#Unrelated but those backgrounds??? pain

[bluehattedapprentice]

What if before he went to America, Luke somehow travels back in time 3 years, the day before he meets his mentor Professor Layton with all the memories of what happens after?

Introducing my timeloop au! where Luke is stuck going back in time 3 years the day he was to go over to America several times and promptly tries to "fix" things that had gone wrong originally. Unfortunately for him fixing one problem leads to others being formed and after a mistake gone wrong on his 5th loop- Luke decides it's time to put an end to it once and for all.

[agustdiv1ne]

𖤐⋆°·.3:13 a.m. (m) — choi beomgyu

genre: smսt (mdni! ageless blogs dni!!), vampire boyfriend!beomgyu, fem!human!reader, mc gets her period, oral (f receiving), bloodplay (ig), i would say i'm sorry but i'm not <3

wc: 3.2k

beomgyu awakes to the smell of blood flooding his nostrils.

bleary eyes snap open as he shakes himself from his suspended state of consciousness, only for him to squint at the glaring crimson numbers of the alarm clock sitting upon the nightstand. it's terribly early. early enough that the stars still glitter against the sable background of the sky outside, early enough that this particular bedroom of his manor remains bathed in darkness. the dimness of the room, however, proves to be no issue for beomgyu's enhanced sight; he watches as your chest rises and falls in steady succession, your sleeping form blissfully unaware of his current predicament. 

oh god, it's you. the blood is yours. the sweet, saliva-inducing perfume of the crimson ichor overwhelms your typically clean, subtle scent; and yet according to his keen senses, the aroma is richer this time, somehow. more potent — he has not smelt anything as addicting in decades. it makes it all the easier for him to want to give into the primal urge to absolutely devour you, to feed and feed and fucking feed from your pretty little neck until he’s sated and you’re halfway brainless. with a jerky shake of his head, he pushes those instincts swirling in his chest into a dark corner of his mind. he’d never feed from you without your permission. he’s not like that; no, he’s not like his former coven that would hunt defenseless humans like you for sport, taking turns drinking from the victim’s body until their veins ran dry. no, he is far from being like them. he loves you, and he’d never do anything that could hurt you.

another wave of sweet iron wafts into his nose, and he exhales sharply, sitting up against the headboard. shit, he really should leave. he should run far away until he can no longer smell you, but he remains frozen in place. sitting there, he takes in how you begin to curl in on yourself, your brows furrowing as if you're in pain. the sight snaps him out of his bloodlust-induced daze, blinking hard when you groan and turn away from him on the bed, your arms wrapped around your midsection — cramps. you’re cramping.

blood, cramping…oh, beomgyu realizes, your period must have started.

the two of you are typically more careful than this, tracking your cycle and ensuring that he is far, far away when it inevitably does hit you. perhaps you’ve both become too complacent in your safety measures after being together so long. it’s easy to forget that he could pose a threat to you when he’s never given you a reason to fear him. he is considered a monster by many, yes, but not by you — and that’s all that really matters to him. besides, beomgyu likes to think he could control himself no matter what, especially when it comes to you and your safety; but when he looks down to his hands, he finds that the fabric of the comforter has been torn open due to his unrelenting grip. his eyes squeeze shut. he needs to leave. he needs to leave right now. you’re too tempting, too testing for his natural instincts. run. run far away before he loses control.

rolling over, your head lands on his lap, arms curling around his left leg as you nuzzle your nose into the smooth skin of his thigh. it’s stronger now, that overwhelming scent. he feels like there’s a frog stuck in his throat, ice in his veins — he needs to get out of here. right fucking now. gently, he tries to peel your body from his, but your arms have become vines, curled tightly around his leg, the side of his knee pressed into the valley between your breasts. they curl tighter as he tries to slip his hands beneath them, but he refuses to use the full extent of his strength on you. 

“baby,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder only to receive no response. he grits his teeth together, he gulps, he tries again. “baby, wake up. you need to let go.”

you let out a sleepy mumble of his name, hooded eyes just beginning to focus as you look up at him. slowly, you take in the stiffness in his posture, his fleeting gaze illuminated by the moonlight. frowning, you set your chin on his thigh, eyes fluttering to a close once again. “what’s going on?”

“i need to leave, darling,” he grits out — he wants to bite you. he can’t bite you. he can’t. he fucking won’t. 

any fatigue remaining in your body drains from your system the moment he utters those words, worry flooding your veins in its wake. you sit up, arms curling around yourself as you lean closer to him, barely registering the pain in your abdomen. his eyes squeeze shut, dark brows furrowing as he shifts away. “why? did something happen? are you in danger—”

how are you so selfless? why, of all things, is the first thing that comes to your mind is his safety? you’re the one that may be in danger here, and he is the reason why you might be. 

you’re on his lap now, hands sliding over the planes of his face and down to cup his jaw. “gyu, c’mon. why do you need to leave?”

his eyes glint red before returning back to normal, razor-sharp fangs elongating before retracting again. his hands remain by his side while he shakes his head, gripping the sheets so cruelly that the threads are on the verge of tearing. now that your legs are parted, he can barely think straight. he needs to taste you, he has to—

“your period just started.”

his voice has lowered to a snarl, resounding from deep within his chest and straight into the pit that has opened up in your stomach. restraint pulls his words taut, hungry, feral — he needs something. he needs blood. you know he’s been depriving himself lately, though you’re unsure why, but now…now feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you with this divine timing. at the sound of another feral groan passing from his lips, you freeze. the fingers brushing over his jaw tense up, pressing into his skin ever so slightly, your voice whisper-quiet. breathy, shock coating each word, “oh. oh shit, um. i’m so sorry, i didn’t. i thought i had another week until—”

your attempt at climbing off of his lap proves to worsen the situation. in the blink of an eye, he’s grabbed ahold of your hips, halting your movements. crimson tinges the edges of his irises, fangs poking out from his upper lip as he pants. “don’t move. please don’t move. i don’t want—fuck, i don’t want to hurt you, baby, please.” 

you sit there for a moment, taking in his pained grimace. he’s fighting himself, he’s fighting every single primal instinct within him telling him to pounce, yet his terribly gentle fingers pressing into your hips indicates that he is still in full control. it’s okay, you think. you’d be okay if he fed.

fingers sliding down to his shoulders, you squeeze. “gyu, you need blood. i know you’re hungry, and it’s okay. i don’t mind.” 

in response, he shakes his head. “no, i can’t. i might hurt you, i can’t.”

your lips purse. what could you do? you’re stuck here, in the precarious position, with no clear way out. figure something out, come on. deep breath. in, out. in, out.

suddenly, an idea unearths itself within the walls of your mind, blooms like the moonflowers that so easily captures your attention when you go on walks with your lover. he doesn’t have to feed in the typical way. he could…oh, he could…

“you don’t have to feed from me, baby,” you coo, watching as his eyes flutter open and meet yours. vermillion now, not one speck of brown in sight. with a gentle, encouraging smile, a hand comes up to swipe through his hair. he shivers at the contact, but you can tell he’s still there. he’s still your gyu, hungry or not. in silence, you take the hand that still holds your left hip and guide it down to the apex of your thighs, allowing his fingers to brush over your panty-clad core. “just…taste me from here.”

he inhales sharply at the contact, at your words, wrenching his arm away. his other hand leaves you completely, palms dragging over his face as he attempts to compose himself. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to take the offer, just take the offer and eat you out — you want it, he really wants it… 

“i can’t,” he chokes out from behind his hands. with a sigh, you shift your face closer to his, grabbing his wrists to remove his hands. he lets you, he always lets you. his eyes remain closed this time, but you work with it; you know he can hear your heartbeat and the rustling of your shirt, smell your sweetness, feel the warmth radiating off of your face as you press a peck to his cheek.

“i trust you,” you whisper against the corner of his lips. he whispers out a weak refusal, and you shift against him, just a tiny motion of your hips that causes him to hiss. lower lip wobbling, his hands find your hips once more, eyes silently pleading with you to quit moving before he loses it. as you cup his cheeks, you tilt your head. “i know, baby. i know you don’t want to hurt me — and you won’t, i know you won’t. but don’t you want a taste? it smells good, doesn’t it? there’s nothing stopping you from taking what you need.”

his resolve crumbles before your very eyes as you continue to encourage him. he doesn’t even need to bite you, it’ll be okay, you’ll be safe. it’ll feel good for you too, rid you of your cramps in the process — doesn’t he want to help you feel better? you’ll both feel better if he does this. 

that’s enough for his composure to splinter, cracks forming and spreading like the roots of a tree until it shatters. there’s little holding him back as he flips you onto your back, him towering over you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. pausing, he stares down at you, voice barely louder than a whisper. “tell me to stop.” 

“i don’t want you to,” you murmur back. “take what you need.”

that’s all he needs to hear.

his fangs glint under the moonlight as he swoops in to capture your lips, aggressive, tongue slinking its way past your lips to curl with your own. the kiss itself doesn’t last long, not when one of his fangs slices into your lip, pulling a squeal from you. easily, he tongue locates the wound, laves over it as blood bubbles up to the surface of the flesh. he moans against your mouth at the taste. the sting subsides as the wound closes, and he pulls away. 

“need more,” beomgyu rasps. he’s wide-eyed, on the verge of absolute ruin, but you love seeing him like this. you crave to see him lose control. you are not the glass doll he’s made you out to be. you can take it, you can take him, and he needs to realize that sooner or later — preferably now. 

so you open your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips, watch as his eyes roll back into his head, and say, “then have more.”

your panties are torn away from your center with ease, and while he can’t technically die, beomgyu thinks that this might just be the nail in his metaphorical coffin. with the barrier of clothes now eliminated, your scent is no longer obstructed, and you smell absolutely fucking divine. his head spins, nose filled with base notes of iron and sugar and a richness that he’s never experienced before. oh. oh fuck, he’s done for. 

sliding down your body until he’s settled between your legs, he holds you open and takes in how blood drips from your fluttering hole. you’re aroused, that much he can tell, and it excites that untamed side of him that he constantly tries to tuck away. it’s out in full force right now, and he doesn’t have it in him to hide it anymore, not when you smell like this, not when your blood is right there for the taking, especially not when you’re inviting him to taste with that sweet little voice of yours, breathy and needy and wanton, pleading for him to touch you. 

and fuck, he can’t take it anymore.

he doesn’t buy time with teasing your thighs like he usually does whenever he eats you out — no, he goes in straight for the kill, tongue licking a strip up your pussy, his groans reverberating against your clit as your saccharine blood hits his taste buds. he doesn’t pull away to comment, but you know just by the way his tongue slips into your hole that he likes what he finds. sometimes, you forget that your lover is no longer human — until these moments in which you are brutally reminded, his tongue extending far into your walls as he gives in to his basest desires. you cry out as the muscle curls up against the spongy spot inside you, thighs closing around his head, but not for long; fingers curl under your thighs, spreading you open for him as he removes his tongue from your entrance, beginning to lick your folds, your inner thighs, cleaning up the blood that has found its way there. his tongue does not slowly savor your skin. rather, he laps at you like a starved man, pulling you closer and closer to his face. if he were human, you’d be worried if he could breathe. 

this must be heaven, he thinks, as he returns back to your folds, tongue swirling around your entrance, his nose bumping against your weeping pearl while his tongue explores your walls as deep as his fingers could go. the sensation is far different from fingers, however — hotter, wetter, you can feel his desperation with every lick and drag, the roughness stimulating every single nerve ending it touches. his hands hold your hips up, holding you as close as possible as he shoves his tongue deeper, the tip of his nose now grinding against your clit. 

“g-gyu! fuck, oh my god, gyuuu!” you repeat over and over again, feeling your high approach. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter, and you reach down to rub your clit with sloppy circles. beomgyu growls at this. he knows you’re close, he knows so well, and he wants to get you there. he needs you to experience the nirvana he has reached right now — he needs you right here with him. 

his tongue leaves your hole again, but the aching emptiness is quickly remedied with three fingers filling you to the brim. back arching, you plead for mercy, for him to let you cum, for anything. please, god, you’ll take anything. he finds your bud, suckling it between his lips, moans muffled against your core and the knot pulls tighter and tighter and the fire rushing through your veins grows white hot—

the knot snaps.

“fu-uckkk!” you scream, voice cracking as your vision spots white, pleasure rushing through every crevice of your body, thighs quaking and back arching and hands finding hair and yanking. your body feels like it’s floating, the waves of pure bliss unending as he continues his ministrations, removing his fingers so he can revel in the taste of your sweet, sweet blood that gushes from your hole. unable to come down, you remain in the throes of pleasure even as he flips the both of you over, your thighs now cushioning his head as you sit atop his face.

you gasp at the position, his eyes now glowing a bright scarlet in the darkness as he looks up at you. you’ve never seen such a shade on him, and arousal sparks in your stomach once again. “gyu, what—”

“more, need more,” he grunts out, now tracing your folds with his tongue. your gyu is still there, just…hungrier, frantic for more. 

if he could taste this for the rest of his life, he would never tire.

“gyu, i don’t— ohhh, shit!” your voice pitches up as he begins to lap at your core, little in his mind other than taking and taking until he’s sated and full. your clit aches with overstimulation, your walls quivering with each pass of his eager tongue as he holds you against him. soon enough, your torso collapses into the mattress, sheets curled between your fingers while you whimper, sweat beading across your heated skin. you can’t. you can’t cum again, and you tell him this again and again, yet he doesn’t heed your cries, building you up and making you cum on his tongue again and again until you can’t even think. your words are incoherent, garbled and tearful against the sheets, begging for him to let up.

“baby, baby i can’t,” you sob as you reach what you think is your fifth orgasm. “gyu!”

finally — fucking finally — he lets up, helps you ride out your high before slipping out from between your thighs. helping you onto your back, he holds your face between his palms, a small trace of blood from his fingers staining your cheek. your blood covers the majority of his lower face, smeared across his chin and lips and even a little on the tip of his nose. if you had enough energy to, you would laugh at the sight. 

“gonna go clean up real quick, okay? i’ll be right back,” he murmurs, squeezing your cheeks when you nod. he’s back within mere seconds, irises now back their normal umber and fangs retracted, no longer more animal than human, no traces of your blood on his face anymore.

“you okay?” he asks softly, smiling when you offer a lethargic nod. he climbs over you, sliding his lips over yours, wet, languid kisses exchanged as he slides his hands up and down your sides. “y���did so well for me, darling. thank you for trusting me.”

“told you it would be worth it,” you shoot back, tiredly giggling when his eyes narrow. 

