#undestructable

[coffinbutch]

Gogol was soooo awesome btw. I never get tired of those guys

[hunting-songs]

Drinks On Me! Somehow, someway, your character has found themselves on a pub crawl. What do they do? Bold the choice that applies the most for each pub.

Pub I Huddles in a corner staring wide-eyed at the group and wonders how they got there in the first place | Sits off to the side, sipping something non-alcoholic and watches the antics | Cheerfully sits with the group and drinks their first round | Calls for a round of shots to get the party started | Hangs our near the center of things, telling stories and cracking jokes

Pub II  Finds a new corner to huddle in, growing increasingly concerned as the drinks flow | Panicky tries to find Water instead of Alcohol | Relents and orders a glass bottle of wine to nurse chug through the next ice age | Laughs and chats with the group, drinking the drinks and enjoying the camaraderie | Is off flirting and chatting someone (or a few someones) up | Has made friends with the pub’s musician and is on stage singing and/or dancing a jig | Is still not drunk

Pub III Has been kidnapped by a roving gang of pirates smugglers (ironically also on a pub crawl of their own) | On a third glass bottle of wine and starting to let flow all sorts of interesting self details | Is probably already unconscious | Has managed to spontaneously get half the bar to sing a drinking song | Has hooked up, proposed, and split up at least twice thus far and is working on their rebound third | Disappeared into a back alley with a shady looking character leaving assurances of picking something up to “liven things up a little” | Has already passed out at Pub 1 | Is still not drunk

Pub IV After being adopted as their impromptu mascot, is now being ferried around by the pirates smugglers on a makeshift palanquin as their “Pirate Queen” | Beyond wine drunk and keeps losing layers because it’s “too hot” | Is engaging in some cross group friendly rivalry in the ages old combination of booze and hurling sharp objects (or shoes) at a target (or has ended up in one or four bar fights)| Passed out in the gutter halfway to the fourth pub | Picks up the part of the group laying drunk in the gutter to bring them home | Whether it is incendiaries or herding the entire crew onto an impromptu dragon flight, whatever surprise is planned will be memorable | Is still not drunk

Tagged By: A little Wildbirdie! Tagging: @rake-rake @skarletchains @bewitchingbaker @nephytale @gyofukuki @jxgi @uzumakiuser @kiigan @distortedkilling @yeonban @swxpped @zealctry @muddsludge @curseisms @saiakv ....AND YOU!

[dangerousskeletoncoptree]

thinking about the implications of font or their ghost companion teaching any of the cores magic (UT magic to be more precise)

[sonsband]

so offensive I'm being made to get up and go to work this morning I should get a concert hangover day after that

[howlidae]

EUREKA!

After the announcement of Ace Attorney: Investigations 1&2 on the Switch, I hosted a redraw of the promotional poster in my server. Over thirty-five artists participated in this gargantuan love letter to the duology!! Fulls below!

Credit (in order of versions posted above):

Miles Edgeworth: @howlidae, @notcoolkris, @u3pxx Dick Gumshoe: @Largeworm, VER2, @drawingdreamboats Kay Faraday: @replin4mi, @summertrianglee, @esdithequeen Eustace Winner: @walkman-cat, @morbidlypositive, @CleverLittleGoddess, @stubbyartist Verity Gavelle: @CoffeeKauz, @gaylawyers Eddie Fender: @kissingonclouds, @ladderlovesscaffeine, Shih-Na: @/robeccasteams (Twitter), WevuGotHacked (no soc), @andromedachainn Shi-Long Lang: @TheSmolAndFurious, @anatomical-puppet, @tinkerpeller, @CoffeeKauz Franziska von Karma: @lastritesbish, @lawyest, @MixMatchMagic, VER4 Manfred von Karma: @notcoolkris, @roandroid, @whisunny Gregory Edgeworth: @/d2cc__ (TikTok), @esdithequeen, @toads-n-moss Ema Skye: @BigMoneyDeluxe (Twitter), @gaylawyers, @howdoesbrainwork, @pastel-ducks Shelly deKiller: @kissingonclouds Shaun Fenn: @morbidlypositive, @teradriive Maggey Byrde: @pineconemilk, @39Mice, @athena-the-undestructible Tabby Lloyd: @ladderlovesscaffeine Lotta Hart: @im-arty, @pastel-ducks Regina Berry: @andromedachainn Simeon Saint: @39Mice, @CleverLittleGoddess Tyrell Badd: @teradriive, @whisunny Blue Badger: @anatomical-puppet Pink Badger: @notcoolkris Proto Badger: @itzjustfritz_ Steel Samurai: @lawyest Pink Princess: @/BigMoneyDeluxe_ (Twitter) Justice statue: @CoffeeKauz

[sith-shenanigans]

The thing about the Omelas story is that I don’t hate it, actually.

