#That's him! My blorbo from the archives!!

[anxiousyetepic]

I'm fine.

I just randomly found a taped oral history interview (from the year I was born) of the man I centered my Black History Month display on.

I'm being so normal about this

[crabussy]

jonathan sims (random guy who looked exactly like him in every way imaginable) was on my scuba boat. naturally I was completely normal about this <- lying

[pixelatedraindrops]

When it comes to the RainCode Fandom I'm glad there's one thing we all agree on:

Yuma being a pathetic little wet napkin

but tbf

that's exactly why we love him 💜

[prismbearer]

Raphael doing yet another presentation on the process of the tadpoled making their way to their destiny of saving the world and handing him godhood:

[il3x]

so we all know Bird Song by Florence + The Machine is a Moash song, right? like, THE Moash song?

[sedgewicke]

PSA: If you want me to feel bad about your tragic past or whatever new bullshit you're going through right now?

Maybe don't A) assault your nephew-stepson for not trusting you/making you look bad/so you can strong-arm him into giving you even more power than you already have, or B) marry a guy who'll assault your son for the previously mentioned reasons or really most any reason, because that's a man who belongs at the bottom of a chasm and you're the one who should be putting him there.

At least have the decency to make sure your dirtbag actions are properly framed as dirtbag actions and not... perfectly acceptable, I guess?

[deerspherestudios]

Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

[gallusrostromegalus]

Funky Muguruma Kensei AEIWAM headcanons? Spare serotonins with the blorbos? /j Also what's AEIWAM Mashiro like? She's one of the only characters I genuinely get annoyed by in the canon oof

:)

So the friendship between Kaname and Mashiro is one of my favorite things in the fic so far. Have a spoilerific Scene (Part 1 of ?)

Crickets and Grasshoppers

Scene One of ??? Approximately 7K words Fluff that goes South and won't get (sort of ) better until part 2, warnings for body horror, referenced torture and Emotionally Devastating Betrayal

:)

It was Tuesday November 5th, 1901, Scheduling Day in the Ninth Division and Mashiro was standing in front of the vending machine just down the street from the Ninth, choosing her armaments for the coming battle. 

In other divisions, the actual drawing up of rosters was the job of lower-seated officers and the specific parts of the Division they were responsible for.  Tousen’s friend Komamura has told her once that the 7th Division’s schedule was so predictable, they only looked at the roster once a year when people retired or were hired. A fascinating concept to Mashiro, who listened to Komamura’s tales of the 7th with the rapt fascination of an anthropologist privileged to hear the folklore of distant and largely unknown people. 

The Ninth was… complicated for the sake of simplicity.  Information did not move the same way people did, and while the seventh could pass an inbound soul from the Intake Team to Queue Management to the Registry Office, passing an information project from one subdivision to another was a great way to lose said project. So instead of projects moving from subdivision to subdivision as they reached different stages, subdivisions went from stage to stage, following projects. 

This meant scheduling had to be done every month, but it beat the hell out of a major archive loss or communications failure. 

And it meant that Snackage was in order. 

Mashiro surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder to make sure Captain Muguruma was still overseeing drills in the courtyard, then selected 37 cookies, chips, snack cakes, bottles of pop and juice and other goodies from the machine and paid out of the Division Purse.  

Kensei, bless him, was a deeply honorable man who was so reliable you could set a watch by him and would probably cross actual Hell to help a friend, but he did not understand scheduling, much less the kind of caloric requirements it held. 

-- “You’re just sitting there!  What do you need all that for?” He’d asked her once.

“The brain’s the most expensive organ to run in terms of calories.” She’d explained, rolling her eyes and opening a bag of Barbecue-flavored corn chips. “-I know your brain is a plodding cart horse, but you can’t do scheduling.  You need my thoroughbred racehorse brain, and it needs snacks!”

He’d given up with a disgusted groan of defeat, which was good, because the other reason she needed the snacks would have actually made him snap.  -- Mashiro shoved the snacks into her backpack, checked that Kensei was still distracted by drills, darted back across the street where he might spot her, ran around the back of the division, and jumped up to the third-floor window that had been left open for her. 

“The level of subterfuge this perfectly normal administrative process requires…” Fifth-seat Kaname Tousen groaned from where he was lying on the floor, partially under his traditional low desk. 

“-Is half the fun, you dork!” Mashiro giggled, closing the window after her as she climbed in. “All the autumn stuff is in the shops and vending machines now, and I made sure to get every persimmon-flavored thing they had just for you!” She grinned down at her chosen assistant for scheduling. 

The other purpose for the snacks was Bribery. 

Kaname Tousen was, by Mashiro’s estimation, definitely the smartest person in the Ninth Division, and possibly in the entire Soul Society.  If the world was a fair place, he’d be lieutenant and she’d be fifth seat, but the world wasn’t a fair place and in the week between Graduation with every honor Shin’o academy had and starting as the 9th Division’s 20th seat, Kaname had been struck down with some sort of horrible spinal infection that damn near killed him, made him miss his entire first month and a half of work, and left him with occasional bouts of crippling pain, like today, when he’d decided to risk worsening Kensei’s already low opinion of him by doing his work lying flat on his back on a hot pad. 

Kaname’s services as a Brainiac were much in demand and his availability highly limited, so Mashiro guaranteed her place on his schedule with confection-based compensation.

“I mean, Kensei’s a mean old sack and that’s not great for the division too, but the spy shenanigans and scheduling snacktime really is like, The Highlight Of The Month sometimes.” Mashiro shrugged, flopping down on the floor beside him and  dumping the snacks out between them. 

“Captain Muguruma’s sense of discipline is intense but very necess- ow. Yeah, that’s not happening.” Kaname sighed, laying back down from trying to sit up. “-He’s a good man.  Difficult, sometimes, but a good man.”

“You’re way too nice for your own good. Here’s the Persimmon castella cakes.” Mashiro grunted, handing Kaname the small package and the payroll notes to read. 

Kaname groped across his desk for a clipboard, attached the payroll notes to it, propped them up on his stomach so they were balanced on the edge of his desk, and laid all the way back down, face pointed at the ceiling rather than the notes.  Mashiro opened up a packet of Amakara rice crackers, watching him with interest as Kaname took off his goggles. 

The goggles were what convinced Mashiro he was the smartest man in the Soul Society.  Kaname had been born totally blind, but he had figured out how to mount a pair of tiny cameras in the frame of a pair of safety goggles, which were connected to… he’d explained that the little bricks behind the opaque white lenses of his goggles contained something like an obscenely long and complicated Kido spell that spotted readable characters, ‘read’ them, and turned the resulting text into words that played out of the tiny “Microphonogram Speech Players or ‘speakers’ “ hidden in the legs of the goggles.  So he could read pretty much anything printed with enough contrast (and decent enough handwriting, Captain Urahara) because his goggles would read it aloud for him.  They were much slower than most people read, and sometimes he had to stop work to “charge” the spell that made them work, but they worked a damn treat, and had the added advantage that Kaname himself did not need to be looking at the thing he was trying to read, only the goggles.

So now he unwound the coil of wire that connected the Kido brick to the microphonogram, placed the ‘speaker’ back in his ear, and set the glasses on his chest so he could read the notes while keeping his back and neck pressed to the hotpad. 

True Genius, that.

“I love how the cameras wiggle.” Mashiro grinned, watching the two lenses shift and dilate as they focused on the notes. “They move the same way cicadas and grasshoppers shift their eyes independently to focus. It’s so clever to have them operate like that.”

“Hm.  That was Kakiyo’s design, not mine.” Kaname smiled.  Kakiyo was his adopted and now-deceased sister.  “She was always more of an entomologist than me.”

“Weird that you ended up with Suzumushi the cricket for a Zanpaktou then.” Mashiro pondered.  She liked Suzumushi- that sword, and her own Musabori Kuu Batta (Devouring Locust) were two of less than One Hundred insect-type Zanpaktou in the court guard, and fewer still that weren’t butterflies. She couldn’t really see Suzumushi- no shinigami could perceive another’s Zanpaktou Spirit- but she could hear Batta’s half of the conversation the two would chirp to each other sometimes.

Kaname paused from opening the persimmon cake packaging with his teeth. “...Yes. Bizarre.” he said, with a rueful finality that Mashiro took as her cue to change the subject.

“Right. Where are we on the Agricultural Practices census?” She sighed, pulling the active projects list and next month’s calendar out in front of her. 

“Maegawa-san has requested travel permissions to-” Kaname replied, flipping through the pages, the goggles faintly reading off names as he tracked them with his fingertip. “Ah, ‘pull the damn report out through the East 36th Daimyo’s nose if I have to’, which I think we can call a requisitions expense rather than reconnaissance. Unless you think Lieutenant Fon would enjoy the catharsis as well.”

