#I will post the completed art version of him soon

[huh-1260]

Heres a doodle of the mf who crash Ibispaint when i was drawing him

This mf crash my ibis so many times corrupted my art file for wars so many times

[myokk]

Hi! I'm still feral for these two, would you mind giving us some art of them in their later years together!?

Hello angel!!!!

Sorry it’s taken so long to respond🫶🫶 but I wanted to draw some new art for this ask💓

We have: Sebastian and Eloise trying out their new fancy camera with a selfie, pictures of them with their daughter, and finally…idk I just always felt like this drawing is when they’re a bit older💓

I want to take this ask as an opportunity as well to talk a little about how I imagine their future (I have no chill & you can ignore this and just enjoy the art if you want😇).

I am a COMPLETE pantser - I never know how a chapter’s going to end when I start writing it (I always just have a few scenes I know I need to include to keep the plot moving forward). Although I have different *big* scenes I’m always writing towards, and themes/plot elements I’m always foreshadowing (shout out to @elliecutte for catching *almost* all of my hints and appreciating my general no chill😆), IM STILL NOT 100% SURE HOW I WILL END THINGS !!! 😳 I have a lot of endings I see as possible, and I think soon it will become more clear to me what will work the best💓

HAPPY ENDING:

Eloise and Sebastian become Unspeakables. I have a LOT of thoughts on this profession that could be its OWN post, and I feel like Unspeakables are generally specialized in one or two departments, but as their interests/research change they also change.

Eloise becomes an Unspeakable in the Mind and Death departments, with the occasional foray into Time. Her ancient magic is connected with all of these things (my version of AM is NOT like the game) & the Department of Mysteries is one of the only places that gives her any useful information about these things. Plus she thinks too much (it IS her hobby after all😆💓) and is very introverted so a hermit job like this is a perfect fit.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable as well, but I feel like it takes him a long time to specialize in anything, if he ever does. I just feel like becoming an Unspeakable is the adult equivalent of sneaking into the Restricted Section🥹🫶

They grow old together (I won’t explain TOO much) & have a lovely little family🥹 at least one daughter that they both dote on. Sebastian had an amazing childhood (idyllic until it wasn’t), and wants to give his daughter the same, and Eloise works hard to make sure their daughter feels the love that she never had growing up🥺

When Sirius is burned off the family tree, Eloise and Sebastian take him in🥹🫶 (they’re like 100 years old but WIZARDS LIVE LONGER…) The same happened to her all those years ago, and she wants him to know that his whole family hasn’t abandoned him.

Eloise LOVED her nieces - Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa - when they were younger, but as Voldemort becomes more powerful & people realize WHAT he’s doing, she has to separate herself from them. Her heart breaks seeing Bellatrix go mad, and seeing Narcissa engaged to a Malfoy out of obligation😔 (iykyk)

I haven’t thought any more about happy ending but I think it’s fun to think about how their future story might weave in with the actual canon events, ESPECIALLY since Eloise is a Black🥹💓

SAD ENDING:

After Sebastian gets his hands on Slytherin’s relic, it really starts to consume him and makes him even MORE obsessive than his natural tendencies - I imagine it similarly “talking” to him like Slytherin’s locket/horcrux did in Deathly Hallows (😳)

Eloise is deathly afraid of the changes she’s seeing in Sebastian and steals it from him (he would never willingly give it to her ESPECIALLY if it starts to feel like a precious item to him)

BUT the relic triggers the latent Black Family Madness in her - the madness that afflicts almost every woman in her family since…🤭 - and she herself starts to lose touch with reality. Her body and soul are already destroying themselves between the curse and the ancient magic inside of her, and the relic is what triggers it in her.

Sebastian becomes an Unspeakable, focusing on the Mind, in a desperate attempt to find a cure for his Eloise🥺

He never gives up his research, and sometimes when he comes home she is lucid and they talk about his research - otherwise, he just loves and takes care of her.

(He’s never successful in finding a way to reverse what he feels he caused in the first place - his ambition and single-mindedness is, to him, the reason why all of this happened)

Honestly who knows if I end their story either of these ways😌 I just love thinking of AUs and different endings and I have a few others I’ve considered as well!!! And whatever endings I don’t write will be immortalized on this blog and in my art as well🙏

[metalheads-trash-bin]

THIS WILL BE THE LAST TROLLS POST I EVER MAKE.

First off, thank you to those of you that continued to show all the work I make love. Thank you for caring for my work other than Trolls.

Now, onto this post and my final statements about this fandom.

I joined the fandom late, I’d always technically been a part of it but never interacted until about a year or so ago through this site. Immediately I got interaction and a good amount of followers, a lot of people enjoying my work and wanting more.

That “wanting more” slowly became harassment as I got messages every day from a select few people commanding me to continue writing or making fanart. This slowly started to seep into me but was NOT the nail in the coffin. Even as i got handfuls of asks commanding more.

The nail was how the fandom handles abuse and abusers. I am a punk person, to those of you that know my Tiktok i post a LOT of punk content and have gained so much interaction. I am well known in a lot of communities and am even trying to advocate for the people that cant. It is BASE LINE respect to “always believe the victim”. Base line. Yet as soon as a very POPULAR and HIGHLY FOLLOWED creator who is being accused of abuse posts content back showing very explicit conversations and mental breakdowns to embarrass you into silence everyone FLOCKS to them. I had so many friends in this fandom, and as soon as i was publicly HUMILIATED by him for speaking out, i was being blocked. Some of the people i used to make fanart for and support are now people i look at with fear and disgust. This includes my fans, people who BETRAYED me and did not stand with me. Didnt QUESTION why all of a sudden I deleted everything?

Let me lay things out for you all, FINALLY. Since im fucking PISSED. He BLACKMAILED ME INTO SILENCE. He got his boyfriend to THREATEN ME. And when all was said and done as i was choking on my sobs? He kept the post UP. His post with THOUSANDS of views and comments saying disgusting things about me. Because no one gave a FUCK about the fact that me and my friend both came out about horrors when it came to him and his new boyfriend.

I am so disgusted and disappointed as to how my fans reacted to this all, i had even gotten a dm PRAISING ME for going back into silence. That broke my fucking heart.

Why am i bringing this up now? Because a multitude of his art for Fliff had had messages for me. Which NO ONE but me and my fiance knew about. Dictator barb? Message. Floyd saying insults to riff? Message. Are you all that illiterate to context of someones character? Did the INCEST HE PUT ON HIS TWITTER NOT SAY ANYTHING??? JD and his BROTHER having a threesome, completely naked said NOTHING? And when someone pointed it out he said he didnt give a shit.

No one gave a FUCK. I have so much dirt on one of his friends i used to ADORE that i will never utter even though he also fucking abandoned me because he knew him longer and believed i was the wailing banshee.

So overall, trolls fandom, get your FUCKING ACT STRAIGHT. About victims. And about context.

I am a HUMAN BEING. My callout was not something to laugh at and silence just because you like the PORN he draws.

He’s once again posting after i was able to get him to fuck off from this fandom for almost a year. The relief i felt for that year was bliss. And now? I can barely fucking breathe. Once again i feel trapped.

So FUCK YOU ALL.

Have a fucking ANGRY and HURT tw of self harm under this sentence.

Good riddance, Trolls fandom. This is the last i will utter a word about the fandom or my experience. I am so disappointed.

[daizedndconfused]

thievin’

a/n- idk why im up right now but yay first post of 2025 who’s hyped?? ik i’ve been like mia for a bit but i blame my ps5 for that. also back in school!! awesome (can you tell im crying) lmaooo anyway this is defo gonna be like a mini series so get ready okay lots of love everyone hope you keep up your resolutions if you do em<33

characters- cole brookstone x thief fem!reader

type- eh fluff kinda/enemies to lovers type beat you’ll see

warnings- very mild suggestive comments (not proofread)

synopsis- you’re a thief living in the most run down part of ninjago. you’re doing everything you can to make ends meet, but sometimes you gotta bite the bullet and take a gamble. in order to make a little extra cash you’re sent on a mission to steal a very priceless artifact—the most high risk heist you’ve ever been on. you encounter a certain ninja during your outing and you just can’t help yourself to a little bit of fun upon meeting him. will he let you go? will you succeed in recovering the artifact? or will it be your head on the line instead?

word count- 3.1k

Being poor was okay. Obviously, it wasn’t the ideal spot to be in, and sure you’d prefer to have money and not have to worry about whether or not you would be able to feed yourself tomorrow but you can’t have it all, can you?

Everybody thought Ninjago was the most gorgeous city–clearly they’ve never visited your side of town. You personally didn’t think it was an awful place to live, but it definitely isn't what people would expect out of the great ninjago city.

Nevertheless, it was home. Well, home since your parents died and you were left to fend for yourself. Technically, your mother died during childbirth, or shortly after. You didn’t really like to ask your father about it. It seemed insensitive.

The loss of your father was more recently caused by an unsuspected illness you didn’t have the funds to get treated. You lost him seven years ago, and you miss both of them immensely, even if you never knew your mother–she still held a place in your heart, and your blood.

Plus, it wasn’t as if you were completely alone. The loss of your parents and your home only hindered your spirit for a few months. But eventually, you had to grow up. You had only yourself now, and you needed to start getting your shit together.

That’s how you found yourself living in a narrow alley with nothing but a few blankets to separate yourself from the hard concrete, and a tarp above your head held up by hopes and dreams in case it rained. Courtesy of a girl you’d met three years ago–Henley.

You did what you had to to survive, the both of you did, but your version of ‘work’ was a tad more illegal than Henley’s. While your friend chose to work at some manufacturing factory that paid maybe ten cents an hour, you quickly developed the skill of ‘soft hands.’

Just a little something you picked up in the few years before befriending Henley. Plus, living where you did at the time, it was customary for your father to teach you martial arts, and teach he did. He often pushed you to your limits, making sure your senses were always on high alert.

