project so I thought why not make my own? The problem is, I've never done this before. I'll have to learn Blender to make my wishes come true. And perhaps I will. And IF I do, I will gladly share it with you.

Stay tuned!

[thehollowprince]

There is no ignorance, There is knowledge

I was on TikTok last night at work and came across a video calling out how many Star Wars "fans" were complaining about the "wokeness" being introduced to the franchise, specifically citing Lizzo's glorified cameo in a single episode. Putting aside that this is a franchise has a wise and powerful character played by a freaking muppet, the TikToker (?) rightfully called out how so many of these fans never seem to actually interact with any Star Wars projects. Their opinions seem to be based entirely on their own perception of clips and images taken from the internet and pop culture.

Hence, the title, because oftentimes, consumption of the source material usually clears up any confusion as to what this franchise has always been about. With Knowledge, we diminish Ignorance

I was reminded of this yet again this morning when I got home and checked my recommendations from Google and was greeted with this monstrosity.

I know I shouldn't get worked up because this is Screenrant, and literally anyone can post anything to it. There doesn't seem to be any vetting process to this website and what it publishes. But I've been seeing more and more Jedi slander over the last few years, and I just can't keep my mouth shut (metaphorically speaking).

So let's just break this piece of garbage down.

Naturally, it's not a complaint against the Jedi unless we call them child abductors, right? Putting aside the fact that I have never seen so many incorrect statements strung together in a row like that (and this is just the first paragraph), it really emphasizes the point I'm trying to make here.

There is no perfect system in any of Star Wars, no matter what faction you're a fan of. The Jedi are no exception to this.

The Order does not kidnap nor indoctrinate children. At least not more than any other religion, political group, revolution, educational system, etc. How the Jedi refill their ranks isn't any different than how the Mandalodians recruit their foundlings or how the Clones were created by the Kaminoans. The Jedi find Force-sensitive children and (with their guardians permission where applicable) and offer them a chance to not only hone abilities that can be dangerous without proper training, but an opportunity to be a part of what is a generally revered organization throughout the galaxy, bringing peace to all those they can.

This has been explained multiple times by multiple people within multiple supplemental entries of Star Wars materiel, but there is a reason that the young are chosen to be trained instead of adults. The entire purpose of the Jedi's order is to teach their students empathy and compassion (despite what this author insinuates, saying the Jedi are "without emotion or passion") so that they don't become tyrants like the Sith or other more militant factions throughout the Galaxy.

In fact, once again in complete contradiction to what this author says, the Jedi once filled their ranks with many adult initiates, but such recruits fell to the Dark Side at a much more commensurate rate. It was because of these constant droves of Dark Jedi that the current practice of only accepting students younger than a certain age or maturity became more pronounced.

But let's move on.

Say it with me now:

"The Jedi never forced any member of its Order to forsake their heritage!"

As a matter of fact, there are multiple examples of Jedi who not only explore their birth heritage but embrace it.

Both Shaak Ti and Ahsoka Tano, as Togruta, incorporate both a Togruta sash and an akul tooth headdress into their Jedi attire

Shaak Ti actually took her padawans to her home planet for their training

Plo Koon was both a member of the Jedi High Council and the Baran Do Sages, a Force-sensitive order on his home planet

Oppo Rancisis was the son of the Blood Monarch of Thisspias and kept in contact with the royal family

A'Sharad Hett wore the traditional coverings of a Tuskan Raider

Both Luninara Unduli and Barriss Offee bore traditional Mirialan tattoos

Tarre Vizsla, the creator of the Darksaber, wore his Mandalodian armor during his time with the Order

Ki-Adi-Mundi was married!

Depa Billaba wore the marks of the Chalactan Adepts

And numerous other examples!

There has never been a tenet of the Jedi that prohibits their members from either learning of their culture (in fact, it's encouraged to do so) or to seek out their family or people. The only thing the Jedi have ever been pretty strict about in this regard is the formation of attachments. Specifically, the unstable emotions that come with such attachments and how those Jedi will do anything to retain them (i.e. Anakin Skywalker.)

This next one is a real doozy.

I have never read such garbage in my life. That's like saying, "How dare you not teach these children to be racist to their classmates because that's their family's culture!"

Once again, I understand that I shouldn't get upset because this is Screenrant, and they will post whatever click bate bullshit will get you onto their site. Rage-farming is the word, and I'm sorry to admit that I fell for it. It just infuriates me that so many people, or at least the most vocal ones, are so adamant about tarnishing the Jedi. All while usually loving characters like Vadar or Maul or any of the Mandalodians, who canonically do much worse than the Jedi ever did.