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replies, eyes softening around the edges as he drinks you in, every curve and edge — perfect. you are perfect to him. hands slides up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you wanna take a bath, love?”

leaning up, you give him a small peck. “that sounds wonderful.”

as beomgyu gathers you in his arm, commenting how he should just burn these sheets since they’re basically ruined, you find yourself thinking that there’s no one else that you would rather spend the rest of your life with — the rest of eternity with, if he’ll allow it. for now, however, you’ll let him tend to you in the bath, pressing butterfly kisses to your neck from behind as you bask in each other’s presence, the sky outside fading from a deep black into a muted azure. 

for now, this is enough.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[juliaia]

Rainy Nights in Hell's Kitchen

—————————————————————

Summary: You’ve been dating Matt for about a year—you always sleep better when you’re with him.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, fluff, overuse of em-dashes.

A/N: This is super short and sweet, but I wanted to try writing for Matty. Totally feel free to request stuff if you enjoy, but I post fics at random whenever the urge strikes, so I’m not like an “official tumblr fanfic person” or whatever—but I sure am here!

—————————————————————

It was a dark and stormy night—and usually you wouldn’t mind that. The rain is pretty peaceful, and with the windows open you can catch the cool night air and the smell of petrichor on the breeze.

But today has been long and tiring, and lately you’ve been having really vivid, unpleasant nightmares.

You’ve kept them mostly to yourself, tying them to the general stress of day-to-day life and maybe a dash of unresolved trauma—but they’re just nightmares. They’re silly, and you are definitely not afraid to go to bed tonight in your own room in the dark, with the occasional, startling boom of loud thunder in the background.

The fact that you immediately answer a much too eager, “yes”, when Matt asks if you want to stay over at his apartment is totally unrelated.

So now, you’re sitting in the bathroom with Matt, getting ready for bed.

He looks so damn pretty in the slightly dim lighting. His face is cast in a soft glow, his bare chest is looking like a very warm, very comfortable pillow, his sweats are fitting him very nicely and making his butt look exceptionally cute—but to be fair, he always looks sinfully good. You’re pretty sure you could watch him just exist for hours on end.

You see a grin creep onto his face as he feels your eyes on him.

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” He says, pushing his hand through his hair as he turns towards you and holds out a hand. You take it, and he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Just watching you. You’re pretty.” You say. His grin softens to something less mischievous and more fond and sweet, and he leans in again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re prettier.” He murmurs—he’s got this shamelessly lovesick look on his face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Says the blind man.” He gives your hand a playful squeeze.

“I can still tell you’re pretty—ready for bed?” He asks. You hesitantly nod.

“Uh, yeah, alright.” He raises an eyebrow.

“…You’re usually more enthusiastic about sleeping.” You sigh, the two of you walking over to settle into bed on top of the cool silk sheets.

“I’ve just been having weird, bad dreams.” You explain. Matt’s face goes all soft and sympathetic.

If there is one thing Matt is, it’s protective. Which is usually sweet, but occasionally overdramatic to the point of hilarity. For example—two weeks ago, you got a papercut while opening a package (one of those awful cardboard-paper-cuts), and the moment Matt heard you let out that little hiss of frustration and pain, he came rushing over to fuss over you, face painted with concern as he took your hand and frantically examined the wound. It’s especially funny considering how he insists you don’t need to worry about him when he shows up at 3 in the morning after patrol, bleeding from a stab wound in his side, or on the verge of passing out from a concussion.

So, you mention the nightmares, and Matt goes all soft, pulling you against his chest, holding you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Oh, angel, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You shrug.

“Eh, you’ve got other stuff on your plate—they’re just nightmares.” Matt shakes his head, nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply.

“They’re upsetting you, and ruining your sleep.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

“Matty, babydoll—“ He cuts you off by pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours, his warm eyes unfocused and unseeing but somehow still so damn emotional.

“Sweetheart,” He says. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you, please?”

Dammit—Matt and his stupid puppy dog eyes. That sweet soft sad look he gives you, the pleading, pouty face, his pretty pink lips and big dumb wet eyes. You relent, sighing in defeat, and he grins, pulling you into his arms, kissing your cheek, and dragging you to bed, laying down with you.

“I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You grumble, folding yourself into his arms, smushing up against his chest. He rubs your back, holding you close. “Nothing gets to ruin your sleep except for me.” He says. You snort, giving his bicep a squeeze–oh those wonderful thick arms of his.

“Dork.” He pulls you over, tucking you against his chest for a cuddle. He nuzzles his face against the top of your head.

“I’m here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. No nightmares.” He says. You smile, hand finding his, fingers lacing through his own.

“I don’t know if you have any control over what I dream about, but I appreciate it anyway.” You say. Matt yawns softly, kissing your temple.

“I’m just gonna hold you so tight the nightmares won’t be able to get you.” He loves having you so close, loves being able to protect you and cuddle up with you to sleep. He presses his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, letting out a happy growl. You reach back to ruffle his hair.

“Thanks, Matty.” You murmur. He nods, kissing your cheek.

Curled up in his arms, you fall asleep easier. The rain falls outside, soft pitter patters on the window panes as Matt’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up at two in the morning, hands gripping the sheets, Matt wakes up with you, pulling you closer and kissing your temple, hands coming up to rub your shoulders.

“Hey angel, you’re okay. I’m here.” You push yourself further into his arms, body shaking slightly as you wrap your arms around his arm, holding it against your chest. “I’m here.” He rubs your chest, hand drawing soothing circles against you. “What can I do to help, hm?”

You just push yourself closer to him, and he settles you into his lap, shushing you gently and kissing the top of your head. He holds you tightly, hand gently rubbing over your racing heart in a gesture he hopes is grounding and comforting.

You tuck your face against his warm neck, inhaling the scent of him, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. He chuckles, hand coming to cup your cheek, his face tilting down and his nose nudging against yours. You wrap your arms around him, too tired and shaken up to be embarrassed about seeking him out for comfort. He cuddles you against him, laying back with you against his chest.

You’re quickly lulled back to sleep by the soothing sounds of his breathing and heartbeat, and after that, you sleep solidly through the night without any issues. Matt’s warm arms wrapped around you, blankets cozy and soft, the rain and thunder outside becoming gentle background noise.

In the morning, Matt wakes you up with a few soft kisses on the temple, stirring you to consciousness, drawing a little grumble from you. He chuckles, rubbing your back gently.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” He pecks you on the lips. You hide your face against his chest, trying to block out the light from the window. He kisses the top of your head, throwing his leg over your hip to pull you closer. He’s so warm, and he smells so good, and he’s cuddling you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world. “Did you sleep okay? Aside from the bad dreams?” He asks, hand resting on your back. You nuzzle your face against the crook of his arm. You did sleep okay, you felt safe and warm in his arms, held close in his arms.

“Mhm. Slept better with you.” You say. Matt grins, face flushing as he snuggles you closer, squishing you against him.

“You should stay over more often. Move in with me, so I can keep you safe from all the nightmares.” He says, fingers brushing through your hair. You smile softly.

“…Shit, are you asking me to move in with you?” You ask. Matt kisses your forehead.

“Depends…would you say yes if I was?” You chuckle.

“Yes, yes I would.” Matt smiles, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Then yes, yes I am asking you to move in with me.”

“And I’m saying yes.”

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Otava Heikkilä

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Otava Heikkilä and their new comic for ShortBox, Home by the Rotting Sea 

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Otava Heikkilä: Hey, I’m Otava, a thirty-something comic artist from Finland whose work focuses on narrative, usually historically inspired, usually dark fiction, for queer adults. I’ve been self-publishing comics online since 2010, and my works have been published by indie publishers like Iron Circus Comics and Quindrie Press from 2016 onwards. My piece for ShortBox Comics Fair 2024 will be my 14th comic to see a release. I don’t really know why I make comics, but it’s the primary driving compulsion I have in life. Sad, or awesome, or both!

Tell us more about your new comic?

OH: Home by the Rotting Sea is about two former playthings from the Human King’s harem. This world has ended after a climate event, and the ice caps have melted, and everything that’s left is this hot, rotting world without trees. The usual things still thrive there: Kings with big enough armies to confiscate land for themselves. But after the ice caps melted, humans have gotten in contact with another humanoid species who used to live behind the glaciers: the Väki, who the humans call giants, because they’re bigger than us. The territories are under dispute, and to smooth over the latest injury, the Human King sends those two former playthings, Ilta and Laulu, and a cart full of jewelry and furs, to the Väki as an appeasement. The comic itself starts here, and we see Ilta and Laulu learning to live among the Väki. It’s an existential slice of life.

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

OH: While developing a new comic, I usually have a few interests that compel me, and a few more that bother me, and I end up alchemizing those together. In recent years I’ve been interested in prehistory and the other humanoid species that lived alongside us in the past. Everybody wants to make a story about how we might’ve felt about the Neanderthals, and I think I’d like to make it too. This is kind of a go at that story, but I wanted to make it fictional and unrelated to our real world relatives. Chasing historical accuracy with a story about prehistory is inherently kind of an impossible, funny thing anyway, and I’ve understood I’m not well-read enough for it (If you are, and would like me to illustrate it for you, hit me up).

So the speculative anthropology was the compelling part. The bothering part was/is the genocide in Palestine that broke into a hell on earth while I was developing the comic. I want to make it clear that my comic doesn’t matter in any meaningful way under this terrible light, but the events are inside all of us and making us sick; my comic is about the death of a people and a land because somebody at the top can’t stop eating the world until there’s nothing left. It’s impossible to make it and have it be unaffected by what’s happening. This was the hardest story to make for me because I’ve bagged so much grief inside it, and hope too.

I’ve also been through chronic pain this year, and I made a lot of the backgrounds of the comic with my left hand, which is in somewhat less pain than my right one. It’s kind of stupid to suffer for pictures, and I will try not to do it going forward, but probably I will.

Does a sense of audience, even if it’s just an audience of one, enter into your creative process? If yes, how so?

OH: Yeah, of course. It’s the need to make a connection to somebody and to feel and see the same thing with brief but great precision. It’s a kind of truth-sharing, because I find it hard to share my real self in my personal life. Or maybe those two things aren’t connected, I don’t know. I’m always thinking about the individual on the other side.

Can you talk about your visual style? How did you develop it?

OH: I think art comes to me easily and because of that I’m lazy about it. I don’t use as much reference as I should, and there’s a general ground floor chaos to everything; my work is worse for it. I’ve tried to tighten the ship and learn better fundamentals as I’ve gotten older, and the result is, I guess, interesting. I do big compositional color blocks first, then lines and detail. I went to art school for my Bachelor’s degree and retained nothing from there except a general superiority complex about having an art degree and some painting fundamentals, which make my workflow slower than it should be for digital comics. Sense of dimensions and scale, color, and clarity of the reading experience are important to me.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[wrongcaitlyn]

wrongcaitlyn 2024 fic recs masterlist

SO. i always like to keep track of how many fics i read throughout the year, and in 2024 i read about 28.3 million words of fanfic. i know. i don't have a life. most fics read were in july (4.4m words) and least fics read were in september (797k words). BUT throughout those 28.3m words i do think i found some incredible fics throughout the year, which i bookmark as recs to reread :) because of this, i thought i'd do a little ao3 wrapped sort of thing and share all of my bookmarked fics this year as recs!! i read pretty much all kinds of fics so please check tags/warnings/ratings if you choose to read them

and, as it's a new year, i'm also always constantly bookmarking more recs. if you wanna check those out they're on my ao3! i highly recommend reading every single fic there bc they're all incredible <33

this is going to be long, so i decided to split it up by fandom - and all of these lists are ordered by the date i read them, not any specific ranking or anything. gonna include the date bookmarked, ship (if there is one), ch count and word count bc,,, yeah these are going to be very varied!!

fandoms included:

percy jackson - 21 fics (jan 6 - nov 5) tsoa/the iliad - 7 fics (jan 26 - oct 18) miraculous ladybug - 2 fics (feb 19 - feb 23) harry potter - 6 fics (june 30 - july 8) the secret history - 1 fic (oct 4) arcane - 18 fics (nov 13 - dec 31) + 2 honorable mentions

PERCY JACKSON - aka, the main hyperfixation

The Request Revolution by tiredpjofan - 1/6/2024, gen, 3 ch, 4.8k

Percy sees that some of the newer campers don't feel 100% comfortable with requesting stuff from their godly parents, so he decides to rectify that the only way he knows how -- dramatically. i know this one is insanely popular but i only got around to reading it this year, and!! genuinely just a funny, fluffy piece that makes me happy :))

whoopsie daisy! by buoyantsaturn - 1/21/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 3.2k

Will almost missed the way Tartarus had dulled his senses, distracting him from his own pain and preventing him from knowing the full extent of Nico’s.  angst. i love angst. i vividly remember reading this at like 2 am and then bookmarking it and then reading it again in the morning and having to re-experience the pain

long story short by takeimi - 2/25/2024, percabeth, one-shot, 4.5k

percy starts a youtube vlog channel and raises one too many questions. i mean it's a socmed fame au need i say anything more

i'm put in awe (of something so flawed and free) by CordeliaRose - 3/2/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 15.9k

Right. Well. Nico squares his shoulders, reminds himself that nobody’s perfect and this guy has to be ugly, and knocks on the door. He is met with a Greek God, and forgets how to function. AKA: the archaeologist!Nico & trauma surgeon!Will AU. i already included this (and probably a few other fics i'm gonna mention) in my solangelo fic recs list, so i'm not gonna say that much but just know i prob reread this like 4 times already it's so <33 AND IT HAS A SEQUEL NOW

paper/plastic by Rosyredlipstick - 3/10/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 14.2k

When Nico di Angelo's favorite, most dependable gas station for midnight snacks etcetera is shut down due to some incredibly far-fetched and completely unnecessary health code violations, he's forced to start going to the sister franchise down the street, where a certain blond clerk seems to always be working (like, almost in an unhealthy way). Also, on a definitely unrelated note, Nico now volunteers to do any & all gas station convenience store runs. Leo — stop laughing. i'm also 99% sure i read this before 2024 and then lost it and found it again, BUT I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH IT'S SO SWEET AND AGHSDF love background lost trio, their dynamics are so perfect

a letter to the moon (it is not brighter than you) by theroyalsavage - 3/12/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 7.1k

When his kingdom is plagued by a series of unsolvable murders, Prince Will Solace must confront several things: tragedy, helplessness, and the dizzy-sweet inevitability of falling in love. just solangelo medieval au that's absolutely perfect

I Need a Hero by theroyalsavage - 3/12/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 3.8k

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted. SUPERHERO AU HELL YES!!! no srsly the way this author writes their dynamic i'm in love <33 (also yes both this and the previous one were written ages ago, okay i was catching up on solangelo fics i missed from being late to the fandomJSDF

Solar Powered by Caora - 3/19/2024, apollo/naomi but also gen, one-shot, 14.8k

Apollo, god of music, was how he had introduced himself. Naomi had assumed he was joking, and he didn't correct her. She had dated musicians and poets before. They all had an ego, and those same words would not have felt out of place from either of her exes. She merely downgraded Apollo from potential boyfriend to potential fling, and didn't think twice about it. Now though…. Now her son could heal wounds with a single touch, and her world was tipping on its axis. this is actually canon to me now. i love naomi solace so much. THIS IS CANON TO ME. also just so beautifully written <33

la vita �� fatta così by HowlingAlchemist - 3/19/2024, solangelo, 25 ch, 109.4k

When Bianca somehow comes back from the dead, she, Nico and Will are sent on a quest that will hopefully answer some lingering questions. But Nico and Bianca are not the kids that they once were, and things get very difficult as a result. i love fics that straight up feel like they could be their own books and this is one of them. so well-written and the angst!!!! i died but i was happy about it

hold me, thrill me, kiss me by restinreeses - 3/29/2024, valgrace, one-shot, 3.5k

“You love me,” Leo declares, his smirk widening with every passing second. “You, the great Jason Grace, love me.” He fumbles for his words, but they melt in his mouth as Leo's hands snaked up the small of his back – those delicate fingers tracing patterns into his skin that burnt worse than his SPQR tattoo. “I wouldn’t call myself great,” he mutters at last. Leo leans in, raising one thick eyebrow. “I dunno,” he says, “I’d say you’re pretty great.” His lips brush over Jason's, once, twice. “You know. For loving me.” me being briefly obsessed with valgrace and this was definitely part of the reason this fic was so <33 i love them so much and this fic was incredibly written

but we were in screaming color by tunacucumber - 4/2/2024, valgrace, one-shot, 3.2k

It feels inevitable, somehow, when he grabs Jason by the collar of his shirt and tugs him forward. it starts with a ridiculous heatwave. starting off with an incredible title, but AHHSHDFHSD THE VALGRACE DYNAMIC IS JUST PERFECT

Champion by TsarinaTorment - 4/5/2024, gen, one-shot, 1.3k

She always said she was going to make it to the Olympics, and aged eighteen, it finally happened. yall already know how much i love their fics and the kayla centric of it all!!!! THIS IS CANON TO ME ITS LITERALLY PERFECT.

