#《 ° inbox 》 we just got a letter ! i wonder who its from ?

[shdwtouch]

🌵🍀🌹 @undyingmedium

time for some positivity || always accepting !!

send 🌵 and i'll recommend a canon rp blog

not this ask making me realize I don't follow a lot of canon blogs 😅 sasha on @burdenedbyeternity writes canon ( as well as original tbh ) characters I enjoy ! bucky from marvel, astarion from bg3, ezio and basim from assassins creed.

will also mention lucanis by malikai on @de11amorte and emmrich by nori on @necropolich, as well as jax on @fadedmisfits. I've greatly enjoyed seeing all of them post meta and discuss their muses, so worth a follow !

send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog

I'm not just recommending an original character with this, I am recommending a universe of characters and lore that I just. I eat it up, can't get enough. kt is so incredibly talented !! probably one of the only people I follow that I think has more passion for worldbuilding than I do, which is saying something. XD

@unse4ted @w4rhorse @swordma1den @0fconquest @cr0wguided @battlec4ster please forgive me if I missed a blog orz

send 🌹 and i'll recommend a blog that makes me happy

oh goodness. so many blogs make me happy, but I'm going to hope I get more of these asks so I won't just spam names... @frstwomn ! @murderyn ! @harpersoath ! @welcometoriddle ! @cripplemagics ! just to name a few ; w ; love seeing them on my dash, love their content, love their characters.

[feiiizhu]

⟡⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅|| ANON HAD THE AUDACITY TO ASK;; Anonymous asked: why doesnt ur oc have darker skin??

// okay wow, good morning to you too. Anon has been turned off because you guys can't play nicely. I don't know if you knew, but I LITERALLY JUST spent so much time redesigning my oc Rikka. I USED AN EYEDROPPER COLOUR SELECTION TOOL AND LOOKED AT COUNTLESS SCREENSHOTS FROM BOTH SHOWS, TO SELECT COLOURS FOR RIKKA. THAT IS LITERALLY A SKIN COLOUR FROM THE SHOW.

Also, in legend of korra, there ARE lighter skined waterbenders. And you know what, MY GREAT GRANDMOTHER WAS NATIVE AMERICAN. AND GUESS WHAT. I'M WHITE AS HELL. Guess how? ✨Genetics!!!!!! ✨ :D Not everyone in my family had a native american partner who they had kids with. So, through the power of how things work, the tanned skin faded out of my genetics. I still have the dark hair characteristics, and I'm only like....1/16th now or something. But like- I've done my research. like I said. I also literally used colours from both shows for my color selection???????? I also consulted heavily with my Native American mutuals about my redesign for Rikka and they said it was okay because skin colour is a spectrum and not everyone has the same pigments in their skin. Even people who are tanned, black, white, doesn't matter. Not everyone in the water.tribes have darker tanned skin. Rikka is still tan! She's just not heavily dark tan. I'm going to assume you were talking about my old redesign. I was basing it on L.ok, and yeah. there are lighter skinned waterbenders like Ta.hno for instance. People don't have a gripe with that????? At least from what I've seen????? That's where I got her skin colour from before. And I decided to change it a month or so ago. But if you are talking about my old redesign, please educate yourself and see that I have redone my oc with new colours and have talked with native americans. like- I don't mean to sound like a total dick. this just really irritates me. When I have talked with people while designing her and my own cultural background- as lacking as it is because my paternal family lost touch with it's roots. But this really ruined my vacation. YEAH. IM ON VACATION WITH MY FAMILY. and you had the audacity to send this. Anonymous has been turned off until you guys can play nicely. And if you have any further problems, please consult my friend @aworldofyou/ @spiderwarden. You ruined my weekend, anon.

