#Phase-Gate process

[ohnoproblems]

i've played a lot of caves of qud

i've played a lot of caves of qud. it's a good game! there's this thing in the game where sometimes - vanishingly rarely - you'll encounter a box of crayons that to all appearances is a box of crayons like any other. but they are actually nanocrayons. so if you draw something with this box of nanocrayons and target an empty tile, then it will function like the wish command and search the game's blueprints for a valid creature or item to bring into existence in that square, consuming the nanocrayons in the process. naturally i buy crayons whenever i see them in my runs and i test them and then add a note on them marking them as duds. my favorite test is "Agate Severance Star" - try it yourself!

but this is behavior i have developed after the fact. because in all that playtime, i have found one (1) box of nanocrayons. it was completely by happenstance, when i was just bumbling around below grit gate as usual. it was a box of crayons like any other, and i tested it on a complete whim. my thought process went entirely like: "what should i type in here to test this with? oh, i know! a silver nugget. that's an object."

so i typed in 'silver nugget', which, dear reader, in a world that contains zetachrome halberds and hand-e-nukes and phase cannons and schrodinger pages from the annals of qud [chapter unspecified] and metamorphic polygels, i remind you is a 1lb metallic trade good worth a fixed price of 50 drams of water. and a silver nugget appeared! and for an instant i smiled, for i now had a silver nugget. and then i immediately buried my head in my hands and groaned.

[jasminedragonart]

Another little fanfic nitpick. For those of you who need it, I will be putting a reference below for those who are writing about children. This is just from my experience as someone who has a nibling as well as someone who has educated children for a good few years now teaching a wide variety of ages.

So, here is your child chart:

Ages 0-1: Blob. They can barely function without help. They need carried to do the most basic of things. Some of them can walk but not all, and their walking is not without a LOT of hand holding. They can make noises that sound like words, and maybe even say one or two, but they have no idea what those words mean. There is nothing behind their eyes. Will primarily be fed on milk for the first 6 months and then move onto solids once their teeth come in.

Ages 1-2: They can say a few more words. They can recognise those who look after them and say simple things. My nibling knows tractor and cat. They can walk. They will have a fascination with something weird, like their feet and putting and taking off not only their own shoes but other people's. There's a little bit behind their eyes but for the most part they don't know where they are or what is happening around them. They may still be on milk for the first half of their first year but they'll move onto primarily solids and water for most of their diet.

Ages 2-3: They're a little more switched on. They know what behaviours will give them attention and be it good or bad they'll do it. They might be toilet trained but it's all dependent on the parent. They babble. A lot. It's mainly a string of words they'll know but they'll all have different meanings. Shoe could mean, where are my shoes. It could also mean, hello, how are you, I haven't seen you in a while. It's all part of the communication process. They might move onto actual sentences midway through their second year but they will be short and the words extremely simple. They like to run around but their attention spans are still small so they'll lose interest after a while. They will climb out of their cribs and across the baby gates as they've figured it out. My nibling is currently costing my sibling hundreds of pounds because they now have to buy a new toddler bed despite my nibling not necessarily needing one yet. This is because they've figured out how to climb out and the crib is now a safety hazard.

Ages 3-4: They're at a really interesting phase here. They're a lot more independent than they were at 2, which for some is pretty independent, but they also regress a lot. They might not sleep very well, they'll fall down a lot more. This is because they know a lot more and understand a lot more around them. They're actually turning into a little person at 3. On the tail end they'll be a sort of mentor to those younger than them, babies and toddlers fascinating them as they try and understand what's happening around them.

Ages 4-5: Whatever progress they've been making is gone. They now have nothing once more behind their eyes. They are just chaos, turning in circles and licking the floor. As someone who had to teach 4 and 5 year olds, their attention spans are horrific and they will wander off back to their parents to sit on their parent's knee while they glare at you for not understanding that they don't know what left and right are. There will be the odd one or two who find sentience again but this is rare. Sentience is usually not found until age 6. that being said they can communicate a lot better, speaking in bigger sentences. They can also start to learn to write and retain some knowledge imparted on them.

Ages 6: They're back and meaner than ever. They can and will tell you the truth. They will tell on their parents, teachers, friends just because you've told them lying is bad. They are brutally honest and will share their opinion. They will talk for hours on end and call your name seventy times if they think you haven't heard them properly.

Ages 7: They're a fountain of knowledge at this age. They usually have specific hyperfixations and interests that will influence their lives from this point onwards. They'll love getting messy, playing outside and watching cartoons. Their reading level should be fairly decent if they go to a good school and have a good support group around them. This is the best age to get them interested in a sport as they actually have the attention span to enjoy it, maybe even compete in it if they want to join a football club or something. But they are still really young so they will take everything as truth if you tell it to them.

Ages 8: This is one of the last truly childhood years. They're still ignorant of the wider world, and not much truly changes between seven and eight save a lot of friendship building and deeper interest and understanding in their interests.

Ages 9: This is where they start to understand a bit more grown up things. They might be taught about puberty at this age, by that I mean, in my school we had someone come in and warn us about periods. It might seem young, but some girls can get their periods earlier than others and develop earlier than others. They'll understand that girlfriends and boyfriends are a thing and while they'll still thing it's disgusting there will be a deeper understanding that it's something that might happen to them rather than the bliss of years before when pretend weddings were something fun they emulated because they saw it on TV or in their family and wanted a big party like that too.

I might do a separate post for ages 10 and up but this is the basic stages of childhood. So next time you think your five year old in your fic can run away successfully from home just remember, they can't. They are five. There is nothing going on up there except big feelings and big emotions. They will likely cling to their parents and if they do run away, it's literally just around the corner and they will come back inside when it gets cold enough or they want more attention. Your five year old doesn't know left and right never mind can wield a sword. At least make them eight. Dick Grayson was 8 when he became Robin, I feel like that should be the benchmark for every child who is put into a situation. Make them 8 otherwise they don't know what's going on.

If there's more to add, please feel free to. This is, again, just what I've observed from years of working with little kids.

[rainerioun]

WHAT'S HAPPENING IN 2025? | pick a card.

— It's been quite a while since I’ve shared a reading, and I want to apologize for that. I’ve been dealing with a lack of motivation and a busy schedule, but I’m feeling better now and eager to share more! I’m still working on a "pick a card" reading that someone requested—it’s on the way. Wishing you all a wonderful 2025, thank you!

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST. | KO-FI.

PILE ONE

What's Happening In 2025? Five of Swords, Ten of Swords, Six of Pentacles [Reversed].

This new year will teach you what it feels like to face disappointment, but also how to accept it, grow from it, and pursue something better. You may have stepped into 2025 already carrying a sense of failure or conflict in some way. This year is all about focusing on yourself and finding ways to truly support your well-being—not out of obligation, but because you want to. Let go of one-sided dynamics; there’s no need to hold onto imbalances, even if they seem harmless right now. This is your time to reclaim balance and prioritize what you deserve.

Extra! - The Garden and the Gate : Abundant Prosperity, Staying Safe. - Alchemist : Transformation of base motives and goals into golden wisdom. - Saboteur : Highlights your fear of self-empowerment and the changes it would bring into your life.

Every year has felt the same because of your fear of the unknown. What would really happen if you made even a small change? You have the resources—and perhaps even the desire—to explore and follow the path meant for you, but you’ve grown too comfortable where you are. Don’t hold yourself back. It’s time to shift your motives and reignite your drive. That’s how you’ll achieve your true goals. The time for change is now—let go of self-sabotaging tendencies.

PILE TWO

What's Happening In 2025? Ace of Swords [Reversed], King of Wands, Ten of Cups.

In 2025, it's time to step into a "king role" and take charge of your life. Embrace leadership, not just in practical matters but in shaping the bigger picture of your journey. You’ll have a greater purpose to work toward, which might shake things up or even draw judgment from others. But remember, this process is about achieving clarity—both within yourself and in your external world.

When these challenges come your way, rise to the occasion with confidence and boldness. By doing so, you'll attract more stable, lasting relationships—both romantic and platonic—that align with this new phase of your life. Everything will begin to fall into place.

For some, existing relationships may deepen and progress to the next level. For others, new opportunities to connect with the right person may arise. Ultimately, this year is about building a foundation of stability and security in every area of your life.

Extra! - Hostilities : Defenses Up, Aggressive Energy. - The World : Expansion, Opening Up. - The Temple Path : Spiritual Purpose and Support. - Shape-Shifter : Skill at navigating through different levels of consciousness. Ability to see the potential in everything. - Priest : Facilitates spiritual commitments. Serves as a channel for spiritual energy.

A lot of cards came out for this message, reinforcing the idea of standing in your power and holding your ground when faced with challenges or questions. This isn’t the time to fall into people-pleasing, stay true to yourself and your values.

There’s a sense of expansion—this could manifest in your career, relationships, online presence, or general resources. However, a key message I heard is that your location might change. You could be moving to a new place, possibly even returning to your roots or closer to where you or your family originally come from. This shift will bring growth and help ground you in the process.

Everything unfolding now is part of a greater journey. To grow stronger, pay attention to life’s lessons. Whether you lean toward spirituality, religion, or simply what brings you joy, embrace what uplifts you this year. This could also mean leaning on your support system—those people whose wisdom and presence help guide you forward. Let their insights become a part of your strength.

PILE THREE

SENSITIVE TOPICS BELOW ! ↴

What's Happening In 2025? Queen of Swords, Nine of Swords [Reversed], The Devil.

Take this as an opportunity to care for yourself, to treat yourself with love and compassion, as well as believe in the process.

