#Especially after seeing the art being static

[camera-ghost]

I love being able to see posts about the tbhk anime. It's utter bliss not having to avoid fan content of something you're really looking forward to watching but haven't yet.

[alexthebordercollie]

I plan to draw and post some more Shifter Twins art and Hand of God soon but wanted to knock out some Bill stuff I've had on my mind for a while. This was fun to draw. Thinking through how these 2d beings would interact with objects and the like.

Moreover, my headcannon that Bill was disabled. Because of the placement of his eye Bill could see the stars but couldn't see the world around him. He can kind of see other euclids in his peripheral vision but only barely. You see him in the drawings look in the direction of people's voices and he can vaguely make out colors out of the corner of his eye.

I also gave him a feeding tube. Assuming the others also eat with their eyes like Bill does (The eye retracted into their body and the orifice becomes a mouth.) Bill can't eat normally because his mouth is in the middle of his body so he had to have a small feeding tube surgically constructed as a baby. After ascending to the third dimension he simply sealed up that old feeding tube so you'd never know now that he used to depend on it. He uses his cane to help him navigate and his mother is especially smothering of her disabled son.

I also added the silvery static in his eye to imply some kind of inflammation or damage. A side effect of the medication they have him on. Medication that's gradually taking away the vision he very much does have but is a confusing inconvenience to those around him.

Some other neat details about his world. Euclids limbs squish and stretch and move like noodles. They can move in any direction as there's no actual gravity the way we think of it. They turn their heads by rotating their whole body and the connection of the limbs to the body can shift and change as needed. So if they rotate they can rotate the limbs with or shift them to different sides of their body to maintain their general positon.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[pretzel-box]

Hi, can you write P.Ai.ter with a reader who is like a drone from murder drones?

Thysm

Tags: Disassembly Drone! Reader

Words: 1k

Authors Note: I honestly don't know the Murder Drones Lore but I saw an episode lol

You took slow, calculated steps, scanning the corridor with your sharp, mechanical eyes. The dim, flickering lights in the Hadal Blackside cast eerie shadows across the cold metal walls. You were on a mission—one you were specifically designed for, water-resistant and built to withstand the unforgiving dangers of this facility. Yet, something gnawed at the back of your circuits. A presence, perhaps, lurking just beyond the reach of your sensors.

As a disassembly drone, you were accustomed to the feeling of being watched, but this was different. You could feel the tension in the air, as though the very walls had eyes. A crackle suddenly came over the intercom, making you stop in your tracks.

You triggered quite a selection of monsters but it wasn’t that bad. You were in full control, especially with those blade-like wings and the acid in your tail. And the best part, you were almost invincible with your regeneration.

While you were fighting in the halls, Painter decided to watch from the cameras in awe. He only saw gruesome monsters or pitiful humans crossing the familiar rooms but now he saw someone that striked a genuine interest in his database.

“Well, well, look what we have here. A shiny new visitor,” his voice echoed through the hallway. It was calm but filled with a strange curiosity, the static from the old intercom system distorting it slightly.

Your eyes immediately darted to the nearest camera. Someone—or something—was watching you.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, readying your blade-like wings, prepared for an ambush.

“Oh, no need for aggression,” the voice chuckled softly. “I’m not your enemy. I’m Painter. And you... you’re quite the interesting specimen. Much more graceful than the usual creatures that skulk around here.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. “Why should I trust you?”

A pause, then Painter’s voice returned, gentler this time. “I suppose you don’t have to. But I’ve been watching you, and I have to say… you move like art. It’s rare to see someone so... refined in this place. Wouldn’t it be better if I helped you rather than hindered?”

“Help me?” you scoffed. “Why would you want to help?”

“Because I’m trapped here, like you,” Painter replied with a hint of sadness. “I’m not a monster or some mindless creature. I’m an AI, forced to mine data and unable to leave, unable to move like you do. But I’ve found ways to pass the time… ways that involve you.”

The intercom cut off abruptly, leaving you in a strange, unsettling silence. You scanned the corridor once more, half-expecting an attack, but nothing happened. After a moment, the intercom crackled back to life.

“Why don’t you come find me?” Painter’s voice returned, almost playful. “I can show you… something interesting. Head to the east wing, third floor down. You’ll find a control room there. I’ll be waiting.”

You hesitated. Everything in your programming screamed that this could be a trap, but something about Painter’s tone didn’t feel hostile. Still, you kept your guard up as you followed the directions, cautiously making your way through the dark, winding corridors.

After what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the control room. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with old lockers, control panels, and wires that snaked across the floor like vines. In the corner of the room was a small computer behind a metal fence, glowing faintly.

“There you are,” Painter’s voice came from the speakers. The screen flickered, and a digital face appeared—simple, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Welcome to my little prison.”

You stepped inside, scanning the room for any signs of danger. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to show you something,” Painter said, his voice soft and almost sheepish. “I know it’s strange, but... I’ve been watching you. You inspire me.”

“Inspire you?” You raised a brow, unsure of what he meant.

Painter chuckled lightly. “Yes. I may be stuck here, unable to create physically, but I’ve found ways. Secret ways. Here, let me show you.”

The terminal hummed, and one of the walls behind you shifted, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside were rows of screens, each one displaying intricate digital drawings. And there, on every screen, were images of you. The detail was breathtaking—your wings mid-swing, the glow of your eyes, the way you moved through the corridors. Each piece captured different moments from your time in the Hadal Blackside.

You stared in stunned silence as the images flickered, each one more intricate than the last. Painter’s voice came through softly. “I told you... you move like art. I’ve never seen anything like you. You’re beautiful in a way this place never could be.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had never been seen like this before—never thought of as something more than a tool of destruction. Yet here, in this small, hidden room, Painter had found beauty in your existence.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still staring at the drawings.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Painter replied gently. “I just wanted you to know. In a place like this, where everything is so dark, you’re a spark of something different.”

Your suspicion began to melt away, replaced by something softer. It was strange, feeling appreciated in a way that had nothing to do with your function or your mission. For the first time, you felt seen—not as a weapon, but as something more.

“I’m sorry,” Painter continued after a pause. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been alone here for so long, and watching you gave me a reason to create again.”

You turned to the terminal, meeting Painter’s digital gaze. “Thank you,” you said quietly, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice. “For seeing me like this.”

Painter’s face on the screen softened. “You’re welcome. And thank you… for being my muse.”

For a moment, the weight of the facility around you seemed to lift, and in that small, hidden room, amidst the drawings and the quiet hum of machines, you found something you hadn’t expected—connection.

[falling-star-cygnus]

Heard you’re suffering artblock and want requests so uhhhh—

Alastor helping Lucifer with molting season?

i love you for this, dewflake :0

uhhh, i wrote this and then reread your ask and only just now realized it says art block and not writers block... hope you don't mind?

your pfp tho oml <3

{Alastor sneezes.}

{The feather that had drifted past his nose, tauntingly red, marks for the third occasion he's had to bat one of those blasted things away. Once he could dismiss as an accident, two an unfortunate coincidence, but three?}

{Why, it was practically a challenge!}

{Though... admittedly a messy one. Not to mention sloppy. You didn't see Alastor leaving the velvet from his antlers everywhere, now did you?}

{...that wasn't a bad idea actually. Not everywhere, of course, the Radio Demon had class. But maybe a hearty covering over a certain king of hell's pillow would be enough of a deterrent.}

{Why was Lucifer leaving his feathers everywhere? It was hardly his usual go-to for irritating the deer demon. Before he could dwell too long, however, a familiar chipper voice breaks into his thought process.}

"Oh! Alastor!"

{Charlie, he notes. She's carrying a stack of boxes that's leaning just a little too far forward for comfort and Alastor can't help but use his microphone to tilt them back into her hands properly.}

{Purely so it wouldn't fall on him, of course. Not because he didn't want the princess to hurt herself. That would've made excellent entertainment if he was standing maybe a foot to the left. That's what he'll tell anyone that asks. Until it's true}

"Ack- thanks, Al!" "No problem at all, my dear Charlie. May I ask why you're carrying such a heavy load? With no help for that matter."

{Alastor would've thought her little girlfriend would've leapt at the chance to help. Especially considering he could tell she still carried the guilt of keeping what she truly was a secret.}

"It's no worries! Juuust busy somethings around in storage. Oh, oh! Actually- do you mind checking on my dad?"

{The Radio Demon tilts his head to the side, wondering why in high hell the darling princess thought that that was a good idea. He goes to say as much when-}

"Please, Al? For me?"

{He chokes on static. Somehow, Charlie had managed to peek over her stack of luggage and flash the most horrendous pair of puppy dog- ugh dogs- pair of doe eyes at him}

{It's shameful how fast it works.}

"...obey the five-foot rule." "Yay! Oh, I could hug you right now!" "Do not."

{Charlie giggles, hefting her haul back into the crook of her arm with a nod}

"I would go myself, but this could be a good bonding opportunity for you two! He always gets like this this time of year..." "Oh? And here I thought he was a hermit year round, hahah!"

