#Lying about halo lore

[ask-cloverfield]

i’m going back to lying about Halo lore

Avery Johnson during sex thought that touching a boob “may have been a tactical error”

[lostinthewoodsomewhere]

Had some thoughts on how I could fit some cannon things into the club Au, this time featuring Alan in one of the loops before the game! It's a rough draft of something that I'm not sure what I'll do with, but I thought I'd share!

There was a woman lying on the sofa, deep in sleep, or maybe just unconscious, he couldn’t tell. She looked a bit of a mess, black eyeliner smudged across her cheek, lipstick faded away leaving only a dark ring around her lips, and an absolute mass of red hair that had probably been neatly styled curls at one point, but now lay around her head in a tangled mess like a halo of blood…

Halo of blood? Really? I need to get out of the writer’s room more often…

Her suit jacket had been removed and placed across her like a makeshift blanket, and all in all she looked like someone who had passed out after a night on the town, but there was still something that didn’t feel quite right.

���Alan!! What a lovely surprise, I wasn’t expecting you” Tom called out as he walked into the living room, leaning on the door frame with a drink in his hand as if this was all business as usual.

He looked tired, in a way Alan had never seen him look before, his make up similarly smudged around his eyes. He was also wearing a new suit, which looked suspiciously like the one the passed out woman was wearing, and when he looked back he found that, yep, they were identical.

Tom followed his eyeline and chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Don’t look so worried about her, she’s just exhausted, poor thing. It’s been one hell of a night, let me tell you, and the air here doesn’t always agree with her, but she’ll be fine after some rest” he explained, walking over to give the woman a little pat on the head before offering him a drink.

Alan took the drink, but wasn’t ready to let this go that easily.

“What the hell is going on here Tom? You’ve never even mentioned anyone else before, who even is she?” he asked, and Tom smirked.

“My my, you’re not jealous that I’m hanging out with other people, are you? She’s just a friend, I promise” he answered with a wink.

“You know that’s not what I meant” he replied through gritted teeth, “I just want to know what’s going on. We’re supposed to be collaborating, right? Helping each other out? I need to be kept in the loop!”

“You are” Tom said, throwing his arm around him, “of course I’m keeping you in the loop, but I have my own life too you know? She’s just a friend, and tonight was just business, nothing to concern yourself over”.

Alan took a breath, untangling himself from Tom’s hold to sit down in the armchair.

“ I can count on one hand the amount of people I’ve met here” he began, “so why have you never mentioned her? Why have you never told me there’s someone else here?”

Tom sighed, perching himself on the arm rest of the sofa.

“Because she’s not here, not in the way you’re thinking anyway. See, this place, this hotel, it has many doors, many rooms, and many entrances and exits too. Yes, we’re both in the room now, but we leave through different exits, so to speak. I can only leave one way, she can only leave the other, but there are places where our paths overlap. Come to think of it, I’m not quite sure how you made it to this room, I must have left the door open… we were both pretty tired when we got back…” he trailed off, draining his drink with a shrug.

“So don’t get any ideas” he added, “because I can already tell you there’s no following her out the other side”.

@the3rddenialist (my partner in club lore crime 🫡)

[thienan1s]

My rambling about the next arc :

The Forbidden Fruit that gave human free will and the ability to know right from wrong also left human tainted with sin and cursed with pain. Eva who was curious wanted to seek knowledge had to suffer pain for what she sought.

I feel it will goes perfectly with Shadow Milk. Not only stop at Fanfic but also in Lore in the official game storyline if the game maker wants to do so ( Dear Cthulhu, please don't let him be like Burning Spice ).

When I think about it, thit scene make me think of Eve before eating the forbidden fruit, a halo surrounded him, white light covered him, reminds me of the garden of eden, innocence, beginnings. I imagine Shadow Milk before being corrupted was like Eva before, curious, innocent, kind but stupid ( note here that when i say he is stupid, i don't mean he is actually stupid, i mean he didn't have the knowledge(s) that he has now and that makes him may look stupid to himself now ) and don't have free will.

Like Eva was originally a little goody two shoes, he did what he was told and expected without caring about his own desires (maybe because he didn't have any at first when he was created, and later he was so busy that he didn't have time to think about it + afraid of disappointing others).

He didn't choose to be a "Hero", he didn't choose to be friend and ally with other "Virtues", He did not choose to become "Virtues of knowledge". But he obeyed and continued to obey even after a long time even though it was so tiring and stressed full. I thought he was like Pure Vanilla before, smiling but not happy, constantly giving and trying his best for others but not thinking about himself, always under pressure and overworked to complete endless tasks, always acting.

And i imagine he's just like Pure Vanilla lying to everyone including his 'friends' (i have headcanon that Shadow Milk never really considered other 'comrades' as friends even before corruption or now) and most especially himself, of course it's not just trivial lies like political lies to make things go Shadow Milk's way, no, it's a lie about him being fine, he's happy.

I have a lot of thoughts but I'm lazy to write them down so I'll stop here.

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Klutz (+ Bonus Story)

Long before they were the towering titans of Spartan lore, before the augmentation, the armor, and the endless battles, they were kids. Kids with the weight of the world, or at least the fate of humanity, unknowingly resting on their tiny, yet unnaturally strong shoulders. In this prelude to their legendary status, Fred and Kelly, both eight and brimming with the sort of energy that could either power a small city or lead to its accidental destruction, found themselves embroiled in a spat so intense, it could only be described as epic—for an eight-year-old, at least.

The bone of contention? A gadget. Not just any gadget, mind you, but the sort that had buttons, lights, and made beep-boop sounds. It was the sort of tech that in the hands of skilled Spartan children could simulate battles or, in the wrong hands (namely any of their own on a bad day), end up as a very expensive paperweight.

Fred, with the sort of conviction only seen in children arguing over toys, stated, "You always do this, Kelly. I was clearly here first. Like, dawn-first. You were probably still drooling on your pillow."

Kelly, hands akimbo and eyes ablaze with the fire of a thousand suns—or perhaps just the fiery temper of an eight-year-old denied her toy—shot back, "In your dreams, Fred. You wish you were as dedicated to waking up early as I am. That gadget was mine for the taking. Finders keepers, losers weepers."

John, the youngest and usually the quietest of the trio, wandered in, curious about the commotion, only to find himself in the midst of what could very well have been the opening salvo of World War III, if it were to be fought by particularly articulate eight-year-olds over a training gadget.

The argument escalated, words flying faster than a Spartan in full sprint, until Fred, in a moment of passion (or perhaps just to prove a point), reached out to snatch the device. His fingers barely grazed it before it took a leap of faith, liberated from the confines of petty human squabbles, only to meet its untimely demise against the unyielding ground. The gadget, in a final act of defiance, scattered into a million pieces, each beep and boop falling silent.

Silence reigned, both children staring at the debris field that was once a cutting-edge piece of UNSC technology.

"Fred! You klutz!" Kelly exclaimed, half in horror, half in a begrudging respect for the chaos Fred had managed to unleash.Before the blame game could spiral further, the towering figure of Mendez loomed into the doorway, his shadow casting a pall over the room that could chill the bones of even the most seasoned soldier.

John, caught in the middle and still processing the rapid turn of events, found Mendez's steely gaze upon him. "Well, John? What happened here?" Mendez's voice was calm, the calm before the storm.

John, with the innocence of youth and the uncertainty of being put on the spot, stammered, "Uh, I think Kelly was... uh, doing something, and then... bam?"

