#i still call it the readmore

[unexpectedbrickattack]

shenanigans

[clefclefairy]

in today's episode of time is a flat ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, I think it's incredible to have seen the Fanfic Posting discourse turn the full xbox 360 on "don't clog up ao3 with useless tags THIS ISN'T TUMBLR!!!" to "don't tag everything you can think of on tumblr! save spam tagging for ao3!!" and i'm willing to bet it's in no small part because a lot of older users still remember when only 5 tags on tumblr showed up in searches. now it's 20.

[void-kissed]

chaining cherry blossom to clover (Clio/Aria)

Clio being chosen for the Dandelions means she gets to avoid the approaching Keyblade War, and Aria vows to find a way to join her in the new world despite not also being chosen. Despite the road ahead not being clear, a very special gift is given, one which would come to be the key to the two reuniting later down the line. (1974 words)

This is my first piece of selfship writing for my new blog, and also my first piece of selfship writing for my (current) newest romantic selfship with my OC, Clio! I hope that anyone who wants to read it enjoys doing so, as I definitely enjoyed writing it ^-^

Tag list: @sunlight-ships | @artificervaldi | @hirael | @thatslikesometaldude (to be tagged in what I make, please see this post!)

Comments on and reblogs of my work are always okay, and appreciated, but are by no means required!

(Document transcript under the readmore:)

When the Dandelions began to be chosen, the Sapphires were one of the first parties whose members were approached, to the surprise of approximately none of them.

After all, although the group’s existence and purpose did not become widely known for some time, it seemed logical in retrospect that the party which once collected more Lux than any other in the Anguis Union (save for one) would harbour many Keyblade wielders with powerful light; wielders who were therefore wanted, wielders who were valued, wielders whose identities - their bonds to their parties and their Unions - would all be cast aside as they would be made Dandelions, made into Dandelions.

As war’s shadow loomed ever closer over Daybreak Town, tensions slowly but surely rising up to boiling point, the Sapphires found themselves being able to count more than one of their wielders in the ranks of the Dandelions - the ranks of the few who had been chosen from all others to survive the world’s end, leaving the rest of the people they had known to simply fall and be lost in the senseless combat that fate would have them march towards.

“So they want you as well, do they?”

Aria’s casual question that she already knew the answer to reignited the spark in her girlfriend’s eyes as the two sat together by the sunset-lit fountain one evening.

“Yes!” came Clio’s reply, in a light voice that shone with much of her typical positive temperament. “I really can’t say I saw it coming, but it feels like such an honour, you know?”

“I can only imagine it must.”, Aria smiled, though her own tone was comparatively much more subdued. “After all, so few individuals have been selected for such an important role.”

“Mmm! Yeah, that’s.. a really good point..” Clio’s excitement had softened and dissolved somewhat as she picked up on her girlfriend’s quietness. It was easy for her to tell when something was up with Aria, based on subtle details like the way her catlike ears were slightly downcast, or how her wings were subconsciously tilted to face the floor; it had gotten to the point where she couldn’t help but feel slightly surprised when others said that Aria was almost impossible to read, and tended to blame it on things like her cold way of speaking, or the mask that she wore across the lower half of her face.

“..What’s wrong, Ari?”

“I.. it’s nothing.” she tried to insist.

At this, Clio shifted closer towards her on the fountain’s edge, reaching forwards to place a comforting hand on Aria’s shoulder. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna pry if it’s not something you want to talk about, but if something’s up, then it isn’t good to keep it locked up in your heart or anything.“

Careful not to shake Clio’s hand away in the process, Aria shifted, drawing her legs up to lean them on the edge of the fountain. Her wings were now being held outwards slightly to better improve her balance, ensuring she would not go toppling backwards into the fountain.

“It’s.. more that I don’t know how to word it properly without sounding mean..?” she tried to explain. She was looking away at this point, and her left hand was absentmindedly toying with the ribbon of her hairpin, while her right hand held her legs.

“Huh? How so?” Clio asked her. “..What, d’you think I shouldn’t have been picked or something?”

“What? No, it isn’t that at all!” she clarified quickly, finally turning to look at Clio’s now-worried expression. Her own eyes carried surprise; she would never doubt Clio’s worth like that.

“It’s of no surprise to us that you were selected, because you possess such strong light. But you’re not arrogant with it like so many others of similar strength seem to end up being - in fact, I would say you’re the only person with such bright light that I feel so comfortable being around like this.” she admitted. “So, in many ways, you’re perfect for this.”

“Aww, that’s really kind of you to say!” she replied, worry fading away with relative ease and becoming relief. “But, uh.. What is it, then? If I can ask that?”

“Of course you can ask that.” Aria stated plainly. “It’s just.. If you go with the Dandelions, I won’t be permitted to come with you.”

“Why not? I’m.. sure they’d let me bring you with me!” Clio tried to smile further and be reassuring, but the way her voice faltered slightly indicated she was not entirely confident in her statement.

“..Maybe if what they were after were simply strong Keyblade wielders. But they aren’t.” she insisted, turning her head to look down at the ground again. “All they want is light; they’re gathering those whose hearts have strong light inside of them, and leaving everyone else to the chaos that we all know is coming. So, the last thing they would want within their precious ranks is something like me.”

“Oh.. I guess I didn’t think of it like that.” Clio shuffled closer once again, trying to give Aria as much comfort as she could after hearing the “something” and the spite in her tone. “But, if a war really is on its way like they said it was, then surely they’d just want to rescue as many people as they could from it?”

“That would be the sensible way of going about things, but..” She let out a sigh. “Keyblade wielders who have darkness in their hearts are seen by some as weaker, or less trustworthy. Even moreso if those wielders actively try to make use of their natural affinity for darkness, if they happen to have it. It’s.. arguably not entirely misguided, considering the corruptive effect that darkness can have on people’s hearts when too much is present, but that doesn’t mean that everyone who wields the darkness is evil.” Her hand was playing with her hairpin again.

Now it was Clio’s turn to sigh, feeling dejected. “I sure wish more people could actually see that instead of insisting otherwise..”