[hegrowth]

🚩 🚩🚩TEA. SPILL. NOW.

send me a 🚩 and i'll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes. || accepting

oof ya'll we are in for it now. it's time... for puffin's hot take on softblocking. because yes I am and always will be salty about this shit, come fucking fight me and my anxiety-ridden existence.

firstly. I softblock inactive and archived blogs. I think that's chill. but I also always say I'm doing that, so in the event I accidentally softblock someone I didn't mean to and they check my blog like ??? they'll see that post and be like ah okay, it was a mistake.

now. for the love of fuck, why do people say they softblock when unfollowing folks in their rules but also state they do not want to be contacted if they unfollow you ? this is why I have anxiety. like, if you're gonna get offended every time someone messages you to make sure it wasn't an accident or glitch just block people.

and yeah, that is probably where 90% of my anxiety comes from, and why I struggle to reach out to people. because me, popping into someones DMs to make sure it wasn't a mistake gave them the ick and they decide to vague about me or block me anyway. grow the fuck up. and stop assuming the worst about people !

because you know what ? your self-righteous "ew don't talk to me after cutting you off" like tumblr isn't a glitching hellsite / mobile tumblr isn't an accidental thumb-swish away from deleting your blog is not friendly to your neurodivergent followers who struggle to understand situations and approach people.

because being disgusted by someone's genuine concern is shitty. if I come to you like, hey... it's because I noticed, and it mattered to me, and I managed to overcome the anxiety telling me everyone secretly hates me. you being rude about it isn't sexy, and it isn't cool. like, good for you. you're no longer being haunted by my lame ass.

listen. I understand that anxiety exists, obviously. but if that whole situation up top gives you anxiety then you should just block people. and also, if you are softblocking folks but aren't comfortable with them contacting you about it ??? copypastas bitch. a simple "hey, thanks for reaching out ! I did mean to softblock you, nothing personal, just please don't contact me anymore or follow me." goes a long fucking way, because if they then choose to keep pushing it ? you've set your boundaries, they're the asshole now, not you.

because the sentiment I see a lot is "I don't owe you an explanation" and I agree with that 10,000% !! do not come to me asking about why I blocked you or your friend or whatever else, I will not tell you, I do not have to tell you. but re: the copypasta I provided above ? no reasons, just facts. the only explanation you do owe someone is a clarification of the situation, aka setting your boundaries. no one needs to know why those boundaries are being set, in fact I fucking applaud you for setting them, but you do need to communicate that those boundaries are there.

SOFTBLOCKING ISNT ENFORCING A CLEAR BOUNDARY. softblocking is a petty ass way to rid yourself of someone. the metaphor I often see used is its the equivalent of scooping up a spider in your house on a piece of paper and putting it outside. I don't know about ya'll, but when I'm removing a critter from my home that I do not want in it I am actively talking to it and explaining the situation, even if it doesn't understand me, because I want it to know I mean it no harm and please don't come back. guys, no fucking joke, I wished a wasp a merry fucking christmas when I had to remove it from my house because I felt so bad my cat had been torturing it. wasps probably don't celebrate christmas !

point being, I communicate my boundaries to the spiders I'm taking out of my house like they're going to respect them. ya'll should do the fucking same. grow up. we all have anxiety. we all struggle to understand and accept certain social environments and interactions, especially online. we're all doing our best.

don't be a fucking asshole if you softblock someone and they want to make sure it was purposeful. in fact, don't be an asshole to anyone. there is no valid reason to be an asshole to anyone in the rpc, jfc.

also yes, if you softblock me I will block you, because I do not have the mental endurance to deal with the "they hate me" monologue spiraling through my silly little brain. because too many times I have experienced scorn and disgust and hate at being reached out to about softblocking and that has cemented in my brain, more than the anxiety it was a mistake. like just fucking block me, then.

so like. either don't softblock folks or grow up and communicate your boundaries, idk. and don't be an asshole, as previously stated.

this probably doesn't make any sense and has errors in logic / rationale but it's my anxious, frustrated ramblings so fuck it

final thoughts: please don't softblock me ! thanks

[hegrowings]

what drew me to your oc HONESTLY! i think you followed me first but the second i saw he was native i just FOLLOWED. Always a way to get me insta following. but i've stayed since because i adore our talks and i can't wait until we start writing!

believe it or not I've been following you off and on for... at least a couple years ? and spoken occasionally. but my constant moving blogs and periods of inactivity have had me coming back to your blog(s) when it crosses my dash.

