#this probably has a lot of typos

[ladylunora]

i turned my “imagine if instead of benrey being the only character on the science team to not be a scientist was the other way around with him being the only scientist in a group full of guards” shitpost doodle into an actual au… i call it “HLVRAI job swap au”

also i won’t go over every scenario on this au (you can ask me if you want tho) (also aside from these characters everyone else stays the same, jefferem and josh were scientists tho aaaaand gman does swap jobs too but i won’t reveal anything yet you’re gonna have to wait for me to make more doodles of this au) because its still pretty much the same as hlvrai but they swap jobs but if you wanna know how the res cas happens i wrote it bellow

gordon’s a regular security guard doing his job guarding the test chamber, and this scientist benrey is the one who’s gonna do the test experiment in the test chamber… he shows up without the hev suit to do it though just his lab coat, and gordon follows him insisting that he has to put on the hev suit, and benrey just tells him he’ll be fine because that he is not human and he definitely knows what he’s doing and “dude you don’t even have a passport and you’re wearing an orange shirt you’re the one suspicious”, gordon tries to tell him he spilled coffee that morning on his blue shirt and “wait passport?? WHY IS THAT IMPORTANT WE DON’T EVEN NEED OUR PASSPORTS- DOCTOR BENREY YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE WITHOUT THE SUIT” when they get there gordon calls reinforcements (bubby, coomer and tommy) to help him with this fucking guy but they assume benrey knows what he’s doing, anyways gordon and benrey get into an argument while benrey is trying to do the experiment, they both end up pushing the cart too fast fucking the whole thing up and the resonance cascade happens

[canisalbus]

About the accents: if someone has a very "proper" Italian they are either foreigners or politicians/dignitaries/etc. So that fits perfectly for Machete, but I think it would be so funny if he sometimes slipped up and used a Nepalese word bc he forgot one in "proper" Italian lol

(Funny to me cause Naples has its own language in addition to accent, and most people don't actually know those words)

.

[thefruitonyourfly]

Just read a comment under a magireco Madoka's magical girl sequence that said "now Madoka is a badass" and I was like HUH

Like did some of you watched episode 12 blindfolded and with ear plugs? Because I don't think you guys truly grasp the scope of what Madoka did that episode: The Incubator has been on earth for a MILLENNIUM, meaning that has been thousand of girls before Madoka who have tried to outsmart his system and met a terrible fate for their attempts, but only Madoka has been able to beat him, do you guys understand that? The smartest and strongest girls have tried, but something always thwarted their plans—be it their potential not being that high or Kyuubey twisting their words so it would be in his favor instead—But Madoka had something they didn't and it was her circumstances (Homura and the timeloops), Madoka knew her wish would come at a great sacrifice, but just like Homura said in Rebellion "She rose to the occasion" because she knew it was something only she could do; No one would ever have the perfect circumstances to make that wish like Madoka. So, she did it.

When Madoka made her wish and Kyuubey hesitated for the first time in the series because he understood the implication of it, Madoka said to him: "Now, grant my wish, Incubator." When Kriemhild Gretchen was born and Kyuubey thought he had the advantage back again because this witch could literally swallow a planet and Madoka killed her with one shot. Madoka won, essentially. Like her system isn't perfect, Kyuubey isn't dead, and there's still suffering, but it was the best wish for the magical girl kind as a whole, and all improvements are only possible by what Madoka did here. She played within the Incubator's system and rewrote it. She is the most powerful character in the whole franchise and arguably one of the most powerful characters in anime. "But didn't Homucifer defeated Madokami?" Well, sort of. Homura's win is, ironically, also due to extreme circumstances, only Homura could've done that and only within this one scenario: and even when she won it's heavily implied that if Madoka even has a slightly moment of deja vu it's over for her, she can't win against Madoka on fair terms so even Homura herself can't achieve that feat again. That's just how powerful Madoka is.

Do you guys understand that?

