#I'm psychic its confirmed

[jazzyjj]

I just started watching today's TNTL and tell me why when Courtney said "be the opposite of what you are" I IMMEDIATELY KNEW what Shayne was gonna do! I would have staked my family's life on it. It was either gonna be that or the mf was gonna come in on Amanda's shoulders in a big trench coat.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Since you’re a ranger, have you had many encounters with Abra? And if so… have you ever seen their eyes open? My brother tells me they don’t have them, but I don’t know enough about Abra to tell for sure

they aren't native to paldea. i'm not sure that i've ever encountered one in person. my sibling's lab is currently working with abra, so i've gotten plenty of stories (most of which involve them getting teleported random places...don't ask).

that being said, i can confirm that abra do indeed have eyes! they just keep their eyes closed most of the time because they sleep so much, and they're fairly sensitive to light. their psychic abilities mean they don't need to use their eyes to detect potential dangers, so they tend to maintain at least a light doze for most of the day. there's a pretty famous picture of an abra with one of its eyes open, taken in johto like...gosh, almost 30 years ago? if you look up "winking abra" on sligoogle you'll probably find it

[mochinek0]

Daminette December: 11-Cat Crimes

Damian was worried. Alfred the cat had been wandering outside more and he would go missing for hours. He wasn't eating at home, as much, but when he took him to the vet, the claimed he was completely healthy. Out of concern, Damian fixated a camera and a tracker onto Alfred's collar. After a few hours, he noticed he was nowhere in sight and rushed to his computer. He was in downtown Gotham and it was pinging him at someone's residence.

'Was Alfred catnapped? No. He comes back every night. This isn't one of Selina's hideouts.'

Damian quickly activated the camera, only to hear at feminine voice.

"Oh, hello again." They spoke.

'Definitely not Selina. Turn around, Alfred!'

The apartment didn't look horrible for the location they were at. They likely keep to themselves to avoid being robbed.

'A bit of a mess, noticing papers in the floor. Hopefully school or work related.'

Alfred meows broke him out of his observation.

"You want food again?" They asked.

'He's getting food elsewhere. Explains why he's not hungry.'

A small bowl of fish was placed in front of his view.

'Healthy food for a cat. Likely, they own one as well.'

"Oh! You have a collar on today! So you don't belong to someone. I'm so glad!" They cried out, "I was worried you have been living on the streets."

'Someone with compassion for animals, or cats. Good find, Alfred.'

"Let's see your name." they spoke.

He was greeted by a ravenette with long hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a Gotham University shirt and black leggings.

"Um, hi. If you're watching......sorry. I had to do emergency laundry because of my cat and I haven't really fixed up the place." She stated, blushing, "You're welcome to come and pick up your cat, but he normally leaves after two hours. Plagg, you are so grounded."

'Plagg must be her cat.'

Utilizing the GPS tracker on his cat's collar, Damian arrived at an apartment complex. As he was figuring out how to locate the apartment, he spotted the girl from before.

"Miss!" he called out.

She looked down from the fire escape, confused.

"Can I help you?" she questioned.

"I'm here for my cat." he answered, "You invited me over."

"Oh! Uh, unit seven on the fourth floor." she called out, entering her window.

As she opened the door, he noticed she hadn't tried to change anything. She didn't try to impress him. Even her clothes remained the same. Something brushed up against his leg.

'Alfred!'

Damian picked up his cat, "So, this is where you have been coming."

"I'm sorry if we had you worried." the girl spoke.

"He wasn't eating at home." Damian announced, "I took him to the vet."

"Oh kwami!" she shouted, before rushing to grab her phone, "Let me pay you back! I'm so sorry!"

"There's no need." Damian replied, " Thank you for taking care of him. The vet said he was very healthy. You mentioned your cat....Plagg. Do they require medical attention? You mentioned an emergency."

The girl sighed, "Thank you, but no; Plagg the Glutton is around here....somewhere. Lazy thing. Maman fully enjoys spoiling g her furry grandchild. We lived in Paris, until last year, and she found out he loved camembert."

"The cheese most people tend to avoid?" Damian questioned.

'Is it not known for its rancid stench?'

"Yeah. He loves it." She answered, rolling her eyes, "Every once in awhile, she will send some and like a psychic, he starts meowing. I'm not kidding! Like the second it touches down in Gotham, it's like he can sense it and won't stop meowing, until I confirm that she sent him cheese. Once I tell him, he sits by the door until it gets here."

Damian smirked, amused by her cat's joy.

"Maman sent some the other day and I was in a rush to class. I had just finished laundry and I didn't close my bedroom door." She continued, "Plagg had taken some of the cheese and ate it on my laundry pile. The clothes were warm when I left so it melted the cheese."

"How unfortunate. " He declared.

She nodded, "Luckily I don't have classes, tonight. Oh I'm sorry; I haven't asked your name."

"Damian Wayne." He answered.

'Here we go.'

She smiled, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"I should get my criminal cat home." Damian spoke.

"Criminal?" Mari asked, confused.

"Breaking and entering. Loitering. Theft of property. Abandonment." He explained, as if it made perfect sense.

Marinette giggled, "Well, I'm happy to welcome Alfred the Cat back, anytime." as he turned towards the door.

Damian paused and pulled a business card out of his jacket. Marinette stared at it confused.

"Let me know when he returns so I can keep track of his eating habits." he spoke.

"Okay." she smiled.

Damian sighed, annoyed mostly. He had expected Marinette to message him constantly and act as if the were friends, due to Alfred's visits. Three weeks had passed and all Marinette had done was text 'Alfred is here' or 'He just left'. Marinette even included some pictures of what he was eating, as well. She hadn't acted like he expected her to after hearing the Wayne name. He hadn't returned to her apartment either; he had no reason to. Damian found himself somehow co-owning his own cat.

'Let's see how she likes it.'

"Oh my Kwami!" Marinette shouted, "I'll call Maman right now if it will make you stop! It's been five hours Plagg and I have a test in two days!"

"Marinette." Sabine answered, "How are you and Plagg?"

"Maman." she whined, "Did you buy him cheese?"

"No." Sabine answered, confused."

"Plagg!" she shouted, "Grandma didn't buy you cheese!"

"Is he crying?" Sabine giggled.

Mari sighed, "I….I thought it was his psychic powers working, but I guess I was wrong. I'll make an appointment to the vet."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Alfred entering her apartment, from the fire escape.

"Oh! Hello, Alfred. I-" she began, only to be stopped by the doorbell.

"Hold on, Maman." Marinette spoke, opening the door, "Oh, hello, Damian. Alfred just arrived. I was just about to text you. Uh….quick silly question, you wouldn't happen to have camembert with you?"

"I do." Damian smirked, "I'm assuming the cat at my feet is Plagg."

Marinette looked down to see Plagg rubbing against his legs.

"Kiss ass." Mari frowned, making him smirk.

"It seems Plagg's senses were correct, Maman. Alfred the cat's Dad brought him some." Mari spoke into her phone.

'Dad?'

Sabine just laughed, "I'll talk to you later, Dear."

"Bye, Maman." Marinette replied, "Say hi to Papa for me."

Mari waved Damian into her apartment and glared at Plagg as she hung up the phone.

"You know," she spoke to Plagg, "you really are a glutton. If you had been an orange cat, I would have named you Garfield."

"Why that name?" Damian questioned.

'Garfield? Reminds me of Beast Boy.'

"Have you never seen the show?" She asked, brining up a clip of Garfield stuffing his face with lasagna and pizza, "Instead of lasagna, .....camembert."

Plagg chirped, hearing his favorite word. Damian chuckled as Marinette took the cheese into the kitchen, with Plagg at her heels. She opened the container, cut it i to quarters, and set a slice into Plagg bowl.

Marinette and Damian took a seat on the couch, as they watched Plagg eat like his life depended on it. When he was done, he prance over and laid on Damian's lap.

"My statement stands....kiss ass." She declared, shaking her head in disbelief.

"We have criminal cats." Damian spoke up, "Extortion, bribery, breaking and entering."

Marinette laughed, not noticing the blush that quickly vanished from the Wayne heiress cheeks.

"So, what made you come today?" She asked, curiously.

"You." He answered.

"Me?" She gasped, blushing red.

"You peaked my curiosity. I wanted to see if Plagg was psychic and it appears you were right." Damian smirked back.

Marinette giggled, trying to calm her heart.

"I also brought you some pasta." Damian continued, "It did not seem fair to feed only him and not you."

She smiled, "I'd love some. Let's eat at the table, while the criminals enjoy their naps."

Damian nodded, setting Plagg down on the couch and taking her hand. Plagg looked to Alfred and then to his owner. He laid back down and closed his eyes.

'Maybe two owners.'

@maribat-calendar-events

TAG LIST- DAMINETTE: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

UNSPECIFIED- @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

[denaliwrites]

Don't Turn Your Back

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Part 1: Don't Blink Part 3: Don't Look Away Part 4: Dreams See Us Through

Summary: If you never see a Weeping Angel again as long as you live, it'll be too soon.

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Weeping Angels.

When the Doctor said "Let's find out why this Weeping Angel is stalking and torturing you," you weren't exactly sure how he intended to do that.

You were not expecting him to propose establishing a psychic link between you and the Angel in question.

"Absolutely not," you'd said, adamantly. "Find another way -- I won't have that thing inside my head."

"It's the only way," he'd said, and damn if he wasn't a bloody good liar.

"I hate you," you'd said.

To which he'd smiled and replied, "You know you're dying to know." And damn if you weren't convinced he couldn't read your mind, sometimes.

So now, here you sat, with some odd machine he'd fashioned out of scraps sitting atop your head. "I don't like this," you told him nervously.

"Oh, but you look great," he told you with a smile. Despite his blasé attitude, you remained unconvinced. He was a little too casual, yet for some reason he wouldn't meet your eye.

"What's wrong Doctor?" you finally asked as he adjusted the machine you wore. "Why won't you tell me the other options?"

"Because there aren't any," he said, yet again.

"Doctor, I know when you're lying."

"Because the only other option is to let you die," he snapped, voice broken and movements suddenly jerky as he was overcome with emotion. "And I will not let you die."

"Oh."

You regretted asking. And yet, you persisted.

"So this is safe?"

"No," he replied with a sigh. "But you have a better chance if we do this than if we do nothing. If we do nothing... the Angel will get bored, and..."

"It may not send me back... like the other Angels do."

"Are you ready?"

"No."

"Starting on the count of three."

He counted down, turned the machine on... and then everything went black.

You could tell something was off even before you opened your eyes, but opening them certainly confirmed your suspicions. You found yourself back in your flat, but the world around you was strangely dark and covered in thick mist -- even though you were inside.

Not a fan of that, you decided.

Walking through your flat didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, besides the darkness and the fog. There were no ghosts, no angels, no Doctor, no... anything.

You were alone.

How were you supposed to tell him? How would he know to pull you out? Those thoughts, among others, ran through your head as you made your way outside to look around the garden. Finding more nothing, you moved on to the street.

You saw the TARDIS on the other side of the road, its light dim and ominous in the oppressive dark of whatever Hell this was.

You wanted to run towards it, and into the safety of the TARDIS, but movement to your left caught your attention.

Oh.

The Angel.

You sucked in a steadying breath and walked towards it.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked as you neared. You hadn't expected your voice to echo. It freaked you out a little. This whole place did. The situation, too.

The Angel didn't answer you.