Kelly's jaw dropped. "What? No! He's making it up! I didn't do it this time!" she protested, her voice hitting octaves only dogs could appreciate.In a desperate bid to avoid the wrath of Mendez (which could range from extra laps to a stern talking-to that could make a grown man cry), both Fred and Kelly, in a moment of panicked solidarity, pointed their fingers at John.

"It was definitely John," Fred chimed in, throwing his friend under the proverbial bus with a sheepish look that screamed 'Sorry, buddy.'

Mendez's eyebrows arched, a silent verdict passed. John, the sacrificial lamb, followed Mendez out, his small form a mixture of confusion and the dawning realization of betrayal.

Left alone, Fred and Kelly glanced at each other, the remnants of their argument lying forgotten among the pieces of the now-defunct gadget.

"Guess we kinda messed up, huh?" Fred muttered, scratching the back of his head in a universal sign of 'oops.'

"Yeah," Kelly sighed, her earlier fire replaced with a flicker of guilt. "Sorry for calling you a klutz."

"And sorry for, you know, actually being a klutz," Fred replied, a grin creeping onto his face.

As they started picking up the pieces, literally, the incident morphed from a potential friendship-ending disaster to just another tale in the saga of their Spartan training. The lesson? In the grand scheme of things, gadgets come and go, but friends—especially those who can forgive your penchant for accidentally destroying said gadgets—are forever.

---

John trudged behind Mendez, his feet feeling like they were made of lead, into what felt less like an office and more like the coliseum—only here, the lions were replaced with officers bearing the full might of UNSC disappointment. The air was heavy, charged with a sort of electric anticipation, as if the very walls were bracing for the verbal barrage to come.

Mendez, with the practiced ease of someone who had given more lectures than there were stars in the sky, didn’t bother with the usual pleasantries. He went straight for the jugular. “John,” he began, the name not so much spoken as it was launched like a missile, “we’ve gathered here not to talk about what was broken—though, by the stars, it was expensive—but about the breaking itself. The sheer, unadulterated recklessness.”

John’s eyes, fixed on his scuffed boots, couldn’t have looked guiltier if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except this jar was worth more credits than he could count, and the cookies were top-secret UNSC tech.

An officer, whose name tag read something unimportant because all John could think was ‘this is it, I’m done for,’ piped up. “Let’s cut to the chase. We're not running a charity here, son. That equipment you 'supposedly' destroyed? It's worth more than your weight in platinum.”

John’s mouth opened, a feeble attempt at defense forming, but what came out was barely audible. “But I—”“But nothing,” Mendez cut in, his voice a crescendo of frustration. “This isn’t about who did what anymore. It’s about you being here, right now, and the fact that a piece of invaluable equipment was turned into a very expensive doorstop on your watch.”

The officers took turns then, as if this were some twisted tag team match, each one delivering their own brand of scathing critique. Words like “disappointment,” “liability,” and “failure” were thrown around with such casual precision, John felt each one like a physical blow.

The tears came then, unbidden, streaking down his face in silent testament to the crushing weight of their words. This wasn’t how heroes were made; this was how dreams were crushed, beneath the heel of authority and the harsh light of reality.

Mendez, perhaps sensing he had a broken spirit rather than a Spartan on his hands, softened slightly. “Look, John. This isn’t the end of the line. But it’s a damn serious bump. Spartans are built on trust, on the understanding that every gear in the machine works flawlessly. Today, you were a cog that jammed. Don’t let there be a next time.”

With a dismissive wave, Mendez signaled the end of the tribunal, and the officers filed out, leaving John in the echoing silence of the office, the aftermath of a storm. The door closed with a soft click, a definitive full stop on the day’s events.

John made his way back to his quarters, each step heavy with the sort of weariness that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with the soul-crushing realization that sometimes, your best isn’t good enough. The corridor stretched before him, a path back to a place that felt less like home and more like a cell.Inside his room, the reality of his situation settled in with oppressive finality.

To him, there was no grand lesson learned, no silver lining—just the bitter taste of failure and the understanding that in the grand scheme of things, he was expendable. A tool that, when broken, could easily be replaced.

As he lay in his bunk, staring up at the cold, unfeeling ceiling, John realized that the path to becoming a Spartan was littered with more than just physical trials. It was a journey that demanded everything, and sometimes, that meant facing the fact that not all were destined to reach the end.

The lights dimmed, mirroring the dimming of his spirit, as John closed his eyes, not to dream of victories and glory, but to escape the harsh reality that today, he had been found wanting. In the silence of his quarters, a young boy’s aspirations seemed to fade into the darkness, a sad, stark reminder that... well, not all stories have happy endings.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @authortobenamedlater, @ageless-aislynn.

[jupitermelichios]

while everyone is sad and in need of non-terrible sterek content, here's a minor headcanon I'm probably never going to get around to using in anything:

derek is a massive halo nerd, but hates all video games basically universally. he picked up one of the novels because he knows stiles likes the games, and he wanted to be able to contribute during stiles's periodic gamer info-dumps, but then got weirdly invested in the lore and now knows way more about the universe than any reasonable person should

stiles thinks this is adorable, obviously, but also hilarious, and spends a lot of times scheming ways to trick their friends into accidentally saying something that will activate derek's halo-heresy senses and trigger an angry rant. his crowning achievement was getting scott to read the drill 'masterchief's suit jacks him off' tweet out loud verbatim in derek's presence. neither of them have forgiven him for it, and he does not care because it was the funniest shit he's ever seen.

he's also started leaving 40k novels lying around derek's apartment. to date he has not taken the bait, but they both know it's only a matter of time before he caves.

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: Prayer and Ink Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Rating: T Status: One-Shot Characters: Allys Mahariel, Zevran Ships: Mahariel/Zevran Additional Notes: Dalish Lore, Character Study, Quiet Moments Word Count: 1.4k Summary: A conversation about tattoos and vallaslin leads Zevran to reconsider what it means to have faith in something- and in someone.

read below or here on ao3

“Do they mean anything?”

The question catches Zevran by surprise. It’s been a long, tedious day of marching across the Imperial Highway, and the relative privacy and cool shade of the tent coupled with the rhythmic sensation of Allys’s fingers tracing against his skin has nearly lulled him to sleep. He slowly opens his eyes and turns his head, although Allys remains just out of view as she continues to lightly draw her fingertips over the designs that curl across his back.

“The tattoos?” he asks, and Allys hums thoughtfully.

“Is that what you call them?” Her fingers continue their journey, following the curves and lines of dark ink that wind between his shoulder blades, along his spine, down his hips.

Zevran gives her a half-shrug, gently so as not to disturb her inspection. “They are pretty. Must they have a meaning beyond that?” A grin creeps across his face. “And of course, they invite the attention of lovely Wardens.”

Allys laughs and ends her study of Zevran’s tattoos to reposition herself so that she is once again lying next to him, her bright brown eyes level with his. Her hair has been released from its typical tight bun and now falls past her shoulders, framing her face in a halo of dark curls. Even after a day of trudging through the Fereldan dirt and mud, her smile is warm as the sun.

She laughs at his compliments, but Zevran isn’t joking in the slightest when he calls her lovely.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought they were a different type of vallaslin,” she says, resting her chin in her hand as her eyes roam over the tattooed path from Zevran’s brow down to his jawline. “I thought they might be meant for some god I didn’t recognize.”

“I suppose they still could be-is there a god for devilishly handsome sinners?”

Allys rolls her eyes. “I’m serious! Getting my vallaslin hurt like mad-but the pain is a sign of our devotion to the gods. That was the point, and the purpose made it easier. So it didn't make sense to me that someone would go through that without a reason."