Blood-Soaked Flowers by TsarinaTorment - 4/8/2024, gen, one-shot, 4.8k

Will knows what’s wrong with him. He just doesn’t know why. another one of TsarinaTorment's ToApril fics and god. this one made me so. i can't even. like i still remember reading this for the first time the twist made my heart WRENCH platonic angst will be the death of me

apple cider and freezer burn by yrbeecharmer - 4/10/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 2.4k

“Somebody pissed off McCaffrey,” Cecil says miserably from the Iris message flickering in midair, in the middle of Nico’s cabin, at two in the morning on a godsdamn Thursday. “So she sent, like, a dozen karpoi to surprise attack us in the middle of the night. We’ve been trying to get rid of them, but they just keep respawning. Can you come poke them with your magic sword?” Nico stares at him. “No.” “Oh, come on! Why not?” “It’s two in the morning! I was sleeping!” i just love general camp shenanigans and this one was SO PERFECT

And I Miss My Lover, Man by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays - 4/17/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 3.6k

In a single well-aimed strike, Nico knocked Riptide out of Percy’s hand and sent it skittering into the forest. Before Percy could react, Nico shoved him down, and stood over him, about to claim victory. And that was when the world shattered. His entire chest suddenly felt like it was being fractured, torn apart bit by bit. He felt a soul leave a body, alone and in pain and miles from home. He saw, in a hazy mental image, someone else’s last view of the sky overhead, and then silence. pure angst. proceed with caution and read warnings. this broke me at like 2 am in the morning

i do adore by rabbit_soup - 5/1/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 1.8k

“I appreciate it,” he said. “I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t…okay for a while. I’m definitely still not.” “Look who you’re talkin’ to,” Will said with a smile. Nico snorted, “Yeah, that’s true. You are feeling better, yeah?” Will detangled himself from Nico, rolling up his sleeves. The Empousa injuries had since faded in the past month. Now, they were nothing more than thick white scratches, and even those were fading by the day. this entire series is just so wonderful and so sweet and i love these boys so much omfgjsdfj they deserve everything :(((

my home wears your face by solisaureus - 5/29/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 9.8k

Three years after being dumped by Will Solace, Nico pushes himself too far with shadow travel again. Unfortunately, the only person on Earth who knows how to treat advanced shadow sickness happens to be his ex-boyfriend. THE EMOTIONS I FELT READING THIS AT LIKE 9 IN THE MORNING RIGHT WHEN I WOKE UP I LITERALLY DIED. like seriously this fic is so insanely good. omfg. please. please go read rn. i can't even it was so sweet but also heartbreaking but hopeful and the solangelo dynamic was just absolutely perfect

the first lovers in the world by rottenpomegranate - 9/15/2024, solangelo, one-shot, 6k

Their relationship changes, from the way it was when they were fourteen, clammy hands and shy smiles, to how it is when they're nearing the edge of adulthood, working together to figure out what to do with all this love they hold. just the most gorgeous and perfectly written solangelo coming of age fic, i love them

Son of Sea Foam by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle - 10/20/2024, castor/percy, 12 ch, 196.4k

AU where Percy has to hide the fact he's a Big Three kid otherwise he'll be killed on the spot. Unfortunately for him, unclaimed kids tend to raise the most suspicion... but he might have found a loophole in the form of Aphrodite. okay yea this one just left me reeling for days. weeks even. this is a total rewrite of what pjo could have been and though i may have questioned it going into it, i should have never doubted any bit of this- this is just a masterpiece of writing, like, seriously. the way that all of the character arcs were written, the deaths meaningful, the plot insanely well-thought out?? i am in awe. i read this and the sequel within a 6 hour car drive bc i was just so insanely hooked on every detail of this universe- seriously, the worldbuilding was insane, the oc's so perfectly intertwined, and the lore perfectly incorporated. SERIOUSLY if you want a pjo fic to completely alter your brain chemistry, this is the one.

Set in Stone by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle - 10/24/2024, gen, 7 ch, 38.2k

Medusa’s sculptures are mysteriously coming back to life. Percy doesn’t think murder is an unreasonable action given the circumstances. THIS WAS SO PERFECT. it was so hilarious while at the same time keeping a serious tone, but the banter and the dialogue and everything just made it such an enjoyable read (oh, and the ending. the ending is perfect.)

say you want a hero (you don't) by pjowithbluecookies - 11/5/2024, percabeth/gen, HP CROSSOVER, 12 ch, 4k

Narcissa Malfoy will do whatever it takes to save her son, and if that meant blackmailing demigods into saving the world again, then so be it. wasn't sure whether to include this in pjo or hp but so far the characters have been mainly pjo centric so i'd say that. and like. i know this was last updated in sep 2023 but god is the premise so insanely good. im so invested in the plot even tho it was only 12k words and unfinished. went through a brief phase of looking for good quality pjo/hp crossovers and this one just holds so much promise

THE SONG OF ACHILLES/THE ILIAD - aka, the one that pops up every few months

Sunset in Your Veins by Baejax - 1/26/2024, patrochilles, 24 ch, 100.4k

Achilles recognizes Tartarus when he sees it, dark, and gray, and ugly and freezing. Pat cannot explain why he brought home the lunatic who stole a dog and burst into the veterinarian office where he works. The man can't even speak English. This is a disaster. im almost 100% sure that i read this in 2023 and then i lost it and then i found it again, reread it, and bookmarked it, and then reread it again some other time this year, which just goes to show how much i love this fic. like. damn just thinking abt it i should read it again. absolutely incredible

Our numbered days by Baejax - 4/15/2024, patrochilles, 2 ch, 10.1k

It's their senior year of college, Patroclus has his first serious girlfriend, and Achilles is happy for him. Really. something about this made me want to cry so bad like the angst was just. god. but it was also so absolutely wonderful at the end and made me want to scream with joy. idk dude the emotions this made me feel in just 10k words was insane

Death and Fate by Baejax - 8/10/2024, patrochilles, series of 21 works, 444.5k

[Series summary] In every universe... I will have them divorce and then get back together. so i think the proper name for this fandom's section is actually just me being obsessed with everything Baejax writes. bc like. seriously go read every fic here. absolutely insane quality. this is basically just a collection of patrochilles au's and they're all incredible !!!!

The Spindle by AMBlue - 9/24/2024, patrochilles, 5 ch, 26.9k

After Patroclus’ death, Achilles begs for the chance to change the past. His wish is granted, but he finds himself trapped repeating the same day over and over as he tries and fails to save his beloved. Character death but I swear this is a fix-it fic with a happy ending. HELL YEAH THE ILIAD FIX IT FIC

Sweet Victory by Baejax - 9/29/2024, patrochilles, 9 ch, 21k

Achilles and Patroclus are just friends, friends who are now roommates since they've started university and who just happen to make out with each other on the regular, but that's just their own weird friend thing that no one else needs to know about. It's not a big deal. Right? this was absolutely hilarious. they own the idiots to lovers tag

you're a walking disaster, and yet- by Johaerys - 10/6/2024, patrochilles, 23 ch, 148.2k

"You'll meet my son, Achilles, soon," Mr Pelides told Patroclus on their drive there. "You two will get along just fine. He's as wild as they come, though." The indulgent pride with which he said the words made them sound almost like a compliment. "Don’t let him talk you into anything." Patroclus blushed as he swore, with strong conviction, that he would absolutely not do that. No sir. He knows better than that. modern patrochilles friends to lovers done perfectly, this was just an insanely good read

Twin Flames by Johaerys - 10/18/2024, patrochilles, 12 ch, 70.1k

Achilles is the young Prince of Phthia, Patroclus is his squire, in a story where they come together, come apart, then find each other all over again. THIS FIC. THIS FIC. OMFGJSDFJSDF THE MEDIEVAL AU I NEEDED THIS WAS ABSOLUTE PERFECTION. their pining throughout all of this made my heart ache but it was all so worth it this is perfect

MIRACULOUS LADYBUG - aka, the hyperfixation from four years ago that randomly showed up for a few weeks

The Great Banana Search by walkingonthestars - 2/19/2024, gen, 3 ch, 10.6k

A small, careless move by Hawk Moth exposes his identity to a citizen of Paris. But this citizen has a secret identity of their own, and that makes finding them and taking care of the situation a rather slippery pursuit. Basically, Mr. Banana sees Hawk Moth detransform, and Gabriel and Nathalie work to find out who's behind the banana suit so they can shut him up before he talks. As Gabriel fears that the person in the peel was none other than Cat Noir himself, he also notices that Adrien seems to upset and hiding something. i have no idea what possessed me to read mlb fanfic in the year 2025. i haven't watched the show since quarantine. but god is this probably the funniest fucking fic i've read all year. i was in tears laughing at 3 am. PLEASE READ.

Imbalance by thelibraryloser - 2/23/2024, marichat, 16 ch, 42.4k

Chat Noir is fighting evil all on his own, not aware he’s supposed to be half of a whole. Hawkmoth is desperate to get his hands on the Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculous, knowing that if he causes enough destruction the world will demand balance and the Ladybug will have to appear. And when she does, she's not what anyone expected. Chat thought having a partner would feel different- maybe like how he feels talking to the girl on the balcony. again, i really don't know why i was in a brief mlb phase, but i was- and this was just so well-written and beautiful <33 i was scouring ao3 for interesting au's and im a sucker for marichat so this was perfect

HARRY POTTER aka, the hyperfixation that came out of nowhere during the summer and proceeded to flip my world upside down with the fics i read during this phase

Dog's Best Friend by Ray_Writes - 6/30/2024, gen, 6 ch, 16.3k

When Rubeus Hagrid is placed in the cell next to notorious murderer Sirius Black, truths are revealed and events are changed. man i just love a good fix-it. this felt so realistic and just made me so happy. i don't know why i was reading harry potter that wasn't marauders this year but for some reason i was and this was wonderful

Disrespect Authority by Ray_Writes - 7/1/2024, hinny, 17 ch, 122.9k

Harry chooses to confide in Ginny about his miserable Occlumency lessons, not realizing the youngest Weasley might just have a thing or two to say about someone poking around his head when he doesn’t want it. Together, they hatch a plan to get him out of the lessons that has a variety of unintended consequences: an opening for Dolores Umbridge to tighten her hold over the castle, a clue to set the last true Marauders on the trail of Voldemort’s secrets, and a beginning of something more between Harry and Ginny themselves. some wrongcaitlyn lore for y'all, my very first fic that i read was hinny. my very first several fics. i know im such a bore for having the main canon ship be what introduced me to fandom but it turns out i still have such a soft spot for them and this fic is way better than canon was so i'm just going to pretend that it is canon bc any way to ignore what j*r wrote is great. anyway this is ootp canon for me now

This Is Just What Human Means (For Me) by WoodenSuitcase - 7/1/2024, gen, one-shot, 6.8k

Out of the family, only Bill knew Charlie was aroace. It wasn't that Charlie didn't want to tell the others – he just never seemed to find the right moment for it! When the perfect opportunity arose in the form of a Christmas visit to the Burrow, Charlie made it his mission to finally come out. As it turns out, things never go as smoothly as one intends, even with his older brother by his side. aroace charlie my beloved <33 went through a brief obsession with him and honestly all of the weasleys throughout this time period (and like seriously. i just went from one weasley family member to the next idk why) but this was so sweet

Ben Folds's Series by orphan_account - 7/5/2024, perciver, series of three fics, 37.8k

[summary from the first fic of the series] Wherein book 7 is completely ignored because wars don't tend to happen so quickly; Percy Weasley runs a safehouse [because that's as close to administrative work as you can get in a war], and everyone gets a chance to play minor character bingo. Get your cards and markers ready! the way this author wrote perciver... god this was just perfect like seriously. if you want to start reading this ship PLEASE read this one

James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, (pause for breath) and the Prisoner of Azkaban by gonzoclock - 7/6/2024, wolfstar/gen, 17 ch, 32.7k

At the end of first year, Harry pocketed the Philosopher's Stone- in a secret pocket that everyone else missed. Now, two years later, Harry is in his third year, his friends are having the time of their lives in Hogsmeade, there's an escaped mass murderer running around, and Harry is going stir-crazy. Fortunately, the twins have a solution! Although- they're going to need something in return, and it needs to be good. Good thing Harry kept that Stone, huh? And then things go completely bat-shit crazy. (featuring the Marauders vs 1993, an exhausted Professor Lupin, a bewildered Harry Potter, and an opportunistic Hermione Granger) pure crack. i love it.

The Second String by Eider_Down - 7/8/2024, harry/gideon, 45 ch, 409.8k

Everyone knows Dementors can take souls, but nothing says that they have to keep them. After the Dementor attack in Little Whinging ends disastrously, Harry must find a place for himself in a new world, fighting a different sort of war against the nascent Voldemort. *deep breath in* okay. okay hear me out. okay listen please. like seriously. this may just be the best fic i read all year. AND I PUT SERIOUS WEIGHT IN THAT. AND I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IM SAYING IT ABOUT AN HP FIC. BUT LIKE. IM BEING SO FR RIGHT NOW. the way that this fic literally altered my brain chemistry and left me in shambles. the amount of detail that went into the plot and the lore. i could read another 400k words of this universe and it still wouldn't be enough. the author is literally so crazily talented they made me ship harry potter x gideon prewett (no weird age gap going on trust me, there's a lot of time travel stuff going on- they are around the same age biologically and mentally). like seriously if i had to recommend one fic from this year it would be this. which is insane to say. but i cannot understate how incredible this work of fanfiction is like genuinely, i hope that this author is out there writing incredible original works because they integrated oc's into the plot so seamlessly, made these incredible relationships and orchestrated the plot so perfectly that i was just completely immersed. i could go on for way longer but like. all i could think when finishing this was woah. holy fucking shit. idk if i'll ever read a fic as insane as that again.

THE SECRET HISTORY aka, i read the book and needed more

No Room For the Present by lessnearthesun - 10/4/2024, francis/richard, 3 ch, 65.9k

Post-canon, Richard and Francis, and all that comes after. A drama in three parts. no seriously this reads perfectly as a continuation of the book. like it's genuinely- every word, the writing style, the characterization, it's all so perfect. breaks my heart at times but it wouldn't be the secret history if it didn't, if you read the book please please go read this!!!

ARCANE aka, the return of the lesbians; aka, home sweet home; aka, my life's entire purpose starting in november; aka, the literal love of my life arcane writers please take my soul and turn it into more caitvi fanfics

no seriously. why are there no other recs past nov 6 in the other fandoms? bc it was literally all this. 20 arcane recs in a matter of less than two months. 7m+ words read from just arcane fics in nov-dec.

now on to the recs!!

Promise on both sides by paxbanana - 11/13/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 10.4k

Caitlyn seeks to right the wrongs she dealt Zaun. She doesn't expect to get the opportunity to do the same with Vi. For her part, Vi's not one for last words or martyr shit, and she's not about to let Caitlyn get away with it either. now canon divergent bc it was written right after act 1 came out, but god was this so heartbreaking to see. such a good take on what could have happened in place of act 2/3, and the characterizations were just perfect

knit them tight by qwahaXahn - 11/22/2024, caitlyn & jinx, 3 ch, 3.4k

The hunt for Warwick goes horribly wrong, and Jinx can only think of one person to help her save Vi. Unfortunately, Caitlyn Kiramman wants her dead. A character study of two women in the process of changing, and how they finally, finally start healing. CAITLYN AND JINX ARE MY EVERYTHING (IN A SISTER IN LAW KIND OF WAY) AND THIS WAS SOMETHING SO GUTWRENCHINGLY PERFECT FOR THEIR INTERACTIONS BOTH OF THEM ARE JUST WRITTEN SO WELL AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS

Too Close / Too Late by AiLaikJedi - 11/24/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 7.7k

As Caitlyn recovers from the Battle at Piltover, Vi learns that caring for her means facing the grief she’s tried to bury. filled the void i had searching for post-canon fics, this was just so perfect. no words it was beautifully written

The Willingness to Walk Away, The Courage to Try Again by Barakis - 11/24/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 7.1k

You let go for them, to save them from themselves. Otherwise, they’ll never find the strength to do it on their own, Vi realizes, and that realization only adds to her pain and heaving sobs. Jinx understood what Vi didn’t. She saw what her big sister couldn’t until it was too late. That in order to break the cycle of pain and violence, one of them needed to have the strength to walk away. And that person was never going to be Vi. another post-canon fic, honestly a blend of all of these are canon to me because they're all just so well written and perfect for the characters <3

i love you, i'm waiting for you by thehaakun - 11/24/2024, caitvi, 2 ch, 11.8k

Growth sometimes only came from discomfort, from a healthy fear of the unknown, from an innate desire to move out of old habits, dead pasts. She can’t accept what you and I both know. Caitlyn and Vi recover from the aftermath of the war. There's a long path ahead for them both, and their cities. can you tell the finale broke me??? because it did. but ao3 is curing all my wounds. this was so beautiful, a perfect glimpse into post-canon

will you fix me up (will you show me hope) by CharKoal - 11/29/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 2.8k

The last piece of Vi’s heart lays here, broken and bleeding, and somehow finds the nerve to smile. In the aftermath of the battle, Vi finds Caitlyn. another incredible post-canon fic, the glimpse into vi's mental state after the explosion was just so perfect

Shotgun by Cenodoxus - 12/6/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 8k

"Vi, you can either stay here with your severely injured girlfriend, or you can go desecrate a corpse. You can't do both." "What the fuck kind of bullshit ultimatum is that?" Vi finds Caitlyn after the climactic battle. i'm repeating myself a lot on these because YES technically they're all covering the same topic, but seriously, all of them add little details that just help complete my picture of everything that comes post-canon and compiles into my vision of what happens, and i need all of them to breathe, and this one was absolutely lovely

crash into me (i'm drowning here alone) by CharKoal - 12/8/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 7.3k

The color marks Vi like a scar. Blue hair, blue smoke, a glowing blue sphere and a bright blue explosion. Three bright blue explosions. It follows her, threatens to drown her in its depths. Blue haunts her dreams. She learns, later, that red tarnishes Caitlyn's. In the days following the battle, Vi grapples with the burden of her grief and finds that guilt has already crushed Caitlyn beneath its weight. okay yeah just from the summary you can tell that this is one of the most gut-wrenching fics i have here. seriously the writing quality of this???? absolutely astronomical. literally insane. PLEASE go read this and have your heart torn out

Restitution by dilapidatedcorvid - 12/8/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 2.3k

By all definition, they marvel, she is a medical miracle; her soul sewn back into this mortal vessel by the heroic efforts of the finest Piltover had to offer and cradled in a web of tubing and lines dripping saline and blood and therapies into her veins until they were reasonably sure she was ready to move from the antiseptic sterility of the hospital to the comfort of her own room to recuperate. Caitlyn doesn’t feel like a miracle. Or, Caitlyn is concussed and on bedrest, so she does the only thing she can: think. i love a good character study and this one just dove into caitlyn perfectly. y'all already know she's my fav character, so it makes me extremely happy when her character arc is done justice like in this fic- this is canon, to me

the love we let ourselves deserve by taq - 12/9/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 7.2k

Caitlyn watches the Noxian ships leave the harbor, stands there at the edge, the wind whipping her hair about, the chill sharp in the early morning sun. She watches words she wishes she could have said fizzle into the salty air, watches the tiniest specks of red disappear into the horizon, flecks of blood trapped beneath her nails that she’ll never wash out. There’s a tug to her hand. She turns, and there Vi is. There Vi is, warm and open and loving like she doesn’t care, like it’s alright, like there’s nothing wrong. It’s too much. another post-canon healing story, this one diving more into caitlyn's mental state after the war and it just. god. the guilt the pain the angst it's so perfect.

il y a toujours quelque chose d'absent qui me tourmente by lazy_universes - 12/9/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 11.1k

If pressed, Vi would probably say she couldn't really see the point of yet another monument. Graves, at least, were private enough, but a statue of Jinx in the middle of Zaun was hardly the place where she could mourn for her sister in solitude. If Pilties wanted to assuage their guilt or if Zaunites wanted to send a message, she honestly couldn’t care less. If she had her way, she’d have nothing to do with it. At that point in life, Vi should already be aware she hardly, if ever, had things go her way. this is actually 100% canon to me, seriously just thinking about vi and the alternate universe and her place in the world in the main universe now just makes me want to cry, but this fic just explored it so well and has one of the best vi characterizations ever.

Heart Made of Glass, My Mind of Stone by Phoenix314 - 12/25/2024, caitvi, 18 ch, 104k

In order to avoid time in Stillwater Prison, Vi must complete community service after getting caught stealing from Jayce Talis, the protégé of the wealthy and intelligent Councilor Cassandra Kiramman. Instead of spending her nights working at The Last Drop and her days looking after her siblings in Zaun, she now has to be the errand girl to one of the most powerful people in Piltover. However, Vi soon realizes that something isn’t right. What secret project is Jayce working on? Why does the councilor keep sending Vi on strange assignments? And why won’t Caitlyn Kiramman leave Vi alone about what life is like in Zaun? Something is festering in the underbelly of both cities and Vi is beginning to suspect that the Kirammans know more than anyone realizes. okay thIS. THIS FIC IS INSANE. first of all i just wanna say holy shit author for writing 104k words in less than a month and it still being ongoing. mad respect. made even more insane by how high quality every bit of this fic is, i LOVE a good young caitvi au and this just flew to the top of my ranking of them since i started reading- excitedly awaiting every update on this because i just love how in-depth the worldbuilding and characters are. oh, and cassandra?? MOST ICONIC CHARACTER EVER. LOVE HER. this one just dove so deeply into the kiramman family and that makes me SO happy, and i can't wait to see where it ends up going <3

Coming home to you by mkhhhx - 12/27/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 20.2k

“You are not taking good enough care of yourself,” Caitlyn starts, looking towards the fountain. She’s lost weight and her cheeks are hollowed, the knuckles of her hand too pronounced into Vi’s grasp. “I need you now, more than ever, Violet.” “You have me,” Vi says, as a matter of fact. As if she has anyone else to live for, to give her loyalty to. “In any way you’d want me.” another post-canon fic that's just so beautifully written. like srsly what are they feeding caitvi authors. this was insanely good, and just makes my caitvi heart so happy. HEALING TAG I LOVE YOU!!!

one single thread of gold tied me to you by piltovervscogirl - 12/28/2024, caitvi, one-shot, 10.8k

five lifetimes where caitlyn and vi found each other & one where they didn’t THE AMOUNT OF THOUGHTS I HAVE ABOUT EACH OF THESE UNIVERSES LIKE HOLY SHIT!!!! they are THE invisible string couple

A Family Affair by orayofsunshine - 12/28/2024, caitvi, 6 ch, 30.8k

Vi doesn’t introduce girls to her family. First, she’s not one to date or see a girl for more than a date or two, so there’s never anyone to introduce to them anyways. She’s too busy and too broke to keep a steady girlfriend. Second, her family is nuts, and no one should be subjected to their unique brand of torture. Or, How Caitlyn Ends Up Meeting Vi’s Whole Family On Accident this just made my heart so happy while also making me cackle. like woah an arcane fic that doesn't make me want to rip my heart out (in a good way). this was so so cute and perfect and A FULL FAMILY FOR VI!!!! HELL FUCKING YEAH

Hotshot by SarcastCity - 12/28/2024, caitvi, 50 ch, 242.6k

Caitlyn's route to work as a detective at the 51st Precinct takes her right by Fire Station #516, and Vi's been pining after the gorgeous Mystery Woman for six months...what will happen when she finds out that Caitlyn's a cop (AKA: The Enemy)? okay so. WOAH. OMFGJSDFJSD. i was a *tiny* bit late to the train on this one but boy am i glad that i read it when it was all complete bc i literally read this in the span of one day. yes. i was hooked to my phone on yet another 6 hour drive, absolutely consumed by this masterpiece of a fic. and then went on to go read everything else by this author bc the fucking TALENT this is just. insanely good!!!!

Ginkgo by Mango_Magpie - 12/30/2024, caitvi, 5 ch, 22k

Vi never thought she'd get a second chance at life. Now, thrust back into a world she no longer recognizes, she sets out to reconnect with lost loved ones, bonding with a new one along the way. missing scenes from s1!!! holy shit this just made me so nostalgic for 2021 again what the fuck!!!! this is canon to me. like, entirely. the fic before this in the series is also a depiction of vi's time in prison and is also canon to me. this author just writes so beautifully, and everything feels so in character, like i could genuinely imagine these scenes playing out in front of me as part of the show. absolutely incredible, will most definitely be re-reading

taking a leap forward (means leaving a few things behind) by thefifthchris - 12/31/2024, gen, 9 ch, 37.5k

Time slows. Four seconds. Ekko shouts. Something is wrong. There’s no time to think. Heimerdinger jumps out of the singularity, and, in his place– Powder takes the leap. In another timeline, Piltover tries to rebuild. No Hexgate, no fancy Hextech, nothing. Vi is familiar with this: raw labor, strength as its own language, sweat dripping between her shoulder blades. No, she thinks. There is no time to mourn. A tale of two sisters. Even worlds apart, they'll still always find each other. got to read this one as it updated and this was just a beautiful exploration of what could've happened if powder tried to recreate the anomaly (a question that im pretty sure everyone asked after the end of ep 7) - it was a wonderful fix-it while also staying true to all of the characters and exploring their relationships post-canon <3

and that is the end <3 shout-out to two honorable mentions:

hold me (like I never did anything to hurt you) by WishingonAStar, which just barely didn't make the cut off bc i read it past midnight on new years day.

and Run at the Cup. by TheHomelyBadger which i can firmly say is one of my top 3 best reads of the year (the others being The Second String and Son of Sea Foam), but wasn't included in this list because i first bookmarked it on may 27, 2022 back when it was originally updating. bc i sort of fell out of the fandom i didn't end up keeping up with the updates and so i got to re-read it in its entirety in december and was just completely blown away by how incredible it was, i could easily read 300k more words about this universe, it's an absolute masterpiece - i mean, it made me care about sports, which let me tell you is the most impossible job there is.

[kaeyachi]

So...I finished the Arlecchino story quest...

Spoilers below!

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Child Experimentation, Child Abuse, and Murder/Death

This is, by far, the best story quest I have ever done!

First of all, CHILDE?! CHILDE ESCAPING HIS PERSONAL AMBULANCE TO SNEZHNAYA JUST TO COME BACK TO FONTAINE TO ASK SKIRK A QUESTION? Bro is so funny, please-

please save him.

Wait, actually, yeah please do save him. Pulcinella and Pantalone are both plotting in the background, and they got Childe involved...

I also loved the children! Look at how terrifying they are! They're my absolute faves!!

Lyney cementing the reason as to why Arlecchino chose him as the next King is wonderful to see as well. For some time, I thought Freminet and Lynette had a shot, even with reading their lore. What I have failed to realize is that Lyney really is the inspiration for all of the people in the House of the Hearth. His frustrated and disappointed spiel about Freminet not trusting him with Clervie struck me to the heart. This is an older brother at work here people!

Also if I had a nickel every time a cryo younger brother hid a dangerous secret from his pyro older brother which got them into an argument once the truth came out, I'd have 2 nickels ✌️ (somehow gave me war flashbacks to a scene that doesn't even exist lmao)

LYNETTE IS THE FUNNIEST SIBLING BTW. SHE'S MY QUEEN FOR THIS.

Clervie! Our dearest! I'm not fully sure what part in her design did it, but she barely looks like an NPC somehow. Like, yes, this is still an NPC base model, but... is it perhaps the hair? And the extra lashes??

Also, her calling Arlecchino "Perrie" made me sob. I wasn't ready to hear nicknames!!

The mention of Snezhnayan auroras also made me sob again as well. You know what? This entire thing made me sob.

Clervie's dread and horror at the thought of her own mother, her unrelenting spirit that kept her going in her fight for her fellow peers freedom despite the abuse that she will receive, and her unfulfilled dreams repeatedly being mentioned throughout this quest was heartbreaking.

I do have to say- the animations they released for Arlecchino helped a lot with the emotions we are supposed to feel for this quest. Not only was that good Advertising and promotion for the Arlecchino banner, it also set up the plot that would have not been well presented ingame had they chose to do that instead.

Crucabena and Clervie part of this quest were not the only ones mentioned in this quest, but also that damn dude that she killed with her heels! I personally like the way they released all those animations because the quest feels more emotional and alive now, and we could follow with the story better than before (and it effectively increased the hype)

Speaking of more alive, the facial expressions have definitely improved! This quest had them utilizing various expressions well, specifically for the playable characters, so, again, this really helped with the feel of the quest.

Additionally, adding a picture to scenes also set the tone really well. It's not that pictures have never been included in quests before, but the way these were framed(?) made it look way better than the ones before.

By the way...is it just me? Or did Paimon's voice somewhat mellow out for this quest? I had recently played some other story and world quests, and Paimon's EN voice is admittedly high-pitched and painful to hear in those, but for this quest, it's as if her voice was toned down (like Mondstadt Paimon, but with current Paimon energy). I'm hoping this was them taking the criticism from past and adjusting their instructions to Paimon's VA accordingly, because I loved Paimon's voice in this quest (that or I'm delulu)

Quick lore tidbits before I go back to gushing about this quest:

1. Arlecchino confirmed not from Fontaine (like I legit thought she may be Khaenri'ahn due to the blood moon thing she has going for her, but it's nice to confirm her non-Fontainian status)

2. Crucabena was the one who had a deal with Dottore on sending members of the HotH to him for experimentation. Anyone who was physically impaired or left alive after a duel to death are automatically sent to him. Clervie has described this as a fate worse than death... Peruere rejected Dottore's partnership offer once she became the next knave. Also, Crucabena used Clervie as an "example" for those who wish to escape, meaning Clervie received the most abuse (which apparently worsened as the years went by). Clervie lost hope sometime along the way and was basically suicidal as well by the time she and Arlecchino had their duel... Her mindset by that time is that the only hope for freedom to her is death. The popular theory of Clervie letting Arlecchino kill her is proven in a horrifying way with this discovery... (yes, she wanted Arlecchino to be the king, but at the same time, she took this situation as a chance to hit 2 birds with 1 stone)

3. Project Stuzha is apparently something highly dangerous, and Pulcinella and Pantalone are trying to get Childe and Arlecchino involved (Childe was told to aide the project by Pulcinella, while Arlecchino says she doesnt want the HotH to be involved in it)

4. Here is me reannouncing that I am in fact taking the L on the Freminet and Crucabena situation. Basically, the timeline is that at age 16, Clervie dies, and we are left with a 1 year time period for a 6 year old Freminet to enter under Crucabena (I'm guessing this is either a retcon or a means to hide the Arlecchino plot by not having them directly say mother in Freminet's character story 4). After that said 1 year, Peruere kills Crucabena and has spent several months in Snezhnaya before reviving the House of the Hearth and adopting Lyney and Lynette (perhaps the children of Crucabena's HotH simply stuck together during that time)

Basically, yes, Arlecchino is in her mid-20s. Not my personal cup of tea, but hey, genshin ages are confusing most days (Ayato is older than her, and Ayaka may actually be older than her as well... ugh I need a moment please... I MAY BE THE SAME AGE AS HER. NO-)

5. Freminet used to also call Lyney "brother". What changed that, I'm not sure (and if I had a nickel...), but the thought of baby Freminet following around big bro Lyney and big sis Lynette makes my heart melt. Freminet actually cried after Lyney basically told him how important Fremi is to him, so whoever made Freminet think otherwise... 😡 they better square up because we ride at dawn

ok back to me gushing

THE BOSS FIGHT? IT WAS SO COOL! It was beautifully animated, and the fact that they added this at the end?

The fear on the traveler's eyes upon realization of what true power Arlecchino held was amazing imo. We canonically cannot defeat Arlecchino in her boss fight! She will be a weekly boss that we can defeat, but in actuality, we really cannot beat the number 4 of the Fatui Harbringers.

We now have actual proof that harbringers 1-4 are not within our capabilities to challenge, and to add to that horror, this is us fighting Arlecchino with Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. This is also actual proof that we, the traveler, cannot defeat a ton of other characters as well! (were cooked if we never get a power boost and plot armor✌️)

Also let me sneak in this picture:

Cunty as fck. Powerpuff girls energy. They're the Heathers, and we, the traveler, are Veronica.

And finally, the last part of my commentary that cemented this quest as my top 1:

Everything Arlecchino has done for the House of the Hearth, it was all thanks to Clervie and her dreams.

Arlecchino has shaped the HotH into a more honest relationship between her as the father and them as her children. Everything Clervie hated about the old HotH is now nonexistent in this version.

The children could be set free.

Duels are not to death.

They will not be sent to their doom if they lose.

This is everything that Clervie dreamed of, and this is everything Clervie tragically never got to see and experience because she lost all hope.

Clervie's story ended in tragedy, but Peruere lived and breathed Clervie's dreams for her anyway. Seeing the aurora was the start of Peruere finding the goal of living Clervie's dream, and now, Arlecchino strives to do her best to see those dreams come to fruition.

And the qualities that Peruere admired in Clervie are the same qualities that made her want Lyney to become the next king. Hopeful, caring, protective, passionate, and full of conviction. Lyney will take the mantle and live and breathe for Clervie's and Peruere's dreams someday.

Honestly, I have more to say, but I think this is a good place to stop for now. The dynamics of all these characters have made this experience worthwhile, and I hope that genshin continues with this sort of style in the future. Here's to more amazing stories from genshin!

Bonus screenshot while we are still here:

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Oh my God, your latest Cat AU prompt had me in a chokehold. Please keep writing them (of course when or if you want to, frfr) 🙏 Love em!!

I love your art and stories, I always have my eye out for you on my feed. Thank you for your time and gifting us your art.

Have you thought of mashing this all together into one big story/continuous chapters? Do you like getting ask prompts? Do you own cats? What's your favorite candy? (Haha ok maybe those last questions are unrelated, but I lost my childhood girlboss kitty who would steal pizza slices off the stove and fight coyotes reminds me of cat!Horangi and I'm a slut for sweets)

Thanks again for your time and hope all is well!

Okay, so, this is a long ask so forgive me for rambling a bit.

Most imortantly, thank you so so much for your support! As an up-and-coming writer on tumblr, this means the world to me. I cannot stress how thankful I am for all the messages, comments, reblogs and likes. Everything means so so much to me. I know I'm not the best artist/writer out there, but anythign you guys give me makes me smile, laugh and feel like I actually finally have a place in fandom. I finally feel like I'm not just observing, but actually adding to a community (Sideplug here's a konig tumblr community I started: https://www.tumblr.com/join/IsfMVrTZ). I cannot thank you all enough for giving me a place here at the table.

Now, as for CatHybrid!CoD, it's weird. I have a lot of thoughts of what's going on in the background (namely Shadow Company, TF141, and the rest of KorTac and what they're up to) but I really like to focus on König and Horangi because, ya know, they're my favs. I love those two goofballs. I think they're great and I love love love writing for them. Unfortunately, I'm really bad at coming up with random prompts on my own, so yes, I rely on asks to make Cat Hybrid!CoD a thing. I absolutely need asks. I love the asks because they inspire me to flesh out this world all the time. I cannot stress how much I appreciate them.

I would like to make a longer story, but I know the story ends with König and Horangi revealing their true hybrid status to reader and thus revealing the secret. Part of the joy of this story is keeping the secret, right? So it's hard because on one hand, I want to keep the secret forever, but I know the truth has to come out eventually. I don't know how to make the story yet because of that. I just get so conflicted. I could try it out though if you'd like? It's something to consider. I'm going up north to my parents for Christmas, so I might not have anything before then. Forgive me for that.

Finally, I do have a cat! Part of the big reason I'm going up north is to bring my senior cat back home with me. I feel bad moving an older cat, but Clovis is bonded to me. He gets miserable when I leave. I had to leave him behind when I moved out to college, but now I found a place where I can keep him with me. I love him so so much and he loves me, so I'm bringing him home where I can give him all the care he needs.

Since I have a cat, I know how painful it is to lose your best friend. It's heart wrenching beyond belief. I hope you're feeling okay now, and I hope your little girl is somewhere better now. I cannot stress how haunting the grief is. You learn to live, but in the beginning? I am still a bit shaken honestly. I hope Cat!Horangi can continue to inspire joy for you and make you smile.

Favourite candy? Candy corn, lindor's milk/peppermint/white chocolate, cadbury/lindt milk/white chocolate and the like. I don't like darrk chocolate so much (I got an 11lb bar of dark chocolate years ago and it was too much).

But yeah! Please send asks, they make this whole au real. I love them dearly. I'm not always the most timely in answering them (one in my inbox hasn't been answered because I'm still setting up the software to be able to ask it) but yeah, I do love asks. They always make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

[crooked-wasteland]

" We have no obligation to make history. We have no obligation to make art. We have no obligation to make a statement. To make money is our only objective." – Michael Eisner

(And Vivienne Medrano, apparently)

This image was circulating for a brief time here on Tumblr with the explanation of it possibly being a leak of Oops' script. I didn't want to touch on it at the time because it was of dubious origin. At this point, obviously, we know this is not that script. I've seen some comments about it possibly being a rough draft or otherwise somehow legitimate.

The reason I say this is because, regardless of the authenticity, it does feel like the quality of storytelling found in the show. If a scene like this did appear, I don't think it would feel all that out of place within the context of the show. One cannot fault those who did perpetuate the idea, because the concept of it is believable.

However, I have a feeling this is actually the product of ChatGPT.

The writing and dialogue lack depth and nuance. The emotions are shallow while attempting to portray immense pain. It fails to tap into any semblance of humanity. When individuals discuss the hypothetical threat of AI taking over the artistic space and removing the need for human creativity, it comes from a place of lacking that same humanity. Social media and, unfortunately, Fandom have boiled down art to a content farm.

Algorithms mixed with huge communities seeking immediate gratification have dumbed down art into an appealing image one would admire for a few seconds. They press some buttons and immediately keep scrolling, forgetting what they just saw.

Additionally, character illustrations are the easiest image for AI to recreate. The value of fanwork is not about the emotional depth it portrays but how aesthetically appealing the image is and how identifiable the characters are to Canon. Not to say that fanworks can not showcase depth or meaning in their pieces. Only that the piece will overwhelmingly not be appraised for its cultural or metaphysical value. Instead, it will be immediately replaced.

There is an intentionality to what we call "art." How every element of an artwork was specifically designed to portray something. From the minute background details to the colors and the use of value. How the modern home of philosophy is the theater.

And that's the issue with much of the writing of Helluva Boss: The lack of intentionality as the story (or lack thereof) stumbles along. The crew does not make artistic decisions with an eye to how these events affect the future. They cycle through an unending series of unrelated ideas that are not intended to say anything of the characters or world. It is there to simply be funny, make the audience sad, token representation, etc. The idea mirroring J.J.Abrams and his mystery box mentality of monopolizing the attention-based economy through the emotional investment of the moment.

The idea that something that feels straight out of ChatGPT could just as easily be pictured as a scene in an episode shows the utter lack of connectivity to the project and the basic act of being human.

Medrano and her team are not interested in making art. They are prioritizing the consumption of their content over the quality of the artistic work itself. Given the support and platform to say whatever it was she wished to do so, she has chosen to go nowhere and do nothing with these resources. It's one of the keystone reasons I feel the series has lost as much support as it has. When given the option to make history. It isn't about the art, but rather she seeks to make it about herself. Medrano doesn't want to tell a story or make a statement. She just wanted a show.

[jezabatlovesbats]

I rewatched Unikitty to jot down my observations of what the society and culture of the Unikingdom is like.

Then, I rewatched some episodes again to analyze the society and culture of Frowntown. I did my best with what little we saw of it. I went off of both what was shown in Frowntown, and what Master Frown and Brock were doing and saying.

This is your long post warning!

The Values and Opinions of Frowntown:

Uhhhhhh… frowning?

Being nice is discouraged, but is that just a thing with the Doom Lords, or does all of Frowntown discourage it?

The Doom Lords are responsible for all the pain, mayhem, and despair in the whole world

Being buff is seen as attractive (In one episode, Master Frown wears a shirt with abs on it and says, “I’m a beefcake!”)

Stories, Mythology, and Folklore:

Birthday wishes (although, they probably don’t know that you can’t say your wish out loud. By the way, that’s a fact of life in this world. When Master Frown said his wish out loud and blew out Puppycorn’s candle, it blew him back, and the flame regenerated.)

Ghosts (Brock dressed like one)

Witches (Master Frown dressed like one)

Chainsaw killers (Master Frown dressed like one)

Gifting someone presents

Magic wands?

The Tooth Fairy?

Santa Claus?

The Sandman?

Sentient Skeletons?

Magical things happening after bedtime?

Stories about pirates? (I wrote this in the Demographics section by mistake, my bad)

Laying down a towel to claim a spot at the beach… or is Master Frown just doing that to mess with Unikitty and her friends? We see Master Frown and Brock taking part in Unikingdom stuff many times.

Frowntown Geography:

Rocky?

Hills?

Little to no vegetation, from the looks of it

Cliffs?

Barren land?

Frowntown is confirmed to be in the south of the planet Unikitty is set on

What are those tall things way out in the background? Are they tall rocks? Are they more buildings?

The weather is usually overcast or rainy (“Frowntown- getting pummeled with rain!”), so that suggests the climate is humid

It’s prone to getting extreme weather, like thunderstorms and blizzards

A desert neighbors Frowntown and the Unikingdom

Naming Customs:

People in Frowntown have more proper names; they aren’t named after their being/what they are

Names can either be more realistic, like Brock, or less realistic, like Crankybeard

People can have middle names; Master Frown’s is Alan

Brock refers to his mother as “Mama Brock.” We never see her or learn anything else about her. On the other hand, he refers to his father, Crankybeard, as Dad

Unikingdomans also refer to their parents as Mom or Dad or other variants like it

The Doom Lords’ names are all Master (Insert Negative Thing or Quality here). How do they get these names?

In the episode Brock Most Wanted, it’s implied that you get your Doom Lord name when you take the job. They tried to initiate Brock as Master Party Ruiner

But if that’s the case, what was Master Frown’s name before he joined the Doom Lords? Does he have a name other than his Doom Lord title?

Frowntown Architecture:

Samey colors

Drab colors

Geometric shapes

Squarish, green-tinted windows

Circular windows, too

People live in apartments (and houses?)

One-story and two-story apartments

Unrelated people can live together in apartments as roommates

Single smaller doors on most buildings

Movie theaters with old-timey marquees

Condomiums? (Brock mentions his and Master Frown’s dream condo)

There are gas stations

Lots of highways and streets

Roads circle the whole city

Billboards, signs, and street signs

Traffic lights (all of them are red?)

Multi-paned windows

That one tall building that looks like Master Frown (What is it? Is it the Doom Lords’ lair? If it is, why do they berate him so much if the building looks like him?)

Smaller buildings connected to larger ones with metal rods?

Lots of metal rods

Triangular roofs

Pillars

Stairs

Red curtains

Carpets

Thin, wood tables

Candles and flowerpots are used as table centerpieces

Fruit bowls are placed on coffee tables as decoration/centerpieces

Electric furniture

People sleep in beds, the beds are dark and square

Frowntown furniture in general is plain, dark and square

Outdoor parade chairs?

Flag

In the Doom Lords’ lair, we see the following:

Bookshelves

Desks

The double doors to the lair are tall and have a silhouette of Master Doom’s head on them

A silhouette of her head is also on her chair

Red curtains

Columns (from ceiling to floor, against the wall)

A tiled floor

Frowntown Symbolism:

Frowns

Frowny faces

Clouds

Dark clouds

Rain clouds

Lightning (street lights and other things in Frowntown are shaped like lightning clouds)

There’s a yellow flag above Frowntown that looks like a swallow tail or a burgee. That couldn’t be Frowntown’s national flag, though, could it?

Demographics of Frowntown:

Humanoid figures (which aren’t Lego minifigures or humans)

Lego brick creatures

Anthropomorphic animals? (Master Plague is a plague doctor-like bird. Is Master Malice a bull of some kind?)

What is Master Doom? Is she some kind of monster?

People here can make sparkle matter, too. (We only see Master Frown and Brock doing it, but that proves it)

Flora and Fauna of Frowntown:

Square trees with brick-like leaves. (Are they trimmed? Are they topiaries?)

There are hardly any plants anywhere

Mega ostriches

Puppies?

Birds?

Crabs?

Bunnies?

Horses?

Sheep?

Possums?

Frowntown Society:

We don’t know who the leader of Frowntown is, or if it has one

In the episode Election Day, Master Frown suggested to Unikitty that she should, quote-unquote, “let the people decide” if she should be princess. She agrees to have an election. So, are there governmental elections in Frowntown?

Frown also says, “It’ll be more fun when you lose and I become president!” So, does Frowntown have a president?

Do the Doom Lords lead Frowntown?

Does philanthropy exist in Frowntown, and the Unikingdom? Master Frown says he’ll make the people’s lives better by giving out free stuff if they vote for him. (That’s probably not what philanthropy is, but still…)

There are landlords in Frowntown

Bosses call their employees

People use corded wall telephones

There are analog clocks and alarm clocks

People are seen buying and selling things, in stores and outdoor food stands

We don’t know what Frowntown’s currency is, but it’s probably dollars

Trash is disposed of in trash cans and dumpsters

Everyone eats alone, is stuck in traffic, and is going to the movies by themselves. Unikitty sees this as sad

People wait in lines. There are lines for everything in Frowntown.

Waiting in the lines is very time consuming. People spend many years (at least 10 years on average!) waiting in lines.

The Unikingdom often checks in on Frowntown, even though Frowntown is a separate country from them.

Brock is a foreign correspondent

Unikingdom TV shows air in Frowntown

The people of the Unikingdom don’t really like Frowntown? Puppycorn calls it the worst and says he hates Frowntown, and Unikitty and her friends see the people as cranky

Unikitty’s gang tries to cheer the people of Frowntown up

The Unikingdom and Frowntown both have a concept of pranking others, and a concept of war. They have a prank war in the episode Prank War

Brock and Master Frown often partake in Unikingdom stuff, as I said before. Mostly, it’s to ruin Unikitty’s day. Is there anyone else in Frowntown like them?

Courts in Frowntown don’t work like the Unikingdom’s. This is evident by Master Frown saying, “This is not how court is supposed to work!” when he goes to Unikitty Court.

A wiki editor compared Frowntown to Gotham City

The art director for the show compared it to Tokyo

Does Frowntown have any theme parks? How do Master Frown and Brock know what a theme park is? (I put this in the Architecture section, but I think it’s more fitting to put it here)

Art in Frowntown:

Darker, much more muted colors are used.

They are put together with brighter greens and yellows.

Vertical banners that look like vertical gonfalons and have frowny faces

Square shapes

Symbols like frowns, storm clouds, and lightning are utilized

Spray paint/graffiti

Portraits

Photography

Crocheting (In Float On, Master Frown says he’s working on crochet)

Master Frown’s art style- surreal art? Cubism?

Scribbles with pencils and color pencils

Drawings are done on small pieces of paper, or large pieces of paper. Easels are used.

Dark statues of figures making sad/scared expressions; they can have round or square heads

That thing in art where a shape starts on one page/canvas/whatever and ends on another

Sticky notes appear to be used a lot

Tongue twisters? (Brock was legitimately trying to say You Know You Need Unique New York in Unikitty News.)

Frowntown citizens have TVs, and it seems like they typically watch shows like Soggy Cereal (Master Frown and Brock were watching the Soggy Cereal marathon)

Sad Fellas is a movie that is playing at a movie theater

There’s a poster for Sad Times 4 in Master Frown and Brock’s apartment

Radios and speakers are used

Classical music?

Whatever song Omeletta is to the tune of

Rap music?

Turntables?

Singing

Traditions, Customs, and Holidays in Frowntown:

Birthdays are celebrated very similarly to the Unikingdom. There’s presents, cake, banners, and the Happy Birthday song.

Frowntown citizens also celebrate their birthdays IN the Unikingdom. Master Frown did when he was a kid. (How many people go to the Unikingdom to celebrate their birthdays?)

Valentine’s Day? (Master Frown and Brock were in a Valentine’s Day drawing by one of the show’s directors, Careen Ingle)

Halloween? (Master Frown and Brock were in both Halloween specials)

Christmas?! (Master Frown and Brock were in the Christmas special, and they had their house decorated)

No references to Christianity are anywhere to be seen in Frowntown

Snow Day. The Unikingdom observes this day as a fun winter holiday. For Frowntown’s residents, however, there’s slippery ice, they shovel snow, there’s lots of sadness and cold, people stroll down the street, it chills their hearts, and they fall on the ground

Parades? Parade Day? (Master Frown showed up in his own personalized float to ruin Unikitty’s parade)

Sleepovers? (Brock went to Unikitty’s sleepover. “Won’t Master Frown wonder where you are?” Dr. Fox asks. “Nah, I left a decoy,” Brock replies. But why would he need to leave behind a decoy? Couldn’t he have just told Master Frown, “Hey, I’m going to a sleepover!”? Especially since, in an earlier episode, they were like, “I’m having a party!” “Yep…”)

Do people also go sledding on Snow Day in Frowntown? Master Frown had a sled that he rode down a hill to knock over Puppycorn’s snowman

Roommates can celebrate when they became roommates (In Dinner Apart-y, Brock’s dinner party was to celebrate his and Master Frown’s roommate anniversary)

Kissing people goodnight is customary (Brock and Master Frown give each other a nighty-night kiss every night)

Telling people bedtime stories and tucking them in is also customary (this is also the case in the Unikingdom)

Mannerisms and Etiquette:

Honestly, Frowntown citizens’ mannerisms are very similar to the Unikingdom

In both the Unikingdom and Frowntown, slapping someone helps them to stay awake

People are okay with Master Frown and other citizens being rude?

Landlords want people to keep their apartments spic and span, even though Master Frown and Brock like to keep their apartment very messy

Any Language in Frowntown?:

As I said in my Unikingdom list, this show is set in a universe where Everyone Speaks English™️

Slang terms are very heavily used in Frowntown and the Unikingdom

Brock speaks Spanish, Japanese and German??

Education in Frowntown:

In my notepad, I wrote that just like with the Unikingdom, there’s almost no education to speak of in Frowntown.

But in reality, the Unikingdom has just a few references to college and medical school, whereas no kind of school is ever seen or mentioned in Frowntown

Fighting Styles and Weaponry:

Master Frown mentions karate, so do people practice it?

He also mentions ninjas, so do people know what ninjas are?

Chainsaws?

Mechas/robot fighting?

People don’t seem to fight much in Frowntown

Food in Frowntown:

About this list- Master Frown and Brock mention, eat, or carry most of these foods while they’re in the Unikingdom, but they know what those foods are. So, I assumed that Frowntown has all of these foods as well.

Popcorn

Pizza

Butter

Jam

Butter jam soup (Master Frown’s favorite soup)

Ham

Tortellinis

Juice boxes

Macaroni and cheese

Pickles

Some brown stuff in a bowl that Master Frown threw against the wall

Lots of pasta. Master Frown says his diet is “pasta based.”

Tacos

Carnitas

Peas

Honey

Pies

Whipped cream

Lollipops

Hot sauce

Chicken nuggets

Grapes

Omelettes

Donuts

Cookies and milk

Onions

Water bottles

Eggs (they go rotten pretty fast)

Scrambled eggs

Cheese

Popsicles

Ice pops

Turkey/chicken?

Corn dogs

Cupcakes

Spaghetti

Bananas

Cakes

What’s all that green stuff?

Beets

Ice cream

Churros

Candy canes?

Peppermint bark?

Salads?

Food is stored in refrigerators (that people put magnets on) and in cabinets

Food is cooked on appliances such as stoves and toasters

Similar appliances to the Unikingdom

Tools such as pots, pans, spatulas, and colanders are used

Drinks are served in bottles, mugs, and cups

Food is eaten on plates or in bowls

Utensils used are forks, knives and spoons

Napkins are probably used as well

Food is served in boxes at restaurants?

Straws are used for drinking and for firing spitballs

Frowntown Fashion and Dress Code:

Cloaks. Does anyone other than the Doom Lords wear them?

Clothes usually have dark colors

It’s a similar situation to the Unikingdom, where people don’t usually wear clothes, but occasionally, they do?

Aprons and mitts are worn when cooking

Hats and coats

Shirts?

T-shirts

Socks

Boots (like Brock’s comedically realistic sneaky boots)

Puffy jackets? (Not the Hotline Bling reference… 🤮)

Racing helmets? (Brock wore one while driving his little go kart at the parade)

Judge robes in Frowntown are folded to the right, while in the Unikingdom, they are folded to the left

Costumes?

Batman? (Master Frown and Brock dressed up like the Joker and Harley Quinn to stop Unikitty, who was dressed like Batman)

Princess dresses/crowns?

Headbands

Tied headbands, like hachimaki?

Baseball caps?

In the bathtub, Brock is seen wearing a bathing cap even though he doesn’t have hair

People rub on facial masks and put cucumbers over their eyes? Master Frown does it while taking a bath

Ski masks?

Brock and Master Frown wear desert wasteland garbs in the desert

Spikes on clothes and costumes?

Winter clothes:

Pom-pom hats

Jackets

Swimsuits:

Tanktops (worn by lifeguards)

Pajamas

Nightcaps

Face masks

Bathrobes

Formal clothes:

Tuxedos/tailcoats

Bow ties

Cummerbunds

Queer Culture in Frowntown:

Master Frown and Brock are gay.

No one gives them any shit for this, not even their landlord or the Doom Lords

But there’s no information on what it’s like to be a queer person from Frowntown besides this

Any History?:

Aside from character backstories, we don’t know anything about Frowntown’s history (when it was founded, by whom, etc.)

Brock and Master Frown have been friends since early childhood

Both of them have been to the Unikingdom multiple times

As I said before, they’re often seen taking part in Unikingdom stuff, mostly to ruin it for Unikitty and others

Okay… this is gonna be off topic. This isn’t a Unikitty Confessions post or a Unikitty Salt post, but I still want to point out that the show had two episodes where Master Frown and Brock had issues with their friendship that they needed to work out. Yes, no relationship is perfect and there’s gonna be problems, but I want to say this. I know Master Frown and Brock are meant to be partners in crime. Master Frown is meant to be a really mean guy, but a really good boyfriend. His main thing is making other people frown, and messing with Unikitty’s day. But, beneath his nastiness, he really does care. I get it. And for what it’s worth, I ship Frock, but I still wish that Master Frown would consider Brock’s feelings more. He could really shout much less, too. I feel like Dinner Apart-y could have been more about how, just because he doesn’t want to be at the dinner party doesn’t mean he has to ruin things for Brock and the guests. After all, the whole reason Brock threw the party was for him! And in Beach Daze, instead of smacking Brock’s sand condo, Frown could’ve said, “Wow, I love it! Maybe we can build it on that secret beach Unikitty’s looking for!” I don’t know. I just wouldn’t portray them as an old, bickering married couple type. (And all that stuff that happened with Brock in Unikitty and the Ice Pop Factory was super fucked up, actually.)

(Also, I’m not sure how I feel about the only main queer couple in the show being the one with the main character’s arch nemesis in it. I’m trying to balance it out in my AU by giving Unikitty a female love interest, and by having several other characters be queer.)

Sports and Games in Frowntown:

Again, all of these sports and games are stuff seen in the Unikingdom, and since Master Frown and Brock know what they are, I’m assuming Frowntown has them, too.

Cheerleading (Brock wanted to be the flyer on a cheer team)

Kickball (the Doom Lords play it against the Unigang)

Playing catch with balls (Brock was doing this with Puppycorn)

Video games with consoles and controllers (Brock often plays them, and he even has a gaming channel, BrockRocks93. People in this world can have gaming channels online)

Golf (Master Frown uses a golf club in Too Many Unikittys)

Charades (Unikitty brought it to the dinner party)

Staring contests

Cards

Pillow fights

Darts

Piñatas

Baseball?

Weightlifting

Fishing

Toys:

Stuffed toys

Rubber duckies

Pails and shovels

Frowntown Transportation:

People drive around in cars (and like I said, they get stuck in traffic very frequently)

Mostly cars with roofs, some are convertibles

Master Frown’s car can turn into a mecha; can other cars in Frowntown do that?

People also often get around on foot

Go-karts? (Brock was driving one at the parade)

Vans (customizable ones; Brock and Master Frown had a customized one for the princess election)

Buses (there was a bus stop)

Master Doom mentions splitting a cab, so cabs exist?

Helicopters (Frown has his own helicopter, the Frown-Copter; in fact, for a low-level Doom Lord, he and Brock have access to some pretty advanced tech)

Trains (Brock dressed like one)

Skateboards

Motorcycles

Hot air balloons

Rafts

Rockets

[cherryrainn]

Hiii could you do a Onceler x femreader with PTSD from abuse + rape <333 I really love your writing and I think you’re super talented!!

━━ ✧ 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; onceler x reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; thank you so much! hope all is well. this is longer than my other oneshots just because it hits really close to home and i was actually planning a fic that kinda goes like this.

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; reader has ptsd from rape and abuse, ptsd flashbacks, anxiety and distress, touch sensitivity, mention of self-harm!!!!!

you and onceler were comfortably sprawled out on the couch, surfing through countless tv channels, trying to find something to watch. it was one of those lazy afternoons where neither of you had anything pressing to do, and you figured watching a movie would be a nice way to spend the time.

as onceler fiddled with the remote, his expression grew increasingly exasperated. "i swear, there's never anything good on tv anymore. it's all just commercials and reality shows."

you chuckled, understanding his frustration. "tell me about it."

onceler finally settled on a channel, leaving it to play a random show. he slouched back on the couch and tossed the remote aside. "you know what? let's leave it on this channel for now. we can watch a movie after i grab some marshmallows. sound good?"

you nodded and smiled, appreciating the simple pleasure of his company.

as the channel continued with its ads and programming, you were lost in thought, waiting for onceler to return with the marshmallows. but then, without warning, something on the screen triggered a painful memory from your past.

the images and sounds on the tv became distorted and morphed into something that sent shockwaves of fear and distress through your body. your breathing quickened, and your heart raced as you relived a horrifying moment from your past. the room seemed to close in on you, and the world blurred into a painful, nightmarish haze.

you clutched your chest and tried to fight back the overwhelming emotions. But the memories were relentless, gripping you in their unrelenting grasp. your hands trembled as the room around you faded into the background, and all that remained were the haunting echoes of the past.

onceler returned with a bowl of popcorn in hand, wearing a grin as he announced, "lorax and the bar-ba-loots devoured all the marshmallows. but i've got a bunch of cho...."

his cheerful words faded into stunned silence as he looked at you. your eyes were wide, as if they were about to pop out of your head, and your entire body trembled. you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly. your hands clutched at your chest, and you seemed trapped in a nightmarish reverie, lost in the haunting memories that had been triggered.

onceler's carefree demeanor disappeared in an instant. he knelt in front of you, his eyes filled with concern and compassion. "hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

you couldn't answer.

onceler's attempt to comfort you took an unexpected turn. he reached out to touch your shoulder, thinking it would offer reassurance, but you reacted as though his touch were a threat. your eyes grew wide with horror as you watched something that he couldn't see. it was a memory, a phantom from the past, and it filled you with terror.

you shook your head vigorously, your voice trembling as you tried to make him understand. "no, i don't want this. stop!"

onceler's confusion deepened as he continued to touch your shoulder gently. "hey, it's okay. it's me, onceler."

but you couldn't hear his words or feel his touch. in your mind, you were trapped in a nightmare, reliving a moment of excruciating pain, fear, and helplessness. you scratched at your ribcage, trying to escape the torment that felt so real, even though it was nothing but a memory.

onceler's growing realization hit him like a ton of bricks. without hesitation, he lunged for the remote control and turned off the tv, plunging the room into sudden silence.

onceler continued to offer his support, his voice gentle and reassuring. "can you feel your pants, shorts, or whatever you're wearing? they're real. you're safe here, in our home."

you were still trembling, but you nodded, trying to ground yourself in the present moment.

onceler's next question was cautious, "is it okay if i... hold your hand? or do you not wanna have any physical contact right now?"

you didn't hesitate. with an outstretched hand, you silently begged for the comfort of his touch. onceler gently took your hand in his, and you clung to it as if it were your lifeline.

he guided you through deep breaths, counting with you, "inhale… 1, 2, 3, 4. exhale… 1, 2, 3, 4."

slowly but surely, your breathing began to steady. you finally made eye contact with onceler, and it was as if his presence was the anchor you desperately needed.

onceler offered a little piece of chocolate, asking if you could feel it. you took it between your trembling fingers and fiddled with it. it was real. you nodded, your eyes filled with relief.

"it's chocolate, try it."

you put it in your mouth, and as you tasted its familiar flavor, it was a reassuring reminder that you were back in the present, in the safety of your home.

he asked gently, "do you wanna talk about it, or do you need some time?" you immediately shook your head, indicating that you weren't ready to share the painful memories that had resurfaced.

onceler continued to hold your hand, offering a supportive presence as you struggled to reorient yourself in the aftermath of the distressing memories. the room had returned to a comforting silence, with only the faint sounds of your deep breaths breaking through.

as you took a moment to collect yourself, a barrage of negative thoughts flooded your mind. you couldn't shake the feeling that those memories had somehow tainted you, that the darkness from your past had seeped into the present, leaving you feeling rotten and gross.

onceler could sense the shift in your demeanor. his eyes searched yours, filled with concern and empathy. "hey," he whispered, breaking the silence, "you're not alone in this."

the weight of self-doubt pressed down on you, making it difficult to believe his words. you looked away, unable to meet his gaze, as if the shame you felt was etched across your face.

"i... must be disgusting, onceler," you muttered, your voice barely audible. "i'm rotten to the core. how could you even stand to be around me?"

onceler's expression shifted from concern to determination. he gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. "listen to me, y/n. those memories don't define you. whatever you've been through doesn't make you rotten or gross. you're a person, and people are complex. we all carry scars, but that doesn't define your worth."

you shook your head, a tear escaping the corner of your eye. "i don't deserve your kindness. i'm tainted. i don't know how you can even stand to touch me."

onceler's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes unwavering. "don't you ever say that. you're not tainted. and i can touch you because you're a human being who deserves love and support."

he wiped away the tear gently, his touch comforting. "you're not alone in this. we'll face whatever comes together. and i'll keep reminding you of your strength, even when you forget it yourself."

[missin-you-already]

10, 11, and 12 ?

Thank you for the ask <33

10. Favorite & least favorite character in Apocalypse?

Favorite? Jill Valentine. I am also a huge Jill fangirl when it comes to the games and love both versions of 3 to death, so not really a surprise there. Sienna Guillory was the perfect choice for her. She kicks ass but also has that moment of emotional vulnerability with Peyton's death. If you've ever listened to the commentary, Sienna goes on about how important that moment was for her character. Love when she walks up to Alice until the barrel of her pistol is pressed into her neck to protect Peyton, zero shits given. The line "Those were some pretty slick moves back there. I'm good, but I'm not that good," is burned into my brain.

And on a vaguely unrelated note, the fact that Alice shields Angie with the fire blanket but lets Jill go flying into a table is really funny to me.

For the sake of not repeating my easy answer to part of the next question, I'll say Major Cain is my least favorite. I do like the added stuff about how he knew One from the novels, and how many characters we see in the security division wouldn't have been hired if not for him, but we don't get that in Apocalypse so he's the most boring villain we get to see Imo.

I would've loved if those characters reacted to Cain's face if they learned that he decided the quarantine efforts were to be abandoned.

11. Favorite & least favorite character in Extinction?

Favorite? K-Mart! That kid is queer-coded as hell. The scene where she gives Alice one of her rainbow bracelets is pretty adorable. Claire says everyone was freaked out by Alice's crazy mind powers, but K-Mart is just waiting in the room for her to wake up like "Hi :D" lol. The part where she cries and hugs Carlos goodbye always gets me too.

Least favorite? Dr. J. Isaacs. I am his number 1 hater, I'm pretty sure. I dislike him more than Alexander Isaacs or his other weird clone with the same name. It feels like he directly put Alice through more pain and bs than either of them. He was also obsessed with her in a way they weren't, going so far as to clone her over a hundred times to try and replicate her, filling a ditch with their dead bodies when they weren't good enough. It wasn't just about the Super Undead and altering how the T-virus affected people, man. And he only went to kill the real Alice when it became apparent he couldn't keep her leashed.

12. Favorite & least favorite character in Afterlife?

Favorite? Luther West. Luther is just a cool dude. Incredibly friend-shaped. Good heart. "Resident superstar".

We're talking about Afterlife here, but I do wanna bring up how I love him being a part of Wesker's strike team in Retribution. Leon and Barry have military/law enforcement backgrounds, Sergei is the tech guy, Tony is probably military or some shit, and Luther is simply a dude who used to play basketball. He's here because he heard his friend Alice is here. Wesker probably picked him because his presence would make her agree quicker.

Least favorite? Bennett Sinclair. He's one of those weasely, pathetic bad guys and I'm generally not crazy about those types of characters. Shocked Wesker didn't kill him or shove him in a tube with the others when he arrived on the Arcadia. He isn't the type to be like "Hm... yes... I need help handling Project Alice, whom I slammed around easily in Tokyo and rendered essentially human after neutralizing her T-virus abilities, and Chris and Claire Redfield, two humans. More specifically, I need the help of this snivelly loser." I mean, Wesker did lose in the end, but he sees himself as too superior to have foreseen an outcome like that, and I don't see what benefit he got out of allowing Bennett to help him. Not having to move from his cool bad guy pose in his chair and lift a gun at Alice himself?

[emotionalcontaigion]

The Desolation of Chalant-ness 

 A Life Oversaturated with Concern

For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from an excess of chalant-ness—a state that might not be found in any medical journal, but one that has quietly haunted me throughout my life. 

If nonchalance is the art of not caring, chalant-ness is its mirror image: an overpowering, all-consuming need to care for others, to serve them, to absorb their pain as my own. It is an emotional condition defined by an unrelenting responsibility for those around me, a compulsion to fix what is broken in the world, even when my own heart is splintering in silence.

In my quest to be ever-present for others, I have lost sight of the most basic truth: that I too, am human. My identity has become inextricably linked to the well-being of those I love. Their grief becomes my grief, their anxieties my anxieties, until I can no longer discern where their pain ends and mine begins. 

There is a hollow loneliness in this constant giving, a desolation that festers beneath the surface of my interactions. I am present for others, but I am absent from myself. I have become a vessel for others' burdens, a shoulder to lean on, a sounding board, but there is no one left to listen to my silence.

The emotional weight of chalant-ness is not simply a matter of being overly empathetic. It is the erosion of self. It is the slow, relentless surrender of my own needs in favor of others'. I live in a world where my role is to fix, to console, to be the unwavering presence that others can lean on. 

There is no space for my own tears, no room for my own brokenness, because I am too busy holding up everyone else. The more I give, the more I become empty. The more I care, the less I feel capable of being truly present in my own life.

This emotional desolation is a quiet kind of suffering, one that doesn't scream for attention but rather whispers in the moments when I’m alone. It seeps into the small corners of my mind during the quiet hours of the night, when the weight of all that I've absorbed throughout the day presses down on me, unrelenting and suffocating. The pain of others clings to me like a second skin, until I forget how it feels to simply exist without the burden of caring for everyone else.

At times, I wonder if I am lost within the lives of those around me—an echo of their joys and sorrows, but not a true participant in my own existence. I have been so entangled in their struggles that I forget to untangle myself. 

I have become a reflection of the lives I tend to, a faint shadow of who I could have been had I spent time nurturing my own soul instead of perpetually tending to others. My own desires, dreams, and needs fade into the background, overshadowed by the constant pressure to be there for others, to never be unavailable, to never stop caring.

The desolation of chalant-ness lies not in the absence of care, but in the suffocating abundance of it. It is the hollow feeling of endlessly giving without ever being replenished. It is the emptiness that lingers long after the last phone call has ended, the last tear wiped away. 

I have poured so much of myself into others that I no longer know how to fill myself back up. It is a quiet, relentless depletion that makes the world seem vast and distant, as if I am no longer part of it, but simply floating, a passive observer in a life that isn’t my own.

As I’ve grown older, I have begun to realize that this cycle of self-neglect cannot continue. The journey forward lies in reclaiming my own sense of self, in learning how to care for others without losing myself in the process. But there is a deep sadness in this realization—an awareness that the person I once was, the person I might have been, is now a distant memory, buried beneath a mountain of emotional responsibility. 

The balance between compassion and self-preservation feels fragile, a line I constantly walk with the fear that tipping too far in either direction will cost me something irreparable.

Ultimately, chalant-ness is not a virtue; it is a quiet desolation that leaves a person feeling lost in a world that demands too much and gives too little. It is a reminder that true care is not about endless sacrifice or self-erasure—it is about finding the courage to care for oneself as deeply as one cares for others, and in doing so, learning that the capacity to love the world begins with loving myself.

[sleeplesssuiren]

Currently on Node 19 of Ch8: Tristes Tropiques and this chapter is kinda painful for me to read through and not in a good way and I don't really know why. This didn't even happen to me while reading through Vereinsamt, Lucevan, Nouvelles, or even El Oro. Reading through those chapters were painful but it was still an amazing experience. Maybe it's connected to the story's issue with the history of Brazil during that era but I'm not really Brazilian nor of Brazilian descent so I don't have that much background about the issue (I would love to read it later tho since iirc the story's chosen era brazil is set on has something to do with a dictatorship and I'm from a country who also suffered from the effects of a dictatorship so I'm very interested).

Anyways, maybe it's just the characters? If you look at the current plot of Ch8 in isolation from it's presented problems, I still think it's a very good continuation of Vereinsamt. But in Vereinsamt and Lucevan, you just had all these different characters with different motives that you understand and root for. Like 37's unrelenting pursuit of the truth, Sophia's broken faith leading her to join the Manus, 210 and 888's choice to get swept by the storm, Marcus' desire to go back home to her era, Hofmann and Lucy's drive to push humanity forward to the point of self-sacrifice, Isolde's emptiness because of her upbringing as a noble and her affection to the doctor that filled her with dreams which fuelled her to destroy the land her doctor loves, Kakania's guilt due to her contribution to the destruction of her beloved homeland and the fate's cruel trick to deny her of the absolution of her sins. Even villain characters such as Arcana are kinda hard to hate just because of the fact that you know Constantine exists lmao. But for me, the only characters I like in this chapter are Anjo, Vertin, & Urd and it's all because all these characters have built up their character profile from past stories.

It's so hard to like Igor and Moldir. Yes I know Igor you're driven in a corner and feeling hopeless but you also groomed your dead comrades' children to become child soldiers and now ordering them to join a cult so fuck you. Even Moldir for being a mindless machine following her "father's orders" is so hard to watch despite the fact that she knows it's wrong (although there might be future developments since I haven't finished the story yet). I also don't like how the cult is framed from Golden City to Tristes Tropiques but I guess that's just how cults are — mindless and broken. Though I liked it better before when you can see the Manus' motive of "revolution against the human's discrimination against arcanists" than just "racism but the other way around" — but I guess that's just also how revolutions work under the hands of the spiteful and irresponsible. The power imbalance they want to abolish still stays but now it's reversed and they just continue to perpetuate the cycle of violence instead of ending it.

[that1valiantcougar]

Reflections on Fanart

Ever since you’ve held a pencil, you’ve done it. In fact, it’s what got you into art in the first place.

Since then, you have spent thousands of hours holed up in your room, drawing fictional characters and scenarios. But now, as you look back, more than a decade since starting, and then look much, much forward, you find yourself asking; is it worth it?

At first, the thought is an annoying mosquito who is just trying to ruin your fun. But is that what it is? Is this what fun is? Because more often than not, you get frustrated because you cannot capture the character like you want to, you get embarrassed because everyone looks at you a bit strange for being so involved in fiction this way, and you cry at the scenarios you put these characters through.

Worse, you feel guilt for indulging in reading, writing, and drawing these fanworks because all of that time could’ve been spent curating your own world, your own characters. Take all of those hours you have spent hunched over in your bed, at your desk, sketching the same characters, and instead put it towards your career, or exercise, or even towards your own original works.

That’s what it is, isn’t it? The guilt of wasting time by working so hard and so long on things that may very well not stand the test of time. These characters have a story. They have a background. What about the characters in your own imagination? Do they have traits? Do they have history? Do they even have a face? Do you even remember their names?

It goes further than that. The shame. Anytime someone wants to look at your art, someone who isn’t within your closest sphere, you have to tell them no, because what would they say about the art you are making of the characters they may know? What you make is not… Inappropriate. But it’s intimate. It’s fragile. And somehow, that’s what makes it so much worse. They view it as off-putting. “These characters aren’t meant to be gay,” “these characters don’t cry.” And it hurts, because your work is a reflection of you. But is it even your work? These characters, you’ve drawn them, but you have not made them.

They are not yours.

The reclusion is another thing, and perhaps it is slightly unrelated to the fanart, but maybe it is. Again, you spend hours upon hours writing, reading and drawing about these characters. So that includes spending thousands of hours alone, in your room and away from society. Perhaps it acts as a feedback loop. You isolate yourself so much, to protect yourself from scrutiny, and in doing so you end up creating this parasitic relationship between yourself and these fictional characters. They mean so much to you. They’re on your walls, in your sketchbooks, in your mind and in your heart. They’ve infected you. But was it them? Or is it a virus you injected into yourself?

Or maybe, instead, it’s a coping mechanism.

You are incredibly empathetic. You feel things so vividly and heavily that you often cry at even just the thought of things. And because of this, when you watch shows, you grow emotionally attached to characters that catch your attention. And you suddenly want them to feel love, to feel pain, to exist in a world different from their own, but still remain the same character. You feel disconnected from everyone else around you, because they say these stories are “fake”, there’s no reason to feel so deeply for these figments. But you do. And, perhaps, the reason you want these characters to feel these things, is because you do not feel them yourself.

You live vicariously through them.

You draw these characters holding each other, kissing, crying together, bleeding out in agony and being patched up– is that, perhaps something you yearn for? You are so fragile. And your heart is made of glass. You obsess over this fictional romance and intimacy, but when faced with the opportunity yourself, you become so afraid. You withdraw, so scared of letting them in. Is it because you have this idealized sense of love in your head now? Obscured and inflated and turned unrealistic through the very characters you have devoted yourself to? Is the real love, the one full of awkward moments, of misunderstandings, of learning boundaries too much for you?

But, no. That doesn’t make sense either.

Because you are obsessed with seeing these characters in realistic scenarios that often give cringe-worthy second-hand embarrassment. You revel when they stutter over their words, trip and make a fool out of themself. So what’s the big deal?

By putting yourself in the scenario you’ve put the characters through, you will no longer have time for them. You will no longer have the insatiable desire to fill your sketchbooks with tenderness and love and friendship and compassion– because you will finally have it yourself.

And that’s the scary thing, isn’t it?

Letting go. Letting these characters exist in a fictional vacuum. They were never existent to begin with anyways. And that prospect, it looks and sounds like freedom. Instead of seeing the same thing over and over again in your sketchbooks, you will see something new, and something you. But, for well over half your life now, you have relied so incredibly heavily on these fictional characters to carry you through your struggles in life. Through social anxiety, depression and medical diagnoses. Letting them go is letting go of comfort. Of stability. Of your nest that you have created and compiled through years and years of devotion.

It is the death of something that was never living in the first place.

And that’s a thought that brings us around again. You have spent so many years fixated on things that do not exist. Things that, in the grand scheme of things, mean absolutely nothing. And the guilt comes back. Because while you have been slouched over your desk, lounging in your bed, others have been forming meaningful relationships with each other. They’ve cultivated their own original stories and characters. They don’t feel trapped in this pit they’ve dug themselves in, looking around and seeing the same thing over and over again. You claimed that you have this insatiable desire to create, to do, and not consume, but fanart is hardly a creation.

Fanart can only happen after deep consumption.

You fell for the trap. You fell right into their clutches, and now not only have you spent your delicate, fleeting and precious time, you’ve spent money on these characters. You are a consumer. Perhaps the worst kind, because you are devoted. You are, in some way, addicted. And you’re too afraid to let go. But you’re growing older. You’re finding out that life isn’t what you thought it was. You’re finding out that the finish line, the dark abyss of death, while very small right now, is crawling closer and closer as every second ticks by. And when you look back at all that you have done so far, do you really want anyone looking at what you’ve made? At what you’ve replicated? Because you aren't the original source, at the end of the day, as hard as that is to come to terms with. So I ask again;

Is it worth it?

You’re unsure now more than ever, especially now that you’re about to receive a degree to teach children. Children are ruthless, what if they find out about your “addiction”? Well, perhaps it’s not as bad as some other addictions. You could be doing alcohol, drugs, self-harm to cope, but you don’t. It seems a bit awful to compare obsessing over non-existent characters to life-shortening addictions. And then you think, are you even qualified to teach children when you yourself are still so juvenile at heart, your love so dedicated to fiction?

It’s depressing, when you think too hard about it.

These characters, the ones who have held you afloat for so long, may be the ones that are drowning you now. Now that you have survived to adulthood, now that you are gaining responsibilities faster than you can remember them. Now that you are having fears you never expected to have, like developing carpal tunnel and being unable to do the very thing that gives your life so much purpose. Even if you pinned the blame on them, on fanart, it would be meaningless. You can’t blame the air for tripping over your own feet.

So… What now?

Now that you have come to this sobering realization that all that you have done, all that you have loved, is meaningless, what do you do? Do you cry? Do you laugh at the joke your entire life has become? Or do you go back into fandoms and ignore the dark, looming presence of reality that will sit over your head for the rest of time? If this is an addiction, should you detox, and truly get rid of everything once and for all? Do you donate and sell all of your figures that you’ve spent years accumulating? Do you tear down the posters and artwork that decorate your walls? Time is unpredictable. Time is fleeting. Will you continue to indulge in something that you have realized you have used to avoid the outside world? Or will you give it all up and turn a new page, one blank. One waiting to be filled.

Or maybe you do something in the middle.

You won’t do anything extreme. You care about these figures, even if they are just pretty looking pieces of plastic mass produced in a factory somewhere in China. You still care about these characters that will never love you as much as you love them, so you shouldn’t abandon them either. But, perhaps, you will be more self-aware from now on. Step out of your room for longer periods of time. Spend time with the friends you’ve somehow managed to obtain despite being so dreadfully reclusive. Realize that there is more to your abilities than fanart. Your mind and imagination is vast, and it has served its purpose well for the fandoms you’ve perused. But perhaps…

Perhaps it's finally time to start writing your own story. Perhaps it’s time to move on in life, urged on and encouraged by the art you’ve created. Because on the page, it was never them.

It was always you.

You always drew yourself in your art, whether you were aware of it or not. In the end, even after all this time, after jumping from character to character, situation to situation, it was always you.

Keep creating what you love, but also remember to create things that come from what truly matters. You. Your life. Your love. Create and love creation for what it is, not what it manifests itself as.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I know you've said you don't have many thoughts about Revchi but I just wanted someone to rant to since that's apparently what we're doing now and your takes are indeed excellent (shout-out to Neige anon)

I genuinely think he must carry a lot sadness and trauma, that he closed his heart so much. When Gueldre said that all the other Purple Orcas hated him and that's why no one took his side when he got set up, he didn't even deny it or even react. For some reason he won't allow himself to open up to others even when he had the opportunity to make friends. That's totally unhealthy (honestly, the other Purple Orcas probably couldn't be counted on anyway since from what little we see of them, they're the BC equivalent of dirty cops).

I don't know how to word it but there's something so sad about him. He reminds me a bit of Zora in a way, like they both hide their inner pain with cynicism and snark. How he calls himself "just a wretched thief" in the first chapter, the way he somewhat hides his scar with his hair, even the way his speech bubbles are drawn all wobbly??? Someone get that man into therapy asap please

On an unrelated sidenote you've actually made me appreciate Fuegoleon, believe it or not. I used to not care about him at all but now I like him a lot lol

I mean "not having a lot of thoughts" is always relative too. Like, I ended up writing quite a lot for Revchi in that one ask game, which surprised even me. So it seems I had more thoughts than what I thought, but I still don't think it's comparatively a lot if we take into account other characters.

Plus, now that my exams, and this semester are finally over, I have the next three weeks time to do nothing and sleep. Instead of having my braincells running study stuff in the background on an pinned tab, which might affect how many thoughts I have to spare for the fandom. Also, I like having interactions, even if they might be people feeling frustrated over how unloved their borbo is. (Again, as long as it's like constructive; a mandatory side note, because it's a public blog) I know that everyone doesn't want to interact in the comment section or via reblogs, because they don't want to draw that attention to their blogs, which is fine. But these interactions make me feels less like I'm shouting to the wind, and are evoking my love for the fandom again. And I think that the best way to learn to appreciate and get insight of a character is to talk to someone who likes said character (as long as they haven't like... made the character into pretty much just an oc with the same name, y'know the type and issue generally speaking; it happens in every fandom)

ANYWAYS, back on track and to Revchi

I think there are a lot of characters in BC that do that. Close their emotions because showing emotions isn't... allowed in a lot of circles in BC. Just today in our BC dnd campaign we basically concluded "the Magic Parliament, where justice is scrapped and public image is all that matters; welcome to the heart of Clover Kingdom".

Who knows what happened that caused Revchi to get hated like that, but I'd say that when someone is staged for a crime, there is a good chance that they stood in the way of those who ended up setting said person up. So, it's perfectly possible that Revchi was a "good cop among bad ones" and ended up getting hated and isolated by that, probably along with a lot of other things, that essentially just broke his spirit, and caused him to spiral into a "...if being a wretched thief is what's right in this kingdom, I guess that's what I'll be then" or even "they call me as a wretched thief, so I'll show them one". Which is a kind of a call for help, in a way. The man was spiralling. And when he starts to live up to the rumours, and the reason why he was dismissed, he's not doing any favours for himself, but by then he was beyond caring about it.

Why he won't open up, could be a case of being stabbed in the back, figuratively. So, maybe he trusted someone in that squad, maybe even went to Gueldre, thinking that he could trust a Captain of Clover Kingdom, and Gueldre just threw him to the wolves. I mean... if that doesn't shake your belief into the justice system of Clover, what would?

There is a tragedy in there. He's just a guy who tried to do good (as a headcanon, because all of this is purely speculation ofc), and ended up thrown into the mud.

He doesn't believe in goodness of the world anymore. Or that there can be such a thing as "justice" in Clover. Which is very similar as to what Zora feels. Actually. For Zora it's just about what happened to his dad, and for Revchi it's about what happened to him.

I imagine the wobbly speech bubbles to be a kind of a voice cracking up. Because, deep down, he didn't want to do what he did. But he was in too deep in his own head, the cynicism. Because no one would care. It wasn't the kind of a world where people would care, in his mind. The line between a hardened criminal and a knight was a line drawn in sand on a beach.

Who knows, maybe he even thought that stealing a couple of grimoires and selling them in the black market might earn him the trust of the Orcas again. Revchi just might be yet another character that Clover Kingdom failed.

[granulesofsand]

Hi! Do you think you could speak on the symptoms a programmed system may experience when learning / figuring out about RAMCOA?

We've been doing research recently and each time we do, we find ourselves slowly slipping into religious psychosis and delusions we have to actively fight to keep internal... we aren't too sure if it's a symptom of research because we experienced RAMCOA or something unrelated.

Thank you!

Symptoms of Research

Everyone has different reactions while learning about RAMCOA. Even people who don’t have that trauma sometimes exceed their window of tolerance and have to deal with side effects.

I’ll talk about our experience first, then some things we’ve heard from other survivors.

For Us

We had programs running long before we knew about RAMCOA. I wasn’t personally there for this, but I know there were suicide programs active then, plus a good few constantly running in the background.

When we were first poking around, looking up definitions and just starting to read in depth, it went pretty similarly to plain DID. Information would slip away, then there would be flashbacks and body pains.

As we started to notice similarities, alters none of us knew would show up and complete a singleminded objective, usually related to the flashbacks and pain. We had a lot of new psychotic symptoms projected from those alters, plus some mood disorder and learning disability lookalikes.

In General

Denial is usually a first response, especially if the fronters are unaware that the body lived through whatever they’re looking at. Alters who have been programmed to keep the knowledge locked away will do their task, which can include hallucinations from drug memories or training to mess with sensory intake. Delusions could be beliefs forced onto alters or a manifestation of PTSD.

Common pains are head, throat, and eyes or ears. Some abusers target those areas while enforcing amnesia or don’t talk/don’t tell programming.

Some symptoms do belong to unrelated distress management, because reading about people in pain is not a good time on most folks’ brains. Those that aren’t come from programming, which can be as wild as the programmer can imagine.

Except

Not everyone had the same symptoms. There is no correct way for RAMCOA systems to react to discovering this history. Your psychosis could be part of that, or it could be something else.

Treatment will focus on how your experiences effect you, regardless of whether any of it is unequivocally true. Stabilization is almost always the first step in therapy for survivors, and it’s easier to work on healing while feeling calm and secure.

Give yourselves breaks and check-ins. Unless you have concerns of immediate danger, it doesn’t matter how long it takes to sort things out. Prioritize your well-being.