#and at the same time the one I should write next yknow?

[tracle0]

I wrote something yesterday!

[thepandalion]

I have a fic idea and I dont know if I want to write it or not send help

[legandairy-horror]

Does anyone else feel a strange sort of dread waiting for new deltarune chapters?

It sounds crazy right? I admit it's a weird feeling for sure, and I'm not even 100% sure if dread is the right way to describe it. But as more info is revealed and the next chapter inevitably gets closer and closer to releasing I can't help but feel a strange sort of, melancholy? Longing? The only way I can describe it is "when you know the goodbye is coming". The strange somber feeling when you know you’re going to have to leave stuff behind, but aren't quite ready for it yet.

warning: words. Homestuck

In 3 months Chapter 1 will be 6 years old, and in 2 months Chapter 2 will be 3 years old. Deltarune is ostensibly in Early Access but this release schedule puts new chapters closer in time scale to whole sequals if anything, which they most assuredly are not trying to be. This has created a strange situation in the fanbase that I don't think I've ever truly seen anywhere else. One where, In the time between chapters It feels like everyone has had their own chance to decide what Deltarune is to them. To create their own version of this story, to write their own themes that they want to see explored, to imagine their own events and plot twists they want to see play out.

@lynxgriffin Paper Trail Comic Being an Alternate Story following off of chapter 1

@lilybug-02 The Chara Timeline Being one of many interpretations on the popular Asriel & Chara roommates headcannon.

@huecycles Andromeda Chapters being their interpretation on the full game

The innumerable Deltarune Theorists and analysts like HalfBreadChaos, Andrew Cunningham, Stuffed Alpaca, etc. etc.

@vyletbunni Deltatraveler being a whole ass fangame based around a chapter 2 meme that it has long since outlived

And that's kinda the thing isn't it? Once more deltarune comes out, a ton of these projects will just become outdated, it's an inevitability. So what will happen to them? will they become forgotten? maybe, maybe not, it's impossible to tell. but either way it feels kinda sad to think about yknow? that one day all the time and effort spent and all the memories made might one day just cease to exist.

There's a lot more I could say on this topic if given the chance but to keep this tumblr post from morphing into a 2 hour long video essay in text form let me leave off with this.

In the age of the internet and social media there will always be a fan of something. Nothing truly dies quite like it used to anymore, regardless of whatever influencers want you to believe. But that doesn't mean things stop changing, that there wasn't a past that has since been left behind. I'm a Homestuck fan. more specifically I'm a Late Homestuck fan, one who came in after the comic had already ended and it's peak in popularity was long behind it. The fandom's still around all these years later. But it'd be foolish to admit that, 8 years after the comics controversial end, the inescapable trend of new fans replacing old fans has left the fandom wholly disconnected from the monolith that it once was. the only remnants of which lie in decades old discourse and fanfiction. Like old relics of a long forgotten city, waiting to be excavated under a fine layer of dirt.

Before I close out here I just want to make it clear: I'm not saying that we should be trying to return to some nebulous "glorious past" that never really existed. I'm not trying to deride Toby Fox for not working in the sweatshop hard enough to produce more content™, or whatever you wanna try and spin-doctor this post into. It's just a thought that creeps into my head every now that I wanted to share, see if anyone feels the same, yknow?

Besides it's not all doom and gloom. For those of you OG Homestucks who read till the end. You remember Heinoustuck? Guidestuck? Nightfall? Fucking Ke$haStuck? yeah those are still going by the way! after years of inactivity they've now started back up again. some under new authors and some by the same author but still!

You could say a lot about that but to me at least, it makes me feels hopeful in a way. That, even if not everything will survive. we'll at least have some mementos to remember what came before.

[majoryeager104]

heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ty for doing meh request :)

could you do another comfort fic for hawks and dabi with a user who gets more cheerful and active when sad/depppressed and have a hard time talking abt whats wrong ? I have a problem where i get rlly more acting like im fine when i feel like shit and it drives me kinda crazy cause no one can ever tell when im sad sooo yeah

i sowwy im bringing out de angsty comforty requests

ill be sending some silly fluff requests ater this one :D

hope ye have a lovely day :D

girl I do the same thing 😭 I’ll totally write it no need to apologize for the request I enjoy writing em 🫶🫶🫶

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Keigo

Keigo had known you for a while now. So much so that he could pick up a thing or two when it came to your behaviors. He’d been taught to read people in the hero’s commission training, so he could read just about anyone like an open book. You however, were a much harder book to read. Keigo doesn’t consider himself to be the best at communicating his thoughts or feelings, and it seemed to him like you struggled with the same thing, even in a similar way. His issue, was how he’d crack through that overly positive shell when he knew damn well you were hurting.

“hey y/nnnnnnn”

“hey Keigoooo”

Playing along with his teasing, you turned and grinned at him, the smile not reaching your eyes in the few seconds that the two of you made eye contact. Yep, you were upset. He watched as you turned back to the laundry you were currently folding. Busying and distracting yourself from the thoughts that you currently found suffocating. How should he do this? Was he gonna make it worse? He shook the thoughts away. It wasn’t the time to overthink.

He walked up behind you, snaking his strong arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. From this point forward, you could suppose he was winging it. What else could he do? So, needless to say the next words he said caused you to pause.

“what’s bothering you, y/n?”

You let out a sharp exhale- how’d he know? It’s not like you were trying to hide it, hiding it sort of…happened. Did he think you were trying to lie? Was he upset?