“She WOULD, actually, that girl is wound tighter than my grandpa’s pocketwatch.”  Mashiro nodded, placing the card for “3rd Seat Maegawa” in the “Out Of Office” Pile. 

And so it went for a pleasant hour, eating snacks and solving the five-dimensional time, space and payroll puzzle of scheduling, with Kaname helping her keep track of the process and who was not supposed to be doing overtime or couldn’t be trusted to work with someone else or on maternity leave or whatever. 

“Alright, I think that’s nearly everyone sorted…” Mashiro muttered, going down the list of all 200 division members to make sure they’d made it onto the roster. “Oh wait, we didn’t put you down!” She giggled. 

“I believe my schedule should be identical to last months while we are still doing data entry into the archives, but I do have a request- May I have this coming Friday off?” he asked. “I have an engagement.”

“Who’s getting engaged?” Mashiro teased, erasing him from the roster that day.

Kaname tilted his head a bit, pointing his ear at her with a conspiratorial smirk. “...Can you keep a secret?”

Mashiro blinked at him in surprise, then gasped with delight and leaned in  “Cross my heart and hope to die!” She whispered back, giggling. 

Kaname regarded her for a moment, teasing. “Love- Captain Aikawa has finally worked up the nerve to propose to Lieutenant Yadomaru.”

Mashiro made a noise like an asthmatic teakettle as she tried to not shriek with delight and deafen Kaname as well, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs in the air with excitement.

“-He wants it to be a surprise though, and Lisa is always going through his bag for his water bottle or whatever at kendo practice and she will notice if his schedule changes, so I need to duck out during lunch today and pick up the ring for him to propose with on Friday.” Kaname elaborated.

“A conspiracy!” Mashiro balled her fists with excitement. “When? Where? Can I come?”

“You got an invitation to Captain Kyoraku’s next moon-viewing party, right?”  Kaname asked and she nodded.  “It’s then.”

“EEEK!” Mashiro giggled with delight. 

“What’re you two giggling about?” Kensei grunted from the doorway, still sweaty from training. 

“It’s a SECRET!” Mashiro glared imperiously, sweeping the snack wrappers out of sight off the desk as Kaname sat up with a small grunt of pain and bowed his head in salute.

“Whatever.” Kensei rolled his eyes. “Tousen. Read your report on the dodgy census statistics and possible disappearances in West 66 and I think you’re right.  Something stinks on ice out there.”

Kaname gasped sharply with relief and bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I gotta attend a captain’s meeting this afternoon because Urahara has some harebrained new project to show and tell-” Kensei continued, glaring at his battered fingertips where he’d caught a bokto the wrong way during training. “-Saw that Maegawa is gonna be in East 36 and Fukuda’s on maternity leave, so I’m sending every seated officer from you to 15th seat Shizawa out there to investigate and deal with it.  You all need to be at the Kido Corps for teleportation at three. Mashiro, don’t burn the place down.”

“OH COME ON!” Mashiro shouted with disappointment. 

“HEY! No backtalk!  I know you wanna go but someone’s gotta hold the fort-” Kensei glared down at her. 

“It’s not me!  Kaname has to- I mean-” She sputtered, abruptly remembering his request for secrecy.

“It’s alright!” Kaname tried to smile but ended up grimacing at her as he got up. “I’ll just go get it now and it’ll be in my pocket when I get back!” 

Mashiro glared at him for a moment, but sat back down. “Okay. I guess.” She pouted. 

“Get what?” Asked Kensei. 

“A surprise for Captain Kyoraku’s moon-veiwing party!” Kaname grinned at him as he collected his belongings into his satchel by touch.

Kensei pondered that for a long moment, glaring at Kaname. “...How’d you score an invite?”

“Captain Aikawa invited me along.” Kaname explained over Mashiro’s offended scoff. “We were roommates when we were at the academy and he has very kindly kept inviting me along to things despite my not really being able to keep up with him anymore.” 

Kensei regarded him a moment longer. “Huh.” he eventually decided. “Well, see you when you get back from the investigation.” He waved, dismissing Tousen.

“Thank you Sir.  Lieutenant Kuna.” Kaname bowed before jogging off. 

“See you later Kaname-kun!” Mashiro called after him.

“-Even if he won’t technically see yo- OW!” Kensei yelped as Mashiro clipped him sharply under the ear. 

“Why are you so MEAN to him!?” Mashiro glared up at her captain as he rubbed his jaw. 

“I’m not mean! I’m just- it’s just office banter!” Kensei growled back. “I can just not like a guy and still be colleagues with him, okay?”

“No, apparently you can’t!” Mashiro “You’ve been really hard on him and getting on his case and teasing him since day one!”

“-More like day thirty-two, he missed the first six weeks of his appointment.” Kensei grumbled.

“That was literally FIFTY years ago and he was in the HOSPITAL. BECAUSE HE NEARLY DIED!”  She bellowed, probably loud enough for Kaname to hear in the street but it didn’t matter. “Yeah, it sucked, but it wasn’t his fault! I don’t get why you were mad at him back then, and I really don’t get why you’re still mad about it NOW!”

“I’M NOT MAD ABOUT THAT, I JUST-” Kensei bellowed back but then stopped, hand over his mouth. “...He keeps secrets.”

Mashiro stared at him blankly for a moment, face slowly collapsing from bewilderment into disgust. “OH. MY GOD. You’re the one always going on about operational security!  He’s just careful- all the details are in his summarial reports, if you ever read them…”

“I do!” Kensei barked. “And they’re-  I mean, All the information he’s required to fill out is there, and then some.” He sputtered, deflating. 

Mashiro leaned in close, eyebrow cocked at him. 

“...But I keep getting this feeling it’s not the whole picture.” Kensei muttered. 

“Ugh!” Mashiro shouted, throwing her hands up and turning away. “So you don’t like him because you have bad reading comprehension?”

“Shut up! I don’t- there’s just something off about that guy! He’s always taking weird days off-” Kensei started, ticking off a list on his fingers. 

“You mean the sick days from his spinal infection?” Mashiro glared, arms folded across her chest.

Kensei continued to count his grievances “-and taking secret calls in weird corners-!”

“You mean privately scheduling his medical treatment? For his spinal infection?” Mashiro continued to glare.

“-And getting him to go to the fifth or third division is like pulling teeth! What the hell is up with that?” Kensei demanded.

“You mean the divisions that have A) Lieutenant Iba, the woman who has a weird horoscope-based personal grudge against him-” Mashiro asked, mimicking Kensei’s earlier counting, “-and B) Lieutenant Aizen, who also keeps forgetting he has a spinal injury and slaps Kaname across the shoulders every time they meet?  Yeah, I don’t blame him for wanting to avoid two of the most annoying people in the whole court guard!”

“Whatever.” Kensei waved her off. “I’m still right. There’s something off with him. Now get that roster updated and posted!”

“Yes, sir.” Mashiro groaned, rolling her eyes at him and stomping back to Kaname’s office for the Roster.

***

Kaname hadn’t felt this light in years. 

Oh god.

Oh, GOD!

Please, please, please please let this be happening?

He sprinted down the road, back towards the apartment that he and Sajin shared, the small box with Love’s ring in his chest pocket.  He allowed himself an ounce of elation- After all, I am just a young man who has picked up the engagement ring of one of his best friends!  It is exactly what anyone would expect to see-

That was the tricky part of The Curse. 

He couldn’t talk about it, like many curses, but it had the added complication that anyone who looked at him- or listened to him, or put their hands on him, or- 

Well, they’d only find what they expected to find. 

Certainly not a curse. 

But curses cut both ways- The broader and less specific a command for someone bearing a curse was, the harder it was to enforce, and it was harder to come up with a command broader and more open to interpretation than “Help Me Kill God”. So as long as Kaname could argue to the curse that an action did “help” some aspect of Aizen’s plans, he could be inefficient, neglect to mention something important, do an assigned task sloppily, fail to cover his tracks and so on-  Sometimes Other times, the curse would take effect and cripple him until he relented and obeyed Aizen’s command again. Or at least, managed to convince Aizen he was doing what Aizen wanted. 

Aizen hadn’t quite realized it, but he was also subject to his own illusions, and there was a gap- a mirror image, if Kaname understood mirrors correctly- so long as he appeared as Aizen expected, Aizen wouldn’t notice him sabotaging Aizen’s machinations. So for the last three years, Kaname had done his best to appear tired and overworked and failing from exhaustion rather than malice, or like he was starting to agree with Aizen, which is exactly what the narcissist expected after fifty years of mental, physical and spiritual torture. 