Though now you supposed you were grateful for it. It made it easy to navigate the crowded streets of Uri–the poorer side of Ninjago that most people decided to ignore.

The early morning sun beat down on you, somehow finding its way around the tarp above your head.

Groaning you rolled over, hoping to block out the rays and catch a few more hours of sleep.

“Morning,” Henley yawned from beside you.

You mumbled incoherently back at her.

“I’ve gotta get going, work starts soon,” Henley told you. You heard her scooting closer towards you.

“Why d’you work at that shithole?” You grumbled, still not fully awake. “They barely pay you, Henley.”

You could practically see the expression on her freckled face. She was most likely staring down at you with a torn and somewhat somber expression.

“It’s the only place that would hire me,” she muttered. “You know that.”

Squeezing your eyes tight you then sat up, stretching out your back. Upon opening your eyes you came to find out your assumption was correct.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Which is bullshit by the way. Any web company would be lucky to have you.”

Henley shrugged a shoulder. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Then it’s a good thing we haven’t stooped that low,” you reassured her. You left the unspoken yet out of the sentence.

Henley smiled, brushing back her mane of curly red hair. “Okay, now I really need to go. Please, be safe today, and try not to get caught. I really don’t know if I can stomach breaking you out of jail again.”

“In my defense,” you said as she stood to leave. “There may have been some alcohol behind the reason that asshole caught up to me.”

Henley fixed you with a look that said, Good luck, before she looked up and down the already busy streets and made her way to the factory.

You gave yourself a few more minutes before heading out onto the streets. As usual, Uri was already busy at like eight a.m on a weekday. Stall owners were yelling at anyone passing by as if the volume would persuade people to stop and buy a useless trinket they didn’t need.

Still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you wove through people, fluid like a leaf in the wind. It was almost too easy to nick people’s wallets this way. In Uri it was almost impossible to walk anywhere without brushing shoulders with someone. Lucky for you, the jacket you wore held many pockets to store your ‘finds’ on the street.

After palming a few wallets on your way to possibly the best looking building in this part of town, you opened them up to find nothing much. Out of all the wallets you lifted, you got a whopping thirty dollars.

See that was the issue with living in a poor neighborhood–everyone you stole from was also poor. Not a great match unfortunately.

Sighing, you made your way towards the tallest building in Uri. It also just happened to be where you’d pick up a way to make some extra cash on the days that were really slow. Just from waking up this morning you knew today would be one of them.

The only issue is, the jobs you’re given are risky, and so you try not to do them as often.

The guards posted outside of the doors let you through without any issues. At this point you’d been coming here sporadically for about five and a half years. You were the best and most reliable thief Malina had.

A few doors, some hallways, and an elevator later, you stood in front of the woman herself.

Malina stared at you with a victorious glint in her eyes, her head resting on her intertwined fingers. “And here I thought you broke up with me.”

“Ah, you know me,” you shrugged, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “Always comin’ back.”

“Now that I can always rely on.” Malina leaned back in her big leather chair, one long leg crossed over the other.

Malina was the only successful business owner in this Uri. Shockingly, she got most of her wealth from illegal schemes and black market dealings. Which is why she needed you.

Malian didn’t waste any time in throwing down a file on top of her spotless desk.

“It’s all in there,” she waved a gloved hand, her diamond bracelet twinkling in the light of her office.

You reached for the file and flipped it open to survey its contents. Your eyes widened as you continued further and further down the papers clipped together. This job was impossible.

Usually, nothing is impossible for you. However, in the past Malina only ever had you stealing jewels from old guys on their deathbed, or artwork from museums, and sometimes some random priceless artifact guarded in an equally random warehouse.

Apparently this time she really wanted to put you to the test.

“This is a joke,” you said, flipping the file shut.

“How so?” Malina asked, dark brows furrowed in innocence.

“Look, you give me work, and I’ve always appreciated that,” you told her honestly. “But stealing from the Royal Family is my one way ticket to a lifetime in prison.”

Malina pouted at you. “And here I thought my star employee never got caught.”

You scoffed out a laugh, tongue in your cheek as you looked up to the heavens for patience.

When she didn’t back down you finally spoke. “What else you got for me?”

“Unfortunately,” Malina said, though her tone didn’t suggest she found it anywhere near unfortunate, “that’s it.”

“Bullshit,” you challenged.

Malina raised her hands. “I’m serious! Work’s been booming lately.”

Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes. The two of you stood unspeaking, staring at each other as you weighed your options.

On the plus side, if you did this job successfully, you and Henley might be able to afford an actual apartment. A shitty one, but it was better than the alley. Plus, you might also be able to afford the first few months of rent before you get a real job and force Henley to quit hers at the factory.

Closing your eyes you reluctantly agreed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Malina’s grin widened into an eerie expression, her pearly white teeth shone almost as bright as the diamonds around her wrist. “I knew you would. Clothes are in their usual place.”

You nodded and spun on your heel, hightailing it out of Malina’s office. Thankfully, ever since you all but pledged your loyalty to her, she’d provide you with some living essentials occasionally. Things like showers, a hairbrush, basic needs like that.

But when she sent you out on a mission, she made sure you were set up for success, and the rest was on you. Opening the wooden wardrobe at the end of the hall, you were greeted with the familiar sight of the dark clothing you typically wore on outings such as these.

You picked the uniform off the hanger and quickly found the nearest room to change in. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving until nightfall, you still would rather put it on now as it helped you even in Uri. With the hood and mask covering the bottom half of your face, the only thing you could really make out was your hair and eyes.

You spent most of the day on the roof tops, going over the blueprints of the palace Malina provided for you, along with the guard rotations. Pacing along the edge of an old rundown building, you slowly came up with a plan. Though, the object you had been assigned to steal was a bit odd. You expected jewels, or even the crown, but instead you were sent after a golden hourglass, with equally golden sand inside.

You didn’t know the properties or importance of the object, but to be honest, you didn’t really care. You just wanted to get the job done and over with so you could return home and finally place a roof over your head after seven years of sleeping under the open sky.

As soon as the sun set beyond the city, you set out. Of course, you left Henley a note explaining you might not be back tonight–and that you might not be back at all–but you assured her not to worry.

It took a while to get to the good part of town, but a few subway trains later, you finally made it. And what a difference it was.

Instead of yelling and aggressive haggling, there was light chatter, laughter, and the buzz of technology reverberating around you. Not to mention the colors. Almost every sign in Ninjago was neon, and sometimes you couldn’t help but get a little sidetracked looking at all the beautiful things you’d never get to experience yourself.

Eventually, you found yourself by the palace. Fishing out the timetable of the guard rotations, you determined that the east side of the castle would be the most unprotected in about two minutes–meaning you had to be quick.

Quick you were. You managed to get to the east side and scale the wall in a minute and thirty. Tiptoeing around the outer wall, you made sure to keep your eyes on the guards below. So far, none of them noticed you.

Finally, you landed on the tiled roof. By memorization, the hourglass would be located in a mostly open room on the top floor. Carefully maneuvering around the roof, making sure to not make too much noise, you managed to unlock the window and pull it open.

Thankfully, it didn’t make much noise. Letting out an internal sigh of relief, you quickly tied a rope on one of the support pillars of the palace and threw it over the side of the window. Directly below the window was an obnoxiously large potted plant that would do well to hide you from view.

You briefly wondered if you’d be able to climb back up with rope one handed, but instead you figured you could bring a cord to secure the hourglass onto your belt loop.

As usual, you landed on the red wood floors without a sound. As much as you wished to stick around and admire the impressive castle you’d only ever seen in newspapers, you had a job to do.

Heart hammering, you peeked around the plant to find two guards–both with their back towards you.

It feels almost too easy, you thought as you crept towards the hourglass displayed on a pedestal.

Once you got close enough, you took a few moments to inspect the pedestal. There was a very possible chance of the hourglass being placed upon a weighted pressure plate that would set off the emergency alarms if removed, but after looking at it, the stone surface looked entirely even. There most likely wasn’t any extra security around this artifact, but in the off chance there was, you’d have to be ready to run.

Calming your mind, you swiped it quickly, preferring to take it and bolt in case the alarms went off.

You got three strides in before your luck ran out. All around you alarms had started blaring, alerting every guard on the premises. However, by that point you had already tied the glass around your waist and were ascending the rope.

You could vaguely make out the alarmed voices of the guards chasing after you, and as soon as you heaved yourself onto the roof, you sliced the rope with the knife in your boot. Two thuds and pained grunts were all you heard before you bolted.

Guards were climbing up at every point, but what they had in size and brute strength, you had in speed and agility. Being quick on your feet was like second nature–and you really should send a letter to the Royal Family to invest in some guards. These ones weren’t all that good at their job.

You hoped over them in groups, and it felt like you knew the palace layout better than they did. You knew exactly where to step and when to step, that by the time you landed on the other side of the walls, you knew you had one.

You grinned and laughed triumphantly as you jumped across the rooftops. The guards got further and further away and you blame the adrenaline in your veins for what happened next.

Suddenly, something tangled itself around your ankles, sending you tumbling to the concrete of an apartment complex.

“Son of a–” you winced, cradling the wrist you had landed on at an awkward angle.

Sitting up quickly, you reached for the rope wrapped around your ankles when a boot beat you to it.

“I don’t think that belongs to you,” the stranger spoke.

Looking up slowly, you mentally cursed yourself at the figure standing above you.

The Earth Ninja.

Why the hell were they at the palace? Why did they care about some petty robbery, wasn’t there some maniac trying to destroy the world that they should be busy with at the moment?

“What? The outfit? It doesn’t–borrowed from a friend.” You leaned back on your palms, looking up at the Earth Ninja’s strikingly gorgeous face.

He wasn’t wearing his mask tonight, leaving all his features on display–brown eyes that you guessed were a gorgeous shade of hazel in the light, shaggy but well kept hair as dark as the sky above, and a build that could rival the strength of an ox.