You may need to confront some inner struggles—fear, worry, or unresolved pain—but know that facing these emotions is part of healing. It's crucial to remember that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, or shame. On the contrary, it is an act of courage. Reaching out for support, whether from professionals, loved ones, or trusted resources, can provide clarity and guidance. Honest communication and a willingness to face the truth—however difficult—are vital steps in your journey.

At times, you may feel held back by attachment to an older version of yourself or by habits that no longer serve you. Letting go of this attachment is not easy, but it is necessary. You should not depend on the past or allow it to dictate your future. Progress comes when you take the steps yourself; no one else can do it for you. With effort and perseverance, you will leave behind desperation, rediscover your strength, and find a sense of calm and fulfillment within. Trust in your ability to move forward.

Extra! - Patience : Peaceful Presence, Letting Go of Desperation. - Man Holding A Heart : Male Dealing with Family, Love, or Emotions. - Queen : Radiates the regal feminine. Uses her benevolent authority to protect others. - Child — Magical : Seeing the potential sacred beauty in all things. The belief that everything is possible.

Again, you will find peace—trust in yourself and your ability to get there. Along this journey, a masculine figure in your life, whether romantic or not, may play a significant role in supporting and guiding you. This could be someone new entering your life or someone you already know who steps up.

If this doesn’t resonate, it could reflect your own growth—embracing both emotional and physical strength while balancing qualities often labeled as masculine or feminine. (Stereotypes aside, it’s about finding harmony within yourself.)

As you heal and learn to love yourself fully, this transformation will radiate outward, inspiring and uplifting those around you. I love you!

[blueiscoool]

Archaeologists Uncover Two Life-Size Statues Carved Into the Wall of a Tomb in Pompeii

The figures appear to represent a married couple. Experts think the woman, who is holding laurel leaves, may have been a priestess.

Two nearly life-size statues have been discovered inside a cemetery in Pompeii, the ancient Roman city destroyed by Mount Vesuvius’ eruption in 79 C.E. Experts think the figures are a funerary relief depicting a couple once buried at the site.

The statues adorn the wall of a tomb found in a necropolis near Porta Sarno, one of Pompeii’s city gates, according to a statement from Pompeii Archaeological Park. The cemetery is filled with cremation burials. Carved into the tomb’s wall are several niches that once held funerary urns, as well as a carved relief depicting a woman and man standing side by side.

As researchers write in the park’s digital magazine, the sculptures were likely carved during Rome’s Late Republican period (between the second and first century B.C.E.). Tombs of this kind are rare in southern Italy.

The researchers theorize that the funerary sculptures represent a married couple, though they say they can’t be certain. “This could be her husband, but it could also be her son,” Gabriel Zuchtriegel, director of the archaeological park, tells the Guardian’s Angela Giuffrida. “There was no inscription, so we don’t know.”

The male figure wears a simple toga, while the woman wears a large cloak over a tunic and many accessories. Her carved jewelry includes amphora-shaped earrings, a wedding ring, bracelets and a necklace with a lunula pendant (in the shape of a crescent moon). As the researchers write, Roman girls wore lunula amulets until marriage to protect themselves from evil.

In her right hand, the female figure holds laurel leaves, which Roman priestesses and priests once used to purify spaces. In her left hand, she holds a cylindrical container that may represent a scroll.

“She really looks like a very important woman in the local elite,” Zuchtriegel tells the Guardian. “There is also this idea that she could have been a priestess of Ceres, holding these plants and what appears to be a papyrus roll.”

Ceres is the Roman goddess of agriculture, fertility and motherhood. In Roman religion, she was symbolically connected to the moon, as its phases were thought to correspond with harvests, which could explain the female statue’s lunula pendant, per the journal.

“Since women in Roman society were commonly relegated to the domestic sphere and to the tasks of the Roman matron, being a priestess was the highest social rank to which a woman could aspire,” write the researchers.

As leaders of religious cults, priestesses “would have overseen rituals in temples and taken part in processions dedicated to Ceres,” Sophie Hay, a British archaeologist working at Pompeii, tells the Telegraph’s Nick Squires. “She was the goddess of agriculture and cereals but she was also associated with fertility and new life. She was widely revered.”

The funerary reliefs’ age and quality alone make them rare finds. However, the fact that the female figure may represent a priestess holding religious objects makes the discovery exceptional, as the researchers write. The statue also offers valuable insight into the religious practices of Pompeii’s ancient residents, providing new evidence that Ceres “has a clear place in the officially sanctioned religion in Pompeii, with a dedicated priestess.”

Later this month, the funerary reliefs will be displayed in an exhibition at the archaeological park called “Being a Woman in Ancient Pompeii.” Visitors will be able to observe as experts clean and conserve the sculpted figures.

By Sonja Anderson.

[melhyan]

"The fiery and the fanged: A Karlach/Astarion fanart"

Hey everyone! So, this is my very first time diving into Karlach/Astarion fanart from Baldur's Gate 3, and honestly… I’m still not sure how I feel about this piece 🥹. But hey, the vibes were just too good to resist!

Medium: This piece is a mix of watercolor on paper (yes, real brushes and water!), colored pencils, and some digital tweaks in Krita for the finishing touches. Let me tell you—getting the textures right on Karlach’s armor and Astarion’s outfit without smudging everything? THAT was an adventure in itself!😂

Karlach (our badass tiefling queen with a heart of gold) was such a joy to work on! The red hues were a challenge, though. Do you know how hard it is to find the perfect balance of demonic red without going full tomato?🍅 Her laugh here is totally her “live life to the fullest” energy, and I wanted that to shine through!

Astarion, on the other hand, was my comfort zone. His elegant, snarky vampire chic vibe let me go wild with the swirly embroidery on his tunic. (Also: white curls for DAYS, people! 😍)

Funny process note: The number of times I got Karlach’s horns and Astarion’s hands tangled up in the sketch phase? Embarrassing. Truly. If there’s an art god for tiefling horns and vampire hugs, I hope they forgive me.

I’d LOVE to hear what you think—does it capture the chaotic, unlikely friendship-turned-romance vibes of these two? Or is Astarion just too done with Karlach’s wholesomeness? (I mean, look at that hug—he’s a little into it, right? 🥺👉👈)

Also, PSA: my commissions are open! If you’d like something similar (or completely different—wild OC concepts, soft romance scenes, fantasy landscapes, you name it!), feel free to reach out!💌

[yan-lorkai]

I’m not sure if I can request this and I don’t know much about Halloween but I can totally imagine the first year gang starting a little pumpkin farm at Ramshackle. They’d carve pumpkins together and maybe sell some of them to earn a little pocket money

If it’s too much, no worries. just ignore this. Have a great day

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This is such a lovely idea tbh, now i kinda of want to do something like this with my friends aaaa. This was supposed to be posted at 6am as always and i forget to queue it lol. Anyway, enjoy it darling!

The Ramshackle Dorm had never been busier nor more vibrant than now. It all started with a simple idea from Ace: “Hey, why don’t we grow some pumpkins here?” he had said a sunny afternoon, eyes glinting with mischief as gestured to the dead garden of his dorm.

“We can carve them for Halloween, and maybe even sell a few. Easy money, right?” He turned to Epel, who, just as mischievously, nodded.

With a few enthusiastic nods from Jack and Deuce, the plan was set in motion. Soon, even Sebek, who had initially scoffed at the idea as "a frivolous waste of time," found himself secretly invested when Malleus found out and praised him for having a hobby with a bunch of friends.

Days turned into weeks, and the once dead, wild yard of the Ramshackle Dorm was transformed. The first-year gang tilled the soil, planted seeds, and tended to their patch diligently. They took turns watering the sprouts, pulling out weeds, and shooing away curious crows. It was hard work, but there was a certain joy in it.

Jack took special pride in watching the tiny green shoots grow into fat, round pumpkins, while Epel appreciated the physical labor - he said that in that way he could gain muscles. Ace and Deuce made it a game, challenging each other to see who could grow the biggest pumpkin, which led to much bickering and laughter.

The yard was filled with the warm, earthy scent of pumpkins, and the air was filled with laughter. Each carved pumpkin was a reflection of its creator, scattered around the steps and windows of Ramshackle, glowing with flickering candles as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As the pumpkins ripened, the dorm's front yard slowly turned into a sea of orange, each pumpkin unique in size and shape. On one particularly crisp afternoon, as Halloween approached, they gathered around to start carving. Carving tools in hand, they sat in a circle, some humming, others chatting about what designs they’d make.

Ace boasted that he would create the scariest face, while Deuce shyly admitted he wanted to make a pumpkin with a cute smile so he could take a photo and sent it to his mother. Epel’s was, of course, carved with incredible detai l— a miniature masterpiece of intricate patterns, as he was used to carve apples. Jack’s was simple and classic, just like him. And Sebek, determined to outshine the rest, carved an elaborate dragon that he claimed was a tribute to his master, Malleus.

“Not bad, huh?” Ace said, admiring their work. “I mean, I could probably sell mine for way more than any of yours, but still.” He smirked, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

“We’ll see about that,” You shot back, wiping your hands on your overalls. “Who wouldn’t want to buy one of mine?”

Throughout the day, the first-years ran the stand, chatting with students and selling their carved pumpkins. Sebek was surprisingly the best salesperson, his loud voice catching everyone’s attention and his pride making each pumpkin sound like a royal treasure. Epel made sure every customer left with a smile, slipping them a little extra vine or a perfect pumpkin seed as a token. Even Grim, though not directly involved in the growing process, found himself helping out, lured by the promise of sharing in the profits.