“What can I say? We Antivans are willing to suffer for beauty.” Zevran flashes another smile, but it fades slightly as studies the vallaslin- the blood writing, they call it- across Allys’s face. He knows the lore behind the markings; his time with the Dalish provided him the chance to learn, and even to hear some of the legends of the gods. But his time with the clan was short and his education quick and basic, so there is much he still does not know. “What of yours, then? What purpose do they hold for you?”

With a gentle touch, Allys takes Zevran’s hand in hers and brings it to her face, so that his fingertips brush against the dark marks of her vallaslin. She guides his fingers across her features, tracing the lines of ink up her chin, across her cheekbones, over her brow. “These are for Andruil.”

“Ah, I remember her stories. She is the Huntress, yes? How very fitting.”

“I thought so, too,” Allys answers, pleased. She closes her eyes, leans into Zevran’s touch, and after a moment begins reciting something in elvhen. “Vir assan. Vir bor’assan. Vir adahlen.”

Zevran has no inkling what the words mean- he hadn’t stayed with the Dalish nearly long enough to learn any of the ancient language- but Allys’s voice, low and melodic, gives them a certain weight. It’s as if the meaning is right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite capture it.

Noticing his expression, Allys explains. “It’s the Way of the Hunt- Andruil’s code. I started learning that code from the time I was tall enough to fire a bow. I’ve spent so much of my life in the woods, learning the teachings of Andruil. When the time came to choose my vallaslin, it seemed appropriate to honor her.”

Zevran is silent for a moment, thinking back to his time with the Dalish. He’s learned the legends and the names of their gods, but the reverence with which the Dalish speak of their Pantheon…that isn’t something so easily taught. “Do you really believe in all those legends? They are good tales to tell, I give you that, but…”

Allys’s voice betrays no doubt when she answers. “I do.”

“Even in the midst of…” Zevran vaguely waves his hand, motioning to the entire world of calamity beyond the quiet sanctity of their tent. “…of all of this?”

“Even so.” Allys’s smile turns thoughtful, and her eyes go distant for a moment. “Maybe the gods themselves cannot step in and stop the Blight for us, but their presence is felt- by the Dalish, by me. It is because of Andruil and her lessons that I am alive today, that I have the skills to bring this destruction to an end.”

And there it is again- that sensation of being so close to something, but not managing to grasp it enough to even identify the feeling. In a way, it reminds Zevran of the Andrastians and their Maker. Something that just almost speaks to Zevran, but isn’t quite his.

Perhaps Zevran’s contemplation is showing on his face, for Allys gives him a searching look and asks, “What do you believe?”

Zevran quickly banishes his muddled thoughts and gives her a wry smile. “I am an assassin. The only things we believe in are steel and gold.”

Yes, steel and gold. Things that are solid and real, if somewhat less poetic than songs and prayer. It could be that in another life- one where the Crows weren’t constantly on his tail, one where he was able to settle somewhere for more than a few short weeks, perhaps even one where his mother never separated from her clan in the first place- he would have been able to take the time to study and prove himself and become part of the Dalish in truth, earning his own vallaslin. Perhaps in that life, he believes in a purpose for himself, believes that a god may look his way.

But that is not a life that belongs to him, nor one that he can truly imagine.

And yet Allys looks at him with a softness in her gaze. She leans closer and tenderly presses a kiss against his temple, at the start of his curving tattoo, then follows the mark down his cheekbone, planting more soft kisses along the way. Finally she moves to his lips, and whispers, “I don’t think that’s true. And I don’t think you do, either. You’re a better person that you give yourself credit for, and you don’t get that way through greed and violence. Maybe it’s not the gods, but you must believe in something greater than what the Crows taught you.”

“What makes you so certain of that, dear Warden?”

“Because I have faith in you.” Allys kisses his lips, softly, and then pulls back, the previous mischief returning to her expression. “And just so you know, that’s why I like your tattoos. Because whatever meaning they do or don’t have, they’re yours.”

Zevran does not know what to say. He wants to tell her she’s wrong, to try and make her see that these tattoos she admires are nothing but decoration and embellishment, just as dashing and shallow as every other tool of his trade. But his throat is thick and the words won’t come, so he just kisses her again, deeper this time, and tries not to dwell too much on her words or the look in her eyes.

He thinks about it all later that night, of course. The thoughts simply won’t leave, and a part of him wishes he could go back to when things like this were easy. This should be easy. Just another mission, another conquest. But maybe…maybe Allys is not entirely wrong. Zevran is not a Crow any longer. In truth, he doesn’t know what he is. But when he thinks of the woman in his arms- the woman who not only spared his life, but showed him what his life could be worth- he realizes there is nowhere in this world he wouldn’t follow her.

It is terrifying, and exhilarating, and Zevran wonders if perhaps this is what it feels like to have faith.

[maximuswolf]

I just want to give context to why 343i becoming Halo studios seems to be such a big story going on.

I just want to give context to why 343i becoming Halo studios seems to be such a big story going on. Long story short, for those who don't know, 343i the previous devs of Halo were quite possibly the worst group of people assembled to make Halo games. They literally bragged about how much their employees hated the past games that brought the franchise to it's peak and were confused when players got upset that Master Chief had very little screen time in Halo 5 saying that they never considered Master Chief important or the main character of Halo. These all sound like a joke but trust me, those are true, they even named their company after one of the villains and infamous backstabbers from the games. I don't get it but here's the list of the sins.The List of Sins goes as Such: 343i was well known for flat out lying about game features, having extremely brutal micro-transactions, chasing literally every trend expect for Battle Royale, having a weird focus on mobility and faster paced combat, removed core features replacing them with systems not even a fraction as fun, totally removing a playable race from Halo's 2, 3 and Reach, revamping the iconic art style, undoing previous events of the universe rewriting events from past games making their stories irrelevant, a weird drive on giving focus to hated characters, just flat out poor characters, killing off many characters seemingly at random such as the main character of Halo 3 ODST, making lore breaking events happen just because they want X character in Y location, stealing a faction from another dev company that worked on the universe and canning their sequel then ruining the faction that company made, creating a character that fundamentally destroys the Covenant's religion but doing nothing to address their existence and making an extremely massive retcon to the universe that is so mind numbingly stupid that it actually validates the Covenant's 30 year war of destruction against humanity in the series.So yeah there's alot and this is me being rather generous because I didn't speak on how they've promoted extremely hated people by the Halo community, whatever the fuck that TV show was and how they threw all the blame of a failed Halo title at a smaller company. 343i on every level was just a nightmare of a dev company where literally every former member of the company does nothing but shit talk them. I don't want to throw his name out there but there was a previous member of the company who left shortly after Halo 5 released to start his own company and shortly after leaving made a video with his new crew basically shitting on 343i. It was wild.So the dream is simple, the death/rebranding of 343i is the final acknowledgement that shit was wrong. 343i was one of those dev teams that would never admit fault, and someone point the finger at the community. Even the now iconic changes to the art style of Halo weren't even made by them, they were made by Creative Assembly when making Halo Wars 2, 343i just stole those designs for Halo Infinite. Again, shit dev, but the current head is the person who saved the MCC, brought it from the brink of death and was put in charge to do the same thing for the franchise. The changes to MCC were amazing though did start to lean in a weird place after it's popularity started to come back. So the hope is that, those weren't this guy's decisions but some out of touch overlord.This situation is purely based off hope, and the acknowledgement of 343i's own failures by the Halo Studios. There is nothing else behind it but the blind faith that since they've pointed out the cancer, that theycan now hopefully purge it which is why so many people seem unmoved by the change. They see it as the same company with the same problems but this is a matter of time telling. Submitted October 11, 2024 at 04:12AM by Knalxz https://ift.tt/s7oeABq via /r/gaming

[tvckerwash]

shdhjsjsjhdj ty!! I love talking with people and reading about their headcanons, especially when it comes to RvB’s lore since there are so many ways to interpret it.