Cocking your head, you pushed your hood back and mask down, letting him see your roaming eyes and approving smirk.

“I need that.” He pointed to the golden hourglass at your hip. Apparently he didn’t find your jokes very funny.

“No, I need it,” you countered. “How else am I supposed to keep track of the time? I don’t have a watch.”

You shoved your hands up, rotating your wrists spastically to emphasize your point.

The Earth Ninja leaned down, but you didn’t back down. “Just hand over the glass, and I’ll tell them you dropped it trying to flee.”

You too leaned towards him, the both of you so close your noses were almost touching. In the ninja’s favor, his expression didn’t falter.

“I told you, I need it.”

“And I gave you an ultimatum,” the ninja returned, his eyes hardening. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” You smirked with a wink.

You saw his facade crack slightly as he twitched back every so slightly. That was all the hesitation you needed.

As the two of you went back and forth, you had been discreetly severing the rope binding your legs, and you quickly wrapped them around his waist, flipping him over onto his back. The Earth Ninja landed with a harsh exhale. You leaped off of him quickly before he could counter your surprise attack.

He was a ninja, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to beat him at hand to hand combat, but you could avoid him. Your thought was proven when he was back on his feet and into a fighting stance a split second after you created distance between you and him.

The Earth Ninja raised a curious brow at you over his raised fists. “Who are you?”

“Funny I was about to ask the same thing,” you laughed. “But, I think I’ve got something that could help me out with that–Cole L. Brookstone–what’s the L for? Oh well, six-foot five inches, black hair, two hundred and ten pounds–” you broke off looking him up and down. “Well you certainly don’t look over two hundred.”

Cole’s eyes widened as he lunged for you, and the wallet in your hand. You jumped back from him easily and continued to read off his driver's license.

“Hazel eyes, nineteen years old–oh cute we’re the same age–”

“Give it back!” He demanded, reaching for you again, only for you to slide under his legs and appear behind him.

“Born on October 25th–” another attempt to grab you had you using the rope previously used on you against him, binding his wrists, and legs making him fall on his ass.

You then hopped onto the roof of the entrance hallway of the building, and sat on the edge, legs swinging in front of you.

You continued to flip through his wallet, “Restaurant receipt–you know you don’t have to keep those. Lifetime subway pass, oh you lucky bastard. Gift card you’ve probably had for three years, credit card–very shiny, one fifty in cash and–” you paused upon seeing the last item in his standard leather wallet.

Sliding your eyes down to the boy your age, you raised a brow at him, almost laughing at his red face you could see even in the dark.

“Why do you have a condom in your wallet?” You giggled.

Cole momentarily stopped struggling against the rope and had the decency to look away, embarrassed.

“Emergencies,” he grumbled, glaring up at you.

“Ah, right,” you sucked air through your teeth before tossing it back down on his lap.

Flexing his arms, he snapped the ropes like they were ribbons and did the same with the ones binding his legs.

“So, it seems we're at an impasse,” you sighed.

“No,” he stood, “we’re not.”

“Au contraire, you’ll never catch me. You had your shot, and you blew it.” You pointed at him accusingly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m very slippery. And I assure you–you chase, and I’ll run, and I can keep running for a damn long time.”

It would become a game of cat and mouse you knew would go on forever.

“Surely you don’t expect me to just let you walk away with a priceless artifact from the Royal Family.” Cole crossed his arms.

“Exactly–impasse.”

The stubborn boy shook his head, black waves flopping. “No, I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the dart was already buried into his arm.

Cole startled, looking down at the tiny metal needle sticking out of his right bicep. He gave you an unimpressed look before reaching with his other hand to pluck it from his body. However, his hand was halfway there when it went limp by his side.

Cole’s brown eyes went wide as his legs too started to wobble, and shortly after the rest of his body gave away.

He once again landed on the ground with a dull thud.

Smiling slightly you gracefully jumped down from your perch and made your way over to him to retrieve your dart.

“What the hell is that?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Just a numbing sedative,” you responded, pocketing it. “Don’t worry it’ll wear off in like an hour.”

“An hour? Hell no, help me up.”

“Hmm, tempting,” you deadpanned, but you did prop his back up against the wall of the roof in a sitting position.

Cole glared at you, and you smirked back.

“I enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse my friend,” you patted his cheek before standing to full height. “But I’m afraid I must be going. Places to be, money to be made–you know how it is.”

“Hey! Wait!” Cole called to your retreating back.

But you didn’t. Instead you leapt down to the adjacent roof and all but skipped back to Uri, happy that you weren’t caught, but you weren’t entirely mad about meeting the Earth Ninja either. Secretly, you hoped he'd track you down–where round two of your game would take place.

[kalinara]

So one thing I really love about the Original Five in the future issues is how so many artists have such wildly different takes on Scott Summers's design, but each one works incredibly well for their respective contexts.

Take this one, from All-New X-Men #1:

This is the first look at Baby Scott that we get. Immonen's Scott here looks a lot like the Scott we see in the original issue that this is referencing:

I included the third panel because the resemblance is the most striking there. All cheekbones and suit that's just a little too big. A very young man trying to fill a big role and doing it about as well as anyone can.

I'm going to put the rest of these behind the cut, because this is a very image heavy post.

Anyway, as soon as we get to the past, the depiction of Scott changes sharply.

Six issues and one day later (All-New X-Men #007), Scott looks profoundly different:

He looks younger, softer, and that furrow in his brow is not going to be going away any time soon. Understandable. This poor kid has been through the wringer and life is not done with him yet.

Dauterman's Cyclops in...Cyclops #2 is pretty consistent with this portrayal:

He looks young, adolescent. A bit softer in the face. Perpetual furrow is still there. Well, not actually in this particular shot, but trust me, there's lots of furrowing in this series.

See? (Cyclops #03) Corsair can really bring out the furrow in a kid.

Actually, I hate to say it, but Corsair actually seems to have done this kid some good. The Cyclops that we see in the SECOND run of All-New X-Men actually seems almost confident again.

Bagley's Scott still got his issues, but aside from the scrawniness, he looks damn near adult. But also mostly content. This road trip that the team is on, away from the adults and the pressure, seems to be good for him.

Even injured, he seems to be doing pretty well (from All-New X-Men #12):

This is notable to me, because this issue came out in August 2016. Fast forward to late 2016 (specifically Champions #3), and we get:

Ramos's Scott is completely recognizable of course, but he is, very clearly, a CHILD, in a way that none of the previous versions really get to be.

And it works. It makes perfect sense. Because this is the first time since the plane crash where Scott has been able to actually be a CHILD. He's not leading the group, he doesn't have to set an example. He can just play too. He can, as he tells Ms. Marvel much later, actually relax.

But all sweet things must come to an end, and the Scott in X-Men Blue #01 is back to form:

Jean's actually leading the team, which is nice. And there's some very nice banter. But Molina's Scott is very much back to proto-adult here. (And while Jean is leading and starts the scene in front, Scott's positioning makes complete sense when the next page reveals who they're actually reporting to - Magneto).

I'm not really an art person. Generally I pay a lot more attention to things like plot, dialogue, and character development than I do the art styles. It's how I got through the 90s. But this has been a neat thing to go back and notice. Each depiction is excellent. Each one is immediately recognizable. But each one says something a little different and fits the story in its own specific way. And that's really cool!

[jmdbjk]

Make assumptions and get the wrong idea. Please. That's what he said.

My brain listening to Who:

(on the beat of course)

Sorry for the brain porn but that's how my brain feels when I hear Jimin's vocals. The runs, the ad libs, the highs, lows, and in-betweens, the breathing, especially the breathing. Especially in the 4K version of the Tonight Show performance posted on BangtanTV.

For many years now I've been wanting to hear Jimin let 'er rip on a big song and FINALLY! FINALLY!

FINALLY!

I started to jot down my interpretations of Who but you know what? no one needs yet another analyzation of the song, the lyrics, the MV, the belt sharing, the ... but one thing I need to point out... Ryan's Vintage Clothes is definitely a nod to Ryan Gosling don't you think? (just kidding sorta)

A ton of people have given their dissertations on what they think it all means. All I know is Jimin has that MAGIC and he is FLEXING big time.

This is my favorite shot from the most recent promo image drop on Weverse. I have always dissented when Jimin would say his left side is his best side. No sir. It's your right side.

The entire Muse album is a complete mind-bender for me. He came up with the ideas and themes and what he couldn't do on his own, he explained to all the people helping him in order to create his vision...

PDogg said this in an interview: "I also believe the experience of collaborating with various producers and songwriters in LA and NY gave Jimin the opportunity to further explore his limitless potential."

Minseong Kim (Performance Director): "When we were working together, I saw Jimin putting a lot of thought into delivering the song's choreography as a visual art form. He uses his detailed expressions to convey various artistic elements in the performance beyond simply presenting stylish, energetic choreography. He is always devoted to emphasizing the artistic elements of the performance by forming a visceral connection to it. I believe that his commitment and passion has shaped Jimin's unique style and allows him to deliver one of the most exciting performances in pop music."

and:

"We had countless discussions about how to visually articulate the story and message of the song through the performance on a larger scale, in a manner that's true to the song's title Who. When the choreography was completed Jimin was utterly pleased with the performance having all the elements he had wished to incorporate."

You can read the entire VMAGAZINE article here.

Regarding the other songs on the album, in MiniMoniMusic Exchange, Jimin mentioned that Rebirth was his favorite track. I do love it too, Jimin. The heartbeat, the poignancy. Perfection.

And I have to compare Be Mine to Seven. In Jungkook's Seven, the explicit version was so very literal and so in your face it was funny, even the MV added to the unserious vibe of it all.