Are the Jedi perfect? No. But throughout STAR WARS, they've done the best they can within the confines of a horrific situation that they were forced into. They don't deserve this prolonged smear campaign because they don't meet the ever changing and often unrealistic standards that some people want.

Note: Sorry for the small text, but I wanted people to be able to differentiate between my words and the article.

[whimsicalcotton]

https://www.tumblr.com/whimsicalcotton/754357180408430592/httpswwwtumblrcomwhimsicalcotton754291483902

Same anon (Angst on the Radio Anon)

Oh Wolf — Goddamn. I've always had it in my head that Chloe punches way above her weight because she just wants to feel something, that song fits this perfectly. She can bark AND she can bite but she'd never do the latter except if she had to. Music vid hits different in the context of LiS too, if you take the ghost as Rachel (because everybody only gets together at weddings and funerals, and Arcadia Bay ain't exactly the place to hold the former)

Cross My Heart — I love how it could be EITHER about Max or Rachel. As much as Chloe plays at being this lone wolf, I think she wants a pack of people to lean on. The song is like a super casual way of saying “please god save me”. Loving the acoustic guitar paired with the raw vocals because it projects power and hides said cry for help

Tongue Tied — "I loved you then and I love you now" is both Chloe on Monday and Max on Loop #576 going on #834.

Cornflower Blue — I keep thinking about E2 and the train, and this quote from Mr. Robot about how “a bullet to the brain is peaceful in its own right”. In that first loop, that train was probably the worst way that Chloe ended up dying, but now it’s like… how much else has she seen, to the point now it's like “as long as I get to love you and have you around, that would not phase me”? And "I want to lay on the kitchen floor with you / I want to do all the things that lovers do" in THIS context? Reads less like "Oh this would be nice", more "I cherish peace with all my heart. I don't care how many men, women, and children I have to kill to get it." Max, you don’t even need therapy at this point, therapy needs to STUDY YOU.

Holy shit, excellent choices. Just found two more for Max now that I’m thinking about it:

Bloody Shirt (Bastille Remix) — To Kill a King (Max Caufield, "light the match and curse my name" era, https://youtu.be/P00kfamddrI?si=zvs7vg2xt4irFxPJ)

The Shepherd's Boy – Murray Gold (if you know, you know, https://youtu.be/fXo47CIUuFg?si=tjpax1QbOvmF1Rf0)

This is fun!

glad i could share the absolute gut punch that is Cornflower Blue with someone bc it Haunts and Torments me <3

tbh the entire second verse wreaks havoc on my brain. like. "the days they fly like trains go by / i'm on my way home to you / and i think about if they ran me down, baby what would you do?" + "in the morning i'll love the mangled bits of you / i'll love you when your lips turn cornflower blue" + "i love you til i wear you out / then i love you more'' oughghghg. tfw you're a creature of desperation & longing and your greatest work of art is suffering untold horror ad nauseam in the name of protecting someone you love <3 as you so wonderfully put it Max doesn't just need therapy anymore therapy needs to study her <3 <3 <3

also "I loved you then and I love you now" is both Chloe on Monday and Max on Loop #576 going on #834. you Get me. you Understand me

also also, real footage of my reaction to seeing The Shepherd's Boy

[vulpinesaint]

i am in the EXACT!! same spot as you with the whole if they wanted to they would. im sittin here trying to be understanding like ohh i know theyre stressed i know theyre goin through it i should reach out first. have to pull myself back by the collar and remind myself they would! if they wanted to! why am i wasting time waiting on them when they are living life just fine without me in it. anyways ive been trying to focus on people who actually do wanna put the effort to be in my life and that there will be future people who will want to too. wishing you the best and peace!!

hiiii my love this has been sitting in the askbox all day cause i wanted to rlly sit down and answer it... finally went to work and did my research project and finished a french assignment so. sitting down for a while. chit chatting. for real though we are in the same space <3 i am a believer in reaching out first! i am! i am perpetually hurt and hurt and hurt when i'm the only one reaching out first but i do believe in it. was talking about this with miffy last night but what rlly stings for me is not getting any response. like they're stressed and they're going through it but they can't take the time to put a little heart react on my "hey i love you i miss you i hope you're doing well" message for Weeks. i think maybe at that point like... in an effort to be nontoxic and reasonable i will say that it's still not someone's fault if they can't get together the effort for that. it's not. but at that point, i don't feel that i can keep spending the effort without seriously draining myself to the point of resenting them or just making myself miserable, and that's where you're so right. you gotta pull away. that's maybe a situation where it's two people who just cannot meet each other's needs and while obviously relationships aren't transactional they do have to be two sided... idk. you might love someone to pieces but if you're not communicating that somehow they're not receiving it. and that's where i reach a point of toxic girlfriend If You Really Loved Me You Would Want Me To Know It.

