#or I've just mentally cracked

[syn4k]

to be, or not to be (romanticization of the inevitable)

[caimitos]

saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad

[numbknee]

“and apologize to him rn” And will Cartman apologize for calling Kyle slurs or no?

Yes, he should. Further explanation under the cut because Cartman's bigotry is a complex issue. (Keep in mind an explanation for his behavior is not an excuse. Of course I don't fucking condone calling people slurs.)

Cartman definitely has a lot more to apologize for than Kyle given his extensive horrible track record in canon, but Kyle isn't exactly a perfect ray of sunshine in canon either. He's hurt Cartman too, especially in the early seasons.

Before Cartman became the evil, maniacal child we know him as today after "Scott Tenorman Must Die", Kyle fat-shamed him constantly and beat the shit out of him for often trivial reasons (like accidentally spending all their money at the fair) because in Kyle's eyes, Cartman was the fat loser of the friend group and deserved it. Of course over later seasons as Cartman got smarter and more manipulative, he retaliated to the extreme and took things far beyond any reasonable kind of revenge against Kyle.

In the fan comic I left those tags in tho, they both have a lot of things to apologize for in that scenario. Kyle is publicly dismissing their romantic relationship for completely selfish reasons, which for Cartman is so hurtful and invalidating given the intensity of his feelings towards Kyle that he retaliates with his knee-jerk response of antisemitic insults. Of course he shouldn't fucking do that, but he's lashing out with a tried-and-true method for him that he knows will hurt Kyle back. He's using his bigotry like a crutch to protect his ego.

So yes, like I said before Kyle needs to apologize to Cartman for lying to people about their relationship, and Cartman needs to apologize for calling him slurs. Kyle and Cartman's relationship is not as black-and-white as a lot of people think it is, even in canon. They both can be in the wrong for different reasons.

[imwritesometimes]

new wip notebook, who dis?

[jadegr8]

diversity win! ubuyashiki's wife serves as his screen reader!

[clowngremlin]

it's kind of like amazing what being properly medicated and like leaving ur house and doing things with other people and like being a part of ur community can do for ur mental health.....

[rejoiceandcomplain]

it sucks like. really needing help but knowing there's like no way to get it rn and no one can really do anything about it so telling anyone just feels like worrying people for no reason :/

[nagalias-mindscape]

I’m writing a fanfic. It’s SCP based, and Iceberg basically contains the inevitable heat-death of the Universe inside of him due to his anomaly. He does learn how to use said anomaly to be non-destructive, and I was dared to write a one-shot (crack) meeting between Iceberg and the Scarlet King, and I need to paint a (text) picture down at the end. Please bear with me as I explain some (a lot) background before then. This is a bit long, so sorry. This is entirely based on my fanfic, so there will be (many) instances that may not fit with what’s on the Wiki (go figure).

Now, Icy has Plot Armor by virtue of being the Main Character and I haven't killed him off yet. It’s also explained, by this point in the main story that this off-shoot crack piece takes place in, that Iceberg’s anomaly lets him ‘drain’ energy from all sources of power, and all life / death is a form of energy (the sun and the earth's core are... things he pointedly Does-Not-Think-About). The Scarlet King in this story is also not a mindless, vengeful creature hell-bent of the destruction and breaking of the Multiverse. 

The Scarlet King in this story is a tired Eldritch God whose very nature of being is that of apathy and entropy. He was the First-Before-Creation and all that jazz, and his worshippers don’t dispute this.

However, he is apathy and entropy. Thus, he is controlled by his followers, who gave him his powers all those eons ago. His followers tried to make sense of how their God could have children, and believing that their God was eventually going to destroy the world (he just desires to go back to a simpler time, when Humanity didn’t have control over him), they chose the most horrible thing they could as both a power move to the People-Following-Other-Gods and as a warning to Future Generations to Not-Anger-Our-God. So instead of asexual reproduction and simply willing a creature into creation, the Scarlet King now has a singular wife who was the exact opposite of him in terms of most everything.

Then over the years as things changed, because they believed that this Scarlet King was Evil Incarnate, they made him break his wife’s spirit and then impregnate the now seven broken spirits of his once-wife. So instead of one child and one bride, he now has seven children and seven wives. 

(The God-Wives don’t hate him for this, though. They’re also an Eldritch being, and Humanity’s Faith has always held a weird sway over them. Especially for one like the Scarlet King whose powers and abilities are influenced by how others perceive him.)

Please bear with me, I’m getting to the meeting between Iceberg and the Scarlet King and the image I want to impart upon people. It just takes a bit of set up to understand why the Scarlet King doesn’t kill Iceberg on-the-spot and why such a meeting would even take place despite the Foundations efforts.

So. Seven wives, seven kids. Except, humanity then begins to gain an almost fanatic, fever-like worship of the Scarlet King and all that they made him to be and all that they will one day make him. Which makes everything take a turn for the worst when they decide that effigies are the best way to ‘become’ the Scarlet King or one of his wives. The best way to worship him and all that he is and all that he will be.

So, a ritual was made. The most recent example of this ritual being used, at the time of the fanfic I’m writing, would be 4231. Which makes Dr. Clef one of the Scarlet Kings wives and Meridiana (SCP-166) one of the Scarlet King’s children. By proxy, because that's what the ritual was for. And it works, because Humanity is something even True Gods fear to be remembered by.

I’m getting to the point of all this, I promise.

Iceberg and Dr. Clef get along in this story. It takes a bit of time to get there, and it’s still a mostly professional relationship, but Meri and Iceberg are basically like siblings due to main-story based events.