But in Jimin's, Be Mine, he has probably the most erotic lyric I've ever heard coming out of the mouth of a Tannie: "... a hot island, a party with just the two of us; I know what you want and baby I want the same; love ‘til the morning; we just keep fallin’... baby come, baby come; show me what, show me what love is, yeah yeah; melt me hot, hot, hot quickly"

I am streaming all the versions of all the songs and album. I absolutely love it.

Now that I got that out of my system...

It's been about a year (??!?!?) since Jungkook's Only Fans debut live stream. Time is flying.

We are anticipating gaining more context soon surrounding exactly what went down between them the prior two weeks to this live and what did Jimin mean when he said he "can handle it? (Are you sure you wanna know?)

There is a high possibility we might get some jikook carpool karaoke.

The main trailer drops Monday. Hold on to your ... whatever it is you hold on to when you get shook because I'm sure it'll be another earthquake on the timeline.

All lyrics translations credit: © 2024 by Learn Korean With Sel www.learnkoreanwithsel.com/

[tshortik]

My random comic Recs #1

I've been reading more comics lately, so I wanted to share my love for them in the hopes that someone might give this medium a chance!

Note: I am not a fan of superhero comics, because I simply don't like that genre, so don't expect superheroes below. Gonna make these posts every now and then and they will always include 4 recs. 1.) The Many Deaths of Laila Starr

Death got demoted and sent to earth as a mortal! Some boy is going to figure out how to cheat death in the future, and our girl Death really doesn't appreciate that. The entire graphic novel is only 5 issues long, so it's VERY digestible and easy to get through.There is something so light and playful about the art style, and the vibrant colors really sell it.

For people that are completely new to comics as a medium, I imagine that this is actually an A+ book to start with for the reasons I just mentioned. The way paneling and the flow of time is done in here, is a great example as to why comics are so unique as a medium and why they should be looked at as its own art from, separate from movies or books.

2) Mécanique Céleste (Or "Mechanica Calaestium" in the German translation, or "Aster Of Pan" in the English translation)

An absolutely breathtaking French comic. Aster lives in Pan, a post-apocalyptic France where she scavenges for wreckage with her friend Wallis. After their people come under a threat by the Federation of Fortuna, they are given a choice —submit to Fortuna’s rule or beat them in a weird Hunger Games-esque version of Dodge, called “Celestial Mechanics”.

The detailed art pieces in each panel, the careful line work, the lively way the characters move and the stunning watercolors captivated me from the first page. This graphic novel (now 2 volumes) is one of a kind and truly unique!

3) Something Is Killing the Children

Note: Comic contains a lot of gore and violence!

Children are starting to disappear in Archer's Peak. The ones that come back tell impossible stories that no one seems to believe. Only one stranger trusts these tales - a mysterious girl named Erica Slaughter who seems to be able to see these creatures too. And she's here for business.

I loooove Something is Killing the Children. I haven't finished reading the ongoing volumes yet, but I am super fascinated at how well the pacing goes in this story. The rough art style with Erica's freaky large eyes is SO fun, and you start appreciating it even more the longer you read.

4) Mon Ami Pierrot ("Mein Freund Pierrot" in German, "My friend Pierrot" in English)

Another fabulous French comic! Cléa is to marry soon - a young man name of Berthier. Right before the wedding she meets the fascinating magician Pierrot though, who completely changes the course of her life. Entranced by his whimsical nature that makes her feel "free" for the first time in her life, she follows him and leaves her previous life behind. During her stay with Pierrot, questions arise, though. Who is he really? All the while her betrothed sets out to find her again.

The Ghibli influence both art- and storywise is easy to make out, and I personally really enjoyed that. I particularly love the colors and the facial expressions the characters are drawn with. Everything feels very whimsical and playful and I had a good time going through this chonker of a graphic novel!

No spoilers, but I expected toothrottingly-sweet wholesome stuff, and ended up surprised on several occasions. I think the colours and art style really help give those moments wham, because you don't expect it.

[bumblebeehug]

That's a very good point! Although I guess you could argue that we already had Natsu thinking Lucy was dead in the Alvarez arc? (And in GMG he literally watches a version of Lucy die.) I suppose the responsibility part would be different as you mentioned (especially if it's Ignia. Or! Lucy could die in the process of saving Natsu). But I also wonder if the 'one wish' is a fakeout plot. And if we can truly trust Elefseria. I mean who is powerful enough to grant a wish? Any wish? That's some karmic justice Genie shit type beat. (Thank you btw, for answering these asks)

(In regards to this https://www.tumblr.com/bumblebeehug/763935002780172288/ive-been-thinking-about-that-too-or?source=share )

I'm a firm believer of the fact that natsu needed all the different stages of Lucy dying. First time around it was a "fake" Lucy, the one from the future. It's the fist time we reallsery see Natsu in that broken anger, but he doesn't go insane. He's still very Natsu, no END-mode or anything, because there's still hope in his mind that he can save his Lucy (plus another bunch of factors that makes it so he doesn't activate demon mode).

The second time is during their war against Alvarez. This time he's quite involved with the whole END thing, he knows he's riding a fragile wave and that he can succumb to the demon stuff soon, so losing Lucy tips him over. At the time, he's ready to die (see shiiro's suicidal-natsu post https://www.tumblr.com/shiiro-arts/764022215033389056/is-natsu-sucdal?source=share for better insight) and he doesn't really consider a life without Lucy. He didn't think he'd make it out of that war alive, because Lucy (in his mind) wouldn't.

He naturally didn't expect her to be alive, or for him to snap out of the demon-mode, so when they all somehow made it out the other side, I think a small, thin string of hope deveoped in Natsu's heart. The bad thing is that it completely relies on Lucy's life. He can't afford to lose her again, because as far as he's concerned, he can't blame his next strike of insanity on being a demon. But he'll go completely insane if Lucy dies. He'll turn into a demon, or at least a monster, stopping at nothing until he's burned everything. An earth where Lucy dies isn't an earth worth existing.

The one wish being a fakeout plot is absolutely something I could see being true. Maybe it isn't even on purpose, Elefseria could have a scewed idea of what he's capable of, hence the reward that should be amazing in theory. It's also possible that Elefseria won't make it out alive of the 100yq. Mashima is sadly not above taking the easy way out of the corners he writes himself into. I just hope that isn't the case, cus I also know that if Mashima puts some effort into his plots, they can end up as masterpieces (Tartarus for example)

[dootznbootz]

As someone who is also really uncomfortable with the Zeus/Odysseus art trend, I completely understand where your coming from!

People’s treatment of Odysseus’s assaults in general makes me really upset. Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom.

I remember being so frustrated when the snippets of “There are Other Ways” came out because so many people were making Hamilton jokes and talking about how he always talks about his wife yet cheated. When in the song it was so clear he was being coerced which is yknow, not a form of consent. I couldn’t even listen to it because it made me so uncomfortable, and even now with the full version out the fandoms reaction to it overall have soured me to it. Which sucks, because I do think it’s a great song.

Also I don’t even think Epic completely erases Calypso’s assault? At least, I think it’s left ambiguous enough during the time jump that people can come to their own conclusions. Specifically when Calypso says “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time” just really gives me the impression that something else happened.

I suppose in the snippets we’ve seen of “I’m Not Sorry For Loving You” it seems like Odysseus and Calypso are on slightly friendlier terms, but I don’t think that negates the fact she could’ve assaulted him. And I’ve always took that song as pretty manipulative on Calypso’s side, with Odysseus more so trying to placate her. But that’s going into theory territory.

And even if he isn’t SA’d in Epic it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be there!! Same with Homer’s Odyssey. It’s so infuriating to see the cheating narrative be so widely spread when that is just not what happened.

Anyway’s sorry for the long rant, but I wanted to say that it’s nice to see you take Odysseus’s SA seriously. It’s not something the fandom does enough.

It's okay for the long rant. Sorry I took a bit to get to it but I wanted some "soft chatters" for a bit before I tackled this one :)

"Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom."

I completely understand you with this stuff. ;~; I used to go through Odyssey tags often as I LOVE possibly finding new people to follow and fun things but too many times I would see shit that pissed me off. ;~; I've honestly kind of just stuck to my mutuals that I trust tbh. And honestly, there's soooo much shit of people just straight up not understanding the context/culture/meaning/etc. of the Epics and just taking it at face value and not understanding the meanings. :/ I'm no expert, but I also have analyzed and researched quite a bit on my own to try and get the full picture. I think in order to truly enjoy the Odyssey, you need to just... really soak shit in, you know?

When Calypso, that lovely goddess,  tried                           to keep me with her in her hollow cave, longing for me to become her husband,                                  or when, in the same way, the cunning witch Aeaean Circe held me in her home filled with a keen desire I’d marry her, they never won the heart here in my chest.

(Book 9, Johnston)

Odysseus tells this to the Phaecians. They are strangers that he will likely never see again and who are isolationists. Therefore his story that he told probably won't be "spread" to others so he can probably say whatever. So he doesn't have to worry about "Penelope hearing a different story than the one he told to her" if people wanna argue about how "Oh well, he didn't tell Penelope about the 'affairs'"(He tells her everything as well btw.)

He could literally say "Oh yeah, I had the time of my life!" but he doesn't because that's not true. Odysseus has no listed concubines, I just literally don't see him as the type of guy who's really into that.

And while yes, he would be devastated if she didn't "stay loyal", he does sound like he'd be understanding. He asks his mother in the Underworld if Penelope had gotten remarried to "the finest of Achaeans". And we all know of Odysseus' words of "when Telemachus has a beard, feel free to remarry". Even when first "rejected" by Penelope in that she didn't hug him when he sat across from her, he was incredibly hurt but asked for a separate bed. He literally could have had it where Penelope takes a different bed and he takes their luxurious/fancy one because he has the rest of the household on his side.

But he DOESN'T!

Because he adores her for fuck's sake!

