#also tried to give them each features that could be linked back to one of their brothers

[crownedcrowrow]

I put the boys names into a pokemon generator and picked the ones that looked like turtles. Then took elemets and colors to design the turtles because I thought it would be fun, and it was!!

[olderthannetfic]

hi, as someone who is tragically gen Z and only ever read AO3, can I ask: what was so great about LiveJournal? Like, I know that there were fics posted there (and I've even read about the "purge", so I get why it isn't used anymore) and that it was sort of a forum-type thing. But what I don't understand, wouldn't Tumblr fill in the latter function? How was that site any different? I see a lot of people reminiscing about it and I'm confused

--

A big factor in LJ's greatness is timing and nostalgia.

It was genuinely great, but it wasn't quite as great as all of the Lo, shall the Golden Age ne'er come again? posts suggest.

LJ arrived at a pivotal time in the development of the internet both in terms of technical stuff and how many people had access. Many fans who are now in their thirties to fifties first discovered fandom through LJ and many were at a time in their lives when they were feeling energetic and up to making lots of new friends—and to figuring out how to make a site work for them.

I got on LJ in 2002 when it required invites. Fandom arrived in droves in 2003, first via coordinated campaigns to get invites to key people and then when LJ opened up free account creation to everyone. Back then, LJ's features sucked. It was impossible to search properly, among other things. At its height (2005-7, let's say), there was a reasonable site search, and fans had developed all sorts of community resources for finding each other.

People often remember this phase but not the early days of suckitude.

This development parallels how Tumblr used to not have that private chat feature and how a lot of fuckyeah[whatever] type tumblrs have helped curate the site and make it much more usable for fans. Fandom draining away from LJ after strikethrough also parallels people draining away from Tumblr after the purge.

There are people who talk about Tumblr the way my cohort talks about LJ...

And to the shock of no one, they are people who came of age on Tumblr, who found fandom via Tumblr, who were on Tumblr during pivotal times in their lives and ones when they had energy to make friends and figure out how a site worked.

Those same Tumblrites are now making all the same geriatric-sounding posts we LJers do about how other sites lack the required features to be good for fandom while missing that 90% of tumblr's "features" at its height (2012-2016, let's say) were actually fan-created and were basically the same as any fandom newsletter or links page or all the versions of this kind of personal curation stretching back to long before the internet existed.

What life phase you hit a site at matters.

--

With all of that said, no, LJ was not a forum. It was a blogging site with threaded comments.

The key point to understand is that conversation was always happening in a specific person's space. Unlike on a true forum, people were in the comments on a particular post in a journal owned by another fan. (On a forum, there's the first post in a thread, but it's still more of a communal space with less of a hierarchy.)

Overall, the LJ format can have a feeling a bit like you're over at someone's house for tea. There's more of a sense of intimacy and also behaving yourself in front of community members.

Tumblr being obscure and impossible to find anything in does give it some of the same vibe relative to Twitter, but it's still part of modern social media that tries to shove every rando into the face of every other rando.

But it wasn't just vibes: LJ also had robust privacy features where you could lock a post to this or that group of friends. You could moderate your comments section properly. Tumblr has far fewer controls to force people to behave or leave on a technical level.

--

The biggest thing many people miss about LJ is the threaded comments. At least by late LJ and on Dreamwidth, you can expand and collapse threads, making it far easier to deal with a massive comments section. But more than that, things are properly threaded with multiple levels of hierarchy that are all easily visible in the same place.

On Tumblr, it used to be extremely difficult to find all of the actual commentary on a post. Nowadays, it's far easier, but you still have to scroll chronologically, and multiple versions of a post with a long chain of commentary may be much more divorced from each other than what would happen in a LJ comments section.

--

But could we use Tumblr pretty much how we used LJ?

We could.

I do.

--

The key things that people tend to miss about LJ, aside from the younger and more excited version of themselves or the friends they've lost since then, are:

Heavily text-based

It may sound odd on the modern internet, but there are a lot of people whose brains don't like or handle an image-heavy site well. They were everywhere in SF book fandom. They were everywhere on the early internet. Today, they're hanging out on Dreamwidth and still going to their SF cons. They're usually not on Tumblr.

You could follow the discussion

Threaded comments help, but a lot of it is about having some place you can check for updates. It wasn't actually that easy to follow big LJ discussions unless you were subscribed to comments and reading along as things were happening instead of coming along after the entire mass of comments had been left.

The tone of the discussion is intellectual and one's enemies are "idiots", not "problematic"

All this requires is a penchant for longwindedness and an itchy blocking finger to remove anyone slinging ad hominems from the comments section.

On tumblr, it's as simple as conversations happening in the replies on a popular account and that person not tolerating suibaiting and threats.

(And make no mistake, a lot of LJ discussion was in the comments on popular accounts, not spread equally between everyone's.)

It does require that multiple people like that tone and want to engage in that way, but lots of people do want to.

--

These days, I interact with tumblr by checking my askbox and reading my activity page. The vast, vast majority of my posts are ones where I'm the OP, so if I block someone, they're booted from the discussion entirely.

For me... yeah, Tumblr functions almost exactly like LJ.

Also like LJ, while I'm hosting the conversation, if you hang around, you'll see the same people again and again in the comments. They may or may not also host that kind of conversation in their space, and there's a larger pool of lurkers who have some notion of which people count as regulars. Other people are watching from the shadows, enjoying or deriding the takes of the usual crowd.

People presumably do like reading my lengthy commentary or they wouldn't be here, but my tumblr wouldn't be popular like this without a healthy pool of other people who chime in regularly. It's not just that there are more people: it's that you see the same people over time. There's a bit more sense of place and community than on some parts of the internet.

--

So, in my opinion, the failure to just recreate LJ fandom on Tumblr was a skill issue.

Threaded comments were great, but LJ culture came from mailing lists, and mailing lists had the same issue as tumblr with the diverging threads.

We solved that back then by clipping out only the parts we wanted to respond to (you'd write "snip" around the quotation to show it was incomplete). We solved the smaller LJ issue by linking to other posts we were referencing and doing discussion link roundups. We solve it on tumblr by, again, linking to what we're talking about and even quoting multiple reblog chains in our own reblog of just one chain.

--

Tumblr's technical features and even general crap-ness aren't really the problem. 90s and early 00s sites regularly went down for periods of time unthinkable today.

The missing piece is people.

When one is in an active fandom with others who curate or with friends who let one know what's up, a site with imperfect features is easy to figure out and retrofit for fandom's needs. When one already feels out of touch and is between fannish passions—or at least fannish passions anyone else cares about—seeing the potential in a new site is hard.

--

Threaded comments are different and better.

LJ's built-in way to see everyone's blog in your own style was better. The automatic timestamps and the ease of seeing a paginated archive of an entire blog was better than tumblr's endless scroll and lack of clear date labeling. But some of that can be fixed with xkit or knowing your way around tumblr well.

A lot of it is nostalgia for the lj era and a refusal to take the time to figure out how to use tumblr in an oldschool internet way.

--

So by all means, people, weigh in about what made LJ great or how the culture felt at the time...

But if I see one more god damn response going "You can't have a conversation on tumblr!" in reply to my tumblr, which contains nothing but conversation, I am coming for you.

[tinycozycomfort]

made by hand

pairing: contractor!joel miller x housewife f!reader

day five of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: bondage -> read her day five here

summary: He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, bondage, unprotected piv, joel's pov, age gap (joel is 40s, reader is not), yearning, dom/sub dynamics, joel is mushy, fixation, pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc), infidelity (reader is married)

word count: 1.5k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: in the same universe as this one-shot but set far enough after to be readable w/out it!

main masterlist

Joel doesn’t know what he did to be able to have you like this—to be able to steal this time from you—when you have so much else.

Even worse, you’re a dream. Soft and gorgeous and strung up for him, belly flush to the mattress with your wrists laid over the knobs of your spine, gathered in a twist of baby blue. 

He sits against the backs of your thighs, his own bracketing the swell of your hips, cock bobbing in a sticky pool over the smooth surface of your inner leg. You suck in a breath and punch out a whine each time you can feel the firmness of him, grazing over every slice of skin except where he knows you want him most. 

He peers down, runs a hand across the link of your wrists, smiling when he sees the way you’ve tucked two fingers into the hollow of your palm—holding your own hand—like you have to discipline yourself one extra degree.

After taking his mouth and his fingers for as long as he’d pleased without too much push-back, your efforts don’t go unnoticed, “Go on and ask me what you want to ask me, sweetheart. Think you’ve earned that much.” 

“Can you touch me?” He can see you tug against where you’re bonded, an extension of your plea.

Joel thinks it’s a sad thing, the made-by-hand contraption he’s used to restrain you—a wide loop of tall ribbon sewn through the center to leave a pair of loose cuffs. He’d originally crafted it because he wanted to give you something pretty—a gift that wouldn’t cause concern or raise any unwanted attention, perfectly mundane when stowed in the safety of your sock drawer. It was the first for-you-from-him that went beyond his body, something he selfishly hoped could also serve as a memento should he ever become just the past.

It took him one weekend to make and two months to bring to you, driving up that long stretch of unfinished pavement and pulling it out of his pocket, red-cheeked and anxious. The seams are jagged where he spent hours sealing them shut, barreling over each other in a weave to keep the integrity, the deep color of the thread more than a few shades off—steel against pastel. He had tried to hide the imperfections, smooth side up in his hand as he muttered some lame preamble about something nicer than using the underwear, sometimes. He remembers the face you made at him when you unwound his hold, no huff of laughter at his break in character like he thought, telling him you loved it. 

It’s the only thing you use now.

“‘M already all over you; already put so much of me on you, in you. What do you mean, baby? Be more specific.” 

“I need you—need it inside.”