rambling. anyway absolutely we are in the EXACT same space with pulling ourselves back from things... i spent a lot of my high school years throwing myself wholeheartedly into relationships and putting in tons and tons of emotional labor with absolutely everyone and it had me fucked up but you know what! part of what makes me myself is that i do love being there for people, and i love making people feel safe and heard, and it's part of my love language to go out of my way for someone. so i could've kept doing it and been active listener no. 1 that got all the venting from everyone and doing constant work to make myself a cheery presence online and to be everyone's cheerleader and everyone's older sibling figure and everyone's adoring boyfriend except that with some people who Really counted for me i was getting Nothing back. and it got to a point where it hurt so bad that i pulled myself back entirely for a while and now that i'm starting to really put my Self back into relationships especially online i'm having to do a lot of grabbing my own collar pulling myself back. cause i can tell when i'm putting in effort and effort and effort into a conversation that's just not. warranted. and i know it's going to overextend me and it makes me sad to not put my whole emotional self into relationships with everyone around me but i also know that it won't be good for me? so. trying not to be "i'm always here for you" guy so much and trying not to be "i love you so so so much" guy with people who don't care enough to put the work in for me too in whatever way they do it. and i have people right now who i love SO much who i know love me so much back and i am so happy with that. and thinking about past relationships that i've pulled myself away from makes me a little sad just to know that i had to take myself out of that... but like. you know. you're with me. kissing you we will have people who care enough to Want to and Will. peace and the best to you my love :)

[luvsavos]

12 and 30 for the peepaws naas and vul, a silly question and an interesting👀 question a perfect balance lmao also E and G i am making you work

oc questions ask game!

as always thank u for the ask<3

12: How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

iizthur: instead of doing anything rational, he just gets Salty about it LMAO, how dare it be in some place that he can't reach, absolutely Inconceivable smh

lokzii: like everyone Except Iizthur, if possible he'll find something to rub himself against to get rid of it, HOWEVER if that isn't an option he'll try his best to just Ignore It and wait for it to go away on its own, no matter how Loud it might be.... or just do the smart thing and ask another person to scratch it for him. somehow he is the Only One that thinks to do this

naas: if he can't rub himself against something to get rid of it (that likely only being in his human form, since i THINK a fatalis could reach every part of its own body somehow?? Think. i am not 100% on that), he'll probably rapidly get pissy over it, but he'd rather be pissy about it than ask someone else for help

vul: if she's not able to rub against something to get it to go away, she probably tries to make it go away via the supposed method of focusing Really Intensely on the itch to make it go away, with... mixed results™️. she somehow does not even think to just ask someone else to itch it for her. also i'm going to project onto her and say that if an itch is particularly bad if it DOESN'T get itched it'll actually cause muscle spasms, which she finds particularly annoying and undignified-looking

30: Who do they most regret meeting? 

iizthur: vul, absolutely no questions asked. bitch took his fucking eye!!!!! his whole shtick of conquering other monsters' territories and forcing them out to take for himself temporarily was going all fine and dandy until he met her and she not only refused to relinquish her territory but actively managed to beat him in every single confrontation they had. not only did she take his eye but she wounded his pride too and that's Unforgivable™️

lokzii: honestly? nobody, really (Yet). he's always been somewhat distant from others outside of his brother and his goddess, so he hasn't properly met anybody and known them well enough/long enough to consider himself genuinely regretting having met them.... though i'm sure that'll change soon<3

naas: do the Entire Ancient Civilizations count LMAO.... naas feels that if he had never been as fond of the ancient peoples as he was, and never intermingled so much and been so keen on not hurting them, even despite being a destroyer, that nothing of what happened to him would have happened---he wouldn't have gone to them in peace and thus given them the opening to capture him as he did; he would have been able to simply destroy them all without issue, and he would've never been captured and experimented on. humanity is, in his eyes, the five's greatest mistake

vul: there is TWO to this! iizthur, Obviously, but also another specific malzeno (a friend's oc<3) that's caused her no small amount of problems (see: spreading a vampiric plague and letting his qurio run rampant and then letting the blame get pinned on her bc she was the only other malzeno in the area at the time and, bc she prefers her true form and he was, at the time, in a human form, that led to assumption that it was her at fault) and emotional distress (see: literally fucking killing bahari at one point lmfao) and taken Extreme genuine glee in her distress

AND for the creator's questions!;