Don’t get me wrong. Usually, when I think about it, it drives me up a wall. I also—on the subject of responses to it—didn’t really like The Ones Who Stay And Fight. (Most of my reasons are said, better, in this article. Not the part about the tone, but that it shot for ambiguity and ended up in “somehow, the clearly magical power of child suffering made more sense than intolerance being a memetic virus that can only be solved through police murder.”) I’m fond of responding to trolley problems by asking who’s tying people to trolleys, and then insisting that it is morally relevant that someone tied those people to the tracks, because you wouldn’t be deciding who lives and who dies if someone hadn’t made the deliberate choice to put those people in mortal peril for no pressing reason.

(I like to think I’d save the five people. I think a lot of us would most likely panic and do something entirely unhelpful, and in practice, I have no idea if I’m one of them, because no one has ever tied anybody to a trolley track in front of me. It just hasn’t come up. But the ideal would be to save the five people. That’s not my answer in the organ-harvesting version, though, because it’s bad for everyone to live in a place where a surgeon can decide to kill you for your organs, no matter how many people doing it just this once would save.)

But I don’t dislike the story that Omelas came from. I don’t even dislike trolley problems, unless people are trying to insist that the context doesn’t matter. (The context always matters.) The problem is that everyone treats Omelas as a trolley problem. “Here’s a utopia where one innocent person has to suffer horribly. Is it worth it, to keep so many other people from suffering? Would you stay and be complicit, or would you walk out to go anywhere else?” The child is the central feature of Omelas, the only thing that matters. The child is nonnegotiable. You can’t rescue them, you can only walk away.

But the narrator did give us the chance to believe, before adding the child in.

Omelas is described to us as half place and half thought experiment, by a narrator that adds things as they go, a narrator that says this at close to the opening:

As they did without monarchy and slavery, so they also got on without the stock exchange, the advertisement, the secret police, and the bomb. Yet I repeat that these were not simple folk, not dulcet shepherds, noble savages, bland utopians. They were not less complex than us. The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. If you can't lick 'em, join 'em. If it hurts, repeat it. But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. We have almost lost hold; we can no longer describe a happy man, nor make any celebration of joy.

And goes on, in the narrative, to consider the reader’s opinion, to ask what they’ll believe.

I wish I could convince you. Omelas sounds in my words like a city in a fairy tale, long ago and far away, once upon a time. Perhaps it would be best if you imagined it as your own fancy bids, assuming it will rise to the occasion, for certainly I cannot suit you all. For instance, how about technology? I think that there would be no cars or helicopters in and above the streets; this follows from the fact that the people of Omelas are happy people. Happiness is based on a just discrimination of what is necessary, what is neither necessary nor destructive, and what is destructive. In the middle category, however – that of the unnecessary but undestructive, that of comfort, luxury, exuberance, etc. – they could perfectly well have central heating, subway trains, washing machines, and all kinds of marvelous devices not yet invented here, floating light-sources, fuelless power, a cure for the common cold. Or they could have none of that: it doesn't matter. As you like it.

[…]

But even granted trains, I fear that Omelas so far strikes some of you as goody-goody. Smiles, bells, parades, horses, bleh. If so, please add an orgy. If an orgy would help, don't hesitate. […] Surely the beautiful nudes can just wander about, offering themselves like divine souffles to the hunger of the needy and the rapture of the flesh. Let them join the processions. Let tambourines be struck above the copulations, and the glory of desire be proclaimed upon the gongs, and (a not unimportant point) let the offspring of these delightful rituals be beloved and looked after by all. One thing I know there is none of in Omelas is guilt. But what else should there be?

Omelas is a story being told to a listener, a utopia being described; the reader is an implied participant in a conversation, the narrator reacting to what they said where the page couldn’t hear. And so, after all of that, the narrator says:

Do you believe? Do you accept the festival, the city, the joy? No? Then let me describe one more thing.

And the narrator goes on to describe the child, the terrible price, the self-justifications that people employ. Because the listener doesn’t accept the festival, the city, the joy—only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. So the narrator engages in “the treason of the artist” (if you can't lick 'em, join 'em) and regales us with the child’s sorry state.

[…] They know that they, like the child, are not free. They know compassion. It is the existence of the child, and their knowledge of its existence, that makes possible the nobility of their architecture, the poignancy of their music, the profundity of their science. It is because of the child that they are so gentle with children. They know that if the wretched one were not there snivelling in the dark, the other one, the flute-player, could make no joyful music as the young riders line up in their beauty for the race in the sunlight of the first morning of summer.

Now do you believe in them? Are they not more credible?

I don’t think we’re being asked, as readers, to consider whether it’s worth it, though it’s certainly something we can consider if we want. But the narrative seems quite clear that it isn’t: to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. A description of Omelas, of why Omelas should be believed in, but how could that be anything but a condemnation of a city powered by a forsaken child?

And, of course, everyone wants to ask—why don’t we free the child, why don’t we comfort the child, why don’t we change things and take the risk of making everything worse? Why is the best thing we can do to walk away?

Because we needed the utopia to have suffering in it, to believe it. Because it couldn’t be real until there was a cost, a price, something cruel and unfair to balance out the scales. Something had to be wrong with Omelas, as the narrator spun it up before us. Yes, perhaps we could save the child, perhaps we could ruin everything, perhaps we could be heroes—wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that be the story we want, here, where someone is suffering and only we (who are of course more compassionate than everyone else) can fix it? That would make it a real utopia, if we could kick down the doors and fix everything ourselves.