There was a fairly long pause as the older wielder trailed off, and the pair of girlfriends could only hear the steadily-flowing water from the fountain they were sat on the edge of.

“I mean.. I haven’t technically joined the Dandelions yet.” Clio then stated, taking a moment to lift up the crown of clovers she wore around her head to stop it slipping. “There’s meant to be a meeting pretty soon, but.. I could always just stay here with you instead! At the end of the day, I- I really don’t want to lose you..”

“No.” came Aria’s response, bluntly but not coldly. “You should go with them.”

“Huh? But.. what about you?” she replied. “And everyone else, too - I can’t just leave everyone to suffer while I go with the others!”

“Just because they don’t want me there doesn’t mean I won’t go there, clover.” she stated, very matter-of-factly. “If you’re with them, then I’ll just find a way to make it to you. And it’ll be easier to do that if you go with them, because not only will they then be easier to find, but I can be more certain of your safety while I hunt for them.”

“You really think you can follow them..?” she wondered.

“Yes.”

“..How?” she then asked. “I mean, I definitely reckon you could do it, but.. You sound surprisingly sure about it. A lot more than I would be, in your shoes.”

“..It’s because of this.”

For the third time that evening, Aria’s hand found her hairpin, but this time it was much more deliberate - she reached up above where the ribbon ends hung and carefully brought her fingers around the cherry blossom flower in its centre, running her thumb across its large, soft petals.

“..Your hairpin?” Clio asked.

“Yes.” she repeated. “If you’ll have it, then.. Please take this with you when you go with the rest of the Dandelions. Take it as a promise, and a sign - if it’s with you, then the rest of me can follow. And I will follow, somehow, even if we don’t quite know the method yet. I will find a way to be with you, no matter what it takes. Whether I’m a Dandelion or not.”

A brief moment passed as Clio’s eyes became glittery with tears.

“Aww, you’re going to make me blush, Ari! That’s so sweet of you to say, I.. I don’t think I know what to say! Of course I’ll take it, if you’re okay with giving it to me!”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

Using her right hand as well to ensure none of her hair got unnecessarily caught, Aria carefully moved her hands into position, her dark red nails that Clio had painted for her working their way to where the cherry blossom grew from. She then took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tugged as hard as she could bring herself to pull. Despite bracing for the action, she still let out an involuntary hiss as she did this, wincing and shutting her eyes much more tightly as the pale pink flower came sailing away from her head with the force.

Keeping her right hand pressed against the left side of her head to try and lessen the intensity of that awfully sharp pain she now felt, she tried desperately to stop tears forming in her eyes, before all of a sudden becoming aware that a strong hand was pressing into her back, gently but firmly, just below her wings.

“I’ve got you.” came Clio’s voice from her right-hand side, before her other hand reached up to clear the tears from Aria’s eyes. “You nearly sent yourself right into the water with how hard you pulled on that.”

“It.. was needed..” she replied, somewhat vaguely. Her head was now tilted to be facing Clio’s more directly, allowing her to see her girlfriend’s supportive if slightly concerned expression. She could feel both her arm and her hand on her back now, giving her confidence that she would not fall backwards even if she wasn’t holding herself upright out of tension.

It was then that Aria realised she had one more thing left to do, so she moved her left hand towards Clio’s right. Resting on her open palm was the flower that once rested in the centre of the hairpin she had never been seen without, the blossom’s five pink petals and two green leaves looking delicate and tender in the sunset’s light. As carefully as if she were handling a baby bird, Clio reached out and tentatively lifted up the flower, making sure not to accidentally damage the petals as she took a closer look before then holding it close to her chest. It seemed to attach itself directly to her jacket once she had decided where it would go.

“..Thank you.” was all Aria could say to fill the silence, her voice just as soft as the flower petals felt to touch. The sharpness of the pain was thankfully becoming somewhat duller and less intrusive with time, and Clio’s gesture of bringing the flower to her heart was something she had treasured immensely.

“Don’t worry, shadow. I’ll keep this safe for you.” Clio declared, now placing her hand on her chest next to the flower. “You’ve just got to make sure you stay safe as well.”

“I will. I trust you, clover.” she replied, shifting to more properly reciprocate her girlfriend’s support with a hug. “No matter what the future holds.. No matter how long it takes.. I will reach you, and we’ll both make it past whatever is coming, in our own ways.”

As the last of the sunlight faded, the pair stayed and cherished this moment in each other’s arms.

[vespertine-legacy]

Tagged for WIP Wednesday by @jbnonsensework 💜

uhhhhh tagging people to play along makes me feel ill, because what if you’ve already been tagged? what if me tagging you is annoying? 😭 so if you see this and you have a WIP of any kind you want to share, consider yourself tagged by me

I don’t really have a lot of WIPs that I’m actively working on right now, so I had to dig through my WIP folder a bit to find one that I might be inclined to dust off and. you know. actually work on one of these days.

Have a bit of beyond-AU (it’s like. at least four layers of AU piled into one) with my little feral raccoon of a blueberry Agent:

—

“Cipher! I don’t care what she is to you, if you even try to leave, I will personally destroy you,” Zhorrid’s voice goes shrill, a hand closes claw-like around Raz’s arm, and Raz can hear the crackle of electricity in Zhorrid’s other palm, curled and ready to strike.

Raz does not think, she just moves. Whirling in the Sith’s grip, Raz swings her hand back and slaps Zhorrid across the face as hard as she can, the memory of Zhorrid’s palm striking her own face years before ringing through her skin. The prickling sting in her hand is not as strong as it had been in her cheek at the receiving end of a slap; but the sound is still the same, and Zhorrid’s appalled gasp in the emptiness after the impact warms her unexpectedly. Fully expecting the impact of the lightning still sparking in Zhorrid’s hand, Raz steps back and tries not to look like she’s bracing herself.

“It’s Keeper,” Raz says acidly, when the strike doesn’t come. “You saw to that, remember? And there is nothing you could do to me that would be worse than what I’ve already been through.”

Zhorrid blinks at Raz, wide-eyed, almost looking amused, aside from the angry red welt rising in her cheek.