My interpretation of Project Freelancer and Charon Industries as organizations, and RvB's lore in general relies pretty heavily on using Halo Canon as a base, as well as using it to fill in gaps or add context. It's not necessary to do so, but imo it clears up a lot of the more vague or under explored aspects of the series since RvB does take place in the Halo universe, albeit its own weird little corner. Using Halo as a base admittedly does cause some issues because of RvBs already fucked up continuity within itself, and certain aspects had to be changed from Halo canon for plot convenience.

A good example of that in action would be the origins of the Sarcophagus, aka the Huragok. In RvB the Huragok was created by Charon and the Director had it in his possession in 2547-2548 (I can't remember what year it is in the timeline from the fanguide atm, but it's 2547 in the timeline I've made/am making to better accommodate Halo canon), but in Halo canon it was one of the alien species apart of the Covenant, and it was first seen by humanity in 2552 (the same year the war ended).

RE: Why Freelancer was created, we learn in s6 that its original goal was to find a way to help turn the tide of the Human-Covenant War in humanity’s favor by equipping soldiers with advanced technology, and they were specifically experimenting with the effectiveness of smart AI in combat.

The Director wanted more than one smart AI for the project, but the UNSC refused to give him another one due to the risk that smart AI’s posed to humanity if the Covenant ever managed to get their hands on them. So when his request was denied he was probably Big Mad over the UNSC not catering to his wants, but surprise surprise, Alpha spontaneously created Beta (Tex), who was a fully functional AI, and that’s where he got the idea of fragmenting Alpha from.

What types of missions the Freelancers undertook outside of the ones we see is unknown, though I believe every mission undertaken against Charon’s forces weren’t official missions cleared by the UNSC or ONI or whatever body Freelancer was overseen by (probably ONI Section Three, since pfl is essentially RvB’s version of the SPARTAN Program). Due to the project’s nature they would’ve presumably been sent on lower profile missions that kept them away from public eye, much like the missions undertaken by the SPARTANS before ONI declassified their existence for morale. This most likely did include strikes against real insurrectionists, and probably the Covenant too.

Anyway, all of the missions against Charon see in the flashbacks were essentially the Director going “Fuck the UNSC, they’re a bunch of idiots, and I’m going to complete my experiments even if that means I need to steal from my allies, commit acts of terrorism, and psychologically torture an AI all while lying to my own operatives."

Though the missions in s10 are more to finish up C.T’s arc, and consequently explain what the hell was going on in the desert during Recollection by answering the questions that had been left unanswered, such as:

Why did the Director want the artifact hidden in the temple? Because it was a Forerunner AI that was capable of functioning for billions of years, and since smart AI have an average lifespan of seven years, he probably wanted to use it so that Tex could live forever or something along those lines.

Who was Tucker fighting against in the desert, and why were all of pfl’s forces who had been with him (sans Donut) slaughtered by “C.T”? He was fighting against Charon Industries, and they were killed because Project Freelancer was a terrorist cell as mentioned. 

Why was Wash shocked to see C.T and her armor in the desert? Because the real C.T was dead and they had failed to recover her armor from Charon’s forces (and yes I’m ignoring the fact that Wash canonically didn’t learn the truth until s10 because I think that’s dumb). 

On to the next point, despite no longer working for pfl Tex and Wyoming still wanted to win the ‘Great War” (which is what RvB calls the Human-Covenant War) for the same reason as the rest of humanity: Losing meant extinction, and in the words of the Director “When faced with extinction…Every alternative is preferable.” 

RE: Proto Recovery, I agree that there were recovery efforts prior to THE Recovery Force, though it was probably just recovery missions conducted by the Freelancers like we see with the attempt to recover C.T and her armor in s10.

I actually like to think that when the Director wasn’t being a moron and purposefully sending the wrong people on the wrong job (like the twins at the start of s9), Wash and C.T would typically be sent on the quieter recovery missions involving any and all digital data, whether that be collecting it, or wiping/destroying the information and the systems it would’ve been on via The Cole Protocol so that it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

After all, C.T is HackerwomanTM, and while we don’t see it past s6 I headcanon that Wash is a secret not so secret enjoyer of explosives who is very good at breaking things in a fiery manner (tbh this is mostly because I think it’d be really funny if the reason C.T wears armor designed to protect the wearer from explosives is because she’s often paired with the guy who will blow things up if it is acceptable to do so. Coincidentally it’s also a fantastic allegory (analogy? metaphor? idk my vocabulary is failing me rn but you know what I mean lmao) to Wash’s history of sudden, violent outbursts fueled by rage).

On the flip side North and South would typically be sent on the smash and grab recovery missions where stealth is optional, not mandatory, hence the Counselor being like “Yo this is not the right team for this mission Director.” at the start of s9 as mentioned. 

The rvb fandom ignoring the fact that there's the implied existence of at least 7 other recovery agents we know nothing about is wild to me.

[wonderwafles]

Five fic recs of mine, having been tagged by the fab @undercat-overdog! Thank you! <3

1. I’m proud of Metathesiophobia, which is a lighthearted chat between the Witch Queen Savathûn and Queen Mara Sov of the Awoken about death, afterlife, and change. I like the style of this one as well as the content, and I’m proud of the way I wrote it. Also, it’s always a pleasure to dig into the more mind-bending implications of Destiny lore.

2. I’ve recced this one before, but gosh golly, I’ll do it again; Love in the Time of Werewolves is probably the Tolkien fic I’m happiest with just as a full work. The style of writing is soooo fun and one I hope to do more of! :D

3. Far Old Places is my average-ly ongoing drabble(?) collection about the Krill AU, the timeline where the proto-Hive on Fundament receive the blessing of the Traveler and become Guardians. It’s still in my thoughts on how to continue it, I promise, no *really*

4. Path of Wisdom is a fic about the Halo tv series that I wrote two and a half years before the show came out, and honestly, I still like it. I enjoyed obliquely tying religion and alien biology together in a way that feels like it would make a really good ongoing premise, in what would be a pretty severe TV show AU nowadays.

5. This untitled fic I wrote for Destcember 2021 is a spooky Dark Age fic about how creepy Guardian resurrection can be. I like doing ghost stories as it turns out :D

I will tag @cappurrccino, @eri-223, @xivu-arath, @synnthamonsugar, @ageless-aislynn, and @seventhscorpio!

[lizzy-frizzle]

How to impress Elizabeth Phoenix Frizzle: - play halo with me - play ffxiv with me - play magic the gathering with me (I promise I won’t use my STAX deck*) - take me to an arcade (not during a pandemic) - watch scary movies with me - give me weed - show me that you remembered something I said a long time ago, that’s personal to me - talk to me about how much you love disco elysium - show me your ffxiv characters and tell me their lore *I’m lying, I’m totally gonna use my STAX deck

[ask-cloverfield]

Kelly-087 once flipped off an ancient defense drone and I need her to kick me in the throat shattering-

[meeowerzz]

heart beating faster, feet pushin on the floor (what I call HBF), is a 80s-90s dadschlatt au that focuses on beeduo. none of the characters are the ccs, they are the dsmp characters only.