With their pumpkins carved, the group turned to the next phase of their plan. They set up a small stand by the gate, decorating it with the leftover vines and smaller pumpkins. A hand-painted sign read, "Pumpkins for Sale! Buy 1, Get 1 Free (if you can guess who carved it)!" It was Ace’s idea, of course, to add a little game to attract more customers. They were soon joined by curious students from other dorms, many who had heard about the little farm project and wanted to see the fruits (or rather, gourds) of their labor.

You still were surprised that their idea really attracted people. Even Sam was there, examining the pumpkins.

By the end of the evening, the pumpkin patch looked a bit emptier, but your pockets were a little heavier. All of you were tired, but it was the good kind of tired, where your cheeks hurt from smiling and your muscles ache in a satisfying way. As you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle, trapped between Deuce and Ace, watching the last of the daylight fade, there was a warm sense of accomplishment between them.

“This was a good idea,” Jack said, breaking the comfortable silence. “We should do it again next year.”

“Yeah,” Epel said, stretching out his arms. “Maybe we’ll even beat the big guys at their own game. Imagine if this little patch becomes the talk of Halloween.”

"What if other dorms try to do something like this, though?" You asked them.

You had so much fun those past few months, working at their side after clubs ended and the homework was made. You laughed, you chased them when they teamed up to tease you. Overall, it was the most fun you had since coming to this world.

Ace, who was using your left shoulder as a pillow, leaned up so he could see your eyes. "If this happens..." he looked at the other boys before catching your eyes again. "Then we'll crush them, no doubt."

"Figuratively speaking, right?"

Deuce smiled spread through his face as Epel laughed and Sebek and Jack tried to hide their face from you.

"Yeah... Figuratively speaking, of course, Prefect."

The others nodded, their eyes bright with ideas about what to do if the other students tried to do something like that.

As the night settled in, the carved pumpkins flickered warmly, casting playful shadows across the yard. And you felt as if, for just a moment, like you were back home with your small, happy family — gathered around a shared project, their laughter and camaraderie filling the air with something brighter than any candle could provide.

If you were here the next year, then you wanted to do the same thing with them again. And if you aren't... You wanted them to continue that little tradition.

[thefishywizard]

I'm so curious about your MCD rewrite/AU so sorry if this is long-

How old is everyone before the timeskip? Who gave Zane the amulet if Kawaii~chan didn't want to help him with that? What's the in-lore reason that Laurence is Shad's.. decendent..thingy...? Can all of the Divine Warriors reincarnations(Garroth,Aph,Laurence,etc) talk to the people who turned into relics? Or is that just an Alina thing?

again sorry for the long ask :(

Haha! Oh boy you think that ask was long? Buddy, I basically wrote you an essay. Buckle up.

(Linking to a separate post on my alt that has all ages for s1 on it since otherwise it'll make this post far too long)

First off! KC is taking Brian's place as traitor, not Garroths. So KC is the one leaking info to Zane, not the one stealing the amulet from Laurance. (Also unlike Brian she's not kidnapping nicole or opening the gate.)

On that note, Garroth doesn't betray everyone because of jealousy, he would be early into his relationship with laurance and aphmau by this point so seeing them kissing in the woods wouldn't phase him, even if it wasn't out of character. Garroth DOES work with Zane. However, it's out of a misguided attempt to defend the village and his lovers. "Lord Aphmau's optimism is encouraging, sure, but she doesn't know what O'Khasis will do. She's an untrained nobody who's had a lucky streak, and she's naively leading the village to the slaughter. Just help me with this one ensy wensy favor, dear brother. I just need a little trinket your fellow guard his holding for safe keeping. Give me that, and I'll leave your little village and your... ugh, "partners" alone." Garroth importantly doesn't sequester himself away in his quarters. He's acting necrotic, jumpy. He's not sleeping, and he's checking and rechecking defenses in preparation. He's visibly running himself ragged in an attempt to justify phonix drop being able to defend against an O'Khasis invasion, but he just can't. Because in Malachi's castle, this was his greatest fear. that by entrusting aphmau as lord he doomed the village, that her optimism and helpful nature would not be enough and she would lead to the villages destruction. That him running away from his fate would eventually catch up to him and O'Khasis would destroy anything in its path to apprehend him. Aphmau and Laurace will not agree to allow Garroth to sacrifice himself, and Truthfully, Garroth doesn't want to. But O'Khasis will eat them alive. Surly, this is the answer? One favor for his brother, and everyone he loves can live in peace. Fear of losing everything can lead people to doing things they regret.

Laurance is actually NOT Shads decendent. Because... Shad doesn't have any. Alina was his only child, and after she died, he was too wracked with grief to think about having more children. But what Laurance IS is Shads vessel. Laurance spent MONTHS in the nether being tortured. There's no way the process of turning into a shadow knight took that long. He was being prepped as a host. Shad can only do so much with corpses, and Laurace not only entered the nether as an alive, able bodied skilled guard. But also a companion of the woman who is really similar to his ex-wife (irene). Laurance is functionally the PERFECT host, BUT... ungrth rescued him before the process could be completed. A massive loss after coming SO CLOSE. But the calling always brings them back, it's only a matter of time before laurance crumbles to the urge ans returns to the nether and into Shads waiting clutches. (I'm thinkin laurance has these like, intricate brands on his back to allow shad entry and control. He and aphmau might work with emmalyn, Vylad and Zenix to try and figure out what they are. (Irene probably already knows) but even if they do figure it out the calling is too strong and he enters the nether to protect aphmau and garroth at the cost of his free will.)

Yes, everyone with a relic can speak with the person the relic was made from. (Irene's relic is a little different because it wasn't made at the cost of her life, so if someone else held the relic they would not be able to speak to her but because aphmau IS her, she can. And she talks to her even before picking up irenes relic.) But here's who they would get to talk to based on the relic

Shads relic: Alina (basically Liliths sister now.)

Esmunds relic: his younger brother (reminds Garroth of Zane)

Menphias relic: her good friend (reminds Katelyn of Jeffory)

Enkis relic: his mother (reminds Travis of his mom)

Kul'zaks relic: his father (reminds Vylad of Garte)

Were these specifically designed to cause the most psychic damage to the new relic holders? Yes.

Also never apologize for a long ask again i love to yap.

[notepunk]

CASTING CALL!!!!

Art by cutetanuki-chan I and some others are are working on an Audio Adaptation of the Amphibia Swap AU fic "A Witch in Wartwood," by the lovely Discet. This fic answers the question, "What would happen if Marcy landed in Wartwood instead of Anne?" and it expands on Amphibia's lore, characters, and relationships.

This adaptation will feature a full voice cast, including narration, a custom soundtrack, and sound effects. Right now, we are in a "proof of concept" phase, where we are adapting just one scene from the fic--we chose AWIW 8: "Sasha at the Gates". It's a short-term endeavor to help the team figure out their production process and to help generate some interest in the broader project.

We need three voice roles:

Ben Spar (an extra that is interrogated by Sasha),

Sasha Waybright, and

General Yunan: Scourge of the Sand Wars, defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of general in the great Newtopian Army!

These roles are all relatively low commitment, and you will not be expected to continue in these roles for the whole project. Also, since this is purely a passion project (and we don't want to be on the Mouse's bad side), all work on the project will be unpaid.

If you're interested, you can apply using the provided form. We will be requiring an email address. https://forms.gle/f95Fx8y3D1sEACRZ8 Reblogs appreciated: help us get the word out!

[accountability-movement]

You Are Not a Person to Them. You Are Cattle.

The coup is not coming. It is happening now. We are living through it. But to the people with the power—JD Vance, Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, and the rest of their billionaire handlers—you are not a citizen. You are livestock.

Your purpose in their system is simple: to serve, to work, to obey, and to die when you are no longer useful.

This is not democracy. It is not “reform.” It is not a debate. It is a system for control, and it is already being implemented.

The Slaughter Process

Remove Your Ability to Resist.

Stack the courts. Gut elections. Rewrite laws. Fire political opponents. You cannot fight back through the system, because the system no longer belongs to you.

Sort the Population.

Are you profitable? You will be allowed to work, but under increasing restrictions.

Are you a liability? You will be pushed out, made unemployable, or imprisoned.

Are you a threat? You will be eliminated.

Redefine Humanity.

People like JD Vance and Donald Trump Jr have already shown support for a book titled "Unhumans", which categorizes people on the right as “Humans” and those on the left as “Unhumans.”

If you are trans, disabled, queer, an immigrant, the wrong race, or politically noncompliant—you are Unhuman. And Unhumans do not have rights.

The Cleanup Begins.

Internment camps are being expanded. Facilities in Guantánamo Bay are already under construction. The next phase includes “wellness camps” for anyone who does not align with the new system.

Policies and erasures of trans and intersex people are on the table, and align with Nazi Eugenics. Project 2025 explicitly outlines the state’s power to control who lives and who dies.

Discussions about “ethnic cleansing” in Gaza are happening. Officials in the administration are openly considering policies that would have been unthinkable a few years ago.

This is fascism with better branding. Yarvin calls it the Dark Enlightenment. Vance calls it necessary reform. But history recognizes this for what it is. The Nazis did not start with gas chambers. They started by convincing the public that some people weren’t people at all.

You are not meant to see this happening. You are meant to stay comfortable and pacified while the gates close around you. But if you are reading this, then you still have time to wake up.

This is not a drill. This is not a warning. This is the process. You are inside it. And you need to decide right now whether you are going to let it happen.