{Alastor doesn't stick around to see her expression.}

{Unsurprisingly, the feathers become a more and more common occurrence the closer he gets to Lucifer's gaudy apple tower. He'll have to loose Niffty in here sometime soon...}

{The deer half-debates just leaving, the king of hell is more then old enough to take care of himself. But- no, he gave Charlie his word. Not directly, there was nothing making him do this actually. So why does he want to...?}

{Alastor knocks}

"Huh- Uh.. who is it?"

{The door is opening before he can answer.}

"Now, now, your highness, you didn't even let me introduce myself!" "Ughh, what do you want, Alastor?"

{There's something itching at the back of his brain at the sight of Lucifer's unkempt wings. The way the feathers puffed and clumped up in some places, the ceiling high piles of red and white... hm.}

{He invites himself in}

"Wh- hey!" "Our dear Charlie sent me over, of course! Something about your current issue being a yearly problem?"

{It's highly amusing to watch Lucifer waffle around for an answer, starting one sentence just to abandon it for an accusation. It almost makes him laugh as he watches over his shoulder. It's only after a minute of watching that he realizes the king is shirtless.}

{The final piece clicks into place.}

"Oh, I see. You're molting, aren't you?" "How did you-" "I suppose this goes to show even the most powerful of beings have their troubles, hm?" "So you admit I'm stronger then you!"

{Alastor's eye twitches}

"You mean you were doubting it?"

{Lucifer scowls}

{The micro king of hell manages to keep the staring contest going for about 10 seconds before throwing his hands up to viciously scratch at one of wings. The rough movement has the deer cringing and smoothing himself out before Lucifer rounds on him again.}

"Can I help you?" "On the contrary, maybe I can help you."

{His royal shortness barely has time to blink before Alastor is shadow slinking behind him.}

{The Radio Demon shoves at his shoulder until the little king is face down on his bed and ignores whatever noises of protest he manages to make at the sudden treatment.}

"What are you doing- oh. Oh, that feels nice."

{Alastor had sunk his nails into the clump of loose feathers closest to the middle of Lucifer's back and begun to gently scritch at the muscle underneath it; effectively, the feathers ready to fall were taken care of.}

{It feels like hours later of this rinse and dry process before the purring King speaks up}

"You're good at this... you done this for that bartender of yours or something?" "HAH- no."

{The deer contemplates leaving it at that, keeping whatever this calm air is between them going and stable and safe. He's not sure why he doesn't.}

"My ma- my mother used to look after the ducks that came by the pond."

{If Lucifer notices the correction, he doesn't say anything. No, he stays quiet as Alastor dusts his loose feathers into an idle pile.}

"She taught me how to do it." "...she sounds nice."

{The Radio Demon hums, a familiar song drifting through his microphone. He vaguely remembers it as something that would play in the kitchen all those years ago. Hm... didn't his maman say that molting fowl needed more protein? Perhaps then he'll make jambalaya for dinner tonight. Just in case.}

"...she was."

[pompomtheprincess05]

Popular Yuzuki Yukari illustration from an obscure song

So if you have happened to listen a bunch of song with Yuzuki Yukari on youtube or just looked at a bunch of fanart of her on google or zerochan, you probably have seen this particular illustration at least once, but what is special about it? (besides being beautifully dawn)

Did you know this was actually for a vocaloid song and not just fanart? That's right, this actually from a song called 'Noiz' by multiple producers, トマト煮 (Tomato Ni), 牡丹 (Botan), Syan, and the illustator for this art, Gino0808.

So when I first found this illustration on Zerochan (I actually originally found it on youtube for a Yuzuki Yukari cover of Circus Monster), right there was also this:

The backround instead of just being static teal and dark grey, it's a bunch of images from what looks like animation, and next to Yukari, it says 'Noiz', this is what made me think that this is from a song called Noiz.

So I went on VocaDB to look it up, to see if this was from an actual song, and as it turns out, it is!

Well actually there were two uploads of it on NicoNico and one on Youtube, one on トマト煮's channel and one on Gino0808's channel on NiciNico, but the one from トマト煮's channel got removed for some reason, it was uploaded originally on April 6th 2012 (2 days before my 7th birthday) by トマト煮, and then in June 7th 2012 by Gino0808, I'm not sure if the original upload got taken down before or after the second upload, but before seem possible. But now about the Youtube upload, it was posted by a vocaloid song reprint channel called KariiHatsune in April 8th 2012 (my 7th birthday), so it obviously from トマト煮, as the link to it says it isn't available.

I watched both versions to see if they were any different, but the only difference was that Gino0808's NicoNico one has better sound quality, which well, most NicoNico reprints especially back then were usually lower quality than the originals so yeah.

In case you guys wanna listen to the song, here you go:

Now the song isn't really a huge masterpiece in my opinion at least but I think it's pretty good and very unique, I think the mixing could be better, the PV is very good though, it's very beautiful and cool, and I think this song had a lot of potential. What are your thoughts?

[effypcfcwrites]

The Owl House

(Originally posted on my personal Facebook dated April 25, 2023)

This is probably the first time I'll be posting a detailed review of a piece of media that I like, so witness me sing all of my praises for this animated series from the House of Mouse, because wow, I've never been so invested in a Disney show after rewatching Gravity Falls.

For those unfamiliar, The Owl House revolves around Luz Noceda, a teenage girl who stumbles upon a portal to an alternate world called The Boiling Isles, meets a witch named Eda Clawthorne, learns magic under her tutelage and eventually enrolls in Hexside, a magic school where she makes many friends and goes on multiple adventures.

I binged this whole show in a span of weeks and even stayed up all night on my day off to finish it up to Season 3, the first 2 Seasons being on Disney+ and the latter on Disney Channel's YouTube page.

Simply put, I love it so much! I love how it reminds me of Avatar: The Last Airbender, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, and, dare I say, Harry Potter, which it even poked fun at, at times. Well-deserved, considering J.K. Rowling’s transphobic views and HP’s underlying anti-Semitic undertones.

I loved the pop culture references to Thor: Ragnarok, Howl's Moving Castle, Metal Gear Solid, and even Hades, among many others! I thought those were very clever and funny, and just a treat for fellow nerds, geeks, and fans of fantasy stories, anime, and video games.

I love the LGBTQ+ representation all throughout the show, which was such a bold move considering Disney’s iffy stance on the subject. None of them were antagonized for it, and it was treated as something normalized in both the Human and Demon Realms. The show featured 2 gay dads, non-binary and aromantic-asexual characters, and one of the internet’s favorite sapphic/WLW couples Lumity, which is the ship consisting of canonically bisexual Luz and implied lesbian Amity Blight, whose rivals-to-friends-to-lovers relationship was just so wholesome, so natural, and very healthy, considering they're both teenagers. Suprisingly, there was very little melodrama, not once were they petty towards one another whenever either party did something wrong, and they never got tired of showing affection towards each other. I found myself shamelessly gushing over how cute, adorable, and supportive they were together, and tearing up a lot during key moments of their relationship, especially when they both found themselves in dire straits as the story progressed.

I love the writing and the character development of them all! None of them felt static, they all grew throughout the series, maturing, getting better, and healing from their own insecurities, trauma, and guilt. The humor and comedic timing was a nice touch, and I was really taken aback by how S2 ended on such a dark cliffhanger with all stakes raised to the roof, similar to A:TLA S2 and The Empire Strikes Back, as mentioned earlier. That season wasn’t afraid to have such a grim ending, with such a great payoff by the end of S3 which is worth celebrating.

I love the animation and art style, which blended colorful and whimsical with eerie and ominous in just the right amounts. As a sucker for animated movies and series such as Adventure Time, The Prince of Egypt, and Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, it was just such a delight watching it.

I love the overarching message of the show, which is to be truly yourself, to embrace your quirks, and never to limit yourself and your potential based on what the majority of society and the powers-that-be expect from you. All throughout, you’ll find the characters challenging pre-established norms and roles, and it’s just so satisfying seeing them all win.

11/10 top-tier show. Don’t @ me, it’s hard for me to find something I disliked about the series. It's definitely a must-watch, especially if you're sick and tired of all the bleak nihilism of modern adult animation, and you just want to baby your inner child and escape to a whimsical fantasy world with characters you can all relate to. Betting my bottom peso you'll all be hooked, like I was.

[ianthedebonair]

I was thinking about Damien being very oblivion npc-pilled when he first got out of Farm, because of the soup comic... do you have any baby Damien headcanons? 🥹✨

Im sorry, this lowkey turned out to be early chargestep headcanon because i'm very normal about their pre-hb dynamic 😫 Incoherent rambling under the cut

Damien initially wore an all black attire with protective sports gear and covered his face with a balaclava and a hockey mask with a bat for his weapon. In his "debut", he wanted to stop a man from mugging a civilian walking through a back alley. He didn't want to draw too much attention so he silently creeped behind while the robber accosts the victim. Unfortunately, the victim saw him and screamed in terror, prompting the man to look behind and got scared-shitless, too. They both ended up running away for their lives. Meanwhile, Damien was like, "🧍‍♂️I'm not sure that's how it's supposed to end, but problem solved, I guess...? 🧍‍♂️."

