#i was probably also very happy about being able to change my shape

[averagebakedpotato]

i had this dream where i was able to change shape into whatever i wanted so i kept being anything other than my real shape and people kept wondering aloud if i was really a woman or a man and i was the happiest whenever i heard them say that

[takeme-totheworld]

You Can't Go Home Again

I'm someone who walked away from my childhood religion almost twenty years ago, and I'm very firmly at a place in my life now where I am very happy to be through with it and have zero lingering desire to go back. I've also been out as some kind of queer person for the same almost-twenty years, and I've been out as trans for almost fifteen of those years.

If you knew absolutely nothing else about me or my life except for those major plot points, and the fact that I'm a Good Omens fan, it would be reasonable to assume that I would identify with Crowley far more than Aziraphale. At least at this point in my life. And in fact, I've seen many fans with backgrounds similar to mine say that they used to be much more like Aziraphale when they were younger, but nowadays they see far more of themself in Crowley. Which makes sense, as a trajectory for people who grew up in controlling religions and then left!

I've been trying to figure out what it is about me that makes me so automatically take Aziraphale's perspective when watching this show, even though the most aggressively Aziraphale time of my life was literal decades ago now. And I think that's probably a very complicated answer, but I realized today that I see an emotional struggle happening in him that I still wrestled with for years and years after leaving the church before I was finally able to completely put it to rest—the struggle to accept that some things can never go back to the way they were.

I seriously suffered so much over this for so long after I left the church. Despite all the damage it had done to me, my entire life had been intertwined with the church and a lot of things that were good—or at least deeply comforting in their familiarity—had also been a part of that. I had plenty of genuinely happy memories all mixed together with the harmful ones (which, in case you were wondering, is confusing as hell). There were fundamental human needs that I had only ever gotten met through the church, and as double-edged as what the church provided was, it was all I knew. Learning to get those needs met in new ways was much healthier, but it wasn't what I had always known growing up and it was a loss.

And I spent a long time refusing to fully accept that going back to any version of Christianity or the church just...wasn't ever going to be in the cards for me.

That is in the cards for some people, I know. Some folks who leave or get kicked out of ultra-dogmatic and controlling churches eventually find new homes in much more progressive and nurturing ones. And that's great! But that was never going to be my path. The process of seeing my childhood religion for what it truly was, losing my beliefs, leaving everything the church was to me further and further behind, and gradually learning who I was without it, changed me too much for me to ever be able to go back again.

I am fine with that now. More than fine. I'm healthier and happier now than I've ever been. Over time I grew into a version of myself that no longer has a church/religion/faith-shaped gaping wound in my life I'm trying to fill. But it was hard and painful and it took a really long time for me to get there. I spent a lot of my twenties and even a bit of my early thirties trying to find something...some new church community that I could be connected to in some way, that would give me back some of what I'd lost when I left my childhood church. But none of them ever did. I was never going to get the same things out of belonging to a church again, because I wasn't the same.

You can't go home again.

I see Aziraphale on that same journey and that's part of what makes my heart automatically go out to him and hurt for him, over and over again. He's still desperately holding onto the idea of a hypothetical version of Heaven and being an angel that can be home again one day. One where all the good things he remembers are still there, and still every bit as good, and all the bad parts have been fixed or gotten rid of, so that being there will be like the old times, only even nicer.

Except that even if he actually succeeded at somehow making Heaven the exact flavor of like-the-old-times-only-even-nicer that he is imagining, it wouldn't matter. Heaven is not his home anymore. He's already changed too much to be able to go back. He just hasn't accepted that yet.

[fellthemarvelous]

Invisible scars

(TW: religious trauma)

Looking at me, you wouldn't know that I've survived religious trauma. The marks of religious trauma are seldom visible. In fact, I had no idea for the longest time that I had religious trauma (I thought it was a thing that happened to other people). I simply spent decades questioning the reasons I felt like I was so broken on in the inside. I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and why I never felt happy or like I was never able to connect to anyone. I had no idea that my experience with the church as a small child is what shaped me into the anxiety-ridden, majorly depressed disaster creature I am today.

I spent 12 years learning inside of Catholic schools. It has taken me more than 20 years to process and deconstruct, and I am always going to be a work in progress. I was brainwashed into believing the very worst about myself, and I was always just beyond saving because I had the misfortune of being a woman in a church that taught us that women experience pain during childbirth as a natural consequence of Eve eating the apple, which is why they enjoy making us suffer in the first place. They taught us that Adam ate the apple because Eve seduced him, so even though Adam also ate the apple, his sin still wasn't as bad as Eve's because she did it first and used sex to get him to do the same. They placed the blame for Original Sin squarely on Eve and thus onto every single girl who entered the church. If a boy did something to me that I didn't like, it's probably because I did something to provoke him first.

Do you know what I learned to do at a very young age just to be able to cope with that?

I learned to use humor to deflect when I was struggling. I smile when I don't want people to know I'm sad. I laugh at inappropriate times, especially when I'm uncomfortable. I learned to bottle up all of my emotions because expressing anything other than happiness is bad. I learned to compartmentalize. I taught myself how to pull out the right emotion for the right occasion because I was always striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. It was exhausting.

In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to figure out which parts of me are really me and which parts of me are things that were put into my head. If you've experienced indoctrination, you know what I'm talking about. They pulled us apart as small children and placed us in specific boxes and told us that deviating from the norm was bad.

Crowley is a fallen angel. His change from angel to demon is drastic on the outside.

You know he fell and that his wings turned black and he ended up in a pool of boiling sulfur. It's the reason Crowley is so easy to sympathize with. He suffered unfairly because of arbitrary rules that deemed him unforgivable. He's accepted that part of himself. He's clever and creative and it has helped him find ways to get out of doing his job for centuries. Hell doesn't care how jobs get done just as long as someone does them, and at this point humanity is doing more to damn themselves than the demons are able to keep up with. They're tired and overworked. Hell is overpopulated even though it should be infinite in size. Crowley wants no part of that system because he sees it for what it is, just as he sees Heaven for what it is. He has the marks to prove that he is one of the damned, but that has given him all the perspective he needs to see that both sides are fucked up and toxic and "irredeemable" (just like him). He has yet to fully let go of the hold Heaven has over him because of how badly he got hurt.

Aziraphale is still an angel.

He never fell, and he doesn't know why. He has lied to God. He has lied to Gabriel repeatedly. He lies to protect Crowley. He lies to protect humanity.

Remember, Crowley and Aziraphale started off in the same place.

They both started off as angels who were created to do God's bidding. Aziraphale is the one who told Crowley what he'd heard about everything shutting down in 6,000 years. He was simply trying to make conversation. He didn't think it was something Crowley would object to. Angels were just supposed to go along with God's plans, but Crowley had a different opinion and was vocal about it. Where did Aziraphale get his information in the first place? Why does nobody ever ask this question?

Aziraphale knows Heaven is toxic. He's not blind. We need to move past this idea that because he still has love for God that he doesn't know Heaven is fucked up. He never fell, and it's something he still fears because who the hell doesn't fear the thought of eternal torment, especially if you know it's real? God has never cast him out of Heaven though and he doesn't know why. It's probably something that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

Letting go is not an easy task. Aziraphale has always been an angel. He didn't have his identity ripped from him the same way that Crowley did. Crowley had to adapt to a brand new way of existing because he was cast out of Heaven.

Crowley's trauma is evident on the outside. Aziraphale's trauma is hidden on the inside. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Crowley was an angel and then he was a demon, but he doesn't want to be labeled as either.

Aziraphale has only ever known how to be an angel. He's only ever known the ways of Heaven.

I'm only in my early 40s. It has taken me 20+ years to undo 12 years of religious abuse. Aziraphale is immortal. He and Crowley have abandoned their jobs, but four years in the space of millions isn't a lot. No one overcomes indoctrination in four years. Especially when you had millions of years of blind obedience indoctrinated into you. It simply does not work that way no matter how much you want to believe it can.

It has taken me more than two decades to learn how to stop hating myself. I still have no idea how to love myself, but it's something I'm trying to learn.

My entire identity was wrapped up in what the church told me it would be. Once I fully denounced it and all organized religion, I found out I had no idea who I was. No one had prepared me for a life outside of this one very specific identity and role that I was expected to fill based on a very specific box I was placed into.

I still struggle with black and white concepts. It's hard to unlearn when you have no other basis for comparison, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. It means that these changes do not and will not ever happen overnight.

The fall didn't just affect the demons though. It affected the angels as well. Look at how tightly wound the angels are. They're always trying to do the good thing, but they have no idea what that actually means, and you realize this when Uriel asks The Metatron if they had done something wrong. They are scared of making mistakes, but none of them know what they are supposed to be doing since Gabriel disrupted the status quo. You can see they are unsure of themselves and of each other. The concept of free will is so foreign to them, but Aziraphale showed all of them that it was in their grasp when he allowed Gabriel and Beelzebub to decide where to go so they could be together.

It takes a lot of audacity (and sheer ignorance) to dismiss Aziraphale as power-hungry and abusive.

Aziraphale did nothing to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub. He allowed them to leave because they were in love with each other, and he knows what that feels like. He thought he was about to get the same fate with Crowley until The Metatron showed up and refused to take no for an answer.

He doesn't want to fix Heaven because he thinks it's perfect. If he thought it was perfect he wouldn't want to fix it.

Aziraphale is going back into the Lion's Den. He knows what he's going up against. He's been humiliated and belittled and abused by Heaven for thousands of years.

His scars are there even though you can't see them, and he hides his pain with humor and silliness.

When I see people advocating for Aziraphale to suffer even more because they don't think he has suffered enough, I find myself sitting back in one of those classrooms in Catholic school being told that I deserve the bad things that happen to me because I somehow failed to measure up to some impossible metric. The cruelty of that mindset aimed at Aziraphale is kinda the reason Crowley hates Heaven in the first place because he's been there too.

And as someone who is processing religious trauma, it's disheartening to see people say that because Aziraphale has yet to fully let go of Heaven that he deserves harsher treatment. Crowley would definitely not agree with that sentiment.

[obae-me]

A Winter Weekend- FT. The Dateables

Happy holidays everyone! And happy new year! Thank you for waiting for this late little post. I'm feeling much better, and technically I finished this before it hit midnight my time, so it counts! Stay warm and stay healthy this new year! (Also I didn't comb through this as thoroughly as I usually do, so sorry for any mistakes!)

“I thought you said this was a little winter cabin.” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up and down as you observed the building.

Diavolo pursed his lips, confused at your question. “It is,” he stated while grinning, puffing out his chest a little as he took a deep breath in of the crisp winter air. He seemed to be thriving being let loose from the castle and RAD. This peace was well deserved. The prince had been holed up in his office doing paperwork for probably three days straight just to be able to have a little bit of a vacation. It had gotten to the point where even Lucifer and Barbatos were almost concerned with the amount of work he was doing. A sight to behold indeed.

The snow was falling softly today, just enough to engulf the world in that perfect veil of white. The ground was pillowy beneath your feet, the visible breath billowing from your lips swirling into the sky, disturbing the flakes around you and making them dance down to the earth. A few others were taking in the view as well as they trudged through the snow to stand beside you.

A very amused hum was heard as Solomon strutted up to your side, adjusting the strap of a large duffel bag across his shoulders. A knowing side glance was cast at you. “And what a grand ‘little cabin’ it is.”

Before you sat a pristine and modern looking wooden chalet, clean stone pathing working it’s way up to the small steps leading up to the door. Lights were dripping from every frame and railing, twinkling in a magical way. It was about three stories high, with an L shaped pool near the side, properly positioned so you could look out over the mountain. Steam rolled up from the surface of the water. Seemed it was fully heated.

Rich people… If this was a homely winter cabin, you were curious to see what the prince might consider a shed.

A gloved hand gingerly brushed some snowflakes from off your head, trailing down your hair before taking your luggage from you. Barbatos walked in front of all the guests, gesturing for you all to follow. “If you’ll come with me, everything has been prepared for you all.”

You, Solomon, Simeon, and Diavolo all headed inside behind the butler. A pleasant warmth washed over you all as you took refuge from the cold. The scent of freshly baked goods and spices filled the air as a tingling sensation ran through the back of your head. Garlands, wreathes, LEDS, candles, anything one might imagine as winter decor coated the spaces, but not enough to make it feel cluttered. The building simply felt…full, in the best of ways. Comfort. Nostalgia. Somehow these demons managed to harness the essence of the holidays.