[katyspersonal]

I need to share this information with someone because its a huge revelation and it drives me insane that this fanbase is still peddling the lie that there was a cut ending for SOTE. Okay, here goes - demoncorejr on Bluesky, I am not affiliated, made an interesting post about the original design of the Divine Gate which includes a possible answer for the lost cutscene of Miquella at the end of the first SOTE trailer. I implore you to read their full post, it is some excellent datamining.

This, combined with the cut Miquella dialogue where he is still addressing Radhan, leads me to fully believe that this cutscene was just an early draft of the phase 2 cutscene of him stepping out of the gate - not an ending where he was going to 'unveil' the Land of Shadow, which would have been impossible to implement into the base game technically anyway, given how huge the Land of Shadow is!

Would love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

ENDING WHERE MIQUELLA WOULD "UNVEIL" THE LAND OF SHADOW WAS NEVER MEANT TO EXIST AS REVEALED BY A DATAMINER!!!

Lol sorry I NEEDED a header to pique the interest of all 6 of you who are reading fdsjfhsd Anon, thank you for bringing this to my attention, because I already did have a thought that maybe the scene with Miquella reaching for the Scadutree was just one of the angles of him stepping out of the gate!!! I did not address it because I wondered if it was overthinking, but seems like I should have trusted my hunch? XD

Okay so, here is the thread in question:

This was an interesting read, so here are some core points I want to reshare as thread is a bit long:

1) The original draft of the Divine Gate was appearing to look very bloody and rotting, just like it looked in the SOTE promo trailer where Marika pulled some golden strings out from it:

Here images themselves, for closer look:

2) The arena was ALSO going to be rather "liquid", full of blood/rotted waters/whatever!

3) The initial intent is also still there in some ways; according to KERA, the initial textures were tweaked to have that pale, petrified, "sandy" look to them, to fit the surroundings. Including two screenshots because it is a video file on Bluesky of moving a slider and idk how to reshare it:

The second, very brown one, is correct colors of this texture, and the first screenshot is a tweak, not actual way this texture is intended to be!

I needed to reshare the key points from the thread and paraphrase, but yeah guys, read the whole thing, it is very insightful! So yeah, you can really see how initially they intended to keep the Divine Gates the same as it was shown in the trailer:

4) There is still effect for the corpses attached to the gate to bleed:

So that brings us to the question: how does it prove that a different Miquella's ending was never a thing?

5) The Miquella's cutscene seen in the trailer was cropped due to artistic changes of what the DIVINE GATE looked like, not plot changes!

They could not show him stepping into a bloody and decaying arena anymore, because.... it was no longer bloody and decaying! THIS was the change!

ok sorry I will stop with the Big Text lol

But yes, I am absolutely convinced that they've removed it over this reason! As for why the Divine Gate changed, I am not sure? I think maybe it would thematically fit more that Marika "killed" it when she pulled the golden strings from it? Or artistically it would not feel right if Miquella came out of a very "dirty" and bloody spot all perfectly clean and devoid of all "filth", so the gate had to look very polished and clean for the lack of better term?

I've also mentioned that I thought so myself, and after your ask, I finally remembered why:

(Start from 2:20) In this video, the creator does point out it simply looks like the essentially same cutscene, but from another angle and, well, with different arena!

You also can see the map further changed, like this tower appearing!

So, yeah, when I saw that video it felt legit, but not convincing enough, yet the thread you shared was a life-savior!!

I also do agree that it was obvious from the start that an extra ending with Miquella would never happen, unveiling Shadow Land or not! Miyazaki said RIGHT after the trailer dropped in the interview, that SOTE would not have an impact on the base game!

(From this ( x ) page)

The effects of "unveiling" the Land of Shadow would be so drastic that there would be no way to preserve the base game map with the changes. It would straight up jump into a new ending... that was confirmed to not happen!

[fidgetspringer-art]

Equestrian AU part 4 A discovery is made. Noah does not take it well.

The next morning, Martin repeats the steps he’d followed the day before. Except this time, when the horses (led by Tansy once again), follow him up to the gate, he doesn’t stop to shut it until Tansy has followed him out of it. She looks a little confused at being on the outside of the fence, with the rest of her new buddies on the inside, but she doesn’t seem anxious. When Martin walks off towards the barn, Tansy follows.

Casey is sitting out on the front steps when he comes past, and she grins at him. “Look at her!” She cheers. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Haven’t gotten a halter on her.” He doesn’t dare be too optimistic yet. They’re moving in the right direction, but it’s likely that the halter will be a bigger hurdle. “But I reckon you can go ahead and call Abigail. Set up that appointment.”

Casey gives him a thumbs up, already in the process of digging her phone out of her pocket. “Today or tomorrow?”

Martin stops, watching Tansy do the same a few steps behind him. She’s curious about everything, but so far she hasn’t seemed overly spooked at all. That screaming, frantic monster of a horse from the other day is nowhere to be seen. “Tomorrow might be safer.”

“I’ll have her come over this evening, we could do dinner, and if Miss Tansy will allow we can get her checked out then. If not Abby will be happy to come back tomorrow to try again.”

Martin nods. The perks of your vet being married to your manager he supposes. “Sounds good.”

he spends the rest of the day doing his usual chores, mucking out and feeding, both the horses and the other animals.

Tansy shadows him the whole time. She takes a minute to follow him into the barn, not too trusting of the dark space within, but it’s obvious that she’s fairly used to going to lots of new places. Very little phases her overall, and when she is unsure about something she meets it with curiosity before fear.

It’s surprising. How level headed she is, when the picture that had been painted of her before meeting her was that of a fire breathing dragon.

Martin walks back into the barn after dropping off some fresh hay with the two other client horses, which Tansy had very loudly and excitedly greeted over the fence, and this time he intentionally walks down through the cross ties and out the door at the end of the barn.

Tansy follows.

Martin turns and walks back through. Then he stops halfway and takes the halter off his shoulder.

Tansy watches him. Ears perked.

He lifts the halter, hand outstretched towards her. The mare doesn’t budge. Huh.

He walks up to her, half expecting her to step away. But she stays where she is, bending her neck to sniff his pockets when he stands next to her, halter touching the side of her neck. “Good girl, Tansy.”

He takes the halter away from her and replaces it with a treat.

The next time he touches the halter to the side of her head. She immediately starts looking for her reward. “You’re smart, huh?”

It doesn’t take many rounds of this before Martin feels confident enough to slip the rope halter up onto her nose and over her ears. Tansy doesn’t try to flee. She just nods her head a bit, begging for a piece of carrot. Martin ties the halter off. He feels a bit silly now. For making this problem seem so much bigger than it was.

He likely let Noah get under his skin. Let himself forget that this is what he’s good at, that he’s spent his whole life learning to understand horses. And here Tansy has been, telling him she’s been ready for the next step all day. Yet he hadn’t seen it until now.

“I’m a stupid old man, aren’t I, girl?” He gives her neck a scratch. “Let's go for a walk, before we leave it for today.”

That evening Abigail arrives. She’s clearly just come off a call. She’s dressed in her barn clothes, just as dusty and covered in bits of straw as Martin is.

Her dogs come pouring out of the front seat of her car when she climbs out. The terriers go racing off across the property, off to hunt down some mice, no doubt.

“Evening, Martin.” She smiles as he comes up to meet her. “Had any luck with my next patient?” Casey must have given her a rundown of the situation.

“Got a halter on her earlier. No drama.”

Abigail hands over a shopping bag full of bottles and cans. It’s gonna be one of those dinners, apparently. “That’s good. You want me to look at her before we get started with the food?”

Martin has already thought it over. “Nah. We’ll wait until tomorrow, give her a moment to process today.” He lets Abigail in through the front door. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Abigail kicks her boots off in her usual spot and hangs her jacket next to Casey’s. “Of course not. I’ve got the day off, well, mostly. I’ll come look at her.”

“Why don’t you both spend the night, then? Looks like you aren’t driving anywhere any time soon after all.” He lifts the shopping bag pointedly.

The two of them stay over pretty often as it is. Both of them have spare clothes put away in the guest room, or mostly Casey does, for when she’s helping out with youth camps and the like, but Abby has some of her own clothes here too. It’s always nice to have someone else in the house.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They spend the evening out on the patio at the back of the house, eating steak that Martin had saved for an evening just like this one, talking about all kinds of things that don’t really matter.

The dogs turn up at some point, and Martin ends up in a rocking chair with a lap full of sleeping terrier. He’s nudged awake at some point by a giggling Casey, telling him it’s time for bed.

The next day when Martin calls the horses, Tansy follows them all the way up to the gate. Though when he tries to lift the halter off his shoulder, she back up and trots away. Not quite ready for that, then.

He puts the halter back where it had been and focuses on the other horses instead, and it doesn’t take long before Tansy finds her way back to the front of the herd to beg for more treats.

Instead of trying to get the halter on her again, Martin opens the gate and gestures for her to come through it. She seems to remember their little game from yesterday, and she happily steps out so he can shut it behind her. Once again she trails after him while he feeds and tidies up around the farm. He stops at one point and without making a big fuss about it, slips the rope halter over her head and throws the rope over her back. She allows him to do it just like she had yesterday. No drama.

Casey and Abigail are sleeping in late after the night they had, but since Martin rose with the sun like he always does, he’s got some time now to work with Tansy before her vet check.

He spends that time in the barn, by the cross-ties.

He opts to just sling the lead rope over one of the stall doors instead of tying her up properly. He still doesn’t know how she does with being tied, though he suspects she’ll be just fine with it. Still, he doesn’t want to make her feel claustrophobic and risk ruining what trust he’s built with the halter.