And here's the thing: my problem with that statement isn't even that I don't think magireco Madoka isn't as cool as Madokami, I think she's badass too. Is just like, I thought we all thought Madoka was cool as herself?? Like even without being a magical girl or a fucking godess, Madoka was cool as shit. When Madoka risked her own life to save the lives of her friends and strangers at the warehouse? She had no powers, no backup, and had just watched Mami die to a witch and yet she still followed Hitomi. But people only want to see Madoka's character as what the witch showed her afterwards, her own survivors guilt and perceived weakness and cowardice over wanting to live and not be a magical girl despite what she promised Mami, and yet the scene prior to this conflicts with this idea. Madoka not only can risk her life for others and save them when the need arises, but she already has. Even without being a magical girl. It's just who she is. This, to me, is one Madoka Magica's core strenght as a show that Madoka spent the majority of it being the most "powerless" in almost every scenario and yet she still tried her best to overcome things, even when it didn't work It was never worthless, if anything it proved her own strenght of character and without it she would've never gotten as powerful how she is today.

If Madoka hadn't been kind to Homura on her first day of school, if she hadn't done the simple act of reaching out to someone she thought was kind shy, none of this would've have happened. Her kindness did this, not any other power.

My favorite thing about Madoka's character arc is that Madoka starts as a very naive opmitimisc girl and with a somewhat sheltered view of of the world, then she goes throught horrors few can understand and while she could (understably) become bitter with the world and grow to despise it, Madoka comes of it realizing...she was right. Madoka has felt the pain the world could give her in her own skin, has literally died, and she now thinks Hope is needed more than ever. And it saddens me a lot when people don't understand how strong and cool she is because of that, to be hurt and choose to be kinder and more understanding to yourself and the world in return, because the world can be better we just can't give up...

Basically what I'm saying with this that if you don't like Kaname Madoka, fuck you—

[possamble]

do you have any particular thoughts regarding marcille being a half-elf? its interesting to me considering the fact that she seems self-conscious about being a half-elf, but denies it when its brought up

i remember marcille looking visibly uncomfortable over laios simply asking her how old she is, which i think the only reason she might feel nervous about this is because it might reveal her as a half-elf to him.

she's never corrected anybody whose called her an elf either.

never mind the circumstances of the reveal, in which thistle goes on about how half-elves are inferior and accusing her of wanting to become full blooded elf, she seemed particularly upset like he struck a nerve-

i wish the half-elf thing was built upon more. also, underrated marcille line:

okay so i revisited this sequence just to make sure I could back myself up and it's just... man. there's a lot going on.

the first reaction we get from Marcille is this huge panel that takes up half of the page

she is viscerally affected. flushing to the tips of her ears with the intensity of it. and we see it again, a few pages later

so it might seem like she's embarrassed about it and lying to herself, but... I really think it's just that Thistle is accidentally hitting sore spots. If you really look at what he says to get these reactions

"you'll live out your entire life [...] and die that way too"

"a hundred years from now, nobody will be there"

Hear me out. I think, if he stuck to harping on about her inferiority without bringing up how terrifyingly long-lived she is, she wouldn't have been as bothered. But right now, Thistle is accidentally hitting all the marks on Marcille's deepest fears-- and this is after the Winged Lion promised her that her dreams could come true in an extremely vulnerable moment, so it also hits her slightly guilty conscience as well.

I do truly believe that Marcille isn't bothered about being a half-elf the way that people assume she'd be bothered by it. To her, the biggest problem with being a half-elf is that it's isolating.

On one hand, it's not hard to imagine why she'd distance herself from elves in the west. A lot of them can clock her as a half-elf on sight, unlike other races, and therefore she's always branded with this weird stigma of being Othered -- I would even say that she considers herself lucky for being born outside of elven culture instead of having to grow up in it. I mean, just... look at the way elves talk about her.

Skipping past the uncomfortable implication of what 'not tolerating the existence' of half-elves would actually entail, this is incredibly fucking annoying. You can see why she wouldn't want to be around elves much. You see a lot of Marcille reacting badly here, but honestly, almost all of it can be attributed to her freaking out that her bluff completely failed. She's honestly more paying attention to Izutsumi's footsteps and trying to coordinate an opportunity to escape.