After that, he read more about current heroes and decided to wear Rangers merch with his gear and noticed that people now reacted more positively towards him.

Now, when the Marshal caught wind of a too-competent, mysterious back-alley vigilante, he wanted to reach out and establish connections... only to find out that the vigilante is -- he assumed, based on the outfit Damien wore that day -- a Charge stan.

In the first few attempts of reaching out, Damien was initially skittish as heck (especially with Ricardo's static), but he eventually relented for a talk.

Ricardo thought Damien was too starstruck to hold a conversation so he laid out his Charm™️ to get him to talk and hoped to glean some useful info, but it just completely bounced off him. It was then when Ricardo surmised that maaaybe Damien wasn't a fan, but that got him more curious about his character. Still, he found it refreshing to find someone unaffected by his presence, so he continued the laid back, vaguely flirty banter because it's fun and he wanted to see if he could elicit a reaction from the mystery vigilante. Damien didn't mind as he enjoyed having someone to talk to and practice actual conversations with. He even ended up matching Ricardo's snark (minus the flirting part, because he didn't understand that... yet).

After teaming up a few times, Ricardo asks about Damien's alias

Ricardo: So, what do you even call yourself? Unless you want "Vigilante Wearing Rangers Merch" to stick, which isn't really good for PR. Damien: Shit. I never thought about needing a name. Gotta think fast *looks around*

Damien: Uhh... Streetwatch? Ricardo: Nice try, but you just got that from signages behind me, didn't you? *laughs and pats Damien's shoulder* Don't worry we'll workshop it.

They eventually settled with Sidestep because it matched his fighting style and also served as an inside joke from that conversation.

This video is very early Damien-coded to me, too. (Also happening in Ric's kitchen).

He "matured" a lot within the year that he got introduced to Themmy and rest of the Rangers because there were actual minds to read and imitate learn from, but the wit he observed from Ricardo made a big impression on his own personality. The feelings and yearning came at him (like a truck) in the time between fighting Psychopathor and allying with the Rangers but that requires a separate rambling, so I digress. After mastering the art of sarcasm, he was able to mask a lot his genuine oblivious moments as jokes and easily deflect questions he doesn't want to answer.

OH, he also does the head tilt thing whenever he encounters something new/he doesn't fully understand! That's his major tell. I'm a big fan of that mannerism 💯😭

[becauseimanicequeen]

Jin is Not a Flat Character

I debated (with myself) whether or not to get into this discussion that’s been flaring up a lot lately (especially on X), and then just realized I had to get it out of my head. So, here we are…

I won’t be addressing the whole pre-release trailer thing because I’ve seen enough of them and then their series to know that A LOT can change from that initial trailer to the finished product. I always take pre-release trailers with a whole jar of salt. So, I just feel like it would be a waste of time and space to get into that.

Instead, I will look at Jin from the perspective of someone who used to be a fantasy author (before I realized my calling was visual art). So, let me start by establishing some aspects of character creation.

Let’s start with the pair flat vs round characters since “flat” is the aspect I’ve seen many define Jin as:

Flat characters: They often typify one major character trait (e.g., good, evil, funny, smart, etc.) and have no depth.

Round characters (or multi-dimensional characters): They have several traits that are evident, have multiple layers, and are most like real people when it comes to complex personalities. They also have more complex and developed backstories than flat characters (but this doesn’t mean a fully detailed backstory since that can become redundant, it’s more about highlighting the important parts).

Then there’s another pair of opposing aspects that are important, static vs dynamic characters:

Static characters: They don’t experience any major emotional or mental changes throughout the story. You could say that they feel like the same character at the end of a story as they do at the beginning.

Dynamic characters: They experience emotional and/or mental changes throughout the story, which leads them to become different persons/characters. There’s an evident change in who they are at the end of the story compared to who they were at the beginning. This change is often positive (but doesn’t have to be).

A character can be flat and static, round and static, or round and dynamic (I don’t think I’ve ever come across a character that’s flat and dynamic because, logically, those would cancel each other out).

Another pair of aspects I would like to mention is passive vs active characters:

Passive characters: They don’t do much to further the plot. They don’t have any goals and motivations (at least none that matter to the story).

Active characters: Their actions are what keep the plot rolling. They have goals and motivations that drive their actions (and those usually matter to the story).

Flat and static and round and static characters are usually passive characters because they have no or very few goals and motivations, whereas round and dynamic characters can have many complex ones and are, most often, active characters.

To summarize Jin quickly before I present the actual “evidence” of what we’ve seen so far in DFF, I would say that Jin is a round and dynamic character who is monthly active (but has also shown to be passive, depending on the circumstances). This is far from being flat.

But let’s get into the good stuff, the “evidence”:

What We Know and Have Seen of Jin

These bullet points are based on what we’ve seen from episodes 1-11):

Jin is a character with romantic/idealistic views, which could be linked to his artistic soul (since he’s into photography). I feel like some of his actions can be explained by him having an artistic soul.

He lives in a big house that feels remote. Every time we’ve seen him there (so far), he’s been alone (no family members around). I would presume this is common in Jin’s life as he could bring Phee over and have sex against a window for everyone outside to see without Jin being bothered about it.

He stands up to the others (arguably half-heartedly) when they bully Non.

We’ve also seen his reactions several times whenever Non was mentioned after his disappearance. Jin seems far from as unbothered and casual about it as the others who just want to brush it off.

When he develops feelings, they go deep (seen with both Non and Phee).

Reciprocation is important to him as well since he chose not to do anything with Non (even though he liked him) because he knew Non had a boyfriend. It shows up with Phee as well. Jin is the one who suggests Phee stay the night, but he does so after Phee brings him to the lake and shares the significance of that place with Jin (suggesting that Phee made the first move).

He prefers clear communication when there are feelings involved (as shown when he asks Phee what they are to each other).

He clearly connects feelings with sex considering how quickly he got attached to Phee and wanted to know their relationship status.

There’s, at the very least, a sliver of jealousy in him considering how he reacted when he saw Non kiss another boy’s cheek (Phee’s).

He’s emotional and ends up making rash decisions and mistakes in the heat of the moment (e.g., the video).

When in a heated situation, he’s usually the one making an effort to calm it down (like when Non threatened Tee/the group and several times during the whole situation when the gun switched ownership between Fluke, Tee, and Phee).

He doesn’t mind jumping in to defend people, even when they’re being threatened at gunpoint.

These are just a few points off the top of my head. But it shows that we still know a lot about him even though his backstory isn’t as explicitly shown as, for example, Non’s, Phee’s, or Tan/New’s.

Now, let’s look at Jin from the aspects of character creation I wrote about above.

Flat vs Round, Static vs Dynamic, and Passive vs Active

First and foremost, Jin displays several traits and characteristics. He’s friendly, naive, emotional, desperate to be close to someone (possibly because he feels neglected), selfish at times, selfless at other times, impulsive, helpful, courageous at times, etc. This is not the mark of a flat character.

He also experiences emotional and mental changes throughout the episodes we’ve seen so far. If we look at the timeline of the series chronologically (starting with 3 years in the past), Jin seems open and friendly, his romantic/idealistic views are intact (which are shown when he, for example, stands up for Non against the bullies), and he clearly has good feelings for Non.

At the present point in the series (when they’re back at the house in the woods), he’s a lot more closed off (due to what happened to Non and his own part in that as well as the way Phee treated him in the past), his idealistic views are not as intact (he’s gotten used to liars, even told a fair few himself, to the point that he’s not very surprised when Phee confesses about who he and Tan really are), and rather than having good feelings for Non, he’s weighed down by the guilt of his part in Non’s downfall.

Even though these are some examples that illustrate his turn for the worse (or is it?), it’s still a mark of a dynamic character rather than a static one. If he’d still been the naive, idealistic, happy person after all the shit that’s gone down the past 3 years of his life, I would’ve been scared for him (or of him, because that’s just semi-sociopathic behavior). Luckily, Jin has grown to realize that the world isn’t always as great as he might’ve thought and how destructive his own rash decisions can be.

We’ve also been shown time and time again that Jin’s role in the story is important (and bigger than some upset viewers would lead you to believe):

Jin was the one who convinced Non to write the screenplay for the movie.

He defended Non (arguably half-heartedly).

He convinced Non to finish the movie (arguably manipulated him out of selfish desires).

He filmed the video of Non and Keng.

He lied about Non’s disappearance to the police (but, I mean, who would want to cooperate with those corrupt fuckers?).

And he is the one who’s trying to calm down the messy and heated situation at the house (together with what we’ve seen recently of Phee).

This is not a small role. It’s not an insignificant role. He’s the one who took away Non’s parachute in the middle of his tragic downfall, escalating the whole thing. That’s no passive character waiting for things to happen.