Funny enough? I have the weird reaction of like, weirdly searching out "Good" animatics as it was a weird reassurance of "yes, people see that it's wrong." as while holy fuck. so many stupid, awful jokes about "Say No to This" in the comments (I have learned to just stay the fuck away from youtube comments on Odysseus shit. :') ) but like, seeing and HEARING how yes, this was fucked, was weirdly really nice for me. yeah, it took a lot of digging but there's a few "There Are Other Ways" that I love. Literally, both are unfinished wips and they're still my favorites. If you can, please give these two a watch and some love for the creator.

This was back before we heard the full song and it's still very good. How he's on guard until she "magics" him and the colors change. After that he kind of moves like a "puppet" but he's still resisting as best he can.

This one is literally still sketches but it's my absolute favorite. Oh my word. The body language, PENELOPE FLASHBACKS!!! Showing cute bits of Penelope's character and how awful this is for him. (Penelope is so cute. She puffs up her cheeks to make him laugh!) How he really is scared that he'll have to go through with this in order to save his friends until all his past trauma floods back and he just can't. It's lovely.

And yeah Idk how to feel about "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" :/ I don't know how it'll be yet, maybe there's something in another song that shows Odysseus' real feelings or whatever.

And with just the whole cheating thing, yeah, it's really upsetting to call what is blatant assault "cheating". As wild as it sounds, Odysseus' story has been more relatable for me than any other stories like this, even modern ones. I've spoken a bit about it before but yeh, victim blaming at its finest. I find him and his story and his love for Penelope slkdfj very relatable. It's honestly really nice to write about in a sense..

(I'm pasting this from an old post of mine but yeh)

I have never had a story that felt like how it actually FEELS. The "aftermath" and "regaining life". It's hopeful and feels really good. It's been years since "everything" but it just felt nice to see "Everybody has the chance to get better." Even Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, while still dealing with their traumas, are doing a lot better now. And after literal hell, Odysseus got to be with his family and loved ones again. He can start living again. It's why I'm just...idk passionate about this? I'm not a murderer or a war veteran but I see myself in him. Hopefully, y'all see me as nicer though!😂(plus, let's be honest, the Odyssey is romantic af and OdyPen is right up my alley as well >:D )

I really hate the whole "he's a guy so therefore ____" whether it's used as a "Boys will be boys. they can't help themselves" usually aimed at female victims or a "Men always want sex. they cannot be victims.". It's fucked up and used against ALL of us. :( Doesn't matter if it was history. People, no matter the era, should never be put through "Are you Victim™ enough?". He is one.

Idk the Odyssey means a lot to me. I hope it's okay I take some liberties with my fanfics as it's nice healing through him :D I AM kind of using my own experiences and ideas and it feels nice. I don't think Homer necessarily meant for this but eh, anything that helps is good :D He's a war criminal that I relate to.

[sgtpeppers]

So after I posted those photos of Linda and Paul yesterday, taken by Allen Ginsberg, I started doing some digging into their relationship with Allen. Maybe this is all old news to everyone, but I found some cool stuff, so thought I'd share!

So Allen first met the Beatles on his 39th birthday, although at this point it was just John, Cyn, George and Pattie (x):

"At the party Allen got completely drunk and stripped off his clothes, putting his baggy underpants on his head and hanging a hotel ‘Do not disturb’ notice around his cock. It was at this moment that two of The Beatles arrived: John with Cynthia, and George with Pattie. John and George quickly checked that no photographers were present. Allen kissed John on the cheek, and John told him that he used to draw a magazine at art school called the Daily Howl [in reference to Ginsberg’s poem Howl]; they were friendly enough and accepted drinks, but then made quickly for the door. I asked John why he was leaving so soon. ‘You don’t do that in front of the birds!’ he hissed in my ear." 

Many Years From Now, Barry Miles

Despite this interesting first meeting, it looks like they went on to be friends with all of them, including Paul. In 1967 Allen gifted Paul an early copy of his book 'TV Baby Poems', with the following inscription:

“For Paul McCartney That all fantasies harmonise sweetly & also Hari Krishna!”

(x)

In the same book, Allen actually name drops John and Paul, in the poem Middle of a Long Poem on These States: Kansas City to St. Louis.

You can read the full poem here, but also... here's the section that they're mentioned in:

Paul later goes on to use the phrase 'Electric Arguments' as the title of his 2008 The Fireman album. And I'm just gonna... leave that there.

It seems like they became closer friends in the 90s, and Allen talks about his friendship with Paul in this interview:

I had been talking quite a bit to [Paul] McCartney, visiting him and bringing him poetry and haiku, and looking at Linda McCartney’s photographs and giving him some photos I’d taken of them.

And around this point, Allen and Paul collaborated on an accompanied version of Allen's poem The Ballad of the Skeletons.

Here's Paul talking about how he got involved, but the TLDR is that Allen called him asking if he knew a guitarist that would accompany him at the Royal Albert Hall, and after recommending a couple of people, Paul assumed it was Allen's round about way of asking him.

The performance is so so good, you can watch the full thing here:

Paul just looks so happy doing it!

They also went on to record a version of this as well, which had a more complicated instrumental composed by Paul and then recorded with Allen on vocals, Philip Glass on keyboards, Paul on guitar, drums, Hammond organ and maracas, Lenny Kaye on bass, Marc Ribot on guitar and David Mansfield on guitar. - you can read more about it here.

And I just love this quote from Allen about working with Paul (from this interview again):

He reacts to the words in an intelligent way. You can hear it on the tape. Like if I say on the recording, “What’s cooking,” all of a sudden he brings in the maracas to get that really funny excitement. When I say, “Blow Nancy blow,” he blows on the Hammond organ. He added a lot of enthusiasm and a lot of interpretation. And sometimes, when I made a flub, he covered it. He left his lead sheet in his guitar case, so we had to share my lead sheet [at Albert Hall], which was fun.

I just love finding out all these random little things Paul has been involved in, he gets everywhere!

Allen also (tried) to give Paul advice on his poetry (x), and Allen's comments about Eleanor Rigby were one of the things that lead Paul to publish his own poetry in Blackbird Singing.

I used to hang out a bit with Allen Ginsberg in the Sixties, and later on during the last couple of years of his life we became good friends. And he said to me “That Eleanor Rigby is a f- good poem, man.” So I thought, well, he’s no slouch, and so, with Adrian pushing me, I looked at them again, and thought, yes, some of them could be read.

(x)

Allen Ginsberg unfortunately passed away on the 5th April 1997, about a year before Linda, but it seems like those last few years of Allen's life included a really beautiful, collaborative friendship with them!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Fuck Me Like A Bitch So I May Love You More

Some more of Cannibal King!König, this time getting real mad and protecting his prize from other competitors. Also features my new favourite side character in this series. So anyways, enjoy having your hair braided and König beating the shit out of a guy.

Btw full version is on my Kofi if you want the smut.

TWs: graphic violence, very dubcon, referenced loss of child (if you squint), reader being a dick about 'savages', public sex/voyeurism/orgy (reader does not participate)

Wordcount:3.5k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Fuck Me Like A Bitch So I May Love You More

The worst day you ever had on the island started with an elder cannibal weaving yarrow flowers into your hair.

You didn’t understand why this cannibal was so gentle, or on a more practical note, how she knew to braid hair. Like all the other cannibals, she was shaved almost completely bald, save for a spattering of murky peach-fuzz that had started growing in. And yet, her long frail fingers wove through your hair with a gentleness you’d only seen shared between lovers. Your hair had grown in unnaturally quickly, and as such had bundled into horrible tangles, and yet she was remarkably conscious of how sensitive you had become. 

After scratching and pulling at it uselessly the night prior, your king had brought you to a small skin tent on the outskirts of the settlement. There, a small little woman wearing only a dirty deerskin loincloth was sharpening an axe. The right side of her face was painted with fleshy scars that encircled an empty socket. The teeth on the same side were bare to the world and drool occasionally dropped from one side to the dirt below her. When her one good watery amber eye settled on you, in it you saw only a haunting sadness. You tried to avoid staring, but it was useless. She gave you a thin knowing smile in return.

Your cannibal king tied your leash to a branch before he walked over to the woman, kneeled at her feet and kissed her hands. She closed her eyes and pet his head, then let him go so he could stand above her. He pointed at you and grunted a few words to her, notably softer in tone than usual. Then he pet her head, knelt down to kiss her through his mask, and backed away.

He turned to you and pressed both hands on your shoulders. His blue eyes were notably sharper, and though he said nothing, he conveyed everything he needed to. Stay here. With that, he left and you were alone wit the cannibal woman.

She brought a stool out from her tent and gestured at the stump. It took a second, but you realized what she wanted and sat where she’d been sharpening your axe. You felt a seed of dread root in your gut at the thought that she’d been sharpening it for you.

When you settled, you felt her slowly feel around your hair. You tensed up, ready for her to either rip your hair apart or take her axe to your hair, but she did neither. Instead, you were surprised when she whispered sweet nothings into the nape of your neck and gently massaged the muscles of your shoulders. She set her axe to the side, and you automatically sighed in relief. She chuckled at your reaction as she brushed her frail hands over your skin.

You turned slightly to point at the axe, then at you. You raised a questioning eyebrow.

She followed your eyes, then shook her head and chuckled again. She brushed her hands over your hair before raising her hands up above her head like great claws. It took a moment, but you soon realized she was speaking about your king. When you nodded, she pet your hair again, then clasped it carefully and nodded. Evidently, you wouldn’t be getting a haircut today.

Her skin wasn’t soft, yet her touches were so delicate that it felt like the brushes of a butterfly’s wings over your skin. She wove her way up the muscles of your neck to your hair, where she finally began to gently unwind it. Each strand was treated with utmost care as she unwove it from the mats that had formed in your hair. You closed your eyes and let the sensations wash over you.

For the first time since coming to the island, you were perfectly calm. Everything was at ease, life was peaceful. The birds chirped in the distance with the trickle of a passing river. The wind was soft as it brushed by through the long grass. The crackle of a fire warming some rich aromatic soup reminded you of older times. And through this peace, the old woman caressed your scalp. You’d never had felt such tender care to you hair before. You’d been to hairdressers before, but nobody was this loving, this careful, this delicate. Even your own mother had pulled at your hair occasionally when you'd been a little girl as she had tried to get you ready for school. On the contrary, this woman was unnaturally careful. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around it, but thinking was stressful and so that too washed away.

Once she had finished untangling the mats along the back of your neck, she adjusted her stool around to work on the side. Now, from the edge of your vision, you could see the hollow socket of her eye boring into you. You tried to turn away out of respect, but her hand hooked your chin and she guided you back into place. You felt childish for trying to look away, showing such horrible disrespect to the one person who’d been nothing but kind to you. You tried to give her a smile, but if she gave you one in return, you couldn’t see as her lips had been torn away. Only the fond bunching of her cheek muscle below the socket gave you any indication of forgiveness.

As she wove through your hair, you realized she was still talking to you. No, not talking. Singing. Soft, sweet archaic lullabies. Some of them sounded hauntingly familiar, others you couldn’t place at all. Her voice creaked, yet there was a soft fondness to her voice. It faltered, it sang off notes, yet it was steady with the current of the song. You let yourself drown in it for the briefest moment. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t understand her, you could feel the kindness radiating through the tunes. Old reminders of some place far away, some place lost long ago. Gone but not forgotten. You figured if you went to sleep in her arms and never woke up, you could say that you'd lived a good life.

A sudden cry brought your attention. The woman stopped singing and let her hands drop to her lap. You opened your eyes and looked from her over to where she was looking.

In the distance, a young cannibal woman was holding a child, shushing it and bouncing it on her hip. Before you knew it, your cannibal was walking over to the young woman.

The young woman flinched when she approached. The elder held out her arms, and though hesitant, the newborn was passed over to the older woman. Just as soon as the babe was touched by the elder, they stopped their crying and opened their eyes to look at the new person. The child held up a hand to touch the scars on her face. From this angle, you could see the sad smile of the elder. The elder cupped the child’s hand with her own. Her shoulders shook, and soon the woman began to cry. The younger woman embraced the two, and together they stood, each trying desperately to understand the other.

You don’t know how you knew, but in an instant you knew exactly what happened. The scars, the baby, her sobs. Everything clicked into place. Her kindness was no longer strange and unexpected. When the older woman handed back the babe, you could feel the pain she felt. The younger woman brushed her hand over the elder’s scalp lovingly. They pressed their foreheads together before the younger one left, the child now resting comfortably in the young woman's arms, and the elder's arms empty by her side.

When the elder returned to you, you gently held a hand out to hold hers. The woman looked down at your hand, then up at you. You couldn’t say anything to comfort her or to let her know you cared. So, with nothing else to say, you turned and you hugged her.

She stiffened at first, but soon melted into the hug you gave. You tried to tell her you cared, you didn’t think she understood, but she cried all the same and you held her through it. Her shoulders shook, her crying was silent but it resonated through you all the same. Fat tears fell from her good eye and onto your shoulder. Her chest heaved with the weight of silent tears. You held her, your murmured sweet nothings, you tried to assure her she’d be okay but you knew you were lying. If she could understand you, she’d probably know too.

When she pulled away, you could see how much it strained her to give you a reassuring smile. You tried to give one back in turn, but you were nowhere near strong enough to do so. Without anything to say, she sat beside you again and began winding through your hair again.

This time, you knew exactly how to describe her touch: maternal.

When you king came back to collect you, he stopped to admire the little delicate white flowers the woman had woven into your braids. He looked you over carefully, then turned back to the woman. He leaned down to press his forehead against hers and then pulled back to put his leather leash around your arm again. You held it out for him as you watched the cannibal woman put her stool back inside her tent before leaving by his side.

Soon you were back in the village, drinking hot soup from a wooden bowl as you sat on your king’s knee. His other leg was perched up so he could rest his elbow on the kneecap while he drank his soup while his free hand wove itself around your shoulders.

Around you, most of the other cannibals were chattering amongst themselves. Mothers chewed food for their children, men passed cups of tea. You watched them with a different eye now. They were no longer savages. You’d been able to put distance between you both up until now. As you hand played with a plaited braid, you knew that you could never see them that way again.

The cannibals all seemed a merry bunch, but one man seemed to radiate a dark cloud around him. He was a big man, large enough to make the others around him seem small in comparison. The way his jaw was set had alarm bells ringing in your head. The way he looked at you had you shuffling closer to your king to huddle into his chest.

Your king chuckled at first, but he stopped as soon as he lay eyes on the man who stared at you. You felt strangely vindicated in your judgment when your king set down his bowl and tucked you in closer against him. 

You jumped when your king let out a bellow, silencing the entire camp. In a moment all eyes were locked on your king, and in turn, you. You felt humiliated as they all looked at you with critical eyes. You didn’t get need to worry for long though as your king was quick to gently shuffle you off his lap and put you on the ground beside him. You watched as the others all began to shuffle back, clearing a wide space between your king, the watching man, and the campfire. You sat dumbly in place until a scrawny hand reached out and tugged on your wrist.

You squeaked at their touch, but the woman was persistent in urging you to move back with her. You looked between your king and the man as they pulled themselves to their feet, and hurried to join her at the edge of the ring. Your king was on his feet and puffing up the moment you left him.

You watched in horror as your king picked up his skull club and tossed it over to you. You scrambled to catch it and brought it into your lap. The woman who’d grabbed you snorted and shook her head. You tried to give her a look, but it was hard to look intimidating when wearing a flower crown and holding a skull club like it was a bouquet of roses.

You glanced back at the men in the ring, each now circling each other around the bonfire. Your king shook his head to make the black cloth of his mask billow out, almost like some sort of bluff. He stretched out his muscles as he walked, rolling his shoulders and chuffing.

The other man didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, to your horror, he pointed at you and barked a few words at your king. The way he glanced at you hungrily had chills going down your spine. His black eyes looked almost soulless behind the charcoal he’d painted over his eyes. Something about this hunger felt wrong, perverse. It had your skin crawling as you tried to fold your arms over your chest, feeling almost as though he was undressing you with his eyes.

You watched as the man pointed at you, then yelled something at your king. In response, your king bellowed back and stomped his foot hard enough to make the trees quiver. The dark eyed man shook his head so violently spittle sprayed to the sides and he screamed, but your king seemed completely unphased by his attempts at intimidation. You noted with a strange bubble of pride that when your king puffed his chest and yelled, the black-eyed man flinched.

The two men finally stopped their circling, your king standing in front of you as he huffed and puffed. His chest rose and fell, his fists clenched and relaxed. He didn’t spare you a look, but you couldn’t help but think he took pride in showing off like this in front of you.

With a roar, the man charged forth. Your king responded in kind and grappled the man in the centre. The two of them joined hands and pushed against each other. The man tried to lunge in for a bite only to get a knee in the chest that had him stumbling back.

You watched as the man wheezed, then threw himself back at the king. Your king was quick to throw his fist out and slam it into the other man’s face, knocking him back with windmilling arms before stumbling into the earth. Your king took advantage of the opportunity and ran forth to kick the man in the gut. He rolled back and stumbled to his feet again, hissing and spitting.

The man lunged forth and punched the king’s gut. He stumbled back, and in turn the man slammed his fist into his stomach again, and then again before the king pulled himself together and punched back. You shook as you saw the man glance at you and grin between the punches being slammed into his body. To your horror, one of your king’s punches glanced across his chin, cutting a long line from his cheek down to his chin and spraying blood over the dust.

The man stumbled back. He shook his head and stumbled back, then shuffled back to get some distance between the two of them. Your king was quick to close the distance, feigning a kick only to grab the man’s head and slam a fist into his face so hard you could hear the crack from where you sat. You gasped as the man stumbled back and clutched at his eye. When he pulled back his hand, you could see blood coating his palm.

You'd never seen rage so bright and violent before that day, but the dark eyed man looked the picture of it. He dived away from your king to the campfire and grabbed a burning stick from the pile. At once, the other cannibals cried out and some tried to step forth, but the king held up a hand to stop them. The two men circled each other again, this time one armed and your king empty-handed.

The fire crackled bright hot as embers dropped from the torch in the man's hand. He laughed and shouted some taunting threat. Your king gave him no response, just quiet observance. Enraged, the younger man lunged forth and swung the torch at your king.

The king dodged to the side and stepped back. The man swung again and again, but each time your king stepped out of the way and ducked around the flames. You clutched your hands over your face, afraid to scream lest you distract your king.

Your king manoeuvred the ring with ease. He looked so calm, so at ease with everything that was happening that you were shocked when he grabbed the man's outstretched hand.

He didn’t get a chance to process what he saw before your king grappled the man and slammed him into the earth, the torch dropping to the ground and rolling in the earth beside them. The man tried desperately to get out from underneath but your king held onto him with a vice-like grip. You watched as your king slammed the man back into the earth, then raised up so he could pummel the man’s head with his fists.

You felt like you could cry. The man’s head knocked back into the earth and bounced off with each hit of your king’s fists into his face. Again and again he pummelled the man’s head, aiming mostly for the face but he landed a few knocks into his ears, tearing at the delicate flesh and spraying rich blood across the earth. Your king was relentless, almost incensed by the blood now pouring from his nose and mouth. Again and again the thick thud of fists meeting flesh pounded into your ears. You watched as he continued his assault, continuing even until chunks of flesh started to rip from his face.

You tried to jump forth to stop him but two cannibals were quick to haul you back. A man barked a few words at you as the woman hurriedly shook her head. You glanced between them both and then back at your king. The second you saw the wild euphoria in his eyes you couldn’t help but thank whatever lay above that you’d been stopped. There was no doubt in your mind that in his bloodthirsty state, your king would’ve easily turned on you and mauled you just the same as his enemy. You shuddered as you watched the man’s head slowly deflate, bit by bit until it looked more like a crushed watermelon than a human face. An eyeball was cut free and rolled down over the ground. A small child snatched it and popped it into their mouth, only for the fluids to run down their chubby chin.

When your king was finally finished, he took the torch and stabbed it into the dead man's chest. He stumbled to his feet and whirled around to look at the others. Nobody dared move, not until he looked at you and barked. 

You watched as women with bare chests rose up, clutching their children to their chest and leaving the area. Slowly, as your king roared to the crowds, all the children were taken from among them. You noticed that the one-eyed woman from before was the last to leave, gently ushering a preteen girl away from the tribe’s centre and into the brushes. 

The king watched the children leave, then turned to look at you. You flinched and crawled back reflexively. You needed to leave. Whatever was about to happen, you needed to be as far away from here as you possibly could be. To your horror, the more you tried to get away, the more the other cannibals pushed you back into the ring and closer to the king. Panic consumed you as you tried to push away, but they wouldn’t let you run as your king lumbered toward you.

He grabbed you by your ankle and yanked you away from the others until you lay prone beneath him. You thought back to the first night, back when you wondered what a man would want with someone like you. As you saw him widen his stance, you realized that to even ask such a question was an attempt to avoid thinking about the reality of your situation. You were never more certain of his intents than when he dropped to his knees and wrenched your legs apart.

“Wait, wait!” you tried to stop him but he was already tugging your pants off your body. You fought with him to pull them back up desperately but when you heard the fabric begin to tear, you stupidly let go. He wasn’t so patient with your underwear, tearing it off your body and throwing it to the side. You noticed that he tossed it into the blood of the dead man.

He grabbed your wrist and pinned you down to the earth. His eyes were wide and vicious as he took in your prone form. There was something primitive about his expression, something horribly awful that made you want to cry. This wasn’t for love at all. This wasn’t someone looking to fuck for pleasure.

He was going to fuck you to claim you. The realization made you sob. He was going to fuck you in front of all the others to claim you as his. This entire show was just a display of dominance. Killing the challenger, fucking you while covered in his blood, this was his way of making you his forevermore. 

KOFI CONTENT

You panted beneath him, finally able to gather your senses.

Your king had just claimed you in front of his entire tribe, consummating your tie to him. Or at least, he pretended to, but the end result was the same in the eyes of the other cannibals. You were his now, only his. The others settled around you as your king wiped his spend of your body before letting your hips drop down to the ground. He carefully pulled your pants up your body, then stood up to cradle you in his arms.

He panted into your ear, then turned and roared to the entire tribe. You glanced around to find that the other tribe members were parting the way before the cabin. He adjusted you in his arms and stomped through the throng to duck behind the deerskin door.

Once inside he dropped put down in the deerskin before stepping back to light the torches in the hut. Once done, he joined you back in the pile of furs.

You lay there panting, taking in what had happened. You could hardly believe what you’d just been through. More importantly, you were stunned by his... Humanity? He could’ve forced you to take him, could’ve torn your insides apart. Instead, he hid the act with his loincloth and humped you instead. Your mind must truly be gone to be thankful.

He was a monster, and yet he listened to you. That fact alone was what stood out to you. He listened, and he cared. He’d gone so far as to protect your modesty for you instead of humiliating you in front of his entire tribe. He understood your tears and he cared for you. Your monster cannibal king had a heart after all.

Your king settled himself beside you on the blankets. You shifted to make room for him, letting him rest on his back beside you. His heavy pants filled the small space. You let yourself lay there, not flinching from him as you normally would. He lay out a hand for you, but instead of taking it at a distance you tucked yourself into his chest.

He paused briefly. You both did. Ever so carefully, he lowered his arm to encircle you. In turn, you tucked your leg over his own. You lay there quietly, both of you still unused to the tenderness you found between each other. This new strange thing had been born of bloodshed and violence, and yet it was soft and innocent in nature. Despite what you’d both done, you felt like a small innocent creature in his arms.

He seemed to feel the same about you. He was careful with you, ever so carefully holding you to his form. He almost seemed afraid of you now.

You don’t quite know what came over you, but you found yourself nestling your head into his arms and kissing his chest. He hesitated briefly, then hugged you close. You snuggled in, only briefly pulling away to pile more blankets over the two of you. Your king adjusted them around you both, and the two of you settled into your nest together.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

KOFI

[furiousflamingfeline]

What are your good and bad thoughts about the Reds 👀

Good question, I’m sure from recent posts on Reddit and other social media it might look like I hate the Reds. I don’t. 😇

I’ve been in this fandom for all 26 years and Blossom is my favorite character of all time, so I’m pretty much open to shipping her with almost anyone as long as it’s thoughtfully written and keeps her pretty much in character.

My small child started watching PPG last year which got me back into the fandom after being away for a while. Since then I’ve read pretty much all the Reds that’s worth reading on FF.net and AO3. Some great stuff out there, of course. But after a year of consuming Reds I decided I was tired of the pairing so I wanted to try writing Blossom with almost anyone else.

I mostly don’t like the fanon exclusive version of Brick when his entire character completely changes with no explanation, pretty much only just to make him a palatable love interest for Blossom. Hint: if the character has to change drastically to make Blossom like them, maybe it wasn’t meant to be lol. I particularly hate the dark triad mysterious badass trope that the fandom likes to give him. I just don’t buy it. I feel strongly that (IF the boys got friendly with the girls as they aged) Brick would just be slightly nerdy and a bit of a dweeb. Best comment I got on my story recently says he would grow up to be a dramatic theater kid and I can’t unsee it now. (A good example I can think of right now is “On Top,” on FF.net where Brick is just a giant goofball and Blossom’s exasperation actually makes their chemistry really adorable).

If a good Reds story comes across my dash I will definitely still read it, and I’ll never turn down a spicy Reds scene. But as far as actual realistic compatibility with Blossom? Not a fan.

This is the girl who envisioned a perfect society where the world is run by women. Brick in the canon, of course, is famously a misogynist bully. Making him mature as he ages is fine, but it’s just hard for me to buy that both characters would make a beeline in the complete opposite direction, not without some serious setup by the author.

So, that’s why I’m writing Harry Pitt/Blossom right now. I got sick of the fact that there were almost no alternatives for Blossom and I figured if I couldn’t find it, I’d write it myself.

My other OTPs are Blossom/Princess, Blossom/Butch and Blossom/Robin. (A multi-chapter Blossom/Princess story is already written and coming soon, but I gotta finish the art for it and proofread more before I post lol.)

My headcanon for Blossom is bisexual and for Brick is gay. One fic I read once that was super cute was Blossom doing Brick’s makeup for the first time after he begrudgingly asks for help. That, to me, is a peak Reds interaction. Brick dealing with his true self and internalized homophobia and Blossom being pure Everything Nice for him. Thats’s just *chef’s kiss*

Anyway this comment was way longer than intended lol. I just love Blossom and Brick separately and I wish they worked better together in my headcanons but I like them better as bi/gay rivals or besties rather than romantically.

[gotbreads]

Cyberpunk Tf Au Mega post : (WIP)

Subjects are due to be changed if needed

(Updated: June, 11, 2024)

In this world all cities on Cybertron have dedicated musicians that are elected through the most popular vote. There is no war, but movements for the political system to be overrun and remade. Many of the elected musicians are there to help the people, to give them strength and courage to speak against the oppressive policies the government gives them.

The aesthetics of the people differ from city to city. (Examples)

Iacon: Synthwave/Vaporwave

Kaon: Dark Synthwave

The changes also go to the different genres of music the top musicians create and play in live shows.

Iacon: Chill Electronic/Pop/Etc.

Kaon: Phonk/Metal/Etc.

With the different types of music, there are collaborations to blend different types of music together! Granted I have only really thought about Megatron and Optimus so far in this Au, I'm playing on adding Elita-1 and a few others soon though!

How the politics in this Au work: Here

How the dimension portals work: Here

Abt Optimus and Megatron:

\\Optimus -

-Stage name: DJ Synthrave

-Public & Known name: Paxius (Pax-ē-us) / Pax

>> Musician of Iacon

>Personality: Always cheerful and happy, polite, easily excitable, loves learning new things, extroverted, doesn't catch most mood swings and can't read a room (Megs has to explain A LOT to him)

REF SHEET: (Don't remove signatures)

\\Megatron

-Stage name: DJ Deathgrip

-Public name: D-16 /or 16 /or Six

-Private name: (Close circle) Tronix (Tron-íx)

>> Musician of Kaon

>Personality: Introverted, blunt, hard around the edges, secretly a softie, over analyzes everything, sounds grumpy 24/7 but actually isn't, knows a lot about everything (and can explain it in great detail)

REF SHEET 4 MEGS: (pls don't remove my signatures)

The back view is the true version of his backpack (thing), an updated ref sheet will be made soon.

>/>\\\\\</<

These two are great friends, completely inseparable. (More so if you ship Megop, which is completely up to you if you do.)

Within both of their specific cities they are under a lot of pressure due to different reasons, and the different cultures, different politics, etc. So they hide on Earth to relax (Continuities that work: Earthspark, Tfp, Idw Mtmte)

Dedicated hashtag: Tfau cyberpunk

I wanna see y'all's art, stories, and ideas! @ me if I don't see it!

[melit0n]

EUCLID ANALYSIS.

Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.

Part one -> You're already here!

Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1

Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2

Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes

Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token

Part six -> Conclusion

Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.

Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood

+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3

Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.

However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.

(we'll be coming back to him soon)

First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.

Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.

So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?

What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).

Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.

Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.

Now, onto Euclid of Megara.

Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.

This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?

So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?

The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:

Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).

Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.

So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?