But it would have been better to believe that Omelas could exist without someone suffering for it, when we were asked.

[futurewriter2000]

Second Chance

A/N: I don't know how this can end in a happy ending but... I'll try. I didn't even know how to start writing this request but I think I did fairly well and even better than I expected. I think I can do it better though but for now, I'll give you this. Short-ish and sweet. I tried to put everything into one fic.

REQUEST #14 (wattpad) @fredsdeath: HI!! I love all ur books especially the fred weasley book and uhm i was wondering if you could do my request abt how y/n pretends to have amnesia and not remember fred bc fred was her ex and broke her heart in their past relationship like happy emding or not its fine and this is just a suggestion its still okay if you dont do it tho :D

XX

They say that the first few months always feel like a true honeymoon and then the reality hits but it wasn't like that with you and Fred. It was different because the two of you were friends first before anything and that changed everything. You knew who he was, the good and the bad, as well as he did. The two of you had this undestructable bond, nothing in the world could break. It felt real, it felt true, it felt like a once in a life-time love and you believed that.

You did... until you didn't anymore.

There were moments of Fred acting ditant. Sometimes when you looked into his eyes, he wasn't there and when he smiled, it felt forced. You felt like you were too much for him so you took a step back as well, thinking that space was all that he needed. You were different than him however, you didn't want space, you needed reassurence that he is still the Fred that will hold your hands and kiss them randomly when the two of you are laughing or just sitting together. You believed that the Fred that walked down the hall, nagging you jokingly until you retorded a sarcastic comment back, pretending to be furious with him until he nagged you until you laughed- was still somehow there. You believed that the Fred who made your stomach cramp either from laughter or butterflies will appear soon. It's just a hard transitioning moment, now that the new headmistress is on. He's coming back... he's still Fred.

He wasn't though.

"What do you mean?" your eyes twitched and you couldn't figure out whether you were angry or sad. You kept looking at the ground, not knowing when your hands ripped themselves from his.

"It's not you, I swear, it's just-"

"It's you." you looked at him, your lip trembling but you refused to cry in front of him.

"It is..." he bit his lower lip. "I just don't think that this is it." he said and you refused to look at him. He forced a smile and swayed on his feet. "We can still be friends." he said, touching your shoulder playfully as if all of a sudden you will place a smile on your face, bright and jolly but you turned your head away, wiped the crocodile tear that fell from your eyes and looked at him.

"Who is she?" you said with a sharp cold tone.

"There isn't-"

"You never lied to me, Fred. Don't start now." you glared.

He looked at you and pursed his lips together. He looked away and you let out a laugh from disbelief.

"I had a feeling but I always refused to listen to it. You know why?" you paused. "Because my trust for you was bigger than my insecurities but you just made me believe I was going crazy for such a long time until you grew balls to tell me."

"I just kissed her once-"

"Oh-" you literally heard your heart break inside your chest.

"She KISSED ME-" he mumbled. "I swear, I didn't kiss her first, she just sort of leaned in and I pulled away and I didn't want to say anything, I swear because I thought it was nothing but she just sort of... I don't know... I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"So you want to slag around."

"NO!" he started to get frustrated, shaking his head. "I just- I'm lost right now. I don't know what I want."

"You want her."

"No-" he shook his head. "I don't know... maybe... I don't know."

"Fuck you." you said, slapping him hard on his cheek that it turned red immediatelly. "You just wasted fucking 8 months of my life." and with that you turned around.

----

It's been a long year now since then and you knew her name... not that you truly wanted it but you heard of a short fling between Fred and Angelina Jonson. She was another good friend of his and you wished you figured it out sooner but you haven't.

You've cried. You did. More than just one crocodile tear. You've made a mess from your room and your roommates didn't really mind. They've been patient and graceful with you. They've also been a good distraction from your emotions and you were glad you weren't when Fred made his great parting with fireworks in Hogwarts that year.

You've put yourself together since then. You did and you've heard he's been with that woman, another woman, a few other women and you didn't want to hear none of it. Your friends kept telling you about it, despite you didn't want to. You heard about his shop and all of other things.

Now... well, now you've had your own appartment, which was quite hard with the economy but you wanted your place since you were an early teen. And to think of it, getting an appartment was easier than getting a job that pays well on your education. But it did. You've worked in a small bussiness, grammar checking documents that came in and out. Something close to an accounting. It wasn't what you wanted but it was something.

You haven't seen Fred in a year and a half. He was still on your mind though. He was. It was as if he put a chip into you that keeps rewinding time back to when the two of you were in love.

What you hated more was that you did move on but somehow he was still following you everywhere you went. You didn't see him anywhere and you knew that was a good sign but you were always on the lookout. Close to his shop, you felt anxious and you thought it over what would happen if he came out now and see you. You didn't know. You didn't know anything. Your brain turned off like nothing.

But that never happened and so you were okay with moving on.

---

So how did you end up here?

How did he end up here?