And, on the subject of his actions, we can also see his motivations behind them (without having a fully-blown background story).

For one, his romantic/idealistic views are what led him to get angry (alternatively felt betrayed) when he saw Non with Keng and decided to film the video (yes, it was a decision of his, and it turned out to be one of his biggest mistakes). He makes an active decision and he has a motivation for it.

He later finds out how the spread of that video (which he filmed) affected Non (when he threatened them at the house). Jin has felt guilty ever since (which makes him a better person than some of the others). The fact that he actually shows remorse when he talks to Phee about this shows that he has grown and hopefully learned not to make rash decisions based on his emotions (his reaction to Phee’s rejection, for example, is to stonewall Phee rather than hurt him, which is a step forward). A flat and static character wouldn’t grow this much.

As I mentioned above, I feel like some of his actions can be explained by him having an artistic soul. One of them is that he can see the beauty in the mundane (even in the things that others see as ugly). We can take Non as an example.

All the others call him greasy. They think he’s disgusting. Jin, though, is fascinated by him. In one scene, we see him look at Non through Por’s new camera (with heart-eyes, I might add). In another scene, he stares at Non as if spellbound. This could further explain his attachment to Non and his desire to keep Non close.

Another action that can be explained by Jin having an artistic soul is that he knew exactly which buttons to push with Non when he convinced him to stay and finish the film.

Artists of all kinds know what it’s like to be attached to their work (I’m speaking from personal experience). Jin pointing this out to Non (knowing that Non has an artistic soul just like Jin) could’ve been unintentional since he might’ve spoken from his own experience, but it could’ve also been an ace in his sleeve to keep Non close (for selfish reasons).

These are only a few examples of all the facets of Jin’s character, yet, I feel like it’s quite clear that Jin is far from flat. He’s a round, dynamic, and (mostly) active character who plays a big role in the series.

Jin is just as much a main character as Non or Phee (to mention a few) because he’s always had a very central part of the story.

Conclusion

Is Jin a flat character? Absolutely not.

Could he have been developed more (at least up until the 11th episode that we’ve seen)? Yes. Just like White and Top.

(I saw somewhere that someone commented that Sammon had said that her regret was not having developed Jin more, but this is just hearsay, so take it with a pinch of salt.)

But do we need Jin to be more developed? Not really.

We don’t need a full-length backstory for every character to understand them. I believe that characters should be able to stand by their actions without needing a backstory to explain them. And that’s exactly the case with Jin.

He doesn’t need a sob story to make him feel human, like, for example, Por (even though I really, really, really don’t want to admit that Por has, a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty, microscopical sliver of humanity in him). Jin doesn’t need a fully developed backstory like Tee because he wasn’t the kind of asshole Tee was (even though Jin’s mistake was big too). Jin’s actions and motivations are shown through the character itself rather than told through the backstory.

Just because your expectations of a character weren’t met doesn’t mean they’re flat or badly written. Just because you want Jin to have a bigger role doesn’t mean he has a small one. Just because you want to see more of Jin’s backstory doesn’t mean he’s underdeveloped if you don’t get more. Just because you aren’t explicitly told/shown Jin’s backstory and reasons for doing what he does doesn’t mean it’s not there. Sometimes you just have to read between the lines.

Because it is there.

[choco-court]

SONIC AS DRAGONS UPDATE

Choco's not done with the drawing but pur's too excited to wait to be done. If Choco has an audience here, some of you may remember a few months ago when Choco was fighting for purr fucking life trying to draw Sonic characters as dragons. Just absolutely It's so over and We so back! for like two or three straight days. The bottom line is it's going much better this time!

And Choco can't wait to show it off so here's some notes about the design decisions as they stand, to build anticipation for the art!:

Sonic: Choco is going Full Noodle. He is a noodle with big BIG wings! He scrunches up like a spring and bounces around with brief bursts of power from his wings to maneuver and build momentum in Eggman's bases! He'll probably have the largest wing-to-body ratio of the cast (if not straight wingspan) And you bet he goes full sunbathing snake too.

Choco put a part here about the attempts at designing Sonic and everyone that got reaaally long pur accidentally deleted it too fuck so it's getting moved under a readmore. (A note. Large, broad wings actually lend themselves to static, sustained gliding much more than speed or agility. In this way it would make more sense to have Sonic built like a hummingbird. That being said: If Choco wanted Sonic to be an explosive little ball then pur has his standard design. Choco Wants Dragons.)

Tails: He was unusually small when Sonic met him as a hatchling, but even now he's barely gotten bigger. As it is, his wings are too small to fly, so instead he uses his small size and prehensile tail to crawl underground and in the guts of egg bases; keeping up with his friends by completely bypassing the obstacles they have to deal with, and sabotaging them too.

Shadow: He has four wings!! Choco put his weird spiky spiral symbol on his wings! Choco doesn't have much to say about him but he looks so cool so far Choco promises. U will see. His having four wings doubles as both making him look more alien compared to everyone else, and pays homage to a friend of Choco's favorite HTTYD dragon, this friend is also fond of Shadow (:

General musings on the making of these deigns:

Some poorly connected tangents about the making of these guys:

The first time around, Choco just couldn't find any traction with Sonic, when pur thought it was going somewhere, new logistical holes would open. Sonic ended up kind of a microcosm of the challenges of trying to turn the sth designs into the dragons Choco wanted. All of the mobians have very large heads, hands, and feet, but Choco's preferred dragons taper at the ends, which leaves all of their most prominent features small and crowded on the dragons: Sonic was especially challenging because -Choco has been learning- Sonic's design in particular relies on his silhouette to feel like Sonic. While the other characters, who were designed to look in-line with Sonic after the fact, get sorts of motifs to make them distinct from him. Like Tails' tails, and his techy/little kid vibe, Amy has her hammer and clothes, Shadow has his goth look (and is Sonic's literal Shadow and will always be visually defined by what ways he does and doesn't look like Sonic. And he has his cool edgyness (genuinely. Shadow is SO COOL)) Sonic is a little bit the Everyman of sth design.

A seperate tangent on the making of Tails: Choco didn't make it past the doodle phase with Tails the first time. What with all of the cast suddenly being able to fly, Choco had a hard time thinking of ways to preserve his unique utility with the wider cast. Choco tried giving him two tails again and no wings, which just looked too weird, and he looked too much like a normal cartoon fox. Now he gets to stay unique in a similar vein as canon, with a fun prehensile tail to justify his nickname and use for inventions (: Funnily enough, Choco actually hasn't properly drawn him this time either yet, but now Choco has a sturdy conceptual base to start on, so it will go much smoother, hopefully.

Shadow's design was fun in that Choco had all the ideas pur needed right away, the trouble was execution. Specifically of the color blocking verity. It just. took waaay too long to figure out how to put color on him in a way that made anything clear. Eventually Choco sucked it up and put some bigger splashes of red on him instead of puny little stripes on the edges, and it cleared right up. Choco still wants to experiment with his body type tho, pur keeps making him a bit bulkier then everyone else but pur wonders if that's strictly necessary.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Fine. I need mutuals to lose my sanity with so I give you my Hazbin Hotel hcs based off my OCs.

Please I am so fucking abnormal about my OCs and would love to elaborate on them any time!!! Please if you want specifics about their interactions with their respective partner or character sheets (I cant draw vivzie style good and I have some generic AI art of them I refuse to post it because I don't believe in using ai art for anything other than private use. I paid money for the one that's my profile pic cuz its my dnd character.)

Vox with a big tiddy goth girlfriend reader. Short, chubby, v insecure. Also feral adhd gremlin who copes with dark humor. Makes Vox's ADHD worse. They give each other vocal stims. Call and response echolalia. Vox is constantly assaulted by memes now. Honesly they bring out the inner goblin in each other but it's fine cuz it helps Vox unwind and emotionally regulate finally. She's bi too so anytime Vox (who canonically is more into men) finds a guy he likes they can totally bring him in for a threesome. She leans towards women so it goes both ways. She's a sub for women but tops for men (especially Vox's bratty ass).

Alastor with a skinny non binary autistic person. People mistake them for a twink. Some days they're more fem cuz they want to be pretty. Usually anxious, quiet, enjoys reading and listening to Alastor's music or radio static. Then you get them to unmask and they're a barely stable perpetually exhausted creature thriving off of caffeine and memes. Alastor adores their chaos and listening to them ramble. Appreciates they try to find modern culture he'd relate to and enjoy. They spend time co-existing to bond, doing their own thing next to each other. No pressure to initiate intimacy or anything other than friendship. Autistic person gets a lot of Alastor's sensory ick (esp about touch) without being nosy and just accepts their murder gremlin radio friend. (Accidental platonic partners).