I’m shit at categorizing things but I’d call HBF a morbid comedy

content warning: HBF contains and/or refers to death, substance abuse, addiction, abuse, vomiting, underage substance use, and slight description of corpses.

all referred content above doesn’t go into extreme detail, but it’s there regardless. please read with caution

chapter one!! “should I stay or should I go?”

fun fact! I wrote the first chapter as a random story for my creative writing class (which is why the whole ‘running away’ thing seems a bit,, ooc lmao)

I love how it formed from then and just,, wowow

Today, at exactly 11:23 am, while brushing his teeth, Tubbo decided that he was running away. Why was he running away exactly, you may ask? He simply decided that this wasn't his place, it was a life too boring for him to want to live.

...That and the fact that his father is floating face down in the backyard's pool, and he lacked the knowledge of burying someone. Being labeled as a murder would also would look horrible on a resume.

this was my favorite part of chapter 1 for awhile btw, like it’s morbid but chefs kiss

It wasn't his fault though- the man got wasted, threw a chair into the glass backdoor, threw a poorly aimed punch at him, then went out back to continue drinking with his friends. Tubbo simply woke up, swept glass, made coffee, went out back, saw his dad in the pool, possibly poked him with a plastic flamingo, then went back inside to brush his teeth.

he actually poked him with the flamingo, I think him possibly denying that he poked him was funny. imagine that in an interrogation

And now here he is, packing up duffle bags and loading some boxes into his beat up beetle. It would've been a suspicious sight to see him moving so much into his car if you've never lived on his street before, but this was a monthly occurrence to view. Not even the neighbor walking their dog cared.

I feel like I didn’t go into enough detail with this part. schlatt got pissed over a lot of tubbo’s shenanigans and kicked him out semiregularly. tubbo always came back after his dad sobered up and/or went to work

The last things to pack was a cooler and all the savings he had been collecting; he was planning on moving out early anyways, it just got moved to a closer date. Oh, and he needed to make sure no one stops by his house in the next week, it would be awkward if he wasn't out of the state when cops show up.

Picking the weighted phone off the wall, clicking plastic buttons as he dialed his aunt's number.

"Hey Aunt Puffy? It's Tubbo."

"Oh Tubbo, I wasn't expecting a call before I came by saturday." the static of the phone almost covered up the annoying noise of her seven year olds playing.

"Yeah about that- dad randomly decided that we were going camping for the next two weeks. Said I wasn't 'a real man' and needed to 'do manly things that way he raises a man and not a wimp'." all real quotes, but from a different time.

originally I was going to throw minor homophobic insults there- but decided that the shittier ones I threw there could’ve been built on later one yk

She remained silent for a moment, obviously judging the statement, but then sighed- "Oh well, there goes my weekend plans. Tell your father I said hi then, call when you get back."

puffy was always ooc in this and I felt rlly bad ab it. I should’ve watched her more out of egg lore o(-(

"Of course." oh, lying does feel nice sometimes.

She hung up after a second, and then Tubbo went off to finish packing.

--

The second to last stop on his list was Halo's Convenience Store, otherwise known as the gas station at the edge of town.

"Ranboo! I have arrived." he threw his arms out to make his entrance grander, much to the disliking of the man who Ranboo was ringing up at the counter.

"Tubbo! Nice to see you, my guy! How's it goin?"

"Just coming by to steal you." hopping over the counter, helping himself to the mini fridge and gummy worms.

boo is so gas station core. u agree.

"Child- you know that those are only for staff to reach." Mr. Halo’s voice echoed across the small convenience store, his words held a blantically obvious annoyed tone.

"Sorry Bad- I'll be out of your hair once Boo finishes their shift!"

yeah I don’t know why I made BBH own a convenience store, it kinda just happened. insert ‘why he driving the bus all the sudden’ meme.

"That's what you say every time, and then you stay for an hour eating items without paying and scaring people away from my store- get your grimy hands off the merchandise."

"Sir I'm a growing boy, are you denying me nutrients? Are you trying to malnourish me?" Tubbo accused, using his 3 years of high school theater acting skills and causing Ranboo to chuckle.

imagine the most exaggerated voice for those lines btw. HBF tubbo was an over the top drama kid before dropping out

He, of course, grumbled in return, but dropped it.

“Boo, my Beloved, will you do me the honor of getting off work early?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Thought we should get away for a while.” a simple answer, wasn’t a lie or the full truth. A good medium.

“Hmm- maybe I can figure something out.”

That wasn’t the answer Tubbo was hoping for.

“How about just leaving this shithole now?” he suggested, shoving some gummy worms into his mouth.

“Hey! Language!” Bad barked from a different aisle than before.

“Sorry!”

“Depends if we’re going to get Taco Bell after work.”

That could be done. Tubbo would make Ranboo pay though, man’s got a bit of money to spend.

“Taco Bell could be arranged.”

Ranboo smiled and grabbed a handful of gummy worms from the other’s bag.

“Sounds like a plan then- let’s go.”

Tubbo smiled back, grabbing a few more snack bags and some drinks before sliding over the counter once more.

another reason BBH hated tubbo’s ass in this was the regular occurrence of stealing shit from the store. I like to think there’s a bulletin board with banned costumers on it- tubbo’s on it at least 3 times

"To the Bumblebee!" the duo ran out the convenience store before Mr. Halo could even mutter in protest.

"Excuse the mess in the back, had to throw some stuff in here at the last minute."

"Fine with me as long as the seats are clean." Ranboo mutters as he takes off his cashier apron.

The car doors slam shut with a click, Ranboo fastens his seat belt as Tubbo drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

"So, where to?"

"After grabbing your stuff from home, hopefully across state lines in a few hours." Tubbo says in a quick breath, grumbling about the car's slow start up.

"Wait- what?"

"We have to get your stuff first dude."

"No no- why state lines? Tubbo what's going on?" Ranboo's tone went from curious to concerned, their fingers fiddling with the seat belt.

"Boss Man, we're on the run."

Tubbo hit the gas, speeding the two out of the parking lot before Ranboo could say more.

"Tubbo! Hold on! Stop!!" the poor teen yelped, his hands holding onto the dashboard like a lifeline.

Just for kicks, Tubbo took his request wholeheartedly and slammed the brakes.

"If you don't tell me what's going on right now I'm going to throw myself out of this car."

"You wouldn't dare."

But Ranboo did dare- his seat belt unbuckles.

"Fine! Fine! My dad fucking died and I do not want to be blamed for murder."

“HE WHAT?” Ranboo almost launched himself out of the car then and there.

“My dad’s dead, and I’m getting away before being accused of murdering him by law enforcement.”

“Wh- how? Are you ok? Did you get hurt? Why, no wait- how- jesus.”

“Boo I’m fine, and no, I didn’t actually kill him.”

Ranboo completely sunk into his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as they curled into themself.

“There is no way this is real right now.”

“Well I wouldn't lie about running away would I?”

Ranboo paused for a moment before answering.

“...No.”

“Would I lie about my dad dying?”

“No.” the reality started to sink in for Ranboo, his face becoming pale.

“Exactly.” Tubbo didn’t realize he was holding his breath until then, a long sigh escaped his lips.

“...Look Boss Man,” he tapped his foot anxiously next to the gas pedal, heart beating fast, “I know this is definitely a lot, but I wanted you to go with me.”

haha semi title pun,, so silly

Ranboo slightly uncurled, focusing their eyes on the dirty green sneaker that was fighting the urge to hit the gas.

“If I do run away, I want you to come with. There’s a high chance I’ll never come back here again, and I don’t want to leave you here. So...would you like to join me?”

“I...Tubbo- look.”

Oh.

Ranboo took a deep breath, uncurling in his seat completely.