The last thing you told him was that he should have fun with your replacement and he did... for a short time. It really infuriated him that you told him that but Angelina really wasn't the one either. He pushed it as far as he could but something didn't click with her. He didn't feel joy with her, he felt obligated to be with her but he grew tired of being with someone.

He told you he forgets people easily but why did seeing you hurt so much. It was like a sting into his heart- quick but short. He couldn't mumble a word when you stood there and there was no shine in your eyes, no glow on you as he remembered you. There was a smile but not as joyful.

You stood there... still beautiful.

He hated that. He hated that you were still beautiful- more than him... since always.

He turned his head away, not wanting to look at you anymore. He was furious- so darn furious. Why didn't anybody tell him about you?

"There she is!" Remus came over with his hands on your shoulders, gently and formally.

You smiled brightly at him because you adored him as a professor. He was the only professor who made a course feel important and interesting.

"She was my best student and she now works in a small company for accounting- a shame to waste your talents there."

Sirius, he stood up tall and mighty, almost king-like and you felt infatuated by his kingly presence. His eyes were cold blue but his look was warm and safe.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Azkaban or something?" you joked and he laughed.

"Been there, didn't like it much." he retorded back and a few of the group laugh. "She's been working for me too for a bit. Remus recommended her- just for a short time and she turned out to be trustworthy. I bet she went to Hogwarts with you."

Ginny ran to you into a hug immediately and smiled up to you... well not up anymore. She seemed taller than you by a few centimeters. The two of you always had a great friendship, despite Fred. She adored you and you adored her.

"I can't believe you're here!" she exclaimed and you laughed, hugging her tightly.

"Me neither. This man put me through hell."

"I did not." Sirius gasped.

"Don't leave him alone in this house for long ever again."

"We have so much to catch up!"

And you did. With the whole group. You did work with Sirius through Remus. You've never really met him personally, always through some Howlers, letters, some other secret forms of communication and he was always so arrogant through it. He had grumpy and sassy remarks and at first you were professional about it but through time you've had enough and returned the energy. It has mostly been with the documents you've been grammarly correcting. They had been reciepts from big, luxiourious wizard families and you could see in some of those reciepts which were on the bad side, which on the good and which were fleeding and unreliable.

You didn't know about the other participants except Remus, Tonks and Sirius. Soon you figured Moody was one as well when he trampled into your office, asking questions and now you've met others.

You've never been much of a leap of faith person but you've always had a strong urge to stand for fairness and justice. You've fired up when you had to, not knowing until you went to bed that night. Remus saw that in you and he knew that all you needed was a little push.

You've always been reliable and when you promised something, you didn't back out, even if you were extremely anxious. He knew you could never back out from this. A bit manipulating but well, that was the push.

You've looked at Moody with your mouth on the ground.

"Turn into Harry?" you looked at all the others, especially at Remus.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." said Harry.

"No, it's not that." you laughed. "Couldn't we just turn Harry into some random Muggle and transport him?"

The others thought about it as it could be.

"No!" Moody shouted. "Would you think they'd just let some random Muggle with a stick in his boot let into the Ministry?" he growled at you, approaching you. "No- now dress up lil priss." and he shoved clothes at you.

You looked after him than walked to Harry. "Are you comfortable with this? Us... turning into you?"

He gave you a comforting smile. "Not really but a plan is a plan. My comfort is not really in question." he offered you a smile and you returned it, though you felt a bit sad for the boy, espeicially when others made awful comments about them.

What you didn't notice was the little peeps Fred was giving you when you undressed, easily unclasping your bra under your Harry shirt and throwing it in the corner.

George apperead in front of him as Harry, giving him a grin meanwhile Fred just put his glassess on and pretended not to look.

"You're with me little priss." one of the Harry's told you and winked at you.

As you walked behind fake Harry, you passed what you thought was Fred and he called out your name. "Hey, (Y/n)."

You turned around. "What?"

"Stay safe."

You looked at him and nodded, turning back to the fake Harry, feeling your heart beating fast. Not because of Fred... this was pure fear.

---

Fred just turned back into himself, laughing with his father about the trip when Ginny told him about George. He was running into the living room, finding his best friend bloody on the couch.

"Shit, George." he came to his side.

"I'm howy." George whispered.

"What George?" Fred leaned in worriedly.

"I said..." George took a breath. "I'm holy now Fred."

Fred rolled his eyes and laughed from all the relief. "Only you can crack a joke about a blown up ear."

He looked up, smiling joyfully when the others smiled back, hugging him and George. It wasn't until two were missing. He looked around again. "Where are Tonks and (y/n)?" he asked but the others looked around and nobody was around.

"Remus is waiting for them, I'll go out and check." said Arthur but just as he was about to head out the door, Remus came rushing the door with you in his arms. His shirt was soaked in your blood, Tonks' hands as well.

"MOVE!" shouted Remus as Arthur cleared the table so that Remus could place you there gently.

"It came out of nowhere- I don't know who is was but she was blown off our broom and fell hard on the woods. She hit her head pretty hard." Tonks spoke quickly, like your life depended on it.