“And when I walk away from you, you’re not going to attack me. Because I deserve better than that, and you know it.” Raz swallows the urge to gesture in Zhorrid’s face to drive her point home. You’ve won, now get out while you’re ahead, she tells herself.

Turning sharply on her heel, Raz marches out of Zhorrid’s chambers, keeping her head high and her bearing straight as she crosses the atrium of the Sanctum. The walk back to Intelligence has never felt so long, nor the suspended path so high above the street below. Passing the guards at the entrance to Intelligence Headquarters, nodding curtly at a passing Fixer, Raz heads straight for the shelter of her office, making it only as far as the doorway before falling to her knees and retching into a potted plant. The cleaning droids will not appreciate that.

[vaas]

this post will not be coherent i am tired. coeur my friend coeur backstory:

adopted family are ranchers and leather workers/textile manufacturers/artists. they raise head for their skins and sell the meat to nearby settlements and then turn the skins into clothing. same with wasteland flax. they are descendants of people who survived in a pseudo vault (deep basement) underneath a prewar clothing factory. they didnt have any ballistic weapons with them just a loooooot of fabric and fibers and thats all they did for about a generation after the bombs fell and then crawled out and started looking around. very far from epicentre so minimal radiation and surrounding damage. lots of intact machinery and concrete buildings. used as basis for future commune built around it. were aware of ncr but did not petition to join as too far away. not really merchants, though do merchant things. mostly barter rather than amass wealth. will work with anyone who demonstrates need and is respectful including raiders with manners. forced to join once ncr began expanding and eventually came upon their land. now produces textiles and some garments for ncr. are citizens officially. coeur was 14 when annexed and 16 when assigned ncr legal citizenship.

coeur leaves home immediately afterwards to try to outrun the ncr and heads east. she cant take from her family and has very little gear. is aware of how to survive off land cus she has to be. tis not enough. she runs out of water in the desert and begins dying. khan scouts find her collapsed in the desert and get in an argument over her body about whether to take her things or not (its disrespectful vs we need stuff) when she opens her eyes and asks for water. they give her water and ask why shes out there. she tells them shes running from the ncr. khans are like ayyyyyy us too. they let her walk with the main khan group in the back with the kids as functionally a babysitter and seamstress. extend offer to join khans on arrival in mojave. she declines but still sticks around to continue babysitting and making their sick jackets for a while. the ncr arrives in the mojave and the khans go to work. incredibly distressed by this coeur withdraws from the khans and eventually disappears back into the desert before house wakes back up.

[catboii]

← Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 → Full Thread

[Day ####]

In the morning, despite not falling asleep at all, at the sound of her alarm Agent 23 gets up and follows her normal routine, getting up and making coffee while she drops two slices of bread into her toaster. She feeds her dog, Goldie, and ruffles her head fluff while telling her how much better she’s looking. 

When she gets into work, she’s almost dreading going into the chamber with her charge, as she feels like they made so much progress, but it was all dashed in one shocked gasp. 

However, once she’s in the first chamber, the little creature perks its head up, hopping over to the final doorway ready to greet her. She can physically feel the relief flooding her body like adrenaline, from her chest out to her fingers. Every muscle relaxes by the time she’s through the final door, and she reaches her hand out to pet the crow’s head, but instead it flaps its huge wings and jumps onto her forearm. She isn’t expecting it, and it’s a lot heavier than any parrot she’s ever held at the zoo as a teenager, and her arm droops. The creature flaps to stay steady, and she pulls her arm up and out, supporting its weight fully. “Oh. Hi there.” The creature trills and headbutts her in the chin, its fluffy feathers tickling her nose. She feels silly for worrying about anything now, and she starts instead to worry if the creature felt similarly, like maybe while she was gone it had worried that she wouldn’t return. With her other hand, she pets the back of the creature's head, and it butts her chin again, this time keeping it there while she pets it. They stay like that for a while. 

“Crowvid,” she starts, while sitting with her legs outstretched, the creature perched on the tip of one of her shoes. “Is there anything I can bring you? Like the chess set. If I’m allowed to bring you something to play with, so you’re not bored…��� The creature has already hopped down onto the floor, and is now holding out one of its feet, as if clutching something and swirling it. “Are you miming something?” She watches it do this a little longer and tries to guess what it’s trying to say. “Are you stirring something?” It shakes its head and instead of the smooth round swirling motion, it instead swishes its foot around more randomly. “Are you- drawing something?” The creature drops the pose and nods vehemently, hopping up and down with its wings outstretched. “Oh! What are you drawing?” The creature stops and shakes its head again. “You’re… not drawing anything?” She thinks for a moment longer, the crow just looking up at her with its head tilted. “Are you asking me… for something to draw with?” Again it hops up and down nodding. “Ahh! That makes sense. Alright. Wait right here.” As she gets to her feet, the crow hops over to her feet and puts one clawed foot on her shoe, as if to grab her. “What’s wrong? I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?” The crow slowly takes its foot back, and hops back one step. “Alright. Wait here.” She avoids adding ‘like you could go anywhere if you wanted.’ 

In less than twenty minutes, she returns with a sealed packet of printer paper and some marker pens. She had to sign off for each pen individually, but if somehow this creature can draw something recognisable, it would be a big step in the research, and if she can make enough progress with this job, she could even start thinking about putting in for a promotion. The year before she had started thinking about applying to become a researcher, but there was a lot of work you need to do beforehand, and you need to ultimately be referred by your department’s overseer, and they aren’t likely to do that unless you’ve made some waves, and gotten a name for yourself. Before this, she was just another Agent, sat around writing notes about objects that didn’t do anything beyond give some people the creeps. 

She places everything on the floor as she kneels down, still not having the authorisation to bring in a chair. Something about it being too large to account for. The pens roll around on top as she puts it down, and once it’s down and she starts to undo the bottom of the packet, Crowvid tries to pick up one of the markers with its beak, but it can’t quite do it, they’re too round and slippery for it to hold. “Just hold on. I’ll help you in a second, okay?” Once the packet is open, she pulls out a few sheets in one pull, and puts them down between herself and the bird. Crowvid straightens the papers with one foot as it looks at the pens. Agent 23 takes one, pulling off the cap and holding it out at the end so it can take it with its foot like it showed when miming. 