The first thing he notices is that she’s fidgety.

She spends the first little while exploring the stall door in front of her with her nose, touching every inch of it. Then she cranes her neck to stick her head into the stall to sniff around in there too. That done, she starts turning, trying to keep Martin within her sights, curious to watch whatever he’s doing.

He’d wanted to see how she would do if he just left her alone, and the answer is that she’s fine, just bored.

In the end she figures out that the rope isn’t actually tied to anything, and she comes padding after him when Martin goes to fetch his brushes.

He leaves her standing free in the aisle while he brushes her down, and while she sometimes moves to go investigate something that’s caught her attention, she mostly stays put.

She’s not at all opposed to being brushed and touched in this context. She isn’t overly stressed or impatient, and she’s not scared in any way.

Martin thinks back to the rundown he’d gotten about Tansy’s issues. High stress levels, poor impulse control, spooky and at times aggressive. Though most of her issues come to the surface under saddle.

For now, just changing her environment has been enough to see a significant change in her, but Martin knows this is only the beginning. She might be thriving under these specific conditions, but this isn’t her real life. Finding a solution that will work for her in the long run will be another matter entirely.

While he’s standing there, watching Tansy sniff at a clump of her own fur that Martin has just brushed off her, he catches the movement of the barn door behind her back as it’s swung shut by the wind. Hard.

He’s bracing himself for Tansy’s explosive reaction before the sound even hits them. The bang rings out like a gunshot, loud enough to make even Martin’s heart leap in his chest.

But there is no flurry of hooves or a half ton animal barreling into him.

Tansy hasn’t taken her nose off the floor, where she’s now licking the dust like there might be stray bits of grain hiding somewhere.

Martin blinks. Well shit. “Tansy.” He raises his voice, just a little. No reaction. “Hey!” He barks it as loud as he dares. Her ears stay forward, focused on her task. “Ah hell.”

Abigail checks the mare over, top to bottom.

They trot her up and bend her legs every which way to check for any sign of lameness. Nothing. Her vitals are all normal and while she complains a little when Abigail pokes and prods and pulls at her to check for any sore spots, they both agree it’s just because she’s not keen on the handling, and not because she’s in pain.

Martin trusts Abby’s judgment more than he does anyone else, so when she declares Tansy healthy and pain free, he knows that she’s right.

That just leaves the matter of her hearing.

Abigail doesn’t even need any fancy equipment to tell him the mare is stone deaf.

“That’s not ideal.” Casey sighs. “I’ll call the owner, let him know what we’ve found.”

Martin stops her. “He’ll be by tomorrow, I’ll tell him then.”

She doesn’t argue. It’ll be best to tell him in person anyway. Hearing this won’t be easy, and Martin would be lying if he said he wouldn’t rather let Casey take the brunt of his reaction, but telling him over the phone isn’t fair.

Martin takes Tansy for a walk around the property before he puts her back for the day. It’s hard to believe this is the same mare that had been dropped off less than a week ago. She follows Martin around like a puppy, so content to just exist that if Martin had only ever seen this side of her he never would have guesses the headache she’s caused her owner.

It makes him wonder if there’s something more to this that he isn’t seeing. He’s missing a piece of the puzzle, but he has a feeling that finding it is going to be easier said than done.

Noah turns up the next day, when Martin is weeding the flowerbeds by the front steps.

The truck pulls into the lot behind him, trailer attached, and out climbs a familiar, scowling face, though his eyes are covered by sunglasses today.

“No luck, then I take it?” The tone of his voice grates on Martin’s nerves.

He saunters over, hands in his pockets. “Knew you wouldn’t be able to fix her. Don’t know why I bothered, should have found a real trainer instead.” He steps closer with a scoff. “Waste of my fucking time.” He spits, standing over Martin where he’s still on his knees, looking down at him like he’s nothing.

Martin is surprised by the way it makes his blood boil.

He’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing, and he doesn’t catch up to his own actions before he’s got Noah by the collar of his shirt, slammed back against the side of his truck.

“You’re lucky I don’t believe in beating sense into spoiled little brats like you.” He makes sure to get in Noah’s face. “I don’t have to take this crap from you, but I will, because I give a damn about your saint of a horse.”

Noah opens his mouth to talk back, but Martin shuts him up by shaking him, just enough to have his head drop back against the car, throat bared and sunglasses crooked on his nose. Martin hates how good he looks like this.

“Take her with you if you want. But know that you’ll be the one who's ruined what progress she’s made.”

“What progress?” Noah hisses. His hands have come up to hold Martin’s wrists now in a feeble attempt to pry him loose. “You haven’t even caught her!”

Martin hauls Noah off the truck and turns him. Forcing him to look in the direction of a small patch of grass by the corner of the house.

Where Tansy is grazing quietly.

“What-”

Martin lets him go. Tries to not stare at the way his ridiculous polo shirt is all wrinkled and out of place from his fist. There’s dirt smeared into the pale fabric too, in the shape of his fingers. Christ. He needs to get his head checked.

“We’re gardening.” He says. Stupidly.

Noah turns to look at him like he’s insane. Maybe he is.

Noah settles down a little after that.

The shock on his face remains long after Martin takes him over to say hello to his horse, which Tansy responds to with surprising excitement. It’s almost like she’s missed him.

She lets Noah wrap his arms around her sturdy neck, and she noses at his face until she succeeds in knocking the sunglasses off his face. Noah’s stunned stiffness wears off gradually, and soon he’s smiling at his mare’s antics. “What have you done with her? How is she this calm.”

Martin just watches them, helplessly endeared by how gentle Noah is with her, despite Tansy being nowhere near fragile. “Not much. Just gave her some space and let her make her own choices.”

“And that’s all it took?”

“That’s all it took.” Martin nods. “But this is far from the fix you’re hoping it is. She’s thriving now, but she still has her triggers that need working through. From what I understand most of those turn up under saddle, correct?”

Noah sighs. “Yup.”

There’s a pause, while Martin gathers up the courage to say what he has to. “There’s one other thing, that I think you should know.”

Noah looks over, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Tansy is back to grazing now. Head down and ears relaxed. “Watch her ears.” When Noah finally obeys, Martin whistles, sharp and loud enough that Noah startles beside him. Tansy doesn’t react.

Noah’s eyes go wide suddenly, as the pieces connect. He does what Martin has just done and whistles. Still nothing. His shoulders drop. “You mean-”

Martin nods. “She’s deaf. I’m sorry.”

Noah doesn’t say anything, he just takes the few steps over to the bench set against the side of the house and sinks down onto it, head in his hands. “Shit.” He exhales. “So that explains it, then. Why she is the way she is?”

Martin takes a risk and sits down beside him. “It’s part of the problem, sure. But I think there’s more to it. Something I’m not seeing.” He nods in Tansy’s direction. “Look at her. She’s not anxious, or stressed, or easily spooked. If anything I’d say her being deaf is part of that too, part of why she’s so at ease.” He watches her rhythmically rip tufts of grass in half. “There has to be more to this.”

Noah has gone uncharacteristically quiet. Martin wonders what he’s thinking right now. If he’s connecting dots that Martin hasn’t yet. “I can’t believe I never noticed.”

“Easy enough to miss. She acts normal for the most part.” he doesn’t blame Noah for not seeing it before. It’s not the first time he’s heard of horses that have been found to be deaf or even blind to some degree until well into their adult lives. “They’re good at adapting. Good at hiding it.”

“What do I do now, then? This is it, isn’t it. I’ll have to retire her.” He sounds so heartbroken at the prospect that Martin feels for him, he really does.

“Not necessarily. I think if we can work her through the rest of her issues, the two of you can figure out a way to make this work. Odds are she just needs different cues from you to help guide her.” Which leads him to the next part of his plan. “I need to see her under saddle to get a better idea of what’s setting her off. If you’ve got time we can-”

Noah is up out of his seat in a flash. “I can’t. Not to day, I’ve got- I’m busy.” he rounds the corner of the house without giving Tansy so much as a pat goodbye.

Martin follows, a little taken aback. “That’s alright. Just stop by when you have time, I’ll keep doing what I have been doing. But I really do need to see her under saddle before we take any more steps.”

Noah is nodding. He shoves his sunglasses back down over his eyes. “Yeah whatever. I’ll stop by, later.”

He doesn’t even say goodbye before he’s slamming the door of his truck shut and taking off, turning his trailer around and disappearing down the road. Not the reaction he’d been expecting, but he’s not entirely sure if this is a good or a bad outcome. Time will tell, he supposes.

It doesn't take long for it to become apparent, however. Martin is in the kitchen when there’s a knock at the front door.

It’s a Sunday, so he’s alone on the farm, and he’s not expecting anyone. Least of all a sheepish looking Gabriel Warren on his doorstep.

Noah’s truck sits behind him. Trailer on the back of it, once again. Martin’s stomach drops at the sight of it.

“Can we talk?” Gabriel says, his smile is worn thin.

Martin steps aside, gesturing for him to come inside. “Go on then. I was just about to set the table.”

Gabriel kicks his boots off by the door. “Thanks but I don’t need anything, I’ll be quick, I just wanted to get something off my chest.”

The whole house smells like chicken soup, and despite Gabriel’s refusal, Martin ladles him a bowl along with his own. “Sit.”

They eat in tense silence for a while, before Gabriel finally speaks up. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think Noah is making a mistake in terminating the contract, so I’m going to tell you anyways.”

Martin doesn’t say anything, just lets Gabriel carry on.