Ginny and Molly were right by your side, Remus as well. Fred just watched with his eyes wide open. Everything was gone, all the anger, all of it, out of his system. There was no room for anger, only regret and sadness.

"(y/n)- come on little priss, you have to wake up." Remus slapped your cheeks gently.

It was so sudden. You laid there calmly and like you were awaken from the dead, you jumped up and took a deep breath in.

"Where am I?!" you looked around, feeling your head pounding but everything was extremely bloody.

You heard voices around you but none of them were clear.

"You're safe-" you looked around but you recognised that voice anywhere.

"Professor Lupin? Where's Madam Pince my head is-" you were just about to say something when you started choking on your own blood.

Fred fell on the floor, just by George when he saw the sight.

Arthur saw the terror in Fred's eyes and shouted at the other. "GET HIM OUT OF HERE! ALL OF YOU OUT!"

---

Fred had a whole review of your life together back in Hogwarts. Everything turned back- everything. The small things, the big things and he realised that not once did the two of you had a bad memory together. Not one but until he broke things off.

He was pacing up and down outside the living room. Ginny kept trying to calm him down but he was not consolable. Not until you were completely alright. Not until he comes back and you're breathing and smiling at him.

Finally Arthur came to Fred, only to Fred because he knew of their past together. His expression was grim but it wasn't something Fred could read at the moment. He had you in perfect image. Since always.

"How is she?!" he quickly asked and everybody stood up and listened as well.

"She's living and breathing." he said, putting his hand on Fred's shoulder. "Remus is great at taking care of people, so she's resting with George... however... she kept recalling back a few years..." he looked up worriedly. "She kept asking for Dumbledore and... McGonagall..." he continued. "Remus says it could be shock or some short amnesia."

"What does that mean, dad?" Fred asked but his father only looked away. "Dad!"

"I don't know really... only time will tell when she wakes up."

Fred burst through the door and found his two favorite people laying on the couch. It was odd sight becuase you were there moving your lips and looking at your roommate, fist bumping him.

"Samesiess." George shouted weakley. "I've always wanted a girl roommate."

"Ew." you said, laughing.

"Not like that- Merlin." George said. "If moving my eyes wouldn't hurt I'd roll my eyes right now."

"If I could have the strenght to move my hands I'd show you the middle finger."you replied and could hear him laugh, caughing.

Fred smiled from relief and walked confidently into the room. "Hey, you two are on bed rest, stop talking and laughing." he said, sitting at George's side first. He looked at you and you looked at him.

"George?" you said worriedly. "I didn't know you had a sibling?"

"I have eight of them... or seven... six... I really don't know..."

"I didn't know you had one that looks exactly like you." you furrowed your eyebrows and it was only for a joke. You've always wanted to play a joke but something in Fred's eyes.

Something in his eyes made him come towards you and look at you with the same look he did all those years. The same eyes that you prayed for such a long time ago.

"You don't remember me?" he asked.

And you haven't got any clue why you turned your head and mumbled no. You turned it away from him because you felt something hurt inside of you so much by having him looking at you so close. Your heart was tearing up inside of you all over again and you wished, you prayed, you said you never met him because that was what you truly wanted. You wanted that he never existed in your brain because it just... hurts so much.

"Please leave me alone." you said and kept shutting your eyes.

Fred backed away, terror in his eyes, his heart, rage? Perhaps shock- something was in his chest, burning up his throat. He didn't hear the pain in your throat or the tears that fell from your eyes when you turned away. He couldn't function properly.

"Fred..." he heard George but he just stormed outside.

It was as if something was spinning in his head. It was so horrible.

Ginny came after him, calling out his name, asking what is wrong.

"WHAT'S WRONG?!" he turned around, a big forced smile of disbelief, almost wicked-like. "I ALMOST LOST TWO PEOPLE THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME! BESIDES THAT ONE LOST AN EAR, THE OTHER LOST A BLOODY MEMORY OF ME- OF OUR WHOLE RELATIONSHIP!!!"

Ginny stood there. Usually she would shout something back but she just let him yell.

"Ginny- she-" he started to break down, falling onto his knees and pulling his long legs into a hug.

Ginny walked to his side and hugged him around the shoulders. "It could be temporary... she's just in a shock."

"She remembers George."

"How do you know? She just talked to him like she woud with another person."

"She wouldn't talk to me like this..."

"She would." Ginny added and Fred looked at her, letting a laugh.

"Yeah... she would... she was unpredicatable like that." he said.

"Why did the two of you even break up?"

"I don't know really." Fred mumbled. "But I don't know if I can live through her not remembering us... you know?" he looked at Ginny, then laid his head on her shoulder. "We used to have so much fun... when we were together. She was so snarky and confident..."

"She's always so happy and has such a good heart." Ginny added.

"Yeah... she was perfect and... I really didn't know we would work so well together but I don't know... I thought she would be a fling and I wasn't ready to commit- she just... she deserved so much better than me, I always knew that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... look at her and look at me." he lookd at Ginny.