It takes the marker and awkwardly starts trying to draw something. It’s just a bunch of squiggles the best she can tell, and she turns her head from one side to the other, trying to see anything recognisable in it. Eventually the crow drops the marker and digs at the paper, throwing it away as it uncovers the next piece. 23 reaches for the discarded piece and looks it over. She still can’t quite tell if anything is here, but as she looks back to crowvid, it looks like its very carefully marking out shapes. Possibly letters. 

It makes short marks on the paper, dashes, over and over, joining them together to make a shape. It keeps hopping back on one foot, not dropping the marker as it reviews its work from a distance, then going back to it. There’s a recognisable P and R, then a triangle. 23 watches, astonished, as the creature continues to very attentively write out P R A C T in very large letters on the paper. With no more room, it pulls that piece away and gets another ready, although slightly marked from the leak-through, and it finishes the final letters, reading I C E. It drops the marker and pulls that piece away, lining it up with the other, spelling out “PRACTICE”. The animal looks up at Agent 23, whose mouth is open slightly, and it looks proud of itself, if a crow could look proud of itself. 

“You… You just wrote that. ‘Practice’?” She looks on, still stunned. Not only can the creature understand her, but it can write… “Okay. How did you learn to do that?” As far as the paperwork suggests, the creature wasn’t picked up in this country, it was picked somewhere that primarily spoke a form of chinese. If that’s where it was from, how could it write in english? 

The creature hops back over to the pile of papers, picking up the pen and again and with great effort and concentration, dashes out something on the page. This time it doesn’t look like letters at all, just a jumble of curved lines. Eventually it stops, puts the pen down and looks up at Agent 23. She falters as if she’s missing something obvious. “Um. It’s um.”

The creature looks down at the drawing, circling the paper to look at it from her angle. After a moment it goes back to the other side, and starts drawing something else, smaller. It doesn’t pick the pen up so far this time, and seems to be putting more effort into drawing straight lines. After a while, an image starts to appear. “Oh. is it a bed? Do you want a bed?” The crow shakes its head and carries on drawing something else. A small arrow. The arrow is pointing from the bed to the squiggly mess of shapes. “Is it a blanket?” The creature drops the pen and jumps up and down excitedly, letting out a small caw. “Oh, and those are cushions!” It hops up onto her knee and headbutts her in the chin again. “Alright. I’m sorry. It’s a very good picture! I’m just not used to talking to someone like this. I’ll get used to it!” After she finishes saying this, she realises she said ‘someone’, implying that she thinks Crowvid isn’t just ‘something’, but she doesn’t correct herself now. 

Again, she leaves the chamber to go and fetch a blanket, or a sheet of some kind, and some cushions, which is something they definitely have. Some of the Anomalies have certain comfort needs, and so cushions and the like are easy enough to obtain and sign off. Although she does have to sign different kinds of waivers than for the chess set and papers, as cushions and sheets can be dangerous with the risk of smothering or choking. This usually feels condescending, as some of the inanimate objects use cushions because if they’re in contact with certain hard surfaces, they have certain effects, but usually this can be negated with cushions of different materials. Having to sign to say ‘I understand the receiver of this object could smother me or someone with this object and I take responsibility for the consequences’ feels stupid when you’re using it with something like a little wooden box that can’t physically move, and therefore cannot smother you in any way. 

When 23 returns, Crowvid has drawn some other things, some papers strewn about the floor, some apparently ripped up by its claws. She places the blanket and cushions on the floor beside the wall where it normally sits to relax or seemingly sleep, and she wanders around, looking over the doodles. One of the pieces is almost a shape she feels she should recognise, and she notices that its redrawing it, looking back and forth between the two. It’s a rectangle about half the size of the piece of A4, and there are some squiggles around the edges. On the discarded piece there’s another rectangle drawn just inside this, and there are some squares drawn in the middle, with wiggly lines that may indicate words. As she watches it draw the second version, she exclaims, “is that a phone?” 

The bird drops the marker and squeaks in surprise, as if it wasn’t finished and it didn’t think she would figure out what it is. She pets it on the head, thinking. “I’m not sure that I can do that… But I can see what I can negotiate.” At that, the creature pulls away from her hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. At first she thinks it’s thankful, but there’s something in the way it’s stiffened that makes her think something’s wrong, maybe it thinks this is impossible and she’ll get in trouble? So she keeps talking. “I’ll have to get the Overseer to sign off on something like that. Normally it’s only a case of filling out some forms and getting the… Well, someone higher than myself, to approve it. But a phone?” The crow has settled again, and is back within reaching distance, so she returns to petting its head, and it lets her, its feather’s fluffing as it nestles down onto the ground. “I’m sure I can think something up though. I’ll ask when I leave in a bit. My shift is nearly over.” The crow is now half leaning against one of her legs, and she runs her fingertips over the small, soft feathers of its forehead. It closes its eyes under her touch. “Is there something you want it for? Is it for writing on?” The creature shuffles, pulling out one of its legs from under its fluffy body, making the looping gestures that earlier meant ‘drawing’, rather than writing. “Drawing?” It drops its foot and nods slowly, settling again. 

At the end of today’s shift, she scoops the bird up, who flaps uncertainly at the new movement, and she gently places it down on top of the blanket and pillow pile. She pulls at the free side and folds the blanket over the creature’s body, tucking it in crudely. It trills and she smiles down at it. She almost wants to kiss it on the head like she does for her dog when she puts her into bed. But she resists. They’re not quite that close yet.

[starsmuserainbow]

Star (as in, me, the mun) do something without blabbering for double as much as the actual thing challenge.

Seriously. I hate how I always need to add more and more and more and more.

[otaku553]

Long time no one piece spy x family crossover :D

@where-does-the-heart-lie had the excellent idea of ace in a trench coat for his assassin outfit (and their art for it is so cool I am still going insane over it) and it’s just too perfect shfhfdhdhs

More design notes in the readmore!