but for serious, I care you so fucking much as an indigenous mun; while I grew up believing we were Apache [maternal] and my mom tried really hard to embrace native culture and support the community, she eventually found out she was adopted. I've just always felt really weird on that fringe of, I grew up learning about and loving indigenous culture, thinking it was somehow a part of myself (atually the reason kaey is native), and now, knowing it isn't, it just feels like appropriation. that's probably way too much information, but I just need you to understand how much I respect you and appreciation the information you provide. and I hope that I can live up to your expectations for representing your culture and people.

more than that. I may have already told you this - memory is shit, apologies - but I've also been like hhhhh cuz I feel weird saying it... our talks are literally the best fucking thing. I know when we were talking about Connor from AC3 you kept apologizing because you were so passionate about it but I want you to know that a) I fucking love your passion and b) it helps me as a writer better understand kaey and how he connects to his culture. so yes, I fucking adore our talks too and it's always equal parts exciting and anxiety inducing because I don't want to say the wrong thing.

just know I respect you so much and I love our talks and I am so thankful you exist and provide information just through speaking up about your culture and perspective and being willing to do that at all. and I'm also excited to start writing asdcfvg hopefully I will get around to that soon <3

@aworldofyou || What drew you to my OC? [accepting] // ask from the old blog

[lovedelayed]

tags : ooc

[shdwtouch]

send ✨ and i'll recommend a multimuse blog

time for some positivity! || accepting

okay but, I follow so many amazing multimuses. they are the true gems of the rpc, I have so much respect for folks that can run them ! and the fact that some people don't like them is like ?? wild to me. also, I don't know if I'll be able to tag all of the blogs I have in mind, cuz I'm gonna list quite a few !

@sorrowsick because I live for Elliots character lore and development like. my favs are Cross and Rosie, but lit all of his muses are top fucking notch ! @triinitas !! because bestie coded. ; w ; plus I love all three of Bunnies muses and their lore, like. and of course @bldrdsh cuz Joey is a gem and so is his worldbuilding and characters

and now for the quintessential multis: @storybounded & @starsweepers, @never-surrender, @peacereflected, @spiriitum, and @stravvberryhearts / @mostmagicals

@magicveiled & @fortunefavours get honorary mentions because they are the besties. even if you aren't super active anymore I still love + support you !!

and to reiterate, I follow SO MANY multis !! and they're all fucking fantastic, whether they are canon or original character based. I love + support all of you.

[feiiizhu]

⟡⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅|| WELCOME TO HALLOWEEN.TOWN;; verreprincesse asked: “See you in the afterlife!” *** Do not re.blog this post at all! or turn into a thread without asking first! ***

ㅤㅤ❝...𝓘 don't know if I'm supposed to take that as a threat, or something positive...❞ Whatever the case may be, the implication that both parties would no longer be living in the physical world, but seeing each other in the afterlife, she supposed that was the positive part. That there was a life after this one, that she would see people that she knew. But there was still some looming dread that came with it. ❝—Thanks though?❞

|| @verreprincesse

[hegrowth]

firstly, hi ! :D I don't think we've talked before, but that's okay ! glad to have ya; no time like now to get the ball rolling, right ? secondly...

are you kaey's type ? bingo sheet || accepting @thcmcnstcr

[hegrowings]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity

no u ; w ;

[sialiia]

⋆˚  ✧. ┊┊ SEND 💬 FOR A GENERATED STARTER;; bladedhunter asked: 💬 - any muse of mine, but DM me if you want me to pick! *** if you do turn into a thread please do so on a new post! ***

ㅤㅤ❝𝓨ou don't want to live in a society like this, yet you don't want to do anything about it!❞

|| @bladedhunter

[blueberrylovv]

pls read ik its long sorry but ćrę3p alert!!!

okay so basically these 4 acc are the same person, you might know them as the wàttpàd link person, they are going around rèpòrtìng people (if you got an anon 'reported' in your inbox that was them) especially if you side with me or høney or just criticise them or even engage with any of my responses to their asks (my bestie who literally only uses her acc to interact with me and doesn't post anything reblogged my answer to them yesterday and got anon 'rèpòrted' in her inbox like 3 minutes after that hmmmm i wonder who that was since she literally doesnt engage with anyone else but me and her acc is literally blank with just a few of my posts reblogged hmmm)

the list of the accounts I know of for easy copy and paste into search (just replace the first number in the name with the letter) if you cant search fro them there should be links to their posts in the comments, some ppl cant find them through search even tho they are not blóćkęd by them just heads up