It was finally  paying off. 

He’d managed to make the kidnappings Aizen and Gin had been conducting on the villagers of West 56 appear by conducting a census that showed the discrepancy of expected versus actual population.  -And made sure the increased hollow activity in the area from Aizen’s experiments showed up in the 10th Division’s monitoring statistics. - And the weird waves of reiatsu visible on the 12th’s monitoring equipment- not what people expected to see, but by keeping all the evidence noticed by unrelated parties, he kept it out of the scope of Aizen’s Illusions. 

Kyoga Suigetsu took a lot of energy to operate, and Tousen was pretty sure Aizen could only passively fool about 150 at a time- he chose mostly his own division and people he saw daily, like his neighbors and cross-division colleagues, and could only actively alter the reality of maybe 20 people at once- the other captains and a few key would-be witnesses.   So a rural census-taker, and two members at the bottom ranks of other divisions weren’t actively subject to the illusion. 

He had to do it on faith, that someone would notice-

Kaname felt like he’d been holding his breath for weeks now, doing his best to tell Aizen and the constantly-itching nails in his spine that this was a Perfectly Normal Database Cross-referencing project- very boring, but it will be missed if it’s not done, Lord Aizen- and nothing to draw attention to the horrible Laboratory…

…By some miracle, Mugurama had read the report, understood and believed it- Kensei had a naturally suspicious mind, so Kaname made sure the report was full of “It's entirely possible this is all a weird coincidence!” to make him suspicious.  The curse only showed people what they expected to see, and for once, Kensei’s natural pessimistic expectations allowed him to see the truth. 

24 hours.  That’s all I have left.

The only people in the Ninth Aizen had under his Active Influence were Kensei and Mashiro, so he wouldn’t be able to hide the nature of the laboratory from the investigation team without dropping the Active Illusion on someone else and risk discovery- and so long as Aizen didn’t find out about the expedition, he wouldn’t know to make that shift in time.

24 hours. I only need to keep Aizen distracted for 24 hours. 

In Aizen’s personal quarters, The Distraction Apparatus waited.

Aizen was mistaken to force Kaname to do his lab work for him- Kaname understood it better than him now, and had pulled aside a little trick to confuse him. The Hogyoku bonded with its user, almost like a zanpaktou, and communicated with them- it purred when Aizen fed it, and whined when it was hungry.  Aizen knew about Suzumushi’s Bankai- he’d insisted Kaname develop it under his supervision, so he would know of all Kaname’s abilities.  But he only knew it from the inside, and hadn’t realized that not only was anyone inside blind, deaf and without any form of sensory input, neither could anyone on the outside sense anyone within. It was worth it to break Suzumushi like that. It was actually her idea, to break the guard of his Zanpaktou and separate the ring from it.  That’s where the Bankai was stored, and with a hell of a lot of practice, he’d learned to cast it remotely.

It had been months before he had an opportunity-  Kaname would never forgive what had been done to that poor angel, but during one of the The Sessions where Aizen was using the Hogyoku to change the angel, Kaname was able to get ahold of the little Illusion box Aizen kept the infernal device in, Secure Suzumushi’s ring to the floor, disguise the tampering with a false floor, and return the box to it’s place without Aizen’s notice. The Ring had been waiting there for months.

24 hours, and the secret will be out. 

He’d memorized Aizen’s schedule- in 22 minutes Aizen would be entering the reiatsu-locked laboratory of the 12th with his own Captain Shinji for Kisuke’s Demonstration, and would not be able to feel Kaname activate his Bankai. When he came back out, it would seem like the Hogyoku had vanished. And for all Aizen would be able to tell, it had- he wouldn’t be able to perceive the Hogyoku or it’s illusion box until Kaname released his Bankai. 

So for now, Kaname acted exactly like Aizen would expect him to act- a little tired, a lot in pain, but elated that two of his best friends were getting engaged, and that he’d be able to help. That was a natural source of excitement, and definitely not any kind of counter conspiracy-

Kaname jogged down the stairs to the apartment, ring box in his pocket, heart hammering, hands shaking a bit as he took out the keys to unlock his door, grabbed the knob that was not there and was suddenly off balance and falling- Into something soft and steady that carefully picked him up like a child’s doll and set him back on his feet, gently taking his hands.

“Are you alright?” Sajin asked, soft, deep voice tinged with concern. “My apologies, I was just trying to do some house cleaning while the weather is mild and had the door open for ventilation.”

“Y- yeah! I’m. I’m alright. Just- distracted. I’ve had some good news!”  He grinned up at his friend. 

“Oh?” Sajin asked, tugging lightly at Kaname’s fingertips to indicate he should step inside.  “Mind your way, I have all the chairs out in the living room so I can sweep.”

They had been living in this garden-level apartment for the forty years since Sajin had followed Kaname into the court guard, and under the same roof at the Akaido City Library for many years before that, and their domestic arrangements settled into a comfortable and comforting routine- Kaname was incapable of seeing grime, so Sajin did the housekeeping, and Sajin would eat raw, expired meat if left unattended, so Kaname did the cooking and shopping. 

Kaname followed his lead, hand reflexively on Sajin’s instinctively proffered arm to keep balance while he unbuckled and took off his boots- the gestures of proximal intimacy had calcified into a secret language between them.

“Thanks-” Kaname stood up and stepped in with a guiding hand on the wall. He could normally navigate the apartment by memory alone. “-I’m only here for a few minutes, I’ve also got a deployment I need to pack for.”

“Deployment?” Sajin asked, following after him, voice slightly muffled from the cloth mask he wore over his face- at least when the door was open.  Being mostly underground had it’s advantages- Kaname didn’t need much light and Sajin possessed almost superhuman darkvision, and the small, high windows that were obscured by bushes gave them enough Privacy that Sajin could relax and keep his face bare at home. 

24 hours.  

Maybe. Maybe when it all came out, and the dust settled--Assuming they don’t hang me alongside Aizen, which was a big If--But once it was all said and done and I still draw breath- Maybe I will have the courage to ask Sajin what it is he feels he needs to hide.Surely, he is far too gentle to be half so monstrous as he claims.

“Kaname?”  Sajin prompted, and Kaname realized he’d been silent for nearly a minute. “S-sorry. I just. Captain Muguruma finally read my report on West 66 and ordered and immediate investigation, so I have to be at the Kido corps by three-” “Kaname.” “Ah, No don’t worry,  I’ll get dinner prepared so you only have to put it under the broiler, and There’s um-” “Kaname.” 

“-I’ll be back by Friday for Love and Lisa’s- Right- Here, I need you to-”  He sputtered, dozens of ideas baying for his attention at once, patting his chest for the ring box- “Kaname!” Sajin snapped, and his giant hands were on Kaname’s shoulders again, turning him around in place to face his friend, gloved hand suddenly under his chin, holding his face up for Sajin to glare at. “...When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine!” Kaname tried to jerk back, laughing defensively. 

“You’ve gone to bed after me and gotten up before me, if you went to bed at all for at least a week, and I’m doing maximum overtime. You don't have bags so much as matched luggage under your eyes and can’t finish a sentence coherently.  You’re not touching anything in the kitchen.” Sajin rattled off, giving Kaname’s chin a light shake. “...it’s not yet eleven, and the Kido Corps is less than ten minutes from here. I’ll see to your packing. Lie down. Please.”  

Kaname sighed, shoulders slumping. “Sajin, I- I need to-”

“You need. To sleep.” Sajin rumbled, no room in his voice for argument.

Kaname panted for a moment, realizing that if Sajin wasn’t holding him in place he’d be swaying with exhaustion. 

24 hours.

…I can spend one or two of them resting. 

If I don’t manage to prove my innocence, I’ll want to have at least this to think about on the gallows.

“...Stay with me until I fall asleep?” Kaname asked, voice soft. “It’s just. It’s been a lot.” “Of course.” Sajin hummed, rubbing his cheek. “I also need to, ah- use facilities, first.” he grimaced, and Sajin let him go. 

“I’m coming in after you if I think you’ve passed out on the floor.” Sajin threatened. 

“That happened ONE TIME-!” Kaname protested, following the wall to the bathroom.

Once inside, he checked the time again. 

If the meeting had stuck to schedule, they should be inside the 12th’s labs now.  

Kaname sent Aizen a test message to his Soul Pager. 

> Mandatory Status Report: Muguruma handed me a sudden assignment. Won’t be back until Friday.

If he was outside the Reiatsu-locked lab, that missive would have Aizen furiously calling him in under five minutes. He timed it, relieving himself and washing his hands as he waited-

Nothing.