So he is here for Tansy then. Figures Noah would throw in the towel at the slightest sign of a challenge.

“Noah hasn’t gotten back in the saddle since his accident.” He says, which is not the direction Martin thought this conversation was going to take.

“He spent a few days in the hospital. Was all eager to get out so he could go back to riding. But then when he was finally discharged and given the all clear, he just, didn’t.” Gabriel pushes a piece of potato around his bowl. “Kept making excuses, anything to get out of it, or to change the subject. Tansy has sat in a paddock ever since. It’s been almost a year now.” he shrugs. “I just thought you should know. This is why Noah is acting skittish all of a sudden. It’s not anything you’ve done.”

This complicates things. But it’s valuable information. Information that Martin wishes he’d had from the start. Maybe Noah has a bigger role in this than he would have liked.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. If you’re here for the horse.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “Like I said, I think Noah is making a mistake. I don’t think he’s thinking clearly.” That much is obvious. “If you’re on board, I’d like to see if I can change his mind before we take any drastic measures.”

“Think you can pull that off?” Martin is doubtful. Noah seems the emotional and impulsive type that’s hard to get through to once he’s made up his mind about something.

“I’m going to try.” Gabriel says, finally looking a little more at ease now that Martin seems to be willing to give them another chance. “Worst case scenario, Noah can come pick Tansy up himself, cause I’m not doing it for him. Maybe you can make him see reason, if I can’t.”

Martin snorts. “I don’t think there’s so much as a shred of reason in that kid.”

Gabriel chuckles at that. He shakes his head fondly. “No, you might be right about that.”

With dinner and their conversation wrapped up, Gabriel takes off, trailer leaving empty for the third time in a week. The two of them have bought Tansy a little more time, if nothing else, and if he’s lucky, Gabriel will be able to make Noah understand that terminating the contract now won’t do anyone any good.

He spends the rest of the day down in the pasture with the horses, enjoying his day off with his herd grazing around him. Tansy practically in his pocket the whole time.

Martin and Tansy get two more good days before the rumble of an engine and the rattle of a trailer makes Martin’s stomach twist.

He’s in a corral, working with the last client horse that’s due to leave tomorrow. And from here he can just barely make out the shape and color of the car that’s just pulled in. it’s Noah’s. Because of course it is. “Sorry bud. Be back in a sec.”

Noah is flinging a halter and lead rope onto his shoulder when Martin walks up.

“Noah.” He makes sure it sounds like the warning it is.

“Where is she?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer before he’s striding off down towards the pasture.

“Don’t do this.” Martin knows it’s a lost cause, but he has to try. “We can fix this. C’mon, we can talk it through inside.”

Noah ignores him.

“Noah, wait!”

He’s rounding the corner of the barn now, the horses come into view in the field below. Martin feels the fragile grasp on his self control snap like a frayed thread. “I said wait.” He grabs Noah by the shirt and, in a mirror of that day by the truck, he pins him to the wall, Martin’s arm across his chest.

“I know you’re scared.”

Noah’s eyes turn frigid. “You don’t know shit!” He struggles. “Let me go!”

Martin doesn’t budge. “Gabriel told me everything.” He gives the words a moment to sink in. “Are you going to give up on her, just because you’re a fucking coward, or are you going to man up and let me help you?”

Noah stares at him. Eyes wide with something that Martin can’t quite place. Fear, maybe, but there’s something else, too. He looks down at Tansy. The entire herd have their ears pricked in their direction, all except one.

“She’s not a lost cause, Noah.”

He bares his teeth. “No, but I am.” He sounds like he hates himself for admitting it. “I’m retiring. She’s going up for sale in the morning. I can’t do this.”

Martin’s heart breaks for him. The tears brimming in his eyes make him look so young, so small, like all that attitude really was just for show. A facade to hide just how torn apart he is underneath.

“You can.” He eases up a little, not letting Noah go, but letting him breathe at least. “You’re not a lost cause either.” He can’t believe he’s saying this. “Let me help you.”

Noah chuckles wetly. “You fix horses, Martin. Not humans.” He looks so resigned. Like he’s already given up.

“Sometimes the only way to fix the horse, is to fix the human too.” Martin gives in and wipes the single tear off of Noah’s face with his thumb. “I think this has cleared something up for me, about why Tansy is the way that she is. And I think that what you need, is to learn how to help each other.”

Noah looks up at him, eyes red and wet, same as his cheeks. “How do we do that, then?”

“First, we go inside, and we talk. Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. Alright.”

[Part 3 here]

[raineandsky]

#133

Fourteen years ago, the hero—barely twelve years old and several years from considering being a hero—knocked on their neighbour’s door with their basket in hand and the smile of a kid about to eat their weight in sweets on their face.

The door was barely open before the hero was shouting, “Trick or treat!”

“Oh!” their neighbour exclaimed as she opened the door. “What’re you dressed as, hon?”

The hero pouted dramatically. This was the question they’d been answering all night—how could no one see it? “I’m [Superhero].”

Their neighbour laughed and produced a bowl of sweets, the wrappers glittering like gold under the porch light. “Of course you are! Well, take your pick, [Superhero].”

The temptation to dig their entire hand into that delicious ocean of chocolate was almost irresistible. The hero swiped the top sweet to push that temptation down, not even looking at what it was before dropping it into their own basket. “Thanks!”

Their neighbour said her goodbyes as the hero hopped back down onto the path, letting themself out the gate and heading for the next house.

A flicker of white moved in the bushes next to the hero. Their gaze snapped to the side, scanning through the leaves for the culprit. Then, like a mist of horror and death, a ghost drifted straight through the bushes towards them.

The hero yelped, shaking several sweets from their basket as they leapt back. It hovered just in front of them, the sheet over its head floating slightly, eye-holes cut in to show the hero their distant gaze.

A real, actual ghost. Fear gripped their throat and glued their feet to the ground. No, think—what would the superhero do?

They cleared their throat, putting on the bravest face they could, and said, “Nice costume.”

The ghost didn’t respond. It simply stared at them with dead, far-off eyes. An actor, the hero decided. It’s not real. Just someone that’s really embodying the spirit of Halloween.

They tried a smile that probably looked more pained than they’d hoped. “Super realistic,” they continued into the quiet. “Did you make it yourself?”

The hero reached out to run a hand over the bottom of the ghost’s sheet, only to find their fingers phased straight through it. They paused for a moment, staring wide-eyed at their hand passing right through this supposedly solid object, before hurriedly pulling it back.

“Whoa,” the hero whispered. “Are… are you, like… dead?”

The ghost said nothing. It only continued to stare at them. The sheet floated around them like the hero hadn’t ever disturbed it.

“Um. Okay.” The hero shuffled nervously, glancing at their destination down the street. “Very cool. See you ‘round, anyway.”

They casually wandered to the next house along. They glanced over their shoulder at the gate and, seeing that the ghost was gone, swiftly abandoned their sweet hunt and ran all the way home.

-

“On Clarence Street?” the hero asks indignantly. “Fourteen years ago? That was you?”

The villain laughs brightly from where the hero has hastily tied them to a desk chair. “And you were the one dressed like [Superhero]? The only kid I couldn’t scare the chocolate out of? Oh, this rivalry was destined.”

The hero can feel their face scrunching up in annoyance. The whole process of seeing a ghost, researching the paranormal, feeling bad that someone was lingering after death, wanting to shape a world people could leave peacefully, taking on heroism in their career. All their life decisions had sprouted from that one moment when they were twelve, and it was the villain’s goddamn fault.

The hero takes a step back to resist the urge to punch them. “How’d you do it?”

“Projector.” The villain looks particularly proud, like they’re explaining how their most recent invention works. “It was one of the first real evil things I planned myself. I think it was the start of my career, that night.”

The hero scowls. “Makes two of us.”

“Be honest,” the villain starts with a grin, “did I getcha?”

The scowl only deepens. The hero doesn’t like the truth, but they’re not a liar. “A bit.”

Another laugh, entirely too proud of the stunt they pulled off over a decade ago. “Happy Halloween, [Superhero].”

[j-l-kepler]

BG3 In-game Models vs How I Draw Them

def late for this neat blink-and-you'll-miss-it trend, but whatever, work keeps me too busy to draw for myself these days and imma do whatever i want yippeeeeee

i'm definitely going to have to start this save AGAIN when patch 8 inevitably obliterates all of my saves due to corrupting my mods again but c'est la vie, the world's slowest and laziest gamer will eventually beat this goddamn game. and i will do it with my 3-man no-starter-companions run!!!!

also everybody please acknowledge Bagel the Crow

please

character descriptions below if ya interested

i know those who know of my tavs prefer the markolac twins but this is my current fave save (i'm even writing a way-too-lengthy novelization of the playthrough focusing on their perspectives). In order I've got:

Dark Urge - Dark Urge character (duh), Dragonborn Storm Sorcerer Though he calls himself the Dark Urge, Briar calls him Whitey while Dyven calls him Frostbite. He's stoic and rather withdrawn, but well-spoken with quietly expensive tastes. He says very little, but what he does say can be a little pretentious and surprisingly verbose. As expected, he's quick to annoy, and often seethes with frustration. He's also somewhat infatuated with Briar because of the unique bond they've built through their experiences. His subconscious weeps for murder and calls him to spill blood, but his disconnect from these urges cause him to reject them in every way he can. That being said, he is also the most willing to get his hands dirty to feed the urge in small ways. He will never let himself take another innocent life, but the urge hopes otherwise. He's very observant of the goings-ons around him, but he's actually pretty terrible at remembering names and faces. Though he knows he is from Baldur's Gate, he couldn't tell you a thing about it.

