#( mun stuff. ) OLIVE THINGS.

[splashingotterz]

WELCOME TO OLIVE’S SILLY ASK CORNER!!

Terms of Service

🐚 FIRST THINGS FIRST. DNI IF: You’re a Racist, Zoophile, Pedophile, Proshipper, Homophobic or against any LGBT+, or Support/neutral towards Isnotreal. Get out.

🐚 Please keep in mind that this is a parody/rp + triples as ask blog type thing, so keep in mind that things here are headcanons or opinions of what could be in-character info as answers (but some of the stuff will be based off of info that’s canon, too!) This is just for fun at the end of the day!

🐚 THAT also being said, also keep in mind that there’s only one person behind this blog, so don’t go too far with asks (I.e anything sexual, overly hateful, political for whatever reason why you’d even want to ask about that stuff, etc.) and if you feel like anything might be too far with what you wanna ask, just don’t ask it or think on it more.

🐚 You can also interact with her physically or give her items, but don’t go too far with it.

How Do I ask?

🐚 Very easy! Theres a button that should say “Ask Stuff Here!” On the Blog’s Profile! Just click on it and type whatever you’d like to say!

Extra Information

🐚 Any ooc posts will be portrayed with [🐚] or just the emoji on its own! Mun is able to differentiate from ic + ooc with this and answer any possible questions you have for them, too!!

🐚 This Olive is mostly based off of How the games meant to be played/2023, but you CAN ask about 1997, or just people she knows! Personally, just pick your poison.

🐚 Other sw64 parodies or parodies on other verses are also free to interact (if there are EVEN ANY OTHER SW ACCS OUT THERE but just incase!!!)

[mangosundae]

Hi. Little bit of backstory. About a year ago, I started writing a fic about my ni no kuni oc. 20,000 words in I decided the whole thing was dog shit and abandoned it. BUT I’m a better writer now, and I still like the story, so I’m rewriting it. Anyway, I present to you my ni no kuni oc fanfic. Title TBD because I can’t think of anything. OH ALSO I eventually plan on making an ao3 account and posting it there so I don’t clog up tumblr’s nnk tag, lol.

(Read to the end to see a silly drawing I made for this chapter!)

Chapter One: Hurry, and Flurry, and Worry (7,745 words)

Summary: Something is very wrong in the other world.

Returning to Motorville was far less relaxing than Oliver had expected it to be.

He hadn’t been expecting a cakewalk, mind. He wasn’t so naive as all that. But amidst his imaginings of learning to cook his own food (could it really be much different from alchemy?) and taking on more shifts with Miss Leila, he never accounted for the sheer amount of paperwork he’d be expected to deal with.

The day Oliver came home, he found a spotless lawn, courtesy of that sweet old woman down the block, and about a million stacks of paper shoved into his mailbox, courtesy of countless government middlemen who didn’t care a whit about an orphaned boy from Motorville. Also so much junk mail that at some point the poor mailman started folding them into origami hats.

Oliver and Mr. Drippy had had a helluva time, as Mr. Drippy would say, lugging the pounds of paper into the house. The junk mail was stowed away for kindling — save for a few hats, which Mr. Drippy insisted really showed off his figure — but they set aside the important stuff to be sorted through. Bills on the left, tax notices on the right, foreclosure warnings in the middle. Even after organizing them, the stacks reached Oliver’s knees. It was a miracle he still had the house at all.

(He would later learn that the house had, in fact, been in danger of foreclosure before his return, but the townsfolk had banded together to convince the government to ease off. When Oliver discovered this, he would go up to every person in town and give them the tightest possible hug.)

But foreclosure was the least of his worries. Tax season was right around the corner, all of his utilities had been shut off, and, lest he forget, he was only thirteen years old. Legally, he couldn’t live on his own — he certainly couldn’t pay his own taxes. He didn’t suppose they’d accept payment in guilders?

Mr. Drippy was no help, either. For all his boastings of being Lord High Lord of the Fairies, whatever that meant, the little man knew next to nothing about the legal world. He could be counted on to help with math homework, and that was about it. When asked what a W2 was, he could only reply, “Beats me, mun!” with a suggestion to check his Wizard’s Companion.

Of course, Oliver was no stupid child. He knew that if he asked one of the adults around town — Miss Leila, or Myrtle’s parents, or even Phil’s — they would help him without a second thought. He knew how lucky he was to be surrounded by such kind people. The problem was, if he asked any of them, they’d bring it up again: taking him in. Yes, after he came home and sorted through his mail, half the legal adults in Motorville stopped by, adoption papers in hand. He’d just shot them wan smiles and politely shooed them away.

Part of Oliver wanted to give in to temptation and agree, but the rest of him was too afraid. He knew what would happen to him if he said yes. He would move in with someone else, lose the house, and in so doing lose one of his last remaining connections to his mother. He couldn’t stomach the thought of another family living here, cooking on his stove, sleeping in the room where his mother passed away. How would she feel knowing her son was so weak as to abandon the home she’d given him? He doubted his neighbors understood the cruelty tucked within their good-hearted invitations, but it was there nonetheless. So Oliver spent his mornings at work, his days at school, his afternoons at work, and his nights toiling over papers, trying to see if a thirteen year old could emancipate himself.

This routine came at a price; children weren’t supposed to have adult schedules, and even most adults didn’t have schedules quite as hectic as his. So when Oliver slept, he slept hard, his best friend snuggled to his chest. His favorite days were Saturdays, where he could sleep in as long as he wanted. . .

. . . Except when Mr. Drippy slapped him in the face.

Now, it’s important to remember that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence in Oliver’s house. Drippy was a fairy with a lot of needs, and a big mouth. If Oliver was hugging him too tight, or he wanted a midnight snack, or even if his lantern needed shining, he would make his discomfort known. He did try to lay off on the weekends though, knowing his boy needed some well-deserved rest. It was for this reason that, at the feeling of a tiny hand slapping cheeks still chubby with youth, Oliver jolted straight up in bed and retrieved his wand from under his pillow.

“Fireball!” he shouted by second nature. Thankfully, in his sleep-fogged state, the spell came out as a single ember, which fizzled into his mattress and disappeared.

“Tell us how you really feel, eh?” Mr. Drippy quipped under his breath. He scooted down Oliver’s chest and landed by his feet with a plop. “You’ll need those reflexes soon, though, I’ll bet.”

Before Oliver sprang into action and sacrificed one of his few hours of rest, Oliver had to make sure this was an actual emergency. Mr. Drippy could have been annoyed by his snoring again, for all he knew. So, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he asked, “What’s the matter, Mr. Drippy?”

“Trouble! In the other world!”

Oliver jumped up so fast he knocked Mr. Drippy clear off the bed. As the fairy hopped back onto the mattress with a grumble, the comforter Oliver had sprung from fell down and covered him like a sheet ghost.

“Oi!” shouted a muffled Mr. Drippy, attempting to free himself from the blanket prison.

“Sorry.” Oliver removed the comforter and laid it flat on the bed. He hurriedly threw on the adventuring outfit he’d gotten from the Hootenanny so long ago. “What kind of trouble?”

After the battle against Cassiopeia, the royals of the other world became aware of Mr. Drippy’s psychic connection with Smiley and Surly. Oliver and his friends had stressed the seriousness of such an ability, but their warnings went in one royal ear and out the other. Oliver would occasionally be summoned back to the other world for an emergency, only to discover King Tom had simply missed him, or the Cowlipha had invited him to brunch. So it was always good to check.

“The weird kind, mun,” Mr. Drippy replied, handing Oliver his shoes. “The boys at home say it’s gone proper strange, like someone’s taken it apart and put it back together wrong.”

Oliver’s heart plummeted. Another villain? Surely at some point they had to stop. And yet, as his dark-ringed eyes imagined yet another foe with a misguided passion for world domination, he found himself excited. In Motorville, he struggled. He was an ordinary boy who knew nothing about the US tax system, and could do nothing to live up to his late mother’s wishes. But in the other world, he could be strong. He could prove his independence, be the hero she wanted him to be. The thought thrilled him. Gripping Astra in his fist, he held his hand over the fluttering pages of the Wizard’s Companion.

“Gateway!”

In the light of the dying fire, Esther wiped at her latest wounds with a wet cloth. Blood, already beginning to crust over, smeared away and left pale red stains as the only proof of its existence. She wrung out the wipe and dunked it in a bowl of water. Gogo cooed gratefully beside her as his own wounds disappeared. Esther smiled and raised a finger to her lips.

“We have to keep quiet, remember?”

Her father’s heavy snores punctuated her words. Though he sat upright with a hand around his staff, he was fast asleep. Sage training, or something. He’d gone to sleep a few hours ago, leaving Esther to keep watch until the sun breached Old Smoky’s peak. Not that there were many familiars around to bother them. Most around this area ran in fear at their approach. Guiltily, Esther was proud of that.

Esther was used to familiars running in fear, of course. With a Great Sage for a father, every father-daughter outing beyond the walls of Al Mamoon involved Green Bunchers and Turbandits tripping over themselves to get away from the great Rashaad. As a little girl, Esther giggled at the way they ran — though her heart always spiked with jealousy, knowing none of them were afraid of her. But now mere eye contact with a Sunshine caused it to spin away in fright. It was difficult to remember when surrounded by such powerful friends, but her adventures with Oliver had made her stronger.

Truly, the fact she was keeping watch at all was proof of her new strength. Her father would never have trusted her younger self with such a task. Any aforementioned childhood outings through the desert required them to move fast, or for her father to stay up all night to keep them safe. Esther always hated how helpless she felt, falling asleep and knowing she couldn’t protect her father the way he protected her. She hated feeling useless. The day Oliver cured her broken heart, Esther decided she would never be useless ever again.

That was why they were in the desert now, after all. They planned to eventually enter themselves in the Solusseum as a duo, which gave Esther the excuse to drag her father into the wilderness for a few days. They had to train, of course, to be ready for the competition. But really, the Solusseum was the furthest thing from Esther’s mind. Yes, the thought of fighting alongside her father as a team thrilled her, but really, she just wanted an opportunity to prove herself to him.

Esther’s father was a Great Sage. Esther’s father fought in wars, commanded his staff like a third limb, held the respect of the cantankerous Solomon himself. People bowed to him in the streets. Esther was the daughter of a Great Sage. When strangers came to her, that was what they mentioned first — not that she’d helped save the world twice over, or played the clarion that brought peace to the land. She would always, in everyone’s eyes, be her father’s daughter first and herself second. Her father tried to remind her of her own talents, but even encouraging her he’d always say, “You are my daughter.”

Esther was more than a daughter. She knew this, and yet it was so hard to be a person around her father. Every time they traveled together, she found herself deferring to him like a much younger girl. His presence was so imposing; she couldn’t help but feel like just Esther, despite her accomplishments.

So she’d dragged them both out to the desert under the pretense of sparring, in the hopes of showing them both who Esther really was. Her father had his spells, yes, but Esther was a songstress and a familiar tamer. She wielded her harp the way he wielded his staff. She could harm or heal with the stroke of a string. And though he could control familiars, as all Great Sages were expected to do, Esther’s mastery over them was unmatched. There was a reason serenading was her task alone; she understood the hearts of creatures in a way others couldn’t. Anyone could fight with a familiar, but Esther became them, minds and goals aligning to win the fight. Esther knew she was strong beyond her father’s influence. Under the glittering stars of the desert, she would make him see.

She cast her gaze to her sleeping father. She never saw him so peaceful while awake, even after saving the world. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he would only ever reply that he had to stay vigilant. Though, watching the way his head turned at any sound, any conflict, Esther knew he feared the rise of another Shadar. He was an old man who’d known far less peace than Esther — had seen more bloodshed, too. Perhaps that was why he was too distracted to notice Esther’s inner turmoil.

She didn’t blame her father, of course. He had his own problems to work through. But she wished she could explain her feelings to him without the words getting trapped in her throat. The one time she’d tried, he misunderstood her, and only reassured her of her strength. Her insecurity ran deeper than that; she just didn’t know how to explain it to him.

But her musings would have to wait. There was a boom that shook the sand beneath her feet, then the sky in the distance exploded with color. Plumes of purple and blue obscured the stars and blended together like the hazy aftermath of fireworks. Yet there was no need for fireworks right now, especially in the dead of night. Then the colors streamed downward and evaporated — gone, just like that.

Esther looked to her father, who was already on his feet and wearing a grave expression. “That was near Castaway Cove!” she told him.

No more words needed to be exchanged. Fire abandoned, they rushed in the direction of Castaway Cove. Thankfully, they hadn’t been too far away — nor did they need to get very close to see the extent of the destruction.

“Oh!” Esther could only gasp, hands over her mouth, at the sight. Castaway Cove had been transformed beyond recognition. A giant dome of water encapsulated what was once the fishing village, its murkiness obscuring what lay within. Closer to the edge of the dome, Esther realized that most of the houses were turned upside down or flipped inside out. Some had been rearranged entirely, and now formed walls and strange shapes wherever Esther looked. The bridge that once spanned the village swirled around the enclosure like a water slide. Monstrous shadows prowled in the depths.

Esther and her father locked eyes. Her father rushed back to Al Mamoon, while Esther summoned Tengri with a blow of his horn. She leapt onto the screeching wyvern’s back and guided him towards Hamelin, her friends’ unofficial meeting place. Hopefully Swaine and Marcassin were already there — it seemed they had to save the world once again.

Even under the thick layers of his woolen jacket, Swaine shivered. He walked with a hunch, hands pressed to his chest for warmth, eyes half-shut in the blistering wind. His crystallized breath stood out starkly against the inky black sky. The only sound for miles was his chattering teeth and the crunching of snow beneath his booted feet.

No one and nothing could ever convince Swaine to like the Winter Isles: not the beautiful, glittering caverns, nor the kind and inviting native Tomte, nor even the local cuisine. Swaine had grown up in Hamelin, where the hot steam of the buildings overhead seeped into one’s clothes and the folds of one’s skin. With no weather inside the kingdom’s armored walls, there was no fresh air to ease the heat of the ever-present steam and smoke. Citizens of Hamelin grew used to such temperatures with age; they had to to wear the sturdy and practical outfits that defined Hamelin’s fashion. When Swaine moved to the Summerlands, he had no trouble adjusting to the similarly hot weather of Al Mamoon and Castaway Cove. Others had to wear loose or revealing clothing to get by, but Swaine wore a jacket, pants, and high socks without breaking a sweat. Yet nothing in his life had prepared him for how damn cold the Winter Isles were.

If it was up to him, Swaine would have been back at the palace, tucked away in his big plush bed, drowning in feather-stuffed pillows while he sipped his hot cocoa. Fireplace ablaze, he’d listen to the sounds of popping embers and the hum of the palace walls until he drifted to sleep. He’d be able to feel his bloody toes, at least. But Swaine was a good brother. So when Marcassin burst into his bedroom a few days ago, ranting and raving about his new pet project as Hamelin’s leader, Swaine packed up his winter clothes and set a course for Yule.

Still, if Swaine had to trek through the coldest continent in their world — at midnight, of all things — he thought he was well within his rights to complain. Surely Marcassin could have made the trip himself if he wanted to talk to Purrofessor Tabitha so badly. Perhaps he forgot that only one of the brothers could teleport, and he was currently toasty warm somewhere in Perdida.

Swaine bit his cheek to stop his teeth from chattering. Complain as he might, he wasn’t out here for no reason. He hadn’t caught the whole thing (Marcassin had the remarkable ability to speak faster than the speed of sound when excited), but in summary, his brother wanted to build a museum of the magical arts. To do so, he needed the assistance of Tabitha and Queen Khulan. Marcassin had already scheduled a meeting with Khulan, which left Swaine to talk to Tabitha. And since the grimalkin had a horrendous sleep schedule, he was out here at sweet buggering midnight.

Much as he complained, though, Swaine knew he couldn’t have refused this task if he tried. That would mean saying no to Marcassin, which any more he was physically incapable of doing. He’d been this way as a kid, too. One of the first to hold his infant younger brother in his arms, the boy had him wrapped around his finger since he’d literally wrapped his pudgy baby fingers around Swaine’s thumb. As children, Marcassin need have only batted his big greens and Swaine came a running. Their father told him off for this many times, insisting the future Hamelin emperor needed to learn some independence, but how could anyone want to let the boy down? Plus, Marcassin was one of the few people in Swaine’s early days who made him feel useful.

Around the palace, Swaine didn’t have much to offer. He was a mediocre marksman surrounded by world-renowned weaponsmiths. While he tinkered with his scrappy little pistols, warheads clustered in his basement to design the next far-range cannon or armored tank. He had no magic to speak of, a black mark in a kingdom where combining the magical and mechanical was key. And no emperor in his right mind would seek the advice of a barely teenager, so it wasn’t often that his father needed him for anything at all. Even the palace staff had their routines worked out down to a science. Young Swaine would have had nothing of use to do with himself — was he not the regular babysitter of his baby brother.

In theory, the young princes were placed in the capable hands of one Miss Portia, the governess of the palace. The ruddy-skinned woman, her uniform hiding strong arms that were often used to wrangle up the brothers, was in charge of their upbringing and education when their father was unavailable. She had every minute of their daily routines scheduled, down to the allotted time they had to brush their teeth. It was through these rigorous schedules that she intended to make good men of her charges and keep them out of trouble. But Miss Portia did have off hours after all, and as Swaine grew older she didn’t see a need to micromanage so much, and so it was that Swaine came to spend his free time watching Marcassin.

Most older siblings would balk at such a task. Of course, most siblings probably had other people they cared about, and who cared about them in return. Swaine had only Marcassin. He watched his brother not with a grudge, but with a sense of pride for finally being useful. He enjoyed his role as protector, and, yes, spoiled the boy whenever possible. He wasn’t Gascon, his father’s worthless lout of a son; he was Gascon, guardian of the future emperor of Hamelin. He felt a sense of gratitude to his brother — loyalty, like a knight pledges servitude to a king — for giving him purpose.

He’d . . . Forgotten that purpose, in later years. Spurred on by the desire to prove himself to his father, his country, Swaine ignored the role he played in his brother’s life. He was too blinded by Marcassin’s power to remember he was still just a child. Swaine would always regret leaving him, especially knowing now how the rest of that night played out.

They’d spent so much time apart after that. For Swaine, his return to the present lasted mere moments, but for Marcassin it was an entire lifetime. The kid barely knew him now, and at that knew him mostly as the brother who left when things were tough and came back when it was too late. He could say he forgave Swaine, but it didn’t count, and it wouldn’t count until Swaine could prove he was a brother worth forgiving. In the grand scheme of things, wading through knee-deep snow at midnight was the least he could do.

Finally, the wind and snow gave way enough that Swaine could see beyond his nose, and he found the entrance to Yule in the near distance. His shoulders sagged with relief. Beyond those icy walls was the warm bed he’d been practically salivating over since he arrived at the Winter Isles. He’d have his meeting with Tabitha — in an insulated building, no less! — and then go trotting off for a well-deserved nap at the Cat’s Cradle. And yet, without so much wind and snow in his face, he noticed something alarming about the place.

For one thing, the icy spikes that had erupted from the ground and surrounded Yule like a cage certainly weren’t there on his last visit. For another, the entire town, save for the walls of ice blocks surrounding it, seemed to have vanished.

Swaine managed to unstick his feet from the snow long enough to rush over to where the village once stood. He squeezed through the icy stalagmites to peer out into the trees beyond Yule — then down, down, down into the spiraling chasm that had formed. The buildings were frozen against the walls, forming slippery platforms of sorts. It was as though the village had collapsed on itself. Stranger yet were the creatures that roamed this new chasm: massive, white-furred monsters that prowled the perimeters and concerningly resembled Yule’s normally peaceful Tomte inhabitants.

Swaine stepped back before any of the creatures could spot him. His heart pounded. If these monsters truly were the Tomte . . . Was this another manna situation? Instinctively, he covered his nose with his sleeve. Then he thought of Marcassin, miles and miles away. If this was another manna situation, he hoped it hadn’t reached Autumnia yet. He ran faster than he’d ever done in his life and steered the Sea Cow back to Hamelin.

Outside the thin walls of the Cat’s Cradle, merchants pulled their wagons, wooden wheels going clunk-a-clunk over the aging stone paths. No doubt they were nearly empty after a hard day’s work. It was dusk now; time for the merchants to close up shop, the farmers to put their livestock to bed, and for Marcassin to get some well-earned rest.

It had been a fruitful day, all in all. He’d arrived early in the morning, greeted by Queen Khulan and a slew of villagers, who invited him to breakfast inside the meeting hall. After the war, Khulan explained over a plate of chilaquiles, she and the citizens of Perdida made great strides to rebuild the village, which had fallen into disarray during the queen’s period of brokenhearted-ness. The meeting hall, and many other rooms within what used to be Khulan’s ceremony chamber, were victims of her loss of love; now, slowly but surely, they were being restored to better serve the village and its people. Kublai helped when he could, but he and his crew were often busy with a reconstruction project of their own. They’d tasked themselves with helping people all over the land recover from Shadar’s reign and Cassiopeia’s attacks.

After a hearty and delicious breakfast of salsa and fried eggs, Marcassin and Khulan retreated to her inner chamber to discuss Marcassin’s plan. He relayed to her, with no small amount of enthusiasm and with an abundance of detail, his idea for opening a magical history museum to the public. It was a simple plan. He would build a museum in the heart of Hamelin’s entertainment district, an area that had received little attention from the Hamelin government until now. The museum would promote the preservation of all things magical: wands, spells, gems and artifacts, even weapons and armor imbued with magical properties. Marcassin would use the archives of each kingdom to craft a timeline of magic’s history in their world; its discovery, the progress it aided in, and its cultural impact all over the globe. His goal in making such a place was to give magical teachings back to the world, and to hopefully foster a renaissance of the magical arts.

Khulan hung onto his every word. She was especially enthralled by his promise to teach about the pieces of heart — their purposes, the harm missing a piece of one’s heart could cause, and how to spot brokenhearted-ness in oneself and others. Both sages agreed that neither they nor anyone else would experience the pain of a broken heart ever again. And so, Khulan required next to no convincing to aid Marcassin in his endeavors. She even had suggestions of her own, such as holding regular classes to teach spell casting and other forms of magic. Marcassin would see about enlisting Oliver and Esther’s help in these lessons.

They spent the rest of the afternoon poring over documents from Perdida’s archives, and what historical documents Khulan had managed to salvage from Xanadu. Marcassin was of course ecstatic to learn more about Xanadu, a place he’d only briefly visited with his father as a child, and was intrigued to discover that Perdida had a full history of its own. The pair sorted through each document in turn, deciding where in the museum each piece would go before setting it aside. Certain objects, like chunks of rock from the island that held Xanadu aloft, were best kept in their authentic forms, though many documents could be duplicated to better preserve the originals. By the time they’d made a decent dent in their work, the sun was setting. Khulan gave Marcassin a free room at the Cat’s Cradle, apologetically explaining that her chambers were currently unfit for hosting guests.

This returns us to the present. Marcassin twisted and turned in the plush bed so kindly given to him by the queen. After such a long but productive day, Marcassin wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, but his mind was abuzz with activity. Already he was making long-term goals for his project: improving relations with the other kingdoms, engaging his scholarly side like he hadn’t since he was a boy, encouraging even a casual interest in magic in the general public. He needed this to be a success. He, Marcassin, Prince of Hamelin, would be known for something grander than making ridiculous decrees and playing a small role in helping the Pure-Hearted One. He would finally be a ruler worthy of respect.

Gascon had always been the more capable of the brothers. More courageous, quick-witted, and independent than Marcassin could ever dream of being, his brother truly embodied the Hamelin way. As children, it was always Gascon leading the way, and Marcassin following behind. Gascon taking charge and Marcassin meekly supporting. When his brother left, and his father passing shortly thereafter, Marcassin confronted the fact that he just wasn’t meant to rule. He wasn’t meant to — nor did he have any interest in — commandeering battalions or constructing new machines meant for destruction, tasks which his brother and father would have no trouble doing. His only claim to the throne was the magical genes he had no control over. He thus found himself relieved when Gascon returned and took on the roles that Marcassin couldn’t handle.

And yet, was it not pathetic that the Prince needed his brother’s assistance for such simple duties? Shouldn’t a man of his standing be able to fulfill his role alone? Marcassin often worried that he’d lost the trust of his people, going from an emotional coward to being overly reliant on his older brother. He feared that his time with a broken heart had forever sullied his reputation; he would never be anything but the prince who shouldn’t have been. This was why his museum was so important. Finally, he had a chance to prove his worth as Prince — both to his people, and to Gascon.

It was Gascon, more than anyone, whose approval Marcassin sought. After all, Swaine was a force to be reckoned with. He’d done more good for Hamelin and the world in a year than Marcassin had done during his entire tenure as Prince. One might argue that Marcassin couldn’t hold himself to the same standard as his brother due to his broken heart, but Gascon had been brokenhearted too. Their dichotomy was the same as ever, regardless of circumstance: Gascon the do-er, and Marcassin the sniveling coward.

He thought of Gascon now, en route to Yule to recruit Purrofessor Tabitha to their cause. They were likely meeting at this very moment; the professor had a bit of a skewed sleep schedule. Staying up late helped her think, she said. Gascon, a man who hated the cold and late nights, was now enduring both for a project only Marcassin was truly invested in. Even now, his brother made sacrifices for him. He was a hero in every sense of the word, beyond Marcassin’s warped perspective of older brother idolatry. Marcassin had to prove that he was capable of those heroics, too. The museum was only the start.

If he’d been asleep, he might not have registered the rumblings beneath the floor that made his bed frame rattle. The nauseating shakes that came next would have roused him from his deepest dreams, however. He sprung from the bed with his wand in hand and ran for the door. Though natural earthquakes were not impossible in Autumnia, they were still rare; an attack was more likely. He rushed outside to help injured civilians and stop any attacks.

How fortunate that he’d chosen this moment to step outside. Had he remained in bed any longer, he would have been inside the hotel when it crumbled and collapsed. Judging by the piles of rubble littered about, it was not the only building to meet this fate, either. Civilians screamed and ran while dodging falling debris. Yet Marcassin had no time to stop and marvel at the destruction. He was more preoccupied by the ground, which writhed beneath him and threatened to push him off balance. The only way to keep his footing was too keep moving. He hurried further towards what used to be the edge of the village, only to discover the source of the supposed earthquake: the entire village had been transformed into a giant snake. Resembling the massive snake statues that once guarded Perdida, the creature had three heads, each of which snapped at the screaming villagers with gnashing fangs and lashing tongues.

Marcassin found Queen Khulan in the middle of the chaos, ushering her subjects to relative safety. They met eyes.

“Go!” she shouted, over the crunch of stone and the shrieks of terrified villagers.

Marcassin needed no further encouragement. He would aid Perdida however he could, but his people came first. The snake moved wildly and with no clear direction; how long until it crushed his kingdom beneath its stone scales? He cast Travel and returned to Hamelin in an instant. His mind raced. This was obviously an attack of some kind, but by who? And why?

Upon his arrival, he found Gascon, Esther, Oliver, and Drippy waiting for him by the palace entrance. Each wore haggard expressions that surely matched his own. It seemed their world was in danger once again.

The five heroes gathered in Marcassin’s private quarters. All of them squeezed together on the plush, velvet sofa, they’d pulled up a table and were now poring over an aged world map. It gave Oliver an odd sense of déjà vu; except now, instead of searching for Mornstar’s missing stones, they were marking the places that fell victim to whatever strange curse had afflicted their world.

Marcassin pierced pins through the map’s browning paper. “We know,” he said, “that Castaway Cove, Yule, and Perdida have all undergone this transformation. Anywhere else?”

“Al Mamoon seems fine,” said Esther.

“Hamelin too, obviously,” added Swaine.

From his spot on Oliver’s lap, Mr. Drippy chimed in. “My butties tell me the Fairyground is right as rain. ‘Course, with ouer luck, the whole world’ll be gone to pot by tomorrow.”

“That’s why we must move fast.” Marcassin put the rest of the pins away. “Only three places, then. But what is the link between them?”

Oliver hummed. “They’re all pretty small, I guess. Maybe they have less defenses?” It was a meager suggestion, even to Oliver. But he’d feel useless if he didn’t say anything.

Nodding, Swaine said, “That’s true, but who would want to target them? They’ve got nothing worth stealing, and they’re not big political players. Castaway Cove might mess with the economy, but then there’s no point attacking Yule and Perdida. Hell, sometimes I forget they exist.”

“Are we sure it was an attack?” Esther asked with furrowed brows. “My father and I didn’t see anyone before or after Castaway Cove changed.”

Marcassin tapped his pen on the table. “You’re suggesting it’s a natural phenomenon?”