Diavolo was positively beside himself with joy. Freed from the shackles of responsibility, surrounded by what some down here might consider a more human aesthetic, he beamed brightener than the lights around him. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been up here. It feels wonderful to have a change of pace for a while, wouldn’t you all agree?”

“I can’t imagine a more magical place to spend the winter.” Simeon’s eyes were shining, shutting the door behind you all as he came up to you and took your coat.

“Let me handle the courtesy.” Barbatos took two steps closer, his hand wrapping around the other sleeve of your outerwear.

The angel grinned with a little chuckle. “I don’t mind. Besides, Diavolo already told you, this is your vacation too. Relax a little.” They both stared at each other with pleasant smiles, neither of them backing away, both of them making you feel like quite the unwrapped gift as they nearly tore you out of your coat.

When you had heard of this idea, you had been glad to be invited along. Desperate even. It wasn’t everyday you had the opportunity to go somewhere without the brothers. And while you adored them dearly, you knew it would be nice to have a switch in scenery. To feel like you could have a breath on your own at least. Not have to worry about breaking up any fights…Besides, you would all be back before the official holiday to spend time with everyone, so you didn’t feel like you were leaving them behind. But… perhaps you had been too overzealous in imagining you’d get complete peace… You were ten minutes in now and already were having two otherworldly beings hissing over your coat. To the public eye, it didn’t seem like they were having a confrontation, but you knew these men well enough to know they were sparring and sparking behind the polite words. They were no better than the brothers… And these were considered the calmer of the bunch… and now here they were. Bickering over your attention like spoiled fanboys.

Despite nearly being pulled in half, you thanked both of them and tapped the snow off your shoes, taking off the boots and setting them in the walkway before heading into the living space. An enormous U-shaped couch was settled in front of a cozy modern fireplace, fully controllable with a few buttons, a flat-screen television mounted on the wall just above it. A rounded wooden chandelier was hung from wooden rafters, the lights coming from fake candles lined along the rim. One of the side walls was covered in windows, allowing a beautiful view of the snow-covered mountainside. You could just imagine coming down in the morning, a hot beverage in hand while you curled up in the corner of the couch… Getting sucked into hell was perhaps one of the better things to happen to you.

While you were lost in thought, a set of arms came up from behind you and wrapped around your waist. You chuckled, leaning into the warm body as their chin rested on your head.

Diavolo sighed heavily, nearly slumping on you with his full body, just keeping enough of his own weight on his feet to keep from crushing you entirely. He was exhausted. He needed this time away more than anyone. You could only hope he would be able to fully enjoy himself without the added pressures of his princedom. “I’m so happy you accepted my invitation,” he muttered.

“Accepting the invite was the easy part.” Leaning back into him, you chuckled to yourself. “Keeping seven people from climbing into my suitcase when my back was turned was the harder task.”

He almost snorted a little at that but kept quiet. It had been difficult not bringing them along, you knew that. But you were glad he was keeping things smaller. Although you still didn’t quite consider this quaint… “You’ll have to tell me everything humans do for the winter holiday.” He gave you a little squeeze before walking up to the windows, staring down at the snow-covered trees. “We could do it all! Sledding, snowball fights, snow…stuff.” It was hard to tell if his lack of knowledge on the topic was due to him being a demon or due to him being a sheltered blue-blood. Probably both. He turned back to you, a curious look on his face. “What’s the difference between a snowman and a snow-angel? Do you have any snow-demons?”

“A snowman is when you roll snow up into different balls and stack them. Then you can decorate them. A snow angel is when you lie down and wave your arms and legs to…” The jumping jacks you were trying to do couldn’t quite translate like you were hoping. With a grin, you grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the front door. Simeon and Barbatos were still having a deep discussion over the intricacies of coat-taking when you barged back in, taking your coat and boots back and dragging the prince out the door, leaving the two confused. From inside, you could hear Solomon gladly making fun of them both as they were all shut out.

Letting go of Diavolo’s hand, you stepped away from him, testing the deepness and comfort levels of the snow before letting gravity do the rest. Your body hit the ground with a gentle cushioned thud. Shouting your name, the demon panicked, sprinting to your side just as you started moving your arms and legs back and forth, side to side, to make a snow-angel. He sighed first, relieved, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of the fact that the Prince of demons would be so genuinely worried over your wellbeing. Diavolo tilted his head at you as you carefully rolled out of the imprint, staggering backwards. His hand came to your waist to steady you, lightly chuckling as he brushed the snow off the back of your head. “So, this is a snow-angel?”

“Yeah. You got the wings and the dress…robe…thing.”

“I see.” His face was filled with an endearing amusement, taking in the sight genuinely with a nod. “I can envision it. And a snowman?”

Under your instruction, you both rolled up a few snowballs, stacking them on top of one another till a decently sized snowman was made, just about your height. “Then you can dress him up, use branches for hands, let your artistic mind guide you.” You observed the base of your snowman rather proudly.

“And, what about a snow-demon?”

Your face frowned a bit. “We don’t really have snow-demons.”

Instead of being sad about it, the prince just nodded. “Not surprising. Humans consider this time of year to be more holy after all.”

After a moment of thought, you had a little idea. Bending down, you scooped some snow into your hands and worked to make a cone shape in your palms. You set it on the snowman’s head and quickly made another one, doing the same thing. Then you took two steps back, grinning up at Diavolo with a gestured hand. “Ta-Da. A snow-demon.” The only thing you had done was add two lopsided ‘horns’ that looked more like cat-ears, but it caused Diavolo to erupt in joyful howling.

“I guess that means humans and demons are not so different then. I like the thought of that!” His words were warm as he spoke, suddenly moving about in quick steps, rolling up another few balls and creating a newborn snowman right next to the snow-demon. With his finger, he drew in a smiling face. “Happy side by side. Just like it should be.” Diavolo came back up to you, pulling you into a hug, keeping you close to his chest, both of you staring at the snow-beings. His hand came to your face, still nice and warm despite him having worked in the snow with no gloves. Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead. Then he used the same finger to trace the outlines of your eyes and lips, creating a smile on your own face. “There we go… I hope you will be just as happy at my side, as they are together.” His head nodded towards the snow-couple.

“Dia… Of course I will be… And don’t worry, I won’t melt away.”

You could feel the playful rumble in his chest. “That’s good… You might freeze though if we’re not careful. Perhaps we should head back inside. We can have a late breakfast to start the day. There is so much I cannot wait to do with you…”

“Forgive me for my behavior earlier,” Barbatos whispered, giving you a small squeeze before turning you around, using the back of his hand to touch the cold and reddened spots of your cheeks. “It is no excuse for being so uncouth, but… it is my secret desire to treat you to a perfect snowy sojourn.”

It never failed to amuse you to see just what the demon considered ‘rude’. You could definitely envision him to be the type to take off his glove and use it to smack someone and consider that a full on brawl. Jokes aside, you could tell he was stressed. There was nothing more unnerving than worrying if you were relaxing efficiently enough. He was quite like Lucifer in that regard, sometimes treating self-care and rest like it was another task to accomplish on their busy lists. His eyes seemed to dart around more than usual, his steps less punctual. He was unraveling, not unwinding, and for all the wrong reasons. You’d known it would be a daunting task to try to keep him from fretting over Diavolo the whole time, but you’d forgotten how much he could fuss over you. What was it Mammon liked to say? You can take Barbatos out of the butler, but you can’t take the butler out of Barbatos? A silly saying that seemed to make no sense at all and yet you understood completely.

“Simeon was partially right, you know.” You let that phrase settle in just long enough to annoy him for a second before explaining yourself. “Diavolo told you to relax too. It was an order as far as I’m aware.” The demon opened his mouth to try to combat your statement, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “I don’t need a royal treatment. I just want to have a good time with you. We can be as casual as we want to be and it will still be amazing.” An idea sparked in your head, a very similar train to the one you’d just had earlier. “Here, let’s start right now.” You took his hand and led him over to the couch. His hands instinctively reached out to tweak the cushions. After his perfectionism was sated, you forcibly nestled him into the corner of the couch. It was rather funny how lanky he looked there for a moment, crossing and uncrossing his legs like he’d never been on a couch before. You snagged a woven throw blanket off a nearby ottoman and threw it onto him. It draped over his head, messing up his hair ever so slightly as he worked to properly fold it over his lap.

Score.

Before he had the chance to even think it- although something in the gleam of his eye suggested he was allowing you to do so- you used your own fingers to fix the few stray strands. The tips of your fingernails brushed against his scalp, and for a moment- the briefest of moments- you almost swore you heard some sort of purr. It was elating getting to do something even as simple as this to someone who hardly ever had a thread out of place much less a hair. He must’ve known you’d do something like this and allowed you to mildly dishevel him on purpose. Ah well. A win was a win.

You heard something of a hum before he spoke. “Alright, now what?”

“Now…” You grinned, finding the remote to the television before sitting by his side. You slid yourself under the cover, curling your legs up, handing him the device. “You pick something to watch and we cuddle in front of the fire while doing something mindless for once. Why don’t you put on that one baking show you like? I can’t wait to hear you grumble about improper measuring cups again.” Schooching even closer to him, you weren’t content till he was fully leaning against the cushions, surrounded on all sides by warmth.

“I do not grumble.” Barbatos looked around himself as if he were worried about being caught like this, but not particularly minding it once he started to get adjusted to it. When he figured you would not dispute his claim, he did what you recommended and flicked the television onto The Great Banished Bake Off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get too riled up over the episodes, although he did look rather cute when he was irritated. Maybe you enjoyed pushing his buttons too much…

Rather than watching the show, you spent most of your time watching him, waiting to catch those specific clues that let you know he was enjoying himself. He would nod at the show here and there, tutting to himself and making off-handed comments about how things should be done differently. In other words, grumbling. Whilst he appeared to be distracted, and committed enough to not move for the next few minutes, you leaned into his shoulder. Then that’s when you felt it. Tiny little movements. Small changes, his body shifting to make it more comfortable to rest against. Eventually, his torso had turned enough to have your head directly against his chest.

His arms supported your body, clasped together by your hip. “You’re not wrong. This kind of activity seems to have its merits.”

“Oh? Good enough for your ‘snowy sojurn’?”

More than hearing it, you felt the deep rise and fall of his chest with a refreshing breath. “Planned or not, grand or casual, anything I do with you is perfect. No second of time is a waste.”

A human-like type of warmth enveloped you just long enough to put you at ease. Then the traitor struck. Two ice-cold hands snaked around the back of your neck, causing every nerve in you to jump. You squealed and shrugged the demon-in-mortal-clothing off of you, hearing that familiar and infuriatingly adorable impish giggle echo behind your head.

“Solomon! You—“

“Careful,” he warned, controlling his laughter enough to speak, his imaginary horns fading away as his collected smile stretched back over his face. He pointed back over his shoulder before curling his hand near the side of his mouth to funnel his whisper towards you. “There’s an angel present.”

“Oo, you’re so gonna get it later,” you muttered, forcing a frown to stay on your face despite how light-hearted your chest felt. “Besides, it’s just Simeon.”

“Hm.” His face went a bit flat. “You’re right. It’s Barbatos you’d need to worry about, unless you want another lecture on,” his words suddenly droned rather mockingly, “‘maintaining dignity in the presence of royalty’.”

“I’ll pass.” As you scoffed, Solomon came close for another embrace, his smile genuinely falling when you pushed him back with a palm to his forehead. Looked like quite the kicked puppy. “And I’ll pass on those frozen fingers of yours.” You moved past the living room and traversed the vacation home to learn its layout, admiring the simple intricacies of the winter lodge, listening to him continue to pad behind you.

He could’ve used magic or any other sort of cards he kept up his sleeve to get you to stop or turn around, but in moments like these he never seemed to. Around you he seemed less like a mythical sorcerer and more just like… Solomon. “Oh come now, you’re not going to punish me for being cold, are you?” He tried to dance around you, leaping forward to block the stairs only for you to walk past and purposefully circle the lower floor again.

“I’m not your personal heater.”

“Is that how you treat your beloved mentor? Leave me to freeze?” Either he’d been spending too much time with the brothers, or aside from his profession as a sorcerer, he’d somehow managed to find the time to master acting, because the voice that pricked up behind you finally made you stop. The guilt was intentional, you knew that, like those infomercials depicting sad animals or children to get you to donate something. Regardless of knowing this, you turned, giving him a sterner look despite treating this thing more like a game rather than a grudge. He smiled once he got to see your face, brushing his hands together and letting you get a better look at them. They were a strange sort of pale, the tips turning indigo. At this stage, they were more than just freezing, they were probably numb. And yet, instead of fixing the problem before it got dangerous, this moron was chasing you around and demanding your attention.