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

i would absolutely NOT get along with naas or iizthur nor would they get along with me; iizthur's a bitch, and i am a mortal which means naas would disdain me and be an asshole and i wouldn't like it ahdksjgk i DO think i would get along nicely with vul and lokzii though<3

vul and i would be able to have the 🤝 over The Tism and i think she'd greatly appreciate that i wouldn't be offput by how uncanny valley she is in her human form, nor would i react negatively to her in her true form (even though she would absolutely be incredibly intimidating), and lokzii is a very patient and laid back person, which i can vibe with and i think he'd vibe with me also being laid back; he would let me infodump about my hyperfixations and listen with genuine interest (and make us both some tea and a meal as well probably) and i would appreciate that So Much🥲

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

hooh boy!

iizthur? the fact that he keeps fuCKING SHOWING UP EVERY SINGLE TIME I'M IN THE GUIDING LANDS IN WORLD /hj

seriously there's like a 70% chance that when a monster rotates out he will replace it. or when i open the game and go to enter the gl he'll already be there. He Will Not Fucking Leave!!!!!!!!

lokzii: aside from the fact that i absolutely did not INTEND for him to be Depressed, he just kind of Decided that he Wanted To Be, Apparently (/lh), i think it's the fact that he's. FAR too patient and forgiving for his own good. while he can, obviously, be aggressive when need be---even if primordial malzeno are docile by nature, malzeno as a species still have latent, innate aggression and are Brutal when provoked---he tends to prefer to avoid fighting and conflict that isn't necessary, and can be. much more patient than he SHOULD be with others sometimes

naas; definitely his stubbornness and unwillingness to see other perspectives. to be Fair, that does absolutely stem from his trauma, but... Still. it's REALLY hard to get him to even be OPEN to an outside perspective; usually he'll just close off immediately and get defensive rather than listen

vul: i can't really think of anything off the top of my head for her honestly, maybe the fact that even when plainly presented with clear-cut evidence of gods existing (see: that one time when she Literally Met Xeno Face To Face) she just.... still Refuses to acknowledge or believe that deities exist. but tbh any "frustrating" things about her are just objectively really fucking funny so i can't even be mad about them bc girlie is just a hot mess of a dragon masquerading as being significantly more regal and well put together than she actually is LMAO

[incarnateirony]

Anyone remember when 2po pledged up and down, yelled, hollered, got real shrill and called me a liar when, as soon as you guys all accepted what I'd already said about something about john and mary being in dev because Deadline leaked it instead, I expanded that it would be about Dean, actually?

The raving nonsense from him and his ring was all IT'S NOT ABOUT DEAN JENSEN IS PERFECTLY AT PEACE WITH IT HE LOVED THE ENDING etc DON'T LISTEN TO THE GRIFTER, IT ISN'T HAPPENING AND THE CW ISNT BEING SOLD or whatever.

Yeah I remember that.

So how's everyone feeling after listening to Jensen's new songs?

I'm going to keep putting pins and reminders in how absolutely unplugged the man that spreads so much filth and misinformation in this fandom is. He's never had the foggiest fucking idea what any of this is about and it's going to come for him no matter how hard he denies reality and projects and calls everybody else liars.

Do not let him continue to corrupt this fandom dialogue. It's time. To start listening. To Jensen and Robbie. Not to some rando asshat that's been spiraling in denial for a year and a half just because it's what you WANT to hear. That's not how reality works.

We're going back. To the place he was born. Pushing back against the walls of time. Seeing all the faces before him.

2po's classic fashy tactics are becoming more transparent by the day. He's spent years accusing anyone who's message and truth was inconvenient of lying as he does. Everything from that account is a projection, a warped interpretation, a narcissistic self obsession. Nobody was ever lying. The market testing, berens intent, confession, roadhouse, omissions, pilot, show intent, episode morals, the sale of the CW, all of it was true whether he was willing to accept it or not.

But he had to convince his cult following that he was ripping thousands of dollars out of for gold panels that HE was the savior, HE had the truth, and EVERYONE ELSE was lying, while aggressively lying ABOUT what anyone says, and boxing in his following to never read what anyone ACTUALLY says, just what he wants to tell them it MEANS. Yeah. What a lying, grifting, clueless conman.

Now he's devolving to attacking ANYONE with the truth. Rando fans? THEY MUST BE CONNECTED TO ME except they're not. I know you've fash-tactic tried to dehumanize an entire server to delete their opinion, but it doesn't work when you just start thrashing and attacking They Silenced You, or M&Gs 20 people heard you went radio silent on, or Vera, or Laur, or the specific con handlers that have truth you don't want vs ones that are clueless you rely on, or whoever the fuck finally got part of the truth late. Now you're just an asshole to EVERYONE and they get the chance to see what you've done to ME once you do it to THEM.

It's over. You lost. Go home. It's showtime.