My hc is that luffy and sabo gave it to ace as a birthday present and sabo was the one with the idea to put flame retardant fabric on the inside since sometimes ace comes home with burns on his arms. He told ace that the jacket would prevent him from getting burnt and ace took that to mean that the entire jacket is fireproof and this is unfortunately not how it works

The additional pompom looking things on Ace’s hat for his assassin outfit are meant to look like fireball lilies! Kind of like how yor’s assassin headband has roses on them I wanted a visual indicator of his codename in his outfit. I think fireball lilies may more often be called blood lilies but I think that’s still rather suitably ominous for the assassin profession :)

[quadrantadvisor]

DPxDC Danny/Jason Soulmates AU WIP

-

Jason's timer read 044389:21:08, when the display suddenly went dark. 44,389 hours. Five years, 24 days, 13 hours, 21 minutes, and 8 seconds until he was fated to meet his soulmate.

Or not. Because the time stopped.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. He did his research, and with the resources at his disposal (namely, a batcomputer,) he knew for a fact that there should be no way to defy the fate of a timer. People had tried. Avoidance, isolation, putting a hit out on your own suspected soulmate. Nothing worked. Trying to delay the inevitable put you on the path to meet it. Sure, there were people who lamented the unfairness of their own situation, who were devastated they never got time with their soulmate, famous deaths on opposite sides of a battle, etc. But soulmates always, always met eachother, face to face.

Not him, though. His soulmate was dead. Five years early.

Bruce didn’t get it. Dick wouldn’t talk about it. Alfred only looked at him with pity in his eyes.

Jason wasn’t sad that he was the only person on the planet who’d never meet his soulmate. He was fucking angry, because it wasn’t fucking fair. It was another person in his life who was supposed to care about him that he’d never get to have.

So when he found out he had a mom, somewhere out there, who he’d never had the chance to meet… he had to go. How could he not?

-

It was Sam who noticed, when it happened. Danny had just finished a stupid fight with Boxy, and he, Sam, and Tucker were finally ready to call it a night. Danny de-transformed and grinned, shaking the thermos proudly. “Gonna get these guys back into the Ghost Zone,” he said, when suddenly-

“Danny!” Sam yelped, and snatched at his arm.

Danny stumbled, nearly dropping his precious cargo. “Whoa, Sam, what-?’ he stopped, looking as she turned over his arm, baring his wrist.

His timer was dark, like people who’s soulmates were dead. The numbers still showed, faintly, but they were stationary. The countdown had stopped.

Ice spread through Danny’s veins, like the cold that rushed through him when he went ghost, but worse, so much worse.

Danny’s ghost form didn’t have a timer, which honestly freaked him out, but as a human it had always behaved completely normally. When he turned back, it would be there, the time having elapsed just the way it was supposed to. It had been so reassuring. He was alive. He’d make it at least five more years, and be able to meet his soulmate, who would hopefully be able to accept him the way he was. He wanted that so badly. He wanted someone beyond his friends to talk to, to know him as a person and a ghost. He wanted to not be afraid anymore.

He’d just passed the five year mark, not that long ago. He’d been so excited to be that much closer to someone so important.

And now something was horribly wrong.

“Dude, that’s jacked up,” Tucker said, noticing the problem with wide eyes.

“Did anything happen today?” Sam asked, her expression hardened with determination. “Did you notice anything weird while you were transformed?”

Danny shook his head. “No, no it- it was running while we were at school, and we’ve been fighting ghosts since then. I don’t know when it would’ve…” Danny could barely make himself speak. “Is it my fault?” he said, almost to himself. “Did I spend too much time as a ghost and it just-”

Sam gripped at his hand. “No, Danny, it isn’t your fault. Whatever the problem is, we’re going to figure it out, okay?”

“Yeah man,” Tucker added, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, maybe your parents can actually help this time? Weird magic science is kinda their thing, right?”

Sam looked less sure, but nodded all the same. “You’re going to meet your soulmate. Okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said, quiet, looking down at the stopped numbers on his wrist.

-

Edit: Added a readmore

[trupowieszcz-moved]

fun facts about (polish) vampire folklore because i'm too autism

(disclaimer: my source for all of this is the book "Upiór. Historia naturalna" by Łukasz Kozak i'm not pulling this out of my ass)

The word "vampire" came from a mistranscribed Serbian word, written down by Austrian officials informing about a panic among the locals, who claimed that during a plague their dead were rising and biting them and spreading the plague further

In Poland, the words used to describe what later transformed into a "vampire" in literature were: upiór (and variations thereof - the word came from Ukrainian, and the Ukrainians got it from Turkish "ubyr"), strzyga (f)/strzygoń (m) and wieszczy (m)/wieszczyca (f). "Upiór" was used in the southeast, "strzyga" around the central regions, "strzygoń" (as well as strzyga) specifically in Lesser Poland (Małopolska) and "wieszczy" in Greater Poland (Wielkopolska) and in Kashubia. "Wąpierz" was not a word until some writer in the 19th century made it up!

The upiór actually very rarely drank blood. It happened, sure, but a much more bloodthirsty creature was zmora/mara. However, upiory often drank milk, stealing it from cows and horses. Both are life-giving bodily fluids, after all.

The above might make you think about witches, who were often blamed with stealing or spoiling milk, and you wouldn't be far off. You see, you had to be born as an upiór (these ones weren't contagiously biting!), and while you were alive, it would give you various magical powers, like clairvoyance and detecting the dead upiory, and so the upiór was practically a synonym of a sorcerer or witch. Of course, the sources vary, but depending on who you asked, they could control weather bringing heavy rains or droughts, see the future, know literally everything and so on. Those so-called "living vampires" knew who they were since birth and were often helpful, until they died.

After an upiór died, that's when the bad things happened. They disappeared from their graves, destroyed churches, broke candles, brought plague upon the people, scared their neighbors, and if one puffed in your face, you would soon die. They were said to be able to walk around with their decapitated head, so anti-vampiric burials often had to be very thorough and decapitation wasn't enough.

The signs that were supposedly telling of a living vampire were, among others: being born with teeth, being born in a caul, not having armpit or pubic hair BUT having a hairy chest, not having undergone confirmation (i'll come back to that in a moment), having a very red face and easily and often blushing (not being pale!), or being born with a deformed foot.