"Oh. Do I need to turn away?" you asked, genuinely. You blinked and when your eyes opened you could've sworn the Angel's lips were slightly more upturned. "Okay. I'm here to talk. I'm here in good faith. Please don't kill me... I... I'm trusting you."

It was a terrible decision, really, but what choice did you have?

So you turned -- and closed your eyes for good measure.

"Why are you doing this?" you repeated.

A voice not unlike two rocks grinding against each other whispered in your ear, "Revenge." And as quiet as that single word was, it still echoed around you.

"But I've never seen a Weeping Angel before," you whimpered. "How could I have done anything to you worth revenging over?"

"Not you," the voice whispered.

Oh. Well, the only other person that left was the Doctor.

"What did he do?" you asked, even though you didn't actually want to know.

"He killed my sisters."

"I... I'm very sorry," you started, swallowing thickly. "That must've been... terrible. I can't imagine."

"He took something from me," the voice continued, "something I loved. So now I will take from him something he loves."

A nervous laugh bubbled out of your throat. "The Doctor doesn't love me."

"Foolish human," the voice said, and there was just enough threat in those words for you to instinctively open your eyes and turn around.

The Weeping Angel was gone.

Nerves alight and mind about a hundred times more exhausted than it was when you first entered this place, you sighed and wearily turned to the TARDIS. Walking inside revealed that it was just as dark, misty, and creepy as everywhere else.

But you could see yourself sitting in one of the seats by the console, unconscious. The Doctor hovered beside you, his hands clutching yours desperately. He kept whispering to himself, but in this place they echoed right over to you, clear as day --

"Come on, come on, come on."

Over and over, just those two words.

You watched sadly for a moment before you made your way to... well, yourself. You weren't really sure how to wake yourself up, but were willing to try anything and everything that came to mind.

Which was how you found yourself going through a series of ridiculous attempts that included yanking on wires, chanting in Latin, screaming in your face, slapping your face, and dancing the hula.

After everything you tried failed, you dropped to the floor with a whimper and closed your eyes.

You awoke with a jolt, gasping desperately as if you'd been holding your breath for several minutes.

The first thing you saw was the Doctor, still hovering over you. He looked incredibly relieved to see you back, unharmed. You let him take the machine off, and though you felt incredibly heavy suddenly you let him pull you into a hug, too.

"What happened?" he asked as he pulled away. "What did it say?"

"It..." God, you were so tired. Why were you so tired? "It says it wants to kill me because you killed its sisters...?"

You could see him pondering that, eyes searching the air as he tried to recall a time he may've killed some Weeping Angels. All the while, his hands still held yours. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

If he remembered at all, he did a strangely good job of hiding it, though you supposed it helped that your sudden swaying drew his attention away. "Hey, hey," he cooed, pulling you up and into his chest. "Let's get you to bed, eh?"

You shook your head, pushing yourself gently away from him. "I need... to think. Erm. I'm gonna take a shower. And then I'll go to bed..." You nodded tiredly but resolutely and made your way to your bathroom.

The shower you took was long, just shy of blisteringly hot, and not nearly as productive as you'd hoped it would be. Your thoughts kept running in circles, or else running away from you altogether, and chasing them only served to wind your anxiety up like a rubber band about to snap.

And snap it did.

You hadn't even realized you were screaming until the Doctor was pulling you out of the water and gently shushing you. You only sort of quieted, your screams simmering down to sobs as you clung to him. He held you firmly, protectively, whispering such gentle words of comfort and encouragement in your ear even as your cries filled his.

"Oh, it's all right now," he soothed, petting your wet hair. "I won't let it hurt you, eh? I promised I'd keep you safe, didn't I?" He sighed when the only response he got was a sob, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Carefully, and much to your confusion, the Doctor managed to move to a stand with you cradled in his arms. You didn't protest as he carried you to your room (again), nor as he set you down and swaddled you up under the covers.

As you started to come down, you realized you were still naked -- that the Doctor had pulled you out of the shower and held you and carried you all while you were naked, but honestly dealing with that would have to wait until you weren't exhausted.

Once he was, seemingly, satisfied with the cocoon he'd surrounded you in, he leaned forward and pecked your forehead, then moved to leave.

"Doctor, please don't," you begged quietly, still sniffly.

He paused for only a moment before he turned back to face you, before he came to sit on the edge of your bed, before he scooted in next to you and laid beside you.

He didn't even need to speak for you to feel comforted. Even just turning to face him and nuzzling up to his shoulder had you feeling immensely better.

He rested his cheek against the top of your head and silently stared up at the ceiling as you yawned and sank into him. It took a long while for sleep to come for you, but when it finally did, it came hard and fast.

You were haunted by nightmares of moving statues.

[dcdreamblog]

Can we talk about Doctor Thirteen? While I think calling him a superhero is a stretch (I guess I can buy "the Ghost Breaker" as a supranym, but calling his penchant for retro overcoats a costume feels like a stretch), people have made the argument, and certainly he's adjacent to them, given his daughters, etc. AIUI, he's done a LOT of good work when it comes to exposing charlatans and con artists in particular, and as a detective in general, but he's also been accused of going overboard on the skepticism to the point of delusion or even bigotry.

We can, we should, and I already have but I will never turn my nose up at a chance to take another look at a topic.

(The author headshot of Thirteen from his book "My Soul and a Ten Buys a Pack")

I already gave an in depth rundown in my other post but short version is Terrence Thirteen came from a family that had long been afflicted with a "curse" causing all of its members to die by hanging at some point in their lives in frighteningly similar circumstances. After the death of his father Terrence was outcast from his community due to superstition surrounding the curse and, after unveiling the very mundane violence behind the so called "curse" swore to never again be taken in by superstition.

He became a writer, columnist and eventually a television presenter of some renown under the alias "Ghost Breaker" where he made his living debunking various cults, psychics and any other 'supernatural' happening taking advantage of vulnerable people. He still makes his living that way to this day, despite having semi retired for many years to raise his daughter Traci.

NOW, what I want to talk about is moderating some of the push back the man has received. There's a tendency in modern, open minded folks to call him a nut, to laugh at him, to dismiss him out of hand for his ironclad skepticism of the supernatural even in the face of overwhelming evidence. I'm guilty of it to.

What left me squealing to a stop in my tracks was seeing people talking about all those "poor magic users" he was bullying. Calling him a modern day Puritan. Given the court of public opinion to his opponents sight unseen of any of his work. That's not only unfair its deeply dangerous from a social point of view. Every single person that Dr. Thirteen has eviscerated in his professional life was exactly the kind of conman he found them to be and in order to fully frame that I should make one thing REAL clear. Homo Magi, the name for people who posses some inborn magical talent are RARE. They exist in DEEPLY isolated communities at the fringes of already isolated ethnic groups. In the far north of Scandinavia, the Tibetan plateau, the depths of the Amazon. There are MAYBE 20,000 full blooded Homo Magi in the GLOBAL population and 99.99% of them don't live anywhere near modern civilization. Anyone using that kind of bloodline to peddle a capitalistic living should be treated as DEEPLY suspect.

Wizards, that is, a catch all term for those with actual training and experience in the mystic arts. Are RARER. There's a reason the really powerful and respected ones are almost universally superheroes. To cultivate the kind of magical skill and talent needed to commit the kind of deeds we associate with people like Dr. Fate or Zatanna takes DECADES of training, direct support from a nonhuman power or usually BOTH. I would estimate there are maybe a couple DOZEN real, honest to god trained mages on the planet at any one time.

Yes it is possible to learn magic. It is NOT possible to learn magic in a 12 week online course. If you're learning real magic, you don't need me or anyone else to confirm it for you. Nor are you probably reading a blog post right now.

This adds onto the fact that real magic users should be able to prove themselves on command, especially when they are charging people money.

Zatanna doesn't need slight of hand to do something unarguably impossible. She does slight of hand because stage magic is her profession. In the news footage you can see her pretty clearly dropping buildings on people.

Dr. Fate doesn't need a table cloth and a fog machine to make a table rise 2 inches, he can pick up a bare stone and fling it across the room in broad daylight. The easiest way to disprove someone's magical credentials is to ask them to do something stupid without preparation. If they can do it, they're a wizard. If they can't, they're a fraud.

Dr. Thirteen's position is, in 99.999% of cases that you, I or anyone we know will ever be involved in, totally logical and more than likely correct. The things that go bump in the night have not been openly active in the human world for a LONG time. Vampires, witches and fae don't go about haunting the back alleys anymore because those who DO dabble in the mystic arts have made it very clear where the red lines are.

That thing you can't explain probably has a totally logical explanation. Even if it IS magic, there's not a whole lot you can or should do about it. There is not a SINGLE way to prove by casual observation whether something you saw was supernatural or just superhuman. The difference between an honest to god vampire and a metahuman is academic and only matters if it's trying to kill you right at that moment.

If a vampire or vampire like metahuman IS trying to kill you at that moment, your job is to stay alive and keep your head down long enough for the heroes to come along and do the job they do. If you are not the kind of person this advice applies to you already know it and don't need to listen to some idiot online about it anyway.

In my personal life I take the same stance on magic that I do on alien conquerors and the dynamics of the Green Lantern Corps.

"It does not have a single thing to do with me, and I am very much HAPPIER that way. The people who know how to handle it are handling it and thank god for that."

[skayafair]

No but it's so mind-blowing how transparent everyone in this show is relationship-wise.

It doesn't take half a brain to clock Edwin as glaringly and gloriously gay. Idk how Charles didn't reply with "oh don't you worry mate, I knew all along" in ep.6 because again, OBVIOUS.

No one said anything about Charles but basically anyone who takes a single look at him instantly knows he's bi. Like, it doesn't even need confirmation at this point although his behavior is it on its own. It's funny even how so many people watched the trailer and went "I thought he was the fruity one".

Idk about Crystal but she's giving bi vibes too, especially with her first reaction to Niko sprites be damned and purple color theme. And I know purple most likely represents her psychic abilities but idc.

We don't know about Niko but several people in the fandom (including myself) felt her experience really reflects our own - aroace spectrum one, and also she's giving lesbian/sapphic vibes. And again, from what I've seen the fandom is pretty united in this.

Niko doesn't think twice making a date with a woman for Jenny because of course she's a lesbian, no questions asked.

Also is it just me or is the Cat King pan? I refuse to believe he'd limit himself in anything when it comes to this.

And that's just for starters!

Because everyone knows there's something going on between the boys™ and it ain't straight.

Crystal knows Edwin's jealous and the show is trying to sell it as "jealous as a friend who doesn't get all the attention anymore" but it's fooling no one (and I believe not Crystal either).

Edwin does gets jealous immediately when Crystal comes into the picture because Charles has a crush on her from the first sight and it's obvious.

Crystal and Charles are very clear with their feelings and intentions towards each other.

Charles immediately smells something fishy with the Cat King and Monty and turns his jealousy full volume, like even Edwin wasn't THIS persistent with prodding despite being more vocal about it.

Despite the fact that Edwin's coming out technically happens in ep.6, NO ONE bats an eye when he's starting to hang out with Niko A LOT. Charles, who - see above - was immediately alarmed by the Cat King and Monty, has absolutely no problem seeing how close his dearest friend grew with the new girl on the team. Partly it's because Niko is a member of their group and is friendly with everyone, including Charles, but STILL. Niko is the only one besides Charles who's allowed the physical contact to the point of pretty tight hugs and handholding. Yet it doesn't even cross anyone's mind that there might be anything but friendship between these two. BEAUTIFUL *sheds a tear*

So like. I'm ND so human relationship is usually even more confusing to me than to a neurotypical person, and I know it's very complicated as is, to everyone. That's why seeing a show where everything is so EASY and crystal clear without simplifying things to a cardboard state was such a relief and a comforting experience. It's just nice to have it easy for once.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 11/06

@ben-guy asked: […] Imagine the Greek god level drama that would have unfolded with those 12 drama machines if they all went God tier. Even if they all entered the human universe without the two teams fighting over who gets to rule it, there would be no ending the divides that would form for any and all reasons, from quadrants to rulership over Kanaya's new trolls. Kinda curious about your takes on all this, even if it will take a while for you to see this :]

That's exactly it. Vriska's assuming that having a more powerful team would be strictly beneficial - which is hilarious, coming from her.

Like - Vriska. What have you done with your God Tier powers, lately?

Did it benefit the team?

Anonymous asked: its really interesting how the first time vriska kills not out of necessity or due to any extenuating circumstances, she almost immediately regrets it

Yup.

I think it's beginning to dawn on Vriska that she has nothing to hide behind this time. She's stopped being forced to kill, and has graduated to choosing it. It's little wonder she's falling apart.

Anonymous asked: for what it's worth, i've always taken vriska's interpretation of sburb at face value. it's a setting, or a stage, moreso than a character or an organism

Sburb certainly feels like a narrative, which is closely tied to its coming-of-age themes. John isn't John in the game, he's a character called the Heir of Breath from Consort mythology, and it's predestined that he'll fulfil this narrative role - or else.

Sburb is a play. And if you mess up your lines, the stage will collapse underneath you.

@manorinthewoods asked: You know, during your original analysis of the Creation Myth reveal, you made a lot of notes about how the Denizen grist caches must have been comically large, or multiplicative, to allow the alchemisation of universes. Clearly there is no need for that, given the Genesis Frog, so… what is it for, do you think? ~LOSS (7/6/24)

This grist is confirmed to be for the Ultimate Alchemy, which I've been assuming is synonymous with the creation of the Genesis Frog. I guess Jade's currently creating the Frog without any Denizen Grist to speak of, but I assume it'll come into play later on.

My best guess? The frog has to literally eat the Denizen Hoards to grow into a full-sized universe.

Anonymous asked: I wanted to stop by and say your liveblogs are super interesting!! Back when I first read homestuck I didn’t really bother with analysis, just kinda screamed inchoherentoy at my friends, so actually seeing the narrative and char arcs broken down like this into understandable chunks of why might it be written this way, what is the char thinking, why are they thinking that, how does that play into what might happen - it’s super cool thank you for all this !! Anonymous asked: finally catched up with your liveblog, i have been a homestuck for like a semester and i am rlly happy to see someone go this in depth on a liveblog about it! Anyways! Whats the character you relate the most to, so far? - bralsra

Thank you very much!

It's funny. I've talked before about how I was never great at writing analytical essays in English class - but I'm essentially doing the same thing here, and I'm having a great time. I guess it's just more fun when it's a science fantasy webcomic and not, like, Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Who do I relate to the most, I wonder? To be honest, it's probably Kanaya, which probably isn't too surprising if you're a regular reader.

I've said things that are 90% similar to the shit she comes out with. She's so great.

@manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to hear your thoughts on each individual blood caste[…]. ~LOSS (7/6/24)

It's hard to generalize the blood castes, since we've only seen one example of each blood color thus far. Broadly speaking, we're aware that:

Lower bloods have more psychic power.

Higher bloods have more psychic resistance.

Highbloods appear to be physically stronger.

Kanaya's blood color is extremely rare, which implies that, contrary to my expectations, higher blood isn't always rarer than lower blood.

Beyond that, I can't say much more. Based on Karkat's position in the Trollian friend list, he was probably 'supposed' to have green blood, but I don't know if mutating out of the spectrum has actually changed his biology in any way.

He's not psychic, so we can at least assume he doesn't 'count' as being on the bottom of the hemospectrum.

@john-egbert-rose-lalonde asked: the searcherrrrrrrr

"why so discarded" - the drawer

Anonymous asked: Hey, since you like to experiment with stuff, what dl you think would happen if a Tier 2 Sprite prototyped itself into a Tier 1 Sprite?

Great question. I went in-depth into it during a previous ask - although I can imagine it's quite a rare occurrence. How often are two unprototyped Sprites on the same Land?

Anonymous asked: While I think a discord server is a good idea, I think it might be best for everyone if it's one where only you and those helping you with the blog can post anything. That might ruin the community aspect a little, but I feel like it'd be worth it to not get spoiled if you do ever make one. Feel free to completely ignore this- not exactly riveting things I'm sending here.

Right! Quick update on the Discord situation.

Initially, I was going to have Cat help me set it up, but she's been incredibly busy with her thesis lately. Plus, she hasn't really used the platform either, so we had no idea what we were doing. Might need to shelve the Discord server idea until later, or until it becomes necessary.

@krixwell asked: John Egbert when he's told the Earth is done for: John Egbert when his friend is his sister and his dad is his half-brother: John Egbert when he dies ignoble deaths at the hands of manipulators: John Egbert when Fruit Gushers are a Betty Crocker product: MENTAL BREAKDOWN

Dude's got his priorities straight.

@mhafanlol2000 asked: I’m taking an IT course next year, and I want a head start during this summer. Would you know any free beginner’s courses to any languages that would help in that department?

I'll always champion W3Schools as a great first port of call for tech self-learning. All the resources I've found there are well-put together, and let you test your code out in-browser.

As I mentioned to a previous asker, I'd recommend starting with the C language if you're genuinely interested in programming. It's a little harder to use than other, more high-level languages, but it'll teach you more about programming than they will. I'd liken it to learning to drive in manual, rather than automatic. You lose nothing, and acquire skills you wouldn't otherwise know about.

@caliquill submitted:

i'd like to briefly point out this tidbit of the first conversation eridan has with kanaya @krixwell asked: Gamzee to Equius, page 2221: "iF i CoUlD mAkE yOu SmIlE iT'd Be ThE bEsT fUcKiN mIrAcLe I eVeR dId PaRt Of." @dopplesgryndthloggle asked: I'm just gonna put this here: pg 2221 TC: WhAt CaN i Do To MaKe A bRoThEr FuCkIn ShApE hIs ShIt Up? TC: iF i CoUlD mAkE yOu SmIlE iT'd Be ThE bEsT fUcKiN mIrAcLe I eVeR dId PaRt Of. TC: hOnK hOnK hOnK! :o)

...this comic is going to go absolutely wild on a reread, isn't it?

Anonymous asked: oh god no, the clown got you :(

Thanks for the migraine, Gamzee!!

@5am-nztime asked: Insert the one millionth "The Heir of Void, Devoid of Air" joke you've probably gotten. I love dramatic irony

You're actually the only person who sent this one in - and I'm glad you did. It's kind of killing me.

Anonymous asked: a common interpretation is that equius smiles because he knows nepeta might find his body and he doesn't want her to think he died in pain :((

Shit, that's kind of devastating. That said, he had no reason to think Gamzee would leave his body where it was - but that said, he clearly wasn't thinking straight at the time.

Anonymous asked: fun little detail: the ==> leading to equius taking an arrow to the knee is replaced with an arrow, -->

He used to be a Sgrub Player like us :(

Anonymous asked: The idea that he somehow has the freakin' WARHAMMER OF ZILLYHOO in his jokerkind specibus but he STILL only brings out a low-tier pair of juggling clubs is somehow even more intimidating

Where did he even get the thing? When did he get it? Is this from before or after the Pen-Pal got their hands on it?

...if Gamzee is the Pen-Pal, I'm quitting the comic.

@morganwick asked: Well, as long as you don't know for sure whether Nepeta died, you could say… she's both alive and dead until she's observed? @ipunchvampires asked: By cutting away from Nepeta's fate, it's technically ambiguous right now whether she's alive or dead, since we cannot observe her. So you could say that she… heh heh, that she's Sch… she's Schröding…

....oh, god damn it.

Anonymous asked: I feel like there should be an intermission style counter. 4/12 Alien Children Murdered.

If you include Aradia and Vriska, the tally's up to seven. Murderstuck started a long time ago, it seems.

Anonymous asked: i would like to think equius says b100 like how boris johnson says blue in that one interview where he mentions the us brand new BLUE passports or whatever

I also think his voice suits Equius's character fairly well...

Anonymous asked: To be fair on the “overwhelmingly violent purplebloods” angle, Gamzee was stoned out of his mind basically 24/7 until they got to the meteor, so they probably would’ve thought it was a nonissue. […]

I suppose. But if everyone knows purplebloods are habitual murderers, I don't know why you'd ever let one into your friend group. There's always a possibility that one day, his slime delivery will be late, and he'll snap your neck for fun.

@wickedsick asked: You know, this would be the perfect spot for a paradox space intermission. You can read the fluffy comics to wash the taste of blood out of your mouth!

I thought about it - but in the end, I decided to liveblog the Paradox Space comics at the point in the comic where they were released.

Otherwise, Cat'd have to spoiler-check each comic with a fine-toothed comb, and I'd have to delay many of them anyway. Better to get them all out at once.

Anonymous asked: considering that eridan was on feeding duty for gl'bgolyb and had to kill lusii year round under apocaliptic threat im not surprised his response under pressure is to kill something

It really says a lot about the difference between him and Vriska, doesn't it? Vriska's reaction to killing Tavros was a full on existential crisis, but Eridan's first reaction to killing Feferi was to immediately kill again.

@witchoflight asked: hey sally i just wanna remind you of the conversation that dave and gamzee have, specifically about the line: "TC: My mInD'S NoT ThAt sHaRp nOw tHoUgH, iT'S BeEn aGeS SiNcE I HaD A GoOd pIe" gamzee hasn't had access to sopor for WEEKS, not since they entered the game. […]

Was he sober, though? He's still acting stoned, and using his original quirk, so if he did sober up, he must have immediately decided to pretend he didn't, and then arbitrarily reveal himself as sober later on.

To me, it feels like it just took a while for the slime's effects to fully fade. It might genuinely have taken a month for it all to leave his system.

@mimescantscream asked: Now that Gamzee has swiftly become the most important character, any thoughts on his transformation?

It's weirdly drastic, isn't it?

Like, if he was hiding this personality under sedatives this entire time, surely we should have seen some hint of it, in all the time we've known him. We've even been in his head, and he seemed like exactly who he appeared to be.

Was Gamzee unaware of this latent personality? Do we have a Jekyll and Hyde situation on our hands? He does say he's 'both' of his messiahs...

@elkian asked: You've now reached the point where I can (probably) say that the common fandom Exile match for Kanaya is Problem Sleuth, as he has the Vampire schema mode. (Plus a jade-green ultimate attack.)

Oh, I love that for her. We better be seeing Team Sleuth in some form before the end, even if it's just a cameo.

@krixwell asked: I think you're blaming the wrong chat program. Trollian is an advanced alien chat program powered by futuristic sci-fan shenanigans, with features specifically designed to allow the user to choose the timeframe at which they try to contact someone. Pesterchum, not so much. Pesterchum if anything is retro, with only the most barebones of 1-on-1 chat features, a status setting that barely changes anything unless you're rancorous, and a block feature that seemingly fails to recognize incoming Trollian connections from the same user at different times (possibly Trollian's fault). Even setting aside the frogskin barrier, it's a wonder the two programs can communicate at all. So when someone uses Pesterchum to contact a Trollian user whose timeline is entirely separate from their own, with no interface to pick a timeframe on, how exactly is either program supposed to know when to contact them?

I guess most of our nonlinear conversations have been Trollian-to-Pesterchum.

Karkat has tied himself into knots over memos, but that is admittedly a slightly different use case.

And can I just say, I love the concept of a 'frogskin barrier'. These two parties have been beaming messages from frog-to-frog this entire time, and the walls between their dimensions are literally made of skin.

@captorations asked: consider: this means that the sbahj joke that following kanaya's death was actually foreshadowing given the comic it's from

I can't fucking believe this.

Anonymous asked: tbh i'll never get over how the presumable FIRST THING kanaya did upon coming back to life was just. to wade through the horn pile to drink blood from a corpse.

Vriska's getting a little competition for Troll Of All Time!

@morganwick asked: I mean, technically Jade was already in the Fruity Rumpus Asshole Factory, it was just with two Karkats and Dave only made a brief appearance.

16-player fruity rumpus argument or we riot

Anonymous asked: do you think you'll liveblog tsg if you read it?

I wasn't planning on it, but if there's a lot of demand, I'll definitely think about it. If I was to liveblog any fanfic, it'd probably be that one, since it's a proper 'event fanfiction' from the author of TLT.

Anonymous asked: re: the ultimate riddle: karkat actually already explained it on page 1903. basically its just some more timeloop/alpha timeline predestination stuff

The sense I got was that there was a section of the conversation that we missed.

On Skaia, John begins a conversation with an early version of Karkat about the Ultimate Riddle, but the camera moves away before they really get into it. Then, on the Veil, an early Karkat shows up to continue a point he was making about the Riddle, implying that there's a section of this conversation that was deliberately obfuscated.

I initially thought that the Riddle was the mystery of Sburb itself - ie, what the point of the game is. I still think that's probably pretty close, but I do wish we got this full conversation, just in case.

Anonymous asked: “Scratch positioned [Vriska] as someone who will perpetuate a monumental, large-scale mistake, and I don't think there's anything she could do on the Veil that fits the bill.” When John was about to prototype jades sprite with a broken doll, Vriska made him fall asleep, and Becquerel jumped in the sprite instead, leading to Jack Noir becoming an unbeatable boss and destroying the trolls session. I think that could be the perpetuation of a large scale mistake.

Possibly. But as violent as Jack is, I don't think he's a huge threat to the rest of the multiverse.

He takes hours to rampage through a session, but there are presumably trillions of sessions out there in the multiverse. From a top-level perspective, he's not doing meaningful damage, and it's certainly within Vriska's comprehension.

I actually think Vriska's going to do something much worse than make Jack. If she contributes to the creation of Lord English, for example, she might be breaking something that can't be repaired.

Anonymous asked: Honestly its a little sad though right? That the troll kids are snapping and dying? Like yeah they were raised on a violent murder planet but also, they're all still 13 years old and have been without their means of Sleeping Naturally for a while (the sopor slime is how trolls usually get sleep) not being an apologist or anything but the murders could've been prevented with healthy moraillegences and good nights sleep.

Oh, it's horrific, that should go without saying. If the trolls had got some decent shuteye, it'd have kept them stable for at least slightly longer.

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on mega jynx? They finally found it in the leaks…

(Note: I'm not doing proper reviews of beta Pokemon, because they're basically WIPs and it's not fair to judge designs that were never meant to be seen. That said, I'm fine just offering quick opinions and whatnot.)

Kind of amazing we have a design for Mega Jynx at all after vaguely knowing about its existence for years through audio files. Finally, after years of speculation about what the design was and why it was scrapped, we finally get to see it, and it's... kind of mid?

In terms of it being a mega, not much seems to have changed in a way that gives a sense of progression, if that makes sense. The dress is different, but not really more complex. The eyes are different, but once again, not really in a way that connects to the original design. The body shape is the same, minus maybe the breasts being bigger (which, side note, is the last thing I really wanted to see progress here). The hair is drastically exaggerated, but when people think about Jynx, I don't think hair is the first thing that comes to mind.

I do like some of the changes made here—the eyes seem to have a vague hypnosis idea to them because it's a psychic-type, and the dress in particular looks very winter-y and actually gives the design something to make it look like an ice-type, something badly missing from regular Jynx (side note: where are its legs??). But as a whole, it doesn't really look like a mega Jynx; almost looks more like a regional form or something.

To address the elephant in the room, we have confirmation from the leaks that this design was scrapped due to fears of controversy. I don't think it's any worse than regular Jynx—things like the eyes in particular at least move away from the worst parts of Jynx's design. However, I think a mega Jynx, in general, is a bad move because this is the alternate design. Any form where you have to draw attention to regular Jynx all the time is kind of a poor idea. It's why I've advocated for Jynx getting a regional, as that's the one form where you wouldn't need to interact with the original in any capacity.

Overall, though, I think scrapping this was a good choice. Controversy aside this was kind of a bland design anyway, so I don't think Jynx fans are missing out by GameFreak cutting this one.

[beifong-brainrot]

I keep thinking about Yakone and how he would use bloodbending for crimes. Because, obviously, your first thought would be that he just used it for combat, like we see multiple bloodbenders do. A skill like his would easily dominate the turf wars we see triads engage in.

But that would make it much easier to accuse him of bloodbending, unless he killed everyone he was sure wouldn't snitch, which would be difficult, since triad fights often happen in the streets, and are relatively high profile.

So my assumption is he would do it from a secure location, not in the heat of battle, hiding his skill and manipulating people from the shadow, like Hama did with her victims. Which is terrifying.

I always imagined he would use his psychic bloodbending to "compel" his victims. Perhaps he would force his enemies/rivals to put themselves in dangerous situations in order to... remove them. If not maybe by giving them a brain aneurysm lol. Perhaps forcing someone to sign contracts, etc. If there are witnesses, what are you gonna do? Say your arms were doing it on their own? Who cares if your movements were a little stiff?

Like from the clearest description of bloodbending we have, from one of Hama's victims, it of course doesn't register as a bending hold.

Ding : Didn't see no spirit, just felt something come over me, like I was possessed. Forced me to start walking toward the mountain. [Points to the mountain.] I tried to fight it, but I couldn't control my own limbs. It just about had me into a cave up there. [Imitates a walking puppet.] And I looked up at the moon for what I thought would be my last glimpse of light.

Imagine the terror he would sew in Republic City. Rumours of people losing control of themselves, going into episodes where their body doesn't cooperate with them. Especially when it happens anywhere but the full moon, so no one expects bloodbending.

They made him so scary for no damn reason. Also, I headcanon that the Red Monsoon triad is what was left of the triad Yakone led. Bcs Red Monsoon is obviously very blood-coded, I've made enough period jokes about it at this point.

And that the random shack with a fully metal cage ain the basement Tarrlok had used to be one of the hideouts/bases/torture basements Yakone's triad used to use in its hayday. Which I'm pretty sure is confirmed in the commentary lol.

[coeuranxieux]

also for general note. im trying for the most part to decide where everyone's livinf (they live in galar cause i'm biased sorry to make them all british......)

as ive said earlier andrew lives in hammerlocke! throughout the game he kind of. lives in the dungeons beneath hammerlocke (for those who havent played swsh its not a bad arrangement! very spacious very safe do not fret) but once he actually like. gets a job and stuff he moves into one of the houses :] (it's never explicitly said that he resides in the chambers but it's very heavily implied, basically confirmed by some of the dialogue he has in the house he's in post game but never outright said)

luca i think lives in motostoke, but i think he'd be from wyndon. mainly because wyndon is the big fancy capital, but motostoke is a smaller city and is water powered! theres gears everywhere! the general vibe of motostoke feels like luca. i think he'd like the train station as well :]

norton is a spikemuth local!! imagining him doing a handful of odd jobs to help out piers and stuff seems like something he'd do. plus despite it being a sort of rundown town in disrepair it still has a lot of life and i think thats very fitting for norton! its also "conveniently" near the second galar mine (which is where wimpods are found btw.... to reference another post i made)

frederick i think would reside in a smaller town. probably hulbury (in reference to oceanis) and he strikes me as someone who'd like seafood. plus, there's a very nice view of the ocean! grace also lives here, its a fishing town so i think she'd be in her element perhaps.

ithaqua is definitely a ballonlea resident, though he could also be from circhester since that's a very cold snowy area. it's just past the cursed and spooky and ominous glimwood tangle (my beloved) and i think he could probably spook a few people there as like, a local rumor mayhaps (not sure what i wanna do w him yet tho...)

orpheus definitely still lives in wyndon, since its the big fancy capital of everything. not much to say about him.......

demi to me seems like she'd have moved to one of the bigger cities, maybe from milo's town (i forget what its called currently, but its a small farmers village). i think she'd work in a battle cafe (parallels to her canon job) and i kind of wanna put her in hammerlocke as well for the coworker norton potential..... after reading her story i think they'd be friends (ooh thinking about it this way i think she'd work with dragon types well too. maybe her ace is an appletun......)

i think emil could also be a ballonlea resident! it definitely fits the dreamy spacy vibe he has, and i think he'd also be either a fairy type or a psychic type specialist :]

without a doubt. victor is from/lives in postwick. it's a small small regular town. come on, even the name fits him!!! postwick??? postman with a dog named wick???? thats him. his town. postwick was made for him send tweet

i'm unsure where to put aesop,,, very unsure,,,,,, i'll have to let him steep for now.....

[carrots-bear]

Fire and Rain, by Bear

Donnie has walked through his brother's time-gateway. Now, he is exactly twenty-two years before when he just came from. The only difference is, this place is safer than it was, or would have been. Hamato Donatello shall seek his long late family, and it will be nothing what you'll expect. (Or maybe it will be exactly what you expect, I'm not exactly psychic!)

Chapter 1

2022 — Three weeks post-invasion|

Donatello walked through the portal, weary from what had just happened, his brother’s— erm— his katanas in hand as he shielded his face from the sudden brightness. He took a deep breath of fresh air that he forgot he was missing out on; he opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eye adjusted to the sun— which he forgot the Earth had. He was on a roof-top, a familiar one, though he couldn’t quite place which one it was. After his eye fully adjusted, the purple-masked turtle saw that there were still Kraang parts scattered around the city that he had once been able to protect. What? What’s going on? I would have expected Casey Junior to succeed on his mission…

As Donnie looked closer with his mono-ggle, he realized that most of the Kraang matter had been deactivated, terminated, or contained at this point. “So,” Donnie said to himself, “while New York isn’t in its best state— haha, state; ‘Nardo would be proud of me for that one. Anyways, while NYC isn’t exactly looking its beeeessst… it’s still standing, and looking better than the one I came from.” He looked around gladly, and—“Oh, not again.” Donnie put the katanas back in their sheath so that he could untie his mask and wipe his eyes. “Dum-dum universe decide that the dum-dum explosion would only mess up my eyesight. Tch,” he said bitterly as he rung out his mask. He held his left wrist up to his mouth after he had re-tied the mask and ordered, “D-Tech, reset clock to the correct year, month, day, hour, minute, and second.”

There was a robotic ding and Donatello’s own pre-recorded voice responding,

“Reset time to: Year - 2022 | Month - May | Day - 10th | Hour - 16:39:25 seconds and counting |”

“Confirm change.” Another robotic ding confirming that the time had been saved. Donatello pressed a button to close the screen before looking out at the world around him; everything he had hoped for, dreamed for! but nothing he expected. “Honey-nut oatmeal and raisins, twenty-twenty-two……Shell, I’m old.” He looked back to the roof-top he had happened upon and wondered why it felt so familiar. “Well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Donnie said as he jumped down.

He looked around a bit more and then asked himself, what he thought was a very important question. “Soooooo, where to now? I’m here, I’m alive, and there’s no Kraang butt to kick. I have no brothers, sisters, sister-in-laws, nieces, ne…phews.” He thought for a second then, remembering how this world hadn’t met it’s end— at least, not yet— the same way as Donatello’s own world. “Hmmmm, I wonder…” He moved a bit more into the shadows of the ally-way he was in, remembering how much humans hated things they didn’t understand in this day and age.

He lifted his gauntlet up to where he could easily view it and type on it. The soft-shell pulled up his tracking file to see what he could see. “Well I’ll be a Kraang’s uncle. He’s actually here! Yes! Genius Built™️ tech never fails.” Right on the map, in the location of Donatello’s old home, before the Kraang attacked, was a blinking maroon dot shaped as Casey Junior’s face. “How did he find the old Lair!?” Donnie exclaimed to himself.

“Hmmm… It’s twenty-twenty-two, and-- what am I saying? Casey’s a smart kid, courtesy of me, of course. Also courtesy of me, he has Genius Built™️ technology, complete with a digital map, tracker, navigator, and other AI features. Not to mention anything else he might have taken here with him to survive and aid him that I am unaware of or forgetting. Nevertheless, that does not explain how he found the Lair…” He tapped his chin and thought as he looked at the map and the blinking dot-face. Then it struck him, and it was so obvious it was painful, in light of recent events. ‘Nardo drew the Key on the back of an old picture of us and gave it to him. Still, if I weren’t such a literal person, I’d say that kid’s a genius. Then he focused the map in on his own purple point, and entered Casey’s location into the GPS. “Now, where’s a manhole cover…”

“If you walk farther down the ally you should see one, but I don’t know why you would wanna go down there unless you’re used to it. Or unless you like that kind of stuff, for some reason.”

The lone turtle froze. He recognized that voice, but it had been so long since he had heard it, he almost couldn’t, almost wouldn’t believe it.

“Ummm, I’d not think you’d be that scared of me;” the disembodied voice replied, seeming to take his stiffness incorrectly, ”I’m just a girl coming back to her momma for dinner and you’re… bigger than I am. Man, how tall is that? Seven feet?”

Yup! He definitely knew this girl, and he didn’t know how he was going to respond. While he was trying to swallow the tears that were definitely yet to come, (who he assumed was) April started putting the pieces together. “Hold on, I recognize that coat…It’s my lucky jacket! They only sold them for a limited amount of time, in a few specific sizes, and only one style and design and color. Not in…whatever size you’re wearing, and the length that it’s in. Hey, that only has stitches where mine does. But I’m wearing mine, so you couldn’t have stolen it from me….Is that a purple mask…?”, she asked as Donatello straightened up to his full height and tried to compose himself.

“Yes, it is,” he said in a choked, weary voice. He turned around, only to find what he expected. As if he wasn’t having trouble keeping it together already, the time space continuum decided to throw this at him. He teared up at the sight of April, though she was younger and less scathed than Donnie remembered. Still, it was her. The tears were now flowing like a healthy stream as the two looked at each other. Now that was just perfect, wasn’t it?

“Don…nie?”, she asked as she looked him up and down again.

"Yes,” he answered, looking away from her now.

April advanced towards him, examining him more closely. “Well, if you’re telling the truth, you’re definitely not my Donnie. You’re going to ask how I know that, so it’s because Raphael currently will not let him get out of bed except to use the restroom. As in, Raph basically lets Donnie leave the med-bay for as long as a worm surfaces on dry day, and then only so much more than that. Dee hates it, even though he knows Raph is just a tad bit worried and restless.”

“RAPH’S ALIVE!?!?!?!?”, Donatello exclaimed, his breaths coming short and quick. Don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate DON’T HYPERVENTILATE— He looked back down towards April and searched her face for some sort of joke. Actually, now that he thought about it, was this— April standing in front of him, and ranting to him about this timeline’s version of himself’s safety, a joke? Was it a dream?

“Yes, thank goodness,” she sighed with relief.

“You…are alive? You’re real, and this isn’t the universe tricking me into a dream?” He spoke as he stooped down so that they were at eye-level.

April looked at him, concerned, knowing immediately that this was her best friend, her brother, even if he did hail from somewhere else. “Yes, I’m here. I’m alive and well, and there’s no more danger— wait, let me rephrase that. There’s no more danger than anyone wants. You can relax.” She put her hand on his shoulder, what April usually did to say without words, ‘Tell me what I can do for you.’ Donatello yanked her into an almost crushing hug¹, and hid his face in her shoulder. “Oh!”, she exclaimed, a bit shocked by his sudden movement, but she hugged back, just like he remembered she used to. She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and said, “I just got back from the Lair to have dinner with my mom at home. She’s been taking care of injured humans and yokai alike these past few days. She’s also met my brothers and Splints now. Would you like to stay here for a bit, or continue on to— wherever you’re going?”

“Thank you for the offer; I would love to stay,” Donnie said, breaking away from the hug. His watery eyes looked at April’s face. She smiled reassuringly at him, and he couldn’t hold back a small sad, happy laugh. “I can’t believe it! You’re actually here!”, Donnie said disbelievingly.

“Come on,” she said grabbing his hand and tugging on it.

“You can’t drag me like before, remember?”, Donnie stated amusedly.

“Just get up so I don’t have to wait for dinner any longer, m’kay? I’m starving!” She walked up a few steps and opened the door. “Moooooooom, I’m here! And I have a surprise guest!”

“A surprise guest, hm? Well, how much does this ‘surprise guest’ eat?”, Carol O’ Neil asked, as Donatello followed April into the house, having to duck because of his height. “There’s only so much edible food that survived the invasion, and we’re nearly out.” He looked at the doctor, a spoon in the right-hand and the other on her hip, no different than what Donatello remembered as well.

“I’ll eat only as much as I’m allowed to,” he responded, smiling a bit timidly at this not so new face.

Dr. O’ Neil looked him up and down with a doubtful eye. “April, I will never understand how you befriend these strange people on the streets and in suspicious ally-ways, but you go to school and you’re the most socially awkward young lady in all of New York!”

Donnie outright laughed at this. He had forgotten about that! Still, somehow, at the same time he always sort of remembered. “Oh! That’s hilarious! I had almost forgotten about that,” he said once he recovered. “I am terribly sorry for the improper introduction. I am Donatello from a separate bifurcated time branch. I already know who you are, though. In any case, do you have a preference as to what I call you?”, he asked, extending his hand and smiling all the while.

“You can call me whatever you’d like, hon,” she responded accepting his hand. Her grip never changed, Donnie thought fondly. ”April, could you set the table? I’m going to finish up dinner,” Carol ordered requested as she walked back towards the stove and oven. “So how long will you be staying here?”, she asked as she stirred the soup.

“Probably just for dinner. I’m trying to find my nephew, and I’d like to find him soon,” the purple-masked turtle responded.

“Your nephew, mm? Now why would he be in this time branch? Unless you know for sure that he is?”, Dr. O’ Neil wondered.

“Hm, I suppose I’ll have to explain everything, won’t I? Well, have either of you met Casey Junior?”, he inquired.

“Yes,” the two women responded, the younger curious in tone.

“He’s my nephew.”

“WHAT!?!?!?!?!?”, April exclaimed. “How is a human boy your nephew?”

“Have you ever heard of adoption?”, Donnie asked sarcastically.

“A— bu— wha… Who’s the father then?”

“Leo,” Donatello answered, no doubt crossing his mind, much less wandering into his voice.

“But he calls Leo ‘Sensei’!!!!!”, April protested, confusion of the utmost written all over her face.

“Well, there weren’t any papers to sign in the apocalypse, now were there?”

“What would that have to do with calling him ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’ or whatever anyways?”

“They weren’t ready yet. Plus, Casey Junior wouldn’t call Leo ‘Dad’ or anything like that unless his sister said she viewed Leo as anything more than a Master, a leader, a President-of-the-Apocalypse if you will.”

“…Casey didn’t say he had a sister.”

“Hm, that’s strange, the two were nearly inseparable. Fun fact: not only were they siblings, they were twins. Yes, twins; scientifically even! That’s something I wish I could say if, I’m being completely honest.”

April just stood there, processing every single bit of information before Dr. O’ Neil walked over and spooned dinner into the respective dishes. “Well, that’s a lot to process, i’n’ it?”

“Yep,” April said, going over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Oh, maybe it’s a bit different from when you come from, uhm, other Dee, but no weapons at the table here,” the young woman said as she dried her hands off.

“Oh, of course,” Donnie said, quickly taking off the coat he was wearing, removing the nunchucks from his belt, the bō and swords’ sheaths from his back, and the quote-on-quote “sheath” for April’s base-ball bat— the April from his home time-branch. The O’ Neils watched him, surprised by the amount of weapons— and scars— on him. “Should I remove my prosthetic as well? I don’t want to go through the hassle of disabling it’s more harmful mods, and it automatically turns off when it’s not hooked up,” he pondered.

“No— no, it’s fine dear. How ‘bout you wash your hands now and then come sit down for some nice, tortilla² soup,” Carol said.

“Tortilla soup!? Oh, it has been a while since I’ve had anything that will actual sustain myself, much less something that good!” Donnie said as he walked over to the kitchen sink.

“Really? What did ya’ll eat in the apocalypse? Besides rats, CJ already told us about that,” April shuddered.

“Well, there were bugs, but not a whole bunch of people were desperate enough for that. After the world had run out of what had already been stored up is when we started eating rats, mice, rabbits, possums, or any other animal that was not claimed by the Kraang or as a pet that we could find. No, we did not eat Lieutenant Mayhem or or any sort of cat or dog. We weren’t complete savages,” Donatello explained.

“‘Lieutenant Mayhem’? That was a joke, right? No offense, Mayhem,” April said looking at a corner where the fluffy little dog-cat-thing sat curled up. He squeaked, showing that he had taken offense.

“No, it was not a joke. If you are sentient enough to give, take, and follow orders, as well as the physical capabilities to do so, you are given an official position.

“And something else that isn’t a joke, is how SPECTACULAR this soup is! Though, something lighter would have been better after not eating much these past few weeks, you won’t find me complaining about actual food!”

“A few weeks?”, Dr. O’ Neil asked, concerned.

“I thought that your brothers and I would have drilled it into your head that you need to eat three meals a day by now!” April glared at him and stirred her soup.

“Heh, like I had many other options. Leo and I were hiding from the Kraang for as long as we could, anywhere we could, for the weeks following Casey’s departure,” Donnie provided, lifting another spoonful to his mouth.

“Ah. I don’t know what to expect at this point,” April commented after pausing.

“If you’ve been through all that, you must be hurt one way or another. Let me patch you up after dinner, alright dear?”, Carol suggested after taking a few more bites.

“Sounds great. Thanks, Dr. O’ Neil,” Donnie smiled gratefully at her.

“Anytime, Don.”

A few more minutes of silence went by, the time in which Donatello absolutely inhaled his dinner (not literally folks, dw). “So, remind me what your into these days. It’s been about, pffffffff, twenty-two years since I was sixteen— and fifteen years since I’ve seen you,” Donnie prompted as he stretched in his chair, muttering the last part to himself so that the O’ Neil’s couldn’t hear him. He was happy to see April again and wouldn’t waste a minute of it.

“I’m majoring in journalism at my college; planning on bein’ a news journalist for Channel 6, if I can get the job. They're looking to get a section in the paper approved for them, and then they'll start hiring people in a couple of months.”

“Oh, I’m positive you will get the job. You were always good at getting messages across at debriefs and for mission logs. Our data collection missions were always successful in the early days as well,” Donatello reminisced.

“What’s the early days for you?”, Carol asked, question in her gaze.

“Anytime in my life before my mid-twenties or my thirties; I haven’t decided yet,” Donnie answered, fidgeting with the red cloth on his arm.

“What changed? I remember you and Mom telling me the age of twenty was the human body’s prime? I don’t know how much it technically counts for mutant turtles yet, but eh, it’s enough I’m sure,” April asked.

Donnie looked down at his right lower arm. The colors of blue, red, orange, and black were wrapped around it. Basically and ironically, Donnie was wearing his heart as his sleeve. (It is ironic, due to my general personality and character not following the metaphorical phrase ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’.) He then moved to fidget with the black choker on his wrist between the orange and blue cloth. “You see these scars?”, he asked, gesturing to his whole right half of his body.

“Yeah?”, April responded, curious.

“They are from an explosion that made me blind in my right eye, deaf in my right ear, and gave me twisted scars on my lower leg because Kraang gunk splatted on my exposed flesh, and it had already begun to spread by the time I got back to the base with— Cassandra and April,” he concluded the sentence reluctantly.

“What does this have to do with the ‘early days’?”, April inquired, beginning to feel impatient with this Don-pelgänger³, who was trying to slowly explain the situation instead of just saying it bluntly. He had definitely changed.

“Well, the early days were before I got this scar. I was about twenty-three, April and I were on one of our intel collection missions again, and Cassandra had been assigned to join us because she was getting restless, and Casey Jr. and his sister were young; we didn’t want them to become orphaned again. I still had my ninpo then, just so you know. We were doing alright, until Kraang somehow detected our presence. A Kraang android came out and I fired at it, successfully, mind you, except that the Kraang appeared to know we were coming. They sent out an android that basically had what could be simply described as a land mine inside of it; mix that with the missiles I had just fired at it— well… things didn’t turn out that well. I had my battle shell on, but the explosion still reached past it. And Cassandra and April…” Donnie trailed off, he couldn’t finish the sentence, or he would become an absolute mess, since anytime truly he relived that memory— well, he never wants to relive that memory. But when he does, he always collapses into a shaking heap.

“Twenty-three? My little brother could have— has lost me, at the age of twenty-three!?!?!?”, April demanded, furious and fuming.

“Yes,” Donnie said, his voice audibly meeker than it had been before.

“And Cassandra!?”

“Indeed. It was not how any of us imagined she’d die,” Donnie smirked at his comment, despite the topic.

“Yeah, I bet. How did Future-Boy react to this? I’ve gathered that Casey’s his mom from what CJ has said, what you said, and the first and last names,” April queried.

“Ah, yes. How old was he then? Two or three I think. Yeah, you were also a mother-figure to him, so that didn’t exactly help…”, he mentioned hesitantly. “Oh, poor thing,” Dr. O’ Neil sadly murmured. “Yeah. This is not a me only thing when I say: that never should have been the life those kids led,” Donnie agreed, face solemn while putting his hands up by his head as if a gun were— bad analogy, you get the point. By now, the O’ Neils have finished their dinner; everyone has cleared their spots and the patient has been doing what he did best: explaining.

“Alright now, Don. How ‘bout we go to the couch and get ya all fixed up? April, get the first aid kit and my work bag,” instructed O’ Neil Senior. The two walked over to the couch as April rushed to grab what she had been ordered (after saluting of course). “Now, can you tell me if anything hurts anywhere at all?”, asked the seasoned doctor.

“Well, I have a few bruises and cuts that may or may not become infected, but nothing serious or unusual, I believe. I might have dislocated my humerus from my shoulder at some point?” Donatello responded, bending down to unlatch his prosthetic and check the damage. “Eugh, I’m going to have to tighten a few screws; nothing major, that’s good. Maybe a bit of oil to loosen up the joints, I’ve got that resource now. Oh, I’m going to abuse my accessibility to resources, and will have no regrets, what-so-ever,” Donnie said, his face betraying all of the gremlin inside of him.

“Wow! That’s a wicked cool prosthetic! You make it?”, April asked as she approached with the medical cases.

“Who else? Raphael? Leonardo? Of course I made it,” Donatello responded, holding it up in case she wanted to look at it closer. She reached for it once she had set the bags down, eyes glittering, but Donnie stopped her before she made contact with it. “I’ll warn you, it’s quite a bit heavy if you are the size that you are, and/or not used to the weight of it.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” April said eagerly, hurriedly, while reaching for the metal contraption, as if Donnie would change his mind at any second and yank it back. Scoff, he thought. As if I could be that careless. “Wow! This is so cool! Mind if I take a few pics to send to Dee?”, she asked, already getting her phone out to take pictures. “Um, my Dee, I mean.”

“But, of course. Not that he’ll be needing it, seeing as he may be able to tear it apart and put it back together— under my supervision, obviously,” Donnie answered, lifting his left pant leg so that the doctor could treat his wounds.

He bit his tongue as she cleaned and disinfected them with some water, hydrogen peroxide, and a cloth. It was really the cloth that did it for him, seeing as water and hydrogen peroxide had never bothered him in the past.

“Sweet!”, April said, obviously hyped at this whole situation. Donnie heard the classic sound of a smart phone taking pictures while he watched Carol examine his injuries a bit closer; putting her glasses on so that she would actually be able to see clearly. “You’re lucky it’s not as bad as the stain on your pant told me it was,” she commented while she grabbed bandages. “You’ve got some gashes, nothing I can’t handle. Anywhere else, dear?” She put some more disinfectant on cotton-like pad, this time, and put the pad on the gashes, what she would then wrap the bandages around.

“As I said before, I believe I dislocated my right shoulder during a fight within the past few weeks. I believe I managed to pop it back in, but better safe than sorry. It’s still a bit sore,” he added, rolling said shoulder to test it out against his better judgment. Carol tsked and got to work on examining it once she was done with his leg.

“Mind if I send these pics to Don…uuhhhhh, other Don?”, April asked, flipping through the pictures of the senior turtle’s prosthetic.

“Very well, only if you wish for an excruciating amount of questions that he will have for you, of which I will make sure you don’t answer. Not to mention the countless questions he desires desperately for how it works, which I will also make sure he does not receive unless I abide. I will only answer if he asks me in person, and only if I so desire,” Donatello said, leaning back with an especially bored expression on his face, finger-tips touching so that he made a very loose triangle. “So, yes, you may. But only if you are willing to take a great risk at your sanity, and your brother’s.”

April stared at the old soldier dumb-founded-ly. “So…yes? But at my own expense?”

“Precisely,” the soft-shell replied.

“Geez! You could have just said that! I guess some things never change…” April commented, scratching her head.

“Indeed.”

“Alright,” Carol began. “You were right, Donnie. You dislocated your shoulder, buuut you didn’t pop it back in, so we’ll do that now, okay hon?” Dr. O’ Neil started putting her tools down.

“Oh? Well alright then. Just give me a count down,” Donnie said, re-situating himself so that the doctor could easily proceed with relocating his shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing his upper-arm and around his collar. “You ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright. Three,” she counted, “two, one…” Donnie felt pain and pressure in his arm and through-out his shoulder area. He winced and sharply inhaled through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

He had been through much worse procedures than this without pain meds, or being put under, so ideally this should be nothing— and it wasn’t for the most part. Donnie— along with most of the adults in, at least, the Liberty Resistance— had built up a strong immunity to pain, so he didn’t feel it as much as an ordinary person would have. I also have been living off of strong pain meds though, so that may also be it. That doesn't mean he didn't feel it, though.

“Man! I don't think I saw you even flinch! Did you even flinch? No, you didn't even do that!”, April observed, obviously impressed.

Even though Donatello was much older than her, he couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at her tone. His brain argued that it was silly. This was a young, inexperienced, just-into-college girl, and even if Donnie had somehow figured out how to reverse age, and turned his own April into someone of this same age, it would still be different than this. Still, given the information that Michael gave him, it made complete sense that he felt this way.

Back to reality— a reality, at least, his shoulder was sore. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you build up a decent immunity to pain. Still hurts though,” Donnie added ,trying to be modest for once in his life. He was barley managing to half-lie through his teeth, and was immensely grateful that April didn't notice it-- or bother to ask.

“You should take that arm easy for a few days, at least, before you do anythin’ exciting, alright dear?”, Carol ordered prescribed, examining Donnie’s shoulder a bit more before moving on.

“I suppose I can do that. Sigh,” sighed Donnie reluctantly, knowing that if his family were here then there would be no questions. They weren’t and somehow that made Donnie want to listen to their hypothetical opinions more. Ugh. How could I become such a sentimental fool!

April interrupted his thoughts again, making another exclamation. “What? Donnie’s agreeing to rest, and not have someone FORCE HIM TO!?!?!?”

“Indeed, dear April,” Donnie said, closing one eye and putting a hand on top of his ear to muffle the sound more than his mono-ggle already did. “In my time, in the twenty-two years of the apocalypse, my family, and some close friends in the resistance— all the same— insisted that I rest whenever I had serious injuries. I eventually learned that arguing was just wasting time that they and I had to loose, so why do it?”, he explained simply.

“So that’s all it takes to get Donnie to rest, huh? Lots of pestering and saying that time’s being wasted?”, April wondered. “Well, I’m going to abuse this information on my Donnie at least,” she said in a chipper voice.

“I believe tha— ouch! What was that?”, Donatello asked, surprised.

“Oh, just tweesin’ out some small shards of metal in your leg. Don’t worry they’re not rusty, but did you have tetanus vaccines in your time? Or at all? Better to be safe than sorry,” Carol responded, showing him a small piece of metal the size of a finger-nail clipping covered in blood.

“Yeesh. Yes, and yes, but not within the past fifteen years at least,” Donnie answered as he examined the shard. “Never fear! I always keep A.T.A.S. on me since both Leo and I have metal prosthetics, and we could accidentally cut someone at any point. Cough— Casey Junior— cough,” he explained, fake coughing, though at the same time you could distinctly hear the words “cough”.

“Ummmmmmm,” April raised a finger.

“Hither, hand me mine coat. It should be in there…” Donnie said, snatching the piece of cloth from April’s hands as she held it out.

“Okay, one: didn’t anyone from the future tell you that you sound weird when you talk like that? I know that we’ve told our Don, but I don’t know if that’s the same, too,” April shot at him.

“Oh, yes. Countless times, before and after the Kraang invaded. Two?” Donnie noticed that April flinched when he said the name. “Don’t say their name?” April nodded. “Understood. I shall try. Anyways, two?” Donnie didn’t want to bother getting anymore information until he had met all of his timeline’s counterparts.

“Two, what in the world is A.T.A.S.? Why not atlas? It sounds better than atas,” April criticized.

“Ah. Well, it is for the reason of A.T.A.S. being an acronym for my Artificial Tetanus Antibiotic Spray,” Donnie explained, pulling out the spray can and demonstrating to each word as he said it before he shook the can and tossed it to Dr. O’ Neil. “Don’t worry, you, Leon, and a number of other scientists and medical professionals approved of the formula and successful tests I provided”, he reassured as she read the drug facts on the back. “Nothing exciting happened the times that we’ve used it, so either A: no one has been infected with the bacteria, or B: my formula is extremely effective.”

“Well, it seems alright. ‘Just enough to cover the wound in a silvery sheen’ is what it says? So, lightly”, Carol checked.

“Correct,” Donnie nodded. Dr. O’ Neil popped off the can’s lid and sprayed it on the cut. Then she wrapped it.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” the doctor said, looking over her handiwork, double checking the turtle for anything she might have missed.

“How ‘bout your shell, Dee? Is that alright?”, April tested.

“No harm in checking, I suppose,” Donnie agreed, his tone reluctant. “Though, I haven’t taken it off in weeks, and nothing’s happened, so I would prefer to wait until I go to sleep— or at least sit down for a longer rest.”

“Wai- wai- wai- wai- wait. You, Donatello Hamato, are not being forced to rest, pushed to rest, nor asked to rest, but just— you’re just…volunteering?????” April looked like she had been lied to beyond belief.

Donnie just chuckled to himself and clicked his leg back on; he had already put on his coat once Carol had said she was definitely finished with him. “Some things never change, April, but some things do,” he said, catching her off-guard again when he threw “wise-old-man-advice” at her. She stared, shocked yet again by how much her best friend, her brother, had changed over the time and events that she had never experienced.

“Also, I’m pretty sure you’ve been shocked by me accepting help the whole evening, Apes.” Donnie stood and stretched. “Thank you for your hospitality, my friends,” he said, “but I really should find my nephew and see how he’s been holding up.” Donnie reached for his additional weapons, and grabbed the A.T.A.S. can with one of his robotic arms and stowed it in his coat as he did so. “I didn’t get how he’s been faring, by the way. How is he doing? I’m more worried about how he’ll adjust to us as teenagers more than anything. The kid is adaptable and can absolutely hold his own.” A tone of concern, and then fondness and pride, had worked their way into Donnie’s voice; he was the only one who didn’t notice.

“Oh, yeah, he’s definitely still adjusting. It has just been a little less than a month since we met him after all. And don’t worry. Out of all of us, he was probably injured least. Well, he was at least no less injured than I was, and he was a bit messed up when I found him— or rather he found me. I just knocked him out,” April explained.

“Of course he did; and of course you did,” he said, sighing (fondly, though he wouldn’t admit it) and scruffling April’s hair.

“Hey!”, she protested to no avail.

“I need to leave now,” Donnie said. “I believe I have all my arms.” April snickered, the sentence sounding funny to her, even though she knew what he meant. Donnie just stared at the ground. He could almost hear his twin. ‘Unlike me’, he would pout; Donnie would groan and face-palm, then say, ‘Seriously, ‘Nardo? This is extremely important; We don’t have time for puns!’, and Donnie would throw his hands up in exasperation. Donnie smiled and shook his head as he recalled this happening on multiple occasions.

“Knock-knock? Anyone in there?”, April poked, waving her hand in front of his face as much as she could.

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m here. Apologies,” Donnie said, snapping out of his quote-on-quote “trance”.

“No worries. See ya later, then?”, checked April. He could hear the hope in her voice; he needed it.

“Why, of course, my dear friend. May I have your phone for a moment? I don’t want to bother hacking into it right now”, Donnie asked as he opened the door. Fresh New York air blasted his face and he breathed deeply. I didn’t know I missed this so much…

“Uuuuuhhhhh, sure,” April handed her phone to him.

Donnie went to contacts and added his phone number and email. “There,” he said, handing the phone back. “I labeled myself as ‘Donatello Senior’, should you not misunderstand who is trying to contact you.”

“Oh, thanks! And, seriously. Stop talking like that.” She made a disgusted face at his choice of phrasing.

“Sigh. I suppose not everyone might be able to have such a well rounded vocabulary and selection of sentence phrasing as I,” he sagged dramatically. April rolled her eyes and he smiled. Donnie knelt down and gave April a hug. It didn’t compare to Raph’s, but it definitely just passed as ‘sufficiency’. “Bye,.. April,” Donnie said, just outside the thresh-hold.

“Bye, Don. Thanks for choosing to come to my neck of the woods first! See ya later!!!”, April waved enthusiastically as Donnie walked down the front steps and into the alley-way.

Donnie waved back for a moment, then continued on his walk until he reached a man-hole cover. The mutant lifted it, peeking inside to make sure it was safe. “Well,” he said to himself as he pulled up the holo-screen on his gauntlet again, “time to go…home.” He jumped into the grimy sewer, not seen by any other human eye that night.

__________________

Chapter 1!!! Yippeeee!!!!! I've had the first five chapters written out for months, so I'm happy that I'm getting the first one out!

Also, @queenofthewigglers, you seemed interested, so here you go :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

the hug is only crushing due to their size difference

tortilla pronunciation (for those who do not know) -- tore-tea-a (idk how to do pronunciation dictionary stuff shdjsshsg)

the name "Donnie" meets the word "doppelgänger"

[wishmaker-astra]

Name: Astra Tsiolkovsky

Pronouns

• Default Preference: she/her

• Friends Can Use: it/its

• Though honestly as long as you're not a dick about it whatever works

Species: "Jirachi" (?)

Occupation: Astrophysics Doctoral Student

Other: Mute, psychic, former human

[Credit: Amber Aria: https://www.sunset-aria.com/]

Hey internet, I'm Astra Tsiolkovsky. I'm a doctoral student studying astrophysics in Unova. Ask me about science, engineering, and Space Stuff™ if you want rambles.

See my full about page

My Website

I use the "cw: topic" format for tagging that kind of thing.

I am a jirachi, and accept the labels of mythical and legendary, but I do not accept the label of deity/goddess/divine/etc.

I would ask you do not use the phrase "I wish" with when talking with me unless I give you permission as a courtesy. Text may not set off anything or do anything, but it has associations with physical impacts IRL.

That said, I understand if you do not believe I am a jirachi, just be respectful, alright?

SINCE THIS POS SITE HAS IMPLEMENTED AN ASK LIMIT, HERE'S THE POST IM USING AS THE ASK BOX IF YOU HIT YOUR 10 PER HOUR LIMIT: [X]

//Mail: [off]•Mystery Gift: [off]•Magic Anon: [off]•Union Circle: [off]

//[OOC Notes Below Cut]

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT

Check with me OOCly before sending anything ICly transphobic to her. After a couple instances of this, and one OOC Totally Normal ask, you guys have lost privilege of me accepting and rejecting on the fly with the hope you'd know when to stop.

If you fuck this up more, I'm going to mandate all asks about IC transphobic stuff get approval OFF ANON first and will start blocking anons over not asking OOCly. That said, I know some of these are hard to recognize for those of you who've never had to think about it in depth. Just think twice on if need to ask please?

EDIT 10/10/24: Congratulations on first OOC block about this. I am less likely to start off with warnings from now on.

Similar applies to her jirachi status. I'm a bit more lenient and open to this one, but, like, please use your brains.

EDIT 1/24: Mail and mystery gift has been turned off due to repeated attempts to send pokemon and money to Astra while ignoring that anything sent to her should be via normal parcel post. If you have my discord, or history of tumblr DM chat, I might be open to in advance arrangements.

Will Not Interact:

Magic Anon

Fae deals/name stealing

Meta Horror

4th Wall Schenanigans

Unambiguously confirmed bloodline curses

Very dark topics

• This includes post-apocalyptic stuff to be clear

Mental Alteration/Mind Control related subjects

• I WILL just ignore things, have Astra behave utterly OOC, blanket refuse to interact with characters, and/or just suddenly drop interaction as if never happened if required for this

Other Notes:

I try to treat her experiencing rotomblr as *just a website* as much as possible. Granted, one with weird multiversal connection that she will assume is due to ultrahole shenanigans she doesn't understand yet

Lose combination of games and anime setting, leaning more towards the games

Pelipper mail will be interpreted as regular parcel mail being sent to her via student services.

Please keep mystery gift to minor items at most. She's a grad student as part of her character, part of that is putting up with tight money situation.

Astra's got the full abilities of a jirachi potentially, but is completely unable to use them yet. Think of it as getting a new limb suddenly.

Assumes sentient pokemon are rare, and mostly limited to:

• Ones with decent canon support (rotom inhabiting devices with a CPU, mewtwo, one off instances such as Meowth, latias, etc)

• Certain humanoid and/or psychic types raised in human society in a way that  "bootstraps" them during critical development periods (e.g. Gardevoir line treated as effectively human from birth)

Feel free to treat her as a kid screwing around on the net with a character if you want or similar if it makes sense for your character's setup or personality

She's an adult lesbian, please block the tags "suggestive", "cw: boob joke", "cw: dick joke", "cw: sex joke", and "cw: sex mention" if you are not comfortable with those topics. Please let me know if you need something tagged.

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Service Wolf

After graduating Nevermore Academy Wednesday attends the prestigious Alighieri Institute to hone her psychic abilities as she continues her detective work. Enid joins her as her service werewolf; there to alert her of visions and try to keep her out of danger as much as possible. All characters 18 years or older. Wenclair.

—————————————————————

Chapter 7

"To greater woe now let us downward steer."

"Okay so like what if we just get you a new phone?" Enid suggested as she paced.

"Enid." Wednesday said as she sat on their bed.

"If there's no vision connected to that new phone then we know it wouldn't be related to you specifically." She bargained.

"Enid." Wednesday repeated.

"But if it is then-" She shook her head at the thought. "Then I'll just have to stay at your side at all times."

"Enid." Wednesday said tiredly as she held out her hand. Enid hesitated as she gripped Wednesday's phone tightly. "We won't know what fate lies in store until I'm allowed to have the vision in the first place."

"But Wednes!" Enid said, clutching her phone to her chest as if by doing so she could shield Wednesday from its harm.

"Enid, my phone. Please." Wednesday asked, keeping her hand out.

"Lay back on the bed completely." Enid said, pointing to it. "And-"

"-Recovery position, yes." Wednesday sighed as she did so. Enid repressed a huff and nodded. Wednesday waited patiently for Enid to check her over. Unable to find any more reason to delay the inevitable, Enid gently placed the phone in her hand. Wednesday's head jerked back and she began to tremble slightly. Enid whined and crawled onto the bed to lie next to her.

Wednesday opened her eyes to find herself laying on a frigid metal slab. Her head was pounding with an unimaginable headache. She grimaced and shielded her eyes from the bright overhead light as she fought to sit up. Her mind felt as sluggish and numb as her body currently was. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain and confusion she was experiencing. This wasn't typically how her visions went.

"E-Ennnid?" Her words slurred as she tried to call out. She grit her teeth as her head continued to throb. She let her other senses survey her surroundings as she dreaded having to force her eyes open to face the painful blinding light surrounding her. The smell of disinfectant and slowed decay filled the cold thick air around her. The abnormally loud ticking of a clock was the only sound that cut through the harsh buzzing of fluorescent lights. She had a pretty good idea of where she was but needed to look around to confirm her suspicions.

Wednesday grit her teeth as she slowly forced her eyes open. She was unsurprised at where she found herself; a morgue.

"Ennnd?" She slurred again as she swung her legs over the edge of the table. Her mouth felt dry. She tried to swallow but she had no saliva left. She gripped the edge of the table as she prepared to lower herself to the ground. Just as she started to lift herself she felt a long sharp pain in her neck. Hissing quietly she instinctively reached to touch the spot.

Her brain felt too disconnected from reality to process the dread that filled her. Her fingertips lightly and blindly felt along the length of the cut that had been made on her neck. She couldn't decide what was more unnerving, the fact that her blood felt cold or that she could hear footsteps returning. She glanced around quickly for a means of defending herself. The sight of seven other bodies temporarily distracted her.

The footsteps were closer now. Wednesday blindly raked her hand over a metal table beside her and fumbled with a scalpel. She gripped it tightly as she pushed herself off the metal slab. She fell to the floor hard and cursed. There was a jangle of keys just outside the door to the room. Wednesday tried to drag herself under the table in an attempt to find a more defensible position. She tried to remain as quiet as possible but her breathing was too labored.

Something lit up on the floor beside her. Her phone. The screen was shattered. Without thinking she reached for it just as the door swung open.

Wednesday nearly bolted upright as she came to but a strong pair of arms prevented her. She started thrashing about wildly as she attempted to escape her would-be attacker. She remembered the scalpel in her hand and tried stabbing at the arms now tightening around her, however it seemed to have vanished. A sharp pain in her neck made her nearly lose it completely. She was going to die. This was how she was going to die. But, she wasn't going to make it easy.

"Ow! Wednesday what the fuck!?" Enid yelped as the raven bit down as hard as she could on her arm. Wednesday barely had time to process her voice before she heard a loud snarl and felt an immense weight press down on her. Fur had erupted on the arm in her mouth and she hurried to spit it out. As soon as she had let go her arms were forcibly crisscrossed and held at her sides. A large set of powerful legs had also intertwined with hers to prevent her from kicking out.

She struggled less and less as she slowly began to come back to the present. Wednesday finally stilled but Enid refused to relinquish her.

"En-Enid?" Wednesday gasped as her heart continued to race. Enid growled softly and licked her neck. Wednesday flinched and tried to pull away. Enid stopped at once and whined. "I'm hurt! Don't touch it!" She said with a note of unreasonable panic. Enid whined louder then huffed in her ear.

"I'm hurt. I'm-" She said then trailed off. Enid was breathing slowly and steadily next to her ear. Wednesday closed her eyes and attempted to imitate. Enid inhaled and felt the small body follow along. She exhaled and felt Wednesday start to calm. She continued until she could smell Wednesday's adrenaline levels decrease significantly enough. She woofed quietly and finally released her.

"I'm sorry." Wednesday whispered as she kept her eyes shut. A hand shakily went to her neck. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt nothing. Enid nosed her gently. Wednesday let out a small stream of self-directed curses. Enid whined again and Wednesday took a deep breath. "At present I am not hurt but I have obviously hurt you. Please, allow me to remedy this." She felt Enid's body shift partially behind her.

"Vision?" She awkwardly growled as her muzzle was between human and wolf. Apparently Enid wasn't comfortable unshifting completely yet.

"It differed quite significantly from my usual, hence my panicked state." Wednesday said, hugging Enid's arms and kissing the bite.

"How?" Her growl was low and gravelly.

"I saw the future. A future." Wednesday swallowed. Enid snarled softly. "I was in my body experiencing it. I was in a morgue. It was difficult to focus. I had evidently become injured." She shook her head. "However, I did notice seven other bodies. Considering the state of things I have reason to believe our killer is possibly a mortician or at the very least has access to a morgue."

"Hurt?" Enid snarled. Wednesday clenched her jaw. She didn't want to worry her. "Hurt?" Enid said louder.

"My neck." Wednesday said quietly as she motioned to it. "A long cut." She traced where it had been with a finger. Enid sniffed her over and huffed. "I don't know why or how or by whom." She said, disquiet seeping in. Enid could sense it too. Too many thoughts were racing through her mind. She had so many questions and things she wanted to say but knew that wasn't what Wednesday needed right now. She got up and pawed at Wednesday's side. Wednesday instinctively rolled onto her back to allow the large wolf to lay across her chest. Her heart was still racing but the pressure was calming.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62565664/chapters/162667567

[setcolder]

Something about akechi and saiki... Technically, he's his first interpersonal relationship, no? Veeery first one that he would consider close friend. And he betrayed him. But he said himself, he doesn't blame akechi. Its so? Its sooooo???? Why is he so understanding and empathetic????? Why he despite all rights to be angry is still, like, rational in some way. What. Hes so kind. Its not that i think akechi is WRONG well he is but hes a kid. But saiki is also a kid. The thing about akechi set the stone for saiki and close his door to more interpersonal relationship in the future. Like. Saiki. I'm patting your head throughout this essay.

Also can anyone confirm about their childhood lore im a bit confused. So the original version of the sequence is saiki showing akechi his power. Akechi told the bullies hes a psychic, and he break lose? But since saiki changed the past, this scene is replaced with akechi were unconscious and he break lose. Is that right?

[void-of-unparalleled-chaos]

Okay so time for me to dump my thoughts on the Underworld Saga because I am going insane and tbh I'm not sure how coherent this will be because my brain is mostly keyboard smashing.

The Shades: "When does a man become a monster? 558 men who died under your command. CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! Why would you let the cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy?"

Okay so the harmonies of the Shades are amazing! But also this whole bit is just so... haunting. The call back to Just a Man and Ruthlessness does something to me. Could you imagine being screamed at by the ghosts of everyone you've failed? Also Jay confirmed that the shades in this song are just repeating their final thoughts in life. They drowned begging for their Captain to help them and died wondering why he failed them. This probably fucked Odysseus UP.

Odysseus: "I keep thinking of the infant from that night. I keep thinking of the infant from that night."

I swear I can hear the PTSD in his voice holy shit. Also Astyanax's music box motif being played in church bells in the back. I never would have noticed it if not for Jay's behind the scenes videos but knowing it's there makes this bit so much better.

Odysseus: "Polities..."

I was not nearly as wrecked at this bit until I saw this post mentioning that Odysseus quiet little "Polities..." is a mirror of Polities strangled "Captain..." when he died and now I will never be the same.

Odysseus' Mom

I am not exaggerating when I say I cried during the watch party. Everything about this is heartbreaking. His mom was thinking about him in her final moments. "Odyssues when you come home I'll be waiting" except she wont be. The shocked defeat in Odysseus' voice with "I took too long...". He's right there in front of her, but her shade just doesn't register him. They are so close physically yet still separated by death. Also the fact that Jay's mom voices her that is so sweet omg.

The change from "Here in the Underworld the past seems close behind" to "But in the Underworld your past is always close behind."

STTAGKDUKFUTAATUFOUCOUXGJXG

THE STRINGS!!!!! AND THE PIANO!!!!

Tiresias' voice is so haunting omg

Mason absolutely NAILED prophet who is constantly being shown everything all the time at one I love it sm.

The lyrics in this song are just.... so good. And the foreshadowing is top notch

Jay's voice acting for Odysseus' is also great in this.

The distress and frustration in "We've suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells. Now you tell us ur efforts are for NOTHING?!" and the absolute anger in "WHO!?!?!" (Its you, Ody. See your about to go through a complete change in morals about 5 minutes from now and become a completely different person).

THE DESCENDING ORGAN FOR THE SECOND CHORUS MY JAW DROPPED

Jorge don't think I didn't notice the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hellfire, vibes at the end I see you.

This is my favorite song released in Epic so far and I am not normal about it at all.

The GUITAR! THE ELECTRIC GUITAR!

For those unfamiliar and being dragged along this nonsense post, Odysseues character is associated with the guitar. The acoustic guitar is when he is softer, kinder, and more "human" while the electric guitar represents him at his most brutal, ruthless, and "monsterous". This song is his turning point to which he is done being merciful. He will do ANYHTING to get home.

"Oh Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves..."

Really taking Poseidon's lesson to heart there.

Odysseus: "AND IF I GOTTA DROP ANOTHER INFANT FROM A WALL IN AN INSTANT SO WE ALL DON'T DIE? THEN I'LL BECOME THE MONSTER! I WILL DEAL THE BLOW!... SO WHAT IF I'M THE MONSTER?"

Ayrsgstusigxjgsutaut holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Play this back to back with Just A Man for some psychic damage. What an end for Act 1!

[existslikepristin]

Hey so I have some stuff coming up this weekend again, so the part after this one will likely be maybe Tuesday of next week? I'm not going to commit to a schedule because duh, but Tuesday seems good. For that reason, the poll is going to run for a week, but I will start writing based on the results as of Monday evening. Tumblr only has 1 day and 1 week poll time limits *eyeroll*

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, anal

(Story Index)

Pull out all the stops

“Yup,” you say without hesitation, “That’ll be what we go with.” Your fingers get around the flared base of the plug before you even realize you’re reaching for it.

“Oh please be careful, master! I’m a virg—” Joy snorts and chuckles, “Sorry, can’t say that with a straight face.”

This plug is harder to pull than one in the hospital. It’s like Joy is squeezing around it, doing her best not to let go. But eventually you manage the slightest movement. Behind the plug’s base, you see what seems to be an entirely normal asshole (or at least a normal one with a large size sex toy lodged in it). Your excitement grows as it widens, spreading at the insistence of the tool in your hand.

Further…

Further…!

Further!

And then suddenly, all resistance gives way, and the plug comes out with a comical pop. You can now confirm that she does have a very normal, human-looking asshole (or at least a normal one that’s a little gaped, a little lubricated, and spotlessly clean). Joy twitches and moans, at which you raise an eyebrow.

“You sure that was just a psychic thing?” you ask.

Joy groans, reaching back and rubbing a fingertip around her rim. It’s at that moment that you again notice her lack of vagina underneath. Still kinda weird.

“I said I didn’t get any sexual pleasure,” Joy says with a somewhat dreamy quality to her voice compared to before, “from touching where a human’s pussy would be. My ass, on the other hand, is quite functional from a physical sensation perspective, so I’d appreciate you putting something inside.”

This all seems very logical to you. No need for questions. You line yourself up and push.

Your entry into Joy’s ass is easy like Sunday morning. There’s some pressure against you, but only just enough for you to notice. The rest is just a pleasant grip. One fluid motion is all it takes for you to be pressing your hips into Joy’s cashmere-soft buttcheeks. They’re propped upward as her back is arched down. It feels like she’s in control of all of her muscles, because a fine squeeze seems to ripple up and down your whole length. You and Joy groan in unison.

“Oh fuck, master, that’s so good!” Joy drops her elbows onto the table and places her head in her hands. 

"Do you want to like, call me by my name?"

"I literally cannot."

You shrug and get back to what you voted for. The out stroke is just as eye-flutteringly luxurious as the in. Joy’s not trying to keep you inside, but she’s letting you out with a firm but gentle hold. Her back lifts and holds until you stop moving, and, as soon as you start forward again, dips again into the porn star arch.

On and on this continues for a word count more appropriate for a smutty novella than a brief continuation of a serialized fanfiction. Your stamina is rather shocking, actually, and you would wonder about the number of times the planet rotated on its axis if you weren’t more concerned with the primordial magic of Joy’s asshole consuming your perception of time, place, and sensation. 

Nevertheless, your orgasm creeps up on you. Something must signal that to Joy, because she pauses her sensual vocalizations long enough to look back over her shoulder and give you some seriously tempting-ass bedroom eyes, which seem to get across the silent “pick a place to cum” sentence.

Options:

You’re already in the best place. Cum in her ass.

But like, you want to see your cum ON her ass (and a little on her back).

Cum on the blank space normally occupied by pussy… weird.

Nay, most fitting of a mystical slave would be a facial!

Or in her mouth! Swallowing shows devotion or whatever, probably.