[aethon-recs]

So I saw that someone requested Professor Tom but what about Professor Harry? Shouldn't we give him some love to😏😉

Thanks for the ask! I also love the Professor Potter trope. I think Harry would have made a great Hogwarts instructor, whether for Defense or Quidditch coach or even Muggle Studies.

See below for a list of some favorite Tomarrymort fics featuring Professor Potter, arranged by alphabetical order. Here is a link to my previous rec list of Professor Riddle fics.

*

Professor Potter Tomarrymort Recs

Altered Course by @crowcrowcrowthing (T, 12k, complete)

Tom Riddle has a problem. He has so many plans, so many things to learn and accomplish during his time at Hogwarts, but one professor—one charming, talented, maddeningly handsome professor—is determined to get in his way. 

Being seen & being known by Baryshnikov (M, 2k, complete)

Harry had no intentions of being seduced by his student; Tom had every intention of seducing his professor.

Costumes (part 1) / Gowns (part 2) by @neurowriter14 (E, 7k, complete)

Tom has been absolutely and utterly obsessed with his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor since his first year.

Invisible Man by RenderedReversed (T, 10k, complete)

Harry doesn’t need the Invisibility Cloak to be invisible. With an unblemished forehead, he fades into the background—utterly ordinary. Voldemort begs to differ.

I'll Eat Your Heart Out, Sir by @katsitting (E, 18k, complete)

“You smell divine, Professor,” Harry heard Riddle growl, his eyes fluttering open to stare intensely into Harry’s own, breath fanning across Harry’s lips. And then Harry recalled just what the potion was meant to do.

Life tempts, but she is ever sweeter by SpitFire97 (E, 17k, WIP)

Harry Evans, their newly annointed Defense of the Dark Arts Teacher, gets under Tom's skin like no others. It is bitter-sweet, when she learns that she does, too. Quite literally.

Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)

Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?

My Beloved, My Only by @neurowriter14 (E, 3k, complete)

After a few months, Harry and Tom are professors at Hogwarts. Harry sneaks down to Tom's rooms in the dungeons and soon finds herself there for the night.

Seduction by any other name by Baryshnikov (M, 6k, WIP)

Tom might finally have met his match—his professor.

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

To Sir, with Love by ShizukaU1 (M, 2k, complete)

Tom is devoted to the Greater Good. And what is greater than the goodness of being bed by Professor Potter himself?

Under the Mistletoe by Anonymous (T, 1k, complete) 

When the entirety of the Hogwarts populace just wants the oblivious Professors to kiss and get it over with, Scorpius, Albus, Rose, and Molly decide to take matters into their own hands.

you alone of all creatures by @duplicitywrites (E, 3k, complete)

There is no place for us in the light, where my robes bear a Prefect’s badge and you are addressed as ‘sir’, and so I have been cornering you, for weeks now, in darkened corridors and dusty, abandoned classrooms.

*

[tonystark604]

Phineas and Ferb - A fanfiction idea

I have been contemplating if I should post this for a while now, but I feel like even if no one reacts, I am at least posting that for me now.

There is this Idea I had/have for quite some time now. I recently have gone back into my obsession of Phineas and Ferb and I am really hyped about the newest season coming up soon.

And I kind of see a lot of people loving on Ferb (which is totally fine, don't get me wrong). Often when I read fanfiction about their teenage life's, it's Ferb who is the more darker version, the one who drinks and would try out drugs and stuff and it makes me wonder sometimes about a certain what if scenario.

And this what if scenario has developed in a full blown hyperfixation of me right now, so I am kinda developing a whole plot for it, just for funsies for myself right now and even drew some fanart (as a non-artist so please don't judge) and I thought I might share, just in case someone else might be interested in it.

The Plot Idea:

What if, in an alternative Universe Phineas was kidnapped as a child from his family. He is still a baby when he is kidnapped and in this universe the kidnapping would also be where Phineas' real Dad would die during, because he would try to protect Phineas, but he is obviously not strong enough. (I have not settled on a reason as to why they specifically chose Phineas).

Phineas grows up away from his family, without even knowing they exist. He gets raised in a laboratory where scientists experiment on him and other children (again, not really sure yet how they picked out those children).

It's a secret organization who's goal is to cross-engineer animal traits into the children and train them as weapons for special operations that should replace humans (as half animals/half human they would not be considered humans anymore and therefore would be worth less). This organization is funded by high ranking people in the military and the government, but it is all kept highly secretive as it is of course illegal.

A lot of children don't survive this as it is a very stressful and painful process.

Phineas does survive it though. He is being cross-engineered with a Fox, because I think it fits his character.

Baby Phineas in a tank on the left and Baby Phineas being carried back into his cage on the right, he already has fox ears there. (sorry for the bad art, its just some sketches I made)

He doesn't understand what these people want from him, but I feel like, even though they hurt him, Phineas would still have his innocence from the TV Show to some extend and would try to give his best and make them like him. Because I feel like Phineas' innocence in the show is a character trait that is just purely Phineas. He is referred to as Subject 578 and truly believes that is his name in the beginning.

On the left is Phineas seeing what the scientist had done to him and on the right is Phineas being led to another testing room from his cell, they are walking through rows of other cages with other children.

With the completion of the cross-engineering Phineas training would start. At this point he does understand that some things are wrong, but he doesn't know what exactly. He knows that some children leave their cages and never come back, but he isn't sure why. He is still convinced that this is normal, but he starts to be wary of the scientists.

This is Phineas sleeping in his cage. The only thing he has is the thin blanket. Sometimes he would wave to the other children around him, but contact is limited.

The scientists would be very intrigued by Phineas. Not only because of his high level intelligence but also his resilience and his talent. At first Phineas thought that was good and would lead to them not hurting him anymore. But soon he found out that it didn't really matter what he did, he was just an Object for them.

Phineas after a few training sessions, surrounded by scientists who give him another experimental drug to make him stronger.

When Phineas training session start, that's when he would start to understand that the scientist's are bad. They hurt them and degrade them and they don't really care about them. Phineas sees a lot of the other children die. They don't survive the harsh training and environment and that's when Phineas starts loosing some of his innocence. During the training he tries to aid the other children as much as he can, often taking the blame or guiding them/encouraging them. He behaves and does what the scientist's tell him to their excitement, all in a ploy to make them trust him and get careless.

During his time there, Phineas would gather all the information he could get. He gets sent to missions with his team, mastering them successfully. He develops into the perfect specimen the Scientist's want, until one day, when he had gathered enough information and finally manages to flee. In his escape, he destroy's the laboratory and saves those that had been held there just like him. But even though he destroyed this laboratory, he knows its not over.

In his time there he found out that this organization is an organization operating world wide, funded by multiple countries that do not know of each other (with countries I mean that there are only a few people that know of it in the government and support it, the vast majority doesn't know). The children are taken from their families at a very young age, experimented on and trained as weapons, being sold to the highest bidder for special operations deemed too risky for normal humans. Phineas was one of their greatest subjects, and the organization wants him back.

However, Phineas just wants to go and find his own family, but he knows he would bring danger to them, if he would return home like this. So he makes it his mission to hunt them down, destroy the organization one by one and show the public what was happening right underneath their noses. He would travel the world to find them and dismantle them and Phineas being Phineas would still try to make the best out of every day and have fun despite the horrors he had endured. Simultaneously he would be on the run himself as well, because the organization wants him back desperately.

Phineas would be twelve, when he would be sent to his first mission. He would be fourteen, when he would escape and he would be sixteen when he would have nearly dismantled them all. The information he would gather, he would send to a Reporter he met. He doesn't trust her, but he knows that she wants the truth for the sake of her story and carrier, which is why he trusts her enough with the information he gathers. There would only be a small piece of them left and then he could go to his family, but of course his family had other ideas and the Reporter he found wasn't as selfish as he thought.

Linda had never stopped searching for Phineas even though the police had already said it was futile. She would have still met Lawrence in this universe and married him. Ferb, who never had Phineas and therefore no one who would understand him on this deep level, would be forced to speak like every one else. Candace would be super overprotective of Ferb, as she had lost one brother once already. Ferb's inventions would never be as big as they were on the show, but he would still do some, only that they would be more helpful gadgets. He would still be friends with Isabella, Buford and Baljeet and he would still have Perry. Linda would have told Lawrence about Phineas and Lawrence would have gone on in supporting her in the search for Phineas. Linda and Lawrence would also be open about it to their children, but would be careful to not put their trauma on them. Ferb would have the same bedroom as he has on the show, but he would often imagine how it would have been growing up with a brother. Candace and Ferb would also have a very deep bond and often talk about Phineas late in the night, when the parents where already asleep. Even though Perry never knew Phineas and it wasn't his fault, since he came into the family later on, he would still feel guilty about having failed the family and use OOCA sources in secret to try and find Phineas. Even Ferb would use his brain to try and find Phineas, the brother he never met, even though they all knew how unlikely it would be to ever find him again. All of this would lead to the Flynn-Fletcher Family connecting to the Reporter, who had also tried to hunt down Phineas' family as well as alerted other law enforcements she trusts to help the child that didn't deserve all of this.

I am not sure yet how exactly they would all meet up again, but the family would get in contact with the Reporter through all of this and that would be how they would find out about Phineas. That he still lives. What he has been up to and so on and so forth. They would of course want to connect to him and help him.

Ultimately the organization would be destroyed and the Flynn-Fletcher Family would be united again, though Phineas would be different from his canon persona in that he lived through a lot of trauma. A healing journey would start, where Phineas would learn what it means to have a family and live a 'normal' life. Of course during all of this the focus would mostly be on the most important bond of the whole show, which would be the one between Phineas and Ferb. Slight hints to Phinbella would happen as well.

Obviously a lot of things are not planned in detail yet, but this would be the gist of it.

I have some more fanart I drew for this that I will post here regardless if people like it or not and I will maybe also write out a few scenes until I loose interest lol.

Part 2 here

Part 3 here