Briar Lockren - Tav character, Half-drow Gloomstalker Ranger (and Bagel the Crow) Cursed to cause supernatural levels of misfortune and horrible nightmares of the one who cursed her, Briar's a surprisingly cool-headed and kind person (probably on account of the extreme sleep-deprivation). She works hard to stay positive despite her circumstances and protect people from monsters and her own bad luck. She's also rarely phased by things, having seen some crazy shit due to her curse and also because she's not usually conscious enough to process the severity of what's happening. Her heritage is only really noticed by drow or people who know her parentage (with only the white flecks and her slightly discolored skin acting as proof of her drow lineage), and otherwise her terrible luck is the only thing that keeps people at a distance. She's too willing to put herself in harm's way, though the tadpoles seem to have cut her off from the effects of her curse. She's also very likely to fire off a round of perfectly-aimed arrows and then immediately turn around and walk into a pole she was warned several times was right behind her. She's originally from Luskan, but has been to many places on the Sword Coast and has settled in Cloakwood recently.

Dyven Courten - Hireling Character, Zariel Tiefling Life Cleric of Ilmater Dyven's middle aged life was cut short when he was tadpoled and then cut down while serving the Absolute. Furious at the cult for taking away the life he'd struggled so hard to find meaning and contentment in, Dyven was all too happy to accept the call to assist in taking down the Absolute. Though he has the disposition necessary for a healer as himself, he's a bit of a rotten priest, often causing trouble: poking his nose into others' business, skimming off of offerings to the church, and generally acting impiously. He's fiercely paternal of Briar and even the Dark Urge, having failed his own estranged daughter in the dark times before he found purpose under Ilmater. He's keenly aware that he won't be going back to a normal life after the Absolute is defeated, but he's long-since given up on only living for himself. He'll drink and steal and see whose age-appropriate pants he can get into along the way, sure. And yet, he's giving this mission everything he's got despite his proclivities. He hails from Rivington, and he's understandably nervous to see his friends at the Church of Ilmater one final time.

--

tee heeeeee im having a lot of fun novelizing their story, even if it's taking forever, keeping me from playing, and also really not working with my strengths (my style works better for visual novels bc i can do a lot of showing AND telling - novels are fuckin hard, man)

the party's basically The Most Socially Awkward Angst Machine, The World's Sleepiest Idiot Savant, and A Chronically Divorced Corpse

no wonder i havent beat the game yet, theres no way the world's resting on these fucking idiots

[pineappleliar]

I gotta go crazy talking about the Abnormalities/Distortion dichotomy for a bit, cause its been spinning around in my mind as I make my way through Lob Corp/Limbus. Also I’ve only got like 30 minutes in Ruina so I probably have holes in my knowledge even if I know LoR’s general plot.

Limbus makes two thinks clear about the two; that these entities have a distinct ‘feel’ from each other, and that Abnormalities are the end state for a Distortion. Beyond that we know a few traits exclusive to Abnormalities; namely that they are immortal, and can produce Enkaphalin. As well, both have Carmen as a key element in their creation, although I’m not sure if she is a requirement, or just the most common means available.

you see, before learning that evolution thing in the most recent Intervallo I had assumed the two were parallel creations through cogito, the main difference being the willingness of the individual being changed in the process. Abnormalities are formed from unwilling subjects, and Distortions, for all their turmoil, are choosing to become said creatures. The fact that a Distortion is an earlier state of an Abno changes things, though, as it brings into question something that’s bugged me about Lob Corp for a bit now.

Simply put, too many of the Abnos in the Corporation are clerly reflecting specifically the anxieties of Ayin (and Carmen) to be ignored. The birds are the three parts of the Head, Whitenight is the false prophet nature of the corp if they never actually complete the tree, Bloodbath is here, and my favorite the Black Swan who suspiciously has a backstory where a girl named Elijah becomes sick due to contamination and melts in front of someone. There’s more than that, but the point in these aren’t the concerns of the people who were used as the base for these Abnos; they’re the concerns of the Manager specifically being plastered on top of someone else.

So how does that work?

I think about the Time Ripper distortion here, and how its brought up in the Intervallo. One of the main highlights of its narrative is in how the Distortion itself has begun to contradict its own thesis statement for existing; rather than sharing its time equally, certain parts hog the time and recreate that disparity. And I think that is relevant because it brings up the question of what happens to a Distortion who can’t even fulfill the desire they distorted for?

Well, they become an abnormality.

It provides something akin to an answer to the Lob Corp question, because it gives a means to bypass the Distortion phase entirely by just overwriting said person’s goals out the gate. Alternatively, the absence of a responsive Carmen could be the issue; she does provide a particular sense of direction to those who do Distort, so it could be without her around things were more likely to spiral off into something without any direction. Ugh but how do the Peccatula factor into this…

Anyways really looking forward to playing Library of Ruina and realizing everything I put here is comically wrong.

[leslie-lyman]

Hi! I was thinking for your Stranger at my Gate series, what do you think Pero’s reaction to modern sickness and medicine would be? Maybe even getting a bit of a cold or the flu himself. And of course how would Tessa react to Pero’s “first time” being sick, or at least sick in the modern world.

(Also yes, I’m 18+)

Have a good day/night.

Oh anon, I’ve actually thought about this quite a bit! Thank you thank you thank you for finally giving me the push I needed to actually write this. I’m extremely rusty but god I missed these two so much.

Sick Day

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: T

Warnings: discussions of illness; flu symptoms (but no vomiting); anxious Pero; if I had a nickel for every time I wrote these two showering together without having sex I’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but weird that it’s happened twice

Masterlist. | Series Masterlist. | dividers by @/saradika

This process happens in two phases.

The first is the unlearning of essentially everything Pero has ever been told about how the human body works, how diseases are spread, and how to treat them. This isn’t terribly difficult to do, it turns out; Pero’s seen enough “medicine” administered during battles and in their aftermaths in his life to know it’s not a particularly useful or reliable field. Patients were more likely to get worse and die following whatever “treatment” they received in his experience. And any religious faith he had was utterly shattered by his time in China. It gets tough to believe the Church’s teachings about anything, including in the power of prayer and faith to heal, once you fight monsters from outer space.

The second is the absorbing of a deluge of modern knowledge about medicine. This one proves tougher. It’s easy for Pero to be convinced that his era’s beliefs about bodies and health were wrong. It’s far harder for him to grasp even the basics of something like germ theory, simply because such things seem to him as equally fantastical as the body being governed by four humors.

It is in this that Tessa, perhaps more than anything else, has to ask for Pero’s trust. He may not be able to understand the mountain of knowledge that underpins why and how, for example, vaccines work and are safe. Tessa and Henry do their best to explain, but in the end, Pero’s consent to get a flu shot relies on trusting that the Walshes are telling him the truth.

That trust gets easier to give over time, not only because Pero comes to trust Tessa in all things as he grows to love her, but also because his experiences with modern medicine start to accumulate.

He slowly comes to realize he doesn’t have to suffer through aches and ailments like he used to. The first time Tessa notices he has a headache, she offers him two white tablets and a glass of water. And it works. His pain eases. He didn’t even know he could ask for something to treat it.

He cuts his hand helping Tessa make dinner one night. (He may or may not have been distracted by how attractive he found Tessa deftly wielding her own knife against an array of vegetables.) Tessa calmly walks him through cleaning the wound (modern hygiene has been its own set of important lessons for Pero), then places some ointment and a bandage on it. In his time, he would have worried about the cut festering. At the very least, he would expect to add a new pink scar to the collection that already covers his body. But instead, the cut heals far faster than he’d have anticipated, and his skin heals without a permanent mark.

As for illness, Pero has muscled his way through a fair number of them in his life. He didn’t have much of a choice. He’s not afraid of dying from illness; death was a daily possibility in his time, and he’d learned to live with that. The risk of his being sick is not that he’d fall to pieces, but rather that he’d be the silent suffering type who wouldn’t ask for help.

So what truly scares him isn’t the first time he gets sick. It’s the first time Tessa gets sick.

It happens not terribly long after he decides to stay. Winter is, after all, cold and flu season. And while Tessa no longer works in an office environment or has to take public transportation to downtown Chicago every day or interact much with other people on a daily basis, she does interact quite often with her niece and nephews.

Kids are germ magnets. It’s just the way it is. And when one of them gets sick, they all get sick. And when Molly, Toby, and Finn have to stay home from school, and neither Amie nor Thom can take a day off from work, and Uncle Henry is busy with his own patients, guess who comes over to take care of them?

Aunt Tessa.

And she’s happy to do it, don’t get her wrong! And she does her absolute best not to catch the nasty flu that’s currently going around their school and that they’ve brought home. But there’s really only so much one can do.

It’s a bad one this year. Despite getting her flu shot (and making sure Pero gets his), after three days of helping to look after three extremely contagious kids she wakes up the next morning feeling like she got hit by a truck. Fever, chills, aches, the whole shebang. It sucks, but hey, that’s how it goes. She’ll take her meds, consume a steady diet of soup and Gatorade, and watch daytime tv for a few days.

Pero, on the other hand, panics.

Fevers are not things that are easy to fight off in his time. Imagine what seeing the woman he loves struck down with what he only knows as plague would do to him. It doesn’t matter what Tessa and Henry have explained to him about modern understandings of illness and how to treat them. This is not an unfortunate but routine occurrence in his eyes. This is something that could kill Tessa.