Not having participated in the confirmation sacrament was especially damning, because it was believed that upiory had two souls (and two hearts). When they were baptized, only one soul was being saved, and the confirmation sacrament was supposed to protect the second soul. This, of course, was extremely against the catechism, so the first "official", church-related sources recording those beliefs had to invent another "backstory" for upiory, and they claim that an upiór is a dead person specifically, who was given to the devil at birth, the baptism saving their soul, but their body still belonging to the dark forces, which was why they rose from their graves - the devil basically hijacked their corpses.

I won't make this post much longer but I will GLADLY answer any questions because this is my special interest and I just came back from an exhibition where the author of the aforementioned book talked about all of that so. me right now ⬇️ (readmore so you dont get continuously blased with the gif under it)

[myuminji]

Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]

[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.

Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.

Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.

He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.

The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.

Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"

He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"

Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."

Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."

A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."

Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"

Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"

Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."

Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."

He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"

Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"

Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"

Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"

Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"

He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"

Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."

The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."

Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"

Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.

"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]

[link to Image ID reblog post!]

[pillowspace]

Celestial Sundown AU Eclipse

I designed the fella that's been rattling around my brain for the past week. I am gently holding him out to you, please treat him with love and care

He is made up of the sun and moon gods Sunna and Meno, not Day and Night. Yeah, my AU gets TWO sets of Daycare Attendants, look at me go

--- readmore ---

Sun and Moon are the gods of day and night, but they're only called Sun and Moon in certain cultures, one of those being your own. Technically, though it holds great importance to their roles, they are not, in title, the actual gods of the sun and the moon. Eclipse is a fusion between the sun god and the moon god, Sunna and Meno.

Meno was mistakenly created very weak, and was sure to pass away in many, many years. When they created the sun god, Sunna was made to be twice as strong, so that when Meno inevitably ceased to be, Sunna would still be able to use the day to push the night away and continue the sun and moon's cycle after its counterpart was gone. This was agreed upon, and understood.

They ended up loving each other very deeply over the years, though. And so when the moon's life finally came to an end, the sun refused and used all of the doubled power it was created with to fuse the moon's life to its own. Sunna turned the two of them into a horrible, painful abomination of all eyes just to keep his loved one alive. The other gods attempted to destroy this form multiple times, but Sunna would always piece their form back together again until they stopped trying. Eclipse was instead locked away until he woke back up, hence the broken chains.

Their dynamic has since then grown strained within their shared body, Meno insistent that they just rest already and to stop messing with the natural order of things. We prepared for this, you knew this would happen. Why would you do this to us now? And Sunna adamant that Meno is GOING to survive, no matter what. They often argue, frustrated in their poorly-made existence, but they still love each other more than anything, and will frequently remind each other that they do and always will.

Sunna is often more in control of the body than Meno is, but Meno still unconsciously affects the body's behaviours and mannerisms. Eclipse can still be referred to as one person, because Sunna and Meno can slip into the background and merge their personalities into one. Sunna's extreme will to survive combined with Meno's lack of mortal fear can make Eclipse... a tad feral, if you will.

Sun and Moon (also known as Day and Night) were created because of this, and were somewhat based off of Sunna and Meno in creation. The day and night cycle came to a halt without the sun and moon gods, and so Day and Night were created to put things back in working order.

You meet Eclipse while searching the Celestial Realm for Sun, temporarily mistaking Eclipse for him instead.

Guy who makes you think of Golden Antlers by Glass Animals and Evelyn Evelyn.

[theskit]

Stickers AU

Anyone linking here from the previous posts or wanting to use the links on this post to go back/forward to the other parts and not wanting to spoil the surprise stickers, after using the link, click on my blog name to go to the actual post, as direct linking takes away the readmore cut. I'll take this out and fix it if I can find out how. Sorry!

Part 6

《Prev Next》

Danny floated along as he caught his breath. Okay, so jump scaring the Red Hood *might* not have been the best plan he'd ever come up with, but man, was it funny!

It was getting kind of late, though. He should probably start making his way back to the hotel. Any more vigilante pranks would have to wait for another time. Good thing the conference was on a long weekend. He had one more night to try his luck before they left Monday afternoon for the drive back to Amity.

Pulling up the map on his phone, Danny started making his way back. Just over halfway there, he jolted to a stop, catching sight of a rippling back shadow. Batman's distinctive silhouette was marked briefly against a building wall before being almost lost again in the perpetual dimness of the city rooftops at night.

Well, well, well, looks like he might have the chance to bag all the bats and birds of Gotham in one night, leaving tomorrow to hunt down in Bludhaven for Nightwing.

Eeeeexcellent. Danny pulled himself straight in mid-air, steepling his fingers and druming them together in classic Evil Villian style, grinning in a manner that would have shown entirely too many teeth had he been visible.

Now, this would require *true* stealth if he wanted to both get a sticker onto Batman's utility belt, as well as help himself to a batarang or two. Because Ellie was right, there would be no greater souvenir from his time in Gotham than a batarang from *the* Batman himself.

Choosing a sticker and prepping it, Danny sidled up to where Batman was staring down at a building that was probably not as vacant as it looked if it called for that much concentration. All the better for him if Batman was distracted though.

Moving by inches, carefully controlling his breathing so as not to make a sound, Danny made it to Batman's side. Batman was... probably? right handed, most people were, so he was gunna make an educated guess that the sharp throwing objects would be on the left side of the belt.

Getting ready to make the grab and stick, Danny nearly jumped out of his skin as Batman moved his arm and draped his cape over the space where Danny was standing intangibly right next to him, in a gesture that seemed more ingrained habit than conscious thought.

O-KAY! Time to go before Batman had a chance to recognize that there was no one where he very obviously expected someone to be. Robin, maybe?

Thoughts to think another time! Moving with all the speed and precision he could muster while his heart was still attempting to leave the city without him, Danny swiped one hand through a series of belt pouches while the other oh-so-gently tapped a sticker to the front buckle.

Not even stopping to see what it was he'd swiped, Danny made a quick exit, stage left, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

Batman was jolted out of his concentration when he felt a nudge at his belt as his cape settled against his side once more. Whirling to the left, he scanned the rooftop but saw no one.