He tugs on the center strip—the binding—rolling a finger over the lip to tighten the slack that allows the accessory to be slip-on. That feature, other than making the contraption reusable, alleviated the issue of markings; his stomach sinks when he’s reminded evidence is even a factor.

He bends down, initially careful to keep his cock at surface level when he hovers over you, the bristle of his beard behind your ear making him sigh, that spark of possessiveness bringing something hungrier, “Say it again.”

“Can you please put–”

“Don’t be smart. You know what I want to hear; say it again.”

Tipping forward on his knees, he lets the length of him run down the crest of your ass, passing through where he can feel your heartbeat, shining folds of flesh that beg to be parted—ever the fool who can’t deny you much for long.

“I need you.” 

His chest constricts, heart dimpling underneath where you’re always holding it in your clutch; just the weight of your desire for him is enough to pull his body down through the ground, to the other side of the earth. He needs you, too, so desperately. Naively, in moments like this, with declarations like that, he sees success in all of this—sees keeping you.

Joel leans back, thumb sliding against the stripe of wet at your cunt, peeling back the seam to get a better look at the hole he wants so horribly to fill. His cock aches, heavy and hot and ready to take. 

He wishes he could savor it—tries to every time—but he never knows how long this will last. How long it will be before you attend the couples counseling sessions your husband asks of you. How long before you decide that a house and kids and the life he can’t provide for you might actually be enough. How long it’ll be before you just tire of him. So he’s greedy, takes everything you feed him straight to the stomach; he doesn’t have the patience to chew, in fear of not being able to finish. 

He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself. 

And he does—uses that exploring hand to guide the head of his cock to the slip of warmth you so meanly demand him to enter, so sweetly beg him to stay in.

“Again.”

He rolls his other wrist to gather up more of that silk, dragging the mess of limbs higher up your back, both for leverage and to remind you he’s strong—worth that, too.

When he slides himself in, he can feel the squeeze run through to the very tips of his toes, the points of his ears—boiling, syrupy heat that forces his body to lock up, terrified to fall over and take his last breath as a result.

“I’ll give you as much of this cock as you want, honey. Just want to hear a few little words.”

He pushes in firmly despite his threats, and so easily does he meet the end of you, apex of your womb perfectly made to receive him, like you’d been fitted for each other. He pants as silently as he can, setting aside his pleasure in favor of yours, not even to be distracted by his own voice. 

Joel forces as much of his weight as you can handle on the bundle at your back, swinging into you with the power of everything he’s too afraid to confess. He can fuck that reassurance into you, instead—make up for his inability to be confident in those more tender moments with the role he takes in this swirl of lust. 

He can tell by the way you constrict around him that you’re close, the squelch of where you meet heightening every time he moves in to the hilt.

“I’m gonna come, Joel. Fuck.”

“Don’t like askin’ twice. C’mon, focus.”

He bows again, bracing his legs so he can wedge his right arm through the slot at your hip, elbow flat to the bed as he reaches down, in. Your clit is smeared in your slick, running down from where he’s giving you everything, and thinks maybe you understand what he’s trying to tell you without words. He pushes as best he can against the bead, fingers working rhythmically to bring you there, knowing he won’t be able to take much more.

You’re crying now, it seems, from the broken shape your words take as they fall out, “I-I, Joel. I need you. Please. I love you.”

He can’t handle that, the pulse of his orgasm almost immediate, the fierce curl of your cunt around him no help. You whine under him, and if it weren’t for the risk of crushing you, he’d take his mouth to yours.

He fucks you until he can’t, until he expresses his response to exhaustion. He’s heaving by the end, forehead to your shoulder where it’s glued down with sweat. 

It takes him much longer now to come down, to shimmy out from over your body, to release and turn and fold you into his lap. 

Cruelly, he keeps the silk in his palm, thinking he can force another memory into it by making it bear witness to all of this; another knot in your ‘relationship’—as close as this will ever come to being that, anyway. 

Joel breathes at the crown of your skull, hair tickling his lips when he finally decides to break the silence, “Do you really?” And before it has the chance to be taken away from him, “I love you, too.”

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

The Isle of the Dead painting by Böcklin in R1999

(Ignore the watermarks I cant get rid of them)

Back with another "Reverse 1999 really likes making obscure references to paintings" and this one features in the special EP for 1.9 'Reasons' performed by Dead Marbles.

(Fun fact: I am not an art history major lol, the Oath of Horatii painting was for a French Revolution essay, and a saw a YT short for the Seventh Plague from Hell painting)

(Credit to YT georgieegames for offhandedly mentioning the painting when reacting to the EP, also I recognise the painting from Signalis ... And Im realising the pipeline of doomed yuri again heh)

Heres the full shot from the EP. For this painting is harder to discern the intention of its inclusion since the original painter never gave a clear explanation to the painting. What we do know about the painting is its multiple versions, the one above is the 1880s one, other variations include a white and black photograph version with each version showing the walls growing as the figure in the boat gets closer.

(For the EP there are flowers present (maybe roses from the thorns but I cannot see them clearly)

The interpretation most go by is that the figure on the boat is Charon and that they are travelling towards death on the River Styx or River Acheron. The Manus or the Aperion followers that left the island with Sophia are depicted here (you can see the outfit under the cloak in certain closeup shots).

Honestly Arcana is an omen of death at this point, her presence ends in the death, torment and destruction of others.

Alright this part will be tricky to explain and again I am not an art major.

One of the few things Böcklin said about the painting was that it was reminicent of a dream. He was part of the Symbolist Movement that focused "on the use of abstract and metaphorical language and images to represent the absolute truth" (Hypercritic). Freud was also writing similar ideas at the same time. This idea of searching to depict the absolute truth in abstract ways could link to Sophia's search and vengeance in the phenomenal world, seeking a truth that 37 or Aperion could not give her.

The composition does create a feeling of confusion and lack of direction, while the Manus are all heading towards Arcana and Sophia, only Arcana is left assured in heading towards the dark abyss behind her. The whole EP is Sophia's resolve and aftermath of learning the futilty of the teachings she tried to follow: now as part of the Manus having to seek a new path that she may be necessarily be sure of but must follow through regardless.

This is the general idea I got from the painting, its fun to do these (the only one I havent been able to do is the painting in the scene between Constantine and Druvis in Book 3/4 since the painting is too faded and AI has fucked up google search)

[raayllum]

I know you were ready to lay CHET to rest after this season but… Callum still has the cube, we still don’t know *exactly* what it does but Aaravos will presumedly need it, and all that foreshadowing about Callum choosing Rayla over the greater good? I still believe

i'll have a more coherent post about this when i'm not running on under 7 hours of sleep for 24+ hours (close to 30+ now honestly) but no i feel so Fucking Crazy right now precisely because i went into s6, our penultimate season, expecting to finally get to lay CHET and its variants (5x08 my beloved) to rest after 4+ years, every season for 3 seasons in a row i've been ready to lay it down, and yet it's still on the Goddamn Table arguably more than ever before

Obviously certain things have changed — Callum's thematic associations with freedom would switch probably to having a role to play in 'unlocking' Aaravos' full power and/or giving him access to the other Startouch elves somehow — but both of those things are stuff I've considered being related to the cube before (as well as dark magic) so not much is actually changing there fundamentally.

What continues to change is the sheer assortment of evidence that Callum is going to play into Aaravos' hands for her (the initial basis of CHET), and Rayla is likewise going to refuse to sacrifice him (thereby shortly followed by mutual salvation theory), and 6x03 is a Giant Sign blinking Pay Attention in bright neon.

Rayla: Listen to me. If you ever have to choose between me and the greater good, do the right thing. Make the sacrifice.

Nevermind that 'right thing' is subjective and that sacrificing loved ones is routinely seen as Bad ("We must be willing to sacrifice, even the things we love" / "My daughter [...] and I tried to kill you") and that Aaravos (one of Rayla's primary foils) likewise demanded for Viren to 'make a sacrifice' regarding Sir Sparklepuff in 5x09. It'd be one thing, mind you, for Rayla to just bring up this Hypothetical and it could conceivably be dropped, but then Callum makes the basis of CHET's adjacent Mutual Salvation Theory explicit in tethering Rayla's request to his own:

Rayla: What? Callum: If Aaravos ever controls me again, if he ever uses me, promise me you'll kill me. Rayla: Yes. I promise.

(There's a few different things we can read both into Callum's renewed approach and Rayla's changed response, but meta for another day).

What this conversation does, though, is link these things in the audience's mind. If half is called upon their deal in a scenario, it's only logical that the other will be too. And, of course, Aaravos has to inevitably possess Callum, and Callum (as a main protagonist and usher of a new age of magic) cannot die, so Rayla has to break her promise (a la TTM) to keep him alive, freeing up room in the narrative to Callum likewise break his (more thinly made tbh) promise as well. The easiest order of events, therefore, is for Callum to break his promise first in order to save/protect her, be possessed, and then Rayla breaks her promise in saving him. Mutual salvation and all that

The fact we have other characters and plot threads routinely referring back to and building up Rayllum's thematic basis for each plot turn in S7 is just the cherry on top.

(We also see Rayla talk not just one but two 'monsters' down corrupted by desperation and grief, so while it may retread more territory if she does the same to Callum, there's certainly more than a precedent. For Callum, 2/3 dark magic times were for Rayla, and you don't introduce Big Extra Scary 'permanently ruined by dark magic' Stakes if you're not gonna use them as a way to escalate things, either, even if of course given that it's S7, there will be ways out and a happy ending).

Insert Callum putting the star rune sign directly down against her palm.