SCP-999 is also fond of Iceberg, and doesn’t mind Iceberg’s anomalous cold if he’s allowed to approach at his own pace and bribed with sweets. SCP-682 allows Iceberg’s presence on the condition that Iceberg provides a heavy blanket layer of snow to help nullify the pain he’s in simply by existing in a plane of reality he shouldn’t technically be in.

For reasons explained in the actual story, the Scarlet King also has ‘children’ in the form of SCPs 408 and 3999. 3999 and 408 mostly like Iceberg thanks to Darven (who is both a 'child' and 'grandchild' of the Scarlet King by proxy for weird reasons relating entirely to 408), but it doesn’t change the fact that they do think somewhat fondly of him. In the case of 3999, they’re still connected to James Talloran, who survived the encounter but is permanently connected to 3999 and thus is a child of the Scarlet King only on a technicality, which doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. 3999 doesn’t actually give a shit about Iceberg, but can’t do anything about it since Iceberg’s snow nullifies its reality-bending powers to a pretty heavy degree. That Iceberg has no desire to ‘take away’ James Talloran also helps the ‘inaction’ part.

Okay, background done. On to what I actually wanted to share.

The Scarlet King ‘brings’ Iceberg to him, because he’s curious about who has managed to enrapture so many of these effigy-folk of his wives and children. Because that can be dangerous, and the Scarlet King likes to keep an eye on those that can control him. He's tired of that, after all. Iceberg doesn’t really give a shit because this is all outside his pay grade and give-a-damn but since the Scarlet King isn’t trying to attack or kill him, he’s willing to talk. Which is all the Scarlet King wants. To Talk.

So, they talk. There’s some (idle) threats made and some non-sequiturs as the Scarlet King tries to figure out which reality he just abducted this Special-Weird person from who is almost on the path to become a literal ‘God’ of the ‘Universal Heat Death’ or something similar, it can't really tell at this stage of mock ascension. Iceberg demonstrates his powers and causes the Scarlet King’s personal realm to become cloaked in a layer of snow, although the Scarlet King still has his powers despite the ‘power drain’ of Iceberg’s Devouring-Abyssal Ice and Sheer Cold. The two settle down for tea, because the Scarlet King isn’t actually a being just trying to destroy the world. He’s just a tired entity who wants people to stop making him out to be this horrible thing that’s Absolute Evil Incarnate, and Iceberg isn’t one of his worshippers. Iceberg’s perception of the Scarlet King doesn’t influence him beyond his own powers, and Iceberg’s snow is dampening the ever-present maddening-whisper of his actual worshippers.

This is the closest the Scarlet King has come to 'being free' of being commanded by Humanity since they first noticed him, and he's enjoying it.

It’s this tea scene that I need people to be aware of.

The Scarlet King, by virtue of being an Eldritch Being, is not bound by human proportions. Although vaguely human-shaped and proportioned by Iceberg’s perception of others- and the Scarlet King not wanting to break Iceberg by virtue of existing in the same plane of reality as an Eldritch Abomination- he’s still massive. Imagine standing next to the Burj Khalifa. That’s Iceberg and the Scarlet King.

And they’re having tea like nothing is wrong with this.

The tea set is sized correctly for humans such as Iceberg.

Please try to imagine what a tea cup sized for humans would look like in the hands of a person as tall as the world’s tallest building and sized appropriately everywhere else. 

I can’t continue writing about the tea scene because of it. Neither Iceberg or the Scarlet King are bringing up the ant-sized tea cup on the Scarlet King’s fingers, but fuck. I’m laughing too much because.

Because the Scarlet King can just make the tea cup in his hands the right size for himself, but he’s not.

I can’t stop laughing. Help me, void!

[airenyah]

oh i- i just had a horrible thought...

what if waikorn gets canonized in bbs our skyy

[teethrotter]

constantly can't do shit because i am unmedicated + overwhelmed to the point of severe executive dysfunction

[beachboysnatural]

one in the morning i am listening to slipping through my fingers on repeat and missing my mom really badly while also feeling upset with her and i don't think this combination will ever really leave me

[stereotypical-jew]

i have had such bad tummy issues these past few days. and also head aches. i feel like i'm gonna shit my pants but i just went to the bathroom! i feel like my brain is broken and also my body and i don't know how i'm supposed to go back to work on monday and make it through eight more weeks of school. four weeks until the concert! i am burned out! this break did not reenergize me!

[gentlethorns]

i hate being mentally ill and i especially hate that it's triggered by stress. it's like once things start dogpiling on me my own brain jumps in to join the fun and i'm like ??? stop???

[juuheizou]

thinking about mutsuki tipsy in the kitchen on halloween night trying to make cupcakes in a sexy costume that activates something *deep* within his soul

[retiredcultistredux]

Kirby, making deals with the death cultists is bad. Especially if you know that death cult bent on destroying the world can, in fact, destroy the world.

Probably back out of the deal while you still can.

Kirby: "...Everything's gonna be fine, poyo. Deals are like promises in a way, poyo...so...he promised. ...And I've got...nothing else to believe in, poyo. I know there's no point in arguing with him...so try not to make this worse...oh, and...we need to stop talking, poyo. I don't want to make him...suspicious...or anything."

A moment passed, and...

Ester: "...Alright, portal's done, c'mon. Oh, and what were you mumbling about?"

Kirby: "...Nothing, poyo...let's just go..."

[alastorss]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

~

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