l1ttlereader2024

m0lasseslasts

blu3b3rryl0v3sblgg3sttarg3t (used to be pr3ttyinpink2028 and then gymg0er4life and then 4ndanotherchange )

gr0tesquefreakkkk

they claim they are different ppl, they even 'talk' to each other in comments sections but some of the accounts are literally brand new and only follow/post about each other

the molasses one even has this rancid 'but I hate honey' line in the intro post, this is clearly just honey stälk1ng/hàr4ssmeņt account (honey got these two asks one after another)

it also seems that they are crosstagging across their blog? (on the reader acc) because some posts are tagged with the new jęlly tags but then others are tagged with i think the ręcóvry versions of the jęly tag? (not to mention they are also using hóneydet tag to promote their story)

I'm not telling you to bĺòck/rèpoŕt for me or honey (bc I'm pretty sure we got rèpòrtèd to he1l already lol I don't think there's any way to save our souls now) but literally bc they just jump people and spam repòrtŝ until the acc gets got - and just fyi we were cool until we rejected/ignored their fvckasś links - for someone who's so adamant about the fact that we are pro or whatever or just the satan himself you were quite persistent while begging us over and over again to make boards/dets/posts about the characters in your story so which one is it are we cool or are we the worst thing that happened to this side of the blr huh like you can't like us only when you need smth from us love you literally followed me like a stray dog here across all of my previous account you literally sent me the link to this acc back when it was still empty and intended as a bàckùp like

in conclusion this is stąłkęr behaviour, whenever me or honey błóck them suddenly a new acc that got made 10 minutes ago pops up and spams our inboxes and the only acc the new acc follows are these 4 i mentioned pls blóćk, pępórt and ręblóg so people can protect their blogs from this person whatever their end goal is

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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[chambersandfogg]

February 14th, 1931

Dear Charles,

A happy Valentine’s Day to you, my friend! I hope you’ll forgive the bit of kitsch enclosed, for I have no one else to whom I could possibly send a valentine without it being interpreted as some kind of serious overture. But when I saw this fellow, I simply had to share him. A peculiar card, isn’t it? Poor attempts at feline humor aside, the cat in question is somewhat off-putting, I’d say. Those mad eyes, sharp claws; the strange lack of front legs. And the text just adds to the threatening air. I got a real kick out of it and thought you might too. 

Did you make any plans for the evening? I am, of all things, going to the picture house to see the new “Dracula” film. Perhaps not the most romantic outing, but the chatter from the New York premiere is grand. And I will be accompanying a quite spectacular new actress whom I met just a few weeks ago. If I’m being entirely honest, I write “spectacular” not to describe her talent—she is certainly not the next Clara Bow—but her looks, which more than make up the difference. Perhaps you’ll find that terribly shallow, but I’m learning that the film industry relies heavily on its stars being rather nice to look at. After all, the audience is so much closer to them than they are to a performer on a stage. 

But the medium does have its other benefits—it is much easier to create a sense of illusion and wonder when you can manipulate the final product so completely. Not that I am looking to adapt my old act into a picture, but one does marvel at the possibilities. In any case, I’m looking forward to see what they do with the bizarre fruits of Bram Stoker’s imagination. 

Thank goodness we don’t have to drink blood to remain immortal. Dracula really did get the bad end of the deal. Then again, he was able to pass on his strange disease to others—though he did it quite badly. If we had that capability, would you take advantage of it? Would you create for yourself a forever valentine? The idea is tempting, though only Lord knows who it would be. It certainly won’t be this actress, fine as she is to gaze upon. 

I will write again to tell you of my thoughts about the film, by which point you may have seen it as well. I personally am in the habit of going to see pictures the day they come into theaters  and perhaps you are too. How would I know when you never tell me anything beyond the contents of your work? Though I suppose I can’t complain too much when you’ve secured the eminently capable Mister Weston, Esquire. Do let me know if he requires any further information from me to secure our entry into new life. 