And in the end, you see her built-up frustration at being asked if she wants to be a full-blooded elf like 2-3 times in a row.

Yeah, yeah, "the lady doth protest too much," and all. But we know Marcille. We know that she's a lot more embarrassed and horrendously unconvincing when she's being prodded about something she's actually self-conscious about.

Moving onto the flipside of things, it might seem weird that she "pretends" to be a full elf around other races, but it's not really that strange if you think about it. Again, people are weird about her being infertile or whatever, and a lots of them don't even know much about what sets half-elves apart from everyone else. I mean, look at how uncomfortable Laios is just asking her about it

and look at how exasperated and resigned she looks

And like... she's right. Where would that come up in normal conversation? Why would she go out of her way to tell them? She's functionally a normal elf to other races anyway -- got the ears, the abnormally long "childhood", and the huge mana capacity. Unless it's directly relevant or important for people to know, I don't think it's all that strange or indicative of insecurity that she prefers not to bother with it.

(This combined with her sense of being an "outsider" to elf culture also explains why she thinks elf superiority is embarrassing. She sees the way elves treat short-lived races from the "outsider" perspective nonetheless, and thinks it's obnoxious; especially more so because she usually has to play the elf around short-lived races and deal with the reputation of arrogance that elves have built up.)

The sad thing is, this all means that... she doesn't actually fit in anywhere. She doesn't like going out West much because of how elves treat her. But she's also an outsider in the continents she was born in, treated like this exotic long-lived alien choosing to live among short-lived races for some reason. She is always an outsider, the Other, no matter where she goes. Add in the fact that she'll live longer than literally anyone she knows, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking.

And I think that's the crux of it. Marcille really doesn't act like she's at all self-conscious about being a half-elf because of any feelings of inferiority or being half-made or whatever. She considers herself a perfectly legitimate being and might even, in some ways, consider herself superior to normal elves because she's not blind with elf supremacy or whatever. (And whatever "elven biases" she displays, all of them are born more out of the fact that she's kind of bad at conceptualizing how other races age and mature compared to herself, not that she actually considers herself better or more mature simply for being an elf.)

I think that whatever self-consciousness Marcille has about being a half-elf is, instead, related to terror and loneliness. The reminder that it ensures she'll never truly belong anywhere for the rest of her very long life. The reminder that, in truth, even she's not actually sure how old she is by other races' standards (hence the discomfort when asked how old she is). She doesn't want to not be a half elf, or be a full elf or full tall-man-- in her ideal world, she's still a half-elf. She just gets to live out her life at the same pace with the people she loves and doesn't have to say goodbye again and again and again until she dies.

and one last very important panel, right after Mithrun tells her that all her desires would be devoured

In her ideal world, she's still a half-elf and reality magically starts marching at her pace. But failing that, the second best thing is that she's still a half-elf-- but one who is able to accept reality and let go of her fear.

(But the rest of the story pans out the way it does because, to Marcille, taking reality apart and reshaping it was less scary than simply and fully reconciling with it.)

[leapdayowo]

Redstone and Skulk OC time :3

Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:

short version:

-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)

-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy

-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later

-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)

-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)

-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things

-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes

okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):

Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.

It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.

They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one in the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!

——

In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.

However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.

During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.

He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-

She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.

Nothing.

No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!

This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.

Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.

Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.

Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).

Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.

During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.

By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.

She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-

Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.

Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?

It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.

Meanwhile…

in another world…

In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.

And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)

Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)

thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3

[pepperpixel]

“Can't remember when we walked past the O.R. sign!

(sur-ger-y!)

Can't remember passing out with her hand in mine!

(my-my-mind!!!!)

I remember waking up with my mind repaired.

(A-OK! ^^)

I remember when I realized, she wasn't there...”

Amnesia was her name….. is. so. horrifically. sadly fitting for these two in literally every single line. And I’m gonna NEED ALL OF U GUYS TO GO LISTEN TO IT NOW OK… THIS ISNT A DRILL GO GO GO GO!!!

Anyway… uhh. the fact Betty “blessed” this guy to like. An eternally long lifespan w THIS FUCKED UP OF A MENTAL STATE IS SO SCREWED UP GHGH- Like poor Simon god damn…! u kno he’d rather just keep on not sorting out his baggage and trauma forever too cuz it’d be too complicated… too much… force him to admit things about himself and about BETTY that he really really doesn’t want to… better to just leave it all unexamined.. pack it all into lil boxes so he can just try to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist… HE GOTTA LIVE FOREVER W IT THO… *ME BANGING ON SIMONS DOOR AT 3 IN THE MORNING*: “SIMON U GOTTA ACCEPT URSELF!!!! LOVE URSELF!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE N ACCEPT EVEN THE “BAD” PARTS OF URSELF!!!! SIMON PLEASE!!!!! SIMON EVEN PPL WHO LOVE YOU AND WHO YOU LOVE CAN HURT YOU!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE IT!!! ACKNOWLEDGE THE HURT AND ACKNOWLEDGE UR FEELINGS!!!! AND URSELF!!!!! SIMON!!!!” anyway… gGHGH YEA, SRRY. SIMON PETRIKOVS MENTAL ILLNESSES MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM GONNA EXPLODE. ANYWAY HAVE SOME ART. W a bunch of diff versions cuz I’m indecisive!

[frozen-fountain]

Inktober, Day Twenty-Seven: Beast

[jacksintention]

Concerning the conversation about love and hatred, I've compiled a few of the lines I've saved through these last two years that at times make me think of Jack when it comes to this topic

Estas manos, que son tuyas,

pero que al verte quisieran

quebrar las ramas azules

y el murmullo de tus venas.

¡Te quiero! ¡Te quiero! ¡Aparta!

Que si matarte pudiera,

te pondría una mortaja

con los filos de violetas.

¡Ay, qué lamento, qué fuego

me sube por la cabeza!

(...)

¡Ay qué sinrazón! No quiero

contigo cama ni cena,

y no hay minuto del día

que estar contigo no quiera,

porque me arrastras y voy,

y me dices que me vuelva

y te sigo por el aire

como una brizna de hierba.

.

Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night.

.

It is sometimes said that the sword wears out the scabbard. That is my history. My passions have made me live, and my passions have killed me.

.

Stronger than lover’s love is lover’s hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make.

I adore you, but I hate you too. You’re a prison smothered in flowers. I can’t stand this enchantment anymore, I can’t stand being bewitched like this–when I look at you, my gaze turns to nothing but a mirror of light, I’ll stare at you hypnotized for ages, and when I stop seeing you I’ll feel you, and when I stop feeling you I’ll die.

.

Someone tells me: this kind of love is not viable. But how can you evaluate viability? Why is the viable a Good Thing? Why is it better to last than to burn?

.

Life is a series of obsessions one must do away with. Aren’t love, death, God, or saintliness interchangeable and circumstantial obsessions?

.

she is the only thing of importance, because I have a God-relationship to her.

.

it is not she who binds me, but I who have made use of her to bind myself.

.

The thought that you exist is so divinely blissful in itself that it is ridiculous to talk about the everyday sadness of separation—a week’s, ten days’—what does it matter? Since my whole life belongs to you.

.

What have you done with me? he asks. I have repeated you.

.

But I do feel strange-almost unearthly. I’ll never get used to being alive. It’s a mystery. Always startled to find I’ve survived

Walking home, for a moment / you almost believe you could start again. / And an intense love rushes to your heart, / and hope. It's unendurable, unendurable

.

I clung to him as though only the one who had inflicted the pain could comfort me for suffering it.

I could be free … If I could pluck out the memory of him from my heart as easily as his heart was plucked from the fire, I could be free.

.

I am imprisoned by devotion. I shy away from people. I am alone. I fall into depression.

She was the world That he was losing; and the world he sought Was all a tale for those who had been living, And had not lived. Once even he turned his horse, And would have brought his army back with him To make her free. They should be free together. But the Voice within him said: “You are not free. You have come to the world’s end, and it is best You are not free. Where the Light falls, death falls; And in the darkness comes the Light.

.

I miss you like a knife in my throat.

.

Only love can save me and love has destroyed me.

Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects?

.

My songs are filled with poison - Why shouldn’t that be true? My heart bears a nest of serpents And also, darling, you.

.

their love is like hatred

.

She did not yet love him enough to be cruel to him.

.

our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love

.

under the sincere guise of hatred I simply loved […], only in this type of love (repulsion) I loved him with greater strength than had I loved him in the simplest form — attraction.

.

Perhaps he was handsome, perhaps I found him attractive, perhaps he repelled me too.

.

Struck by the abstract nature of absence; yet it’s so painful, lacerating. Which allows me to understand abstraction somewhat better: it is absence and pain, the pain of absence—perhaps therefore love?

.

Eroticism is the brink of the abyss. I’m leaning out over deranged horror (at this point my eyes roll back in my head). The abyss is the foundation of the possible. We’re brought to the edge of the same abyss by uncontrolled laughter or ecstasy. From this comes a “questioning” of everything possible. This is the stage of rupture, of letting go of things, of looking forward to death.

.

Love is madness. Doesn’t everyone agree that you’d do anything, endure anything, to be with the ones you love? So either you’re willing to let them use you with any sort of cruelty, so long as they keep you—which makes you a fool—or you’re willing to commit any cruelty, so long as you get to keep them—which makes you a monster. Either way, it’s madness.

.

This madness is so deep-rooted and so useful that it is impossible to realize what would become of each of us if it were someday to disappear.

.

If I must die of fire, why not let me die of yours: knowing that you are the author of my doom will make it more endurable to me

.

His desire for loyalty was naive, he hadn’t understood that being loyal wasn’t so tidy, being loyal means being disloyal to everything else.

.

I have always loved you / Always dreaded you

You will betray me, as I have betrayed, / And I shall kiss the hand that does me wrong

.

Listen: the way I loved you / was like my palm over a flame.

.

If I have the destruction of something that I once loved to carry with me at all times, isn’t it like I still have a companion?

.

One can fall in love and still hate.

.

and I will kill thee, And love thee after.

.

Yet, other characters, namely Heathcliff, Catherine, and Lockwood, remain more actively at war with love in their adult lives. Some force, as inexorable as the wind sweeping over the moors, seems to have bent their lives into a pattern of frustration that their own struggle for relief only aggravates. Their need for love is expressed, not through loving, but through the anguish of loneliness. Paradoxically, though they do not know it, this loneliness is the one condition necessary for the fulfillment of their most profound fantasy concerning perfect love: a love, that is, perfectly protected against the threat of abandonment that in childhood these sufferers learned that love entails.

.

I feel you there, in every pore. Your silence clamors in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out — but you can’t prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I’m certain you hear mine.

Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

I hate and I love. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask? I do not know, but I feel it happen and it is excruciating.

[holy-human-freak]

Finally got around to watching this video that had been in my recommendations for a while and it's great.

Basically after string theory starts getting attention from the public some big name String Theorists like Brian Greene and Michio Kaku start getting pop-sci book deals and going on documentaries and making a lot of money. Obviously, given their new financial incentives, these people present string theory as the next revolution in Physics. At the same time this was going on, actual physicists had largely stopped taking string theory seriously on account of it not making any experimentally verifiable predictions (the wiki page for the history of string theory ends in 2003). Eventually the public catches on to this and instead of learning what separates good science from bad science (creating models that explain all previous observations and make predictions about new ones) they start to view all of theoretical physics as this land of crackpots where you can predict whatever you want. Even highly successful theories like relativity, quantum mechanics, and the standard model start to be viewed like this. Theories that DID make new predictions that WHERE later observed.

Obviously there are people who became interested in theoretical physics because of these documentaries and books, and I think that's good! I was one of them! But when your theory hasn't made any progress for nearly a decade and you are talking about it like it's the next relativity and you the next Einstein, that is a massive abdication of your professional responsibility as both a scientist and a science communicator.

This has become a problem in particle physics too and I think it's no coincidence it started when they tried applying ideas from string theory to the standard model (super symmetry). SUSY at least makes predictions about new particles we should find but when everytime those particles arent observed you modify the theory so their masses are conveniently outside the range of current experiments, that's bad science. People are eventually going to catch on and stop giving funding to experiments that are actually trying to answer unsolved questions in the field and not chasing the rabbit of having one theory that can explain all of physics. A theory there is no reason to believe exists other than the fact effective field theories aren't philosophically pure enough.

(sidebar: From my understanding the foundational work behind string theory has gone on to be genuinely useful in some fields mathematics, which is why formulating these theories is useful even if from a physics perspective the final result isn't. But when you are presenting your PHYSICS theory as a PHYSICAL explication of the world to an audience that doesn't have the expertise to contextualize what you are talking about, maybe mention "by the way this theory has never made any testable predictions and was basically dead in the water by the start of the new millennium)

(second sidebar: This persons YouTube channel is great. She's probably my new favorite science youtuber. The fact that she delivered this whole rant while playing binding of Isaac to keep herself too distracted to even attempt to explain how string theory works is hilarious)

[link-lonk]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap is such a cool stand ability though, I think the part about it I love the most is how it builds off of the ending of Stone Ocean. Like at the of SO Pucci created a new universe very similar to the one all the previous parts took place in but not exact. SBR takes place in an alternate universe where some of the characters from before still exist but with different names and personalities. Starting SBR I thought it takes place in the past of the world Emporio ends up in after Pucci's reset, but D4C says that there are an infinite number of these alternate worlds where everything is almost but not quite the same. The base world of SBR and the ending world of SO could very well be two completely different worlds. The other thing about D4C is even though it allows Valentine to travel to these other worlds the time in each stays constant, he can't use these worlds to jump forward or backward in time and in each world he's shown to be in similar situation to that of himself in the base world. To get the alternate Dio to come to the base world he had to travel through countless other just to find one where Dio was alive, and even that Dio died in the end. I think it all kinda goes back to Pucci's point of gravity, everything is fated to happen one way or another. No matter how many worlds he escaped to, Valentine was still fated to die by Johnny's infinite rotation.

[layzeal]

i blacked out today and wrote a whole threadfic on a silly little scenario that turned out both. uh. very lemon and also a little sappy. enjoy

[heybobbygirl]

[me approximately 50 minutes ago] oughhh these are the worst fuckinf cramps ive ever had uggghhh oh sweet that fic just updated

[me approximately 5 minutes ago after reading jt] AAAGGGGHHHHH I FEEL WORSEEEE FUUUUUUCK WWWWHHHHAAAAHAAAAGGGGHHH

[raksh-writes]

Finally finished editing that months-old post-canon VP fic, omgg 😩 Hopefully I can write my rambling notes tomorrow and post it too! That'd be nice.

And now gotta go and try to get some sleep, wish me luck 😪

[volot]

every time someone shows that they like my celestica stuff i am effectively on the floor

[stripesysheaven]

one thing about me. i will not shut up in the tags

[themirokai]

I posted 7,898 times in 2022

That's 5,439 more posts than 2021!

298 posts created (4%)

7,600 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@managerie76

@gloriesunsung

@/caspercryptid

@argylepiratewd

@oodlyenough

I tagged 5,497 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#arcane - 1,074 posts

#the sandman netflix - 575 posts

#jayvik - 442 posts

#viktor - 260 posts

#the sandman - 246 posts

#dream of the endless - 245 posts

#doctor who - 226 posts

#dreamling - 205 posts

#star wars - 176 posts

#jayce talis - 135 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and because i had a public-facing job when i got married and the fact that i got married was only of the business of people i wanted to tell

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ok so listen… here is what is breaking my poor bisexual brain about Arcane.

These two…

And them…

See the full post

305 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#4

Hey would you like a little Dreamling ficlet? Sure you would...

(Probably in the same universe as The Century Gentleman but you don't need to have read that one... though of course I hope you will.)

Update: This is now on Ao3!

Hob rubbed his eyes in an attempt both to clear his blurring vision and chase away the headache that had been building for the last 20 minutes. He reread the paragraph he had just written and sighed. He was no Shakespeare, a treacherous internal voice reminded him. 

“Come to me.”

That voice was also in his head but it definitely did not belong to him. 

“I can’t, Dream,” he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m busy.”

“You are exhausted and your head aches.”

“Yes,” Hob acknowledged to the empty room, “and that doesn’t change the fact that I need to convince university administration not to cut the history department’s budget.” 

“What does it matter? You said yourself that you only have a few years left in this place.”

“It matters,” Hob grumbled around the catch of annoyance in his throat, “because it’s not about me. It’s about some kid who has their eyes opened to the context of the problems of the world because of a well-taught history class. It’s about a kid who decides to devote their life to making the world a better place because their history professor inspired them.” 

“All the more reason, then, for you to tackle this when you’re better rested.” Dream’s tone had gentled. “Come to me.” 

Hob heaved a deep sigh and waited, but did not feel the familiar change in the atmosphere that signaled when Dream had crossed into the waking world. 

“You’re not coming to ‘Sandman’ me?” he asked after a moment. 

“I will if you like, but it seems unnecessary. If you go to bed you will be asleep in minutes. I will be waiting.” 

Hob heaved another sigh, then turned off his computer and went to brush his teeth. 

Hob felt like he had just closed his eyes when a thin white hand was reaching for him. He took the hand in his own and felt himself being pulled, both towards Dream and into a deep sleep. 

And then he was in Dream’s arms, his face pressed against his lover’s chest. Dream smelled of cold night air, and his skin was cool as always, but his solidity was a comfort. 

“I am glad you came,” Dream said softly. 

Hob looked up at him, and then up some more. Dream’s physical manifestation always varied in the Dreaming. Tonight he was well over six feet tall, skin gleaming white, black hair floating wildly around his head, and eyes of midnight shining with twin stars. Hob smiled up at him and was met with an answering smile that was incongruously warm on such an imposing figure. 

Dream cupped Hob’s cheek in his large hand and ran a thumb gently under his eye. 

“I do not like it when you suffer,” Dream said. 

Hob chuckled. “This isn’t suffering, love. I’ve been through suffering. This is just a headache.”

“I do not wish for you to be in any amount of pain.” Dream frowned. “And this… budget cut… has upset you.” 

Hob turned his head to kiss Dream’s palm, then smiled up at him. “I’m starting to think that I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.” 

He blinked as Dream shrunk down so that they were once again the same height. 

“I intend to make sure of that,” Dream murmured as he leaned forward to kiss Hob’s lips.

328 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#3

Um my hand slipped and I wrote 930 words of Matthew being the very best raven a sad emo bastard of a dream lord could ask for. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely sure how he navigated the Palace of the Dreaming. It wasn’t like the rooms stayed the same or like the rooms that were almost always there (the Library for example) stayed in the same place. He wasn’t even sure that they had a place as it were. 

But if Matthew thought about where he wanted to go and started flying, usually he got there. 

Lord Morpheus was easy to find in the Dreaming. He had a gravitational pull, like the entire realm was being gently drawn towards him at all times. All Matthew had to do was follow the current and eventually he would end up on the Dream King’s shoulder. 

He thought sometimes about how Jessamy must have felt, separated from that comforting current for decades. It made his feathers stand on end and made him grip Lord Morpheus’s shoulder a little tighter with his talons. It wasn’t at all surprising to Matthew that Jessamy gave her life trying to free Lord Morpheus. He was certain that if he was in her shoes (well, not shoes, birds don’t wear shoes) he would have done the same.

Matthew stood in front of the door and cocked his head, looking at it. Lord Morpheus was on the other side of the door, Matthew could feel his pull. He had been Somewhere Else, not the Dreaming or the waking world, and hadn’t taken Matthew, which had Matthew’s feathers a bit ruffled. But now he was back in the Dreaming and Matthew wanted to go to him. Just to check in. See if he needed anything. Make sure he was ok. And so he had started following the pull but ended up in front of this closed door. 

He hadn’t reached a closed door before. Usually walls and doors in the Palace just kind of became insubstantial as he approached them. Maybe this one meant that Lord Morpheus wanted to be alone? Maybe it meant that something was wrong? Matthew considered going to check with Lucienne but what if something was wrong now? What if it would be more wrong in the time it took him to find Lucienne and come back? What if Lucienne would be horrified that Matthew hadn’t tried - really tried - to get to Lord Morpheus? 

Matthew took a breath, pictured Lord Morpheus, and pushed -

He tumbled beak over tail feathers into the room. 

Matthew got to his feet and shook his feathers back into place, then looked around. Lord Morpheus was sitting on a cushion on the floor in the corner of the room, knees drawn up to his chest. He looked far more like a wet cat than the mighty king of a realm, even though he was in his human form. Matthew hopped a little closer. 

“Uh, Boss?” 

Lord Morpheus raised his head. His eyes were black with stars in them but still looked wet and shimmering. 

“Matthew?” 

“Hey,” Matthew hopped up to his feet, “are you ok?”’

Lord Morpheus ran his hand over his face then shifted to sit with his legs crossed in front of him. “I am… ok. I was speaking with my sister, Despair. As always it was a trying experience.” 

“Do - uh - do you want me to leave you alone? You had the door closed…” 

“No.” The answer came much faster than Matthew was expecting. “No, I find I would be glad of the company.” 

Warmed by this, Matthew hopped up onto Lord Morpheus’s knee. “Siblings, huh?” 

“Did you have siblings, Matthew?” He rested his head against the wall behind him. 

“A little sister,” Matthew replied with a shake of his feathers. “She was a pain in the ass. Not the anthropomorphic personification of despair, mind you, but certainly not pleasant.” 

Lord Morpheus chuckled softly and reached out to stroke the back of his index finger over the feathers of Matthew’s chest. 

That… huh. That felt really good. Matthew leaned into the contact and Lord Morpheus kept stroking. 

“So what did Despair want?” 

“The usual,” Lord Morpheus huffed, “to goad me. Under the guise of ‘catching up’ of course.” 

“Do you think Desire put her up to it?” 

“It is possible. But Despair hardly needs encouragement. She hates me just as much as her twin does, though she is generally less devious in her ways of showing it.” 

“Why do they hate you so much?” 

“Our realms are close together but I exceed them in power. Death and Destiny are too remote to provoke their ire, but I am near enough to inspire jealousy and competition.” 

“Why do you talk to them then if they just bring you grief?” 

See the full post

591 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

#2

With the announcement of season 2 my fellow dreamling shippers understand that the ship is not going to become canon right?

Hob will show up in season 2, Sturridge and Kingsley will probably have the incredible chemistry that got us all into this ship, and what will be on the screen is a completely platonic friendship.

And when that happens people are not going to complain and send Neil horrible asks, right?

Because dreamling is awesome and it is ours. The ship belongs to the fans. If we want content of it then we have to make it and support the fans who are making it.

It’s not going to be canon, and you know what? That’s awesome! Because it belongs to us and we can make it whatever we want.

There is already so much incredible art and fic out there. Let’s make more and let’s tell the people who make it that we love it.

Dreamling is ours.

684 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey friends. Do this:

This probably took this person 3 seconds to do but it immediately told me that they liked my story enough to come back and read it again and they liked it again the second time.

Your favorite writers Do Not Know that you think about their stories after you read them. I generally assume that my stories make people happy for the few minutes they’re reading and then they never think about it again. To know that that’s not the case and that someone has returned just makes my little heart swell with joy.

I needed this today. If you’re the person who left this comment (or if you’ve ever commented on any of my writing) I love you.

29,288 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

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