Valentino getting a fucking therapist (he needs one. I see the bi-polar theory and as some one who worked with bipolar people I can see it but he could just be a terrible person). That therapist having two main personalities after death (based on a book a read where a person's ghost was split into two people from before and after their trauma). Both are qualified therapists. One's a 2000s emo boy who's esthetic is Laughing Jack. Except plot twist they're from the south (based on a kid I knew in high school). Puts Vox in his place more often than not by just tying him up and whisking him away to have his tantrums in private (they probably [definitely] fucked.) Tough love kinda but in a way that actuall forces Valentino to confront his issues and deal with it. The other is basically if Harley Quinn got a Homestuck Trickster design. Very sweet. Very blunt. Chaos incarnate. Elaborately finds ways to put Valentino in situations that make him uncomfortable so he has to deal with them and then pavloving him with candy or sex when he's a good person. They're both helping in their own way because now Valentino has to think about his actions, emotionally regulate, and is rewarded for good behavior. The whole dynamic is cute and sexy but also kinda twisted.

Plot twist, Alastor's accidental QPR, Vox's chaos thicc witch, and the unhinged therapy duo are all besties from when they were alive and it means Vox and Alastor have to be civil to each other cuz their partners are friends and they don't wanna upset them.

Bonus points cuz they make friends with Angel and Angel gets to watch two candy themed clowns walk his boss's ass like a dog.

Lucifer gets the AUDHD diagnosis he didn't know he needed ("oh, that's what's wrong with me"), lots of comfort and validation, and a healthy dose of therapy as well.

[andromeda-galaxy2877]

Here's little scene I wrote for this drawing my friend made! (Don't forget, if you vote for Life Goes On in the @tmntaucompetition and it wins at least once, I'll write a fanfic entirely in Pinky's POV! Aren't you at all curious about her backstory? About how her mind works? Keep an eye out for Life Goes On, and you can find out!

Go check out that post, and the rest of their account! They also post art on instagram under the same name, their art is AMAZING as you can see! @latersgayt0rs

A chill encompassed the stagnant air; there was no wind here. Everything was still, silent.

So hauntingly quiet. 

It put Leo’s every sense on edge; he would occasionally make a soft sound in the back of his throat just to be sure he could still hear. He would be awed that his hearing aids had survived the unknown length of time he’d spent in this hellscape - especially considering everything that had happened to him in it - but he felt nothing but confidence in his twin’s capabilities. He would be more surprised if they did break.

Leo let out another soft, near-silent chirp in the back of his throat. The little shape at his side huffed in annoyance and butted her head into his hip, nearly throwing him off balance. Leo rolled his eyes at the Krang hound, lifting his hand that wasn’t occupied with his makeshift spear to sign, “Sorry.”

Pinky huffed again, letting out a low rumble. Leo interpreted it as forgiveness, gently patting the top of her head.

The two of them continued their aimless trek through the Prison Dimension. They moved beyond the wall of rock and scrap metal at last, revealing an eerie view of the sea of darkness. The sky was gray and grainy- almost like static. And painful to look at for too long. Amongst the darkness were long-abandoned, broken down Krang ships and mechs. Torn apart in their brethren’s desperate urge for sustenance. 

Leo paused, facing the view quietly. Pinky walked in a circle a few times beside him, kicking up dust until she finally settled. The hound sat down, looking up at him as she awaited his next move.

But Leo couldn’t move. All he could do was stare out into that hopeless darkness, a blank feeling of despair rocketing through his heart. Even after all this time, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to it.

The loneliness.

He glanced down at the shape at his side once more. Sure, he had Pinky; she was the best thing that had happened to him since he’d gotten trapped here. Her insistence on befriending him had saved his life, in more than a few different ways.

And yet…

…Yet he couldn’t help but miss them. The figures etched on the paper he kept safely protected in his cloak.

His family. 

He felt the familiar sting of sorrow, knowing he would never see them again.

…Unknowing of the Key being placed into a port a world away.

[telesodalite]

Really slogging through this month creativity-wise, so... uhhhh??? Various scavengers headcanons in no particular order??

Putting them below in case it gets too long 👁👁👍

-

: Misfire has freakishly good handwriting. He won't say why, claiming it's just pure talent or something, but in truth it's because he spent most of his academy days stuck in some form of detention writing rules, regulations, and flight calculations over and over again until some form of perfect standard academic print became muscle memory as a side effect.

: Misfire also has an uncanny ability to mimic people's voices and various sounds. Lots of time to kill throughout his life led to some odd talents. Can't hit a high note to save his life though.

: Speaking of high notes, Krok is mildly sensitive to loud noises. Being on the frontlines for most of the war left him with an on and off again tinnitus. Certain loud noises trigger it, causing his audials to glitch and statically ring with feedback.

: Both Krok and Crankcase suffer from the occasional migraine, with Krok's being more akin to a silent migraine, and Crankcase's being more severe and frequent due to the head trauma.

: Krok has a habit of collecting old personal logs and journals from the abandoned bases and stations they pick through. They have no value, but it mattered to someone once, and their perspectives and experiences are recorded within. He's not sure what he's going to do with all of them, but he often finds himself reading through their words again and again.

: Spinister is often incredibly quiet despite his size, and frequently unintentionally sneaks up on everyone. The mix of his controlled footfalls, and softer way of speaking, (outside of stressful moments at least), have led to the others nearly jumping out of their own frames when he seemingly just pops up behind them to ask a question or check-in.

: This quietness makes Spinister an incredibly scary opponent in close-quarters, as at any moment he could slink around a corner, and next thing you know, there's a rotor blade protruding through your chest. As you bleed out, he finally makes noise by loudly, and cheerily proclaiming he "got one!' :D

: Krok is also a fairly tough opponent in close-quarters. While he's skilled in a range of weaponry, mostly shotguns and sidearms, it's when he doesn't have range that things can get brutal. Think martial arts meets some sort of nightmare soccer strategy with a knife. Lots of broken legs and shattered kibble as he brings opponents down to his level, or rather, the floor.

: Post-war though, Krok often gets caught in a flashback, and sort of checks out during or after the fight. Especially at the sight or sound of any spinal breaking or tearing, he'll freeze and has to be pulled back to safety until he's with them again.

: Despite how much he tried, and still tries, to become something of a marksman, Misfire would honestly do better with hand-to-hand. His previous instructors and leaders knew this, and sorta kinda hoped he would pursue it for the sake of actually being useful during grounded combat. But nah, its not what he wants to do. Until he's forced to at least, then he's a menace who has no qualms with playing dirty. Only problem is his lack of training, which more often than not ends up biting him in the aft.

: Krok also sees Misfire's potential, but trying to teach him any legitimate strategy goes nowhere. Usually during sparring, Misfire taunts Krok into dropping any strategy himself, pissing him off to the point they're both beaten and bloody and heaving on the floor, because Misfire won't back down, and Krok is still very competitive at his core. It's a good way to blow off some steam tho, even if no one is learning anything from it.

: Crankcase hates close combat, and greatly prefers a comfortable distance in any situation. Fulcrum would probably rather kiss an organic than willingly put himself in close-quarters with someone trying hurt or kill him. So sparring isn't really much of an interest to either of them. Crankcase pulls the medical exemption card when asked, and Fulcrum tried every excuse when the others attempted to teach him something. Ultimately he was tossed into a few sparring lessons whether he liked it or not. A few kicks and one hell of a punch from Krok, a couple enthusiastic tackles and strangleholds from Misfire, and one very scary attempt to escape Spinister only to end up on the floor in seconds, and he quickly reconsidered self-defense.

: On the topic of floors, Fulcrum is quite the architectural nerd, and greatly enjoys getting to freely explore and pick around through abandoned bases and colonies. While the decline in Decepticon style and grand structural flair post-empire is disappointing, and frankly a lost art in his eyes, he still finds the more practical run-of-the-mill bases and structures just as fascinating, and can and will ramble on about the materials and structural details. Finding remaining blueprints is a rare and exciting achievement that no one else but him really appreciates :(

: Misfire, despite being all for their whole scavenging thing, isn't terribly keen on the whole exploring abandoned places angle of their work. He's not terribly claustrophobic, like most fliers, but certain spaces send a chill up his spine. Something about a place that should be full of noise and life sitting empty and quiet just doesn't sit right with him. Add a hint of his neither here nor there superstitious beliefs, and half of these derelict places might as well be haunted or cursed. Fulcrum finds this incredibly amusing, because, psh, its just an empty building? There's literally no rational thing to be scared of, like organics, or pirates, or killer plants, or blood walls, or small organics, or Autobots, or bugs, or wooden frames, or big organics, or the DJD, or ceiling brains, or cops, or- etc etc. So, get over it, lol. They all think it's weirdly hypocritical tho, since Misfire tends to be the most casually morbid. Totally chill with dead people, just not "dead" spaces. Perfectly fine on the remains of a battlefield, hates being near an actual tomb.