You stepped closer to him and lifted up his hands, holding them in your own, gently massaging his palms and fingers with your fingertips. You addressed him with a sigh so chagrined, you would’ve made Lucifer proud. “Your title is Solomon the Wise. You should have the better sense to wear a magical little thing called gloves.”

He chuckled at you, but you could see the softness form in his face as you traced the lines in his hands and tried to get the blood back into those extremities. “You’re right. I should be used to Devildom winters by now. I must’ve simply forgotten them in my excitement.”

“You’re acting like a child at their first amusement park.” Finally, you allowed the irritated facade to fade, chuckling.

All the sudden, he almost seemed a bit embarrassed, that smirk of his toned down to a curl more innocent. “But it is the first time I’m doing something like this. This is a little bit different than other trips where everyone has come along or this is different than us spending time together in the human world. This is… you and me, somewhere where work doesn’t have to be involved.” His hands warmer than they were before, his fingers found themselves slipping between yours, hands entangled. “I don’t have to just be your mentor or the Wise Human Sorcerer, and you don’t have to be just my apprentice or the famous royally-appointed Devilsitter. Maybe this is more like… a couple’s trip.”

His words nearly sounded pleading, and for the first time since the trip had been announced, you got to see just how much he was internally begging for something like this. Of course he’d had his fun prodding the brothers and riling them up, telling them all how much fun you’d have without them. But aside from his jokes and his teasing, he was so… giddy to be here. So much so that he forgot his gloves and now he was here swinging both your arms back and forth, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. For all that he had lived through and all that he knew…this was nearly a brand new experience for him.

Your heart swelled. Although, you felt you deserved a tease of your own. “You’re rather cute when you’re confused,” you whispered.

He was only caught off guard for a second, hiding his flustered blush by pulling you into his arms. “You are always there to teach me there’s still so much I have yet to experience… And you’re always there to warm up my hands.”

You were swept up in a soft hug that spun you several times around the room, a tune wistfully echoing from the mouth of the angel who was practically chirping. In the end, his small spat with Barbatos- if it could even be called that- wasn’t strong enough to quell the joy inside him. The spirit on high was in high spirits it would seem.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Simeon asked, stopping his little dance with you around the living room to take in the view from outside the windows. Upon closer inspection, one of those windows seemed to actually be a glass sliding door leading the way to a wrap-around balcony outside. Letting go of you, the angel strutted forward, throwing the door open, apparently unaffected by the cold. At least Diavolo didn’t seem to have to worry about a heating bill here… Simeon stretched like he’d been cramped for a long time, muttering something Celestial under his breath in awe before leaning against the railing.

While Mr. Cold-Shoulders might be able to combat the weather with little more than a pull-over and scarf, you were not the same. No matter how acclimated to the cold you felt you may or may not have been, nothing seemed to hit quite as strongly as Devildom temperatures. Warmth still flooded out from the heat of the cabin, but to keep the rest of you warm, you latched yourself against Simeon’s back, peeking at the world outside from behind his arms.

The angel looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes wrinkling in compassion. “I’m glad I eventually decided to come out here,” he mentioned. Right, he’d nearly passed up this opportunity, worried for a while about leaving Luke alone with the brothers. For a good portion of time, you’d convinced yourself that he wouldn’t allow himself to go. In the end, he came to the conclusion that it would be good for the little angel to have a little lesson in independence. And if anything, Luke would be the one trying to keep most of the demons responsible, not the other way around.

“I’m glad you came too. You work so hard behind the scenes and take such little credit…”

His hands found yours around him, giving them a reassuring squeeze, telling you in his own way that he didn’t think of it like that. Although, even if he got fulfillment and accomplishment from caring after the others, you knew this would be good for him too. A respite for himself. Let him catch up on the works and hobbies he had been leaving behind lately. Even now, there was a twinkle of inspiration in his eyes, the twitch of a writer’s hand. “Write a little something,” you suggested.

“W-what?” He actually stammered, almost laughing at his own surprise. “Right now?”

“I mean, only if you want to. You just look like you’re itching almost.” You pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, feeling him shudder.

“I guess I am feeling inspired…” After his whisper, he took in a deep breath, speaking slow, letting the thoughts come to him naturally. “Ivory clouds in winter skies. The icicles keep twinkling. I search the palette for your eyes. And so I press on thinking. When Father Frost has gone to sleep and his kingdom melts away, will you still be right by my side? Am I where you will stay? Two doves, close perched, adoration in their breast. Two wings, like two words. My Love. You are my nest.”

Some sort of emotion caught in your throat as you listened to his heart pound in his chest. After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat. “Wow. Have you thought of writing a book?” You teased, trying to joke away the sappiness to keep your feelings from getting the better of you.

“Really, you think so?” He turned his body away from the railing, holding you closer to him. “I don’t know. Something like that seems well out of my purview,” Simeon smirked a bit. He swayed you and him gently back and forth once more. “To tell you the truth, my biggest inspiration isn’t the scenery. It’s you.”

Once more, adoration tugged in your chest. Struggling to find your own words to say, you simply smiled and perhaps stammered more than you intended to. “I bet the view doesn’t hurt though.”

He lightly chuckled at that. “No, not at all. I don’t think it would be as breathtaking though if you weren’t here with me.”

“Simeon, please.”

The rocking stopped, a little bit of fear seeping into his face, afraid he’d crossed a line somewhere. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Quickly, you shook your head, tilting your head back with a small groan. “No, no, it’s not that. I promise. It’s just…I can’t say things as pretty as you can…and your little lines are so nice they make me want to cry.”

He sighed in relief when he realized he’d done no offense. “If you don’t want them, I’ll stop.”

“No! I love them.” You met his eyes and then wrapped your arms around his neck. “I just wish I could express how much I love you as nicely as you can for me.”

“Is that all?… Listen.” The side of his hand cradled your face. “You don’t need to write poetry for me to know you care. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. A simple ‘I love you’ means more to me than you will ever know. It doesn’t need to be wrapped in gifts or hidden amongst colorful prose. If its coming from you, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. Trust me.”

[yeen-meteor]

I want to take a moment to try to express why i appreciate Haru's sadism as an actual serious part of her characterization and not just a funny contrast joke and 'yay girl violence!' don't get me wrong i love me some yay girl violence for the sake of it, but like. i think there's a lot to work with there for genuine drama writing, too, not just comic relief and i want to talk about it! (cw sugimura)

for all of haru's backstory and her life with her father, sure she's rich and has a lot of privileges, but the one thing she completely lacks is any sort of control. Everything about her life is being decided for her, her father has decided on the shape of her entire future, and she can't do anything to change it - she's being raised just for the sake of being outright sold as a sex slave trophy wife to a perverted creep who is certainly too rich and powerful to ever face legal trouble for marital rape. She's going through the motions, enjoying what she can of the life she has while she still has it, completely hopeless in the face of this horrifying future that other people are forcing her into. Her will means nothing, what she wants means nothing.

And then the Phantom Thieves come along, and they give her the power to make her will matter, to fight for her own freedom and happiness. And that power comes in the shape of violence, physically fighting images of all the things and people standing in her way.

But more than that, she starts to feel 'shivers of excitement' when she hears shadows begging and pleading beneath her. She feels what it's like to have something absolutely, pathetically desperate to make her stop, to deny her what she wants - and to bask in the feeling that she doesn't have to listen, she's the strong one, she can shut them the fuck up with an axe through the skull because their will, their selfish desire, their plan for her doesn't matter anymore, her will, Haru's will matters. It's catharsis, it's intoxicating, it's a rich and indulgent feeling of real actual control and the freedom that comes with it, something she's been denied all her life, and it's probably an unhealthy way to get that feeling but who cares? these are just shadows!

And that catharsis and relief and self-assured confidence she gets from that just makes her better able to be her sweetest, kindest, purest self around the people she loves! It doesn't undermine the sweet person she is, it helps it!

And then, she makes the choice to try to cure her father's brain-rotting greed and see if there's anything worth salvaging in his heart. It might not be the best choice, it could certainly be argued about, but it's her choice, it's her will, and she finally, finally feels like she's able to make that mean something-

and Akechi takes the choice away from her, and forces her to live in the future he decided for her.

I think when people write the dynamic between Akechi and Haru, they can sometimes miss the forest for the trees - 'you killed my father', without the underlying 'this was the first time i believed i ever had a choice in my own life, and you took it away from me and fucking crushed it before my eyes'. I've also seen it done very well too, and I love it! but i think a lot of writers are sleeping on the potential a bit, of haru & akechi focused stories, or even of haru as a source of drama and an interesting supporting character in shuake stories. In general, haru's potential for anger, frustration, violent desires and just a need to feel in control of her own life has a lot of potential in drama writing!

Atlus certainly dropped the ball on the akechi and haru dynamic, and kept the sadism thing as mostly comic relief, but Persona canons are all half-realized outlines of good ideas just begging for fic writers to come and actually flesh them out, anyway, so ah well!

all i hope for is that if you're a persona writer that doesn't know what to do with haru or how to use her, or doesn't pay her much mind, maybe this might inspire you or give you a clearer idea of how to write her dramatic side!

[golvio]

Tried the Damsel route today.

This shot and the sequence leading up to it is probably one of the most disturbing things in the whole game. It's to existential horror what the Prisoner sawing her own head off was to physical horror. If anything, the Prisoner's autodecapatation is now less horrifying, in retrospect, because at least she got to keep her personality and free will throughout the process.

But, also...even in the routes where we don't mean to hurt her, where we do everything in our power to avoid physically hurting her...we still hurt her.

Even if we came in here with the very best of intentions and tried to "do the right thing," we still hurt her by our thoughts and desires hollowing her out until she was reduced to...this.

Going through the "happy" version of the ending didn't feel so triumphant, after that. Not just because the ending wasn't quite as satisfying from a narrative standpoint without any sort of conflict to struggle against, but because the whole time it felt like she was following a script. Apart from the vague impulse to leave that all Princesses possessed, she'd been hollowed out of everything that had made her...well, her, before Chapter II. She didn't panic when the door shut, she didn't stop smiling when we suggested she might end the world or have to cut off her arm a second time. The only thing we noticed about her in Chapter I was her lack of response to pain and her sweet smiles, and our fantasies hollowed her out until she became nothing but that.

Can we say she was "happy" if she lacked the capacity to be anything but "happy" with our choices for her? Can you call that love? Or is it something that's even lonelier than outright being alone?

Honestly, it was a relief when the Shifting Mound took her. Seeing her made so shallow felt incredibly cruel, given who she was before she was flattened, and what she would've been capable of if we had done literally anything else. At that point, "You molded her to love you" and "She has served her purpose" felt like both an observation and an accusation.

But, given that my time with the Damsel was paired with Shifty's third vessel dialogue...it got me thinking about what She wants.

She says She doesn't want anything, that She's governed by the whims of whatever force is shaping Her at the moment, but...is She really happy, having who She is be subject to the whims of who's perceiving Her? Is She okay with not being able to hold a shape She's discovered she likes as soon as someone else perceives Her to be something different? Would She ever want to take a break from...all that? After all, She's drawn to us. The Long Quiet. The god of eternity and order. On a certain level, She craves stability.

Is her "gift" to us what She's secretly wanted all along? The power to choose Her own fate, Her own identity, and the power to change it if She doesn't like the path She's on? And what does that say about our gifts? Do we yearn for the completion we offer her through the vessels, given that we keep shattering to pieces every time we go back into the breach and start the loop again? Is this some kind of wacky flipped-upside-down Gift of the Magi situation where each of us gives the other what they yearn for but lack due to our being permanently separated into two beings against our will?

[greyskyflowers]

Soft Zoro brought to you today by greyskyflowers

Yes, hello. I have decided that I will not rest until the world has more soft Zoro.

I'll start with this.

Zoro is not soft.

For the sake of this I'm going to run with the whole tiger vibes Zoro thing.

Tigers are friend shaped. They have the cutest little ears and they're so pretty that I just want to squish their little faces up and call them baby. It's a tragedy that I will not be able to do this. It's also a tragedy that if I ever get a chance to squish a tiger's little face up and call it baby that I will die happy as soon as I try to do so.