I think it's likely the cube is still involved somehow (all the ominous foreshadowing including and most prevalently featured in the pawn intro doesn't suddenly go away, and was only added to in S6) and really, this is about the only parallel I personally need anymore to keep chugging along theory wise:

Like it's Over and at this point we just gotta wait for S7, tbh, especially when a big juicy angsty mutual Rayllum plotline is more than in order after their relatively fluffy (loved) plotline in S6

[cafecourage]

Idk if requests are open; if they're not, please feel free to ignore this!!!

Okay so uh, I know that the post I'm gonna reference is more than a year old, but I just discovered your blog and I went on a binge and, well...

The Dragon Au Part 2? The one with Sky (along with the other boys, but I'm focusing on Sky)? Where you said that Sky would probably never tell his S/O about him being a dragon despite the trust he has in his S/O?

It's just...so sad! 😭 So, if I may, could I request a fic where Reader (who is, or wants to be, Sky's S/O) finds out that Sky's a dragon?

Maybe he accidentally shifted during battle, or maybe one of the other Links accidentally let slip that all of the Chain (and, therefore, Sky) are dragons? I'm not quite sure about how Reader would find out, but they do; cue them crying to another Link (probably Time, bc he's The Dad™) or even Sun, and Reader admits that they feel like they're a terrible person bc surely they did something to make Sky not trust them, right...? And Reader asks for advice on what they can do to make up for whatever Bad Thing they did, and how to be a better friend to Sky, etc. etc.

I don't like angst if it doesn't have a happy ending, so idk how to end it on a happy note; maybe Sky talks to Reader about it all & they "kiss & make up" (either figuratively or literally lol)?

(Again, feel free to ignore this if requests aren't open!!!)

IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS EVER SINCE I TOLD PINKY ABOUT IT.

Typically you were stay away from battles if anything you were learning how to fight. In this battle though your back was towards a cliff and the monsters were blocking your way into the forest which is where you normally hide. Well… This was a particularly bad situation to be in. You duck and tried to weave through but each time you tried to you almost get hit. Luckily Sky was staying by your side for a bit to fight the monsters off. Though the chain was truly outnumbered.

Not to be a downer but you think they might need a miracle.

Then it happened.

A Lizalfos got a fairly lucky shot at you right in the shoulder. The impact knocked you back off your feet and stumble back.

Right.

Off.

The cliff.

It was weird. You didn’t scream. But something did. It was loud and it felt like the air was full of electricity. In a blink of an eye a black plop swooped down heading towards you. When the blur finally crashes into you whatever it was brought you into its arms and pulled up. “Keep your eyes close.” You hear Sky whisper in your ear, you didn’t even know that your eyes had been closed the whole time. It’s not like you’re going to open them now. Especially with a warning like that.

There was a lot of screaming not just from the boys but monsters as well. A few crashes of lightning made you flinch and hold onto Sky tighter. Slowly your curiosity had peaked and you open your eyes and glanced up at Sky.

Sky who was typically the softest person in the world looked monstrous. His eyes were sharper more snake like and Night Sky-esque scales framed his features. Giving his once soft face a fiercer look to it. It could also be the death glare he had on his face. Behind him were two bat like wings and long serpents tail that matched his scales. It would have been breathtaking if you weren’t loosing blood.

Your glaze was met with his now electric blue eyes, “put me down?” You asked as you had to force yourself to look at the others but as soon as you moved the arrow that was lodged into your shoulder made its move. A curses leave your mouth as you slump back in his arms.

Sky was about to speak but Hyrule beat him, “We should find and get camp set up. For now Let me see what I can do.” The team’s medic was in charge now as the battle had been over for a bit now. “Rancher, Champion can you scout out a better, safer place?” He leads Sky with you in his arms to be seated. When settled with you in Sky’s lap and Hyrule helping you through the process of being stitched up.

You had so many questions to ask but you honestly doubt you would get answers too. “I have a question.”

“Yes Darling?” Sky’s voice was a bit more gravely than normal.

“Are you guys…” You had not idea what to say about this situation as you would assume dragons.

“Yes.” Time said before you could find the words.

A beat passes you look up at the token father, “all-“

“All of us yes.”

“Ok…” You lean into Sky’s chest. Before something bothers you again, looking up at Time again you go to ask him something.

He just sighs “yes. I’ll explain later about how our magic work. Just focus on healing.”

[forestfrolickingfairy78]

Hero's Daughter: Wielder of Light Part 1

Okay, I've always the idea what if Link had a daughter and she grew up to also be a bearer of the triforce, or had some kind of power? I wrote this story ages ago, and been dying to share it!! I like to think that he and Malon had a daughter, who was also just as hot headed as both of them, and inherited his fighting spirit. Features

Follows the OOT timeline/story with Navi as a returning companion

Synopsis: On the brink of destruction from Ganondorf's relentless appearance, Link finds himself uncertain of his fight. What if the power he originally thought wasn't limited to just destiny, but blood? Now the fate rests in the hero's daughter, finding an unlikely power in one of his abandoned swords, but not in the Master Sword.

Completed short story: Part one starts here

Darkness encroached the sky, and a thick smog of twilight perforated the view. Alora paced across the house, the anxiety spiking with each passing moment as time slowed down that night. Several times she strayed beside the door, reaching towards the handle before remembering how her father had told her not to open it, and this time she couldn’t go back on her word. The fire cast a dim glow across the room, but despite the warmth, she still felt a shiver run down her spine glancing towards the window where the view of the castle loomed. A dark prism seemed to surround it, and a bolt of lightning flashed by the tower. It was terrifying to think that anything could happen- that he’d left so suddenly when the world once again relied on him. Unable to wait anymore she let out a deep breath, slowly opening it until Navi fluttered around her, pushing against her hand.

Alora pulled away, clenching her fist against the fairy’s protest- her father’s sole companion as a child.

“You can’t go! Link made you promise-“

“How can I stay here when he needs help? It’s killing me trying to wait,” she said, biting down her tongue. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that he was always putting Hyrule before himself and her. He’d promised Malon, before she was gone that he would do everything to leave his duties behind. Still, this vicious cycle of darkness ensued; once again the Princess’s own needs arose when he should’ve hung up his sword years back. He’d promised Alora too, when he said he’d be there for her, yet it only seemed like yesterday everything had suddenly shifted.

 Navi slowly beat her wings, landing in her palm. The glow around her dimming as she tried to find the words to put Alora at ease. She knew how much he’d gone through, and how he felt about leaving her behind…but he couldn’t undue this duty.

“I know…but you have to listen to him, there could be monsters outside and you promised him.” Alora rolled her eyes.

“Monsters! how terrifying. I don’t care about monsters right now, Navi! They’re the least of my concern, anything could be happening to my father and I wouldn’t even know it!” she bit back tears, realising how terrifying the thought was as she spoke it out loud, and slid down the door, placing her head against her knees.

Despite her father’s companion giving her solace, the loneliness felt so thick. Navi slowly fluttered on her arm, letting out a small sigh as she watched the girl rub her eyes. Link would’ve hated this, if he could throw it all away just to focus on their life he would in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry…I know how you must feel.”

“How would you?” Alora said, keeping her head down.

“Well, there were a lot of times when Link didn’t allow me to come with him either. So I could only wait, and that’s the hardest thing to do.” Navi thought about their time just before Termina. Both of them had been separated by the darkness yielded by fate. Even though they didn’t speak, it was enough to have someone there underneath the stars. She wasn’t sure if she was ever going to meet him again.

Even though it had been three days, it felt like an entire lifetime passed, painfully and slowly. Alora watched the fire, the crackling flames giving her little comfort. Even if she squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn’t help conjure up the worst possibilities against Ganondorf. The monster was ruthless.

“I’m really scared Navi, I don’t want to be alone again.” She said reaching her hands out as the fairy landed, her small frame tickling her palm as the fairy elegantly floated, emitting a warm, blue light. She’d only heard a fragment of their stories together; the lost woods. The fight with Ganondorf that was inevitably going to come again. Time and Time again.  

Maybe she should’ve gone with him.

“I know, me too…” Navi said, “But Link is strong. He’s fought Ganondorf before.”

“But he can’t keep doing that alone, I feel so useless.” No matter how many times she’d tried to pick up a sword, it always seemed to weigh her down. She couldn’t ever get the techniques down properly despite her father trying to teach her. Still, he hadn’t given up on her, but deep down she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it as well the others could.

“You’re not useless, you’re strong just like him.” Alora let out a cynical laugh, leaning her hand against her cheek.

“Yeah…very strong.”

“Strength doesn’t just mean being able to wield a sword, it also means having the strength to care, and to be kind.”

“You sound like my dad, but none of those things matter right now.” Navi sighed, unsure how to find the words to reassure her. After a moment another bolt of thunder struck, cracking the sky in a deep whip. Rain pounded, dripping down the window.

Alora yelled, jolting up and glanced outside where the prism shifted colours, a bright yellow to an angry flare of red before shattering. Her hand flew to her mouth, gasping and felt panic grow in the back of her head.

“Alora!” Navi flew, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Something happened, and she didn’t know, pushing back the horror threatening to stifle her.

He couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t.

She pushed the door, sprinting as hard as she could through the castle town, completely shrouded in a mystified fog, forcing everyone to keep their doors sealed. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she ran, breathing hard against the cold as she pushed forward, watching the prism break. The kingdom was no longer surrounded, only rain pouring down against a black sky.

She felt tears run down her cheek, hoping everything was okay. That he was okay, and he fought hard and won. She held onto that like a pale fire, signifying hope.

Exhaustion finally cramped her legs as she reached the doors where the guards were, standing alert until she regained her breath, trying to speak.

“M-my father. Where is he?” she tried to say, leant over her knees. The guards shared a worried look, but Alora cried, unable to stand the silence.

“Where’s my father, Link! He’s okay isn’t he? Tell me, please.” she said, desperation in her voice. Suddenly footsteps approached, and from behind she saw Princess Zelda hurry towards her, a worried look forming on her features.

“Alora-“

“My father! Is he okay? Please tell me, I saw everything,” she couldn’t keep talking, her breath running short. Princess Zelda pulled her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Why isn’t anyone saying anything?” she looked around, trying to see him in the distance but all she could make out were the figures of various people, from the resistance. The soldiers, fighters, people from the Castle. Princess Zelda spoke, drawing her attention.

“Alora, he’s here. But you need to calm down-“

“What do you mean?! This is your fault, you keep dragging him into this mess again because you can’t protect your own people!” she screamed, the anger growing a hold over her. She’d never felt this enraged, this fear as she wiped her face, shivering from the cold. Z

elda didn’t speak, her eyes softening, finding the words to soothe her, but Alora shoved her away continuing to run. She felt an ache spread in her gut, pushing through the crowd, squeezing between a line of bodies until she stood, looking around, voices rioting inside her head.

“Where is he?” she said, unsure if she could even hear herself over them talk, but nobody seemed to listen until a hand pulled her away. Zelda fell to a crouch, placing a soft hand on her shoulder.

“You’re father is here, he’s alive, okay? but he’s not doing well. You need to stay calm,” Alora shook her head, losing the strength as she felt her knees cramp finally feeling her legs buckle. She cried, wiping her face, both relieved and worried. Rain soaked her hair, and more people drew their attention away.  

--

Alora followed closely towards the princess, keeping her arms wrapped around her, struggling to stay balanced. Before she opened the door she ran inside, Navi closely following beside her and landed on her shoulder.

Link was there, sitting down against the bed, blood running down his nose. Bruises all across his arms. Alora walked slowly, trying not to cry as he looked up. Shock and surprise crossing his face as he held his arm, one of his eyes stained blood red.

“Dad…what happened?” she didn’t give him a chance to speak, rushing forward and squeezed him tightly, but he didn’t have the strength to return it. Wincing at each movement, placing a hand against her back. This wasn’t him, not when he’d always been so strong.

“Alora, what are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Link’s voice cracked, taking a shallow breath between his words as she faced him. Blood crusted over his face, and he held his side. She ignored him, afraid of Zelda’s words. It was hard to imagine him like this.

“How could I stay back not knowing what was going on?” A flutter spread across her jaw as she bit her tongue, stifling tears.  

“Alora, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” He tried to keep his tone strong, but winced. He’d never thought he would lose to Ganondorf, that at some point his power wouldn’t be enough to fight back, but how could he show that in front of her?

“No you’re not. You’re lying.” Navi slowly fluttered between them, sitting on Link’s shoulder.

“Link, I’m sorry. I tried,” she whispered, feeling guilt sting when he looked at her then back at Alora. He shifted, feeling another sharp pain against his ribs, quickly clenching his jaw. He wasn’t sure what was worse, that she was here at his lowest point or that his chances at saving Hyrule were thinning.

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll be fine, I promise,” he tried to push a smile and squeezed her hand, cold as stone. She was right, it wasn’t fair, and he’d tried to stay away from doing everything for Hyrule. Even if he wanted to, there hadn’t been escape from it, bound by a promise he hadn’t asked for. It was easier when he was younger, adjusting to the growing pains brought on by the expectations of the world but after Malon it became a heavier burden carried between all of them.

“I saw everything from home, when the prism collapsed, I thought you were gone.” She said, voice a low whisper. Link let out a painful sigh, that was the moment he’d struck Ganondorf, but it didn’t do much to put an end to it, leaving him be. Any longer and he would’ve died.

“I’ll be okay, I just need to rest-“ he winced, letting out a grunt as he moved. Alora watched, fear still forming as she kept her eyes on him.

“You need to go home, I’ll be here a little while until I recover,” Link said, trying to move, noticing Zelda standing away at the door.

Alora turned away, clenching and unclenching her fist. She opened her mouth to speak unable hold back this time. Not when he was beaten, bloodied to this point. The Master Sword leant against the world now rendered useless.

“This is your fault! Everything that’s happening is because of you and my father keeps taking your damn fall for it!” she yelled, throat raw from anger.

Zelda took a step back, unsure what to say. She couldn’t retort-well because how could she? Link had deserved to live a normal life, and here was again forced to fight. Alora didn’t even get the chance to have that either.

“I’m sorry-“

“Sorry isn’t going to do anything!” she wanted to keep going but felt a heavy hand pull her back, facing her father looking down at her with dismay.

“Enough, don’t speak to Princess Zelda that way.” She clenched her jaw, crossing her arms against her chest. Even after all this, barely able to stand he was still defending her.

“Link, it’s alright. I understand, and I’m sorry you have to go through this…it’s not fair on you. It must be difficult to see your own father like this.” she said softly, but it didn’t make her feel any better. If anything, it stoked the rage like a hot fire

“If you understood, you wouldn’t make him do this! You’d find a way to deal with this yourself.” The respect she held for the Princess was fading, no longer was she someone that she’d looked up to.

Link didn’t speak, looking away, exhaustion tugging at his spirit. He wished it were that simple, that Ganondorf could be dead forever, but he still had to keep fighting. He reached a hand, placing it firmly on her shoulder but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, cast down.

“I can’t say when it will be over, but it will be soon.”

Alora shook her head, slipping away behind the door. “Alora!” Navi looked between them, a heavy sigh escaping before following

[the-library-of-wonderland]

Yandere!Linked Universe x Reader (Part 1???)

“You Spoil Me”

Featuring Time and Wild

Sorry if they’re OOC! I really tried to be honest! Also I know in my last post I mentioned Warriors being here but I couldn’t think of anything for him. Very sorry to the Warriors fans for that!

The way each hero spoiled you left you breathless every time. If only you knew why they poured their attention on you so much.

Time

You honestly didn’t expect the older hero to buy you a new tunic when the chain made it to town. Yours had been sewn and patched up so much over the group’s travels that there was probably no fabric from your original one at this point. It was quite the relief hearing about a clothing shop that was in the nearest town that you almost begged Time to let you guys take a quick detour. Although just the mention of needing a new tunic was enough for Time to let you guys stop there. He didn’t want his darling to be sad. When you made it to the small town he offered to look around with you, making sure you wouldn’t leave them and to help look for the clothing shop. “Here it is, let’s see if they have anything you like (y/n).” Now there you were, offering to pay for the tunic and 3 extras he made you grab (“Just in case anything were to happen” he had told you). “Now my darling, there’s no need to argue. I’ll gladly pay for it, after all, you’re giving all of us a small break by bringing us to town,” The older hero smiled down at you as he spoke. You smiled back at him at the gesture, “Okay, but do I need to pay you back later?” “Only in some hugs dear.” You giggle at his comment, unaware of the dark look he had started to give the man working at the shop. The man had been eyeing you up the entire time you two were there. It was truly disgusting how that man could stare at you so, you deserved the world and more, that man could never give it to you. Looks like he had a job to do later.

Wild

You let out a small gasp at the cozy interior of Wild’s home, for some odd reason you had expected it to be more messy. You put that thought aside though as you looked at the nice dishes and platters on his dinner table. “Oh this is so cozy Wild! No wonder you love it here so much,” you smiled at him as you spoke. “Yeah it’s really nice here. I got it pretty cheap too, although even after I bought it I still had to pay a good bit for this furniture and these weapon holders,” he said as he looked around the house. You looked over at him with a smile before you started to laugh a little, “Well since we’re here now, when’s dinner?” Wild laughed at your question, “Well, I was going to take you and the group around the village first before we ate.” “Oh okay. Well let’s go then! I’m about to starve! Also, what about the others?” “They’re already “exploring” Hateno, so no need to worry about them,” he said. Why are they worried about the others? It’s our alone time. He let you grab his hand as he led you back out his house and across the small bridge connecting it and Hateno. “So, are you taking me on a tour or did you trick me into running errands for the Old Man for you?” Wild chuckled, “Neither actually, I’d thought I’d spoil you. Maybe buy you something or bring you to a little spot to relax for a bit. You’ve been a great help around here.” “Oh, you really don’t have to Link.” You called him his name. You never do that with the others. “No, I want to.” By this time, you two had already made it to the main area of town. He led you through the main path, taking you towards the ancient lab he had mentioned was there. He was silently praying that neither of you would run into the others. They would definitely ruin his treat for you, and you could barely ever say no to the other heroes’ ideas of fun for the group. “Are you taking me to the lab you had talked about?” You looked at him after asking, curiosity painting your face. “No. There’s a small path leading to the beach near here. I want to take you there. It probably looks different from the beaches you know of, but I’m hoping you love it just as much.” He had a small smile on his face as he spoke softly. You let him lead you up to the split path and down towards the beach. You noticed the weather there was a bit gloomy, but the beach was still breathtaking. When you reached the sandy shore you instantly bent down to take your shoes off and ran towards the water. “Come get in the water with me Wild!” You laughed as you spoke, kicking your feet in the water. The Champion smiled at your excitement jogging over to the shore and getting ready to take his boots off. If only you knew how he felt.

[shallowoak]

Design Chatter - MLP Grand Line Gang!

>> Link to the art here! <<

I really enjoyed rambling about the East Blue Crew, so I'm back again to talk your ears off about the rest of the crew now that I've finally posted them! Once again, fair warning that this will be long and there will be spoilers!

I kept a few simple guidelines for myself in mind:

Keep it fun and surprising, in the spirit of the original!

I draw in the G4 style, but features from every gen and toy line are fair game

I love back card / blind bag style character blurbs. I live for crumbs of worldbuilding XD

I've purposefully not included cutie marks because I suck at drawing them and I'd never finish a piece if I had to draw them :v (maybe a post for another time?)

🌸Chopper🌸

In-universe:

Further than the Crystal Empire, even beyond Yakyakistan, Chopper hails from the frozen north. A skilled potion maker, he loves to brew warm healing tonics with ingredients found on the mountain. He's hoping he can learn to skywalk like the Reindeer in Robin's books!

Design:

Every now and again, it's nice to do a 1:1 translation of a character rather than a full reimagining! Reindeer appear in G4 during the special Best Gift Ever, so it's the little changes that make Chopper 'ponified'- the lighter patches on his face, ears and tummy. The swirls in his inner ears. Changing his hoof/antler colour to be just a little more pink. One thing I did add was little baby deer spots shaped like blossom for an extra pop of colour!

I chose to draw him in Defence Point because it's cuter 🥺 my mind also thought to draw Brain Point in the Equestria Girls style and I'm not sure the world is ready for that 😂 Defence Point was also supposed to harken back to a popular fluffy fan character- before I found out their creator isn't someone I want to be celebrating. But you live and learn when trying to reference fandom culture 🤷

📚Robin📚

In-universe:

Many hooves make light work! Having studied at the Mythica University and Golden Oak libraries alike, this magic scholar always has a spell to get her crew out of a pinch! During her travels, the wily CP9 tried restraining her magic with a tennis ball!

Design:

Hm. Put into pony form, Robin kind of looks like Twilight. Similar key colours and hairstyles can't really be avoided. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, though. Something about this combination must just give off 'bookish'! Besides, there are plenty of character foils to Twilight that look like her in canon, too. Moondancer, Sunset, Starlight... Robin could fall into this category- a promising student led astray by forces beyond her control. It certainly isn't easy being a magic student.

Rather than an odd outward appearance, Robin's fear factor is based on people's perceptions of her abilities. I feel like she's similar to Nami in looking normal and still getting demonised. Left to her own devices, she just likes to travel and study! So I didn't want to give her a super edgy design and feed into those misconceptions. Robin is at her coolest when she chooses to be wicked for herself!

She's a normal pony, but she's still a little more dark and mysterious than someone like Twilight. That sweeping black mane, heavy hooves, and curved horn—not to mention that colourful glint in her eye—make her sturdier than a Unicorn like Sanji, and her calm confidence lets you know it! I like to think Nami has inspired her to look into getting a big flowery leg design, but she's a little worried about being even more recognisable.

⭐Franky⭐

In-universe:

Self-acceptance and found family are super! Building each other up is almost as satisfying as building new airships... almost. This loud n' proud Griffon makes Canterlot cruisers and Ornithian pirate ships alike! Lately, within the crew, he's been helping Usopp come to terms with being a Cutie Mark-less creature. Every creature has worth and is deserving of love, with or without a mark!

Design:

Franky just kinda washed up from somewhere and that really ignited my imagination when it came to his appearance. From the start, I was adamant that he should be a creature with 'fingers'. There's something about crafting with your hands that can't be recreated with Unicorn magic.

MLP Griffons are known for their strong personalities and love of precious metals- so I thought one was a great fit for the unapologetic, totally authentic Franky! This larger body also gives him more space to customise, more feathers and fluff to style!

Horse noses are very closely linked to the shape of their mouths, so having the top half of his beak be metal avoided a lot of weird imagery. His pre-time skip design shows less of his cyborg nature, but being able to use bird forelegs definitely helped to dampen the weirdness of his bulky arms more than the noodly legs of a pony. Without the differentiation between fore and upper leg, I think he'd just look swollen! Besides, you do not want to take a strong right with added claws 😬

I think it's definitely easier to imagine a solo Griffon making ships than a solo pony! His large wings and long tail help keep him safe and balanced while he works high up, and his muscular back limbs help shift heavy materials. Those back legs are coloured to look like his Speedo, as they appear less fluffy than the rest of him.

🎶Brook🎶

In-universe:

This lifelong sailor knows no pony is an island. Music can bring every creature and animal on the seas together- if only you stop to listen ❤️ All our paths are bound to cross again one day, even if the seas are wide! Magic works in mysterious ways, no bones about it!

Design:

I felt that if I was going to go to the effort of drawing a full pony skeleton, I didn't want to then cover my hard work up with clothes. Now I'm thinking I should've- the structure on those limbs was hard to draw! I looked at real horse skellies, the Hidden Dissectibles figures, and even the 'Don't Mine at Night' MLP crossover parody song... None of it made it any easier 😂 would not recommend.

Seeing as there wasn't much I could do with his base design, I decided instead to add to it! In the climax of the Rainbow Rocks movie, the Siren villains summon giant magical projections of themselves to attack. This reminded me of Brook's soul leaving his body- so that's what I drew! Though it doesn't have any mind control powers, I still wouldn't advise touching this frosty apparition... or any of the sound waves it produces!

☀️Jinbei☀️

In-universe:

Design:

Keeps up with 'current' affairs! This sagely Seapony is a pillar of the community as well as Equestria! He helps the crew stay on course (emotionally and literally) as the world changes and expands around them- it's always an exciting time both above and below the surface!

I should've been more forward-thinking and drawn him up for Mermay! Seaponies have a long history with the MLP universe, appearing alongside their land counterparts at the start of G1- a fact I think is very fitting for his character. Of course, Jinbei's design is based on Whale Sharks, and Fishmen/Merfolk as a whole are so unique with how they can be designed. Seaponies too are different in every generation- so I had a lot of fun incorporating as many unique elements as I could!

I couldn't exactly make a horse wide and flat to mimic a Whale Shark's body as he does in his canon appearance, so I decided instead to lean in more to the cute spots and shark-shaped tail fin! Then I extended his sideburns to create a softer border between his body colours and to add back some visual interest lost by removing the large membrane fin G4 Seaponies have. Jinbei is already pretty hefty and strong, so a little extra fluff doesn't noticeably slow him down.

It's certainly more difficult to imagine hair as fins; they're so much more rigid. Without individual strands or the ability to curl like natural hair, it's a lot harder to suggest diverse textures. But I still think the semi-transparent look is a lot of fun to look at and layer, and it helps his blonde streaks stand out!

Though I could've put the sun brand on his flank, it just didn't look or feel right when we're so used to seeing it on his chest. Seaponies don't usually get their own marks, and the sun is a widely used symbol of freedom. Leaving his flank free still gives me the option of giving him a unique mark in the future- he's still a prominent individual in his own right!

[trilobi-te]

Chipspeech Twitter Archive Update

Hi I should have done this months ago.. I do not know when (or if) I am going to finish that website lmao. So I am just going to share my notes from Google Docs. Should be easier to read than the original posts and helpful as a starting point if anyone else decides to make a website :3

The documents are all on commenting mode so feel free to make comments to bookmark things for yourself or write your thoughts or whatever. Under the cut I have put some formatting notes.

It's a folder, each year of Twitter posts is its own document (I tried to compile them into one but it lagged too much). There is also a document with all of the original Tumblr posts (from the accounts I could find, no tags yet but I will go back and get them eventually, also no dates but they're all from 2015), and one with the bios from the official website for ease of access.

The formatting is a little (a lot) weird and there are probably pictures that need resizing/transcription but I figured it's better to give people access now. The text is small (to keep the page count as low as possible) so you will have to zoom in.

It goes by day, organized with a bulleted list. The top level bullets are each character that tweeted that day. The second level bullets are original tweets/retweets by that character. The third+ level bullets are comment threads under that tweet, the organization here is inconsistent but imo still readable (if you think something needs an edit for clarity let me know and I'll fix it).

For each character's section of the list, normal text is that character's tweets/comments. Italicized text is anyone who is not that character. If it is labeled with unitalicized text, it is that character/important account (e.g. the official Chipspeech account), otherwise it is a fan. I also included some labels and/or clarifying comments for Vocaloid producers I like, they're not central to the story though

I got rid of the line breaks within the tweets when copying them down because it was easier to format. Sorry about that. Idk how to fix it other than going through everything again but it doesn't take away from the story so I'm leaving it for now.

If something came from a website other than Twitter, I tried to provide the link (unless its content was deleted). I did my best to transcribe the Clyp posts that were not deleted.

If something is a text-only retweet, it is marked with [retweet]. If it includes an image, it's probably a screenshot of the whole thing. I only included retweets that felt story-relevant (so no miscellaneous cat pictures, Apple-related aesthetic images, etc.), but if people really want it I can go back and add the rest.

Deleted tweets are noted with [deleted tweet], with the characters they came from if applicable. Idk how Twitter works but it the person in the thread is replying to the username of a certain character, I assumed it was that character's tweet that had been deleted. If something says [deleted Dandy thread], assume there is a deleted Dandy tweet in between each of the listed tweets (or another character, but it's usually Dandy). That was meant to be a temporary time-saver and I've gone back and fixed the ones I've found, but there's probably more I accidentally skipped.

Anything not in English is translated in a comment. Except the X-Sampa (I will fix that sometime but there's not much of it). Also it was done with the built-in Google Translate feature so it may be a little incorrect. Unclear pictures and whatnot also have clarifying comments. I can add more clarifying comments (or image IDs) if anyone needs them.

I tried not to include any unattributed fanart but there are some that I forgot to copy the handle for (I am also fixing these when I find them).

As for any future updates to this folder as a whole, I kind of want to go back through each account's liked tweets to see if there's anything funny in there but idk when that will be. That would probably be its own document.

Honestly I should have given everyone access back in June.. oops. If you have any questions you can put them in a comment on this post (or reach out to me another way, idk). As I mentioned before, feel free to use all of this as a starting point if you're making your own website.

I'll pin this post so it's findable in the future. Also sorry for disappearing for several months (it will happen again).

[faerunscursed]

"Did you really think I was going to leave you alone?" Zariel's voice carried through the smooth darkness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Oppressively loud, it boomed against Karlach's ears and yet seemed to also originate from inside of her. As the darkness peeled itself away, Karlach would find herself on a smooth, yet firm, white surface. Tree trunks or maybe wicked mountains twisted around her, reaching for the skies. However, suddenly, there was a twitch of movement in them and as they closed in around the tiefling, they revealed themselves to be Zariel's fingers. Her nails, sharp and hooked like claws, hovered threateningly close to Karlach's body as if with one mere press they would dismember her. They were sitting in the throne room in Avernus. Specifically, Zariel was sitting on the throne, if the whole place was scaled up to accommodate her true size. Her wings, large enough to blacken the skies, were folded prim and proper on her back, and her long, rough, leather armour folded and crinkled around her lean body. The flail rested on her lap, a long, ever-curling serpent of metal links, ending in a thick, club-like ending with pointy spikes, hard, yet slim enough that Zariel could jam it down your throat. Her head was bald, making her look more like a smoothly polished carcass instead of a pale elf, even if her facial features resembled the species. Pools of white fire stared down at Karlach with an expression of detachment and yet fury all at once. Zariel inspected the tiefling in her hand the same way a cruel boy might inspect a centipede, wondering how long it would take to break off each leg individually. "I told you, there would be no outrunning me, Karlach", Zariel explained icily, "Wherever you go, how far you flee and how deep you hide, I will always find you. This is a fruitless endeavour." Her nail descended down and lightly tapped against Karlach's engine. A bit too much force and she would squeeze her remaining organs into mush. "If my henchmen do not find you, your engine will give out eventually. And then you will be returned to me regardless. Why do this to yourself? All roads lead back to me in the end, whether you are dead or alive."

The dream had started out peaceful, Karlach sitting against a brilliantly green tree, the wind hitting her face as she took in the nature around her. She smiled as she could hear birds chime and sing around her. It was pure bliss, and a break from the cold reality that was her life. And yet eventually all good things come to an end, as right she was about to let herself fully shut her eyes, everything shifted.

'Did you really think I was going to leave you alone?' Karlach's ears ached with the loudness that came with the words of Zariel, her infernal engine already racing. It had been so long that Karlach had had the minor hope that she was finally rid of her, but now Zariel was coming back full force. The infernal tiefling watched as the scene shifted and twisted around her until she found herself in Zariel's hands, she curled up in an attempt to avoid the nails so close to her body now.

Panic officially set in when she realized where Zariel had taken them, the throne room in which she had been so acquainted with during the times of her service as champion. Even more so, she was all too familiar with the flail, in which sat across her lap and she coward briefly in fear. The very flail that had been used on her several times due to acts of defiance. Not even that, sometimes if Karlach didn't do a good enough job it would merit the punishment.

It wasn't until Zariel spoke again that she gained some semblance of control over herself, a challenge to take to her pact holder. "Funny, I've been doing a pretty damn good job so far. It took your ass this long to mess with me again, didn't it?" Karlach growled, though he body flinched as she as a claw tapped her engine. In a rage she immediately tried to even swat the nail away. "If it wasn't for Mizora you would have never found me, face it."

"You think even if your henchmen found me that would make a difference? Please, I will kill anyone you throw at me because I will never fucking go back to Avernus, you understand? I will do anything and everything so long as I don't have to see you ever that shit hole ever again." Karlach spat on Zariel's hand in disgust. "I'm not your champion anymore."@shimmerbeasts

[edupiii]

🦇The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield Update!!💛

Now I’m not entirely sure how many people on here actually read my fic The Cryptic Tales of Coppersfield, but incase you do I just wanna give a small update!

I’m more than halfway through finishing Chapter 10 as well as beginning Chapter 11, however, I am in the middle of final exams and essays for my first year of uni so my attention is focused on that stuff. I checked the other day and realized I hadn’t posted a new chapter in a while so I just wanted to put out this PSA incase any readers were wondering what was happening.

I’m also finishing up the designs for Lizzy and Khan, and sketched out Alice and Beau (even though they aren’t gonna show up for a while, I wanted to draw them). I think I’ll be making a new design for Uzi and possibly Thad since they were the first ones I made and looking back I think I could do better on them. To thank you for your patience and understanding, here is the intro to the next chapter!!

(Uzi uses she/they pronouns interchangeably btw, just a heads up incase you get confused reading)

TW: mention of body horror

Chpt 10, Game Plan

It was getting closer, she was sure of it. They couldn’t hear it over the sound of her own laboured breathing and the crunching of fallen leaves underneath their heavy steps; but they knew it was coming. They had been running in the dead of night for…she wasn’t sure on the exact amount of time, but a long time would suffice for an answer.

She stopped in the middle of a clearing and spun around, feeling the distinct fear of recognition growing. She had already been here. They’d gone in some type of messed up circle. But how?

Without warning, the sound of whatever was chasing her had caught up. They could hear it’s own heavy breathing and it’s snarling grin as it approached the small, tired figure. She begrudgingly turned their form to face their enemy, feeling her gut twist as the moonlight glistened off its torn and broken flesh’s

The creature cocked its head while making some sickly attempt to laugh at its preys reaction. It looked like it could have at one point been human, but its length and height were far too unnatural of any persons. Where Uzi assumed its eyes would be was covered by greasy hair while its mouth hung open. It’s not that it was opening its mouth, it’s that it no longer had a bottom jaw to close its ever gapping gob.

Long, spindly arms helped it crawl its thin yet heavy body closer to Uzi, her feet trying to move but unable too. Finally this thing stood over the terrified teen, drool dripping from its hanging maw onto Uzis hair and face. Its head drew closer and closer, its features becoming more prominent with every passing second.

The filthy hair covering its eyes slanted as it smiled down at Uzi, allowing her to be able to see the creatures face. As they looked in horror, a tinge of confusion began to swell. What gazed back at them were not eye’s necessarily, but two sagging black sockets. In the middle of each empty hole was that strange three pronged symbol Uzi had seen so many times before. They were glowing yellow and shaking sporadically.

Uzi snapped out of their trance as the thing inched its putrid face ever so slightly to her own, causing them to try and retreat. But they couldn’t. She looked back up and gazed at the beast whose warm breath incapsulated their face.

“Wha-what the hell are you?” they asked in a shaking voice. “Some kin-kind of eldritch monster?”

The thing reared back slightly, almost like it was in shock. However, this feeling quickly faded away as it brought its face right back up to Uzis.

“It hurts our feelings you don’t remember us.”

Uzi tried to pull away once again while looking at the things mouth. “How can-can you talk!? Some psychic link! You don’t even-“

“Easier to assimilate then explain.”

A large claw seemed to almost emerge from the shadows, its skin black with webbing between the talons. It rose up quickly and came back down on Uzi who readied for their painful demise, when suddenly-

———

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

AGN!

Uzi shot straight up from their sleeping position, her alarm clock blaring it’s awful symphony. The noise hurting her very being, Uzi wasted no time scrambling over and slamming a shaking fist on the old electronic. It finally shut up.

Leaning back slightly, Uzi began to notice how much they were shaking. Their breathing was incredibly heavy with her heart rate sending small tremors throughout her body. She also began to notice how sweaty they were (gross! i hate waking up sweaty)

However, like the past week of restless dreams, it’s memory quickly faded from her mind. They couldn’t recall any of it. At least…they’d like to not recall any of it, because the one thing that stuck in her head were the unnerving words that were spoken to them before they awoke.

Spoken in that god awful, familiar monotone voice that chirped in their head.

______

[battle-of-alberta]

Can you tell me more about the wildlife in alberta? there seems to be lots of it! I heard there used to be bison? Have the bison come back or are they extinct now?

Parks Pass: What are Bison?

I've been working on this for well over a month, although I've been thinking about it since I received this ask last fall. Bison are so central and important in prairie history, ecology, spirituality, etc. and I feel that they exemplify this more than perhaps any other living thing here... I don't think I will go this in depth into other wildlife for this series.

I am not a naturalist nor do I represent Parks Canada or related organizations, all of this information has been sourced through reports from Parks Canada, organizations like CPAWS, etc. There are a lot of questions surrounding ecology, legalities, and reconciliation with Indigenous peoples that I just am not equipped to answer by myself... but I wanted to give as clear an overview as I could of the challenges and successes around bison in Alberta.

More notes, close ups, etc. below. I will try to link to some sources in the notes as a reblog.

I tried my best to make each panel stand mostly on its own so that you could read them in any order, but I hope there is a bit of a flow to the information... The pieces were slightly bigger than my scanner, so I apologize for some blurry writing and cropped edges!

(yak left, bison centre, buffalo right) (You will find all three domestic in Alberta, at least at agricultural fairs if not commercially)

[ badum tishhhhhhh]

I tried to get the moose and our guides to scale physically, but it was tricky! Also: the summer ochre cape tends to appear on male plains bison.

There is debate as to whether wood and plains bison should be classified as separate species at all. The fact is, there remains a legal distinction in Alberta that will become relevant in a few panels.

This safety tip is if you're on foot- in a car, obviously stay in your vehicle! Don't attempt to drive through bison either, just let them pass!

The "Ecology" title got cut here, my apologies.

Some other ways bison improve the ecosystem is by literally rolling around and trampling on the landscape, the churning of the land and the fertilization from buffalo dung helps plants and insects thrive, which in turn benefits all creatures along the food chain. Cows do not nearly replace the magnitude to which bison benefit the prairie.

Often in school, the sole fact one might learn about the First Nations of the plains involves a diagram of all the uses of each part of a bison. These descriptions have almost always been in the past tense, in order to place Indigenous peoples and their ways of life purely in the past. This is not a reflection of reality- many Indigenous folks in Alberta are still maintaining their traditions and their relationships with bison today. The tee pee here is based off of a Blackfoot design featured at the Royal Alberta Museum. Also pictured is a drying rack of meat, and a bison stomach suspended as a cooking pot. Pemmican is often described these days as a "superfood" or the ultimate protein bar; it is a mixture of dried meat and berries that both preserves well and is extremely nourishing.

It is difficult to summarize the impacts of colonization in a short space, especially where bison are concerned. The creation of Treaty 7 in Alberta, particularly, was a result of an intentional and devastating eradication of the bison by settlers. This forced First Nations such as the Blackfoot Confederacy into impossible positions: follow the buffalo into the United States and risk attack from the Americans or the Sioux as the herds became smaller and smaller, or to agree to the Canadian government's terms to stay on a fraction of their traditional territories in order to keep from starving to death.

At the same time, anthropologists, collectors, and tourists tried to buy or take anything they could get their hands on from what they perceived as the end of an era: salvage anthropology of First Nations in the West painted an image of "pure" native culture that was about to be lost forever, while First Nations peoples were being forcibly assimilated, excluded, or eradicated by settlers.

There is still a lack of understanding in mainstream settler Canadian culture of the human labour that went into the creation of the "natural" "wilderness" of this land. This is something that the settlement, the industrialization, and the creation of national parks in Alberta and elsewhere ignores or erases, but there is a growing awareness and acknowledgement of the relationship between First Peoples and the land.

The prairie ecosystem remains extremely endangered and little understood, especially as environmental activism tends to focus on deforestation or pollution of the ocean rather than the destruction of native grasses and shrubs.

Cameo ft. Mac representing Wood Buffalo National Park, which spans the border of the Northwest Territories and Alberta. Obviously, the main cause of environmental destruction surrounding the park involves human industrial activity: logging, mining, and development of the oil patch. Disease can be easily transmitted between bison and cattle and can easily wipe out already struggling populations.

I was shocked to discover that all bison were considered livestock as recently as two years ago and could thus be harvested by anyone, anytime, and anywhere outside a protected area. Plains bison still do not have status as "wildlife".

The province did recently expand the "buffer zone" outside of Banff National Park, giving the Park a chance to recover bison that have wandered outside of the barriers before they become 'fair game', as it were.

Also worth noting: B.C. and Saskatchewan both protect bison under their provincial wildlife acts, but plains bison leaving those provinces and entering Alberta or Manitoba would be considered livestock as they are unprotected.

Elk Island stocks bison across the continent and around the world, which is incredible! Not all of those original 700 were sent to Elk Island, unfortunately those sent to what was once Buffalo National Park did not make it.

Likewise, a project to reintroduce bison to Jasper didn't bear fruit. An article via Jasper Local I had found earlier (that no longer seems to work) describes the discovery of a bison skull at Talbot Lake that most likely represents a bison from this recent reintroduction attempt.

The Banff bison reintroduction pilot (2017-2022) is the most recent attempt to reintroduce bison to areas of Alberta, and so far from the initial Spring 2023 report one of the more successful projects. Public sentiment both locally and internationally is very positive, with a lot of attention on social media, articles, and other outreach methods. The project is also partnering closely with all the First Nations in Treaty 7, as well as other community stakeholders such as visitors to the park, local residents, nearby ranchers, etc.

Phew, I just threw a ton of info at you! I hope this answers the question :)

[angstyaches]

1/2 I'd like to send a link to a fic prompt (If you're open to them 😊). It gives me Sharlie vibes, and even though there's sickness involved I think it's a good one for them to angst over each other - the not-sick one worrying about the sick one and trying to let them rest, but also stressing over why they weren't told and having to find them like this, and the sick one feeling guilty for being a bother but also being grateful. Good couple shit 😁

Aagghh, I'm sorry, I deviated a bit from the exact wording of the prompt and it became more of a starting point, but I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for waiting 🖤

Prompt

Word Count: 3,000ish

CW: nightmare (skip to the first "___" ellipses to avoid it), fever, emeto, anxious caretaker, out-of-it sickie.

___

Charlie bobbed in and out of nightmares like a chunk of driftwood thrown in the ocean in a storm. He let the waves take him; being awake felt dreadful anyway. It wasn’t the most restful of sleep, but if he got enough of it, maybe his body would right itself. 

Fractured shards of blue sky were flanked by darkness and rock. He was barefoot, teetering at the edge of an inky pool. His nerves were alight as though he were being watched, and dread rose up his throat as he lowered his gaze from the horizon, towards the surface of the water. He braced himself for Charlie Two’s image – skeletal, brittle, angular – to greet him instead of his own human reflection. This was, after all, the place where they had first met, where their souls had been bonded. 

What awaited him was much worse. 

The face of a child rippled and distorted in the black water, his skin blossoming with bruises, his blue eyes wide and terrified, his mouth hanging open in a silent, perpetual scream. 

In true nightmare fashion, Charlie tried to scream and found that he couldn’t. His mouth was already gaping, too, as though his younger self’s form were mimicking him. He tried to fling himself backwards, but instead, he sank head-first into the water, glimpsing the whites of his own eyes as he tumbled. 

When he fell, he spun, and he found he was in a living room that hadn’t been familiar to him in years. This was the last house he and Jon had both lived in, before Jon went away to boarding school. Charlie glided like silk through the room, as though he were one of the shadows cast through the room by the moonlight. A figure sat, hunched on the floor by the sofa, head buried between their knees. Charlie recognised the flop of dirty-blonde hair. This wasn’t a memory; he had never seen teenaged Jonathan cry, not even when Grandad had passed away. 

Jon, he tried to cry out, reaching for his brother’s shoulder. But Charlie was still a shadow that passed right over him. Jon’s lonely, anguished wailing only grew louder and louder.  

Jon, I’m here, I’m right here, I’m – 

Jonathan flung back his head and roared, his face contorting as sunlight suddenly pierced the front window. His features quickly became indiscernible, but those broad shoulders, those... those dark shadows that rose upwards until the tips of those awful wings touched the opposite walls of the room. 

Charlie once again tried to get purchase. He clawed at the ground, desperate to drag himself away before those wings could beat, before those talons could be wielded, before... before the shattered glass and the blood –  

He was incorporeal and yet he flailed, he shrieked, and he punched. 

___ 

“Charlie. Charlie, stop it, calm down!” 

Charlie’s lungs wrenched and he gulped thickly at the air. His hands pushed at the mattress just as they had been pushing at the creature’s chest before he’d awoken. The sheets were soaked, and for one horrible second, Charlie deduced that it must have been his blood, that the vampire must have clawed him open and left him to bleed out. 

It was only when he felt a thick, lukewarm droplet run down the back of his neck that he realised that it was sweat. He’d sweat right through the sheets. 

“Hey. It’s okay.” 

The fact that Shayne was sitting on the bed, right next to him, made Charlie jump, but being startled by his boyfriend was the least of his problems right now. His stomach was roiling, forcing a rumbling, wet belch up into his throat. 

Charlie badly wanted to reach for Shayne’s hand with his own, but one arm was trapped beneath his own body and the other was currently needed in front of his mouth. 

Oh, god.

Oh, fuck.

This was hell. This was the hell that he'd been avoiding by staying asleep.

“I’m – mmph, I’m gonna...” He broke off into a strangled retch. 

“It’s okay, Charlie.” 

A belch rolled up from his cramping gut, and a trickle of bile landed in his hand. Panic flared in the back of his skull. He felt Shayne rest a hand on his sweat-slick shoulder, and he whimpered in appreciation, and in expression of how awful he felt, and in apology for the mess he was about to make all over the bed. 

“Charlie. Bowl.” 

Charlie blinked, lowering his hand to find the designated sick bowl sitting just under his chin. No, not sitting. Shayne was holding it there, ready. 

Oh...

The glow of appreciation might have burned a little warmer in his chest if his chest hadn’t currently been burning with stomach acid and the remains of yesterday’s dinner.  

Charlie tried to take the bowl into his own grasp, but he was positioned at a terrible angle, practically propping himself up on his right shoulder. He tried to twist around and sit up, and only made it because Shayne leaned over and held him by the waist to support him. As it was, the movement took it out of him. He was out of breath and seeing spots, and now trembling with miserable anticipation. 

His fingers were slippery on the sides of the bowl, but steady enough to hold it in place while his belly forced a torrent of sick out of him. His insides were so wrought with sickness that all he had to do was leave his mouth hanging open – shit, no, don’t think about the nightmare rockpool – and more chunky, pale slop came gushing out of him. 

Shayne’s hands kept gentle hold of Charlie’s torso – one at his lower back, the other on his tummy – as though he might topple off the side of the bed otherwise. 

Honestly, Charlie felt dizzy enough that he might have. Plus, the illusion that he was being physically held in place by somebody who loved him was possibly keeping him from breaking down altogether. 

Rope after rope of stomach contents came clawing out of him, hot and slick and foul. Bubbles of gas were churned up in between gags, forcing up long, thick belches that made his body shudder even more than the cramps.  

“Hmm,” Shayne groaned, smoothing his hand over Charlie’s bare back after a particularly watery belch left him whimpering.  

Charlie had been out of breath before he’d puked; at this point, he felt ready to black out. His throat felt like it’d been punched by the time his stomach settled down. It still hurt, and gurgled uneasily under Shayne’s hand, but at least it was no longer trying to smash itself against Charlie’s windpipe. 

Shayne waited for about a minute, still moving the hand on Charlie’s back in a slow, soothing circle before taking the hand from Charlie’s belly and reaching for something on the nightstand. Charlie smacked his lips and spat weakly into the bowl, hoping Shayne was reaching for a glass of water.  

It was a tissue, though, which Shayne used to dab at Charlie’s hand.  

Charlie grunted softly and turned his hand over to be cleaned on the opposite side. He’d completely forgotten that he’d puked into it. That part felt as though it might have happened within his dreams. 

“Whoops,” Charlie murmured. 

“Don’t worry about it, love.” 

Charlie lifted his head up, briefly catching Shayne’s eye before his boyfriend returned to carefully cleaning the edges of the bowl. 

“How’d you know I was sick?” 

Shayne raised a dark eyebrow. “Impressed?” 

Charlie nodded. He loved this boy so much it hurt. More than having a sick tummy. 

“Don’t be. You were burning up,” Shayne said. “And I know you like to sleep, but you don’t usually sleep until the afternoon.” 

“It’s the afternoon?” Charlie exclaimed hoarsely. “Shit! Rin –” 

“I called her. She can do next weekend.” Shayne’s hand came to rest on the outside of the sick basin. “Is your stomach okay for now?” 

Charlie nodded again, feeling a flush rise to his face. Shayne handed him some more tissue, and Charlie sheepishly used it to wipe his mouth and dropped it into the basin before it was swept away and placed out of sight.  

“Oh, but wait,” Charlie groaned. “Next weekend you’re training with Elliott –” 

Shayne frowned and waved a hand to dismiss Charlie’s half-formed protest. “I’ll figure something out. You just focus on getting better, okay?” 

“I'm sorry," Charlie sighed. "Maybe we can go to you.” 

Shayne grunted at that. He leaned back a bit, so he was propped against the headrest of the bed. “A demon, a demon eater, and a redhead walk into a vampire’s Georgian townhouse. Sounds like the start of a bad joke that Felix would tell.” 

Charlie snuggled closer, hugging himself in an attempt to soothe his bubbling stomach. He shut his eyes and nuzzled his cheek into the flat expanse of Shayne’s belly. Shayne was wearing a pullover hoodie, so there was no zip to press into Charlie’s face; just fabric and softness and warmth. 

A concerned hum came from Shayne’s body. “You’re sure that’s comfy?” 

“Mmhmm,” Charlie giggled, even as shivers started to roll through him. His body ached and it felt like he’d puked up some of his organs along with the contents of his stomach, so he wasn’t quite sure where the energy to giggle was coming from. 

Shayne spent the next minute trying to adjust the corner of the duvet without disturbing Charlie too much, covering Charlie’s shoulders and making sure no draughts were getting to his back. Then he splayed his hand against Charlie’s upper back, keeping him scooped close.  

Charlie had already drifted off by the time he was tucked in. 

This time, his sleep was blissfully dreamless, occupied only by the faint rush of his boyfriend’s and his own bodily sounds. 

___ 

Shayne wasn’t sure if Charlie would actually slump away from him if he stopped holding his shoulder in place with his arm, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk. Idiot, he thought, examining the back of his boyfriend’s head as it lay across him. Why couldn’t he have been happy sleeping in a position that he couldn’t roll out of? 

Deep down, he really didn’t care, though. He’d never gotten over the sting of embarrassment whenever Charlie rested his head on – or even close to – his stomach, particularly since any amount of anxiety or stress could turn it into a churning, gurgling mess to be inflicted upon Charlie’s eardrums. 

While he lay there, he listened to Charlie’s breathing and felt tentatively thankful for the fact that he wasn’t groaning and twitching like he had been before. Shayne’s chest hurt a little at the fact that Charlie had been attempting to just sleep through whatever this was, instead of telling Shayne that anything was wrong. Should he have realised sooner? Should he have woken Charlie earlier, gotten him a cool cloth to soothe his fever before it had a chance to wreak havoc on him? Gotten him hydrated, gotten –? 

“Shit,” Shayne hissed gently to himself. He glanced towards the bedside locker. There were tissues, there was paracetamol (which hadn’t seemed wise to offer Charlie while he was still so nauseous), there was a thermometer (which he hadn’t needed to use to know that Charlie was burning up) – there was even a dry cloth that he’d brought with the intention of running under some cold water, but had never gotten around to. Charlie had started heaving so quickly that it’d slipped his mind. He hadn’t even thought to bring him any water to drink. 

Fuck. He was shit at this.  

Shayne tensed his back and stomach muscles to ease himself up. He cupped the back of Charlie’s head, supporting it as best he could while slipping out from underneath it. He dragged a pillow down from the headrest and propped it under Charlie’s cheek. 

Charlie inhaled sharply. His eyes seemed to try opening, but only made it halfway before they fluttered shut again. He made a soft whimpering noise that sounded vaguely like a question. Guilt tugged at the pit of Shayne’s stomach; if he had planned everything better, he wouldn’t have had to disturb Charlie’s nap at all. 

“Sorry, love.” Shayne curled forward, kissing Charlie on the head. “I’m just...” 

He shut himself up. Charlie was asleep anyway, and explaining himself would just disturb him even more. Shayne swallowed nervously. Please, no more bad dreams. 

He couldn’t remember ever being in such a state of hyperfocus whilst walking downstairs to fill a glass with water from the kitchen tap. He even grabbed one of the silicon straws Charlie had bought for his iced coffees in the summer, in case Charlie didn’t want to sit up to drink, but the whole thing felt instinctual and automated. It just made sense. It felt like no time at all had passed by the time he returned to the bedroom, but clearly it had, because Charlie was sitting up now. 

He was sort of reclining on his side, his torso and left arm making him into a right-angle triangle with the mattress. His free hand rubbed at his face. 

“Charlie?” 

“The... pull the tuna into the boat,” Charlie mumbled. 

“The what now?” 

“Turn the car around, the...”  

Shayne raised an eyebrow and waited a couple of seconds. He was kind of interested to know where this was going, but Charlie didn’t finish that sentence. Instead, he groaned and lay down again, pushing his face into the pillow that Shayne had left for him near the centre of the bed.  

Shayne carefully sat down. He frowned as he stroked Charlie’s hair. There was still heat radiating from his head. It broke his heart to think about disturbing him yet again, but with the sweating and the vomiting, Charlie was bound to be dehydrated. 

“I’m so sorry, light of my life. Can you sit up and drink something real quick?” 

Another groan. Charlie rolled his head back slightly. Bleary blue eyes squinted at Shayne for a couple of seconds. “What’d you call me?” 

Shayne’s heart thumped. 

“Absolutely nothing,” he said, moving the glass of water into Charlie’s line of sight. He turned the straw towards Charlie’s face. “You want some of this, or no?” 

Charlie nodded promptly and closed his eyes. He murmured wordlessly to himself as he pushed himself up into the triangular position again. He stayed a little lower this time. 

“Little sips,” Shayne told him, bringing the straw to Charlie’s mouth.  

Charlie closed his lips around it and took a few steady pulls before flicking the straw away with his tongue. He exhaled slowly through pursed lips, as though it was taking some physical effort not to let the water slip right back up and out his mouth. 

Shayne grimaced and laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder to let him know he was rooting for him. “Still pretty sick to your stomach?” 

A nod, slow and careful like the steadying breaths. 

No chance of getting any paracetamol into him, then. At least, none that were likely to go down and stay down.  

“Probably enough water for now, then,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone, as he twisted away to place the glass on the bedside table. It was getting crowded up there now. When he turned back, Charlie’s were barely open, but he was still sitting part of the way up. He met Shayne’s gaze and managed a weak little smile. 

“Thank you so much, lovely,” he whispered.  

Shayne quickly shook his head, hating that Charlie was thanking him for doing the bare minimum – and at the last fucking minute, too. He also hated that the sleepy, adoring look in Charlie’s eyes was making his stomach flutter. 

“Lie back down and get comfy again,” he instructed as softly as he could. “I’m going to try to get your fever down.” 

“’Kay...” 

He took the cloth from the bedside table and brought it into the adjoining bathroom. In the mirror, he was still able to see Charlie on the bed, and he began to get concerned when the boy made no move to put his head back on the pillow or settle back down in any way. 

Shayne hurriedly wet and wrung out the cloth and returned to the side of the bed. 

"Charlie?” He crouched down to Charlie’s eye level and got ready to reach for the basin again. “Are you okay, love?”  

“Mmph...” came the distressed response. 

“Talk to me. What’s up?” 

Charlie blinked heavily, his glassy eyes roaming over the opposite side of the bed. He seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say, but was struggling to put it into words.  

He finally parted his lips to say, “Is the tummy pillow coming back?” 

Heat flooded Shayne’s head. “Oh. Um...” 

Charlie rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. The arm that was propping him up was starting to tremble visibly with the effort. If this was the quickest way to get the idiot to lie back down again – 

“Okay. Yeah, it is,” Shayne nodded. “Just let me put this on your head, okay? You're roasting.” 

Charlie placidly allowed Shayne to smooth the cloth across his forehead; he even lifted his eye-rubbing hand to hold the cloth in place while he was still sitting up at an angle. The faintest of smiles crossed his face, tugging gently at his tired eyes, as he watched Shayne take the pillow away and replace it with himself.  

He put his head down, cheek-first, and left the cloth sitting across the right side of his forehead. Shayne wondered, for a few seconds, if he would lose any of the benefit of the cloth if it was off-centre, but quickly realised that thought was probably even more ridiculous than Charlie's rambling about tuna and cars.

A contented hum rumbled through Charlie’s throat, making Shayne jump slightly as he felt it in his stomach muscles. He wrapped his arm around Charlie’s shoulder again, and brushed the fingers of his other hand through Charlie’s hair as a quick apology for getting startled. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “Go... turn the car around, and pull the tuna into the boat.” 

Charlie grunted. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Shayne bit his lip to keep from snorting with laughter and jolting Charlie’s head from his belly. “Nothing. I love you.” 

Charlie let out three more consecutive little hums.