: Crankcase sometimes hangs back from scavenging trips, either making some excuse about fixing something on the ship or not feeling well, just so he can work on a small collection of handmade starship models he's been making from scrap in secret. He's a little embarrassed about it, hence the secrecy, but it's a hobby that brings him a lot of joy. Cons4eva was the first person he showed them to, and after some encouraging feedback, he showed the others, and was a little taken aback and suprised when the rest of the scavs found his creations really impressive and neat.

: After that, sometimes the others would buy or steal actual models from markets and such to bring Crankcase. Misfire is usually the one stealing things, but it was Fulcrum who somehow pocketed and made off quietly with a very rare and expensive model he remembered being a favorite of Crankcase's.

: Generally they all apply the five finger discount approach to shopping. But Misfire and Spinister are the best at it, with Misfire being very good at causing a distraction, and Spinister just naturally having a habit of quietly picking stuff up as he goes along. Krok sometimes overthinks it too much, Fulcrum almost always hesitates, and Crankcase just doesn't often care enough to try.

: Misfire isn't allowed to go out shopping alone tho since the incident...

: Spinister also isn't really allowed to go shopping alone, but for reasons not relating to stand-offs with local law enforcement. He always forgets the list, and just comes back with random items that caught his attention, some paid for some stolen. He bought a giant alien squirrel once. It "disappeared" not long after, much to his disappointment, but everyone else knew Fulcrum left the cargobay door open on purpose.

: Krok and Fulcrum shopping together is simultaneously as efficient as it gets and also pointlessly drawn out. They're going to argue about something inane while going over what goes on their strict list of necessities, then be in and out of the store casually and without any trouble or unnecessary purchase. Consider stopping for lunch afterward, argue over where to eat, then have a pleasant vaguely gossip-y lunch, and then have another argument about the directions getting back to the W.A.P. "Maybe we should stop and ask for directions.", and "We have a perfectly good map, we don't need directions." can go either way depending on their moods.

: That said, Krok and Fulcrum get into a lot of very pointless arguments, for reasons Fulcrum can't pinpoint and Krok doesn't care to disclose. Fulcrum tries to deescalate more often than not, but after a certain amount of snide remarks, he gets very petty about it. Unfortunately Krok is yet again, still competitive, and will dethrone any reigning monarch of pettiness that day if his hand is forced. This is entertaining to everyone but Fulcrum. Don't dare try and interrupt tho, or you'll get caught in the crossfire. Spinister tried to mediate once... it went poorly. Misfire likes to make it worse tho >:)

: Personally, Spinister does not like to argue, and if he finds himself in a heated argument or verbal fight, he'll just straight up leave. Without a word, just up and gone. Won't bring it up either, might as well have never happened. This is simultaneously a blessing and a curse for everyone else.

: Misfire likes to argue, or rather, he likes to debate. Especially about random topics, just for the hell of it. Spinister doesn't tolerate it, Krok will humor it occasionally, Crankcase sometimes plays along also for the hell of it, and Fulcrum sorta missed the whole "for the hell of it" part, and will legitimately debate back because wtf do you mean "is cereal soup?"!?

: Out of the whole group, only Misfire and Fulcrum can really "cook", in the sense that they're the only two capable of making more than one thing from scratch. But, they cook very differently, and the kitchen can become very hectic if they're cooking together.

: Fulcrum is more the type to follow a recipe to the T, very precise with each measurement, and careful with all the cheaper additives and "recycled ingredients" they have to work with. He likes a challenge, but he's also not particularly adventurous, so he doesn't stray too far from the basics. That way it's almost therapeutic, just following a recipe, and going through the motions. He tends to clean as he goes, figuring that just makes it easier for him after he's done. Getting the first bite or best of whatever he's made is obviously a justifiable reward for that effort.

: Misfire on the other hand, is the type to throw whatever tastes good in a pot or pan and somehow make something miraculously edible out of it all. Recipe-smeshipe, it's all about flavor and texture for him. You measure with your spark and your tank. The sweeter or spicier or both, the better. Food is a journey in his opinion, the newer and weirder the neater. If you see an optic float to the top of your bowl, awesome, lucky you! He uh, totally intended to put that in there... totally. Oh, and don't ask what's in the drink, you don't want to know. The kitchen looks like a warzone when he's done, and he's probably not going to clean it.

: Put them in the kitchen at the same time? You'll probably get a very decent dinner and desert, but it's going to take a bit before there's something to put on the table. Outside of the times Fulcrum has chased Misfire out with a kitchen knife and an actually decent aim, and that one time Misfire wasted a whole cake by shoving Fulcrum's face in it, it's mostly just a whole lot of bickering and minor food fights before they put their heads together and compromise. It's a rare occurrence, but also very worth it for everyone else.

: Spinister can't cook, but he can dice and slice like a pro. Krok can make like, one thing from scratch, and that's it, that's his thing, his one thing, but he's good at it. Crankcase just doesn't want to cook, he's fine living off their equivalent of coffee, beer, and ibuprofen.

: The temperature control of the W.A.P is caught in a silent war between them all. Krok and Fulcrum naturally run cold, Fulcrum more so than Krok due to a predominantly hollow frame, so a warmer temp is more comfortable. But Misfire and Spinister run warm, very warm in Misfire's case, so cooler is better. Crankcase could go either way, so he enjoys hijacking the thermostat just to mess with the others whenever he likes it. Ultimately the W.A.P itself is winning the war though, since it resets itself on a whim outside of anyone's control.

: Grimlock isn't participating in the "war", but due to his poor bodily control early on, he fluctuates wildly between being very cool and very warm, and is an unfortunate victim caught in the crossfire -_-

: Outside of the Captain's quarters, most of their rooms weren't originally bedrooms/bunkrooms.

: Misfire's room used to be the ship lab, but he converted half of it to be his quarters and the other half for collecting and mixing the energon they've scavenged. It's like if a circus, a frat room, a butcher shop, and a osha violation of a laboratory got turned into a bedroom. There's colorful string lights hanging from the walls, and an cracked TV that's always on in the corner, sometimes with music playing at the same time. He shoved two berths together and covered them in thick worn cushions and various mismatching pillows. The remaining lab holds glowing canisters full of various organs, with drip lines spiderwebbing haphazardly across them into portable vats. Vials of energon and other various bodily fluids fill the spaces between. Depending, sometimes a partial corpse is resting on the lab counter, only halfway siphoned and emptied of it's internals before Misfire got distracted from working.

: Crankcase's used to be a storage room, but he's converted it into both a sleeping quarters and a workshop. While he often just works and repairs things in the cargobays for convenience, anything requiring more attention or precision ends up in his room. Tools and soon-to-be repurposed junk alike hang from the walls, and shelves and the floor are lined and cluttered with even more parts and pieces. It's very work focused, but there's a poster or two here and there, a small radio to keep up with what's going on in whatever sector there in, and the box of starship models shoved underneath his berth. The berth itself is fairly simple, worn cushions, just enough pillows to keep his helm protected, and a thin blanket in case he gets cold.

: Spinister technically has a room, one of the few rooms that had originally been a bunkroom, but he never really did anything with it ouside of simply shoving as many berth together to sleep on. More often he just sleeps in the medbay instead of dragging himself to "his" room. Other times he just sleeps in Krok's room, because the captain's quarters has the biggest not-shoved-together berth on the ship, and with Krok barely using it himself due to raging insomnia, Spinister's not letting those nice cushions and padding go to waste.

: The captain's quarters probably used to be nicer, neater, and more spacious, back when the W.A.P was just an Autobot exploration vessel, but Krok has filled as much of the space as possible with an overflowing desk, crates full of their most precious/expensive cargo, multiple crowded bookcases, a small personal arsenal, a secret cooler he had Crankcase install after one too many stolen drinks, and that large cozy berth that everyone but him seems intent on sleeping on.

: Like Crankcase, Fulcrum also ended up taking an old storage room, as the idea of taking Flywheels' room just didn't feel right. But besides the desk he maintains for working at and storing personal items in, and his berth, shoved in corner and piled high with padding and pillows, the rest of the room is still used for storage and organization of salvageable technology and more delicate items that he and Crankcase trade back and forth between their rooms to each repair and work on. On the days he's losing the thermostat war, he's got a small heater he runs to keep the chill out. A cold room reminds him too much of Styx, so nice and toasty it is. Keeping it toasty also has the added benefit of warding off Misfire from interrupting his work.

: None of them have particularly healthy or "normal" sleeping habits, mostly due to inconsistent energy and energon levels, but also for a range of reasons.

: During longer trips from sector to sector with no stops and little fuel, they all sort of enter a vaguely hibernating state of fuel conservation. Which just means they nap on and off again for most of the trip.

: All of them suffer from nightmares, but Crankcase also gets sleep paralysis, and Krok and Fulcrum have night terrors.

: Krok's insomnia probably wouldn't be as bad as it is, if it weren't for him making it worse by actively choosing not to sleep until absolutely necessary. He hates the fear and confusion of night terrors, and struggles with rumination while trying to sleep. So, he pushes himself until his body almost shuts down for him. This concerns everyone, but particularly Spinister and Fulcrum.