I hope the mysterious work you’re doing in Washington is yielding the results you hope. I continue to enjoy the Western part of this country immensely and will remain here for some time, as,

Your friend,

John Fogg

[a letter received by C.X. Chambers, with the following card enclosed]

[to read the pre-1917 entries, join Atypical Artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes of Atypical's whole catalogue. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]

[archivus]

MAG[REDACTED] - The Divine and The Machine

Statement of Jeremy Creek regarding a series of strange emails and their sender. Original statement given November 29th 2024. Put to tape on Christmas Eve, 2024. Statement begins:

I'd like to believe I've always been a rational man and am aware that the standards I keep myself to shouldn't have allowed for this to happen. Quick backstory, I had to switch from therapist to therapist because talk therapy focusing on my feelings did nothing for my wellbeing. Rational isn't even the right word, I was overzealously justifying every thought that came into my mind. I never found love and I simply don't believe I even need it. When I tell you I simply had no concept of what it meant to be drawn to someone or something before this and how my brain just blanks when I try to figure out the rhyme or reason to it, you'll understand why I'm reporting on this. I'm quite skeptical still, have no doubt about it, but I've read that your whole institute was built on the supernatural and when that amount of money is involved I can't help but wonder if there's more to you than a glorified Santa's mailbox for the psychotic.

So... I finished my computer science degree two years ago. After spending months in deep depression saying I'm "making up for all the sleepless nights I spent studying" or just "cutting my sleep debt" I finally came across a job listing I was interested in... No, sorry, came across isn't the right word, I subscribed to email notifications for more companies than I could count but I kept discarding the mails because none of the offers seemed enticing. I also specifically turned off recommended content, yet somehow I got more listings from this one company than all the others combined. What's more, I clicked on their page and it didn't exist. Not a single post, not even a deleted account, the waybackmachine had no record of any previous activity under that link, but the emails kept pouring in. They never seemed to stop, not when I labeled them as spam, not when I muted them, seemingly the mastermind behind it avoided using keywords just so the emails would end up in my inbox again. Changing their email address little by little to get through my filters. I was getting tired of this... scammy business so I unsubscribed from the whole site, which was just another futile attempt on my part. My previous address pretty much unusable I tried making a new account, but the new address was also, well I wouldn't say flooded, rather slowly but surely filled up with the same types of messages.

Thanks to the avoidance of keywords the texts began to twist from clear and professional to almost a desperate cry, they lost their impersonal tone and I began to get a picture of who the author was, or rather what prompt it was using. I never for a second believed that there was a human sitting behind a desk somewhere writing me all these twisted letters inviting me to their company. I was at a point in my life where I would have sold my soul to be hired, but if that's what they required they could've sugarcoated their intentions for a bit longer.

This is when I told a friend of mine about these mails and it wasn't long before our combined curiosity got the best of us. We decided to just wing it, with no reply to the emails we went to see the address it supposedly came from. About an hour away from my house, I parked my car tucked away behind a few streets just in case they'd try to do anything weird with my license plate. The apartment complex was ran down, the windows were covered in a layer of dried dust and limestone, the tempered glass doors that once meant to give the house a modern feel and a sense of security had completely failed at their purpose, the handle was rusted and tilted loosely in its socket. The silicon seal has hardened, snapped in half and was hanging out from under the doorframe. It was a cold afternoon in late autumn, so I tried scraping away at the layers of dust with the glove coating my knuckles. As it got more clear I could see a few houseplants wilted and rotting in their cracked pots, clearly uncared for for a long time. "It was dead inside" - I thought to myself - "at least no one was going to jump us". I reached for the doorknob. The smell of dozens of cigarettes once smoked in that staircase hit me as soon as I opened the door. The creaking hinges gave both of us goosebumps, but we pushed on.

Few important things to mention here: I have experimented with urbex as a teenager, so I was prepared to take only pictures and leave only footprints, that's also to say I was familiar with the feeling of an abandoned building. I never even knew what "presence" ghosthunters were talking about. But there was a deeply unsettling feeling that shook me to my core as I walked up the stairs. The address in the emails lead us to apartment 44. That's the 4th floor and to the right.