Which was entirely unexpected as his instincts were *sure* a small presence had been snug up to his side, like a young Dick or Tim when they got tired or a bit overwhelmed while on patrol and wanted to hide in his cape.

But neither Dick nor Tim, or even Damian (though Damian had never actually done so) was small or young enough to have done that in *years*.

A quick inspection found his belt pouches missing a handful of batarangs, some candy he kept on hand to help soothe distressed children, and the extra just-in-case comm unit. As well as the addition of a glowing sticker, much like the one currently decorating the batmobile, somehow placed on the buckle despite him neither seeing or hearing anything.

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort

[foone]

I'm surprised there's not more supernatural spaceship media. Like, your average little cargo ship is jumping around the outer rim trying to cut some time off their delivery route and they pick up a distress call, so they have to answer it.

(under a readmore cause this got a little longer than I expected)

They warp in to the approximate coordinates and there's a colony ship orbiting a gas giant, stuck in the shadow of it, basically frozen over. It's centuries old, but these sleeper ships from the pre-ftl era were built to last, so it's still broadcasting the SOS. It's not responding to radio, so they need to board it.

Normally this'd just involve turning off the SOS. The ship is clearly dead and not responding to any hails, the crew must be long gone and the reactor is just keeping the SOS going. But this is a sleeper ship, so it's possible there's just no one awake. Stuck in longsleep for god knows how many decades, waiting for someone to stumble on their signal...

So they board it, activate the computer, and it tells them that everyone is dead. The ship launched, and over the 358 years it's been traveling for, every single cryo chamber has been either opened or never had any lifesigns in it in the first place. The last event logged on the computer is 136 years ago, when the acting captain set the ship to orbit this gas giant, and turn on the distress signal. Since then, nothing.

But there's still power on the bridge. There may be something there. So they climb up the decks, passing the grim sight of endless rows of cryochambers lined up like tombstones, all showing red lights of lifesign failure. As they get closer to the bridge, the time of deaths get later. The ones on the first deck were close to the launch date, and the ones near the bridge are nearer to that 136 year ago deadline.

This wasn't a hardware failure. Something killed all these people, one by one, over 220 years.

They get to the bridge. The computers are all powered down, but the power management system is still active. Two of the decks still have their cryochambers powered, but it's the ones that were supposed to be empty. There's no lifesigns in them, so the little computer in the power diagnostic system has been recommending they be turned off to save on energy. Naturally it's been recommending that for three and a half centuries. One of the crew members almost absent-mindedly agrees to the prompt, and those cryochambers deactivate. They were empty anyway, right? The sound of humming from the bridge mostly fades away, as a few hundred cryopods on the deck below power down.

The boarding crew powers off the SOS beacon. They'll alert the authorities to the ship's location when they get to a port, surely someone wants to investigate what went wrong here, or at least do an archeological study. This place is beyond an antique at this point... Wait. What's that?

The power computer says there's still one active power draw, about 1.2 kilowatts, in the captain's quarters. That's too much for a personal computer, but just about right for a single cryo pod. Maybe the captain or someone is still alive? That pod isn't on the network, so they can't see the lifesigns from here.

They head over, and the bulkhead door is still cracked open, with a thick cable running in through the gap in the door. Whoever wired this up clearly didn't have time to correctly reroute the power systems, they just lugged a cryo pod in here and basically ran an extension cord to a nearby terminal.

They pry open the door, and there's a softly glowing cryo pod in the middle of the surprisingly spacious room. It makes some amount of sense, generally on these ships the captain would be the one who has to wake up and deal with any situations that arise, while the rest of the colonists are content to sleep until they reach their new home.

They look in the pod, and there's a man lying there. He's not the captain, though. They saw his photo on the bridge. This is someone else. Some one quite pale and gaunt. Maybe they were suffering malnutrition before they put themselves in the pod?

The pod is softly beeping. It's reactivating, apparently triggered when they opened the door. The pod shows no lifesigns, so it's not worth worrying about, the panel sliding over to reveal merely a well preserved corpse.

And then he smiles. "I'm so glad to see you! When we ran out of food we we're afraid we'd never see another human again. And even through those environment suits, I can tell you're so deliciously human." he licks his lips, and the boarding crew spots his prominent canines.

There's a noise halfway between a howl and a shriek from the floor below. The man in the cryopod leans up his head. "ahh, I see you've woken up my children as well. Marvelous. I hope you brought plenty of friends for us to snack on."

The head of the boarding party lifts her arm to call their ship, tell them to get out of there or drop a torpedo into the colony ship's reactor. Before she can bring it to her face to call, there's a flash of motion. Before she can even realize what's happening, the man(?) in the cryopod is up and holding her wrist away from her face.

As she cries out at the sudden pain, the other members of the boarding party spot movement down the hall. A lot of movement. A wall of thin pale people are running towards the captain's quarters, climbing over each other and pushing each other aside, like a pack of wild wolves who just smelled prey.

The boarding party steps back into the room and slams the emergency close. At least in here they only have to deal with one of those things.

The door hits the cable and bounces off with a loud alarm. It fully opens again, ready to let the hungry mass in.

So... Have you ever noticed how much a cryopod looks like a coffin?

[mintyeggs]

DUMPSTER ARTHUR LORE

My version of Arthur Lester, or I guess now he's officially going to be known as dumpster Arthur (sorry man), has essentially the same storyline up until the Dreamlands, where the slight canon divergences start, culminating in the deal made with Kayne in Addison, with a very different "catch" as payment for John's return.

This is a bit of a long one, so click the readmore!

CW: cannibalism, autocannibalism, self harm, starvation, all canon typical shit

Starting with the prison pits in the Dreamlands!

Instead of giving in to killing and eating Faust after learning about what he'd done, Arthur held out a little longer by eating bits of himself. He has bite scars on his right arm and his legs, all avoiding the parts of himself that John can feel.

John was not exactly psyched about Arthur having to do this, especially because it takes a lot out of his friend; not just physically. He even tried offering Arthur his arm instead so the poor guy wouldn't feel it, but Arthur adamantly refused, because he'd already bitten John once before (their pinky) and was pretty horrified at how right it felt to have flesh between his teeth.