I love when I see videos of caretakers for wildlife being reunited with the animals they once helped take care of. Not zoos, the perserves and sanctuaries and stuff like that.

I love it.

But...

Tigers are wild animals. I would not encourage anyone to go up to a tiger, squish it's little face and call it baby. Even those people who have the great relationship with them are alway a misstep away from being a chew toy.

To me, this is Zoro. This is what I want people to get from my stuff about soft Zoro or submissive Zoro or whatever else I spit out on here.

Soft is not weak. Submissive is not weak. Allowing yourself to be weak, is not a weakness.

A tiger is not any less of a tiger because it allows someone it knows and loves to pet it. It will take your fucking arm off if it wants to. It will kill you and then go take a nap.

Zoro is terrifying. He's strong and incredibly talented and he adapts to his environment very quickly. Him and Luffy should honestly scare the absolute shit out of people.

Plus he was a bounty hunter, and the demon stuff or whatever that is, I bet Zoro can be uncomfortable to be around. He probably has that predator vibe to him, gives you the feeling that something big and scary is watching you. Peacefully, for now, but that can very easily change.

I love the idea that Zoro is brutal and bloodthirsty and unhinged during fights.

I love the idea that he's intimidating and unnerving if you don't know him very well.

I love the idea that Zoro is none of those things with the crew.

I like him having a place where he was be relaxed, soft, open, and 100% accepted as he is.

So yeah, I want to see him napping in little puppy piles with the crew. I want to see him letting himself relax around them. I want him to let himself experience the beauty of loving someone enough to allow yourself to be vulnerable around them. I want him baring his throat and back and belly to them, comparable to a animal rolling over to show trust. A tiger showing it's belly for it's favorite humans.

Does that make him any less terrifying? Fuck no.

It should actually make him more terrifying. He is not a mindless violent entity, he is fully aware of everything and chooses to absolutely fuck people up.

There's always an awareness that he's letting them see him when he's soft. He is not the one powerless in a situation like that. At any moment he could snap at all of them and he probably has. I can very easily see him building up those walls again when someone does something stupid. Leaving the crew, fighting Luffy, or just being a dumbass.

He goes back to defensive, unsettling, distant. And that might be worse than Luffy's anger or disappointment, dealing with Zoro's distance. Especially after having it. No more naps with a always warm swordsman. No more easy affection or privilege of being one of the people to see a fully relaxed and soft Zoro. No more touches to surprisingly soft skin, and no more easily given vulnerable spots.

I said at one point that Zoro gave me tiger on a gold leash vibes and here it is.

He may call Luffy captain and follow him willingly but tame is not a word that should be used to describe Zoro.

Let him be soft and terrifying.

Let him rip apart a battle field and drop bodies like gifts at his crews feet. Let him go back home bloody and feral, and angrily headbutt them like a cat when they refuse to touch him until he's cleaned up.

Let him come back clean, blood and wildness washed off and wisked away down the drain. Let him lay over their laps, cuddle up, or anything else like that.

And someone write me a submissive Zoro fic, god damn, I'm dying over here.

[avocado-writing]

notes: okay. this is the double ball gag fic. it also has crowley & aziraphale manifesting vaginas but still being male presenting bc nonbinary angels/demons can do what they want. everyone has sex very gender nonconformingly.

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale. Dom!Reader, Sub!Crowley/Aziraphale

words: 1.6k

rating: E, minors DNI (dom/sub; shibari; overstimulation; aftercare)

if you like my work here’s my kofi!

Outside of Aziraphale’s bookshop London is busy. People walk with purpose and without care, bumping shoulders and swapping unpleasantries. Outside they’re human: crass, bitter, small. 

That’s only if you’re being damning though. They’re also wonderful, bright, and marvellous. Something you’ve not quite reconciled within yourself. You’ve lived longer than any of them, so you’re not exactly a human, but neither are you like your lovers: able to change your body with just a thought and a click. Sometimes you wish you had what Aziraphale and Crowley had. Other times, you resign yourself to what you are, and be glad they can make up the other pieces. 

The tea brews, and you think about the first time you saw both of them with vulvas. 

For Crowley, it was quite soon after the three of you found each other again. Aziraphale was off on business and, given that you were still in the honeymoon decade, you and Crowley couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You had him in bed, pulling off his doublet and hose, unwrapping him like a present that was still a surprise even when you knew what the contents were. 

Only that time it was a surprise, because instead of a cock between his legs, you found a willing and wet cunt. 

“Oh!”

“Oh?” Crowley had asked, then seemed to remember and looked down. “Oh, yes. I felt like it today. Is that a problem?”

“Never,” you’d said, and slipped your fingers inside of him. 

Aziraphale changed himself around in that manner less than Crowley did. He was a creature of habit and more importantly a creature of comfort, if he was happy in how he looked it wasn’t often he’d alter it. But you remember, in seventeen-fifty, the day he — she — had walked down the stairs in her rococo dress with its risqué neckline, gorgeous blonde hair in tight curls around her heart-shaped face. She had taken your breath away. 

“Aziraphale, you’re beautiful.”

She lit up like the sun on a clear day. 

That night you’d both taken her to bed and found her pretty pussy in her fair nest of hairs. She’d cried out as Crowley sheathed himself inside her, and afterwards as you covered her opening with your mouth to taste what Crowley had left. 

Yes. You’d learned not to expect anything when it came to getting them into bed. But, usually, when you propose an idea to them, they’re more than happy to indulge in it. Especially when you use that voice. That voice which promises they’re going to be shaking messes by the time you’re done with them. 

Your timer beeps and you jump. Half an hour. It’s probably been long enough. You take the tray of tea and head upstairs. 

They’re in the bedroom, exactly where you left them, which is good - it means they didn’t try to miracle out of their bindings. Which you told them, if they did, they’d be in trouble for. And not the fun kind of trouble either, with the whipped cream. 

The bench only comes out on special occasions but you’ve had it for years. Leather, very easily wiped clean. Which is good especially for where you’ve got them at the moment. 

What a pretty scene: they’re strapped to it, both of them, bodies pressed uncomfortably close together. There are three things preventing them from moving apart. One: the way you’ve bound their ankles and hands behind them to the bench effectively sealing them in place with the shibari rope; two: the fact the nipple clamps you’ve put on them are threaded together and to pull only leads to tugging; and three: the fact you’ve got them strapped to either side of a double ball gag. 

As they hear you enter the room their eyes turn to you desperately. You take a moment to sear the filthy picture into your mind. Two of them trapped in a faux kiss, spit escaping their mouths and dripping down between them. And, between their legs, you can hear the humming of the hitachi wands you rigged to press mercilessly into both their clits. 

Half an hour they’ve been here for. You’ve tried this before in the early noughties back when they both had cocks. They’d both tapped out though (and you let them, you weren’t heartless). It was just too sensitive. A cunt, though? That can take a pounding and keep on going. 

Yes. Half an hour. You’ve left them for half an hour with no other instructions than “keep track of how many times the other one comes.”

You’d whipped Crowley’s glasses off first, though, just to make sure he didn’t try to hide anything. And that makes him look more naked than the fact he doesn’t have a shred of clothing on. You put down the tea and approach them. You can hear the harmony of their laboured breathing; inhalations they don’t need to take but do so anyway to calm themselves through the overstimulation. Crowley’s let loose a couple of tears but Aziraphale is a mess, pink and flushed, crying hard, hair stuck slick to his forehead. You tenderly wipe it free for him. 

“Aziraphale, you’re beautiful,” you whisper. Even strung out on pleasure and with his mouth stopped by rubber Crowley manages a harrumph. You roll your eyes affectionately. 

“Yes, you are too, big boy.”

You pull back and cross your arms, switching back to business. 

“Alright. One at a time I’m going to ask you to blink how many times you saw the other one come. You first, Crowley.”

Crowley looks you dead in the eyes and blinks five times. You make a mental note and turn to your angel. 

“Go on now, your turn.”

Through the tears Aziraphale gives you seven blinks. Your eyebrows raise. 

“Incredible. You must be sore, Crowley.”

Crowley makes a little noise in the back of his throat. You reach down between Aziraphale’s legs and turn off the vibrator. He chokes against the gag in relief, sucking in a deep, calming breath through his nose. Crowley looks hopeful but you make no move to do the same for him. 

Carefully you remove the ball from their mouths, undo the clamps. You listen to them both groan and stretch their jaws to get the feeling back. You undo some of Aziraphale’s ropes to allow him a little more slack and comfort, but most importantly so that he’s able to lie backwards. 

They’re messes. Spit soaks their chest having dripped down from the gag, forcibly smeared between them due to their proximity. You turn to Crowley. 

“Alright now, darling. Clean him up.”

He looks confused, dazed, all of his attention still on his cunt. He wiggles his hands only to find them still trapped. You reach out and open his mouth for him, pressing your thumb between his lips. 

“With your tongue, darling. Go on. Be a good boy, and I’ll turn it off.”

“Fuck,” Crowley manages, before reaching over to Aziraphale. You watch him work him over, licking him clean from the mixture of sweat and spit, enjoying the way the angel’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of his husband’s tongue. When you believe Crowley has done a thorough enough job you manoeuvre Aziraphale down even further, supporting him as he lies on his back and spreads his legs. His pussy is a puffy pink and glistening with come. You nod the demon towards it. 

“Little more, Crowley.”

He finds just enough room in his binds to lean forward and press his mouth to Aziraphale’s entrance, his tongue licking careful stripes over the angel’s lips. Aziraphale cries out as his poor cunt is once again wracked with pleasure, and you undo his ropes to allow for him to slip one hand free and bury it in your clothes for support. His chest hitches beautiful, back a gorgeous arch. 

You hold him, gripping him through it, until Crowley is done. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper to him, sliding your finger into his red locks and pulling his head back gently to face you. His eyes are wide and exhausted, but full of satisfaction as you finally turn his hitachi off. You kiss him, long and slow, touching your tongue against his and tasting Aziraphale off his lips.

Finally done, finally spent, you begin to dismantle the set-up. Yes, they could miracle themselves free, but that takes away from the intimacy of it. The care. They collapse in your arms as you undo the ropes and you help them over to the bed, massaging the feeling back into their limbs. All the while you pepper them with kisses and praises both, telling them how well they did, how good they are. 

“Tea or water?” you ask them both. The unanimous response is ‘tea’, so you bring it over to them from your tray. As they drink it down — well, what you’ve made them do is thirsty work — you head into the en-suite and grab a wet flannel. They nuzzle into each other as you begin to wipe them down, clear the sweat and stickiness from their bodies. When you reach between Crowley’s legs he hisses and you stop. 

“Sore?”

“Mmm.”

“I'm sorry darling. But was it good?”

He nods enthusiastically, pressing his face into the soft space between Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder. 

Later, you’ll run them a bath, take your time washing them down with the nice body soak. You’ll discuss the whole scene and hear with enthusiasm that it’s something they’d like to do again; Crowley’s pretty sure he can last longer next time. You’ll take them downstairs and make dinner and collapse into a cuddly pile on the sofa, watching that show you all like from the eighties. 

But for now you let them rest, sitting at the head of the bed to stroke their hair, and being there if they need anything in the world. 

[dreamsinger-rose]

Of Magic and Mating

Looking back over all the movies and specials, it seems to me that trolls are very magical creatures, whether they realize it or not. They are so magical that other species can actually make use of that magic. Velvet and Veneer could draw upon the trolls’ musical talent and the confidence to use it. The bergens did much the same thing, except their way of absorbing whatever makes a troll so magically “happy” was much cruder, by just eating them whole.

Maybe because of their generous natures, I feel that the trolls are open to being used by others. I got the distinct feeling that Floyd had befriended a shy Veneer and somehow given him a bit of his musical ability/confidence. Then Velvet found a way to exploit Floyd’s good will, which is why he was so bitter and sarcastic later on, having been betrayed by this “friends.” Thankfully, Veneer proved to be Floyd’s friend in the end, and turned against his sister.

My point is that rolls are steeped in magic. Their hair tends to be the main repository of it. They can move, stretch, and shape their hair. They can use it as an extra hand or foot, for travel, and object manipulation. They can change its color and texture to make it look like other things, like bushes for camouflage. They can use it to store items and carry babies. From what we’ve seen, they also create babies within their hair.

Now we learn that trolls can procreate with other species. Most likely due to their magical hair somehow making them compatible. It is worth noting that Bruce’s children are not trolls, though. He only seemed able to help her reproduce. Unless Brandy’s species can also self-clone, like Guy Diamond did with Tiny.

But if she does need a mate to produce babies, maybe his hair gave her the ability to self-clone like a troll. Maybe even produce eggs – which would explain why they had so many kids. I’d imagine Brandy would be delighted not to have to go through traditional pregnancies, lol. Or maybe Bruce’s hair actually produced their egg-babies.

That leads to the question of whether or not trolls have other reproductive organs, like humans (and possibly bergens) do. They probably don’t need them, but I like to think at least some have them, just for fun and frolicsome times 😉 Oh, so many questions…

On cloning… Poppy mentions DNA at one point, so genetics must have some effect in the trolls’ world. Branch and Poppy’s siblings look similar but not identical to them; brothers and sisters, not clones. Did each set of siblings truly come from a single parent? Then what about how some trolls seem to have two parents, like Cooper and Prince D’s parents? Their sons are twins who share identical coloring, but neither matches their parents. That suggests two-parent mating, not cloning.

Maybe it’s optional. Some animal species in our world can either self-clone or mate with others, if there are mates available. Maybe trolls are the same way.

Or, magic is involved. The fact that Bruce and Brandy reproduce together baffles even them. I say it’s got to be yet another magical-hair-related ability, fueled by more magic than they know they possess.

Of course, the trolls’ world itself could be considered magical. It has physics that wouldn’t work in our world, like seeing sparkles and musical notes in the air. Talking, self-aware clouds. Water made from glitter. Creatures like glowbugs that shouldn’t even be able to fly, let alone carry trolls. Animals with books growing out of their faces. Seriously?! Enlightened gurus like Cybil (and, I suspect, Tiny Diamond) can float. Which proves that Creek wasn’t a true guru – he used bugs to carry him and make it seem as if he were floating.

So we might as well call alternate-world physics “magic,” yes? 😉

I hope you all had a great holiday 😊

[arosspeaksnonsense]

So... I had a like, one shot fic type story idea

I probs won't be able to write it since I require full focus/dedication/attention to something when i want it to come into fruition (which is already difficult as is) and also since I have too much going on in my head and I want to do all of it, but instead I find myself doing nothing all day please god help me idk what this is called (my guess is laziness)

BUT anyways, onto the story idea

You know how ink's vials and I guess livelihood depends entirely on the creators/fandom? (Ok I guess not ENTIRE but his vials do depend on it, which is the things that essentially makes him alive.)

Well, since the fandom is not very active as it was when it was like, 2016-2017 (not saying its dead)

What if the fandom, just, dies? I mean duh its inevitable and Ink is silently pleading that the last creators hopefully won't leave but he knows its inevitable, no matter how hard he tries to make them stay, some of them already starting to give up.

The others notice ink's change in behavior and ink tells them the entire the thing and how he has only a few more time left to be alive I guess.

The others obviously distraught about this, but ink reassures them its fine, but the others weren't convinced

And then they find ink maybe sobbing or terrified as he tells them that the creators all left and are all gone and that he's probably going to go soon too.

This makes the others panic and desperately asks ink if there is another way for his vials to work, in which he sadly answers no.

they then dedicate the next few days into making sure ink is enjoying every second of the very little time he has left.

As they slowly looses all his colors one by one, eventually he looses all of them completely, which leaves them being the same emotionless, soulless skeleton he started as before.

Everyone is left in distraught and sadness

All his friends all sobbed and cried, some silently and/or internally crying, as their once lively, creative and cheerful friend, now nothing more than an empty shell of what he once were.

A hollow husk, with an emotionless and empty expression.

A painful reminder hit all of them, that they will never get that face to smile ever again. the same face that used to grin and laugh all the time.

The cheerful smile that he let out as he pranks and greets others, the lively motivations he loved giving to everyone.

The Laughs and snorts he gave out whenever he got someone in a prank, or from a joke not many understand, if any one did at all. And how when he becomes too flustered, or when too much euphoria and happiness comes flooding his feelings, he will starting to float in the air and continuously go up until the euphoria ends and they eventually go back down.

His Lips(?) Now closed and sealed shut

No sign of a tone or a voice to speak

The hands that used to paint with such freedom and care, the hands that used to make such magnificent and beautiful paintings, that gorgeously and perfectly replicate reality as if though it was reality itself. The fingers that used to dance around the flute as it made music, the hands that sew not only fabrics of clothing but also the fabrics of reality.

Gone is the passion in his hands that once were, the hands that moved freely, stuck in place.

His feet that loved to dance and move wherever it goes, exposed out to the world, lacking of any visible footwear, lacking any care where it stepped and what it was on, representing freedom and free of chains.

Both now rigid and unmoving.

His eyes, oh dear his eyes. The eyes that used to express themselves so much. So expressive that it almost made you forget he lacked the very base of every being, a soul. The eyes that so greatly showed its differing and unique shapes and colors that expressed whatever emotion they were feeling.

Now reduced into an empty and pitiful circles of white, indicating emotionless and lifelessness, no more is the eyes that burst with colors and shape, only a blank stare is what remains.

He was so empty.

It terrified and saddened everyone.

The Multiverse Was filled with sobs and cries, Silence in some

The Multiverse was crying and mourning its guardian.

Dream, Distraught, knew what he had to do.

He had only known about ink's dads when Dream had been frantically looking for Ink as he had seemingly Disappeared, only to find said skeleton in the garden with a Gaster, this one had wings.

He has watched and approached carefully, but was stopped by a loud yelled by the short skeleton

He didn't know how to respond but he only walked closer, the expression on the gaster seemed..pleasantly surprised.

Not long after, dream had found out about how he isn't the only gaster in the house but two were sharing it, and how said two are married and fathers to his short friend

It was a pleasant surprise to dream

But...this surprise..

Will not be so pleasant.

As Dream was about to grab and carry Ink, The hands that intertwined on eachother, that hands being of Inks and Errors

Speaking of the glitch, Hes...probably not going to be well after this, after all besides blue, Ink was the only one that really took the time and Effort to Understand and Befriend Error, they had a very close relationship.

Error had not let go of Ink's Hand ever since the news of his depleting life. His haphephobia suddenly gone during doing so, (or is it?? I can't tell.) But now, he doesn't seem to react, only tightening his grip and continuing to look and stare into nothingness, finally Dream spoke

"Error..?, can you..let go?? Of Ink, I feel like his father's need to see this."

"...why can't they just..come here..."

" I'm afraid Aster cannot step outside of their AU"

"...fine. But I'll with you."

"Of course."

Dream opened a portal, he slowly walks through with error, who's carrying ink bridal style.

Aster and Top has not spoken over the past few days, worry littered their mind, as the news of their little star burning itself out soon had reached their non existant ears.

They spent Time with their little star, they made sure he enjoyed and had fun every second of the time they had left with him.

Eye bags shows prominent under their eyes, they hear a knock at the door, their eyes grows surprised, wishfully hoping their little hat had come to visit them again

Aster stands up and walked towards the door, a smile on his face, as he opens the door, his smile drops,

He sees the three Skeletons, and he sees especially the star that had burnt out.

Aster simply stares and does not respond, his eyes widened.

His hands slowly reaches for Ink

And Error though hesitant, give Ink to Aster.

Aster, felt like he couldn't breathe, the little star that always shined bright, so much so it didn't seem like they were ever going to die down, and yet here he is, no longer shining, his smile and laughs and snorts gone forever.

As he holds ink, he holds his hands, tears starts to flow down his face, he remembers when he held those small hands, guide them through the dirt, when Aster was teaching ink about gardening, when Aster saw the glimmer in his eyes (oh god, he will never get to see that ever again will he?) When he was watching Aster show him around the Garden, offering to show him how to grow beautiful flowers. He so excitedly followed every step so cautiously, contradicting Aster's Expectation of many mess up.

As he held into ink's tiny hands, the hands that he teached to learn many things, that he teached to not used his power so much.

He cried, he cried for ink, he cried for his child, his baby, his star.

And behind Aster, walks Top.

Eyes widened, eyes filled with tears.

There he saw his son, the little outcode that slithered their way into his life and affection, on the arms of his beloved, dead and empty,

Memories flashed as Top slowly made his way to his family. The tiny sans that laughed, smiled and cheered everyone around him, The tiny sans that was so tiny, Top's hat almost covered over half of their face, the tiny face that loved to tell stories and show paintings to their parents. His son, Ink, Dead and Empty in the Arms of his Husband.

It hit them, Ink is an outcode, he never belonged to a Universe, not in any AU, they can't just reset and reverse this like with aster or with any other sans, he truly and utterly gone.

The screams and cries of the Two Fathers, The Guardian of the Positivity, and the God of Destruction could be heard and felt throughout the entire Multiverse.

The Multiverse will never be the same.

But, at least Ink died happily with family, friends that cared for him, that stayed with him no matter his ways, his condition.

That will never forget him.

And to him it is enough.

The Multiverse Felt Empty.

[nobody-nexus]

Y'all I got a TADC oc named Clef

(Hands you him)

If one word could describe Clef, it would be: Theater. He's extremely loud, boisterous, cartoonishly flamboyant, and will make constant Broadway and musical theater references. They love to put on a show and even sometimes up show others just to show them that he's the best of the best in terms of playing a role in the digital circus. Of course, this personality is most likely from their time before, however the constant references seem to be the only way to comfort them with the fact that they only VAGUELY know where the mentions even come from. He's a very empathetic person as well, able to read people's emotions well and relate to them in a sense

In his non-digital life, they were once a Broadway star. He adored the stage, making musical after musical from side character to the main character. Have you heard of it? They’ve played in it. He was also incredibly open to being themselves, and hoping others would do the same. But in all actuality, he was merely someone who their mother was projecting over. Their mother relished in the fame that her child gave her, but once that was the case and everyone found out, that stardom dropped like a brick. He was quickly forgotten due to more prominent and “relevant” stars, no one willing to give their mother fame- and as a result HE was left in the dust, giving them a bit of an imposter syndrome. Now only doing occasional side gigs, he ended up finding this link on an old hard drive. They wished for ANYTHING to make himself feel better, so with a borrowed VR headset- they went into the world…. A world they’d never awake from

Clef in terms of design was based off of a Dragon City dragon called the Wonderland Dragon

In terms of age, Clef is 34 years old (I do not ship them with anyone in the TADC cast) and he is 5'11''

He's a very expressive character as well! The yellow around their eyes changing color and his eyes changing shape to further express how they feel Examples:

Although I don't have art for it, his main ability is being able to pull a horn out of their stomach mouth and play it with ease- the horn itself being able to sound like just about anything

And of course what's a TADC OC post without ONE OF THESE CHARTS

More detailed relationships are as follows:

Pomni: Although sometimes doesn't enjoy how bombastic he is, at the same time they're one of the more 'I guess you're okay' people, but I promise they bond with one another eventually

Caine: Doesn't like having the attention on someone else when it comes to performances, so sometimes Caine does get on their nerves, however overall he's FINE around the ringmaster

Gangle: Father daughter dynamic. Almost instantly Clef practically adopted Gangle due to her love for the arts as well. Although he can't save her from Jax's bullshit, he tries to protect her nonetheless

Jax: Absolute hatred. Not even because of his dynamic with Gangle either, they just HATE "hecklers" and considers Jax as one. Jax's nickname for him is 'maestro' and they really don't like it

Kinger: Literally no thoughts on him. Clef's hardly interacted with the chess piece due to how uncomfortable they find themselves around him. Nothing AGAINST Kinger, Clef just... really doesn't like his eyes

Ragatha: If him and Gangle for the father and daughter dynamic, them and Ragatha are team mom and team dad. They probably get along due to how close in age they are, as well as their people pleaser attitudes

Zooble: He finds them very nice, but Zooble is REALLY annoyed with how Clef speaks and therefore having to deal with them a lot is a bit of a pain in the eyes of the mismatched individual

===

Also made some concepts of what Clef would be like in some of my favorite AUs! (Carnival AU by @sm-baby and Corrupted AU by @rabid-mercenary15)

If you wanna see more with them, I'll be happy to share more stuff ^^

[randomshit657]

I’m going to be talking about OCD and Intrusive thoughts, and very briefly religious trauma. And maybe slight disordered eating. If that will bother you please skip.

Okay so I know that many people aren’t going to see this but if even one person sees this and maybe learns something I’ll be happy.

Okay so I have OCD, and that’s kind of what I want to talk about. I promise you I’m not trauma dumping just listen for a moment.

I’ve known I had OCD since I was in 4th grade but it never really felt like I actually had it because of all the stereotypes surrounding it.

I never needed to keep everything perfectly clean or check things multiple times or any of that. It took me years to actually accept I had it because of these stereotypes. Instead I just felt crazy or wrong or bad, and I don’t want anyone to feel that.

I thought that mine wasn’t that severe so it didn’t mean anything. Trust me it does. If you’ve been diagnosed or think you have it, I would highly recommend getting therapy because trust me you don’t want it to get bad.

Anyway I’m here to talk about some things about OCD. Starting with the intrusive thoughts.

I don’t think the intrusive thoughts that come with OCD are really discussed enough when in reality they are the reasons for the compulsions.

First things first intrusive thoughts aren’t “I want to dye my hair at 3 am.” That’s an impulsive thought there a huge difference, and I’m not trying to attack you for using intrusive thoughts in that context especially if you didn’t know the difference, but it’s important you know the difference and you the terms in the proper context.

And I say this because if people start believing intrusive thoughts are things you actually want to do but just do impulsively it’s going to cause a huge problem especially for people with OCD.

If you have OCD your intrusive thoughts can be terrible, awful things. That they don’t want to do. Let me repeat that people with OCD don’t want to do their intrusive thoughts hence the compulsions because their brain convinces them that whatever they do will stop the thoughts.

But those thoughts are just something impulsive you want to do they are a lot of the time truly disturbing things. Sometimes these thoughts will get so bad people with lock themselves in their houses because they are scared of hurting someone. When I’m actuality these people are the least likely to actually act on these thoughts.

Now let’s get onto compulsions. When most people think of compulsions they think of hand washing or having to do something a certain amount of times but we’ll that can be the case from some people those aren’t the only types of compulsions.

For example reassurance seeking can be a compulsion. Asking your friends things like “Am I a bad person?” Or “Do you still love me?” or whatever your intrusive thoughts are telling you.

I’m going to explain a few of mine because I would say mine aren’t as well known. For instance waking up every morning and the first thing I have to think being “Today is the day the world will end.” Because I was always told god would destroy it when I least expected it so now if I don’t repeat it every morning I’m on edge all day.

Or not being able to stomach anything that isn’t labeled gluten free or made by me, I also cant eat unless I know I can go home after on the off chance some gluten made it’s way into it and I get sick.

The last one I’m going to mention is being overly nice to everyone at school. I would have such vivid thoughts about someone hurting people at school that even if this person was a huge jerk I would be nice to them or go out of my way to complement them because that would somehow fix thing.

The point is compulsions come in all shapes and forms and OCD is rarely logical, but it doesn’t change the fact that it feels logical. Just because you don’t fit a the stereotype doesn’t mean you don’t have it. It’s important to know that because with everything else your probably going through with this disorder you don’t need denial on your plate aswell.

It’s important to try and get help for this disorder because honestly it can be scary, and can cause a hole pile of other issues. But if you can’t here are some pointers.

1. Do your best to not participate in the compulsions. Now this won’t be easy at all and that doesn’t mean they’ll go away but they’ll be easier to manage. Trust me. I was forced to break one from sheer in ability of not being able to do it and it sucked but I was happier than I had been in months after I got through that.

2. Remember the intrusive thoughts aren’t you, and tell your brain that to.

3. I know it sounds silly and might not help everyone it i know for me kind of talking to my brain like a child works. Like “I know what you are feeling is very real but why don’t we try watching tv for a bit and see if you still want to do it then. Okay?” And then just try and distract yourself. It’s not fool proof but you know.

4. Just remember you’re stronger than you think. I know it’s hard and some days are really going to suck. But as hard as it is you can work through it. It won’t go away but it will become easier.

Anyway that’s it. I know this is a little rambely but I hope it gets the point across.

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, I made this last night

I was complaining yesterday about how I can’t draw, and while I tried and failed to draw traditionally (I think I’ve been out of practice too long and I can’t adjust to the layout of it not being right in front of my face at the same angle, if that makes sense), I decided maybe I can try drawing these guys again

I’m pretty happy with how the main trio turned out in this redesign, I think I was able to give them all distinct looks

Cassidy got some changes, Rasmus pretty much stayed the same other than a permanent ponytail, and Rowan's hair got completely changed. Mostly because I wanted to make his hair have a more distinct shape

I still need to come up with new names for them though. Best I got is Rowan becomes Rusty, but I don’t know for the other two. All I know is that in another world, Cassidy would be Peppermint, or some other variation of mint

Anyways, a while ago I was considering changing the setting of the story to be cowboy themed. It was mostly because at the time, a Discord I was on was making a Cookie Run cowboy AU that I really like, but also because the story never had a clear time period setting. It was part modern day, part fantasy, and I never really got it to be consistent

Though the big problem is that I’m pretty unfamiliar with cowboys and how they operate. Which is ironic because I’ve been living in Texas for over a decade. But like, I’ve never been that interested in Westerns or that cowboy stuff, probably in part because I heavily dislike country music. So I don't really know much about the era other than Victorian times were also happening

I would also have to change some things around so that they fit in the time period, most importantly the whole situation with Rasmus and the others. I'm thinking maybe I can turn that from science experiment to witchcraft and have magic be more of a thing, since they are meant to have magic

I've given a little thought into how the story works now, like that these three got hired either to drive cattle to a certain area or keep watch of a ranch. I guess if they got to travel, then the former, but if I just want them to hang out, then the latter. Former's probably better though, since if I want to make an actual plot, there's your overarching goal

I think I need to do more research on the time period though, so I know what I'm doing. Though also this isn't going to be like, completely historically accurate. I mean these guys are fictional goat thing people with magic powers. I don't think something like the Civil War happened recently, and I'm not sure I want sexism to be a prevalent thing in the plot. And I think I also personally I need that reminder since sometimes I forget that I can give myself wiggle room

In that vein, the cattle are probably also semi fictional, or at least maybe they shouldn't be exactly the same as real cows. I don't know, I feel like it'd be really jarring to have normal cows alongside brightly colored goat people

Anyways I trailed off, back to the actual drawings

So because of the cowboy consideration, I tried to sketch out outfits they could wear. As well as body types (though they didn't turn out as varied as I'd like). Cassidy and Rasmus I think are fine, but Rowan might need more tweaking. I also need more cowboy refs, especially ones that aren't just costumes or AI pictures in Google Images

Then afterwards I decided to start sketching some of the other characters I've made up. Which just so happen to be the parents of the main characters. Who also have names because I came up with the naming scheme at that point

Top to bottom is Periwinkle, Basil and Silver

Of those three, I think Periwinkle turned out the best, but for one thing, she's been in my mind much longer than the other two, so I have a much clearer idea of what she's supposed to look like. And on top of that, I've actually drawn her before, so I know what to change. Basil and Silver are very much first drafts, and first drafts are usually not the best when it comes to designing new characters. No wonder redesigns of characters usually end up better than the original, since you have a base design where you already know what works and doesn't, as opposed to working from the ground up

And with Silver, I made it a point that he and his son don't look anything alike other than both having darker hair, so I quite literally had nothing to work with, unlike Basil or Perri

I'm also realizing that I've made a pattern with the parent designs, namely that all three of the main characters pretty much exclusively look similar to their moms. I suppose you can't tell much here, since Rasmus was born green but got changed via the experimentation, while I drew Silver, Rowan's dad that he looks nothing like, with the mom he does look like not being depicted. But yes, Cassidy and her bio mom are blue, Rasmus and Basil are green, and Rowan and his mom are red

Periwinkle and Cassidy are probably the two who look the most distinct from another, in part because they're two different shades of blue. Which is ironic because in my more recent working of this world, I made it a point that Perri's family has crazy strong genes, with everyone in the family (outside of marriage) is blue. I might have to take that out or just change how this works

I mean with Rowan, I don't really know how to change it, since his dad's family is all in the greyscale, so him being red would have to come from his mom. And with Rasmus, his parents are supposed to be green and red, with the idea that it's plausible that he could turn out brown, while in reality he was born green. But I mean I guess I could turn him a more yellow-ish green? I don't know, I'll figure it out

And uh yeah, I guess that's it. Not really anything that remarkable, but at least I drew something

[lutiaslayton]

Hello!

I come to ask you a question, as you are the leading researcher in the field of puzzle lore, and also a scientist! (Once more: congratulations!)

Apologies if these thoughts seem a bit.... messy and much. Feel free to just ignore.

I am currently writing a little story/fanfiction that includes puzzles, and first I wanted to ask if it is okay with you if I use your theory for that.

Second:

You already said that Puzzles, or rather Hamanier Particles have the ability to allow time/space travel, and that they allow clairvoyant abilities.

Puzzles/Hamanier Particles seem to be already used to research time and space travel, as your theory says.

Could puzzles have even more possible "applications"?

Is the main reason why the Azran were so advanced that they fully understood how to "use" puzzles and their supernatural-seeming properties?

Do you think they could also be the cause of other weird happenings and traits humans, plants and animals have in the series?

Could puzzles possess living things too and change them?

Flora Reinhold has the mole in the shape of an apple, that only appears when she is happy/laughing.

That isn't really possible, but perhaps that is caused by some sort of puzzle possession?

Could this also be an explanation for the nonsenical dusguise abilities Don Paolo and Descole have, that they might partially be literal shapeshifters (or something in that direction?)

A shapeshifting-like thing could also explain how Don Paolos hair works, why it is able to move around and shape itself in ways normal hair shouldn't (LF, the scene where he got his horns

Do you think it is significant that in/around puzzle shacks, plant seem to grow in strange ways (there is almost always a tree around, often growing indoors), and that other plants such as the sunflower in LF being able to store/attract puzzles.

(i also find it strange how flowers grow underground, at the grave of Viola Reinhold. But that might not be caused by puzzles, I think at least)

Could puzzle possession be able to alter genes/bodies? (here it becomes apaarent that my biology knowledge is not advanced enough yet).

If they potentially create little "weird traits" such as Floras apple-shaped mole, or even shapeshifting, then they might have the potential to do even more.

The animal experiments in LF were probably meant to test the time travel-capabilities of Hamanier particles.

But apparently, the exposure to them was what caused Subject 3 to become so strangely human-like, apparently altering his body(?) and making him able to "walk".

This might go to far, but regarding Animals being experimented with and becoming strange/humanlike-

The dog from LMJ, Sherl, was also implied to have been experimented on in a lab, and that is why he got the ability to talk.

Another Hamanier Particle experiment, maybe?

So, maybe puzzle experiments are not very uncommon in the Layton-Universe.

And that was... it, I think.

I don't know enough about science (yet) to properly understand the implications that Puzzles might be experimented with/have the capability to change living beings and allow "supernatural"-seeming phenomena to happen.

So that is why I wished to ask someone who knows way more than me.

Apologies if it wasn't understandable.

Hi, thanks! And, wow, that's a big one indeed xD

A few disclaimers ahead of time:

The theory is still a work in progress, in the sense that I won't be 100% confident in its solidity before I'll have had time to confront it to basically the near-entirety of the lore in the game. Which, obviously, is going to take a lot of time and work. So while I do believe that the current state of the theory is rather reliable, at least as a headcanon, I cannot claim with confidence that a few details here and there won't change in the future due to my finding out something else in the games/novels/other that I didn't know or had forgotten about, and which contradicts part of the theory.

I believe you likely saw this post already, but I link it just in case. I had tried in that post to make the theory's assertions as clear as possible, but the wording in some of your questions makes me wonder whether there might have been a few confusions here or there. If you or anyone else have questions regarding a specific part of the theory and/or you're not completely sure what X or Y means, don't hesitate to ask me.

Now, on to your questions:

Is it okay if I use the puzzle theory for my own fanfictions/fanart/other?

To you, and to anyone else who will probably ask again sooner or later (you're not the first one haha): YES. The puzzle theory by itself is something that I was stupid/crazy enough to come up with, but since the evidence that led up to me thinking about it came directly from the official content, it doesn't feel to me like the theory really "belongs" to me! It's as if you had to pay royalties to Albert Einstein whenever you wanted to write E=mc². Kinda stupid if you ask me (and even stupider in my case because the puzzle theory isn't nearly as fundamental to the progress of humanity as real world science is).

Also what fun is there in finding a lore mechanic that is so wide, could have SO many applications and implications, inspire sooooo many fascinating storylines and AUs, only for me to then go "nah I'm the only fanfic author who's ever allowed to use it. Get screwed, fandom." For real, the reason I share this theory at all is because I WANT the fandom to know about it and have their own fun with it, if they decide that it's a toy box worth adding to their collection of headcanons!

If anything, credit is appreciated if you want your potential readers-who-are-also-writers to read about the puzzle theory in turn and get inspired to also write about it; but it is absolutely not required.

However, one thing that is required (not really but I would love if you could do it): please do send me the link of your fanfic once it is written and posted because I absolutely want to read it 👀

TL;DR: Yes, it is ok, and I want to see it. Go wild, and have fun!

Hamanier Particles have the ability to allow time/space travel, and they allow clairvoyant abilities. Puzzles/Hamanier Particles seem to be already used to research in time and space travel, as your theory says. Could puzzles have even more possible "applications"?

I believe that imagination is our sole limit! (like, literally, since Hamanier particles are basically what constitutes complex thoughts in the Laytonverse)

That, and more importantly the fact that what scientists within the Laytonverse truly know about how Hamanier particles work and how to harness their power has yet to be defined in detail. They have mechas, Descole's machines definitely use puzzle shenanigans, and Dimitri was able to build a pair of glasses which can record a person's memories (aka also related to Hamanier particles). But on the other hand, the average Layton NPC's daily life (Layton himself included) isn't using technology that is more advanced than our own, far on the contrary. It seems that whatever it is that humanity knows about puzzle physics at the time of the main six games, the ability to actually control Hamanier particles remains rather niche (and it seems like Steam Bison might actually give us quite a bit to think about, especially the part where, allegedly, "solving more puzzles will cause the city to evolve technologically").

It's a bit like how humanity has known that electricity existed for aeons (without necessarily understanding how it works), but that it took a while between the moment when the first inventions which were capable of generating/relied on electricity were built, and the moment when every house in the country required electricity for powering nearly everything. I believe the Laytonverse is sitting in that phase where a few scientists in isolated labs were able to find the means to control Hamanier particles, but that due to the costs, or because it's tricky to implement in terms of engineering, or for other reasons, the knowledge of how to control them is either not well-spread just yet, or people just aren't jumping on the hype train to use puzzle magic to power everything in their daily lives because they don't see the point (at least not yet. Once again, let's see how Steam Bison appears when we get to see it in its full glory).

So, applications for puzzles/Hamanier particles in a daily Layton NPC's life? Well, let's see...

First off, something which is kinda used in canon but would deserve to be expanded upon a lot more: using puzzles as basically weapons for delaying someone, like a smoke bomb of sorts (could be offensive, could be self-defence). The dialogue from Luke after you solved London Holiday's Puzzle #009 has him talk as if he just physically had a jog walking on bridges in a tropical archipelago, all the while (as far as we know) he did not leave the confines of Layton's office. So did the puzzle make him hallucinate that? Was Luke temporarily sucked into a pocket dimension until he solved the puzzle??

I'd personally go for the former since the Folsense gas is a thing (and this interpretation does not require to find proof that a) such pocket dimension exists, and b) find an explanation on how it works, where it is located, and how it was created. In short: hallucination wins over pocket dimension thanks to Ockham's Razor). At least some puzzles seem to thus have the ability to trap the person solving them into some sort of trance until they're solved, which depending on the circumstances, could put the person in a rather vulnerable position where they can't interact with their surroundings.

So, list of possible uses:

Weapon for trapping someone inside their own head until the puzzle is solved (no technology required, just fetch a feral puzzle and yeet it at the person's face like a poké ball). Arguably already used in canon, notably with Bishop or Plover in Azran Legacy, and probably in dozens of other cases. It can be of note that their response after the puzzles have been solved is often along the lines of "what the heck! how did you solve it that quickly???", which could be interpreted as some form of "wtf bro it's like if my smoke bomb only lasted two seconds how do you expect me to have the time to make any use of it"

Time travel/teleportation, the former of which we know has been attempted, with near success, only to have the project abandoned. It is more or less likely that the same could be said of the latter; though there is no time paradox to worry about, I do believe that the main mechanism is the exact same as for time travel: it's just that you don't want the other end of the vortex to be set in a different time. So, in short: a bunch of scientists managed to make it work, but as far as evidence shows, they're not to the point of being able to make it safe and practical for everyday use. I'd compare Dimitri's time machine to the real world LHC: humanity's top scientists can do it for science, but the world is absolutely not ready to popularise the technology and have every layman get to buy and play Candy Crush on their own toy LHC (for a number of reasons, and the one asking "How can you even play Candy Crush with a particle accelerator?" comes with the lowest priority).

Speaking of teleportation, it is however possible that some characters actually already use it to some extent...? I'm thinking notably of Granny Riddleton or Keats. Or... perhaps that's also why Pavel is never able to explain how he ends up in the most random places. In any case, I believe that those instances are caused not by Laytonverse steampunk technology, but rather because of these characters' clairvoyance, or because of wild puzzles being particularly feral and kidnapping them across time and space. Poor Pavel must have made a few of them very angry. Or he's psychic and doesn't know it.

There totally is some illegal hint coins trafficking going on in the suburbs of many towns and cities, where most of the buyers are students during the week before their finals.

Scotland Yard and other police forces have a branch dedicated to puzzle-related problems. My personal headcanon is that Colby may actually be stationed in the reception room and rarely ever allowed on the terrain because the times when he is allowed on the terrain, it's because it's an eldritch shenanigans level of puzzle issue.

...

Layton's trunk, which is capable of holding a whole fish tank (just kidding. probably.)

Is the main reason why the Azran were so advanced that they fully understood how to "use" puzzles and their supernatural-seeming properties?

Yes. In Azran Legacy, we have the following quote: "We were masters of technology and science. There was no puzzle we could not solve." Now, of course, it could be coincidence. I could be reading into it too much. But in the light of the puzzle theory... Why couldn't we take it literally? It's not like all this glowing shifting stuff (which is somewhat reminiscent of Descole's Detragigant anyway) wasn't screaming "arguably supernatural" anyway. Also the fact that they can resurrect the dead (no I will never let that one go).

More seriously, the Azran basically turned the Illusory Forest's Ancient Tree into an immortal clairvoyant cyborg who records knowledge about the entire world by using a network of plants worldwide in order to absorb what is basically brain juice (aka Hamanier particles). That thing alone revolves around using puzzle magic to acquire knowledge.

TL;DR: Yes. Definitely. Absolutely.

Could puzzles also be the cause of other weird happenings and traits that humans, plants and animals have in the series? Could puzzles possess living things too and change them?

Believe it or not, that is one of the questions that will either be raised in Stable Like Sand (my own fic) at some point, or has at least been written and will just end up in the pile of cut content that didn't make it in the fic if I can't find a place for it to fit properly. But to paraphrase my notes: "That's usually what the immune system is for."

That being said… We do have a few canon phenomena: Folsense's gas and Labyrinthia's ink causing hallucinations/having strong powers of suggestion, Labyrinthia's water causing people to faint if they hear the sound of a bell made of pure silver… It could also be argued that at least part of the "unknown incurable illnesses" that afflicted quite a few characters throughout the series, sometimes leading to their death, are a result of puzzle decay/possession gone wrong.

It is possible that some in-game puzzles involve fauna or flora having been physically altered for the sake of a puzzle, but I do not recall any specific example, so take that with a grain of salt. I do however remember that Colby, a constable from Scotland Yard, has his chin get longer whenever he smiles (as in it's not just me overanalysing his sprites, it's literally written down on his in-game profile description).

TL;DR: Yep. And the more you think about it, the more horrifying it gets.

Flora Reinhold has the mole in the shape of an apple, that only appears when she is happy/laughing. That isn't really possible, but perhaps that is caused by some sort of puzzle possession?

Yep 👀 (and, unfortunately, this is also why I believe that both her parents died because of puzzle decay/possession)

Could this also be an explanation for the nonsenical disguise abilities Don Paolo and Descole have, that they might partially be literal shapeshifters (or something in that direction?) A shapeshifting-like thing could also explain how Don Paolos hair works, why it is able to move around and shape itself in ways normal hair shouldn't (LF, the scene where he got his horns)

I wish I had an answer for that. For the time being, I am stuck at the stage of raising my fist at the sky and growling "I will figure out a scientifically valid mechanism someday. SOMEDAY. JUST YOU WAIT LEVEL-5, I WILL FIND AN EXPLANATION FOR YOUR CARTOON PHYSICS."

To give some more details: I can say at least that Descole and Don Paolo's disguises don't seem to work the same way. Don Paolo canonically uses latex(?) masks and extra clothes matching the person he's disguised as, which he leaves behind for Luke to collect and try on during the credits of Diabolical Box and Unwound Future. This... would be simple enough if it weren't for the fact that he's the one who somehow managed to disguise himself as Flora.

Meanwhile, Descole… just puts on his hat, and boom there we go the entire cast of characters and the audience alike just went from "A platypus?" to "PERRY the platypus???" So current guess is that instead of a full disguise (although he might still be using some kind of disguise to some extent, I don't remember the mention of latex masks or extra clothes in his case), he instead uses some sort of illusion/hallucinogen mechanic. I wonder whether he ever went to Folsense/Labyrinthia (or other location with similar properties), found out about the gas/other, and managed to weaponise it in order to trick people into seeing and hearing him with a different identity.

By the way, what if the hallucinogenic something that Descole uses is the reason why nobody in-universe was able to see how similar Desmond Sycamore looks to Descole, and why he could just get away with basically wearing the exact same clothes (or at least shoes)? Huh. Perhaps for all we know, he doesn't even bother trying to mimic other people's voices when he's "disguised" as them.

Last minute addition by @toy-pigeon: "i mean if his cologne is so strong that whatshisface in phong gi was able to smell it, maybe THAT'S what the hallucinogen is"

And now back to Don Paolo... I guess his hair could be similar to the examples of Flora or Colby, now that you mention it.

...Maybe one of his experiments made it worse and he actually can somehow fit inside those disguises.

...Oh darn I believe that might be an option and if it's the result of one of his engineering experiments gone wrong you've got even more reason for him to be the way he is, with the diving into super villain mode on a whim and all.

Thank you, I hate it, and I need some ibuprofen because my brain is boiling.

(Man, imagine writing a PL fanfic with a shapeshifter in it and only figuring this stuff out a year and a half later)

Do you think it is significant that in/around puzzle shacks, plant seem to grow in strange ways (there is almost always a tree around, often growing indoors)?

By itself, I wouldn't call that weird or supernatural. There is vegetation everywhere, and it is precisely what the Illusory Forest's Ancient Tree uses to collect knowledge from across the world. Also, Granny Riddleton has her shack inside the Molentary Express for a bit... The miniature tree could be fake, or could take its roots in. um. somewhere...? (it probably makes more sense if it's fake, but I did say earlier that Granny Riddleton may be capable of teleportation, so. there are a couple of hypotheses that may need to not be discarded just yet. but the tweezers I'm using to hold those hypotheses are the size of Clive's fortress.)

If it has any significance at all, it would be related to the Ancient Tree's shenanigans, not to the local laws of physics.

(i also find it strange how flowers grow underground, at the grave of Viola Reinhold. But that might not be caused by puzzles, I think at least)

Also not particularly supernatural looking to me, iirc there was sufficient light in her basement/grave for vegetation to grow relatively well. The sight does not shock me; in fact, a lot of flowers benefit from having sunlight, yes, but not direct sunlight.

If you want an unambiguously unusual example though, look at collection item #13 of Azran Legacy: "Bashful Sunflower - This healthy plant runs contrary to the laws of nature by turning away from the sun." And the original Japanese version if you want it: 「はにかみヒマワリ｜貫録あふれる花と葉をたくわえていながら、おひさまから目をそらすほど内向的な性格」 (Translation: "Bashful Sunflower - Despite its sturdy flowers and leaves, it is so introverted that it turns its eyes away from the sun." So this flower is sentient and extremely shy.)

(It's easier to see if you look at its 3D model in-game, but it is literally using its leaves to hide itself from the sunlight)

…and other plants such as the sunflower in LF being able to store/attract puzzles.

I'd connect that to the Ancient Tree, personally... But it's also basically implying that the plant itself is indeed having strange properties, which may have been developed in its species aeons ago due to exposure to puzzle weirdness (it would be, after all, the explanation for why the Ancient Tree itself was born. Simplest explanation is very simply that the Ancient Tree is a clairvoyant plant, on the same level as Granny Riddleton for example. It just also happens to be a tree, but as we saw a paragraph above, plants also can be sentient in the Laytonverse).

Could puzzle possession be able to alter genes/bodies? If they potentially create little "weird traits" such as Floras apple-shaped mole, or even shapeshifting, then they might have the potential to do even more.

As TL;DR for this whole part of the ask, I will just quote an excerpt from my notes which tried to summarise the puzzle theory in as few words as possible (I now realise that past me had not added this paragraph to the list of screenshots in the post I mentioned at the beginning of this reply. My bad, I believed that it was not that relevant at the time since it wasn't really about puzzles themselves):

The animal experiments in LF were probably meant to test the time travel-capabilities of Hamanier particles.

But apparently, the exposure to them was what caused Subject 3 to become so strangely human-like, apparently altering his body(?) and making him able to "walk".

I would argue that adult Subject 3 doesn't look that much different from his baby self from before he was experimented on. Same for Sherl, he doesn't look particularly "human-like" physically speaking, and doesn't look that much different from other dogs aside from "main character design" syndrome.

(Beasly, on the other hand... Well, seems like Level-5 conveniently baited us by having a whole cutscene where he said he had a whole backstory explaining how he came to be the way he is, only to be silenced by Puzzlette. But I'm putting him aside. And also -- just like Sherl, not every human can understand him. If you try to talk to him while Luke is missing, Layton and Flora don't even acknowledge his presence, let alone are able to understand what he says.)

I'm just going to quote again the screenshot from just a paragraph above, but "Plants/Fauna are WEIRD" in general. Plants are sentient and acquire information that they then convey to the Ancient Tree, animals have some level of sentience regardless of whether they have been experimented on (otherwise Luke wouldn't be able to hold complex conversations with them such as the ones he has with Toppy or with the other rabbit from the Miracle Mask minigame), and they too are able to solve puzzles, once again regardless of whether or not they have been experimented on.

TL;DR I don't believe that the time travel experiments that Subject 3, or the Parrot (Subject 1) suffered from had any significant changes on their body or psyche, other than being traumatising events by themselves.

As a reminder by the way: regarding Sherl, just like Subject 3, Beasly, or other animals, only a couple of humans are able to understand them. In the main six games, Luke and Clark Triton are the only ones canonically known to understand animals (and feel free to watch the Subject 3 scene and the Beasly cutscene from Unwound Future, in both cases Layton really is just standing motionless in the back, metaphorically fumbling his thumbs and waiting for Luke to come back and translate; and once again, when Luke is gone from the group, it is possible to go talk to Beasly... or rather, try).

In LMJ, it seems like Katrielle and Ernest are the only ones able to understand Sherl (unless some other NPC that I don't know about showed up occasionally and everyone went "you can understand him too?????", I did not watch all 50 episodes of the anime yet). Interestingly, Ernest is shocked that he could understand Sherl, so it seems that while Ernest is Special™ somehow, he is not able to understand other animals. And though Katrielle was barely surprised when Sherl showed up at her door, it also doesn't seem like she can understand other animals either. Whatever it is that Ernest and Katrielle have in common with each other but not with anyone else, for them both to be able to understand Sherl... I honestly have no clue (none that even remotely makes any sense, that is).

Aaaaaaand I believe I addressed everything! Phew, that was a lot, and it actually did give me a few things to think about that I had not given enough thought to until now.

So the big TL;DR:

Yes please do use this theory/headcanon in your fanfics/fanart/comics/macaroni collage and please give me links once it's done because I want to see it and give it love.

Puzzle weirdness has a lot of uses indeed, with the only limitations being Laytonverse humanity's current understanding of their own laws of physics (for mad scientist use) and general society's interest for puzzle-based technology (for widespread daily use). It is extremely likely that they do not understand most of the puzzle theory and that they just shrug it all off because it's normal to them. It's just like our own world: do we all commonly understand the entirety of physics? Heck no! And yet it interferes with our lives daily. Physicists in our world are figuring stuff out to this day, sometimes figure out that stuff everyone believed to be obvious in the past is completely wrong, sometimes figure out new stuff that nobody knew was a thing. It's the same thing in the Laytonverse, whether with "regular physics" (assuming those still work the way we know it) or with puzzle physics.

Absolutely-not-widespread uses include but are not limited to: St Mystere's robots (if they are sentient, they most likely rely on Hamanier particles stuff. Also the part about altering Dahlia's memories... Well, just take a look at ->), Descole's Detragan, Dimitri's time machine and mind-reading glasses, probably Descole's mechas in general (on the basis that they are likely inspired from Azran technology to some extent)...

The Azran had totally figured out how puzzles worked, to the extent that they even knew how to resurrect the dead and (allegedly, probably on accident) create an entire race of sentient robots. Go figure.

This post contains a lot of Illusory Forest spoilers (not that they're new to be fair, I've been talking about it for a while and I'm happy I finally get to start sharing the translation with you guys).

Puzzle decay/possession affecting living beings, including humans, is a horrifying subject that I want to tread with caution; but I do believe we have enough instances where it seems to be the simplest explanation, to conclude that it is an unavoidable consequence.

So turns out Descole using a hallucinogenic gas of sorts similar to Folsense or Labyrinthia for his disguises could be an interesting way to explain how he can just put on his tricorn and °magic poof° now he's Descole (whereas Don Paolo needs a bit more time to physically remove his disguises).

How dare you plant into my mind the idea that Don Paolo MAY ACTUALLY(?) have some relatively limited(??) shape-shifting ability(???) I hate how I cannot in the present times come up with a better explanation. I prefer the times when I was just aware of the issue and trying to postpone it for later, meekly hoping that future me would be able to find a rational explanation. You have opened my eyes on the fact that I need to get out of my denial phase and face the issue head on. Even if it means throwing my hands in the air and giving up. I tried looking for a different explanation. I really did.

I believe fauna and flora are Just Like That from the start, because animals in the wild are just as weird as the ones that were experimented on, with the sole exceptions being Sherl, who is more in a grey area than completely sticking out of the norm, and Beasly who is. an interesting case to say the least. (an interesting case I have little to zero clues about for the time being. perhaps he's Subject 2 and what you said about Subject 3 actually applies to him instead. perhaps it is something else entirely.)

To conclude with your last few sentences -- if you intend to study the research aspect of science, good luck and have fun with it! (as much fun as you can have that is-- jk don't worry we're having a lot of fun even if 80% of our job is experiments or simulations not working and us crying because we have no idea what went wrong)

In a weird sense, I like to think of the puzzle theory as a way to introduce a simple enough way to go through the "scientific method" for research: you find something weird, you look for an explanation; and while looking for evidence in favour AND against your temporary explanation (*), you try your darn best to avoid that annoying confirmation bias among many other traps your brain will lay against you. The hardest part is to manage to respect Ockham's Razor (since the "simplest explanation requiring the least amount of assumptions" is surprisingly not always the most obvious one at first glance) and impartiality (because of the above-mentioned confirmation bias, notably).

---

(*) It is very important that we also look for evidence that challenges, or even outright contradicts our current hypothesis on how the thing we're studying works. After all, if your hypothesis is "all raven in the world are black," you can't be 100% confident in that unless you check every single raven in the world and make sure that you don't stumble upon a white one! And if you do find a white (or green with pink polka dots) one, instead of looking away and pretending you didn't see anything, you will adapt your hypothesis: from "all raven in the world are black," it will become "most raven in the world are black; we have looked at a thousand ravens so far and found two white ones, therefore the current state of our research leans towards the conclusion that there are 99.98% of black ravens and 0.02% of white ravens in the world."

[cheriedarlings]

there are things i think about a lot and one of them is fucking chuuya……..,…….,,,,, so if u have any headcanons about how he fucks/what he likes and doesn’t like/how he is in bed in general i would be more than delighted to hear them <333

This is... embarrassingly late, I apologize! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. I’m always happy to write for Chuuya. <3 

AFAB reader, some vaguely fem terms, but gender isn’t mentioned. NSFW content ahead.

A tenacious lover through and through, Chuuya isn’t satisfied until you’re completely spent, only able to pant and whine his name, telling him how good he’s making you feel. Your pleasure is his pleasure, simply put, and he won’t stop until you can’t take anymore.

He’s very handsy with you- your hips, waist, thighs, ass, chest... everywhere. You’re stunning to him and he wants to let you know, especially when you’re getting intimate.

He’s also a huge tease, like, irritatingly so. He practically worships the ground you walk on, but that doesn’t mean he’s not against making your mind spin with how much he’s edging you. Not surprisingly, he likes to throw in some dirty talk as well-- “you’re so dirty, moaning for me like that... maybe if you beg me some more, I’ll give you what you want.”

He’s not picky about positions- any way he can take you is fine with him- but sometimes, good old missionary does the trick. He likes to watch every change in your expression while he’s fucking into you, cooing about you pretty you look like this.

Chuuya has a lot of stamina, so you’ll most definitely be going for more than one round, if you’re up for it. Just sit back and relax, let him do all the work. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, alright?

He’s big on leaving marks on you, wherever he can, especially where you’re most sensitive. On your neck is his favourite, since everyone can see who you belong to, but on your thighs and chest isn’t too bad, either. Honestly? You look so sexy with them to him that it doesn’t matter. Anywhere is good.

He can be quite rough, given his overall demeanor, but if you’re on this blog you probably like that, so it’s fine! You more than likely have some finger-print-shaped bruises on your thighs from how hard he grips you- not to hurt you, not at all, but rather, he gets so into it while you’re on his lap with him kissing your breath away that he can’t help it.

I have to say it. I think he totally has a sir kink. You might have said it as a joke one day, but he instantly got hard from it and thought about it for the rest of the day. If you’ve been being bratty, he will bend you over his lap and spank you until your ass is red, making you say “thank you, sir” every time.

This was mentioned on another one of my posts, but Chuuya is so into you sitting on his face that it would make you laugh. It’s the perfect view, and he gets to grip onto your hips and thighs while you squirm around as his tongue delves into you.

All in all, sex with Chuuya is painfully intimate, and no matter what you two end up doing, it’ll end with you soaking wet and spent like no other. So, what do you say, round 2? 3?

[cyanogen-miasma]

so Sky: Children of the Light has been filling a very Fer.al - shaped hole in my heart (granted there's probably a time gap of about a year between fer.al's shutdown and finding skycotl...when did fer.al shut down again?) but I just realised that Sparks and Sky Kids are actually quite similar

They're both beings of light with a crystal on their forehead, who come into the world formless, and can change their forms to reflect their individuality (a lot more flexibility in fer.al than in skycotl, but I digress)

so a fun idea would be to mash up the two worlds

Spark: Children of the Light

so the way that this may go is:

more similar to fer.al universe -> apocalypse -> more similar to skycotl universe

I think an interesting way to tie in an apocalypse with the fer.al universe (and skycotl's Shard Eruptions) is the real-life apocalypse of Cinder.

A massive Spark with malicious intent crashes into planet Feral (is that what it was called) and corrupts the planet. A wipeout similar to the Eden Diamond occurs and dark creatures run amok. side note, I think Light creatures would be called Sparks, and Dark creatures would be called Cinders.

Now we enter the era in which the Sky Kids find themselves in canon skycotl

the Sparks (which would need a more specific name if 'spark' applies to all light creatures - let's just say Spark Kids for now) would go around and relive spirit memories to gain new cosmetics and emotes, but they would also be able to relive the memories of dead Sparks and gain the forms of the different mythical creatures in fer.al. there would be a Spark Senri, Spark Kitsune, etc

and I think the realms could be combined with each other too

Isle of Dawn + Shattered Bay (both beach environments, and rather small)

Daylight Prairie + Lakeroot Valley (both nice, happy grassland areas)

Hidden Forest + Mugmyre Marsh (both atmospheric forested areas)

Valley of Triumph + City Fera (both canonically big important cities for the native peoples)

Golden Wasteland + Blood Tundra (both spooky and bones everywhere)

Vault of Knowledge + Sunken Thicket (honestly, these two are just the last ones left...but...the tree had multiple levels, I guess???)

the ancestors are all different species that you could find in fer.al, like Valkyries, komodori, kobolds, etc

for example, I envision Fainting Warrior as a Kobold and Lookout Scout as a Komodori

the Watcher is a Krill