Well, right off the bat there was something strange about it. The door was torn clean off, slanted against the wall next to its frame. The apartment radiated heat, I can not stress this enough, the weather outside was below freezing and in the corridor it was no different. That signature muted smell of warm plastic mixed with the warmth smacked us in the face, you'd recognize that air anywhere once you've been inside a server room. And once again, no one in sight. The warmth was more inviting than I'd like to admit and well, here comes the part I regret, I unzipped my jacket, headed inside and for some reason my friend didn't object either.

After passing by a ran down kitchen we got closer to the source of the heat. The smell started to numb our brains. I worked gigs in maintenance where I got up close and personal with molten plastic cable covers, but it never smelt this bad. Pushing the N95 into my nose I carried on deeper, something made me want to push on. My friend stayed behind in the kitchen. I walked through an empty doorframe then pushed open the door leading to the innermost room.

I can't describe it any better, what I saw was a shrine. A shrine alongside the author of those emails. A shrine with its deity, its brain and its beating heart all in one. A supercomputer spreading over the walls, filling the room. You'd think there is no way anyone besides Google would have something akin to this. Yet it was there, its cables in an organized chaos, branded into thick tentacles with cable ties. They flowed towards the core of the mechanism that seemed to be hanging from the ceiling. There was exactly one, standard sized monitor in the entire room and it was tucked away behind the door. This wasn't meant to be perceived through human senses, I could tell that much. This wasn't made for people to use. I witnessed the epiphany of machinery and I felt helpless, unable to comprehend it. Only when looking back do I feel the extreme temperature that must have been in that room, as standing right there I only felt adoration for *it* and nothing else.

The rest of the story is a blank unfortunately. I woke up in a hospital bed after sleeping a whole day with second degree burns over my legs, arms and hands. I can only guess I got too close to some burning hot wires in there. My friend came in after me when I didn't react to him calling out my name. Since that day I keep getting these intense visions of similar machinery, they keep appearing in my sight and I seem to completely dissociate. They're not solely about the one I saw either, makes me wonder if there's a whole system of these out there. I also started sleepwalking, which I've never done before. Makes healing all these burnmarks that much harder. I think that's all the relevant information I have for you. Do get back to me if you find anything.

Statement ends. There's a reason I'm recording such a recent case and on Christmas Eve, no less. Jeremy has been reported missing. Two days after giving us this statement he left his flat unlocked and his family found no trace of him since. Notably, his PC has been ripped to pieces. Shallow clues, I'm aware, but the Extinction works in mysterious ways, we need all the data we can get.

Another thing to add, our institute rarely engages with the police, but for an ongoing investigation I can't help but provide the relevant information at our disposal. The details given here are vague and I haven't personally contacted the family yet to be able to see things for myself. As much as I don't like this, we are reliant on what the law enforcement is willing to share with us. But if the Extinction took roots inside Budapest we'll soon have bigger issues at hand than some tech savvy guy joining a cult. Recording ends.

Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays and an amazing New Year! And thank you for sticking with me through my hiatus. I would like to make this the actual formal announcement that I'm no longer that active in The Magnus Archives fandom, but whenever I get the inspiration I will write and occasionally post statements. My AMA is still open for ideas, my long term goal is to actually write a statement for every entity. Ahh, Extinction my beloved.

If you enjoyed you can find the rest of my works here: The Flesh The Vast The Stranger The Dark The Lonely

And here: #magredacted

[caledfwlchthat]

💖 🤲

WHY HELLO MUTUAL IN MY INBOX, it is actually nice to receive things, but only now do I seem to find enough executive function to pull together a response. (tomorrow I start writing my first holiday letter to friends in like a decade, I'm not even kidding)

💖 What made you start writing?

hmm. Do I rules-lawyer this? How far back do I go. Because I've been writing expressively in one way or another very nearly since I could hold a pen. Motivations probably ranged from exploring early interests (wildlife, aerial battles) to sci-fi/fantasy OCs to collaborative post-by-post silliness of the kind we see here on Tumblr all the time. Plays, poetry, fiction. Attempts at more serious blogs. I am all about the mad wordz. You could stop doors with printouts of my emails to friends.

What made me start writing fanfic was that when Homestuck -- maybe not the first media of which I could say I was a fan, but the first for which I considered myself belonging to a fandom -- ended in 2016, I saw immediately that the main source of material for my voice acting blog (entitled, as you can see, "One Man Homestuck") had reached its limits. I had at best lukewarm ambitions for a truly solo dub of the entirety of Homestuck, and I found it hard to gel with several VA collaborations to that point. These days, of course, I could always just offer to podfic my lovely mutuals' fics...