“Here goes…” he muttered, hoping the sound of the bathroom fan and the running water would cover his voice. He focused, feeling the silver ring start to rotate in his mind, the way it multiplied and stretched, the rings dancing a circle on that which needed to be concealed-

“-Bankai.” He whispered, skin tingling- 

-And suddenly he was keenly aware of the hogyoku and it’s illusion box, as though he were holding it, both wholly contained and hidden by his Bankai.  

It is done The distraction is set. In a few hours, all will be revealed to the rest of the court guard. There. All I need  to do now was follow the assignment like I was told and investigate the- the-

-He suddenly he felt the Bankai’s draw on his power and he collapsed over the sink, retching and knees shaking with how weak he felt. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and almost tasted like vinegar in the back of his mind,  high-pitched ringing between his ears. 

The nails sizzled ominously but there was no power behind it- It’s alright- I can- I can deal with this. Just breathe, come on dumbass, you just need to keep breathing for another 24 hours.

“Kaname? Sajin called.

“Nothing broke!” Kaname called back, forcing himself to his feet and stumbling back against the wall.  He tested the Bankai again- It holds. Very convenient of you Suzumushi, that I only need to cast and feed it, rather than concentrate…

Suzumushi chriped distractedly, her focus on maintaining the Bankai. With her concentration, the illusion would hold even as he slept. Cold water on his face and neck, trying to make himself vaguely presentable and the room stop spinning as he stumbled out- oh, Sajin is right here, how thoughtful of him…

“It’s alright, just follow me…” Sajin soothed, guiding him along to the Thick Futon and large collection of pillows they used as a couch- nothing with legs would bear Sajin’s weight for long. He allowed Sajin to pull him down, settling beside Kaname until he was wedged between Sajin’s giant body and the collection of cushions, head on his friend’s chest, listening to his heartbeat- A little slower than mine, and steady- always so steady- so- 

Kaname was asleep before he completed the thought. 

---

Scene two: 23 hours later

“It’s just up this way Mister Shinigami!”  The boy said, his hot little hand pulling Kaname along. 

They’d gotten to West 66 and Kaname had realized he’d been wrong to worry about looking like he already knew the way to the Laboratory- Iruka Village had taken some fairly extreme defensive measures against the kidnappings since the last time he’d been forced out here- Barricades errected, bridges taken out, and even the road torn up and replanted to hide the route to the village. Kaname was entirely turned around before they even set foot in the Village and started asking the peasants if there was anything unusual nearby.

Fortunately for the expediency of the investigation, one Young Shuuhei Hisagi was extremely eager to help, giving them a detailed accounting of the strange activities at the old foundry, where someone had turned one of the kiln’s back on and there was “An ‘lectric” generator and it smelled a lot like someone was cooking rancid pork but he’d never seen anybody there, even when he went into the basement because he wasn’t ascared of it, weird that there’s a basement, nobody makes basements here as it’s a swamp-

Kaname felt his skin go cold when he realized the boy had somehow gotten inside and made notes and even poked some of the machinery, but given he hadn’t tried to actually chew Kaname’s arm off as he lead the Ninth Division Investigation team to the Lab, he was probably uncontaminated…

“There’s a hill an’ it’s on the other side- mind the branch.” Young Shuuhei was one of the great tragedies of the poor parts of the Rukongai- whip-smart and observant and thoughtful, but illiterate from the lack of teachers, and likely destined for an early grave if the statistical average lifespan out here held true.  His Reiryoku shimmered at the edges- with a little training and a better diet he might even make for a good Shinigami. 

Maybe if I live through this I can get him a scholarship.  Kaname mused, trying to think about literally anything but the nauseating familiarity of the smell creeping over the hill. 

“Mr. Hisagi?” he asked in the polite voice he’d cultivated as the Head Librarian to indicate to children he was taking them very seriously.

The Boy snapped to attention. “Sir?”

“Thank you for leading us here, but I absolutely cannot allow you any closer. It’s extremely dangerous here-”  he started to explain.

“I been in before! An’ the door’s trickylike you gotta pull the handle up and in and rattle it to get in and then prop somethin’ in the gap or it locks back behind you-”  Shuuhei explained, gesturing  like Kaname could see him demonstrating. 

“-And you were lucky to get out in one piece! I also need you to do a very important job.”  Kaname sighed, familiar with this kind of kid- slightly too bright and kind-hearted for his own good, but reliable at a task- “-I can hear that some of your friends have followed us from the village.  They’re about a quarter mile behind us-”

“Dangit Suichi-!” Shuuhei muttered under his breath. “-Yeah that’s probably my little brother and his friends. You want me to go chase him back home?”

“Precisely. Also, tell everyone to get indoors and stay put until they get an all-clear.  Just in case something goes wrong, I need everyone to stay safe until re-enforcements arrive.  So go get everyone back home and inside, alright?” “Yessir!” Shuuhei snapped a salute and Kaname heard some of the other Shinigami giggle behind him.

“I’m glad I can rely on you.” He nodded, and shooed Shuuhei down the road. The boy took off, hollering for his brother.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.” Laughed Sixth Seat Todo Izaemon. “Cute little thing too-”

“Being in charge of the West 51 Children’s Intensive Literacy School teaches you how to get along with them.”  He shrugged. “Alright, I can’t sense anything, but that doesn’t mean danger is not present.  Even numbered seats- go west and approach from the north. Odd numbers, we go east and approach from the south.”

“Sir!” Izaemon nodded, the next ranked officer. 

Kaname approached the building at a crouch, straining to hear- the brief nap Sajin had insisted on and six-pack of illicitly acquired 4th Division “Stamina Supplements” were doing what they could for him, but everything  hurt and Suzumushi’s Bankai was even more draining than he’d anticipated and he could barely sense more than a few feet around him. But he found the door- Shuuhei was right, the Handle was starting to go out of alignment- Up and in, right? Yeah- and when nothing behind it exploded, he cautiously stepped in. 

“Nobody ran out our side Sir!” Izaemon called and Kaname acknowledged him with a nod. 

“What the hell IS this place?” Seventh-seat Akishita asked, looking around the room.  This was the main floor of the laboratory, where the bulk of Aizen’s butchery was done- the whole place reeked of rotting flesh and sulfur- byproducts of the ‘Hollowfication Process’, and Kaname very nearly tripped on a groove gashed into the floor that hadn’t been there last time. 

“That looks like an office or control room up there-” Kaname said, pointing to the partial second story that took up the west third of the building that he REALLY hoped was still there. “-Akishita, with me. Lets see if there’s a schematic or something.”

“Sir!” She agreed. 

Oh good, it is still there. He thought, trying to not pant with pain- oh god, his eyes were burning and spine felt like it was actively dissolving he was so TIRED- He touched his watch, checking the time again. 

24 minutes.  Come on, just a little more-

He got to the door at the top of the stairs, Akishita behind him. 

“Are you alright Sir?”  She asked.

“What?” He jerked towards her. 

“You seem… really off today.”  She frowned. He could sense the shape of her this close, and the way her hand on the hilt of her Zanpaktou. Maybe just resting, maybe not. 

“I- I haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares.” He gulped. That was actually entirely true.  Still the nails sizzled louder and he winced. “-I -I might need to put in for sick leave when we get back.”

“You really should.  You look awful.”  She nodded, hand off the hilt. 

Kaname nodded, and carefully opened the door into the control room. He felt Akishita turn, making sure nothing unexpected followed them as he stepped in- no traps, but a strange sort of coldness- not a draft, like a there was a block of ice in here-

The door slammed shut behind him. 

“Heya Goggles!” a boy’s voice drawled behind him. 

-Or a snake. 

Kaname froze, skin going cold as Akishita called for him from the other side of the door.

“Gin?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“She’s right, you look like shit!” the boy laughed, activating a Kido seal that barricaded them in the room.  “-Boss sent me to talk to you because the CRAZIEST thing happened at the Captain’s meeting this morning!”

“-Please tell me Urahara’s latest crime against nature maimed him?  I could use some good news.”  Kaname groaned, complaining like usual, like nothing was wrong. There was more shouting from the main floor. He braced himself, feet under his shoulders, feeling Gin’s aura twist as he decided on an angle to strike from.

“Oh nah, Aizen-sama is wrapping things up and planting evidence over at the 12th right now, that’s why I’m here!” Gin laughed. “No, Your Boss Muguruma stopped everyone before Urahara’s demonstration to tell everyone about this report you submitted sayin’ several hundred people had vanished in West 66!  The other haoris were all horrified, I tell ya- Captain Hirako just about shit bricks!  Hollerin’ Aizen-sama’s ear off about it the whole way back to the fifth!”