She spends most of the first day asleep, her fever lowered but not broken by the leftover meds she had from the last time she’d gotten sick the previous winter. Despite trying to both reassure Pero and convince him to stay away lest he catch this bug too, Pero refuses to leave her side.

He steps out of their bedroom only once, to make his very first phone call.

Tessa had shown him how to use her phone to contact her family in case of an emergency, but he’s never felt a reason to use it until now. Every aspect of it is completely strange, each time the screen responds to his touch making him flinch the tiniest bit in surprise. But he manages to call Henry.

“Tess?” her brother says when he picks up.

“Henry. I - it’s - hello.” Pero stumbles over the greeting, remembering at the last second that he needs to hold the phone against his cheek to hear and be heard.

“Pero?” Henry’s voice turns sharp, concerned. “What’s wrong? Tessa okay?”

“She’s ill. The same pestilence as the children.”

“Ah. Same symptoms? Fever, chills, all that?”

“Yes. She’s been sleeping for a while. Tried to tell me she was alright, but she’s…Henry, she’s burning up.”

“She will be alright, Pero,” Henry says gently. “She just needs to take some medicine and stay hydrated, and she’ll-”

“You don’t know that!” Pero barks, fear making it come out harsher than he intends. “Henry, please, just - will you come? She’s your sister, and she is…she’s my…”

He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Please. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know what to do. But you do. I need you to make sure she’s okay.”

Henry is silent for a moment, and seems to grasp the larger context of Pero’s fear.

“Of course I’ll come to check on her. And I’ll bring over some things that will help. Give me an hour or so.”

“Thank you.” Relief laces Pero’s voice. Henry snorts.

“Please, she hasn’t let anyone properly take care of her while she’s been sick in years. Now I have an excuse to baby my stubborn baby sister. I should be the one thanking you.”

Henry arrives with his arms laden with soups, sports drinks, ice cream, and several boxes of meds. Tessa grumbles first at being roused from her nap, then at the sight of her brother.

“Fuck’s sake, Hank,” she groans into her pillow. “It’s just the flu.”

“Good afternoon to you too, dear sister. What a pleasure it always is to see your lovely face.”

Tessa rolls over just enough to glare at him with one glassy, fever-glazed eye.

“It’s just. The. Flu. Courtesy of those little gremlins we’re related to. It’s gonna suck for a few days but then I’ll be fine. You should be taking care of your actual patients who really do need your help.”

Henry cajoles her into sitting up a bit, then slips both his stethoscope and a thermometer from a coat pocket.

“Really, Hank, there’s no need – ”

“Tessa,” he says lowly, and the serious note in his voice makes her pay attention. “I’m here because Pero called me. He’s worried, Tee. I think you’re scaring your boyfriend a little.”

Tessa’s gaze jumps to Pero, who’s lingering in the doorway. The way her expression completely softens would make Henry roll his eyes if he weren’t so damn happy his sister had finally found someone who loved her the way Pero did.

“I’m sorry, Pero,” she croaks. He shakes his head vigorously and comes to sit on the other side of the bed.

“Do not apologize, mi amor.” He tenderly pushes her hair back from her sweaty forehead. “Just please let your brother do what he must. I will not take chances when it comes to you.”

The fight instantly goes out of her. Henry checks her vitals and makes her take another dose of medicine, letting his healing Gift soothe the worst of the body aches and calming her chills. Once she’s drifting off to sleep again he briefs Pero in the kitchen.

“Meds every four hours, check her temperature as often as she’ll allow you. Make sure she keeps drinking, and try to get her to eat something when she wakes up. If her fever doesn’t break in the next 36 hours, or suddenly spikes, call me.”

Pero nods, looking more serious than Henry has ever seen him, which is saying quite a lot about a man who essentially invented resting bitch face a thousand years before anyone else.

Henry gives the other man’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“I appreciate you calling me, Pero. But I promise Tessa is not in any danger. We just live with these things now; we don’t die from them.”

Pero shifts his weight from one foot to another.

“It is…difficult. After a lifetime of seeing people die from what starts as the smallest wound or barest cough…but I trust in your knowledge.”

“As I trust that you would do anything to keep my sister safe,” Henry returns warmly, gathering his things. “You better just hope that those protective instincts don’t drive you completely insane once you two have kids.”

Henry is out the door before Pero can think of a response.

Tessa sleeps fitfully that night, but Pero is even more restless, hyper aware of every time his love tosses and turns. Her fever breaks sometime in the early morning, and she wakes completely drenched in sweat. He helps her into the shower, settling her onto the bench on the far end of the glass-enclosed stall. She’s still paler than she should be, but her eyes when she looks up at him are clear.

A smile tugs at her lips as he gently washes her hair, then her body. His large hands remove evidence of her sickness from her skin, and the tight knot of anxiety in his chest loosens as he rubs a soapy cloth along each part of her.

“You know,” she says wryly, “under slightly different circumstances I’d be two seconds away from jumping your bones right now.”

Pero huffs at the unfamiliar phrase.

“If that means what I think it means, you have a few days at least before you are up for such things again, mi amor.”

He coaxes her to lean forward against his chest so he can wash her back.

“Pero?”

“Mm?”

She loops her arms around his neck, stilling his movements.

“I love you.”

The knot in his chest unravels.

“As I love you, angel.”

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

He pulls back to look at her.

“You do not have to thank me for such a thing, Tessa. I will always take care of you.”

She nuzzles back into his chest, fatigue starting to wear at her again.

“I’ll always take care of you too, Pero,” she mumbles sleepily into his skin. He feels it sink into his bones like a vow. He resumes his task, mindful of finishing before the water runs cold.

“I know, my love,” he whispers into her hair. “I know.”

[gabbi-gabz-a-lot]

why do you find dark gray so compelling?

a couple of reasons, really.

To be honest? Nostalgia. I am a Black woman and there was very sparing Black girl rep when I was a kid, least of all as an endgame romantic lead (and even if they didn't pan out in canon) I had wanted Danny and Valerie to end up together. Add that to the fact that I was just entering into my Toxic Anime Romance phase of girlhood I saw the Evil-But-Hot-Future-Version of Danny and I was like "YEP." I've been a Problematic Ship Girlie™ since Day 1. I'm not new to this I'm true to this lol.

I like Interesting™ ship dynamics. This doesn't mean that its only toxic ships, but like they have to grow into each other for me to care about them. I like ships where it's not so much that they change *for* each other but they change each other you know? Whether for good or for ill is less important (to me) than if its interesting.

Picking up from points one and two: I am a firm believer that catharsis is not just for Good Emotions™ sometimes you have to interact or make art that's like "Damn, (is that/would that be) fucked up or what?" Art gives us a safe place to explore upsetting concepts with full control to engage or not engage with it. If somebody is triggered by a Fucked Up Vibe™ and can't consume media that has it, they have the power to leave and not consume the media, meanwhile that same art might give a different person the space to process a triggering experience in a safe way. And sometimes your brain just likes that sort of fucked up shit y'know? its why we make horror movies.

Their Vibe is Atrocious <3 and I find it Fascinating. This ship has it all! They're both hot as adults. They have a History™. They've got an appealing contrast in color schemes. If the writers weren't so dead set on making sure that everyone and their grandma rehashed that Danny and Sam were Endgame in the show* you could have played way more into the "What Might Have Been" angle for Dark Gray, which would have been more interesting, even if it was just for that episode. It makes for an Interesting™ dynamic when one of your characters is surviving the apocalypse and one of them is the apocalypse.

Their Vibe Could Be Less Atrocious and I find that compelling. As I said before, I like stories where characters grow and change, or reveal facets that were maybe under explored in canon. Valerie's arc never got finished in the show (they did her so fucking dirty and I'll be mad about it forever), meanwhile Dan wasn't given the depth that he aught to have had in the series (though the comic has done a good bit to correct this, but then again I only consider those partly canon and [obviously] don't consider myself beholden to "canon" regardless) but this could be a chance for both characters to get the resolution canon deprived of them. It has a lot of potential for reconciliation and forgiveness. For growth. For digging into the depths of what we consider forgivable and maybe going past that. Or making the decision not to go past it. Which makes for and interesting story. When you start off with a Fucked Up Vibe™ and try to make it Less Fucked™ that requires all these Complex Emotions and Choices and I like those.

It's inherently absurd and that makes it flexible. As a Certified Enemies To Lovers Old Head™ I can say for certain that the premise is already a bit ridiculous in most settings (though there's a couple slow burns that have the progression make sense) let alone one where a Fomer-Half-Ghost-Teenager-Turned-Two-Half-Ghosts-In-A-Trenchcoat causes the apocalypse and his Ex-Girlfriend/Ghost-Hunter-Turned-Post-Apocalyptic-Freedom-Fighter would, after decades of trying to annihilate each other, agree to date. And worse than that, they're like 20 somethings who probably haven't dated anyone for real, they never had a shot at having a healthy, well-adjusted adult relationship (at least to begin with). Its kinda bonkers out the gate, taking this ship as a serious depiction of a desirable romantic partnership would be straight up goofy. But it's good tv, or something, as they say. I take the ship as seriously as I feel like, it doesn't have to be that deep unless I want it to be.

Fandom is literally just for fun. I run on the model of: tag appropriately and do whatever you want forever. And what I want is to make the blorbos from my problematic childhood niche ship kiss! Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

*Imma need to preemptively bust out my can of Stan-B-Gone before anybody starts getting ideas. I am 30, and I am not getting into an internet fight because someone not liking your ship crinkles your undies. You can like the canon ship and still acknowledge that it was poorly executed. Because it was.

But yeah, tldr: