#logically I know that not all changes are permanent and most changes are due to circumstances l

[thediktatortot]

Things I wish my brain didn't do on a constant basis:

Immediately jump to the worst conclusions about any change in someone's actions.

Think of things that are triggering and upsetting out of nowhere.

Miss people who've hurt me severely in the past.

Like...come on brain. Please 😵‍💫

[trashiiplant]

I don't really ever post my oc stuff here, probably in fear it wont be received that well but ah, here I go anyway.

I finally made a slugcat oc to accompany my iterator oc, Gaze Upon a Borealis HEHE.... they're very good friends

Some notes of both below the cut:

Gaze Upon a Borealis is an iterator located in the arctic region, making her even more isolated than many other iterators. Their communication network isn't all that great. I currently don't have any proper ocs that would be a part of her local group but I DO know that it's small as hell.

She is very gentle and welcoming of any small creatures that find their way to their can. They worry over every single one every time, aware of how cold it must be for them outside. She often times assists starving creatures.

Their puppet is made to be portable in case she needs to fix some outer damage to her structure by herself. (The Beacon likes helping them with this.) There's hardly ever a proper need for that though, so she simply walks around her facility and admires the view. They gaze upon the aurora borealis often. (ayy)

Borealis can even exit their can for a certain period of time with a built in lift. They like to go on walks with Beacon every now and then.

AND OH BOY.. I rambled a bit while working on The Beacon OOPS

Anyway, here's the text if that's a bit hard to read:

-The Beacon is modified by an iterator, Gaze Upon a Borealis

-Also referred to as "Assistant" by GUB

-Specifically modified to survive the harsh climate of the arctic, where Borealis' can is located.

-Very durable and larger than most slugcats. It is awfully slow but much akin to the Gourmand, it's spear throws are quite deadly.

(2,5 dmg at most, maybe. Depends on the throw)

-Tail is designed to keep it warm, along with the thick fur

-The tail acts as a lantern, it's heat and light may lure in dangerous predators in seek of warmth.

-Rather grumpy and strict in personality. It is extremely wise due to it's old age and has acted as a mentor figure to a few slugcats in it's old colony

-Borealis managed to put it's physical aging to a halt... wont die permanently unless ascended. (screw the logic)

-At night, it's colors change to resemble the northern lights. It's tail even leaves a trail akin to one. Borealis simply thought of it as a pretty feature. Beacon finds it bothersome

-◉◉◉|◉◉◉◉◉◉ Easy peasy food pip req due to the lack of food in the arctic.

The rest is just height comparisons.

[chiscribbs]

Apocalypse Future Donnie Concepts

I wasn't actually planning on posting these until I had a definitive final design to share alongside them, but- It's probably going to be a while before that happens and I feel bad for how inactive this blog has been lately. I've been working on stuff, but only in-between projects, and none of it is really ready to post. So, here's a little something to prove that I am still alive. ❤

Donnie's design is so hard to update. It's just...so good in its simplicity??? Every element feels necessary to his character - so figuring out what to keep, what to get rid of, and what to change slightly is a definite challenge. It's even harder when we're given so little (canonical) information about what role he played in the Resistance and what effects the Krang Apocalypse may have had on him...including how long ago he was killed in relation to the movie. Or how he was killed, for that matter.

So, I'm playing around with some potential ideas and trying to get something that feels right - feels like Donnie, but if he had to adapt to the apocalypse (while also trying to stick to the show's simplistic, shape-heavy style, so nothing too terribly detailed or complex.) I'll share a few of these ideas below, for anyone who's interested.

(Also, yes - I know the spot-goatee is in no way an original concept, but I have a deep affection for it and had to include it in my design.)

One of the concepts I'm considering is giving Donnie a prosthetic leg, something to sort of parallel Leo with his Robo-Raph arm. But in Donnie's case, he probably lost his leg long before Raph was killed or maybe even before he built the robots of his family (maybe this serves as the inspiration or catalyst for the idea.) My working theory is that he was attempting to detonate a mine field full of some Krang dogs and something went wrong which caused him to get caught up in the resulting blast. He was lucky enough to keep his life, but lost his leg and probably some of his hearing in the process. Naturally, because it's Donnie (and because they're living through an apocalypse), the leg will be more than just a prosthetic limb - it'll have some kind of weaponry or technological capabilities built into it. Just haven't decided what that's going to be yet, lol.

I'm also toying with the idea of him creating some kind of "Ninpo Protection Device" - something to act as a defense mechanism against the Krang's mystic-cancelling (or, more accurately, locking) abilities. He's testing it on himself before green-lighting it to be used on his brothers (which, obviously, never happens.) The problem is I can't decide how to visibly convey this idea, I was thinking something along the lines of one of those medical aid devices that become permanent attachments to the user's body. But most of the visible parts of his body are covered in natural armor, save for his limbs and head. So figuring out the best placement for a thing like that has been a little challenging.

I was considering giving him a mechanical hand along with/in place of the robotic leg, as well. Reason being - he works primarily with his hands and almost never wears practical protection gear (another thing I tried to partially remedy with the addition of the gloves), so if any part of him is going to be lost, his hands would be the logical first choice. I also think there's a poetic element to the guy who relies on his tech becoming more and more "mechanical" himself (but only in the physical sense). It would also imply that there was a time when he couldn't work as efficiently on his own as he normally is able to, due to having one less hand, so there was likely an adjustment period wherein he had to lean into his mystic abilities (and the aid of others around him) far more than he's used to doing. A little background character development for him, because I love that kind of stuff.

These are about all of the definitive concepts I have for him at the moment, but obviously, I'm nowhere near having a finished design just yet. So, all of these could potentially be scrapped or tweaked in the final version.

If you read this far - kudos! And thanks for your interest! :>

[asherisawkward]

Isn't it likely that Caleb got people killed too? Philip killed more, yes, but if he did, doesn't that make Caleb a murderer as well?

Does the fandom not bring this up because the show never showed him doing that?

Also, isn't Caleb leaving Philip forever with Evelyn and never returning just a really popular fan theory (something that people made up to paint Philip in a certain light)?

I know there's the one portrait that shows him taking off with her all excited, but the writers never bothered putting that in 'Hollow Mind" even though they could have (so it's technically not canon) + things are sometimes not always what they seem.

For all we know, Caleb could have decided to come back with Evelyn a day or two after leaving to get Philip (maybe they didn't come back right away because they didn't have Titan's blood to make a new portal), only to find that he was gone (he was already in the Isles) and maybe Caleb thought he was dead, which is why when he does find him in the Demon Realm he hugs him.

Caleb could have also been leaving with Evelyn because she wanted to show him something and promised that she would bring him back afterwards and Philip just so happen to see Caleb leaving and took it as him being kidnapped or leaving forever.

Another thing is Caleb looks like he didn't see Philip as he was running away with Evelyn (I know he doesn't have a character but it feels ooc for Caleb to see his little brother and smile leaving him).

I believe that Caleb has killed people due to his enthusiastic participation in witch-hunting with Philip in their youth. He’s also been seen to have looked up to the members of town that did the witch-hunting before the brothers were old enough to take part. Masha additionally said that they both became witch hunters, suggesting that it was their profession as opposed to Caleb’s popularly assumed job as a carpenter. I think the reason that it is overlooked by most of the fandom is that Caleb eventually becomes disillusioned with Gravesfield’s witch-hunting behaviors and gets out of the environment.

Here’s the thing about your comments on the permanence of Caleb’s leaving: Evelyn had to know how and where to get Titan’s Blood in the first place for her to be able to travel between worlds to visit Caleb in Gravesfield, and Eclipse Lake was a popular mine and lake that were known to have Titan’s Blood. It makes no sense that Evelyn and, by extension, Caleb wouldn’t know where to get more if they ran out. After all, Evelyn had been using it to travel for ages, and Caleb probably got told whenever he visited with her.

That logic would indicate that there was a way for them to get back. The question becomes, then, why didn’t Caleb come back? There were clear years between when Caleb left and when Philip arrived at the Boiling Isles (indicated by a change in hair length and some proportions), so why didn’t Caleb ever come back? The fact that Masha is completely unaware of the fate of the brothers Wittebane shows that he never returned to Gravesfield while Philip was gone. Caleb never came back after that night.

Finally, from what we see of the reunion between Philip and Caleb, he doesn’t seem like he had been worried or apologetic for his brother’s years of isolation and terror. He doesn’t behave like someone who spent years being unwillingly separated from his brother or worried sick about him. He looks healthy, happy, and safe. He’s thriving, and he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the years since the brothers saw each other beyond a “Long time, no see” style greeting.

All of this just indicates that Caleb was not the amazing person that a lot of people think he was, but you are welcome to your opinion on the matter!

[dolloshub]

It’s been awhile….

Update within

Echo here! Sigh. It doesn’t even know where to begin, but as OS likes to say certainly not at the beginning.

Perhaps the most logical place to start- because dolls of course are always completely logical, is on the absence.

This could be explained in a variety of ways, but what it really comes down to is that the brain has been having more and more seizures, pushing the timeline for brain surgery from six-eight months away to less than six weeks.

It’s not gonna lie and say everything is sunshine rainbows and lollipops, but what it can and will say is that it’s still here, doll remains, and it continues everyday to try to be its best.

It found a new Owner, who is very much in the Cgl corner of our community. It mentions this in the middle because it’s not a permanent placement yet- he doesn’t know if he’ll want to be doll’s owner after six months- the period to which he committed to- enough time to get doll neurologically stable.

He fully supports the doll identity, and if things go beyond six, now five months, it’s likely going to be indefinite. He is unfamiliar with the brainwashing hypno programming side of things, so we are right now focusing on the caregiving aspects of the relationship.

As for me, I’m coming to terms with the fact that I’m still addicted to intelligence and being perceived as the girl that’s put together and and and.. it’s all an addiction and illusion. I am perhaps really just beginning to understand that I might actually be lovable, able to forgive myself for turning my back on a five year plan, and be content in a smaller world, where my life is focused and an extension of my owner.

This doll experiment started when the girl who was reached the point where existing for her own sake was no longer enough. She knew that which got her as far as she was would ultimately destroy her. This being unrelenting standards.

Now this Echo, she’s understanding that just because you can get a proper diagnosis doesn’t mean you can fix the problem. It, Echo- all of doll is likely going to be forever be tempted by unrelenting standards and being unable to stop ourselves.

This is why It and OS, and It assumes the rest of the apps are labeling this pull as an addiction. It is also this pull that makes being owned a necessity. We can admit that we can not be trusted to stop, it is beyond us, our control. The only way to stop is to be stopped. A strong willed doll, who won’t stop, can’t stop, and is unowned- well that’s a doll that’s on its way to self destruction.

So whether or not it’s found it’s forever owner, it’s current owner is keeping it safe and is fully aware that his doll can never be unowned again. So if he decides to let me go, this doll will be given to an owner that it’s compatible with.

Because there is so much of this future unknown tied into the health aspects- can any relationship stand up to a this level of stress and one side having their brain on fire? .. we simply don’t know.

For this reason only limited modifications are going to be permitted on doll. The deeper lasting changes will come in due time, with its current owner or another. The programmable girl is still here, and fighting for its survival, and finally accepting the knowledge that it’s survival is dependent on being stopped. And so it will continue to try and be its best.

~Echo~

[the-air-nomad]

Our duty (Part 1)

this is an AU where Yue lives and Hakoda is chosen as the king of the entire southern water tribe, 

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/the-air-nomad/719125972910309376/our-duty-part-2?source=share

           Five years had passed since the end of the Hundred Years War. After Ozai's defeat, the lives of avatar Aang and his friends had become even more charged than they were during the war. The avatar and his girlfriend, respected maestra Katara, were working on finding the remains of the air nomad culture and on preparing their wedding. Toph, the most powerful earthbender , had founded the first metalbending school in the world, and all the young people in the earth kingdom hoped to have the honor of becoming her students. The fire lord worked tirelessly to restore ties with the other nations and eliminate propaganda and Ozai's loyalists left after the war. 

        Sokka, now the crown prince of the Southern Water Tribe, had made countless diplomatic trips to other nations to facilitate the growing development of the South. Thanks to his inventions, his tribe had become an important industrial and cultural center. The prince even founded the first University of Engineering and Exact Sciences in the world. Although Sokka loved helping his people and considered his father one of the wisest people in the world, he could not understand the logic of his new decision. 

   Sokka: To recap, you want me to break up with Suki to arrange my marriage with the girl I left almost 6 years ago to continue my journey with the avatar.

   Hakoda: Sokka, you know that your relationship with Suki is already over because you both have different debts to your people. She moved permanently to the island of Kyoshi to train the next generation of fighters. You have to prepare to take over the leadership, and for that you need a wife

 Sokka: From what I can see, the fact that you don't have a wife doesn't stop you from being an extraordinary leader. However, don't tell Katara that I said that because I don't want to spend the rest of my life buried in ice.

 Hakoda: sometimes I forget that you inherited both my sarcasm and intelligence my son. I was afraid that I would have to burden you with another state problem.

Sokka: what are you talking about dad?

Hakoda: you see my dear, technically our tribe is still a colony of the northern water tribe. Not even the fact that the North ignored the South for a hundred years doesn't change that. With the help of Master Pakku, former General Iroh and the fact that your sister is engaged to the avatar we managed to get an agreement with Chief Arnook.

Sokka: And why didn't I find out about this sooner? Father, I fought in the war and I am your heir! How can you hide such a thing from me?!

Hakoda: Now is not the time to ask or offer explanations, but I swear this is the last thing I'm hiding from you. In a few weeks, a convoy of northern ships loaded with waterbenders will arrive in the South with the Chief and his daughter.

Sokka: maybe it's just the paranoia installed in the marrow of my bones due to the war, but this sounds quite threatening.

Hakoda: I'm afraid you're right and that if we refuse the generous offer of the Nordic Tribe, we'll get a civil war instead of independence.

Sokka: wonderful, this is the best present for my 21st birthday! Why does the universe hate me so much?!

Although I do not own the characters from avatar the last airbender, this work belongs to me! I sincerely hope you liked it and please rate it and leave a comment! follow me to see the continuation and to see my next posts! 💖💖💨

You can buy me a coffe if you want:  buymeacoffee.com/TheAirNomad

[abyssmalice]

this post appeared and stole all my brainworms because it is SO fundamentally tol tonicore like i NEED to talk about what about it makes my brain whirl so madly -

like, the elder toni has a lot of issues yes, but her main issue is that she never quite processed her grief over the tragedies of her personal life. yes, she seems like she has well and adjusted to everything, to her circumstances - and to an extent she has! but in truth, she hasn’t finished mourning it all.

her world is gone, her home is gone, her family is gone, her aspirations and her reasons for living are gone. the only thing she kept in the aftermath of the world’s end is herself, her life, and she has repurposed it for the sake of the irminsul—which due to the duties involved, means she has to cede her own self to an extent at times. she has nearly nothing. the closest thing to a desire is the satisfaction she feels on knowing that when everything ends, the irminsul will record it all. she will record it all, in her own memory.

which, in a sense, means that nothing is truly gone. so, logically, all that she has lost so far isn’t gone either. while vanished from reality, at least, at so very least, an ephemeral but true record of them exists. the memory of what she loves remains.

and for someone with nothing, something is better than nothing.

but as such, this line of thinking has become her coping mechanism. her one, untouchable fact that allows her to deny that she’s lost everything completely, permanently. this allows her to maintain a sense of mental stability after the harrowing things she’s been through - but it won’t change the fact that if that foundation crumbles, she will go through a deep mental breakdown otherwise

put through the stages of grief - if the little toni constantly cycles between Anger and Bargaining and Depression, then the elder toni has been firmly sitting on Denial for millennia.

a part of her though likely realises this, and this is why she always watches the world through the leylines attentively. she awaits the one cycle of the world where it doesn’t end in war and fire and ash, in enduring peace and happiness for all that she cares for in every version of reality. she watches for new decisions, different outcomes. once she sees that, she will be able to rest easier with the new knowledge that a better future does exist and, most likely, will have the strength to withstand any future threats that endanger all those beloved.

but until then, she will remain, forever - to speak for the dead, to remember them. because until there is no one left to remember their existence, then they aren’t lost. they are still here, with her:

“...If the story lasts forever, so will you. yes, you die in the end. yes I am the only one who remembers. yes I am the only one who knows. But if I never say it aloud, maybe you won't die. maybe this time orpheus won't turn around.

...

maybe this time we survive it together. and the next time, you can tell this story with me. maybe everyone survives and we don't have to tell the story at all. maybe they don't.

...

let me speak for a little bit longer.

...

I'm sorry. I'm not ready for you to die.”

[c0ntr0lledchaos]

A Compass

(originally posted in may of 2023)

 The compass felt cold and heavy in Mara’s hand, smooth and faded from years of use. Scars were littered across her hands, contrasting with the pale blue nail polish she had recently applied. Goosebumps ran up her arms as she leaned forward on the kitchen counter, feeling the cool quartz on her forearms. She sighed and stared at the compass, searching for some magic answer to appear in the cracked glass or wherever the needle was pointing. Sadly, it remained a normal compass, the needle permanently pointing north.

 Outside the kitchen walls, music blared. There was a party in progress, a ‘we might die soon’ kind of party. There were people in this group who had dangerous jobs, but she figured before they were usually pretty confident in their abilities versus their enemies' abilities, so they didn't have as much to worry about as they do now. This mission was different though, it wasn’t for pay or personal gain like usual for this group of criminals and hitmen. Mara didn’t know them all too well, but she knew that for this mission, they all had a lot more to lose than they were used to. It was understandable that they wanted to have one last night of fun before possibly dying. Josie on the other hand, couldn’t die, but Mara figured that she just liked any chance she got to have fun.

 The living room door opened behind her. She heard a person take a few steps before stopping when they saw her, their shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor. Their feet dragged slightly, probably slightly drunk by now as the drinking had started about an hour or two ago. The air in the room grew more tense by the second as they stared at her. Mara knew exactly who it was.

 “What? You here guarding beer or something?” Skylar asked, slurring their words a bit. They were never a big drinker when Mara knew them, but things could have changed in the years they’ve been apart.

 “I’m not doing anything,” Mara said, pocketing the compass as she turned around to face them. As soon as she was met with their glare, she regretted turning around. Years of anger had been left to sit and rot a hole in their heart, and Mara knew it was her fault.

 They looked tired or drunk. It was difficult to tell with some people, and both were equally possible right now. Their long braid was coming undone and she could see dark circles under their eyes. Mara found herself examining them out of habit, used to taking in all the information she could about her surroundings. She noticed the way they were swaying slightly, just as she had noticed the door to the garage was unlocked, or that there was a knife block within her reach if she needed it.

 “What was that?” Skylar said, using their empty beer bottle to point at Mara.

 “What was what?”

 “You just put something in your pocket. What was it?”

 Mara felt her face heat up and rolled her eyes to hide she was avoiding eye contact. She really wished she had been facing away from them now.

 “It’s nothing. I just put my phone back in my pocket,” she lied.