He doesn't talk to John about that, though, especially while they're still fighting about John's outburst about Faroe. John remains relatively in the dark about Arthur's internal struggle eating human flesh, even his own, since it's kind of hard to tell if he's feeling more fucked up than usual given their situation.

The altercation with Faust ends up pretty much the same way, Arthur broke and attacked him, forcing John to relive his death while he ate. John does start to notice something is off with Arthur psychologically at this point, though he assumes it's because Arthur has just killed and eaten someone for the first time.

They also do not talk about this because Arthur refuses (mostly out of shame and fear that John will think he's a monster haha)

Given how long Arthur was able to hold out before killing Faust, they're in the prison pits for about a month longer than in canon, and upon escape, Arthur doesn't feel the same amount of hope at their future.

Things proceed pretty close to canon at this point, they meet Kayne, they get their shit wrecked by the King, Arthur cuts his own throat, John gives himself up to save Arthur's life, etc etc.

The one big difference here is something the King says to taunt Arthur; he mentions that Arthur has come closer to knowing his form of love than any human ever has, and it has scarred Arthur permanently, even if he doesn't see it yet.

Now, to Addison!

Upon landing in the cabin and calling Kayne, Arthur is presented with a different option; get John back, safe and sound, memories intact. However, when asking about the catch, Kayne says something along the lines of "you'll have your golden boy back, but part of you will forever remain in the pit".

Kayne here just kind of wants to fuck with Arthur and watch him like a TV show, so this is more entertainment than anything power-seeking; Nyarlathotep (who I assume Kayne actually is) delights in cruelty and causing madness. Note, Kayne doesn't actually do anything to Arthur here, he's just kind of exacerbating Arthur's self doubt about his own humanity and sanity. No worse enemy than one's own mind, after all.

Kayne also does inform Arthur that John is in the Dark World! This obviously sways Arthur's decision quite a bit, and he immediately agrees to Kayne's terms, even assuming part of himself would be sent back to the prison pits, John not being alone in the Dark World is worth it to him.

Some of the main consequences to this decision!!

Arthur isn't really able to come to terms with John intrinsically being a part of the King in Yellow, and neither is John!

Arthur still very much views John as something that never was and can never be the King in Yellow, so he holds him to those standards, making some of their fights while in Addison have a different flavor to them.

In the same vein, John isn't able to have that "aha" moment of accepting his past as part of him, instead continuing to fight tooth and nail against the things he thinks are something the King would do.

As such, when Arthur snaps again and attacks Larson, and starts his descent towards bedrock in the mines under Addison, John is much harsher towards him, starting to see Arthur as the monster the King in Yellow is.

This culminates in Arthur killing Uncle, where another big problem makes itself apparent; the smell of blood makes Arthur painfully hungry, and he realizes this is what Kayne meant when talking about the part of him left in the pits.

Arthur reverts to his old habit of satiating his hunger here, and John sees him bite himself again, this time as a form of self-harm and what Arthur thinks is due punishment for becoming a monster, and they have their heart to heart about reaching bedrock.

John definitely knows something is up at this point, and is quick to reassure Arthur that they'll kill Larson, but they need to save the people of Addison first, if only to prove to Arthur that he's not the monster that either of them thought he was. John also comes to the realization that he might've been the cause for all of this; he remembers how the King said that knowing his love had scarred Arthur permanently.

So, after freeing Addison, John's main focus becomes separating them again, but this time it's for Arthur's own sanity. They do learn about the order of the fallen star, which John thinks is a better lead for separating them than searching for Anna Stanzyck.

That leaves us where most of my drawings of Dumpster Arthur are set timeline wise! They're in New York, grappling with Arthur's growing hunger and self-harm habits and finding a way to separate them, something Arthur is getting less and less willing to do, given as John is pretty much the only thing holding him together now.

I'm working on a comic about them finding a vessel for John, the construct body built by a fringe cult worshiping Hastur. This essentially is just an anchor for John, while he's still bound to Arthur, that body does give him autonomy and allows him to project without causing Arthur any stress (beyond emotional).

All of this is kind of subject to change, but a couple people in the tags of some of my art pointed out how interesting it is to focus on Arthur becoming more of a monster, something I definitely am going to explore a bit :^)

As a reward for finishing reading my very long brain vomit dump, have some fun(ish) Dumpster Arthur facts!

he wears a trench coat way too big for him because he thinks it makes him look bigger and more intimidating. john does not have the heart to tell him it just makes him look like a really sad wet cat

john takes on a bit more of a caretaker role for arthur when they reach new york! part of learning his own humanity comes with caring for someone else the way Lily cared for them in the hospital.

arthur also does have some nerve damage at this point in his right arm, so he does kind of twitch and shiver like a chihuahua when it gets particularly bad

john and arthur create a version of asl meant for one-handed signing, though it's rather hodge-podge to anyone who signs traditional asl. this allows john to communicate without arthur translating (noel has a bit of trouble reading the signs at first but learns quick) and also allows arthur to communicate silently with john.

[layton-heritage-posts]

So, what did you think of that Level-5 vision?

Oh I think of that Vision alright. Putting it all under the readmore for people who couldn’t watch the vision yet:

Right of the bat, we get introduced to our antagonist and the big bad scary spooky mystery. Cowboy Ghost.

So this design obviously goes hard but would go harder of he was a woman. It’s kinda giving Specter’s Call vibes, but maybe that’s just me. Can’t wait for the explanation they come up for this, but then again, I feel like a ghostly appearance should be somewhat easier to explain than like, idk, making theme park visitors suddenly disappear.

Also. There was this snippet of text:

Is that some motivation? Probably! I’m intrigued.

Next, we got some new locations in steam bison. Did I say that I loved this place yet? I love that place. I am not immune to cool cluttered illogically built steampunk city.

But we not only get to see more of the city, but also more of its citizens. And I'm happy to say that the character designs in Layton games are still. Like that.

Great and stylized designs, as always. I'm so glad that this element of the games is still here.

Damn. I already hit 10 images. This will continue in a reblog.