"Fred, she looked at you as if you were the whole world for her, not because of your looks or it was because of your looks, I doubt that though but she didn't want anybody else. She wanted you." Ginny said and Fred looked at her.

"I don't know Ginny."

"You do know, Fred. You were the one who thought you didn't deserve her and with the way you were acting after the two of you broke up, just told me how much she hurt you." she continued without any filter. "And it wasn't that she hurt you... it was that you were furious that you fucked up a good thing."

Fred looked at his sister with a confused look. She didn't use that kind of language. "I don't know when you grew up so much, Ginny." he said and laid his head back on her shoulder. "But... if she forgot about us... and me... I don't know- she was the only person who really knew me and it was hard for her to trust me in the first place. When she did, it felt like I met the right person to feel safe with..."

"Like I said... we can hope that she does remember."

---

You and George were laying in the darkness, both resting. You were glad the whole thing was over, even though you almost couldn't have made it out alive.

"Do you really not remember Fred?" asked George.

There was silence but you looked to the darkness beside you where George was speaking from. "I wish I didn't." you said.

"Why did you tell him then you didn't?" he asked calmly.

You turned your head back to the dark ceiling. "I just... I actually don't know... it was a joke at first..."

"I gathered that but he just saw two of people he cared about almost die in front of his eyes so I believe him for not catching it."

"Then he just looked at me with those eyes... like that he cares and I just... I don't know I wanted to make sure if he does or not so I just said no."

There was a small laugh from the other side. "Did you get your answer?"

"Kind of." you shrugged.

"(y/N)." he said in a serious tone. "He bloody loved you. You didn't know how he was when you weren't around. First he was furious, then he was frustrated when you didn't catch our fireworks, then he was melancholic for a while and all of a sudden he got an urge to go after every girl that walked into the shop- age appropriate to be clear." he stopped for a moment. "He cared, he really did- he didn't know how much he had lost until months later. Angelina couldn't compare to you. He wasn't as ambitious and happy as he was with you. He was absent and lost..."

There was a loud silence after that and you felt as if you have to say something in return. "I didn't know you could preform such long speeches."

You heard shuffling on the other side and suddenly something soft landed on your stomach. "Owww!"

"Shut up, we're both poor right now." he said and you laughed , throwing the pillow back.

---

George was awake and walking. He was just getting suited for the wedding when Fred was tying his bowtie. He walked into the living room and saw your space empty. He looked around and tried to find any traces of your disappearance.

It wasn't until he heard a grunt from the bathroom and you walked out, pinning something into your hair. "Hey Ginny this bandage is so unnecessary-" you looked up and he was staring at you as you stared back. His hands were at the untied bowtie and yours were stucking a flower somewhere where your bandage was loose around your head.

"You remember Ginny?" he asked and you kept looking at him.

You let your hands fall down to your side and you took a few steps forward. "I do." you said and grabbed his tie and started to throw it around into a bowtie.

"Do you remember me?" he asked softly as he looked down at you but you kept your eyes on his bowtie.

You were silent for a while and started to twist it around to stay on its place. "I can do it better." you said and untied it again.

He smiled at that. "A perfectionist, you remember that." he said and he could see a smile on your lips. "Please, (y/n)..." he said and placed his hands on top of yours.

You finally looked up and found his eyes in such pain. You didn't think eyes so joyful could look that tormented. "I remember you Fred." you smiled softly, then looked back at the bowtie. "Just like I remember how to tie a perfect bowtie." you smiled and fixed it on his collar.

He breathed out a long breath of relief. He saw your hands leave his bowtie and he immedately started to fix your bandage and hair flower. "You're beautiful today." he said as he continued to tuck in the last peaces of the bandage before going to the flower. "You're beautiful every day."

You continued to look up, his slick and gentle hands touching your scalp and spreading warmth, even the memories you forgot existed. "I'm sorry." you said and he raised an eyebrow. "I always knew who you were..." you said and his hands dropped, still holding the flower that was supposed to go into your hair.

"You did?"

"I did." you said. "You were so close and you were just- and it really hurt- you really hurt me." you said, looking into his eyes, knowing yours were filling themselves with tears. "It was the first time I saw you so close after such a long time and everything came back- and it hurt so much I wished to forget you." you said, avoiding his gaze.

He didn't say anything. To be honest, he wasn't furious or in shock. "You could have done worse, really..." he gave an awkward smile and you laughed. He put his hand back up to your head and started placing it into your hair.

You only observed and as you did so, his hand fell to your cheek and brushed it with his thumb. The two of you were looking at each other, felt like a whole century since the two of you were looking at each other like this... and it felt like yesterday.

Time truly is an illusion, isn't it.

"Please, give me a second chance." he said, leaning his forehead onto yours.

"Fred..." you sighed.

"I know it's a lot to ask but please- I promise, I won't run away again like I did last time." he said, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "We're special. I know you know... I know we are... please..."

You smiled, closing your eyes and feeling all this warmth, safety and love over your body.

Hope.

There's nothing wrong with having hope.

There's nothing wrong with second chances.

You looked up at him. "Second chance then."