Anyway, so Homestuck had [S] ACT 7 go up in April 2016. While I was wondering what to do with myself after that, I saw a post go up about the Ladystuck Remix Challenge 2016 -- my first encounter with a fic exchange. I liked the premise of using someone else's fic as a prompt, as an amusing exercise in constrained form. So I got myself an AO3 account, threw up two short VA intro scripts I had written for Jade and Terezi as qualifying works, and then wrote How Your Other Quarter Double-Dies -- which I can't say was what I had been expecting to write, but which ended up being stacks of fun. For extra credit I did The Cafe Mocha Caper which was a stretch for my powers at the time but I can at least say it was ambitious!

And then the rest has been history. My still-in-progress longfic Rose: Remember has been going from around the same time, and while I enjoyed Ladystuck it's this fic that seems to be my big Homestuck legacy. <kermit-flail waves to @laurasauras, @katreal-fic, @hussianphilosopher>

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Sure, uh! Lessee. <rummages around in the back stockroom>

Oh man! I had forgotten about this one completely -- so maybe to say it's "in progress" is a bit much, but I like the concept. Premise is a peek into the kinder, gentler dreams of some of the Friendsim trolls which, unfortunately for them, are no more than that. A sampler:

"Now, you may remember that last week," Ardata intones for the grubcam's benefit, "Mashya and I brought this poor abandoned lopwing in from the sun's searing heat. We found him half-culled in the dumpster behind our hive, his ribs kicked in and a wing slashed. And it annoys me greatly to think someone, anyone, would have done this anywhere even near here." She crouches down to join her charge in the cam's frame. "How could they! This precious boy! Who knows whose lusus he could have been!" Throughout her patter, Ardata feels the palmhusk in her trouser pocket shudder with the stochastic rhythm of Chittr notifications. She'll have to take a few of those later, since they're streaming live and the chance for her viewers to interact with the rescue beasts is part of the maverick appeal of her channel. There are still a few haters who still preferred the old times when the den was a dungeon, when the floor was slick with blood, when you could smell the suffering hanging in the dank air even through the remote link. Most of them are ignored, while a few persistent hecklers are derided or quickly shouted down. She's not quite as popular as she once was, but her new brand has a persistent counterculture staying power she would never have guessed at before Mashya arrived. Ardata purses her lips to mimic the lopwing's squeaking call, and the wounded animal hops over to close the few feet of remaining distance. Her rustblood assistant silently zooms the grubcam's view in as she gently pulls one iridescent wing open. The lopwing flinches and its eyes widen, but it allows examination of its wing's torn surface -- a helpful touch from another waiting aide. She knows she couldn't do this without him, even if she can't formally acknowledge his contribution. The wing is still a mess, the ragged edges of the membrane still crudely stitched together with silk thread. But by turning it into the light, she can see that the nearby elements have begun to revascularize, which may in time knit up the great scarred slash. She points this progress out to her fans. In another three weeks, the lopwing might be able to take short flights again; a week after that, perhaps it will finally be able to outrun the predating barkbeasts and cholerbears, and can be safely released. Ardata's palmhusk buzzes again and she fishes it out, throwing her hair over her far shoulder with an artfully careless toss of her head. "Anything you'd like to tell our little guest? Let's see." She frowns, seeing no text immediately apparent in the comment box. A quick double-tap highlights what was written: What exquisite cruelty. How, exactly, will this once-wild animal last more than fifteen seconds out in nature again? Your ministrations, and those of your misguided partner in crime, have rendered it unable to survive outside; you have merely drawn out its demise. And finishing: You sick, sick monster. I approve.

[feiiizhu]

⟡⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅|| FREE HUGS! Anonymous asked: ♡ - baatarjr *awkwardly patting her back* *** please do not reblog and/or turn into a thread without asking first! ***

ㅤㅤ❝𝓦ould it kill you to smile while you hugged your little sister?❞ Opal scolded her brother, of course she meaned it in a joking manner, her voice covered in sarcasm.

@baatarjr