Kaname gripped Suzumushi’s hilt.

“Oh now don’t be unfriendly!  I even got somethin’ for ya!” Gin laughed, and tossed something his way. Knowing better than to catch anything he threw, Kaname waited for it to hit the floor-

PING!

-Stomach turning over as he recognized the metallic chime of Suzumishi’s ring. 

“Neat trick by the way- Aizen must have spent ten hours turning over the fifth looking for the Hogyoku!!” Gin laughed. “-He didn’t actually find it neither, if it’s any consolation. But he has me, and I got…Abilities.” The boy leered as Kaname Swiped the ring from the ground- Suzumushi had been strangely quiet, and only now did he realize that at some point the sensory illusion of his Bankai had been reversed. Louder yelling from the main floor and the sound of Akishita preparing a Hakudo Kido to blow the door in on the other side. 

“-Shit.”  Kaname growled, reconnecting the ring to the hilt, Suzumushi whimpering in pain. 

“Madder than a mosquito in a mannequin factory he is!” Gin chuckled, then surged forward. Even on a good day, Gin was nearly impossible to block and tonight-

“-Sorry goggles, but I got orders. Rikujokoru!” he hissed fingertips on kaname's sternum, and Kanane was slammed to the ground, six beams of Kido energy hitting his middle, paralyzing him completely. “Aizen-sama says if you can get outta this and get home you can live, but if I’m honest, I don’t really like your odds-” Gin explained, walking over to the control panel and flicking it on, the machines whirring to life and something rumbling beneath them. 

…Basement. Kaname realized. The boy said there was a basement- there wasn’t one last time?

There was a loud hissing as vents opened and gas streamed out of the floor into the main room, the sickening scent of rotting fruit comingled with melting plastic- The Hollowfication Compound? It’s a gas now!?

The shouting turned to screaming.

Oh God.

The screaming turned to roaring. 

Oh god, no. Please-

“- 'Specially not now.” Gin leered, patting him on the shoulder as he turned to leave. “Bye-Bye!  See you tomorrow-! …Maybe.”

Kaname could hear Gin leaving out the small fire window up at the roofline and he struggled, concentrating his reiatsu in his mouth to speak the counterspell- “-Horses of wind and gale, river of thread- 

-Akishita screamed in the hall, and there was the terrible wet sound of tearing flesh and breaking bones-

“- By Shadow and storm, unbind me!” He hissed, and the spell dissipated with the loud sound of shattering glass. Kaname scrambled to his feet, standing up in time to feel the gaze of ten newly-turned hollows fall upon him. His watch pulsed against his wrist, the timer for 24 hours Going off. 

“Well. I did say it would be over one way or another, didn’t I?” He grimaced, drawing Suzumushi as his former colleagues charged the plate glass that separated them. 

---

Part two approximately whenever I finish it :)

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 2, Poll 8

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Shallan Davar-The Stormlight Archive

Qualifications:

She's bisexual (word-of-god and heavy implication in text) and has DID (clear in the text). Her thirst for both men and women is somewhat legendary, as is her fractured mental state.

Propaganda:

She's bi and has a nuanced representation of DID, along with other mental illness and severe trauma. She's also a rogue-slash-magical-knight with powers of light, illusion, and bad jokes under horrible pressure. She's cute, a great artist, and a great murderer too.

Anything Else?:

There might be other submissions of her (who knows); if they provide different image selections, please refrain from using one where her features look more white than East Asian, as some of the official art is whitewashed, and likewise lots of the fanart. Such is the burden of book fandoms. Anyway, thanks.

Mod Note: we tried to find good images, if anyone has better official art or fanart they would like to share let us know.

Hiccup Haddock-How To Train Your Dragon

Qualifications:

1. The man is missing a leg 2. He's bi in fanon (and in my heart) 3. Blorbo original flavor. Need I say more?

He has a prosthetic leg, and at least in my circles is quite often hcd as bi

Propaganda:

He's so cool. He builds his own prosthetics that interface with the prosthetics he built for his disabled dragon. First viking to ride a dragon. Chief that brought a new era of prosperity to Berk.

Probably one of the most popular physically disabled characters. And although I personally am not disabled, I have heard a bunch of disabled ppl say that they like him as rep. As he pretty much just exists with his disability. It is not ignored. He doesn't not always function the same as people with 2 regular legs. But it is not made into a tragedy. He just has a prosthetic leg after an accident which caused him to loose one. And nobody really makes a big deal out of it, which makes sense in the society they live in. Idk, here's a link to a video discussing the disability representation in httyd: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvwRhb_ocPM

The qualifications and propaganda paragraphs correspond, @flammableengineering is the first submitter.

[arecaceae175]

For Want Of Rest: Ch. 1

FAN JOY JULY!!!!!

Fic Summary: Five times Sky falls asleep somewhere that isn’t a bed plus one time they all do. Or, Sky struggles to manage his disabilities, then the chain has a conversation about accessibility and accommodations.

Fan Joy July! Each chapter is inspired a few amazing art pieces of Sleepy Sky <3. There are plenty more chapters and art inspirations to come :D

Chapter Summary: Sky falls asleep on Time's shoulder in a library. 1.2k, hurt and hurt/comfort.

Inspired by Sky Sleeping by @codyis-not-cool and Sleepy Sky and Time by @luwyv. GO SCREAM ABOUT HOW GOOD THOSE ARTS ARE!!!!!

My favorite things about codyis_not_cool's art are the expression on Sky's face and how colorful the piece is.

Luwyv's art is always so distinctive. I love the way the blorbos are drawn always, and this art makes them look so peaceful! So sweet.

Warnings: descriptions of chronic pain and fatigue, brief vague-ish allusion to an eating disorder

Sky ached. His knees throbbed in time with his back and the bottoms of his feet felt like he was stepping on lava with every step. His eyes were dry and struggling to stay open as pain throbbed behind them, stemming from the base of his neck. His body yearned for nothing more than to find a nice, soft surface and lay down to sleep. 

Sky took another step, ignoring the pain and fatigue that was dragging him down like Time’s or Twilight’s iron boots in water. They didn’t know how much time they had left in this era and they still had a third of the library to go through. Four was sure they would be able to find something here to help their quest against the shadow they were chasing. Everyone else was busy going through the books.

Twilight and Warriors had commandeered a table and had a dozen books between the two of them spread beneath the two lamps. Legend and Four each had a desk of their own and had their books organized into piles. Wild's leg was barely visible hanging off the side of the rafters. Sky wasn't sure how he hadn't dropped any books yet. Time was wandering the library. Wind and Hyrule were retrieving books any of the others asked for, as they both struggled to read dense text. Hyrule still struggled to read at all, but he was improving greatly. Sky felt a burst of pride whenever he saw Hyrule bent over a book practicing his letters. 

They were all pitching in. Sky wasn’t going to be the first one to stop. 

There was a bench at the end of the aisle of books. Sky let out a sigh of relief and walked to the bench as fast as his legs would allow. He all but collapsed onto the bench and let his head fall sideways to rest against the bookcase. Sky controlled his breaths as his hips throbbed with the new pressure. The pain in his knees and feet lessened instantly, going from a sharp pain like a knife in the joint to a more tolerable ache, spreading like fire throughout his limbs. 

“Sky?”

Sky flinched, forcing his back straight and his shoulders down as he pushed himself off the case. He brought one hand up to rub at his dry eyes and blinked at the figure in front of him as his vision slowly returned to focus. “Hm?”

“Are you… alright?” Time asked, voice just a touch too loud for a library. His underclothes hung loosely on his frame. Was he eating enough? Sky should check on that. Warriors would know, but no– asking Warriors about food was an easy way to trigger him. Sky could check himself. 

“Sky?”

“Yeah!” Sky blinked again, and took another deep breath that didn’t quite fill his lungs. It ended in a yawn, aggressive enough that his vision started to go black around the edges. He blinked it away and stabilized himself with one elbow on the armrest. 

Time raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Oh, I’m fine. Just a bit tired, is all.” Sky forced a lazy smile. Time didn’t react at first. His gaze traveled down Sky’s body, and Sky resisted the urge to fidget nervously. He was fine.

Time breathed out harshly through his nose and settled onto the bench next to Sky. Sky looked up in surprise, but Time was already opening his next book. Sky waited for Time to say anything, but he continued to read in silence. 

Eventually, Sky shrugged and pulled the first book off his stack. It was something about theoretical dark magic that he struggled to understand, but Four and Legend had given them all a list of words to look out for. 

“My shoulder might be more comfortable than the bookcase.”

Time’s words broke Sky’s flimsy concentration. Time was still looking at his book, one finger keeping his place across the page as he read. 