[ohnobrooo]

undestructible tinies... just imagine that

[neth-cactus]

very out of context stuff for an au i have for wxs (ruikasa/emunene centric), i need to draw them being nice to each other but for now have nene bullying a bit rui cus hes being very dumb about his decisions, i will explain stuff from the au under the cut jdshkfhsfls

ok so the provisonal name for the au is cronos and the poet, the whole deal is that rui is a mortal turned into a god, the god of time so uh yeah inmortal boy, nene is the same as well but shes more responsible about the job and just keeping stuff running smoothly. then some stuff happens and rui ends up falling in love with a mortal who sees time as a gentle thing and not as an undestructible thing, a poet, its tsukasa lol, and then he also meets more ahead her friend emu, whos a baker so yeah stuff happens

for now i have a card edit of rui and kasa i need to do emu and nene, but nene's card is "A Childhood Friend's Gaze" (curtain call) and emus is "feat. Cinnamoroll" (sanrio event)

so heres the two guys

and i also have two screen caps from 3dmvs i edited

lastly a tiny sleep deprived drabble

"How can you describe something so somber and tragic, with such beautiful words" The stranger questions from behind him.

Tsukasa turns around in surprise, he didn't thought someone would be around, let alone seeing him write

"AH! I'm so sorry! you scared me" he rushed out "Wait- did you see my poem?" the blond asks with an embarrassed tone covering with his hand the text in progress.

"Oh- Yeah i apologize... I was just curious when i saw you here" Rui apologized and adjusted his gloves "But my question still stands....how can you talk about the passage of time in such a caring way?" he continues with a solemn look on his eyes seeing the poet.

"Well!" the poet starts puffing up his chest proudly "I think the passing of time is such a beautiful thing, it brings peace to most and i just-" Tsukasa stops for a second and looks up at the sky "I wanted to thank the universe for this gift in any way i could" he finishes turning to look at Rui again.

"I'm......glad you think that of time.." Rui looks at Tsukasa's eyes looking for any hint of sarcasm but, there was none on sight.

Maybe this wasn't an awful fate after all...

im sorry if its weirdly formated, and i think thats all ummmm yeah sorry for the info dump im now running away into a cave :333

[upn-the-sky]

Give me God of War!! (Ares OOAK, Part 1)

okay, you know, how craft works.

One day you've just become attached to GOW with ropes and tears. Another day you've decided in your head that you can't breath without any figure from this game.

You probably buy Kratos action figure (as I did) and probably feel yourself satisfied because your money are safe now (as I thought too! I can't have armored Kratos on his olympic throne, cause I don't have a third kidney, sadly, so I was very pleased with a little god Kratos figure (Neca). After fixing up paint on his face, I look at him and think ohw, you are gorgeous :зззззз).

So, you are moving forward, replay or rewatch god of war games, especially the first games... you are fine.

UNTIL you decide that you are an adept, who stans GOW Ares. You fire up this dump and can't live your life without Ares doll. Idol. I-doll.

If you are me, then you can understand. As Ares said, flesh burns, bones breaks, but putting man into making a custom doll is what truly destroys him. So I hugged my family to increase my level of rage and started. Now you can go under the cut

Actually, I wouldn't do it, but there is no GOW Ares figures in this cruel world at all. Sadly! He is beautiful red-haired war baby, isn't he?

And I like his original design more than the one we have in Ascension. (Althought I like his non-armored outfit (red chiton) from Ascension concept arts, which wasn't used). Anyway, if we want to have our own god of war, we have one way to figure it out.

Personally I've seen only one Ares OOAK in the internet. It was at Neca Kratos base and it was kinda fine. There was completely re-sculpted head, but the body was without any changes. Kratos in his slut era (thank you tumblr, you are the best) was really scraggy, so Ares with his thin waist looked funny 😅.

Well, anyway, Ares wasn't a thin reed and loved to hunch over, so we need to be canon.

I would say, I am not an OOAKer at all, I've just customized my own ball-joined dolls a couple of times, and I say it straightly, making Ares bjd would be nice, but it probably turns out to an endless torture for me and my finances. So for the base I decided to chose 1/6 scale action figure. I needed to harvest a head and a body. It is going to be a re-sculpted hybrid anyway, so we can ignore color difference and stuff. Yes, I devoted my heart and aliexpress account to Ares 🥲

Whoever recognized the head donor actor, well done x) A bit of alcohol and nail cutter for the eyes (it's varnish was undestructible, holy shit..) will manually wipe out his personality forever, bye

Beautiful face. But totally needs to be reworked. Ares has unique face features like a round forehead, wide mouth, full upper lip and a bit potato, but still hellenic nose (isn't it precious? 💕). Honestly I think Santa Monica made him really pleasing and beautiful man in his mature ages. He is not old, but you feel that he is not young too already.

So I took out my Ares iconostasis, which allows me to absorb his beauty from all angles, and started a portrait sculpting.

It was a little hell, but after letting all changes dry, I sanded it and tinted head using airbrush so it will be able to match a body color. Quick matching test:

Nice?

As you can see, both body and head has a good tan skintone. And I know, Ares in GOW1 is as pale as Kratos.