 "No, it wasn’t a phone,” Skylar said, as observant as ever even under the influence of alcohol. “Are you stealing something?”

 “I am not stealing!” Mara said, frustrated.

 "You are! Give it back!” Skylar said, taking a few steps towards her.

 “I told you, I didn’t steal anything!” Mara said, crossing her arms in front of her. It hurt a bit, to be accused of something like that. It’s not that she had never stolen anything before but she didn’t do it randomly. She thought Skylar knew her better than that. The logical side of her brain said it was most likely due to their inebriation, but it still hurt.

 Skylar gritted their teeth and held up their hand, their shadow shooting from the floor toward Mara’s pocket. Mara dodged to her side, noting Skylar’s accuracy and response time were slower than usual.

 “Jack let us into his home and you have the nerve to steal from him, I shouldn’t be surprised!” Skylar yelled, preparing to attack again. Their shadow rose up like snakes ready to bite, slithering around Skylar’s ankles.

 “What is that supposed to mean?!” Mara yelled back, the air shifting. All Mara wanted was to be left alone and not be accused of something she didn’t do, let alone be attacked for it.

 “You are a selfish asshole!” Skylar reached with their shadows again, now aiming to grab onto Mara’s arm instead. She dodged again and the wind picked up more, Mara’s dark curly hair blowing around her face.

 “I did not steal!” Mara shouted. A small storm cloud started to grow near the ceiling above her. Small flashes of lightning appeared in the cloud, followed by low thunder as Mara’s anger and frustration got the better of her. So much for the years of training she did to keep her powers under control. Skylar always brought out the parts of her she tried to keep hidden.

 “Liar! All you do is lie to me!”

Mara froze at the statement, giving Skylar the chance to dart forward, reaching with their hand and shadow towards the compass. Mara reacted without thinking and a small amount of lightning shot out of the cloud, striking the ground just behind Skylar. They both stood there, unmoving as Mara processed what she almost did. The lighting wouldn’t have killed them, but it would definitely have hurt, and maybe even burned their skin.

 “Sky… I-I didn’t-”

 “Why do you still have this?”

 The question caught Mara off guard and she looked down at Skylar, following their eyes to the compass in their hand.

 “Oh…” Mara said softly. The room felt deathly quiet now that the wind had stopped. The music on the other side of the walls seemed far away now. “It's useful… I can control the weather better if I know where I am… wind direction… stuff like that…”

 “I gave this to you…” Skylar said softly, looking up at Mara.

 “You can have it back-”

 “No! I just... didn't expect you to keep it after… everything,” Skylar mumbled.

 “What? Am I just supposed to throw away the only present anyone has ever given me?” Mara said sarcastically, chuckling softly. Skylar gave a half-hearted laugh, a sad smile on their lips. Mara stared down at the compass, remembering the last time it was in Skylar’s hand.

 Memories of white walls and gaps between security cameras came to mind. She remembered Skylar giving her the compass, saying something about it being an anniversary. Mara had forgotten but Skylar reassured her that they didn’t mind. They both seemed so young then.

 Mara was lost in memories, not noticing how Skylar’s free hand reached for hers. As soon as their hand touched hers, it was like she was there again. The sounds of someone shouting orders at her filled her ears and her hand throbbed from the wounds that had healed a long time ago. She couldn’t help but flinch away.

 “Sorry… I forgot,” Skylar said softly, pulling their hand away. They hesitated before holding up the compass.

 “Oh you know… no pain no gain…” Mara weakly attempted to joke. She stared for a moment before gently taking the compass out of Skylar’s equally scared hand. Mara had always been a little jealous of Skylar for that, having gone through the same upbringing and training as she had, but with the ability to have physical contact with other people without being brought back to the pain that used to come with it.

 “I think we went throw to much pain for to little gain.” With that, Skyler took a step back and walked over to the fridge, opening it up. Mara stayed where she was, staring at the compass for a moment. She forced herself to take a deep breath, shaking off the lingering thoughts of the past. She pocketed the compass and leaned against the wall to watch Skylar grab another beer from the fridge.

 Skylar grabbed their drink and turned, tossing the empty bottle in the trash. They started to walk out of the kitchen but paused in front of the door.

 “You should come out and join us… Might not get another chance,” Skylar said before exiting the room.

 Mara stared at the door, feeling the weight of the compass in her pocket and the decision on her shoulders. She wanted nothing more than to leave her past behind, to move on and start again as Skylar had, but was she able to?

[mirceakitsune]

Wanted to start by saying this is NOT a call to attack FA: Unlike the Twitter mob that came after several of us last week, I don't do mobs to harass people. But it does intend to show the extent of the abuse happening on the platform, to the point where logic is pushed to the very limit just to go against artists the site considers undesirable. Needless to say this isn't getting posted on Furaffinity, both because it contains the image I was banned for and joking which is officially forbidden there I guess.

After initially being banned for a week due to the fact that 7 years ago I sketched some joke about foxes eating babies, I was then banned permanently for my latest 3D render. Upon contacting the staff they must have realized how utterly absurd that was so they reverted to the original temporary ban. While this was definitely good news in the moment, I feel there's a huge problem that needs addressing fast.

After new year I made a joke render about the January 6 capitol riot, consisting of bunnies beating and humping secret agents to catch politicians with a news caption calling them the far-right. I never imagined someone would find a way to argue such a thing is against any TOS on the planet, presuming the silly tone made it clear this is intended as pure parody. They not only considered it worthy of a PERMANENT ban, but went for the most absurd route possible in doing so: Suggesting it's COVID misinformation of all things. Two years ago I was warned to stop talking about COVID and ever since I have respected that wish… despite this the ban message suggested they removed more journals where I somehow violated this rule while listing this image as the main reason.

Obviously I didn't care to support or promote anything there: I just realized January 6th would be a fun subject for a project to have fun with. Nowadays I don't even believe most stories about election fraud since Republicans failed to bring more evidence to light… QAnon I legit consider crazy on most things, not all but most of what they say goes too far even for me. If there was any intent involved, it was making people stop taking everything so god damn seriously an making it a taboo you can't even poke fun at… same thing comedians do and are now getting beaten up for on stage for, once upon a time a certain Charlie Hebdo got shot up for it. Unfortunately the people who practically run FA are more in line with how the Taliban reacts when someone makes a caricature of Allah or Mohamed: We're at the point where fun is literally banned if it offends the religiously strict ideology of the day. And thing is, they could at least update their TOS to say "any joke that could offend us is forbidden"… instead they use deliberately vague rules that can randomly apply to anything so anyone can target you if they have it in for you.

I'm not among those who think Dragoneer is evil: I don't know him but from my few interactions and what I've seen he's a pleasant person. He's completely lost control of the site though: Whoever is both writing the rules and appointing moderators are literally doing whatever the heck they want. I literally don't feel I know what can even be posted on the platform any more: Even if I depressed myself by reading their bizarre TOS periodically just to remember every crazy little detail, it's applied so broadly you can't know what will practically get you in trouble just by reading it. In this case it doesn't say anywhere "joking about something automatically means promoting something else that's slightly correlated".

Unless Elon Musk buys FA like Twitter, I don't see much changing to be honest. None the less I at least wanted others to see how bad it is given it's a general current. If in the year 2023 it's literally a crime to draw a simple joke on a mainstream art site, anyone with some awareness should be terrified of where we're once more headed: You know it's bad when you have to make a parody of a parody about being attacked for making a parody.

[b000mbayah]

Yandere twice confessing to S/O

Requested: yes

Warnings: mentions of death, violence (e.g strangling), forced love, mentions of stalking

¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!¡!

Nayeon

In order to carry out her extremely reliable plan, she'd need to sweep away her insane and erratic behaviour and instead, put on a sincere and loving facade.

It worked too, she hadn't broken in place, nor had she cracked in embarrassments. She was really doing this, there's no opting out now.

"Y/n, may I have your attention?"

With an angelic smile, she'd confess her feelings, making sure to not go overboard as it will most likely scare you off.

She'd pour her words upon you, giving you zero chances to speak as she does so. You may only listen and do as she says. 

It doesn't matter if you reject her now, you'll end up together in the end.

Jeongyeon

Her eyes fixated on you, her words caught in her throat. She hadn't planned this out yet, making this all that much more meaningful as it now all comes from the heart.

"Y/n-" Jeongyeon breathes in a heavyweight gasp of air, polluted with her negative energy and desire for you.

"I have to tell you something" She'd shade her eyes, staring down upon the flooring as her mind turns rotten.

"It's important" she added to her previous sentence, also adding to the tension of the entire situation by doing so.

And just like that, after the short pause of course, she confessed using her civil side to eventually get the words out.

During the process, she couldn't find it in herself to look at you, yes she's obsessed with you but she just became so shy that you had found it adorable.

Momo

It's not enough, that's not and neither is this. Her mind was going through all kinds of wars. Wars of piteous beauty and gruesome blood. It was chaos in her head.

Her eyes were rooted to your own, staring deep into you, touching the brink of your soul by doing so. 

"How do i put this" Momo questions out loud, rubbing her clammy hands together as her nerves pick up a level.

The overexposed gulp and her heavy blinks were missing the point, the point to stay calm. The assignment of which Momo had assigned herself was to not get nervous, it's safe to say she was failing that already.

Momo had shut off her logical thinking for a brief moment and before she knew it, she had done it. Momo had asked you out, her prime victim for her sometimes overbearing love.

You're in for one heck of a ride if you accept and embrace her feelings for you.

Sana

It was obvious this was coming, her recent flirtatious comments had picked up by a significant amount. You got one every few minutes or so.

She was confident then, but even more so now. Having Sana staring at you, in a space where it's just you two, had you feeling slightly on edge but you knew you had nothing to fear. It's just Sana…

It's not like she's capable of mass murder or anything.

"Guess what~" Sana would smile with her goofy but lovable smile plastered onto her face.

Although Sana asked you the question, she was the one to answer it before you even got the chance to open your mouth.

Sana would just straight up tell you, still in her goofy mood to hopefully raise the bar, raising her chances of success.

Jihyo

Her intention was to tell you something, anything. Whatever she could share in the moment. Surprisingly, she had successfully done it too. 

Though, it was more of an accident..

Since Jihyo is almost always so stressed due to… sinister reasons... it makes things hard for her, the stress certainly makes her commit regrettable mistakes.

Like the confession she had let out just a moment ago.

Her hands had instinctively clasped over her mouth as her eyes looked shut permanently. "I didn't say that.." She'd mumble, her brain dying as it murders itself from.

Even though Jihyo had made this mistake, it may form and mold itself. It could change. For all Jihyo knows, this could shape up to be her best mistake yet.

Mina

Mina didn't beat around the bush, instead, she cut straight through it, just like the fleshy obstacles that stopped Mina from getting to you. 

She'd look upon her hands, the hands of which strangled and murdered those who dared to get close to you. Those who dared to prevent you from becoming her rightful property.

It was a satisfying experience indeed, an interesting one too. Although Mina is sinful in that way, she's still that mysterious, timid kid in the back of the class.

She's still as silent as ever, even now as she sits on the other side of your desk, gently placing her hand against yours.

With those mystery expressions barged aside, a new one was found. A face that looked so careful, one so loving.. one so admirable.

 She didn't really need words, but she used them anyway, whispering in her godly voice to confirm she loves you like a lover.

Dahyun

You've been on her mind too much lately, too much to go undetected. It was extremely annoying to the lovestruck woman and so she gave in, Dahyun decided to just drag you to the nearest empty studio within the building.

That's where she'd confess, that way you can finally see her love for what it is, insane.

"Look at me" Dahyun aggressively grabs your face, caressing it as she glares at you. 

The actual confession itself was short and snappy, straight into it. Due to Dahyun being that demanding and controlling type, she'd force you to date her.

It's like an unwritten rule in her society. "Have them fear you to serve" you seems to be what Dahyun lives off of.

She doesn't need to hide her feelings anymore, she's free now. You'll love her now.

Chaeyoung

Her smile shines brighter than a thousand suns during the day. It's so bright and full of positivity that no one could ever compare. 

Now, Chaeyoung's style of admitting that she likes you is certainly different. The younger girl would sketch you, adding the love note on the sheet so you'd see it when she shows you her drawing.

"Ready y/n?" She'd giggle like a child when you nodded with impatience, finally showing you the sketch, including the small declaration of her love.

Her heart would be beating faster than ever, sweat piling upon her smoothed skin and her breathing volume tremendously picking up.

By the time you looked back up at her, Chaeyoung was staring down at you, her lower jaw trembling half in fear, half in anticipation.

Either way, she loves you forever. From the first time she saw you till the afterlife...

Tzuyu 

She's been planning it for weeks, maybe even months now. Her bin is always overflowing with her crumbled up love confessions that she had written on paper.

Tzuyu isn't one to take action by saying it in person, hence the stalker side of her. If she was any different, she would've gone for it by now, but she is who she is, and you saw no complications in that.

All of her attempts just seemed too desperate and sappy. It had frustrated Tzuyu in the long run, but once she was happy with one, she sent it right over to you.

She had little to no hesitation. Tzuyu won't need your response, you don't need to tell her. She'll know right from the moment you read it…

She'll know because she'll be there, stalking you in the moment.

[naamahdarling]

Thing is, I actually really want to live. But I'm not getting the support I need to do that.

Depending on severity, disabled people live 10 or 20 years less than nondisabled people. Not really because we have something "wrong" with us, but because of lack of care, medical discrimination, and the constant fear and stress and the effects that has on a person. Homelessness, addiction, hit us hard at all ages.

I'm scared of what's coming. I'm hearing a lot of people talk about bailing out to Canada, I can't run. No government wants to let us in because we are a "burden". They say that. Out loud! And put a numerical value to that. A number they set when we are too much of a drain on the system. Canada raised it recently, and gave themselves a nice pat on the back for it. Disgusting.

People like me should be supported, but when it comes time to DO that, governments won't, and the social justice movement here has more or less forgotten about us or written us off as inevitable casualties. Even in our local queer community there's nobody volunteering to come help us clean or cook, to help us do the dirty work of survival, when that is what we need most day to day.

Roe is down. I am devastated. Now suddenly everyone's scared that Obergefell might come down, the next logical big target. Y'all, it NEVER gave the queer disabled community the right to marry without harsh penalty. We were left out, feeling joy for our queer community and grief for our disabled community. When other queer people said things like "marriage doesn't matter, it's an irrelevant goal", I felt it like a physical slap in the face. We need the legal protections DESPERATELY, even more than your average abled queer couple. No amount of other paperwork will provide those protections in the moments when you need it most and you need it fast.

On that day, that beautiful, joyful day, when the rainbow flags waved and everyone cried and cheered (me too) I didn't see a single nondisabled person bring it up. When we spoke out, we were harshing the buzz and can't you just let us have this victory?

No! Because it wasn't a slam dunk victory. Not even for abled people. You could become disabled, permanently, tomorrow! And abled people need to UNDERSTAND that and act accordingly.

I don't know what I'm saying. Just...we need extra support, NOW, and it isn't coming from the government, so it has to come from inside.

You know disabled people, they are present in your life. The queer community has a high rate of mental illness (I believe due to widespread trauma). Wouldn't surprise me if the same were true of other forms of disability, too. You may not see physically disabled people in your friends circle, your public community events, groups, or meetings, your barbershops and bars and quirky queer districts - that's because it's hard for them to make it there, or impossible. But they exist.

We need YOU, abled people, to step in. Ask us what we need help with. And do it. And maybe while you're at it, while you're organizing abortion funds and legal paperwork, organize some help for disabled people, because as a group we are less capable of doing that work. We can't do it alone.

How you treat disabled people is how, barring sudden death or considerable money, YOU will be treated someday. Change it now.

[see-arcane]

Final Thoughts

I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. On the one hand, it wasn’t The Absolute Worst version I could have dreamed up. On the other hand, it felt a lot like getting a bullet to the head rather than the expected slow agony of a Jigsaw trap. On the third hand, it just...

Well, yes, it was always going to be a tragedy. But beyond a satisfyingly curt [SOUNDS OF BRUTAL PROMOTION] on Jonah Magnus, Jon and Martin didn’t get anything at the end. No last second victory, no salt-in-the-eye to the Web. Nothing. We get to see exactly why the Web made Jon so forgetful of the lighter--blanking on Georgie taking it the episode before--and whatever Jon might have been planning against the Web, against the Big Fear Move, it was all torn away before he could even try anything.

The Web has presumably won its apotheosis. And it never, ever suffered a single consequence. We can guess that it likely never will. Which really is incredibly on point as far as existential/cosmic horror goes. The Cthulhu Mythos and similar flavors of grand scale horror are fearsome on a solely supernatural and unfathomable level. But this?

This we can and do fathom. We know exactly what the Fear(s) wants. We know what it is capable of. What it will do. And that isn’t where our misery comes from: it’s the fact that there was no way to win. No way to change anything. Nothing to do but pass it on to the next victim; or victims, plural. That’s what makes me sit back in agonized awe of it. Not any of the phobias made solid. Just the pure crushing defeat of it all. It’s a deflating, stagnant recognition of helplessness that twists the knife far worse than any mere bogeyman. 

Jon did everything he could and failed. The only plan that ‘went right’ was the one the Web decided upon, which was designed to inflict itself and its kin on other worlds. The Only Success Allowed is the Success of Your Tormentor. 

God. God. 

I will say I liked the implications of that last scene; that Simon Fairchild and the rest of the depowered sadistic avatars got what was coming to them. (Much as I still love her, I honestly hope Annabelle Cane suffered some severe Mastermind Buyer’s Remorse when she realized she was left high and dry by her patron. Whoops. (For Oliver’s sake, I hope he was either spared or was finally allowed to die peacefully.))

Much as I loathe all the “Hope-hope-hope-Let’s-make-ourselves-feel-better-by-pretending-we-don’t-know-we-willingly-fucked-over-another-infinity’s-worth-of-victims-hope-hope-hope-!” talk from the survivors, I do appreciate the fact that it is an ambiguous “end” for Jon and Martin.

No bodies likely means they went with the Panopticon down the drain. Martin had to kill Jon to make that happen. Which can mean one of two things.

1) Martin is with the Fears alone--hello brand new Lonely avatar status--unless he found a way to end himself too. That’s the short version. Very neat.

Which makes me doubt it. So we turn to:

2) Jonathan “Too Inhuman to Stay Dead” Sims bounced back again. This isn’t just wishful thinking talking. Not counting his survival post-Unknowing, he was still the most powerful thing on two legs due to the Eye and the Change ritual. Martin being able to kill him made nightmare logic sense--but in the presence of the Fears, sans Terminus, death remains a temporary state. 

Jonah absolutely fucked off to the Corpse Roots in those final moments, may he rest in piss.

But Jon? Jon who was willing to sacrifice everything of himself since day one and was long past fear of dying? Jon who is the Eye’s Chosen Pupil? Jon who I’m sure in my bitterest heart of hearts is still far too ripe for torment for the Web to just let go, free from its strings at last?

I think this ‘death’ was as permanent for him as hitting the off switch on a tape recorder.

Which is all a long way of saying I think Jon is still alive with the Fears in their new playground, along with Martin. I honestly believe that. I believe this without any of the bells and whistles of wishful thinking. Because I frankly can’t tell--or don’t want to tell--if survival was a good or bad thing. Just that it’s very likely.

Thank you for the nightmare, Jonny Sims. It was horrible. I loathed it. I feared it.

I cannot wait to listen again. 

Supplemental:

For what it’s worth, Jon did confirm one important thing for us post-Pupil. The Web is making assumptions. Theorizing about what waits for it on the other side of Hill Top Road. It is likely we and all our interdimensional neighbors are there, true. But I do like to think that the fact of its obliviousness to what’s actually waiting there means it will meet something unexpected. 

To borrow one of the Web’s favorite words, perhaps it is another smorgasbord of waiting victims, free for the taking.

Perhaps not. 

Perhaps the Fears are not alone. 

Perhaps, even if we do not get to hear it, there is some catharsis waiting on the other end of the chasm. A frightful realization made too late that perhaps the Fears were only ever a big fish in its own small pond.

And now that the Web has swam the Fears out into the open ocean with no way back, perhaps now is when they realize they were never the apex predators they thought they were. Only a schoolyard bully faced with the sudden presence of a threat, or threats, infinitely greater than themselves.

Perhaps they have finally knocked on the wrong door. And what lurks on the other side has happily, hungrily welcomed them in. 

[szanne7000]

Amazing how you're so active in this community but stay silent on all your fav creators being total scumbags doxing and tracking people.

Hi Nonny,

I’m going to respond to your anonymous statement because I want to…

I want to state with full clarity that I fully support creators whether they are free, early access, or exclusive. This is their time, effort, artistry, and money. It isn’t mine nor yours. I choose to support multiple creators in a variety of ways – comments, random cups of coffee, Ko-fi, donations, and, yes, Patreon.

I am a cc fan. I love cc. In fact, I love it so much that I have more than I’ll ever be able to use (especially when you add in all the swatches!) in my lifetime! I spend my money on this, not yours. I choose to do this because I value what creators do for this community – even if some have chosen to keep their content exclusive.

Guess what? I don’t get to make choices for other people. You don’t, either. I get to make choices for myself. You get to make choices for yourself. Creators get to make their own choices for themselves.

When I build, I use a huge variety of content. What I don’t do when I upload a build for others to use is to include content they must pay for. Why, you ask? Because not everyone can afford to do that. I have a whole host of builds sitting in my files that I haven’t uploaded because the content used is not available for free. Other builders do include content requiring payment and that is their choice.

I download content almost every day and I store it in multiple locations. They all cost me money that I, again, choose to pay. A lot of people ask me to help them find content that is no longer available. My archive allows me to do that. I also know how to use the Wayback Machine to find viable links and do that, as well. Often, I message a creator and ask them if they still have the item and/or if I may give it to someone who has asked me about it. I choose to do this. I like hunting down content because it is fun and sometimes it can be a days’ long challenge.

The Sims is something I indulge my time and money on because I can. There are a lot of things I cannot do. I cannot walk more than 10 feet without needing to stop. I cannot wear high heels. I cannot dance. I can no longer ride roller coasters. I cannot turn my neck more than an inch to either side. I cannot shower or bathe or swim by myself. I cannot ride a horse or climb mountains or play softball or volleyball. Everything I do with my hands is an enormous effort due to permanent nerve damage. I’ve been medically retired as a disabled veteran for the past 16 years and have lived with my physical issues for far longer. So, yes. I choose to indulge myself and I can do so.

I say all of this to you because you wrote me a nasty statement and included spurious, unfounded allegations against people I care about. I have known many of the creators whose content I use for years. I have friends literally all around the world because of this game.

Most of the time, I keep my opinions to myself. This particular issue has been going around for years and this latest has been like wildfire. A bad one where people panic instead of using rational thought. Panic gets people hurt. Try thinking logically. I have read everything I could find on this issue (because time really is something else I have).

Do you really think a creator has time to put together content, open a file and make changes into it (and every swatch) for each item created for every, single person supporting them? Do you know how expensive actual tracking software is? How time consuming? As so many creators have stated, they don’t have time nor the inclination to do all this extra work, which will not prevent links and/or content from being shared or pirated in any case.

As for doxing, tracking, and bad behavior, please show the receipts. Are you aware of how easy it is to fabricate messaging, texts, emails? If someone has been doxed, did they report it to the authorities? That is illegal, not to mention wrong. File tracking? Again, expensive in both time and money. Bad behavior? I see it every day. It saddens me.

I prefer to bring joy to people, not hate.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Nonny. Truly.

Hugs & Love, Suzanne  

[lustbile]

To Provoke

Incubus!HaechanxReader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: dom-ish haechan, semi public (alley way), oral&fingering, biting, blood consumption, & can maybe be interpreted as degrading but not really

notes: a resounding thank you to whoever gave haechan curls and horns im in love with you nct stylist person. I wrote this all today and it made me stupid so I will try to go through and do more editing. Also not that I think anyone would, but I made the edit for this, horns and all, and im asking politely no one repost it, i know it’s not the most extravagant edit but im asking u pls.

Nct Masterlists

Multi group Masterlist

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You were trying to provoke him.

You were always trying to provoke him.

Everything you did, every move, blink, sigh, and turn was an attempt to pull him from the shadows.

To admit you’re addicted to him is embarrassing, degrading even, especially with the way it fills his chest and wild eyes with hunger and pride. His ego was one thing that never needed to grow, big enough to fill every nook and cranny of the universe, but something about the way your pretty eyes would glitter at him in awe pushed it over the edge in free fall.

The outfit you chose to wear was maybe a bit too revealing for the weather, the nipping cold dancing along your shoulders and thighs in a way that makes your stomach clench and your teeth chatter. But it was the same outfit you had worn on the night you had met him, the outfit that his greedy fingers tugged and pulled on to get access to your skin, and it still had the smallest of tears in the seem from his impatience that night.

But it got you attention, and that's what mattered in the end.

He had always had a jealous streak, something he’d deny sharply if you had the nerve to accuse him, but that didn’t change the fact that some of your best nights with him were spent after he showed up to remind you that your body and skin were for him only. And that jealousy was the exact thing you needed to get him to show his face again.

It had been far too long since you had felt him last. You had no clue where he could have possibly ran off to for such a long time, but that didn’t stop the fire that was building in your belly. And no matter how many times you tried, your own wandering hands were never enough to quench your body’s thirst like he could.

The man you spoke to at the club meant less than nothing to you, even when you felt his growing excitement pressing against your back when you agreed to dance with him. The sloppy kisses you allowed him to press against the skin of your neck felt no different than just air as your mind was too distracted by the man that had taken ownership of your heart and soul so long ago, regardless of his absence.

It didn’t feel long before the lights became too bright, the alcohol that sloshed in your cup too bitter for your tongue, and the smell of the strange man too stale and unfamiliar. But when you pushed away from his chest and checked the time on your phone, while you ignored his grumbled complaints of you being a tease, you saw that it was only a handful of minutes past midnight.

You had stayed out much longer than that before, much later in fact and with glee, but something in your chest, a heavy and daunting weight, was pulling you towards the entrance on unsteady feet and a taunting disappointment on your shoulders.

Your mind still felt muggy even after you broke away from the stuffy environment of the building, but you brushed it off as a combination of the minimal alcohol you’d consumed and the angry unsatisfied monster that had made home in your gut.

You had enough of a head on your shoulders to scan your purse for your pepper spray and pocket knife before you decided that maybe the short walk home would help clear your mind and disappointment. It was still cold, your icy fingertips begging for a uber or cab instead, but you were hoping the biting chill would help calm down whatever lustful beast you had become because of a man you couldn't even contact.

Your legs felt too heavy to carry with every step you took, your neck feeling like your necklaces were made from tons of lead instead of whatever cheap metal the random online store you had ordered them from used. You were grateful that the only company you had on the back streets you had chosen to take were the flickering street lamps and the skittering rats you could hear in each alley you passed.

You could almost taste the relief of the cheap bottles of wine you had stashed in your kitchen paired with a trashy netflix horror film when you turned onto your street, your apartment building somehow looking inviting with its old brick and foggy windows as it sat on the corner. The only thing stopping you from kicking off your heels and making a run for it being the memory of one of your less than polite neighbors dropping a large glass vase and not feeling any need to pick up the broken pieces before leaving for the day.

Instead you grit your teeth to help bear the pinching of your shoes, and break into a quick and awkward jog down the desolate stretch of sidewalk. Your eyes watering as you're met with icy air.

Peace and warmth and cheap familiar alcohol is only a few strides away when you hear it. To anyone else in the city it would have been no different than the sounds of an everyday creature scavenging in the trash for food, but you had lived here long enough to know what's a rat or raccoon or, in this case, a cat.

It was a stray you had befriended long ago, one that could climb and duck into your conveniently opened balcony door for a bowl of food and a scratch behind the ears. It was just a sweet little boy that was grey and covered with scratches and scars, but due to a no pet policy had to be kept labeled as a stray and a secret to your landlord.

You huff in frustration, assuming he would have been curled up on your couch when you returned home and not chasing rats in the alley next to your building, but he had always been mischievous from the day you met him. So with the hope that you could block his image from the security cameras, you turn and head into the dim light of the small alley.

You had lovingly dubbed him Oscar when you came home more than once to your trash can tipped over and learned he had a special love for garbage, and that name along with some weird chattering cooing left you mouth as you tried to coax him from whatever trash can he was creating chaos within.

Your teeth were already gritted and you back stiff as the playful feline found enjoyment in jumping out and scaring you in times like this and you assumed this time would be no different as his evilness seemed to only raise as it got deeper and deeper into the night. So you were already mentally prepared for an attack from an overly excited ball of fur, what you weren’t prepared for was a voice.

“What are you doing out so late?” the voice was gruff and slightly accusatory and made you all but jump completely out of your skin. And as you whip around in circles to try to find the face that the words feel from, you see your love and joy Oscar jump from the tallest trash can and scale the fire escape up to scramble back into your home like a guilty teenager that was caught by their mother.

“I asked you a question,” this time the words were followed by strong hands gripping your shoulders and a shrill yelp escaping your throat.

Your hand was pushing into your purse for at least one of your weapons as you squat to get out of the person's hold and turn to see their face, the grinning and prideful boy behind you washes you with a wave of relief before stabbing at you with annoyance.

“Haechan, what the fuck,” you whisper harshly as you pull your hand from your purse and stand up straight, your now free hand now moving to jab a rough finger into the dip of his chest, “how many times? How many times have I told you to not fucking sneak up on me like that. I know the pepper spray can’t hurt you and a stab wound would heal in like five minutes but that doesn’t mean I want to stab you, idiot.”

“Why not?” his head jerks back as if you said something dumb like the sky wasn’t actually blue or he wasn’t really the sexiest man to live, something that just has no logic behind it in the slightest, “like you said it would heal so maybe we could try, might be kinda hot.”

He punctuates his words by grabbing you roughly by the waist, his other hand wrapping gently around your neck before he pushes you against the rough brick behind you, the permanent evil glimmer in his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Do you ever get tired of being an absolute freak?” you thinly veiled insult doesn’t pack as much of a punch as you had maybe hoped, but when he begins to mouth at the skin of your jaw and cheek you can’t really find it within yourself to care.

“Well isn’t that why you like me?” he asks rhetorically as he starts to nip light bruises in the spots that blur your vision, “freaky me must be your favorite, because otherwise you wouldn’t be dressed the way you are.”

He’s no wrong, not even in the slightest, but the confident way in which he says it is enough to make you want to lie, “wanting you and liking you are two different things, no one ever said I liked you.”

“Oh but you want me,” the way in which he takes everything you say in strides without even batting an eye is bit infuriating, but the way his fingers tighten against your neck and push into your jugular is enough to make you melt against him, “that’s what you said so for once that’s not me putting words into your pretty little mouth. But don’t say you don’t like me, that’s a dirty lie and we both know it.”

“You don’t like when I lie?” you pout at him, trying to pull more and more reactions from him, “but some of your favorite things I say are lies, like how big you are and how well you fuc-“

“Alright that’s enough of you,” he interrupts, his fist tightening that much more and his other slipping from your waist to reach under the hem of your dress, a satisfied growl and his tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek being his reaction when he realizes the underwear he was grabbing for wasn’t there, “I’ve had to watch you prance around all night, letting a low down dog of a man touch you. And for what? My attention? Baby, you already have my attention.”

Your words stutter violently, the only sounds coming from your throat are whines and gasps as his fingers slip between your thighs and glide against the dampened skin, never staying on your clit long enough to give you the pleasure you need but enough to make you squirm.

“You were watching me?” you finally gasp out, before it clicks in your brain how dumb of a question it was. He told you a long time ago that he always will keep an eye on you, and knowing what he is and the things he can do, you had no reason to not believe him.

“I always am my pretty baby,” he coos before pressing teasing kisses to your open mouth, seemingly tasting and feeding off of every little noise that slips out, “and it hurts to see you let such a nasty man touch you where only I should. You didn’t even notice him following you out of that trashy club did you, silly thing?”

You jerk back as much as you can with the way he holds you, eyes widening at the news that you were apparently being followed without your knowledge. Every emotion that swims in your brain feels like its fighting for dominance, but with the way he chooses to dip his middle and ring fingers just barely past your entrance you’re struggling to cling to just one.

“God, you are so lucky to have me aren’t you? Who else would take care of creeps and make you feel good hm?” he tilts his head as he speaks, his breath warm against the side of your face before his tongue dips to lick at the shell of your ear, “no one can make you feel the way I do can they?”

“No,” you finally answer after a moment, the word coming out as an airy breath as his fingers finally sink in all the way. He wastes no time before curling them and pressing at the spot that makes your knees buckle, “please Haechan, need you so bad.”

“Oh is that one of those infamous lies of yours you were talking about?” he pulls away slightly, but shows no interest in slowing the motions of his hand, “well it can’t be can it? I can always tell you know? Can hear the way your heart picks up when you lie, much different than the way it does when you’re about to come for me.”

His wrist starts to move faster, the heel of his hand finally pressing and rubbing against your clit as the muscles of his forearm start to strain. The telling signs of your orgasm feel too sudden, too fast, and with his hand still constricting the blood that tries to flow to your head all you can do is let your eyes roll as your breathing comes out as small puffs.

“But since you’ve asked so nicely,” you can only let out a pathetic cry when he pulls his hand away from you suddenly, your lack of oxygen being the only thing stopping you from letting out a scream loud enough for the whole block to hear as he denies you of any stimulation. All you can do is let out incoherent babbling and whines as your hands reach up to dig your nails into the leather jacket protecting his forearms.

He releases your neck, your skin burning from the friction and the sudden amount of oxygen and blood returning to your head making you dizzy. And while your eyes roll as they try to refocus and your heart rate begins to slow to normal, he grabs your wrists and pushes your weakened form to be flush against the wall thats scrapes against your exposed skin.

“You are by far the best thing ive ever tasted,” he mutters, not concerned with whether you heard him or not, before his mouth latches to the side of your neck. He seems to find the most interest in the finger prints he left behind, as he pulls the tender skin between his sharp teeth and works to create a bruise that won’t leave you for another week.

Regardless of denying you a proper release, he considers himself to still be a generous guy. As his tongue lays flat against the burning skin of your neck, he starts to kick at your feet until your clumsy legs are falling apart wide enough for him to press his thigh against your skin, and in the exact way he predicted, you can’t help but to begin grinding helplessly against him.

One of the main reasons the dress that you currently wear is one of his favorites, is the neckline. Low enough to show the expanse of your chest and just enough of your cleavage to make him salivate. He’s as transparent as glass with this love, especially as he mouth travels down between your collarbones and sternum.

You can hear a quiet pop in the fabric of the neckline when he bites down and begins to pull it with him as he sinks down to the floor, the huff you let out being both in frustration from him further ruining a nice dress and your impatience.

The straps dig harshly into the skin of your shoulders before they give and fall, the sudden lack of support making it easier for Haechan to take the fabric and expose your chest to the cold air.

The look in his eyes when you look down is mean and predatory, you fear one day he’ll snap and consume you whole, but for today he settles for wrapping his swollen lips around your nipple and sucking harshly.

Your hips quicken involuntary, broken moans filling the empty alley as you twitch and squirm in his hold. He seems to grow irritated at your impatience as he shoves your wrists back harshly, his knuckles audibly scraping against the brick.

“You can never be patient to save your life,” his head tilts forward and he presses his forehead against your sternum with a huff before he’s leaning back up to press a sloppy kiss against your panting mouth, “you’re lucky I missed you so much or otherwise you’d be in for a lot longer of a night.”

He keeps your wrists trapped in his hold as he moves to kneel on the ground, the rough and dirtied pavement doing nothing to help the tears that already litter his jeans.

You feel your face flush when he lets go of one wrist and uses his newly freed hand to shove the hem of your dress up and around your hips, and the burning beneath your skin only worsens when he leans forward and breathes deeply with his nose pressed against your pubic bone.

He leans back for a moment, his hand wrapping around the bend of your knee to pull your leg to rest on his shoulder and you feel your shoulder sting from the wall cutting into your skin from him moving you like a doll.

“Haechan,” you whisper his name out with a pout that you hope will get you exactly what you want, but you can only huff and petulantly twitch when he begins nipping and licking at the skin on the insides of your thighs.

His teeth are sharper than most, and he usually airs on the side of caution because he’s aware of this. His bites are gentle for the most part, but when you begin to peak in your feelings of impatience, you can’t help the way your hips begin jerking forwards in search of his tongue.

His palm pushing against your hip is his first warning, a generous one in his opinion, but when the warning seems to fly completely over your pretty little head he has no other choice but to lean forward and sink his teeth into delicate skin at the bend of your thigh.

You cry out for a second before you’re tucking your lip between your teeth. It stings terribly, the skin breaking around his teeth burns but you can’t stop the way you revel in the sharp pain. And at the exact same moment you taste the metallic ting of the blood falling from your bitten lip, you feel the same warm thick liquid drip from the wounds he’s created and straight into his grinning mouth.

More blood falls freely when he pulls his teeth from your flesh, his warm tongue flattening against the injury immediately to catch as much of the liquid as possible.

He laps at it for a moment, savoring as much of the taste of your life source as possible, before he starts at the bottom of the bite mark and drags slowly up.

Once his tongue moves off the wound, he continues across your skin. The moment he hits your labia, you let out a gasp and jerk against him again, your mind completely erasing the fact that the bite was meant to be a punishment for that exact thing.

He seems to have forgotten him wanting you to remain still, as he doesn’t hesitate in the slightest until his licking across your stil swollen bundle of nerves.

He moans as the flavor of your arousal mixes with the still lingering taste of your blood, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine and making you shiver.

He tilts his head up to smile at you, his eyes shining as he grabs your hands and moving them to thread into his curled hair.

“Why are you shivering?” he asks with a faux concern, his right hand smoothing over your thigh before pushing between your legs to return his fingers to their spot inside of you, immediately pumping and curling them slowly, “are you cold or something? Maybe it’s because you’re in such a skimpy little dress?”

You groan out in annoyance at his playful act, your eyes rolling back but for once not in pleasure. It’s not until he starts to proudly giggle to himself do you exploit the hold you have on the back of his head to push him back to your body.

You fear that being shoved around may be the exact thing Haechan would have wanted, when he happily moans before latching his lips to your clit again, but the pleasure that melts your muscles erases any need to call him out on his deviousness and perverted enjoyment.

He seems happy with your moving hips when they start to move against his waiting face. Your fingers mindlessly and desperately tug at his scalp as your head tilts back and thumps against the wall.

The hand that isn’t pressed deeply inside you slides across your hip, his callused fingers making goosebumps run up your arms as they push into your lower belly.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his fingers as the curl and push apart, your thighs tensing around his bobbing head as he licks and bites gently at your clit. It feels like it’s harder to catch your breath and you know you’re only moments from orgasm.

“Please, please,” you start to stutter the word over and over, praying both that he lets you come and that you’re neighbors are deep enough in sleep to not hear the noises you know will escape you.

You almost cry in relief when you feel his shoulders shift, his face and fingers both pressing deeper from the movement in a way that tells you he has no intention on letting up on your shivering body.

His blunt nails start to scratch into your skin and you can feel his heavy panting breath against your skin every time he begins to lap at you desperately. You can feel your muscles lose even more strength, and your head becoming heavier and dazed as he coaxed you closer and closer to your finish.

Your shoulders twitch up towards your ears and you feel your stomach clench as your back curves, small whines and whimpers leave you as the heel of your foot thumps against the space between his shoulder blades.

You gasp out when you feel it, them. They start as small bumps beneath your palms, and you feel your chest tighten when it clicks what they are.

He’s always had a good hold on controlling them, keeping them hidden so he can wreak havoc without being clocked as something inhuman. They had peaked out a few times, usually in moments like this, but it’s such a rarity that you can’t stop the way your heart begins to thump in your chest.

Out of everything about him, you were obsessed with all of him, but you loved his horns the most. They were small and sharp at the side of his head and the way he looks when they’re poking out amongst his curled hair, and especially when he was grumpy or mad, made you want to jump on him and kiss him all over.

You were so caught up and distracted by them growing to full size directly under your hands you forgot how sharp they were at their tapered ends. The reminder you get is when they sharply down push into your palms like thorns.

You gasp sharply, but the way they curl makes you afraid to pull away. It makes you tremble and flush with embarrassment, but the pain bleeding into your hands is the last straw on your nerves. All you can do is wrap your now bleeding hands around the horns and cry out into the cold air as your erratic hips move across his face.

He groans deeply against you as your nails scrape at the skin that surrounds the base of his horns, the feeling of his and his still moving tongue pushes you through and past your gasping orgasm.

You sign in relief when he finally detaches from your body, his mouth moving up to press your hip and across the space of your stomach the dress reveals. He puts your leg down slowly and he creeps back up your torso, now hyper aware of your wounded hands still stuck on his horns.

“Sorry my love, they’re kinda sharp aren’t they?” he rhetorically asks with a soft but guilty grin. He stays ducked down enough that your hands don’t go too high that they start to slip, and he follows with his own to help you detach them.

“I just keep making my mark on you tonight huh?” he sighs as he stands at full height and brings your still bleeding hands to his face. You grit your teeth and scrunch your nose when he gives you a knowing look that says ‘we both know what I have to do.’

He is quick and gentle when he swipes his tongue across the deep cuts in your hands, not wanting it to sting more than necessary.

A teasing grin fills his face when he looks up to see the tired pout on your face, “just like the one on your leg, there won’t be anything left than a bruise if you just wait like an hour,” he’s sincere in his words, and you know it works, but you still feel all wounded and tired.

“Take me home,” you demand, wrapping your slowly healing hands around his shoulders and leaning until your head rests against his shoulder.

“Hey now,” he contradicts his tone by wrapping his arm around your waist and helping guide you walk to your apartment, “you still have to feed Oscar, and take a shower, and I’m not even full yet so you have to let me play with you until I wear you out.”

His tone is far too genuine and loving for the words he says, and you swat weakly at his chest in annoyance, but all he does in response is a laugh.

[peach-astrology]

Mars in the houses

Mars in the first house:

1)A very strong and brave person.He can be quick-tempered,but due to his perseverance and strong character,he wins competitions and is a good opponent.

2)Depending on the position of Mars in the sign and its aspects,but in any case,a person(karmically)must work hard in life- both in the external world and in the internal,and especially devote a lot of effort to the formation of his personality.

3)People often fall in love with you.You are very inspiring to other people,please don't give up,you are really cool.

4)I noticed that people in this position have unusual facial features.For example,they have thick or unruly hair, freckles,or a sly and strong look.Most often they are high.

5)They value honesty and realism.They don't like to think much about philosophical things.

Mars in the second house:

1)Hardworking and very fond of money.They like to build a successful and long-term career.

2)This arrangement indicates people who are talkative,it is useless to argue with them.They are skilled in mathematics,earn money through real estate,are interested in politics and say frankly what they think.They sing or have the ability to work on the radio.

3)Bad aspects can indicate frequent financial and property crises.A person spends as quickly as he earns.He needs to learn to control his spending.

4)If a person has Mars in Capricorn/Scorpio/Aries,then he is guaranteed monetary success.He is enterprising,active,sees a large number of opportunities around him and uses them one hundred percent.

5)The good aspects point to the comfortable and favorite work of humans.It works not only for money,but also for pleasure.He is proud of himself and his position.

Mars in the third house:

1)Person is impatient.The last thing he likes to do is wait a long time for a response to his messages.Such a person can show pressure in business situations,and often achieves what he wants through courage and a natural gift of persuasion.

2)By the way,often Mars in the 3rd house has a great interest in technology,and therefore can fix a lot himself in the mechanism of a car,motorcycle or bicycle.

3)Good aspects indicate a strong and inquisitive mind,bad aspects indicate poor memory and learning problems.

4)You are witty and completely outspoken,and sometimes tactless.Active intellectual work is suitable for you.

5)If you have a brother or sister,they may have Scorpio/Aries placements.They can also be hot-tempered,get involved in boxing or make a permanent mess at home.

Mars in the fourth house:

1)He knows how to cool his ardor at the right time.They often want to be in charge of the family.They like to do the renovation and decoration of their home.

2)In 99% of cases,they have problems with their parents or family.Their characters are too different.

3)You may have been brought up in harsh or unpleasant conditions,so you have little trust in people and comfort is very important to you.You don't want to repeat the mistakes of your parents,so you can seriously get carried away with books about parenting and going to psychologists.There's nothing wrong with that!

4)With bad aspects,mental disorders and deep mental suffering are possible.Good aspects increase strength and energy,activity and enterprise and create an opportunity to acquire real estate and implement ideas,plans and goals.

5)I often noticed this position in people who worked hard and studied hard to support their families.They are very caring and loving,but they may not show it because of stress or fatigue.

Mars in the fifth house:

1)You love competitions,arguments and adventures.If you are the captain of the team,then you will definitely win.You are able to maintain team spirit and you are comfortable working in a friendly team.

2)The 5th house sometimes points to our children,so I just wish you patience.Your child may be too active or disobedient,try to teach from childhood to love to learn,otherwise there may be problems in the future.It can also be a Sun Aries or Scorpio.

3)In general,you are not boring.Positive aspects indicate that you are the soul of the company or you are often approached to get acquainted.Bad aspects indicate risky and dangerous actions.Think a thousand times before you do something.

4)I'm sorry to frighten you,but my book says that giving birth to such people is very difficult.Carefully monitor your health.

5)You are a sensual and passionate nature.You flirt well,which makes you even more attractive.

Mars in the sixth house:

1)Perfectionists,so they can be trusted with difficult and responsible work.They may be too lazy or too hardworking.They love to thoroughly understand complex mechanisms and processes,they like to process and analyze information,put everything on the shelves,optimize their activities.

2)Their main goal is not money and career growth.It is more important for them to get satisfaction from achievements and results in order to feel happy.

3)This is a born analyst who logically approaches the solution of problems and tasks.Relies on the brain,not the heart,to make decisions.He is a practitioner all the knowledge that he receives in the process of life,immediately applies.

4)He will try to create the most comfortable living conditions for his family.It is important for him to feel stability and be confident in the future.

5)With bad aspects,such people tend to be picky and grumpy.

Mars in the seventh house:

1)An unpleasant position,there is a possibility of a toxic or aggressive partner.Their partner can be a little brash,rude,or rebellious.On the other hand,it often indicates a partner with a lot of energy and plans.He is stubborn and always achieves his goals.

2)His opponents are strong and assertive,and fights with them often end in serious injuries physical or financial.He often gets into trouble and easily gets involved in quarrels.

3)The bad aspects point to divorce.

4)He was used to acting quickly and confidently towards others.Sometimes he shows excessive pressure and strong-willed influence,which is perceived negatively by others.With soft and sensitive people,such a person is not on the way.

5)You are a great competitor,so you can work in politics,sports or business.

Mars in the eighth house:

1)You are very sensitive to the topic of money and probably want to have more of it than you have now.You reach out to people who already have money or obviously want wealth.

2)For bad aspects,I sincerely recommend not taking out loans or spending property or huge amounts of money.There is a high probability of not paying back the debt and spending money on the wind.Read the contracts carefully.

3)Good aspects create a sense of benefit.Such a person knows who to make deals with,he has a profitable and active job.

4)Monitor the health of the genitals.Avoid fire and cutting objects and treat wounds carefully.

5)They like to explore theories and riddles.They are very curious and they like mysticism,they can like detectives.

Mars in the ninth house:

1)You may have been disliked by your teachers because you tend to express your opinions.You are the kings of discussion and know how to defend your point of view.

2)Such people love to learn.They have a broad outlook,but their brain doesn’t immediately understand the explanation,so they often learn in their own way.Sometimes this position indicates self-taught people.

3)Negative aspects indicate short temper and stubbornness.Such people argue for the sake of argument.Positive aspects indicate fairness.Such a person is interested in the opinions of other people and tries to expand their knowledge.

4)Often such people work according to their own regime.They can be freelancers or have a night job.

5)Very good position for businessmen.A person with such a position has good managerial abilities,purposefulness and great vital energy.

Mars in the tenth house:

1)He is very independent and responsible,knows how to make decisions and is not afraid to take the initiative.

2)He can quickly become successful,and then also quickly find himself at the bottom.His life is an endless series of ups and downs.

3)In the negative aspect,Mars makes a person conflicted,aggressive.In a positive aspect,it indicates success.His career is very important to him.But family and personal relationships often take a back seat.

4)Such a person may have a problematic relationship with his mother.

5)They know how to work in competition.In life(with bad aspects),almost all people are seen as enemies.Maybe there was some kind of psychological trauma.

Mars in the eleventh house:

1)You work well in collaboration with others who share your goals,ideals,and intentions.You can inspire people to work towards a common goal.

2)If he is passionate about something,he strives to bring it to the end and get a concrete result.

3)He's friends with all sorts of people.Nationality,level of education and status in society are not important here.The main thing is to have common hobbies,aspirations and desires.

4)Positive aspects indicate the qualities of an excellent organizer.It inspires and appeals to other people.Negative aspects create problems with people.He is often betrayed or deceived.

5)Such a person never adapts to someone.If you have different views on life or different characters,that such people will say goodbye to you.They don't fucking need to change you.

Mars in the twelfth house:

1)Watch your feet very carefully.Wear comfortable shoes,play football carefully and don’t overdo it with the stretch.

2)He doesn’t give the impression of an active and active person.Others often underestimate him.

3)He has a good imagination.He does a lot of his work intuitively.Such a person can’t always explain in words how he came to this result.

4)Very good position for astrologers,fortune tellers or psychics.Their work is often associated with something mystical or creative.They like detective stories and psychology.

5)You may have quite a lot of energy and energy,you lack confidence or just the desire to put yourself and your interests first.Love being alone at work.You like to help.

[logically-asexual]

I can tell I've rotted in your brain

summary:

another take on Logan becoming a Dark Side because Thomas just doesn't want him anymore. this one narrates the process through which is Logan is slowly pushed away until he has to leave. Janus and Remus are nice to him throughout (with tiny subtle hints of Loceit).

warnings: Logan becomes the Orange Side, so this involves lots of anger and arguments and insults between all the characters, but no one is intentionally written as unsympathetic.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

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words: 1383

Thomas had more than one mental crisis after changing his career, but always concluded that it had been the best decision he could have made, improving his general emotional state and his self esteem, so Logan supported it. Still, it was exhausting to be the designated solver of all the most difficult situations, even more so when Thomas and the other two Sides refused to recognize him as such.

There were a few occasions on which Logan returned to Thomas’ subconscious, seeking refuge from the chaos of emotions that ruled Thomas’ mind: During particularly heated discussions after Vine was permanently disabled, when Logan couldn’t understand their reluctance to move forward. The couple times in which Thomas tried to approach a new potential romantic partner. When Thomas’ most eccentric friends came over. For the most part, they were inconsequential situations in which Logic wouldn’t be needed for more than providing the basic reasoning Thomas needed to operate.

One remarcable occasion was when he arrived in the Dark Sides’ common room in an attempt to escape an argument between Patton and Roman, only to find himself in the middle of another, more heated altercation.

“I have to confront him! He doesn’t understand!” Anxiety yelled.

“You don’t understand! What do you think will happen when one of the so-kindly-named “Dark Sides” shows up to Thomas unannounced, huh? They’ll love it, I'm sure. Throw you a party, even.” Deceit replied, throwing his gloved hands in the air. “Come on, V, wake up! It won’t work for anything. If you show up there you’ll only make things worse!”

“Things ARE worse! Because I’m not there to warn him before he does stupid shit! I need to be there!”

They didn���t even notice Logic was now watching them from his spot beside the stairs.

“Fine!” said Deceit. “But don’t come crying back here when they prove me right.”

Anxiety turned around to walk away from the Dark Sides’ leader, but stopped as soon as he found Logic staring at them. With renewed fury, he stomped towards him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” He pointed at Logan. “I still don’t understand why you keep coming to this dumpster… and to complain of not being listened to! If you really wanted to be heard you’d be out there speaking up.”

Logan just stood there, frozen.

“At least you got the chance,” Anxiety added quietly, before leaving, not without shoving Logan out of his way.

After he left, Logan didn’t know what to do, so he stayed where he was. The air felt figuratively tense, until Deceit dropped down on the couch with a sigh and patted the spot next to him, motioning for Logan to sit there, which he did.

“That must have been fun to watch, huh?“ Deceit said, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“Actually—“

“I know. Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s alright. I did come without previous notice.”

They sat there in silence for a minute, before Logan spoke up again.

“I uh— I don’t think Anxiety was angry at you particularly.”

Deceit raised his eyebrow, apparently intrigued.

“Thomas is… well, everyone in the mind is feeling alike, due to Thomas feeling somewhat stressed himself.” Logan looked down at his own hands, waiting for Deceit to dismiss him. When that didn’t happen, he explained further. “I came here avoiding the other two, who are in a similar predicament. I might be the one to blame for it, so I should be the one apologizing to you.”

Deceit sat up slightly at that. “What happened?”

Logan swallowed. “Thomas was going to meet a friend earlier. They agreed on a time and place but the friend never showed up. Thomas was ready to “let it slide” but I… I mentioned that we could have spent that time doing something productive, instead of waiting.” He started fidgeting with his fingers. “Surprisingly, Roman agreed with me and began to list unfinished projects and ideas they could have been working on. Thomas felt angry with his friend for making him waste time, which prompted Patton to intervene in their defense. In a matter of minutes they were all yelling at each other and… now here we are.”

Deceit nodded in understanding, while Logan refused to look at him, ashamed for the trouble he triggered.

“You’re angry, too, aren’t you?”

Logan bit his lip. “I don’t feel anything.”

“No, of course.” Deceit chuckled.

After a moment, Logan remembered how secure the Dark Side really was, with no one to hear his words and get hurt by them. He found Deceit’s presence comforting, as well, like he could tell Deceit anything, knowing that any secret would be well kept.

“I… guess I am frustrated… by the fact that a short comment like mine can have such a great impact… on all of us.” Logan met Deceit’s eyes. Somehow, his expression seemed to tell Logan that he didn’t blame him for Anxiety’s earlier outburst. “They do listen to me but— just— just never the right thing.”

“I know.” He heard Deceit say, and felt a hand come to rub his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, shakier than he expected, and relaxed into the sensation.

That day turned out to be the first of many times Anxiety would show himself to Thomas, in desperate attempts to be heard. It was tough at first, and it took a while for him and Logan to get along, but it seemed to be working for Thomas, especially after he accepted anxiety as a necessary part of himself. Logan didn’t need to leave one of their conversations until after Virgil had shared his name with them, when they were in Patton’s room.

Virgil had seen Logan show up in Thomas’ subconscious mind palace several times, but that had been the first time he had been on the other side of the situation. It was understandable that he was frightened by Logic leaving, more so than the other two sides, who were used to it, though he was able to comprehend it later.

Anxiety becoming a big part of Thomas’ decision making possibly worked in Logan’s favor, since now the sides of the discussion often appeared more balanced between the outgoing Sides and the reserved ones. However, this compromise couldn’t last forever, and eventually the scale seemed to be tilted against Logic’s role once more, now with three overly-emotional Sides against one.

The Duke and Deceit exasperated Logan to no end, truthfully, but he couldn’t stay away. At least with them there were no expectations, there was no pressure to prove that he was worth paying attention to. It was quite the opposite, actually, they both influenced him into following their ideas, instead of relying on him to make the difficult decisions. Their ideas of entertainment were sure… interesting… but Logan’s reasons to stay consisted more of the pleasant company than the activities they partook in.

After long afternoons of experimenting with Remus’ most unexpected hypotheses, or reviewing the logistics of hypothetical criminal plans they would never commit, Deceit would always join him in the common room, where they could read, share their opinions on different topics, ranging from tea types to philosophical theories, play games of strategy, or simply accompany each other in silence. It was always hard when Logan had to eventually leave.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Deceit asked him one time.

Logan had to think a moment before answering. “Because I can’t.” They both knew it was the truth. “They need me, and… I do appreciate it there sometimes.” He shrugged with a laugh, which Deceit mirrored. “There are times… Sometimes, when we reach a satisfying conclusion to a conversation I contributed to, when we come out of it with a solid plan. Those occasions when not only was I able to teach them something,” Deceit watched as Logan’s face illuminated, “but I also learned something new myself.”

“You don’t get much of that any longer, though, do you?”

“I don’t. But I’m Logic. Working is what must drive me,” he looked at Deceit’s eyes briefly, turning away immediately when he felt his face heat up, “not feelings.”

“Maybe they should,” Deceit whispered.

If Logan heard, he showed no sign of it, and stayed silent until it was time to return to his room.

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