“This,” he gestured to the rest of the car with his hand, “is absolutely terrifying, and there is no way in hell I don’t see this ending in some bad way that involves getting arrested or eaten by bears or something. But I don’t want that happening to you.”

Oh?

“So alright, let’s go. I’m definitely going to regret some of this later, but let’s run away.”

That was music to Tubbo’s ears. His foot slammed the gas, launching the two down the road.

“Thanks Boss Man, you’re literally the best.”

“I am. Are we still going to stop for Taco Bell?”

“No.” Tubbo laughed, too happy to care about buying a $4.95 taco right now.

dawg I don’t think that’s even the price of a taco bell taco. I literally threw numbers there tbh

Today at 2:34 pm, Ranboo would think that he would regret more things than he originally planned.

I’m going to post hbf chapter by chapter and ramble ab it on the dash and y’all are going to ask me ab stuff and love it sm (affirmation)

[literalliterature]

[ID: The tumblr "My Year In Review" banner. End ID/]

I posted 6,442 times in 2022

That's 2,651 more posts than 2021!

190 posts created (3%)

6,252 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gendercents

@keplercryptids

@tiroll

@kallistoi

@accessible-art

I tagged 3,678 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#dungos & drangies - 370 posts

#tag yourself - 364 posts

#captioned - 277 posts

#polished locks on ancient doors - 216 posts

#me af - 179 posts

#greece lightning - 176 posts

#aminals - 170 posts

#i really need a plushie tag - 159 posts

#the ancients - 146 posts

#❣️ - 137 posts

Longest Tag: 141 characters

#🎶 with on for after at by in against about of near between through over up off down out to around among beyond into still within without upo

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Werewolf in sheep clothing because I wanted to draw an autumn guy in a sweater. Fighting for my gd life to shake off some art block.

[ID: A colored and softly shaded sketch of a cartoony werewolf puppy wearing a red sweater with a pattern of white sheep on it. The werewolf is sitting on the floor with their legs spread and scratching their side. Behind them is a white circle against a warm yellow background. End ID.]

195 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#4

Ok I broke down and drew This Man as a little warm-up

[ID: A cartoony animated drawing of the male Carnotaurus from Prehistoric Planet. He is a large, bipedal dinosaur who is mostly light brown, with darker stripes, back, and tail. He also has horn-like projections on his head and, notably, tiny, bright blue arms. He flaps them frantically with his head tilted up and his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. The background is light green. End ID.]

264 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

#3

Practicing shapes with @pangur-and-grim 's creechurs

[ID: A drawing of two cats. The first is a warm brown tabby with a white belly, chin, and muzzle and wide green eyes. She is lying down in a loaf. Sitting behind her is a fluffy white cat with a long muzzle and ears, as well as purple eyes. Both have yellow haloes behind them. The background is beige. End ID.]

495 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

#2

Just wanted to do a real quick one. Bearange :)

[ID: A simplified drawing of an orange bear in profile with a cream-colored belly and muzzle. The bear has brown cheek freckles, a dot eye, and a couple of green leaves sprouting from their head. They look upward with one paw raised. Around them are two whole oranges and one orange slice. The background is light blue. End ID.]

611 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i love you hidden PC lore i love you secrets about characters unknown even to their own players i love you DMs who leave information for players to uncover about their own characters i love you gaping holes in backstories waiting to be filled i love you revelations that the PCs were connected before even meeting each other i love you seamless weaving of the PCs' stories into the larger plot

1,236 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[emmaannaelisabeth]

Short Circuit

ahh hi everyone, remember i told you about some new ocs earlier? now you'll get to meet two of them. i hope you like them!lore uses she/they pronouns and honestly that was a challenge to write but i hope i've made them and all of you that use she/they pronouns justice. also even though i'm posting this, the characters might change over time just as we all do. to know where this takes place in the swk au, look at the caption of the post. possible tws: mild swearing.

The blade is already clean, but Ava keeps polishing it with her soft rag. She sits with her legs crossed on the couch, a thin blanket draped over her legs. Her dark hair is up in a messy bun, a few rebellious strands of raven black hanging down, falling over her shoulder. “So how did the lab go? You got teamed up today right? Like you talked about.” Without taking her eyes off her knife, she asks Lore about the science project.

Lore is lying on the floor, her legs propped up against the couch, sticking straight up; their left arm is bent up, her hand resting on the back of their neck. Her wide-legged pants have slipped down to her knees and her feet are bare; the afternoon sun shines through one of the windows and makes the hairs on her leg glitter.

She draws in a deep breath and catches the ball they were throwing into the air. “Horrible”, she answers Ava and throws the ball again, catching it perfectly as it falls down. “I love physics but like for real, I can’t with this guy.”

Ava huffs and raises her eyebrows, glancing at Lore. “That bad?”

“Huh, you have no idea”, they complain. “Saints, my partner.. He’s such an idiot.” She throws the ball again and shakes her head, rolling their eyes. “First of all, he doesn’t say a word. And secondly, he’s way too confident for not knowing the difference between voltage and current.”

“I don’t know the difference”, Ava laughs, lifting up her knife and turning it in the sunlight falling in from the window across the room.

“But you’re not taking an extra science class thinking it’ll go perfect just because you’re a year older”, Lore says and pulls her free hand through her wavy shoulder long hair. “He’s an H guy, he doesn’t know anything about physics.”

“He’s an H guy?” Ava laughs and rolls her eyes. “Sometimes the history dudes should just stick to their trading history.”

“I know”, Lore mutters. “I mean, I chose the Science path because I actually like maths and physics. But this guy can’t even count 37 minus 15 in his head.”

Ava chuckles and glances at Lore on the floor. Their golden earrings glitter in the sunlight and the dark orange patterned scarf around her head makes their green eyes look even greener than they usually are. Her brown hair lies around their head like a halo of mahogany. She throws the ball into the air once more; her open sleeve slides down their arm as she lifts her hand to catch the ball, showing a small golden chain around her wrist.

“Is he hot?” Lore’s eyes widen and their thin eyebrows fly high up on their forehead at Ava’s question. They try to hold back a laugh, grinning, squeezing her eyes shut. They fail to catch the ball and it falls down on her chest. “Well, um”, they begin and pick up the ball before it has rolled away. “He’s got hot potential.”

“Hot potential?” Ava lays the knife down in her lap and looks at Lore, frowning. “As in..?” She trails off and raises her eyebrow at Lore, giving her a subtle grin. Lore turns her head and meets Ava’s gaze and then they burst out laughing. Ava tries not to join, but Lore has got that kind of big broad loud laughter that you simply cannot resist.

“Ah, nah”, they chuckle, shaking her head. “He’s too stupid.”

“What, he’s too stupid?” Ava covers her face with her hands. “Excuse me but have you seen Eskil?”

Lore chuckles, her double chin making an appearance as she turns her head to look at Ava. “Oh, I’ve seen that crackhead almost kill himself, thank you.” They shake their head and squeeze her eyes shut. “What was it last time? Didn’t he try to fry something?”

“Oh Saints”, Ava breathes, leaning back on the couch. “Yes, he tried to cook.” She sighs and blinks slowly. “He almost burned down the apartment.”

Another chuckle passes Lore’s lips and she rolls their eyes. “But like, Eskil is smart”, they say. “This guy isn’t. He connected the wire wrong and short circuited the battery.”

“Eskil would’ve blown up the battery. What’s his name?” Ava asks and raises her eyebrows in excitement. Lore rolls her eyes.

“Mr. Quiet Ass”, they say.

“Seriously, Lore. I wonder if I know him.”

“Mr. Overly Confident.”

“Florence.”

Lore sighs and stops fiddling with the ball. “I don’t know”, they say. “It was something short.” She pauses. “He’s got pretty hands though.” Her eyes are locked at the ceiling. “And a ring.”

“Lore”, Ava says and grins. “You looked at his hands?”

“What? No,” Lore says and frowns at Ava. “I did not, or like of course I had to because I needed to know he fixed it right, the wire.”

“And you don’t remember his name? Saints.”

“No, you know I’m bad at remembering names. I can remember faces but not names.”

“Okay but what does he look like then? And give me a one to ten.” Ava puts her elbow on the armrest and rests her head in her hand, as she waits for Lore to speak. At first, Lore’s eyes widen but then the fragment of a smile flicker’s past her lips, there and then gone. Almost unnoticeable.

“He’s got dark hair, almost black, one strand fell down into his forehead when he destroyed the battery. He wore a knitted shirt and black pants”, they say and frown, squint their eyes, as if to remember everything correctly. It always amazes Ava how good memory Lore has, she can remember what a person wore two weeks ago, and she always pays attention to the little details, like the fact that her lab partner had orange socks and short nails.

“His eyes were grey, almost colourless and he had round glasses”, Lore says. “He had some acne scars on his cheek but you don’t really notice it. He’s got a pretty sharp jawline. He was pretty tall too, just a little taller than me.”

Ava huffs, glancing at Lore, as she tries her best to hide a grin. She doesn’t know who the guy is but from what she can tell, he definitely has hot potential. “And what number do you give him?”

“Three”, they say. “I give Mr. Stupid a three.”

“What?” Ava frowns and straightens her back. “You can’t give him a three if he’s got hot potential. That’s at least a seven.”

“Ah, fine”, Lore sighs, meets Ava’s gaze. A smile hides in the corner of their lip. “Maybe an eight then.”

Ava laughs and raises her fist into the air. “I knew it.”

“Oh, hold on there”, Lore giggles. “He’s still stupid. He’s still Mr. Short Circuit.”

“You told me he was tall”, Ava says.

“That you’re tall doesn’t help when you leave your brains at home.”

Lore shakes their head at Ava, who’s tilting her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. “Nuh uh”, Lore says. “Not gonna happen.”

“Why not? You told me you wanted someone too.”

“He’s frickin annoying! And honestly, he’s not that nice either. He might be an eight but he didn’t say a word to me unless he really had to. I don’t need people like that in my life.”

“Maybe he was just nervous?” Ava tries.

“I don’t like him.”

“You do, I know that face.”

“I hate him”, Lore says and throws the ball into the air again, trying to hide the fact that she’s blushing.

“You don’t”, Ava teases.

“I do, with every fibre of my eternal being I say I do.” They catch the ball and throw it up again with a little more power than the last time.

“You’re not eternal.”

“I still say I do.”

Ava laughs and shakes her head. “Well, you know what-”

The door to Ava’s apartment squeaks when it opens and Eskil’s laughter fills the room with the same warmth as the sunlight does. “Djel, she glared at you the whole time?” he says and the door closes.

“Yeah, she looked so mad. I tell you, if gazes could kill I’d already be buried”, another voice says. “Deep.” Ava recognises the voice as Arie’s, Eskil’s best friend for as long as she can remember, and gets ready to get up and greet them. Lore moved here with her family a month ago and hasn’t had the chance to meet Arie yet. Ava picks up the dagger and stands up, but before she’s taken another step, they’ve entered the room.

Eskil and Arie stand there, the height difference hopelessly obvious in the sunlight. “Oh, you two look like you’re having a good time”, Eskil says, his smile bright as always. Then the room goes quiet. Lore stops throwing the ball as soon as her gaze lands on Arie. “For fucks sake”, she mutters and stares at him. He’s got round glasses, a ring and orange socks.

“Saints”, Ava whispers and the dagger slips out of her hand and cuts deep into the wooden floorboards. No one moves.

“Why y’all so weird?” Eskil breaks the silence, a question mark written all over his face. He looks at Arie; he’s staring at Lore, his back straight and jaw twitching. Then Eskil’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

“Oh.” He points at Lore with one hand and the other at Arie. “So that’s…” He can’t even finish the sentence before he’s bending over with laughter. He wheezes and grabs Arie’s arm, barely even able to stand straight.

“Well, man”, Eskil says and claps Arie on the back, drying tears from his eyes. “I ship it.” Arie turns his head to his friend. Eskil tries desperately not to laugh, pressing his lips together so tight they go white.

“I’m gonna kill you”, Arie hisses and Eskil can’t keep it in anymore. He bursts out laughing and stumbles out of the room as quickly as he can. Arie follows right behind him. Lore covers their face with her hands.

[themanicnami]

Fog in Witchcraft

Fog is often a forgotten aspect of weather that seems to get passed over when it comes to witchcraft despite it having some powerful and noble uses as well as a history in the craft. Though not all areas get fog commonly, many do, almost every morning depending on the time of year. Allow this small post to perhaps be some help to those who have interest in harnessing fog into their craft.

History and Fiction

As stated above, in many literary sources witches of both historical senses and fiction harness fog as a powerful towel. In popular lore, witches were said to summon fogs to roll across the lands to protect fleeing mothers and children during wars to hide from invading soldiers, though this lore is hard to pin point down, it is often said to come from Celtic and Gaelic origins.

In other tales witches would summon fog to protect traveling royalty or heroes who are on a quest to reach lands that may be unfriendly to their arrival. At some other times fog was related to almost like the “witching hour” it meant it was a time that the supernatural were out and witches were casting their spells.

Fog as a Liminal Space

What is a liminal space? To put it simply it means a “transforming space” or a place that the Veil or energies are thinner and overcross one another. Often they are associated with spirit work, energy work, astral work and over all witchcraft. Some call these places or areas “places where one area and time stop and another begins”.

In many cases, places that are covered by fog often are said to be liminal spaces during this time, due to the surrealism and energy fog brings with it. It turns something mundane looking to mysterious, confusing and even to some creepy. Its concealing nature brings the feeling of the unknown and the unseen.

Traditionally and theatrically fog is often used to represent the Veil between worlds and afterlife, often used in settings of literature and movies by covering graveyards before something supernatural happens or by filling the streets at night when magick is about to begin. Often when many people who don’t practice the craft think of supernatural energies and the Veil they imagine a foggy night or a wall of fog, this imagery is for a reason.

Often, fog is seen as an important tool for spirit work both fictionally and modernly due to its relations of being a liminal space and therefore seen as easier to contact spirits with the barriers weaker when it arrives.

Correpsondences and Uses of Fog

Generally Fog Corresponds with - The Veil, Spirits/Spirit Work, The Hidden, The Unseen, Invisibility, Protection, Obstruction, Curses/Hexes, Warding, Meditation, Astral Work, Fear, Patience, Calmness, Serenity, Peace and Travel

Often times, fog is useful to one when they wish to cast or enchant items for invisibility and protection during travel, often necklaces or items enchanted while out in the fog. Others will take the opportunity of using fog for spiritual communication, past life work and astral projection, taking advantage of the weakened barriers and Veil for these purposes.

Associations

Crystals - Clear Quartz, Smokey Quartz, Thunder Egg

Herbs/Plants - Cotton, Broom, Saffron, Thistle/Thicket, Wheat, Pansy

Colors - Gray, Silver, Black, Blue

Other Tools - Steam, Incense/Smoke, Wands, Besoms, Branches, Storm Water/Rain Water, Ash, Dust, Mirrors and Gray Candles

Fog Summoning

There are many ways said to summon fog. A few of those ways will be listed below

Method 1: Using storm water boiling it until it has thick amounts of steam rising from it, carefully move it outside or to a window (if one is not already outside) and offer it to the sky. Many will chant or call to the weather or winds to bring them fog much like the steam of the pot.

Method 2: In water on a burner add storm or sea salt and a sigil on paper for fog. Close the lid to it and wait until it is boiling. Remove the lid and allow the steam to rise. Here chant if desired for fog or let the water boil until it is nearly gone.

Method 3: With a besom go outside if it is a private space and much like wind summoning call to the fog to come to you, using your tool as an extension of yourself and your energy. Remember to ask it to come rather than demand for it.

Method 4: Using storm water or rain water, ash and a jar fill it with these ingredients and shake it thoroughly to summon fog. Be sure to center yourself and focus on your energy to put into this fog summoning jar. Leave it outside or in a window afterwards for further effects.

Fog Water

Fog water is a tool that can be used for witchcraft when fog is not rightfully available or in place of rain water/storm water in fog summoning. To capture fog water is pretty easy though you must be able to accept small amounts.

First you will need either very fine fabric or mesh or screen similar to what can be found in windows or for fishing nets. Tight it taunt onto something to hold it up like rods or sticks. Make sure it is held up at least a couple feet above the ground and somewhere the fog will roll through it. Base it off of how high the fog in your area tends to be, if you have low rolling fogs it may work better lower to the ground. After or during a time of fog you should be able to see droplets of water forming on it, you may use a jar tied below a corner of it to capture these drops or you can collect it yourself during/after they have formed. You can build much larger versions of this for potable water gathering and tutorials on this can be found easily online if that may interest you.

Store your fog water in glass containers and in the fridge, be sure to date and label to ensure you are using fresh water. Do not drink this water unless you set up the proper potable filtration systems.

Diffusing Fog

Often witches will find themselves tasked with fog being a hindrance rather than helpful. Its a dangerous weather condition especially for those on the road or at sea. 

Historically, sea witches would be asked to disperse fog for the safe return and port of sea vessels and the men upon them. Though it is difficult to find exact spells from these times, often broom or heather is used by facing the sea with it in hand and waving at the fog, putting energy into it and telling the fog to disperse. Other times it is said using a broom/besom to summon winds to remove the fog was a preferred way.

Other options for witches is to sing a fog removal song and often dance accompanied with it and with either a besom or wand in hand, direct the fog to travel away from you and somewhere else. Other witches have found success in praying and working with weather deities to move the fog back to the sky or to lead it away.

Omens, Superstitions and Dreams

In omens it is said fog represents blindness. It blocks our ability to see clearly and makes normal directions seem impossible to follow. It can go hand in hand with confusion and the feelings of anxiety. When fog appears in visions it is to be seen often as a warning that things are about to get just that - foggy.

Though it is also related to shrouding oneself, it may be a sign that it is time for you to create a fog about yourself and to build up those wards.

Superstition wise it was believed fog would steal people, often due to people getting lost in it and vanishing, because of this fog is seen as a warning of loss to come. Some cultures even associate it directly with death.

In dreams fog holds many meanings. If the fog is throughout the whole dream then it is a warning of deception. Someone is deceiving you and deep down you know it to be true. If you dream of being wrapped in fog and it is too thick to see through or escape it is often related to feeling that someone has stolen something from you. Dreaming of wandering in a foggy environment is a warning of dangers to come, keep on your toes. If you escape fog it means you are avoiding danger or theft.

If one dreams of fog just being around their head, eyes or following above them like a halo/hat, then it is an indication that you are lying to yourself. You are refusing to let yourself see the truth. It can also be a play of the saying “its all in your head” meaning you are overthinking a problem.

If you dream of fog and snow together, it is often said to be a dream related to sickness soon to come. Others say its a sign that illness of the mind and emotions is going to creep its way in.

If one dreams of their home, bedroom or apartment being filled with fog it is often taken as a bad omen and sign that a large family drama is soon to come.

Seeing a figure in fog in dreams can have different meanings. If it is someone that you know it means they may be hiding things from you or that you are going to have a fight with them in the near future. It can also indicate if you are in the fog and you see them outside of the fog, that you are guilty about something you did to them. Seeing a stranger in the fog or a shadow you do not recognize is often due to anxiety or fear in one’s waking life. They represent the unknown and the future to come, which you are currently stressed over. Animals in the fog can represent both anxieties and fears looming about you but also can represent that you a repressing your own desires and natural wants.

If you see fog rolling in from the distance of a dream it means something is looming in your waking life. If fog starts descending down on you in a dream from the sky to the ground, many take this as a bad omen for travel especially by air or sea. Historically it is said a foggy sea in your dreams means a shipwreck in your future. Though fog over a lake or river means dream-like wonder and is said that young women who dream of this can expect a mysterious stranger in their future.

Fog and Different Types of Witchcraft

Sea Witchcraft - Fog is often seen as more of a hindrance in ocean magick, especially historically when fog at sea or port could be rather hazardous and bring tragedy to many. Due to this, fog in sea magick is often used for more negative tasks like cursing.

Storm Magick - Fog is often seen more in the light of a less harsh type of weather compared to storms or rain but still one that can be used to harness energy. The energy of foggy weather is much more mysterious, calm and hazy than that of storm or wind. It can be used for such purposes.

Death Magick - Fog is often related to the barriers of the other-side as some may say, so many death witches will take advantage of fog to use it to communicate and commune with the dead. Many report that it can make using tools of communication like Ouija boards and pendulums easier.

Divination - Often fog can be seen as a hindrance for divination though it is often deeply routed with self discovery and past life work. Many will take the opportunity of foggy weather to explore their past lives and the history of themselves and others. 

[xiaosmoon]

hi there!!!

this is for the matchup event!!!

pronouns: she/her

zodiac sign: capricorn

mbti: infj/isfj

weapon: i think I'd use either a bow or a catalyst, can't choose between the two

likes & dislikes: i really, really like food lmao, hmm i like nighttime, i like learning (about anything) i also like reading articles or books!! ooo i also like listening to ambient music, idk if that'll help with the matchup tho. ooh i also like wearing dark colors lmao, i almost never wear colors. for dislikes, i dislike overly loud people and people who don't listen to others opinions. i also dislike crowds and basically anywhere noisy or chaotic.

about myself: so i'd say im pretty quiet, im a chill, relaxed kind of person. i care deeply for those i love (and friends) but it takes a long time to build that trust for me. i stay up pretty late (currently it's 4 am rn 💀) and i just like relaxing things like reading, gaming, or just literally lying down doing nothing. i do like walks tho, i like going to new places too. some interests are: star wars, halo (videogame series), reading into lore of videogames/star wars, reading in general, and staying up all night everyday lmao (i may or may not get much sleep but that's okay lmao)

id like to be matched with a guy please!!!!

sorry if this was repetitive, ive never done one of these before

thanks and have a wonderful day!!!!

i saw ur other ask about you being 5'0!

your vision & s/o would be...

xiao

vision: electro

for your first date, you guys go to a late night drive in!

as a couple, you guys have tons of late nights together. (you both seem like night owls) so you guys just talk about nothingness until you eventually fall asleep

xiao buys you food all the time. you're hungry? he's gonna order takeout

you always steal his clothes bc you have similar fashion taste

you and xiao also always game together! or if you're not in the mood for gaming, you would be cuddled up next to him reading a book while he games

overall, you guys make a cute couple