“What?” Sky asked. 

Time’s finger paused. He still didn’t look up, but Sky could feel the weight of his attention either way. “Rest your head on my shoulder. The tunic has padding.” 

Embarrassment briefly flared in his chest, but it was quickly overshadowed by the throbbing pain in his neck. Pride be damned, he was tired and everything hurt. Sky scooted over until he was close enough and gently laid his head on Time’s shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable since Sky’s muscles were still so tense. He wasn’t used to physical affection with Time, and he knew Time didn’t usually care for it. 

“This is strange,” Time muttered. Sky burst out laughing, then quickly covered his mouth to stifle the sound. Time’s shoulder bounced as he chuckled lightly. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sky asked.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Get comfortable. Please.”

Time’s finger resumed its slow pace on the page. Sky watched it for a moment, as Time went back and read the same paragraph three times. Sky glanced at the top of the page to find the title: Applied Physics of Temporal Magic. 

The words alone made Sky’s brain hurt. He dug out the book at the bottom of his stack and handed it to Time.

“Here,” Sky said. “This one might be a bit simpler.”

“Thank you,” Time said with clear relief. He pushed the other book off his lap quickly. Sky held back a fond chuckle. 

Sky’s neck twinged with sharp pain. He picked it up with a grimace. Time was taller than him, but not enough to lean comfortably sideways on his shoulder. Sky put his stack of books on Time’s legs so he could push himself around until his back was against Time’s arm and his legs were resting atop the bench’s armrest. He slowly eased his knees straight and adjusted the angle of his hips until his joints didn’t feel the pressure. They still ached– with all the walking they've done in the past week, Sky couldn’t hope for otherwise– but it was bearable. 

Sky opened his mouth to ask for his book just as it appeared in his field of vision. He smiled. 

“Thanks,” Sky muttered. 

Time hummed. 

Sky tried to take another deep breath as he settled the book on his legs. His lungs felt like they didn’t quite know what to do with all the air. His hips throbbed. Frustrated tears gathered behind Sky’s eyes as he prepared himself to adjust his position again. He was just so tired. 

“Here, wait,” Time said. He shifted until Sky’s entire back was supported, leaning back just the right amount to take the pressure off his hips. 

Sky couldn’t bring himself to audibly thank Time. His muscles relaxed, and the fatigue hit him with full force. Against his will, his eyes slid shut. He turned his head so it was resting on Time’s cushioned shoulder in the most comfortable way. Sky rested his hands on his knees so that his fingers hit the top of the book; that way it would at least look like he was reading. 

As Sky faded in and out of a light sleep, voices floated into his mind. They were muffled, like someone was speaking underwater, and he only caught some of the words. 

“... asleep? Good, he must…”

“... stuck here, now…”

“Sleep well, Sky.”

[nephriteknight]

so a while back i made a post about what my blorbos' playstyles would be like in botc/social deduction games in general, and at the time i didn't include tma because they have so much highly specific trauma and dangerous eldritch appetites that this would be terrible for, but i just can't stop thinking about the very silly scenario where the tma characters play botc together. it would go so badly.

the banned character list includes fortune teller, spy, snake charmer, oracle, evil twin, vigormortis, no dashii, pacifist, cannibal, cult leader, fisherman, pixie, golem, plague doctor, organ grinder, and ojo, because elias keeps cheating. ojo and oracle somehow keep ending up in the bag anyway.

daisy gets way too into hunting down the demon. Guns Will Be Drawn.

jon and tim handle this game Extremely Predictably. i just know s1 tim would adore botc but s3 tim is having an awful time. oh great yeah one of our friends is a shape shifting demon lying to our faces? perfect. jon is on the verge of a panic attack but instead of breaking down he's just interrogating everyone very aggressively. hey, at least everyone believes he's on the good team.

basira solves the game right away and spends the rest of the game trying to convince everyone else. only georgie believes her.

martin is very good at being evil in these kinds of games (and also benefits from people not expecting him to be good at it), so when he pulls the demon he could demolish good, but, uh, he's honestly not sure jon could handle that right now so he gets caught on purpose without letting anyone else realize he threw.

elias insisted peter would attend and he did not in fact show. luckily no one believed he would come so it's not really a problem. ("you called it a 'social deduction' game, elias, it's in the name! no i'm not coming--")

...annabelle's the storyteller? i mean. she obviously would if she was there. i feel like sasha gives me st vibes as well but i might just be projecting again.

multiple games are ruined because jon accidentally compels the demon to tell him their role. one of those was not fully an accident.

simon is having a grand old time but he really doesn't give a shit about winning/the game which is less of a problem when he's good but very much a problem for his teammates when he's evil.

melanie draws the psychopath "by chance" several times and enjoys it way too much. daisy handles an outed evil player whom town can't easily execute exactly as poorly as you'd expect. i cannot emphasize enough how unlikely it is that canon team archives could play this game without at least one person getting hurt, killed, or giving in to the dark powers completely.

helen is eating it all up. literally. (elias is still pissed that the spy got banned.) she still never outright lies, which unfortunately for everyone else but fortunately for her (and simon, who thinks its hilarious) means she can't tell outright truths when she's good either or it'll look suspicious when she's evil. no one is ever fully certain what she is or what she's doing. pure chaos and we love her for it. (we being me; team archives does not in fact love her for it.)

elias is still cheating, but when they threaten to fill the room with eyeless dolls he decides to quit while he's (not) ahead and just watch from his office like an eldritch twitch chat.

[johannestevans]

Woe, Boypussy Be Upon Ye: Transing Characters in Fanfic & Fanart

What’s the deal with envisioning your blorbos as transgender?

Originally published in Prism & Pen. Also on my Patreon.

It’s a meme, I made it. Here it is.

It’s been unbelievably positive for me as a trans dude, the change in approach to trans characters in fandom and subsequently in media in general, and I just wanted to write a bit about my experiences with the cultural shift and how positive it’s been for me personally.

What’s weird about people in fandom confidently, nay casually, writing characters as transgender and just having them be a regular dude with a pussy or a regular girl with a dick is that like… I remember when it wasn’t a thing.

Back in 2009, for example, which was a big time for fandom — Superwholock was running rampant, Star Trek (2009) had just gotten a new generation of fans into Trek — or even in 2012, when Les Misérables (2012) had dropped and gotten new people into Les Mis, or when the Hobbit had revamped a lot of interest in Tolkien’s books and the original Lord of the Rings films, not to mention The Hobbit itself, none of this even getting into the Marvel movies, like…

It just. It wasn’t a thing.

Sure, there were transgender characters around, characters that people wrote as trans, but I remember it so strongly as being very niche. It was deep, emotional work where people had to work to “justify” the emotional work they were doing, and even then, they couldn’t just say a character was trans and be chill about it. In order to justify a character being transgender, one had to put in mountains of evidence, or admit the trans perspective was a genderbend of sorts.

For me, I’m pretty sure the moment when things started to change was when I was reading and writing a lot of Loki-centred fanfiction, roundabout 2014–2017 — and the more permissive culture was very much borne of Loki being seen as an exception.

Loki, of the Marvel film and comics, is an alien secretly kidnapped and adopted into the Odinson family, and is known to change his body and appearance frequently, including changing his apparent gender or expression.

He was, in the comic canon (not to mention the original Norse mythologies) quite genderfluid, after all, so even if you didn’t refer to him as explicitly transgender, you could explore him as being some variety of genderfluid, nonbinary, or intersex — as an alien, as a Jötnar as opposed to being AEsir like Thor or Odin, as a god.

But then things changed a bit more.

Welcome to Night Vale, a weird narrative horror podcast, started in 2012, and one thing you could rely on from a lot of fanfics is that people might have weird or alien or otherwise not-not cisgender but not entirely cisgender genitals either. The Magnus Archives, also a narrative horror podcast, started in 2016, and when I got into the fandom in roundabout 2019, which is also when the new Good Omens TV show was due to release and there was a resurgence of interest in the book as well, I remember experiencing a sort of newfound thing where like…

I’d had a mental block around writing many trans characters, before — I could create my own characters who were trans, but a big part of me still felt like I wasn’t allowed to just make a canon character trans if they’d never been mentioned as being trans before or made explicitly trans.

What was it that stopped me?

My own dysphoria? Perhaps a little. Maybe some lacking self-confidence.

Most of all, it just felt as though I couldn’t justify it. I couldn’t justify seeing a cis man written by cis people in a cis show and saying, “Hey, no, he’s like me, actually” — even though I could easily do it about the same character being gay or Jewish or even chronically ill or disabled.