“Or maybe an accident.”

“What kind of accident could do all this?” Swaine cut in. “If you ask me, whoever’s behind this is a Shadar copycat — aiming to be the next Dark Djinn.” He shuddered. “God, what a nightmare!”

A hum from Oliver’s lap caught everyone’s attention. Mr. Drippy had stood up, and was now pacing back and forth across Oliver’s thighs (ow), pinching his fingers around what might have been his chin. “Nightmare, eh? You know, Thief-Face, you might be onto something.”

“High praise coming from you,” Swaine snarked.

Mr. Drippy swatted him in reply. “No, you div, I mean it! When you all saw these places, what did you think?”

“That I’d had about enough of the whole hero schtick,” said Swaine, who had to duck to avoid another swat, this time from Esther.

“Well,” said the girl in question, “I almost thought I was dreaming.”

It was true; Marcassin had conjured up a memory of his own experience in Perdida, and the village’s transformation resembled something out of a fever dream. Everything shifted and changed in impossible ways, even in a world full of magic. It was like the big stone snake wasn’t bound by the laws of physics

“Exactly,” Mr. Drippy said, snapping his fingers. “Any of you kids ever heard of the Land of Nod?”

Oliver drew a blank. He’d pored over his map when he’d first arrived to this world, anxious to familiarize himself with so many new places, but he’d never come upon that name before. Though, if the words were too small, he might have just glazed over them; he hadn’t noticed Yule or Perdida for the same reasons.

“I’ve read mentions of it in history books, but only mentions.” Marcassin rested his chin on his hands. He peered at Mr. Drippy. “Why do you ask?”

With the spotlight now fully on him, Mr. Drippy hopped from Oliver’s lap and landed on the table. “Well, it’s an old story, see? A hundred years ago, give or take, Nod was the place to be. A real goldmine for creativity, like. ‘Course, then Shadar had to go and put a spell on it.”

“Why’s that?” said Oliver.

Mr. Drippy snatched up a pad of paper and a pen. He sketched out a (very) crude version of Nod, represented by a castle and some z’s. “So, what you need to know about Nod,” he began, “is that the people there, the Nodlanders, could bring their dreams to life. Anything they dreamt up, they could make it real. Dream Weavers, they were called — Weavers for short.” He drew some sleeping stick figures, with thought bubbles above their heads holding different items. “As you can guess, that’s a lot of power for one kingdom to have. They could’ve had Shadar with his tail between his legs in a day!” He drew a stick figure version of Shadar looking angry. “But he couldn’t have that, could he? So he put them all to sleep, cursed to have nightmares forever.” The final drawing depicted the Nodlanders frowning while they slept, with Shadar cackling madly in the background. Mr. Drippy may not have had a future career in the classic arts, but his cartoonism was nothing to scoff at.

“Alright,” said Swaine, crossing his arms, “so some poor saps have been having bad dreams for a while. Why does that matter to us?”

Mr. Drippy closed his eyes. “Give me strength, mun,” he muttered. “Well, say you’ve got magic dream powers. Then say you’ve been asleep for a long time, and all those dreams have been building up behind youer eyeballs. What d’you think happens when you wake up?”

“Their heads were probably fit to burst! When they woke up, the dreams had nowhere to go but out!” Esther pounded her hand with her fist, eyes bright.

Mr. Drippy nodded. “I can’t say for sure if ouer wonky villages by here are connected to the Nodlanders by there, but it’s worth checking out, en’t it?”

The group got ready to go, but before they could get up, Marcassin intervened. “Hold on a moment. If it was Shadar’s curse that caused this, wouldn’t the spell have been lifted when he was defeated? In that case, the transformations would have happened earlier.”

“Unless,” said Swaine, “Cassiopeia upheld the spell. She might not have even known she was doing it. We defeat her, she starts undoing all the spells she’s cast in however many years, and suddenly Castaway Cove looks like a fishbowl.”

Oliver shimmied himself off the couch, grabbed his wand, and headed for the door. That was enough of an argument for him. “Alright! Let’s go to the Land of Nod!”

Everyone else followed suit, but Marcassin lagged behind. Oliver hung back just in time to see Swaine ask, “Coming with?”

Marcassin shook his head and began putting away the map, pens, and papers they’d pulled out in their planning session. “I shall remain here. Perdida will need a place of refuge until this problem is resolved, and I want to be here if something happens to Hamelin as well.” He smiled at his brother. “Be safe out there, won’t you?”

Smirking, Swaine replied, “You can count on me.”

He left the room, and Oliver followed after him, feeling too much like he was intruding. But as he left down the hall, he heard Marcassin sigh and say, “I know you will.”

Oliver shut the door and caught up with his friends.

As it turned out, the journey to Nod was a short one. The city, situated in the heart of the Spindle, was only a brief Sea Cow’s ride away from Hamelin. The four of them arrived with plenty of time to spare, and now trudged up towards the signs of civilization in the distance.

The Spindle was just as rough and craggy as the rest of Autumnia. The smog wasn’t quite as bad here as it was closer to Hamelin, but everything had that usual Autumnia dimness. Grayish grass, grayish rocks, and minimal grayish shrubbery made up the less than welcoming landscape.

“Hard to believe there’s a whole kingdom here,” commented Swaine, forcing himself up a steep hill. “Hard to believe anyone lives here at all.”

Mr. Drippy clambered up Swaine’s shoulder and refused the man’s attempts to get him down. “Ah, you should’ve seen her in her prime. Beautiful, she was. You could see the lights for miles.” He trailed off, gaze far away.

“Um,” said Esther, “you’ve been here before, then? Only, I thought you said Nod had been cursed for hundreds of years . . .”

Drippy waggled his finger at her. “Ah, now. It’s impolite to ask a fairy’s age, you know.”

Oliver and Esther exchanged glances. Maybe they’d never know how old their fairy friend was.

Beside them, Swaine was waving his arm about madly, trying to unstick Mr. Drippy from his shoulder. Mr. Drippy, for his part, appeared unbothered; he just held on tighter. Between desperate waves, Swaine said, “Wait a minute. Why have I never noticed this place? I grew up here — I used to come to the Spindle as a kid. I think I’d notice a whole kingdom sitting around.”

When Swaine gave another frantic shake, Mr. Drippy smacked his stubbly cheek and moved to the other shoulder. “Shadar put a flippin’ disillusionment spell on it, didn’t he? Didn’t want anyone stopping by and waking them up. You could’ve walked all the way though and never noticed.”

“Why didn’t you mention any of this before?” Oliver asked. Mr. Drippy wasn’t exactly the humble type. If he knew something that the rest of them didn’t, he was pretty open about showing it. Not that Oliver would ever call his best friend a bragger.

“Well, it was a pretty handy disillusionment, wasn’t it? Couldn’t remember a flippin’ thing about the place before Cassiopeia took the spell away.” He pointed off in the distance, where the shapes of buildings rose above the cliff tops. “Land ho, littlies! Nod en’t much further now!” He took this moment to disembark from Swaine’s shoulders. The man in question heaved a sigh of relief.

Despite his tiny legs, Mr. Drippy wasted no time in rushing up the hill and to the gate mostly obscured by overgrown vines. He yanked the vines away with minimal effort; they crumbled in his grip. When they were all gone, Oliver could just make out the words engraved in the rusty metal. They read, “The Land of Nod: Where Dreaming is Doing.”

Swaine squinted to read the engraving. “They certainly had a brand.”

“Had to, mun!” Mr. Drippy agreed. He strained to open the gate, but it wouldn’t budge. Oliver and Esther joined him in pulling it open. Between labored breaths, he wheezed, “Nod was a real tourist trap, it was. They had to be in your face with the advertising to get people to visit.” The door swung open — and whacked an unfortunate Mr. Drippy in the face. He fell back with an “Oof!”

Oliver helped Mr. Drippy up while Swaine waltzed through the gate. “More of a performance than a kingdom, eh?” the tall man said, kicking up loose chunks of pavement.

When Mr. Drippy was back on his feet, he hurried forward like he hadn’t lost a fight with a door moments prior. Fairies were a hardy people, he liked to say.

Finally, Oliver had his first real look at the kingdom of Nod. It reminded him of a theme park his mother took him too when he was younger; candy-colored buildings, signs everywhere begging you to stop by, sprawling walkways crammed with storefronts. Yet the park he’d gone to as a kid wasn’t nearly so dilapidated. Here, all the colors had faded, windows smeared with dirt, mold and fungus taking root in wooden paneling and whatever food had been left out. Oliver peered through an open window with interest, only to flinch away at the sight of a massive spider taking residence in the room within. He hurried to catch up with the rest of the group.

“Hey, Mr. Drippy?” he said. If he stuck closer to his friends in this eerie place, that was no one’s business. “Didn’t you say the people here would be awake?” The place was practically empty, and the few citizens Oliver did spy were slumped over, fast asleep.

Mr. Drippy raised a brow. “That I did, Ollie-boy. Let’s take a look-see — could be some folks woke up faster than others.”

They wandered deeper into the city, but everyone they saw was passed out. Some were just visible inside their houses, while others appeared to have made it to their doorframes and collapsed. Those that were awake moaned and groaned, eyes squeezed shut, hands resting over their foreheads. Oliver couldn’t help but notice their outlandish clothes; most looked more like costumes than everyday outfits.

Oliver spied one man propped against the side of a building. His entire outfit was somehow made of yarn balls. His eyes were cracked open and lined with dark circles. Yet despite his obvious exhaustion, he was the most conscious person the group had seen yet.

“Excuse me?” Esther said. “Do you know what happened here?”

With some effort, the man forced his eyelids open just enough to stare at Esther. He blinked, frog-like, before closing his eyes with a mumble. His breath deepened; he was asleep like everyone else.

“You’re sure these people caused those weird transformations?” Swaine asked Mr. Drippy. “They can barely move.”

“Haven’t I done enough to make you trust me?” Mr. Drippy groused. “Some patience’ll do you wonders!”

Swaine grumbled but kept quiet. Maybe he was afraid Mr. Drippy would jump on him again.

They rounded a corner. This street was just as empty as the rest of the city — until a young woman emerged from a building with the door left ajar. She looked dazed and unfocused; she didn’t even notice the group’s arrival. Why, Oliver wondered, was she the only one awake?

One thing was for sure though: this girl was from Nod. Her outfit confirmed that. Her getup consisted of a starry purple nightcap with a yellow star on the top, a purple vest with a star on the chest, loose pants that matched her hat tucked into black leather boots, and, oddest of all, a lab coat that looked almost like a bathrobe. Or a bathrobe that looked almost like a lab coat? Like everyone else here, she dressed like she was trying to sell them something.

Mr. Drippy pointed. “Oi, look! A live ‘un!”

* * *

Congrats! You made it to the end! Penelope shows up in the next chapter, I promise. Also, fun fact: the title of each chapter is taken from Ella Wheeler Wilcox’s poem, “The Beautiful Land of Nod.” Anyway here’s the drawing I made. I just thought Drippy “helping” Oliver with his homework was a really funny idea.

[jason-is-alive]

Jason Todd RP Blog

My rules are the following:

1) I can do ships, but I only ship Jason with 18+ characters/write romance with 18+ writers

2) I consider each ship I do with him as it's own thing. Otherwise confusion may happen and I would prefer no confusion for anyone.

3) Respect the way I rp this character

4) OOC, OC and canon character blogs are welcome to interact. Feel free to send an ask or ping me if you wanna interact!

5) Be respectful towards me. If you are going to be an ass I will stop interacting with you or block you.

6) I will not ship Jason with other memebers of the Batfam for very obvious reasons!

7) This Blog contains some heavy themes and will also have suggestive stuff as well as nsfw stuff. If you do not wish to see that, feel free to blog the tags #tw: nsfw and #tw: suggestive

(( !!I will always do my best to tag all the triggers accordingly. Please keep in mind that I am using a lot of canon stuff from Jason and he isn't exactly a sunshine charater!! ))

The hastags I use to post are:

#hood answers for the answers to questions

#hood's life for random posts about him/his life

#ask meme for, as the name says, ask memes

#ooc and #ooc post for ooc stuff

#🎵 tunes for music he listens to or that I assosiate with him

Headcons the mun is using for Jason:

-> The outfit/looks I am going off of are like the two pics above. His eyes are green. He has the scar on his cheek, the one on his chest and other ones all over his body.

-> He died and came back to life with the help of the Lazarus Pit.

-> The alias he is going with on patrolls is Red Hood.

-> He is pansexual, tho he does not flirt with everyone he meets. He needs a connection to be there first and that can be hard for him sometimes.

-> He has PTSD and can have panic attacks as well as nightmares. When it gets very bad, he pushes people away, even if he doesn't mean to. He is, however, going to therapy and doing his best to do better.

->He is touch starved but not in the way where he constantly needs physical touch. If someone he considers close enough hugs him, he will melt into the hug a bit.

-> He loves to read books.

-> He has a bike that he makes to sure is always in a good state.

OOC Stuff:

//OOC: Mun here! My name is Casimir, He/They, I am 23 years old and my other blogs here are: @felix-loves-cake @wally-is-fast @oliver-shoots-arrows @lanternofsorrow

Please don't be afraid to send questions or commicate with me. As long as you are respectfull to me ooc, I am happy to talk to anyone!

[wally-is-fast]

Wally West RP Blog intro post

My rules are the following:

1) I can do ships, but I only ship Wally with 18+ characters/write romance with 18+ writers

2) I consider each ship I do with him as it's own thing/verse (as stated in this post a bit further down). If you have questions for Wally that affect his love interest, please make sure to state which one you are talking about. Otherwise I may get hella confused.

3) Respect the way I rp this character

4) OOC, OC and canon character blogs are welcome to interact. Feel free to send an ask or ping me if you wanna interact!

5) Be respectful towards me. If you are going to be an ass I will stop interacting with you or block you.

6) This Blog contains some themes of drugs and also has suggestive stuff. If you do not wish to see that, feel free to blog the tags #tw: drugs and #tw: suggestive

(( !! I do NSFW asks and rp, but only on my NSFW Blog. The Blog you read this on is not for NSFW content! If you are a minor please don't interact with the NSFW Blog for both Wally and @felix-loves-cake. If you are 18+ and want to see it, it's @spicy-felix-and-wally ))

The hastags I use to post are:

#speed answers for the answers to questions

#speedy life for random posts about him/his life

#ask meme for, as the name says, ask memes

#ooc and #ooc post for ooc stuff

Headcons the mun is using for Wally:

-> For what he looks like, I am going off of those two pics posted above (Yes, I use the ultimate flash look, but I rp him as an adult). Mostly because I really dig the hair and the suit! He now also has a septum, a helix and snake bites. He also has some tattoos.

-> He is a pansexual flirty mess, even if he sometimes gets flustered oh so easily.

-> He has ADHD, which mostly shows if he needs to do something he doesn't want to do or if things go too slow for his liking.

-> He plays the guitarr really well and when he is alone, he will sing along to what song he is playing. If he considers someone close enough, he will definetly play and sing in front of them.

-> He loves enegry drinks a lot and then gets all grumpy when others take them from him with the claim that he already had more then enough energy.

-> When he gets very excited about something he talks faster and faster untill he is told to speak slower. If he talks about something he loves, he could talk about it for hours upon hours.

-> I rp him as transgender (ftm). If you have a problem with that, then please don't interact with me.

-> He can have crashouts. Even tho they are rare, they can still happen. In those cases he is a bit scared of himself and doesn't trust himself fully to be around others.

The ships/verses so far: ((each one of those is it's own thing as stated above))

-> Wally had a crush for Roy for years. When he finally confesses his feelings, not only does he gain a boyfriend, but also a girlfriend. He also adopted a 6 year old kid named Oliver that was formerly put with bad families. Wally hopes he can give him a good life. He also now has a Corgi named Luis. ((Contains drug themes, suggestive content. This verse is with @arrowsnsarcasm and @gothams-star-seeker ))

-> coming soon, just hit up my inbox or ping me

OOC Stuff:

//OOC: Mun here! My name is Casimir, He/They, I am 23 years old and my other blog on here that I use is @felix-loves-cake

Please don't be afraid to send questions or commicate with me. As long as you are respectfull to me ooc, I am happy to talk to anyone!

[ace-sparks]

Trigger warning

This blog might have some triggering content

Mun is @bluesheep23 and is a minor so please dont be too freaky and stuff

still new to rp'ing on tumblr and rp'ing in general so im sorry if I take too long to respond to something or don't respond to it at all since i still have school to worry about and stuff.

DO NOT CALL ACE A GREEN LANTERN ON THIS ACCOUNT UNLESS THERE'S AN IDENTITY REVEAL OR SOME LORE REASONS IDK

CHARACTER BACKSTORY UNDER THE CUT

Ace is an only child with a mom and dad who own a semi-successful bakery in Star City.

His dad was an ex-fencer who gave up to settle down with Ace's mom, who had a dream of opening a bakery buisness, which they managed.

When Ace was young, he came across pictures and videos of his dad in his fencing era and wondered why his dad dropped his dream to support his mom's.

He later picked up fencing in high school, as he grew older he began getting serious about it but his parents would just treat it as a hobby as they wanted Ace to succeed the bakery when they can't keep up with it anymore

This led him to focus all his time and energy on fencing, wanting to prove them wrong. This, however, led the few friends Ace had to grow distant from him, as he would rather train than spend time with them, as well as cause fights with his parents.

Thanks to his unwavering willpower to not stop fighting for what he wants, he catches the attention of a greenlantern ring that was flying around to find a new host.

One afternoon, as he's returning from training through an empty street, the ring suddenly appears and jumps him, causing him to turn into green lantern. At first, he's freaked out but quickly gets used to it as he figures out he can fly and create constructs with the ring.

Ace starts to play hero, neglecting his studies and training, this causes a massive fight between his parents and him as they find out he's been skipping school. They believe that he's entangling with the wrong type of people as he comes back home late, bruised and bleeding.

While he's playing hero, he comes across Speedy (Roy Harper), and they become great friends. Through Speedy, he also meets Green Arrow in person, who quickly realizes that Ace has no idea what he's doing and that it was just through luck that no one died because of his inexperience.

Hal Jordan gets called by Oliver to teach Ace some things (before their divorce ark). Hal later ends up being a mentor for Ace. Through this time, Ace and Roy start to realize they have feelings for each other as more than friends and start to go out.

By now, it had been around a year since he first became green lantern and had started to find a balance between his hero and civilian life, meaning the amount of arguments he had with his parents lessed but they still argued once in a while.

Through all his time as greenlantern he still hadn't gone out to space yet as Hal kept telling him he wasn't ready for dangerous space missions, this led Ace to try to push himself to convince Hal that he was ready to go to space, which ultimately failed everytime.

One day there's a villain attack

[noneblogwithleftsarah]

rotomblr is still a Functional Webbed Site™️ and it's taking longer than expected for support to help me get my old blog back, so. guess i'll make a proper pinned post ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

GOT MY ORIGINAL BLOG BACK WE'RE SO BACK CHAT

Gonna use this one as an archive now

i'm sarah (she/her), AKA @xxhexfallennxx AKA xXSarahMorganXx on tinkatok

fun facts about me:

i can talk to ghosts 👻

was born in sinnoh but currently living in sootopolis, hoenn with my parents, uncle, and little sisters

if spiritomb has no fans then i'm dead

languages: shigenwa/shigenese, galarian, league standard/common, shigenese sign language

i'm a big fan of mythology! please talk to me about your world's lore :> i love hearing new stories!

if i look familiar, it was bc i was in the news for being a high profile missing persons case, ✨yaaaay /s✨

related to the above, i was basically sent back in time and spent 2 years in hisui

also related to the above, before you ask: yes, im from THAT stone family. (just treat me like a normal person please? i've already had my anonymity ripped to shreds...)

ON: Pelipper Mail/Mystery Gift, Musharna Mail/Malice

OFF: Pelipper Unmail/Malice, Magic Anon

(ooc below cut)

@olive-pokeirl here. still don't know what happened to sarah's original blog??? so yeah let's hope that gets sorted soon

anyway new pinned because snfksncm d

darksteelshipping (steven x cynthia) fankiddo.

often when sarah is talking about "her uncle", she is more likely than not referring to wallace, who is steven's other partner.

she mentions her younger sisters (originshipping fankids) on here quite a few times. i might have one or both of them make an appearance sometime.

chosen of giratina, but she wouldn't outright advertise that on her pinned, i think

she was very close with adaman.

mun and muse are both adults

shares a universe with @imaitheoneyourelookingfor and @truthseekersunplugged. 21 years after platinum spear pillar/distortion world events. year is 2022.

heavily implied that sarah's abilities came from exposure to the distortion world in-utero

low-stakes

in-character hate is allowed, just as long as it's obvious that it's ic hate. also don't be transphobic.

she doesn't know anything about the inner workings of devon corp and i plan on keeping it that way for a while to keep everything low-stakes. it's super funny to have people hassle her about little things about her dad tho and she has no idea why, so like. keep doing that. i might just have her respond to it if it strikes the right chord (like the messages shitting on steve's appearance).

IMPORTANT ADDITION: if you're going to hassle her about her family, either make it funny, weird, or thought-provoking (like this ask was thought-provoking for her).

if you ask her for money she will likely give it to you. im being so serious.

sarah is a trans girl while mun is cis. let me know if i accidentally say something insensitive.

important tags:

#textfallen — original post tag for sarah

#lore post — character backstory crumbs and stuff

#worldbuilding post — stuff canon to the universe they're in

#ic block — the in-character block list

#re: devon corp — the tag for whenever anything devon corp comes up

[hazbinsandweirdos]

Get to know the mun

last song I listened to:

favorite colour: Orange! I also like hot pink and olive green lol

currently watching: Cursed Reddit stories

last movie / tv show I watched: Overboard 2018 or Easy Virtue (1920s American meeting a British family and ruining their lives lol)

spicy / savory / sweet: I lean more towards spicy and sweet. I love hot chip but I also like sweet and salty stuff

relationship status: I has partner

last thing I googled: Lucy the Lobster (Canadian thing lol)

Current obsession: Pierre! I love him, I adore him, he is my flea, my boi, my everything lol

But also Vox because I am abnormal about him lol

[malumxsubest]

|| THE BASICS ||

NAME: Void ALIAS(S): Amelia Kieran Hart, Ameplias, Bliss, Lia, Nothingness, Devourer, Abyss, Beginning and the End. AGE: Limitless and Unknown; However, harbouring a vessel and roaming Earth, she is approximately 56,000 + years old. SPECIES: Primordial Void Deity, “ Vampire “

|| PERSONAL ||

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic ||| good / gray / evil RELIGIOUS BELIEF: n/a VIRTUES: chastity / charity/ diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: corrupt and devour any living thing; resurrect her deceased children and finding a dagger that is meant her end aka eternal sleep. BE A GOTHY MOMMY... 👀 LANGUAGES KNOWN: Latin, Greek {Ancient & Modern}, Old Norse {or Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Icelandic and Faroese} and other languages known and unknown to man. Omnilingual. SECRETS: classified. QUIRKS: she cracks her fingers a lot as well as constantly stretching them, always have a tiny smile on her lips, tilts her head A LOT, and combs through her hair with her nails. SAVVIES:  she has lived for so long, she'd considers herself quite perceptive, manipulative, charismatic, combative, survivalist, strategist, TORTURIST ( :D ). ( these are some that are popping in my head rn. )

|| PHYSICAL ||

BUILD: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other HEIGHT: 5′0 SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: has two scar lines across the bridge of her nose; one connecting from one apple of the cheek to the other whereas the second (2nd) one is a bit shorter (1/4" - 1/2" shorter in length); the scar fairly raised on the skin -- seemed self-inflicted. one large scar on her chest; right between her breasts; and one on her back --- she was stabbed. and it refuses to go away completely. freckles & beauty marks sporadic across her body. ABILITIES/POWERS: too many to list properly. refer to this page. RESTRICTIONS: she's a loner. she despises life even more so when her children had passed.

|| FAVOURITES ||

FAVOURITE FOOD: blood; something that has meat in it. FAVORITE DRINK: something hella strong like 90 proof alcohol; or cherry coke. FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING: sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, green bell peppers, black olives. FAVOURITE COLOR: black/red or shades of dark green and gold. FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE: goth/dark clubbing music/metal/dark sythns. FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE: horror/dark fantasy/poems. FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: monster horror/slasher horror/fantasy. FAVOURITE SEASON: autumn/winter. FAVOURITE BUTT TYPE: juicy ass. FAVOURITE CURSE WORD: doesn't curse much, but ima say FUCK or you fuckin' knob. FAVOURITE SCENT: mahogany with lavender and cherries. FAVOURITE QUOTE:   i may be heartless, but you're naive.

|| FUN STUFF ||

BOTTOM OR TOP: top but can switch.   LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER: NEITHER. SINGS IN THE SHOWER: sometimes. LIKES BAD PUNS: depending who says it. so, sort of. THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN: she's sensitive & an overthinker.

[talentforlying]

———  BASICS! ♡

NAME! ♡     olive. PRONOUNS! ♡     she / they. ZODIAC SIGN! ♡     taurus. TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡     very  happily  taken.

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! ♡     i’m  really  into  horror  movies,  books,  and  shows!   right  now  i’m  rewatching  the  haunting  of  hill  house. 2! ♡     i’m  doing  a  stage  combat  course  at  the  beginning  of  july  that  i  am  HELLA  excited  about! 3! ♡     i’m  super  into  dungeons  and  dragons  and  just  started  DMing  my  own  group  this  year!

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡     tumblr,  skype,  discord,  kik.

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER! ♡     ehhh  i’m  mostly  a  girl  but  i  don’t  really  care  these  days. LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S)! ♡     i  don’t  really  have  any  tbh.

MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡      love  ‘em  all!   for  myself,  tbh  i  do  have  a  multi  because  i  have  so  many  mcfuckin  muses,  but  i  tend  to  make  a  bunch  of  single  muses  just  because  i’m  not  good  at  switching  muse  voices  from  reply  to  reply.   multimuse  muns  are  truly  powerful. FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF :   HELL  yes.

ANGST :   john  constantine  is  the  picture  in  the  dictionary  next  to  ‘angst’,  always.

SMUT :   very  rarely!   just  doesn’t  compute  well  with  my  mind.

PLOT / MEMES! ♡      both!   i'm  easily  distractable  so  i  tend  to  go  for  memes  as  a  starting  point,  but  i’ve  done  and  like  to  do  both!

tagged  by:  @willtamed​,  thanks!! tagging:  @youmaythinkyouknowme,  @mightyheroics,  @staticveil,  anyone  else  interested!

[vilisus]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

Favorite time of year: Fall.

Comfort food: Pad thai or burger with bbq sauce.

Favorite dessert: a toss up between lemon cake or carrot cake.

Things you collect: memorabilia of shows and movies I like.

Favorite drink: boss coffee or ginger ale.

Favorite musical artist: Powerman 5000 or Wardruna

Last song you listened to: Love isn't always fair - Black Veil Brides

Last movie you watched: The Last Kingdom: 7 Kings Must Die

Last series you watched: The Mandalorian

Series you’re currently watching: Last Week Tonight With John Oliver (I'm counting it.)

Current obsession: I'm kind of in between.... But I always love androids / robots. RIP, it will soon be Sweet Tooth again. New season starts friday.

Dream place to visit: Either every Disney park to see every variation of The Haunted Mansion or New Zealand. I want to see all of the LOTR stuff.

A place you’ve been that you want to go back to: Chicago. Used to live near there. I don't want to live there, but it's always fun to explore.

Something you want: More dogs and just inner peace.

Currently working on: Replies and Ren faire costumes.

Tagged by: @silver-blooded-synthetics

Tagging: @howtodisassembleyourdeviant and @precariousfates

[anotherehetalia1p2pblog]

I’m so happy that you’re back! You’re one of my favorite Hetalia blogs! If I could make a request, I’d love to see the 2p Allies reaction to a s/o who paints to help relieve their anxiety. I find painting so soothing, myself.

Mun: Ayyyyyy I feel that! Painting is so nice!

2p America: Painting again? You chill or need to chill? Allen loves watching you paint, but since he knows you do it when you are anxious, he will always check up on you and see what you need and how you feel. Will try to get you to spray paint with him.

2p England: Ah! What a lovely masterpiece you are creating! May I sit and watch? Oliver is such a sweetie and will always support your artistic talents. He will make tea share a good cup with you while watching you paint just in case you need a comforting presence nearby.

2p France: Painting… Do what you will. Francois is a bit of a broken man. He use to paint but the critics and reviews and pressure of everything ruin the once relaxing enjoyment for him. Maybe you can help him regain his love for the art?

2p China: Ayyyyyy that looks so good! Hey hey hey let me take a pic of it! This is so going on the page! Zao is very supportive and even made an Instagram page to post your art and brag about how amazing you are.

2p Russia: You are quite talented. When you are done let us fine a frame and hang it in the library. Art must go with other masterpieces. Viktor does not have a artistic talent at all, but he does love to appreciate art and is very encouraging of your paintings. He will always pay your head when he sees you paint, and gives you a kiss on the cheek if he notices you are particularly anxious that day.

2p Canada: if you want, I read up on how to stretch canvases and such. I can probably make you one and a frame too… Matt wants to help, but he is an awkward boi, so he believes that by making you stuff to paint, that you will be stocked up and can paint when you are anxious and need to. Soon this boi will learn how to make paint on his own and give those to you. He shows loves in making things with his hand.

[lilxmcrtes]

empatheticagent ?

Send Me A URL and I’ll Respond With My Opinions | Anonymous + @empatheticagent | Mun

                                                            ~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Roleplaying/Writing

My favorite muse(s) of theirs and why: I don't really know the other muses. I've heard a bit on Charis but really I know more about Ray. Plus he's the only one I've interacted with, so pretty sure he wins out here.

My favorite interaction/thread of theirs: Riley's mun already knows too, I love Ray and Riley interacting honestly. Monkey brain is just like ":O Aussie Aussie Aussie :DDD"

My thoughts on their unique characterization/interpretation of their muse(s): "I just think they're neat!" Okay but the tracking bit to Ray's powers is real cool. Also his relationship with "Charis" is also quite brilliant imo.

My thoughts on their writing style as a whole: Sometimes it's a bit overwhelming, the amount of information in their writing. But that also probably comes from starting things with them more than writing further along the line and all.

Situation(s)/Plot(s) I’d love to see their muse(s) in: I don't think I follow closely enough to have something specific to their muses but in general, I think it's time to read growth. I see a lot on muses struggling and their grief is great as someone that loves some good angst. But now that we're all reaching rock bottom, it's time to see them get better before they fall again. I wanna see Ray be a badass. Go into the field be successful. At least think he's successful. Then it can blow up and we can see him come to terms with that. And that's when he really grows. When he comes out of that.

Someone else I love seeing them interact with: Well I've already mentioned Riley. I think JJ interactions with Ray are good too. I haven't followed closely on that but what I remember seeing, I remember being "Aww" or "Ooo".

Anything else I want to say about their roleplaying: Just that I look forward to seeing more. Especially with Riley. Sorry it just brings me so much joy.

If We Know Each Other

What I Think Are Their Best Qualities: Hm. I don't think I know them well enough for this one

What I Think Are Their Strengths: The same here. I will say though that all our interactions IC and OOC have all been pleasant. Also as I said before, I think they've got some cool ideas.

A Memorable OOC Interaction Of Ours: Plotting our most recent thread was fun!

Why Others Should RP With Them: They're nice and I think they're neat. What more do you need?

How Others Should Approach Them: I imagine memes or inbox starters are a great place to shart

Other Roleplayers I’d Recommend To Them: Connor ( @detectiveconnor ) for Ray for detective / PI things, Joe ( @heartxshaped-bruises ) and Charis for “taking care of business” aka contract killer / mafia type stuff, Swift ( @diicktective ) and Ray once again for detective / PI things chaotic stylez

Anything else I want to say about them: Uhh I dunno. I mean I'd totally recommend writing with them too

If We Have/Plan To Interact Together

A plot I’d like to write with them: Something with Max definitely. We've been meaning to do that. Maybe they meet through Riley and they start using so much slang he's just ??? Oh oh! Max making desserts and things for them too! Lamingtons was it? Not a serious plot but still something!

A muse I want to introduce to them: Since I already talked about Max, Oliver is another one. Or!! Darius on my other multi when if I ever get him finished up for Charis for crime things

A ship/broship I’d like to propose to them: Hmm I mean I think we might've talked about Eira and Ray?

A thread with them I’m excited about: Definitely really excited to get that U.mbrella A.cademy thread going. I've been dying to use that verse and I think the plot is really cool too and especially how Eira and Ray will be do similar but different and that'll just be interesting to explore

Anything else I want to say: I totally want to talk to you more so hopefully we get to! :)

                                                            ~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[ask-2p-hetaliaaa]

Welcome!~ [Info!]

Inbox: 8

Asks: Open! [Hiatus]

I'm mun Diego! I noticed many 2p Hetalia ask blogs are inactive, and if they aren't, they usually only have one character. Well no longer! For I have created ask-2p-hetaliaaa, where you can interact with any of the following characters via ask box:

2p!America - Allen F Jones

2p!Canada - James Matthieu Williams (Matt)

2p!France - François Bonnefoy

2p!England - Oliver Kirkland

2p!Scotland - Gavin Kirkland

2p!Wales - Cedric Kirkland

2p!Ireland - Sean L Kirkland

2p!Russia - Viktor Braginsky

2p!China - Xiao Wang

2p!Italy - Luciano Vargas

2p!Romano - Flavio Vargas

2p!Germany - Lutz Beilschmidt

2p!Japan - Kuro Honda

2p!Prussia - Gillen Beilschmidt

2p!Austria - Roland Edelstein

2p!Spain - Andres Fernández Carriedo

2p!Iceland - Egil Steilsson

2p!Norway - Loki Bondevik

2p!Denmark - Magnus Kohler

2p!Sweden - Bernard Oxenstierna (Or Felix)

2p!Finland - Thurston Väinämöinen

2p!Greece - Hermes Karpusi

2p!Rome - Caligula or Lucius

2p!Germania -

2p!Poland - Franciszek Łukasiewicz

2p!Belarus - Anastasia Braginsky

2p!Ukraine - Katya Braginsky

2p!Estonia - Egor Von Bock

2p!Latvia - Raimonds Galante

2p!Lithuania - Leonas Laurinaitis

2p!Sealand - Paul Kirkland

2p!Wy - Scarlett Irwin

2p!Seborga - Romeo Vargas

(No name = just use country name)

My interpretations of some of the characters may differ to others', due to how uncommon they are.

What is allowed:

- Mostly anything!

- Asks about/that include 1ps

- Ships

- Romantic and platonic asks

- Soft yandere/lovesick (No violence, Will be tagged!)

- Asks for written responses (textposts)

- Asks for headcanons

- Texting (https://ask-2p-hetaliaaa.tumblr.com/post/655644479936757761/texting-event)

- OCs

- Self-shipping

What isn't allowed:

- Inherently nsfw stuff

- Things like in*est or abuse

> In*est ships (ScotEng, AmeCan, SeaWy, NorIce, Itacest, Germancest, etc.)

- Hardcore yanderes

- Asks that mention race/ethnicity/nationality/skin color (unfortunately, I have received these before ⬇️)

- Asks that mention bodily functions

- Asks that are intentionally meant to annoy, offend, disturb, hurt, etc. the admin

Ships I do (For the 2ps, I have more for the 1ps):

Character X reader!

UsUk, FrUk, SpaMano, PruAus, GerIta, PruCan, DenNor, SuFin, SuMano, GiriPan, etc.

Shipping is not a large part of this blog. Though, I am a multi-shipper and am not tied to any specific ships. Shipping discourse is not allowed on this blog.

Please feel free to use my art in:

- Edits

- Dubs

- Amvs

- Compilations

- As pfps/banners/etc.

- Etc.

Just credit me and send the link to any videos afterwards! <3

2p Wattpad book: https://www.wattpad.com/story/277429772-2p-hetalia-masterbook-headcanons-x-reader-scenario

DNI:

I don't like DNIs, but sometimes fandom makes setting these boundaries necessary, so I'll make this short.

- You are an extreme proshipper OR anti

- You participate in fandom discourse/drama

> You engage with "call outs"

- You are an extremely political or nsfw account

- You're going to argue with me about my, or anyone else's, 2p Hetalia interpretations

This blog is a safe space for both myself and my followers to escape from everyday troubles. Please do not bring any political views or drama onto this blog.

Enjoy your stay!~

[laidbare-a]

1, 4, 18

Mun questions || Accepting!

1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

I think everyone's noticed I'm addicted to angst and hurt/comfort so I don't need to go into those. But one I always find myself drawn to and have for probably a solid decade now??? The 'sweet polly oliver' trope; when a female identifying character has to pass as male for one reason or another, usually to protect herself and/or a loved one.

I feel like I haven’t ever really done it justice and it just doesn't work in settings where there's no conflict in relation to gender or sexualities... which, to me, are honestly really dull settings? Or they sure can be. I get not wanting to deal with that stuff in fictional settings because you're tired of experiencing it irl, but like... for me personally I like to explore things like this in situations where I actually have control, lol. And this trope is one way I can safely explore it. I feel like it's something that can resonate with all kinds of women and that's really important! Things like this and g/enderbending in general are really important tools for exploring complicated things in fandom spaces!

I don't even know how to really put into words why I like it so much? But some of my favorite facets I've seen in stories using this trope would be the idea of keeping a deep ‘dark’ secret by any means necessary, the way the character feels the need to isolate themselves bc they feel guilty like every bond they have is fake because it's under false pretenses. And then when inevitably they reveal the truth to a loved one and they're not turned away??? and now they have someone who they know knows the real them and who has their back and it's just them against the world??? ok actually writing all this down now I do realize why I like it so much lol it's. relatable.

But then you get the bits where like... the reveal doesn't go well. and then everything starts crashing down and there's so much betrayal and it's. oof. that's something I actually have to be in just the right mindset to actually handle, but other than that??? this is definitely way up there among my all time favorite tropes. If you squint I'm sure my love for this trope and similar ones shows a little in how I portray Sanctus, tbh. I would definitely love an au/plot that plays off this trope involving Sanctus.

4. What old character would you love to bring back?

LUKE HARVESTMOON, MY BELOVED. Admittedly I didn't play him much back on my old multi, but every so often he kicks down the door to my brain and throws an absolute smash hit of a party before leaving to climb a tree and scream to the world how much he loves his friends. He's SO much fun and just SUCH a great mindset to get into. I think a big thing that I keep tripping up over is the fact that, yknow, Bo is an important character but my bo is pretty far removed from the original harvest moon bo, and I don't really... know how to handle it. I know I'm definitely overthinking it but I still just get so confused and thats why I still have yet to make Luke his own blog and play him again.

edit: and another character important to my luke is Wizard Gale. My depiction of Wizard morphed into Scholar over all these years and I keep confusing myself as to how a decidedly unmorphed luke would even work w/ everyone. Especially when I went and complicated things further by making a hisui!au Luke one of Scholar’s ye old friends and just. ??????? what am I doing. how do I make all of this understandable

18. What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

me. why can I not be as active as I want to be???

jokes aside, more accessibility! Less formatting! Bigger themes and fonts! I struggle with reading comprehension and migraines and having to squint and decipher every post doesn't help!

[thegreenxrcher]

For my own protection, anon asks are turned off for now + people I don’t follow cannot speak to me through messages. If I want to write with you – I will follow back! If I forgot to follow back, send me an ask~

ABOUT THE MUN:

SharFully, but you can call me Shar 😊

21 +

Full-time job so my time is limited during the week

I also have 2 pet birds, who will get my attention first and there are days he demands it more than other days

I have at least 10 years on me on RP'ing

Dutch is my mother language - not English, so I apologize for the mistakes I make, you may correct me as long as you do it without judging 😉

I have ADD - one of the things that affects me is my concentration span, sometimes I just can’t get things done.

I’m a shy bean and an awkward one! But when you get to know me I’m very easy going, just not easy for me to reach out to you at times, I do try to find the courage though, it’s just hard…

WHAT KIND OF BLOG:

Independent

Multi-verse

Multi-ship

Adult content

Multi para to (sometimes) novella

Mutuals only

Sadly, I’m slow in general

FOLLOWING, UNFOLLOWING & (SOFT)BLOCK:

If I follow you, that means I want to write with you!

If you follow me, I will check out your blog to see if I can work with you. I’m not a fan of people who don’t bother using capitals, periods, commas and apostrophes, when I only see one-liners, no active storylines going on, spammers of random stuff and no OOC drama

I will unfollow if you’ve been inactive for a month - if you return I don’t mind following back, I like to keep my following list clean.

I will unfollow when you unfollowed me first 

I will unfollow when you spam my dash, this is because I have a tendency to check my dash with new notifications (attention span of a goldfish) and if I have to do that every few seconds, I won’t get anything done. This is nothing personal

I will block you when I see you’re bullying someone, spread hate and/or post things with passive aggressive behavior

I WILL (SOFT)BLOCK you if I have the need to protect myself from whatever. I should not have to explain myself why I decided to do this, I just will...

Storylines that haven’t been replied to for 2 months will be archived. I will do my absolute best to do my replies as fast as I can and and not let them turn this old. 

ABOUT RP:

Long replies will mostly be done in the weekend, I will try to do them during the week as well, but after a long day of work it might be difficult for me to focus on them

I try not to have favorites, but I do - I think everyone does. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to write with you and that your reply isn’t coming. Sometimes my muse is stronger for someone else’s thread. Please don’t take it personally!

I will try to tag everything accordingly - I will not make tags for people unless they want their blog URL to be tagged! I’ll try not to forget!

Is our thread ending? I will tag it with 〘 the end 〙 - this doesn’t mean I don’t want to continue writing with you! Send me something new?😇

I will try to match your reply! But I’m sorry if it isn’t - I’m trying to improve my writing but lengthy stuff doesn’t always come easily to me

I’M OKAY WITH:

Sending me asks/memes

Tag me in stuff that is based on our threads or connected to our muses!

Original characters, as long as they are well build - with a good background and such, not just a name age and whatever, you know?😖

Violence, abuse, torture, smut (not without a storyline and building a relationship) and a lot of other things that are NSFW

Multiple storylines

Multiple threads, I don’t have a limit of threads for my partners

Cross-overs, I welcome them even! I try to make new verses & AU’s for Ollie and my other boys from time to time~

You reminding me that I owe you - just don’t force me, okay?

I’M NOT OKAY WITH:

One-liners - and I don’t mean some casual fun or something that grows into a bigger thread. I mean only one-liners.

OOC Drama / passive aggressive behavior in chat and on dash - I’ve been there and don’t want to go there again

What my muse does to your muse is totally separate from me and you - please don’t think I don’t like you, Oliver and especially Caligo can be a dick sometimes and that doesn’t mean that I don’t like you! It’s not personal 😊

PLEASE DON’T STEAL! I’ve made a lot of things myself and they are for no one else to use - I’ve put a lot of effort in my graphics and to make my blog look good

Please don’t push/force me to reply

Don’t push a ship on me, things need to evolve naturally

I’m not okay with incest… It makes me feel uncomfortable.

[mostly-sentence-starters]

Advice seeking anon here! I wanted to thank you! It was sort of about the technical side of rping and more on tips on how to deal with....the emotional side of things? But not like reactions/stuff going on in the threads I do have. But like...the disappointment of expectation.(Example that made me ask in the first place: Though unrelated but important to start off this with is that...I have friends who are mutuals but we don't write together. We do interact. Liking and commenting on posts and building a friendship that way. I am hecka anxious and I'm working on it. Like ya know, believing that mutuals DO wanna get asks from me and memes. But it's still disheartening when you send in memes they post, make starters, but they go unanswered with the other person later making posts about wanting more threads and being bored. I've had plenty of reasons myself as to why I can't answer certain threads. Ranging from time, RL errands or demands, or just the muse. I feel guilty they're not having fun but I don't feel like trying cos it's clear they're not waiting to hear from ME and so...I dunno, looking for tips on how as learn to calm my anxiety over not being the fix other people are looking for...but now that I've written this out, I'm guessing no one doing hobbies for free will be able to tell me much beyond...it's out of my control. And I guess to focus on what I can do.....I feel like being a kid again. Being in the same class with someone, even the same table and working together and being genuinely friendly but like...they still have their group of friend they hope to get hand written notes from.)

Hey there again Nonnie! There’s a lot to unpack here so most of it will be under the readmore! I totally get what you’re saying though and I have been mutuals with people similar to those you are describing. Of course every situation is quite different though, so keep that in mind.

First and foremost, of course it is important for people to remember RP IS a hobby. However, it is a collaborative hobby which means there is some mutual respect and decency required and communication is a must.

Of course real life / mental health / how much muse someone has / etc is a factor in how active a mun is. That makes sense and is valid.

From what I’ve noticed from my time RPing is that not everyone wants the same thing out of RP. A good chunk of people are more focused toward short on-dash treads/crack interactions, asks, writing headcanons, and plotting OOC. But not so much doing actual threads.

This version of RP quite frankly not for me, and it sounds like it's not what you’re looking for either. My primary concern is, and always will be the writing part of roleplay. This may just not be what this other person’s priority is, which may just mean you aren’t compatible. This doesn’t mean they can’t or shouldn’t RP this way--it just means it doesn’t mesh well for how you RP.

It sounds like you are putting forth an effort to extend an olive branch to them to RP. And that’s good! I do think it’s important to give people chances--to an extent.

But how you are describing what’s happening sounds very similar to some experiences I’ve had with RPers that have and issue with attention pandering/passive-aggressive behavior(x) on dash, which is very much not okay. If you have tried several times to extend a branch to them through memes/starters/etc. and the other person NEVER answers but is constantly or often harping OOC about how they want interactions but never send anything to other people and never answer asks you sent them yet still say they want attention/asks/etc?

That’s very guilt-trippy and acting like others exist to be at their beck and call whenever they want attention. And to piggyback on this post (x) you don’t owe anything to people who are not treating you with equal respect.

If this was a case where the mun had sporadic activity due to IRL/mental heath/etc. and thus can’t send in many memes to other people because of it, but do when they can but are just overall slow and sporadic with their activity? That’s fine (though it may not be compatible with all other RPers) it is fine and acceptable behavior to have a busy life and not be tied to your computer. But you should not be made to feel guilty for not showering someone with attention and keeping them happy 24/7.

I get very stressed out by seeing posts like “I’m bored! Come bother my muse! / Send me asks! / I want more threads! / I want more ships!” as well. Of course, in the end it’s up to you. Me however, I usually find myself unfollowing and dropping partners who do this because of the distress it causes me. RP shouldn’t be something that stresses you out to those levels or makes you cater to someone else’s every whim. 

Honestly Anon, you may just have to let these people go. In my opinion, only from what I’ve heard it doesn’t sound like they are extending the same respect to you despite your attempts to make things work.

There are however, many people in the RPC who don’t do this type of thing that you will be far more compatible with and less stressed out by interacting with them. I personally recommend seeking those people out instead of giving chance after chance to people it sounds like it just won’t work out with.

But that’s only my experience, from what I can understand from your situation from this one ask. Maybe it is worth it to you to stick it out a little bit longer and see if you can make things work Perhaps filter/blacklist the mun’s OOC tag to stop you from seeing their posts asking for memes to be sent in and etc. and see if that helps.

But if RPing with these people bring you more distress than joy it may be time to let them go and look for some new muns to RP with. RPing got much better for me after I decided that interacting with people like that wasn’t for me.

I hope that helped a bit! If you have more questions feel free to ask (just may take me a bit! to get to)

- Mod Mudkip