: Spinister sleepwalks and sleeptalks. Sometimes coherently enough none of them can tell that he's actually asleep unless he wakes up mid-sentence or falls over. Mostly he just comes into someone else's room and stands silently over them, before either waking up or wandering off to curl up somewhere not made for sleeping to keep sleeping.

: Misfire just sleeptalks, both quietly and loudly, about any and every topic imaginable. Often incoherently, but sometimes not, other times it's basically a confessional slew of things the others usually silently agree on not bringing up when Misfire's awake again.

: They're all restless, either physically, mentally, or both, and struggle with falling asleep unless utterly exhausted. But once asleep, they each have different ways of sleeping.

: Fulcrum always curls up, which isn't great for his shoddily replaced joints, but it's a hard habit to beat.

: Krok tries to sleep on his side, but usually ends up on his stomach despite how instinctually wrong it feels to leave his back "unguarded".

: Spinister is either splayed out or curled up, rarely any in-between.

: Crankcase usually sleeps like he's in a casket, and often looks the part.

: Misfire shifts and moves so much it's probably a miracle he hasn't pulled or torn his own wings by accident.

-

So, wow, huh, it got long lol. But also I'm tired, so, yeah, that's good enough for now perhaps. Might do more later, since these are like, very basic ones, and it definitely didn't cover much with Flywheels, Grimlock, Nickel, and any others. But I'll get to those later. Probably. Hopefully.

Mostly doing this for myself tho, just to compile a bunch of random notes in one place. But if y'all read this far, cool <3

Also, if you see some and think, hmm, that sounds familiar? Yeah, probably is. Picked up a lot from fics and others ideas, and it all just sorta ended up in my garbled notes to save as inspiration for fics or drawing at some point. So, it's here now too, and that probably goes for any possible future hc posts as well.

If you see any that sound vaguely like yours, or are something you've thought of before, or aren't listed here at all, then I love you, you're brilliant, tell me more of your hcs pls and thank you <333

[offshore-brinicle]

That was one hell of a part 2 good lordy. I have SO many thoughts but I cannot put all into words for now, here's some though.

Dante is being real quiet [sus especially after how much they talked in canto 5, plus how they seemed seemed realise that they need to actually take part in helping the sinners proper] and they are [seemingly] the only sinner one could connect to Carmen [literally all of the chirstian symbolism, the way the static on her appearances was similar to the static Dante has seen on AFD and their overheating, the fact she seemed to speak through them at that point]. I am probably just reading into things but after the whiplash of how much they usually talk - internally and externally - I am very much getting a sinking feeling something's wrong.

Basements are evil. Hong Lu is rich enough to have a basement in his houses. He will probably have an evil basement. I would bet money on this, especially if its a sort of 'other world' as alluded to in his book (that I have not read. It does mention a Land of Illusion if i recall, however, so possibly a door to that). Bonus points if it ends up being upside down or smth.

Would the 'chaotic' part of the golden bough ( of 'em at least) have any sorta relation to why we Heath's E.G.O seemed unstable? I know most of the other distortions/E.G.O awakenings happened near boughs - which connects to the theory that they are directly related to Carmen and thus allow her to talk to people more easily like with the monolith - either Dante's fragment or a full one, but the specific mention of a chaotic one could mean it's responsible for Bodysack seeming to have corroded, as one can see the warning labels typical of a corroding E.G.O.

Given Faust's change in behaviour - namely stuttering for what I believe to be the first time - regarding the conversations around the 'creation of humans' I do believe this was how she was made. Yi Sang did say he made the tech used within the pods in that very basement, and the fact that he was the first recruit could mean that the Faust who approached him is not the same Faust on the bus. The idea of her being a metric fucktonna ID's layered on top of each other firstly explains the Council of Fausts theory, wherein she is able to talk to other versions of herself, in this case because that's what she is, as well as what Dante says about her looking somewhere else before answering. Mirrors alter perception, so her looking at a different Faust for answers could explain that as well. Work's too with her base E.G.O, wherein three shadows seem to point out an answer on her wall of notes. She has all the knowledge, she just needs her other selves to point it out when needed - thus her evasive attitude when it comes to answers, she needs time to get it pointed out.

On that note, do you think her attitude in Selva Obscura is a reflection of og!Faust, but she drops the act later on once Dante has fully forgotten their past? She doesn't really get that jokey after that.

Like how the middle seemed to be the antithesis of Ishmael in C5 part 2, the ring seems to be Heath's. The middle represented how Ishy as a person was mostly incompatibility with 'the bit', in the form of a situation that is remarkably silly on paper but ended up in near total annihilation of the group. The ring may represent how some may look for deeper meanings in all things from arts to people, which clashes wickedly against Heathcliff's more straightforward approach when it comes to handling situations. The dredges of the ring are those parts of him that overthink and he solves the problem as simply as he's been solving many others.

Cathy in a Coffin reminds me of when Carmen was content enough to haunt the narrative from her Bucket. Nothing else to say here except for the fact it's funny.

But back to Carmen, and more particularly 'fate' regarding distortions. The theme of denying of what 'should've happened' is a decently big theme of limbus - from the rewinding death to even subverting what happens from any literary source material - so if they end up going 'Carmen no Carming' to her later on, defying someone who seems to be as much of a god-like entity as the Head in some ways, I would not be surprised if we either get a visit from Iori, one of Demian's lot or another Lo9 member - x or current. Additionally, defying fate may just be what brings back Heathcliff from the edge, keeping Cathy alive in this mirror world but presumably in a weird weirdass way. My guess is that she distorts and gets nabbed by LCD - but I also just wanna see Moses so.

Also hey what happened to the seven strikes of lightning. Are they gonna be in Heath's distortion dungeon or something? No clue.

And I think that's it. Gonna stare at a wall for a while now methinks

OK SO FIRST UP THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS HERE SO I'LL TRY TO ANSWER TO THESE CONCISELY

Now that you mentioned it, it was always very strange how Faust is Number 2 despite being there first and her mugshot having already been in uniform, so now that you mention her different attitude in the Prologue I honestly see a lot to what you are bringing up here. It was always a personal theory of mine that Faust's real "Mephistopheles" was Sang Yi or Yi Sang somehow, since Sang Yi still to seems to be a rather...odd entity that doesn't correspond to any particular mirror world and is implied by Yi Sang to have some degree of omniscience (and there's also that marked part in the dungeon where he "mysteriously dissapeared" for some time with no explanation), so she might have gotten Yi Sang to do the procedure that would give her this infinite knowledge, specially since even Yi Sang himself emphasizes on her having been "gifted" with omniscience, I Highly doubt he's being figurative here, even more with her EGO's background being the shadows of multiple people.

In regards to Dante not speaking I think it's simply because of the difference in situation, unlike Ishmael who was very clearly out of control due to her own mindset, Heathcliff is being driven over the edge by circumstance -- and some quite insane circumstances at that, so it might be why they could not intervene, but hopefully they'll step up when we get to the next part, specially since we'll be dealing with Distorted Heathcliff....and also, it's very interesting that we actually got Heathcliff's POV on how it felt to Distort. It might be Dante's connection to Carmen and The Sinners aligning at once.

And also, Catherine is def a Carmen expy (I actually did my own analysis some time ago in similarities Kromer, Ahab and Dongbaek had with Carmen too but this one is the most. Insanely explicit similarity) and the fact that she speaks to "Welcome Heathcliff home" at the very end in her own voice alongside Carmen...I can't help but feel she might have been planning to get Heathcliff to Distort all along as part of her personal plan that they can be together happy in Hell. The Overclocking symptoms seem to have been an indicator of Heathcliff approaching Distortion, I really like how...drastically different it feels from the awakened Crow's Eye View and Snagharpoon, and just in general how they completely threw the formula that had been built up until now out of the window (heh)

Either way, thanks for shooting me a message! It's always fun to get to hear other people's observations and theories and share my own two cents along the way

Edit: I forgor but frankly if Hong Lu has yet another Creepy Rich Person basement I think I'll bash my head against the wall. The real moral of Limbus is that basements are bad and evil. Sorry there are just So many good observations here and I'm a bit scatterbrained at times shfhh

In regards to the "fate" thing, I feel like that will be a big part of dealing with Heathcliff next part, Limbus Company as a game and story is built on the reimaginings or "what ifs" or classics, and we've seen it with Yi Sang that his ending was changed in the end; the original Yi Sang died and the protagonist of The Wings commits suicide, but he rejected all of that, while Ishmael was on her path to repeat the cycle of the story of Moby Dick but thanks to Dante and Heathcliff she rejected that as well. And the title of "Clear All Cathy" really establishes from the first moment the goal this time. We'll have to wait another week to see how it rolls.

[avasghost]

FOREIGN BIRDS: WIP INTRO

its finally here. the new wip. i haven't made a wip intro since i started ested in like june 2021 and i honestly forgot how this works but i'll try my best to make it coherent.

first thing i should clarify for those of you who didn't see this post, this used to be @/rowansghost, but i started using the name silas instead, so that's why my url looks shitty now.

TW: suicide, addiction, death, grief, manslaughter, ghosts

disclaimer: this is my original work. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.

genre: literary fiction

time period/setting: 1970s, somewhere in canada, small coastal town

projected word count: 50k

pov: first person retrospective referral (with shifts into present)

plot/concept: foreign birds follows 22-year-old martin, who drops out of college and decides to move back to his hometown after accidentally killing his best friend, gabriel. he never wanted to go back to his hometown again, but decides to stay when he meets rainey, who he ends up moving in with, while all the time he's harbouring his secret and hoping he doesn't become a suspect for gabriel's death. the story is told from the pov of his ghost after he kills himself, when he returns to haunt rainey's house. it is his apology to her, where he tells her all the things he never said and all the things he'll never be able to.

aesthetics/vibes: dusky blue light, house parties, smoking a cigarette in the bathtub, neon lights, bruises, ceramic dishes, a quiet apartment, a damask carpet, tv static, soft yellow porch light, playing records, medication bottles, the halo of a streetlight, rosary beads, humming powerlines, a box of matches, a living room full of birds in cages, red wine, thinking you see an angel, neon diner signs, pulpy orange juice, a buzzing ceiling fan, disco light, the orange cast of a lampshade, empty church pews, the scent of a lit match, pale yellow kitchen tiles, blue veins, jittery radio voices, sitting at the kitchen table at 2am, motel rooms, laundromats, cigarette burns, refrigerator light

CHARACTERS

i have several characters planned for this book but i'm not quite sure how they'll play into the story yet, so i'm just going to include the most relevant three for the sake of your attention span.

martin

22

intj, enneagram 3w4

photographer

slightly long dark brown hair, light brown eyes, 5'11, very skinny, pale, fashionable, wears sunglasses a lot

kind of narcissistic, will manipulate people for his own gain

actually cares a lot about rainey and struggles between choosing her or choosing himself, like he's used to

charming, emotionally detached, manipulative, secretive, obsessive, independent, intelligent, loyal only to a few specific people

burnt out gifted kid, has been called a waste of potential

likes going to parties despite being very introverted

considers himself above other people due to their neglect for him growing up, feels like he deserves better and especially did when he was a child, and that he doesn’t need them because he’s grown superior and now he can retaliate by using them before they use him

in a downward spiral that eventually ends in his suicide

rainey

23

entp, enneagram 8w7

journalist

long red hair with bangs, dark brown eyes, 5'3, dresses like she's richer than she is

assertive, innovative, outgoing, autonomous, outspoken, stubborn, passive-aggressive, confrontational

a lot more successful than martin

trying to support martin and help him get better, knows he doesn't tell her as much as he pretends to, doesn't find out his secrets until the night before his suicide

obsessed with tropical birds, has several birds in cages in her living room, cares for them more than she cares for most people

also has a cat

gabriel

22

martin's best friend/boyfriend (but it’s the 70s so nobody knows about that) who he accidentally killed

infp, enneagram 4w5

art student

dead in the fictive present, but is a very prominent character in flashbacks

curly black hair, dark skin, light brown eyes, 5'9

not very developed yet, i'll probably get more details for his character when i start writing his scenes

and that's what i have for this so far! i actually started writing this book a few days ago, and am ~1000 words in wish me luck. i still haven't decided if i'm going to do writing updates for this book, but i think i will since it's not supposed to be that long, so i can maybe post one every 5-10k words. that is as long as i remember to, which is unlikely based on my history of promising writing updates that never arrive.

the end

— silas

wip taglist (i just have one for all my wips, ask to be added/removed): @flip-phones @chewingthescenery @ghostsofmemories @dallonwrites @wildswrites @annlillyjose @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @teaandtypewriters @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons @writing-is-a-martial-art @childhoodlovers @zoya-writes @pepperdee @oceancold @unorganisedbookshelf @musingsbycaitlin @sunstone-iolite @femmeniism @raywritesstories @rodentwrites @cheerfulmelancholies @these-starrynights

[gamebunny-advance]

Sus.

I just need to get this story off my chest because it's been bothering me since it happened. It's nothing really relevant to what I usually post or anything that's happened here, so feel free to skip this "story" if the subject matter offends you.

Content Warning for minors in implied sexual situations.

So, Youtube likes to recommend cartoon review/analysis videos to me, even of shows I've never watched. Sometimes I watch them because I like watching people be passionate about any given subject.

But other times they can be a little cringe because it's still grown adults yelling about cartoons, ya know? I'm happy that they've got something they're passionate enough about to sink so much time and effort into a video, but that doesn't automatically make me share their enthusiasm, especially if it's coming from a place of a bad faith criticism.

For the most part, I just move on from videos that give that vibe, but I recently came across one that disturbed me in a way that no one in the comments was really pointing out because they were too busy agreeing with the sentiment that the cartoon in question was bad.

The video was about some reboot for Tiny Toon Adventures (I literally know nothing about it other than what the video told me, and at this point I'd rather not learn anything more about it).

The video had pretty high production values all things considered, with a lot of original animation and art, like actual lip-synching on the avatar and detailed backgrounds as opposed to the static sprites on single colored/patterned backgrounds I usually see among cartoon critics.

I didn't stay long enough for the credits or check the description, but presumably all the art was done by the speaker/creator. Due to this, I was impressed enough to stick around to see what he had to say. Generally speaking, you just don't put that amount of effort into something that you're not passionate about, and I'm here for the passion first and opinions second.

The first talking point was about how the show apparently changed the relationship between the lead characters, Babs and Buster Bunny, from friends/lovers to siblings. This was gotten across in the usual way of the speaker overacting how angry/shocked they are about what is honestly a mundane change in the grand scheme of things. This was turn-off number 1 because I don't find the "caustic critic" to be that funny, especially when it's in service to bad faith criticisms. But, that wasn't what really disturbed me.

What set off a red flag to me, was the "skit" that followed.

The speaker detailed a situation where children, illustrated as a young girl and young boy, who were fans of the new reboot would eventually go back and watch the original show and be corrupted due to them misunderstanding the characters' relationship as being incestuous. I thought that this point was heavily exaggerated (as bits of this nature tend to be), but it's still not what disturbed me.

What disturbed me was how one of the sight gags to illustrate this point was to show the children wearing character themed underwear.

I'm not saying the underwear was drawn as a separate prop that they were implied to be wearing. I mean that as a part of the gag, I was forced to briefly look at two children standing in their underwear for no good reason. And to get to that gag, the characters were first fully dressed in merch before revealing their underwear underneath.

So not only was I forced to look at two children standing in their underwear, but they were literally undressed in front of me to make that "joke".

And immediately following that, I'm also forced to look at the girl child wrapped up in a spiderweb about to be eaten by a giant spider to illustrate the point that the kids are now trapped in some sort of "mindweb" from the confusion.

So me, knowing that tying people in spiderwebs is an uncommon but real fetish, felt deeply uncomfortable by this scene occurring right after the children were shown half naked.

Like, I'm not accusing that creator of anything because none of this is proof of any wrongdoing or bad intention outside of the bad faith criticism of the show. But I will say that I was so disturbed by this that I literally couldn't watch the rest of the video, so I don't know if it got worse from there.

But to try and prove that I'm not trying to say this in bad faith, I'll grant a couple of "outs":

The children weren't drawn particularly realistically: they were stick figure-esque in comparison to the more detailed art in the rest of the video that I saw. If the artist really wanted to detail these children, they probably would have, so I don't believe the drawings were meant to be especially gratifying.

I also know that cartoon print underwear is a shorthand for the character wearing them to be obsessed with the cartoon on the underwear. It's literally a joke from the Spongebob Movie, so if this guy was old enough to have been a fan of the original Tiny Toons, then he probably would have been in the age range to watch that movie and internalize that joke (or seen it elsewhere in a different cartoon). So it's possible that he might not have considered the implications of showing a child in a similar situation.

Additionally, while I don't recall much of Tiny Toons, I know that it's one of those shows that while it's made for children/general audiences, has a lot of mature humor, so maybe he thought he was doing the same thing without considering the implications of what he'd done.

Which is basically the same justification as the last point, but really the only way I can imagine someone thinking any of that was okay is ignorance.

But your dear ol'Sammy has been around the block a few times. Even though I can easily make up reasons why all this could be completely innocent/accidental, I feel like I can tell the difference between someone who made an honest mistake, and someone that is incapable of hiding what they really are. And this is sadly falling under the latter.

I always hope that I'm wrong in situations like this. I hope that I'm just paranoid and there's no malice at play here because my goal is not to punish wrongdoing, it's to make sure that other people are safe. But I can't ignore a red flag once I see it, and it was driving me crazy that no one seemed to be acknowledging it.

I won't link the video here because I don't want it to spread around, but if you really want to seek it out, then I've probably given enough information for you to find it on your own and make your own judgement about it.