It was like there was a mental block inside me I just couldn’t get past.

I still had a lot of the old online cultural expectations stamped onto me, I think, even being an out trans man who knew many many other trans and intersex and nonbinary people of every gender imaginable in fandom.

I think for Welcome to Night Vale and then especially for The Magnus Archives, part of what made it so easy for people to write and envisage different characters as trans, the fact that there was such limited physical description of characters, the fact that you were attached to them by their voices alone, allowed people to envisage them in whatever way they liked.

In The Magnus Archives, most of the main characters are envisaged as trans in one way or another — Daisy Tonner particularly is explored with all flavours of butch dykey complexity, trans in whichever ways or directions are juiciest and most interesting. But for so many of the characters — from Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood to Sasha James and Tim Stoker to Elias Bouchard to Peter Lukas to any of the other Entities — there is no end to the characters people will explore or envisage as trans or nonbinary or just straight-up outside of gender or gender-weird.

No one has to justify a period character being trans with no problems. Loads of people write Izzy Hands or Stede Bonnet or Edward Teach, as being trans in Our Flag Means Death alongside the canonic nonbinary character Jim Jimenez. Any and all characters, trans or otherwise, are invited to participate in ye olde top surgery performed by Roach, the ship’s surgeon, or somehow get hold of ye olde hormones in whatever handwavy way necessary, and it’s cool and fine.

And what’s wonderful for me is the way I see the current approach to trans characters gleefully and delightedly applied to fandoms that are years if not decades old.

I see people write House MD fanfic now where they just go, right from the beginning, yeah this or that character is trans, and they’ve always been trans, and it’s chill. What if James Wilson was trans? It’d rock, that’s what. What if Greg House was trans? Yeah, he’d probably do his own T-shots under the table.

People write Spock as trans now, or guys from M*A*S*H, or Jean Valjean.

What if in the X-Files Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were T4T? Makes complete sense, and also, the idea fucks absolutely. They’re already so lesbian vibes for each other, it fits perfectly.

I wrote a silly little Tumblr post a few weeks ago envisioning Morticia and Gomez Addams as T4T, and it blew up immediately — I think about how if I’d made that most a decade ago it would have been met with crickets, if not a bit of scorn, and not just from transphobes, but just people who like me at that time hadn’t been able to relax and have fun with it.

That’s the real crux of the matter, the impact a lot of fandom has made on me and the way that trans characterisation is approached, the hunger I have for trans characterisation now — it’s the idea of being trans as joyful and delightful, as inherently fun and sexy, but also just as being something every day and normal. A detail you can include as casually in your interpretation of a canon character as any other headcanon.

There’s a beautiful freedom in it, and I’m so grateful to have been able to learn from and grow because of other trans people paving the way with their confident headcanons and delving into trans ideas in their fic.

It’s done wonders for me everywhere — not just in my fanfic, but most of all in the original works I pen now, each one of them featuring trans character after trans character.

[perpetualexistence]

Specter of Obsession: A g/t Alenoaheather AU

So, I recently read a fic by @kijosakka called breathe you in my lungs and make you mine. It has codependent and obsessive Alenoaheather in a way that's just peak writing and I'll recommend it to anyone who loves exploring the darker side of their blorbos:

It gave me so much brainrot that I managed to come up with my own spin on obsessive Alenoaheather. That involves giant/tiny. Because I couldn't help myself. I'm putting it under a read more for those who don't want to see more psychological fics/aus. But yeah, enjoy reading about Noah getting the attention of a much larger Heather and Alejandro, and having to deal with that!

So this AU's got the equivalent of wolfwalkers. Except instead of having a wolf that comes out of you while you sleep, you get a giant ghost. While in that ghost form they can't be seen by anyone except for others also in their ghost form. They can also be intangible at will. Let's call them specters.

How does one become/gain a specter?

There are three requirements:

Having an obsession

Acknowledging it as obsession

Choosing to pursue it rather than make peace with it

After that last point, one's obsession becomes simply too large for their human body to hold. So they manifest a specter that contains all of their most obsessive and possessive tendencies so their human body can be more at peace.

In the beginning, Heather and Alejandro only meet the first requirement. They're both obsessed with status, but thanks to their upbringing they just thought it was a part of life rather than an obsession they were pursuing.

When they meet and see each other as equals, they become obsessed with each other. As they're obsessed each of them was restless/felt like something was wrong/missing.

All they knew was that the only solution seemed to be growing even more obsessed, so they kept letting themselves do that.

The moment that solidifies their transformation is when they do confess that they're in love with each other.

For the average person, that might have been enough to satisfy their obsession since now they can be at peace with their love.

But not these two. They've fallen in just as much love with the chase, with their rivalry, as they have with each other. They're too ambitious and stubborn to let that obsession go. And now that they know for a fact that the other feels the same way?

It creates this positive feedback loop of obsession. That's the night each of them wakes up massive outside of their bodies the second they go to sleep. They're large enough to grab a person in wrap their hand around their entire body with little effort. They only have one instinct driving them that prevents them from completely freaking out at this new situation.

Find your love, and be with them always.

They're both keeping this hidden because specters are usually 'kill on sight' for humans due to how dangerous they can be. Which means they can't do anything too obvious…buuuuut that doesn't mean they can't find ways to cause havoc/ruin lives while keeping their size hidden. The two are drunk on power and very addicted to it and each other.

Along comes Noah, who they fully intended on just having him be another one of their victims to discard once they were bored of him. They start messing with him when they get back home from school and rest…but he's a lot more perceptive than they give him credit for. They see that he's not attributing a shattered lightbulb or an unfortunate incident of 'bad luck' as weird accidents. He starts looking around everywhere when it happens. He's looking up.

And that's absolutely exhilarating that someone is growing wise to their tricks. To have someone search desperately for them. They stop their other nightly schemes and immediately pour all of their focus onto toying with Noah. He constantly has large shadows looming over him but can never see their source. When he's inside, there's loud tapping at the windows, strong enough to shake the window frames. Noah can feel two separate gazes on him: one icy, one hot enough to make him sweat.

It's exhilarating, to know how much power they hold over him and yet don't use against him. They could do so much worse, and part of him wants to see them try. He can handle anything they have to throw at him.

Noah doesn't tell anyone about the two specters he suspects are stalking him. Instead he decides to investigate to figure out who they truly are. It leads Alejandro and Heather to follow him even when they're just human to see how close he's getting to them. He's not going to any authorities about this, and that's so very telling. He eventually gets to a point where he's bold enough to quip at them while they're invisible and large. He wants to know what they're after, and at this point he's run out of other ideas. Besides, the temptation to poke the sleeping lions to see what they'll do is too strong for him to resist forever

Everything stops. He's worried that acknowledging their existence might have been a step too far. This only gets confirmed when he feels something suddenly holding his arms and legs to his sides and is lifted high off the ground. The fear overtakes him as he desperately tries to struggle out of this iron grip.

Only to feel a large, soft wall suddenly press against his face. Hard. It feels like someone is attempting to suffocate him with the largest, warmest pillow they could find. Trying to breathe only invites the wall to press further against him.

He's suddenly freed of the wall, only to feel himself jostle as the other ghostwalker has now stolen him away to do the same thing. They do it for just as long before allowing him the chance to breathe.

He gets to take in a single gulp of air before suddenly he's being pressed from both sides. It's like two weighted blankets have decided to cocoon him in their embrace. He's given a chance to breathe before he's enveloped in their warmth again. And again. And again. The two specters only seem to get more violent, more desperate in their assault each time.

Until Noah lets out a genuine yelp of pain. The assault stops immediately. Only to return, much gentler this time.

It feels like it lasts an eternity. It feels like it's only been a few moments. Until finally, he's slowly lowered to the ground. The iron grip on him releases as he swears he can hear giggling and chuckling. He can feel the ground quake as the two of them decide to let their footsteps be felt, though neither is to be seen. Their footsteps fade away. Noah is left disheveled and shaking.

His only regret is that he'd been so shocked he hadn't even thought to kiss them back.

The pattern continues day after day. He never had to wait too long after school had ended before he'd be picked up and carried off somewhere more private. They always waited for him to be alone. He started intentionally seeking out places without people to lure them out faster. They'd tease him, bat him around, and kiss him.

Oh, how they'd always kiss him. Once one of them got started, it always turned into an aggressive assault until they were satisfied. Any attempt at struggle only encouraged them to kiss harder and faster. They loved feeling him squirm. They were spoiling him rotten with affection.

Oh how it made him crave more. He struggled on purpose to rile them up. Once their kisses got aggressive enough, he would sneak his own kisses back. There was no way to tell who he was kissing, or if they could even feel it. It encouraged him all the more.

They would always release him. Eventually. He'd return home and get some actual studying in before turning to bed.

Sometimes they would be cruel enough to drag him out of bed and out the window. They'd go for round two before allowing him to sleep.

They would even go for at least one more round. His only evidence of this would be dreams of pillows and waking up to an open window and things strewn about his room.

Those nights were the best sleep he could ever remember. He was desperate to hunt down his secret admirers. If only to satisfy his own curiosity. He was sure he was getting close, and he did have his suspicions about Alejandro and Heather. But he still didn't have anything concrete.

He couldn't let them know if he ever did find them out. There was no telling what they would do if they knew he was aware of their identity. He didn't want to risk them stopping.

Until the day the routine broke. He waited in an alley after school. Nothing. He went home, constantly checking for signs of them on his trip. Nothing. He studied, he went to bed, he faked being asleep. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

This could just be a one night event. They could just be drawing this out to make it all the more passionate the next night. Or maybe they could have just decided they were bored with him and would move on to the next person. It was the most ideal scenario. He'd finally have peace.

Except he didn't want them to stop. He wanted them to keep going.

No. He needed them to keep going.

My god.

He needed them.

Heather and Alejandro came back to school the next day exhausted. Neither had been able to get any rest thanks to their families. They'd pulled all-nighters, and worse, they hadn't been able to spend a moment of time with the ones they loved most.

When they saw each other during school, the first thing they did was run to a secluded part of the school to make out. Once they'd satisfied their pent up frustration, they went to go check in on Noah.

He wasn't in his regular spot. They went to ask Noah's friends, but none of them had seen or heard anything from Noah since yesterday.

Had they pushed Noah too far? Was he furious? Was he merely sick, or was something else at play? Was he taking their one day of reprieve to run, or try to get rid of them? He better not dare. He was THEIRS and they'd do whatever necessary to prove it.

A sense of foreboding washed over the two. They felt as if someone were observing their every move as if they were under a microscope. They went through the rest of the school day, though they could barely concentrate.

They practically burst out of school the second it was done. They gathered next to Alejandro's car. He'd made a habit of parking it farther away from the school in a secluded alley. It also meant he could get away with taking a quick nap in the car. He hated waiting to drive back home to mess with Noah. For now, it served the benefit of talking away from others.

They would go to sleep, grow, and separate so they could hunt Noah down as efficiently as possible. Alejandro put his key into the door while Heather began to turn away.

A sharp, warm breeze hit their faces the moment they exchanged their goodbyes. It was enough to cause pause. It was February.

Alejandro's car began to move away from him. The wheels were unmoving. It slid 10 feet away, almost gliding along the asphalt, before stopping.

Just as they were putting the puzzle pieces together, the two were suddenly shoved into each other. Hard. Their faces were pushed together for a forced kiss. The grip was so tight it was as if something were trying to force them to meld into each other as one.

Someone didn't like them separated.

Someone didn't like breaks in routine.

Someone was starving for the affection he'd been denied.

Noah didn't bother with starting off gentle. He kissed them both at the same time with the same intensity they usually reserved for the end of their sessions. He kept going over and over. It wasn't as if they couldn't handle it.

He slowed only when his misplaced fury was quelled. His kisses grew softer. It was the closest thing to an apology they'd get from him.

At the final kiss, he gently set them down next to Alejandro's car. He'd had his fun making them squirm both with his absence and under his gaze the entire day. It was well worth the blemish in his attendance record.

Though they couldn't see it, his manic grin matched their own as they looked up to where they suspected him to be.

"I expect you to return the favor tonight."

[transmascswagpolls]

Transmasc Swag Polls- ROUND 1

Propaganda and other info under the cut.

CANONICITY LEVELS-

BOW: Subtext/ Coded (liked by the creator, but he has stated that he won't confirm anything because retroactively making something canon makes him uncomfortable) DIRK: Subtext/ Coded (so heavily that the author tried- and failed- to kill the headcanon in extended media)

MEDIA? She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Homestuck (and other related media) BOW PROPAGANDA- He's shown bathing in something that looks a lot like a binder, is included in the princesses group as the only man* and there's a whole episode that is constructed as a coming out allegory- Bow has to tell his dads he's a warrior and not a researcher/historian and has been lying to them about what he's been up to. The creator has stated he didn't intend for Bow to be read as trans but does like the headcanon. *Seahawk is also there but more as support to Mermista, Bow is integrated in the group from the beginning and even points out how "he's the only one here who's not a princess". He's one of the coolest characters and a great inventor, archer and best friend of Glimmer and Adora. Bow is such a great example of healthy masculinity, always ready to defend people in need but never aggressive or confrontational. His love of short shirts is so iconic he even cut his space suit to show off a bit of his belly- we love a guy dedicated to his fashion sense. DIRK PROPAGANDA- One of the last two humans on earth, the only source of how to be a human for the first like, ten years of his life until he meets Roxy is all the shit his Bro left for him and the archive of the internet. He decides he's not a fan of all the shit that's considered "girly" in the 2010s and 2020s bc he wants to be just like his Bro, so he's transmasc not bc of societal expectations but bc that's just what he's comfortable with. [Pollrunner's Note: I will not even pretend that I'm not biased here. Dirk is the character that cracked my egg so hard that I couldn't deny that I was trans anymore. He's a canonically gay boy handled with an extreme amount of grace in an era of media where that was completely unheard of, retroactively making one of the most popular and masculine adults in the entire comic gay as well, since it is revealed that they are one and the same. There's an entire passage in the comic in his and Roxy's introductions joking about chromosomes, textually making an observation that he and Roxy are in a 'reverse adam and eve situation'. He cares so, so much about his friends but is incapable of expressing those feelings because he's afraid that by his very nature as a person that he is both corrupting them and doesn't deserve them. Dirk's story has a lot to do with abuse, emotional neglect, and what it means to feel like you're fundamentally a bad person but living every day trying to break that cycle regardless. Textually he was based off of (accidentally and then later an intentional deconstruction of) Gurren Lagann's Kamina, a character I have described as the "platonic ideal of masculinity". The way he was written in postcanon lead to feelings so strong that I ended up having a conversation known as the "Dirk Rant" that my brother claims "changed the way he viewed media forever". He is THE transmasc blorbo of all time to a majority of the Homestuck fandom.]

[steddieunderdogfics]

For the hurt/comfort weekend, may I suggest the ongoing fic “count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat.” By WingedQuill!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42662157

The summary: “Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them.

Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR.”

Steve is hurt super badly, and the party, Hopper, and Eddie (including Wayne and the Corroded Coffin guys) are there for him ❤️

count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat by WingedQuill

Rating: Mature

48,013 words, 17/? chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, (really ao3 is "CPR" too basic of a tag for you?), Post-Season/Series 02, Hurt Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, the intimate rituals of saving your unattainable crush's life, the intimate rituals of murdering your rival in the locker room, Attempted Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, rip steve's hair i should tag this fic MCD for that alone, Whump, this probs counts as whump let's be real, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, i continue my Branding(tm) of cutting off all my blorbos' hair, watch out trevor belmont ur next, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast

Summary:

Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them. Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR. (Or: There is a clearly defined set of steps to keep someone's heart beating. There's no guide for the aftermath. Steve, Eddie, and everyone they love write one together.)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Hurt/Comfort.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[starleska]

i’ve got a british silly horror guy to recommend… the michael distortion from the magnus archives!!!! since it’s a podcast he doesn’t really have a visual design except for some descriptions but the fanart is wonderful!!!! ALSO HIS LAUGH?!?!

😳😳😳 oh. oh God hold ON a sec-!!!!!

screaming and gripping you by the collar. ooooh you are one of a NUMBER of people who have begged me to continue listening to The Magnus Archives, and now you've got me sorely tempted 🙈💖 i listened to a few episodes years ago and really enjoyed it, but i think with all the World Events Occurring it just slipped from my focus!!!

but wow, Michael is something else...😳 you know me well and have excellent taste 👉👈 i ADORE that his laugh somehow sounds like a spiral?! and the fanart for him is absolutely nuts, so so creative!! all those fan designs kick so much ass...as a Welcome to Night Vale veteran, it's a lot of fun being in a fandom with more room for creativity...you've very much piqued my interest, you bastard 😂😂 on the other side of that, i have a dear friend who insists to me i would rather like Simon Fairchild...took one listen to his voice and nearly got knocked out because of how similar he sounds to the Sixth Doctor 🙈💖💖💖 seems like The Magnus Archives is a great place to pick up blorbos, eh? i will definitely start listening again soon...and am always open to more suggestions from the podcast 😉 great ask, thanks so much!! :3c