Why am I not tinted him in ashy grey color? 1) It is night in a game, colors are faded because of it, 2) I tried and it looked messy, really... 3) I headcanon that both Ares and Kratos have the same reason for that: Ares is covered in ashes too. But Ares is not cursed, he is like.. always in contact with fire.

So I think that under this grey dust Ares has classic olive skin, same as Kratos. That's why I leave my Ares as if he was washed in a bath and get tidy like he is going to visit Aphrodite's chamber 💫. Anyway if I want to, I just can use photo filters to change it.

Okay, things become serious now.

We've finally reached to the face up.. And my working table lies in ruins and not usable anymore because of the fucking mess after previous steps.

God dammit on me and every single hair I drew in his eyebrows, but I have to say, it was really exciting to paint him. Finally give him his own gaze, brighten up his lips and cheeks. I didn't want to make him an angry bitch. Because he is not this person for me, neither in myths, nor in the game. He is a god, who lived through a lot of mortal lives and has seen a different kinds of.. chaos you know. OG Kratos is an infant compared to him I mean if you think of amount of past experience Ares has. Imho, he wasn't even truly angry at Kratos in GOW1. So I painted his expression how I feel and interpret his main emotional tone. Ares can be purely wrathful, but wrath is not cynical. That's what i think of him.

Okay, when the god became able to truly look after me, I couldn't hesistate and started to made the most iconic feature of him. His flaming hair and beard.

And I'll say it if you don't. I absolutely ❤ adore ❤ his red tousled mane ❤ .

(Just imagine Aphrodite tugging it or brushing, or just bury her face in his hair, because she knows that he will never burn her with his flames. I want to draw this now...)

I wanted his hair to be soft, easily combed and glowing without any electric lights. Gladly I've worked with a doll hair for a long time already.

Earlier I didn't cut off all of plastic hair from the head, only changed hairline by moving it a bit upper from his forehead. It was a part of the plan from the beginning. For the dolls I usually use very thin wool, and plastic mold will provide needed volume for his front combed strands. Screenshots before the eyes, two days of straggling (I wanted all hair to be removable without damaging varnish on his face) and we finally done.

And honestly I don't even want to shorten his hair. He is a perfection.

(Sorry for the empty juice bottle, I will set him on a body later)

Thank you for watching.

Skeletor will return soon with Part 2, where we will create his iconic armor. Well, I hope it will be soon. As soon as I have donors for a dog heads 🥲 He really loved Cerberus.

[space-blue]

Alien AU in which the Weyland-Yutani corp. is trying to source alien DNA not to fuck with humans but to craft the most undestructible, fully space adapted pet possible.

[dia-smthidk]

Hello your Majesty, I see another foolish anon decided to test their luck. If the execution involves Jeffrey, would you need weapons? Im pretty sure he is undestructible and unstopable, but who actually knows? If he cant finish the anon Maybe I got some Suggestions, for what you can do with the remains. (They are VERY gory)

I hope the execution goes well your higness

Call me if you want to hear my ideas (or if ya need any weapon)

my my, an offering for assistance?

I don’t think we’ll be needing any weapons for now, but if someone tries to intervene with the execution, then I may consider the gory ideas

[superboykevboy]

This is the real moment, the punch that leaves Superman laying down on the ground at their feet! A mechanic Glove punched Supes straight in the Abs! Driven deep into his guts, destroying his famous undestructable wall of sixpack muscles! Hurting so much, sending him flying backwards for hundred miles! Poor Supes will be out cold for a long time with destroyed abdominals!

[hebrewbyinbal]

Hebrew is as resilient and undestructable as the state of Israel.

Respect to all you Hebrew learners and Israel supporters out there.

We always come out the other side, with a clear conscience 💙🤍

[poisonedeel]

now that things have calmed down a bit i want to theorize again.

i still think that the codes are miss-programmed eggs, whether it be from the original 24 islanders or trial runs for the residents now, and tonight further cemented my idea.

the imposter eggs, while acting nothing like chayanne and tallulah, were still acting like kids in a way, out of control and very all over the place kids. tallulah shaking her maracas a LOT, running up and getting everyone’s attention, chayanne poking and prodding at phil like a kid bored at a fancy restaurant, and even saying to fit “he doesnt love me anymore” when philza said they werent his kids.

philza said a while back that he thinks the residents could be a way to placate the code(s), like they were toys for it. and of course theres his first battle with a code monster where he was able to bring up the birth certificate gui.

at the very least, i think the codes were/are literally rotten eggs. eggs that werent perfect; that were rude and wouldnt as easily captivated the residents into caring and risking their lives over. so they were deleted. but the code itself survived and is manifesting in anger and jealousy towards the eggs.

im still undecided where the federation stands with them though. i dont know if they just dont see the codes as a threat, legitimately just cannot see the codes because the eggs were deleted from their system, or if philza was right and theyve been trying to keep the codes happy and as undestructive as possible. fuck, they couldve even purposely corrupted an egg just to make a monster.

whatever the fuck is going on im INVESTED in it

[fundgruber]