“You’re acting cheery…but there’s something wrong. You can tell me, yknow. It’s kinda my job to help people.” He smiled against your skin, placing a few gentle kisses on your cheek as he spoke. Of course he’d figured you out by now, why wouldn’t he?

“how’d you know?”

Your voice faltered as you tried to fake another smile,

“That pretty smile of yours didn’t reach your eyes”

You were equally surprised and…happy. You’d had this habit for ages, and growing up you usually just felt like your feelings were…forgotten. They were there, but they were tucked away behind the mask you used to cope. And yet, Keigo managed to see right through that mask…that was what made you happy, you supposed, was that he made efforts to understand you in ways no one else ever did.

And so, you told him what was bothering you, and he listened, all the while helping you with your laundry.

The help was nice, but his understanding and genuine nature was even better. Before you knew it, he’d cracked a few jokes and got you smiling again, for real this time.

“there it is”

He said in a song-song voice, pinching your cheek. Once again, you found yourself giggling at his antics, playfully swatting away his hand.

“There what is?”

He sighed, stepping close enough to place a quick, soft kiss on your forehead, before gently flicking the spot with a grin.

“That pretty smile of yours! The real one, this time.”

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Touya

Your smile looked…different. Touya noticed the change immediately, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. It wasn’t a gradual change, no, it seemed to him that all of a sudden your smiles were…fabricated. Maybe he was just reading between lines, but if you’ve seen someone’s genuine smile enough, you’ll know the inauthentic ones from a mile away, which he did. Touya had earned your smiles a million times, whether it be from his casual flirtations and jokes, or his sweet words he’d only ever let you hear. He knew that contagious grin from anywhere, but the smile you’d worn lately was not that.

But, he didn’t know what the hell to do about it. Should he ask you? Would that be weird? What if it was nothing, and he just ended up making you feel self conscious? So instead, he just quietly watched you busy yourself organizing your bookshelf.

Till he wasn’t quiet about it at least.

“what’s wrong?”

He of course changed his mind about keeping it to himself, because he couldn’t keep watching knowing something was wrong, whether he knew what it was or not.

You glanced over at him, and there it was again, that smile that didn’t quite fit. “what do you mean? Nothings-”

“you’re smiling weird. Stop it.”

you raised your eyebrows, but the quickly furrowed into a look of faux confusion. He scoffed at this, standing to walk towards where you sat. He knelt down next to you on the floor, his blue eyes boring into you. “just tell me what’s wrong.”

“nothings wrong”

“something’s wrong. Your usual smile’s much prettier. You know, the real one?”

“Touya-”

“aren’t people in relationships s’posed to be honest with each other about feelings and shit?”

you laughed nervously, going back to sorting, as if ignoring him would make him let it go. You probably should have known that wasn’t the case.

Rather than giving up and walking away, he grabbed the book in your hand, setting it down while his other hand cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him. “y/n.”

“…Yes?”

“spill it. I’m not stupid.”

his voice was gruff, and as always, it was also hard to ignore. So you told him what’d been bothering you, and he plopped down next to you, playing mindlessly with your hair as you spoke. Once you were done he looked at you with a frown. “That’s what you were worried about tellin me?” he sighed, a small smile forming on his face. He’d known what had happened, he just didn’t know it was bothering you. Of course, you didn’t make that easier by hiding how upset it made you, but nonetheless. “Man, you gotta get your shit together”

“Touya!”

“I mean- ugh, I’m not talking about that… I mean, you’re always asking me to be open with you, and I have…”

He glanced up at you, flicking your forehead. “Just… be honest next time, stupid. I’m always here anyways, so, don’t just smile and act like it’s okay when it’s not…”

You couldn’t help but sigh, a soft smile forming on your face too as you ruffled his soft hair. “you’re probably right…”

“I know I’m right, doll…love you”

“love you more”

he side eyed you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but grin, for real this time. He scoffed with a smile.

“don’t compete with me I will win.”

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I fuckin love this song 😭😭😭

a/n Lowkey(high key actually) hoping I can find someone who actually can see past the fake smiles like this yk 🥲 like if I had a Touya I’d never try to hide my feelings again I proooomisssse 🙏🙏🙏(I’d do it so he’d flick my forehead and call me doll 😁)

Banner creds to @ melwakame/Goto and @ Sharlock!

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Surprise! I am going to rant about my own redesign and art! I think this is me mentally preparing for the helluva boss episode next week and praying to god it’s actually good. I’ve also been nursing a bit of a hangover today so forgive me if my wording is a bit more jumbled than usual

Im a big fan of my Angel Dust redesign, but in the general aspect of my art, a lot of my poses are a bit flat. That can be from either posing issues on my end, trouble with facial features, or just some secret third thing, but I think so far Ive been enjoying drawing much more cartoonishly as of recent. That vox canon & headcanon drawing was super super fun to do even though it was supposed to be vivzies style, but I used to have a style with more sharp angles and pointy curves that I honestly kind of miss, I also miss playing with cartoonish proportions!!

My art style may end up changing eventually, but my main pieces will stay in my usual style and my more doodle-y ones will probably be in a more cartoony style like the ones above. While theyre definitely closer to canon and meant to be inspired as such, the difference is that I can draw diverse body types in said artstyle! I also cant lie, Angel’s chest fluff is one of my absolute favourite things to draw and it’s so easy in this style…

About my redesigns though! This is mostly about Angel, but I’m gonna slap this here from DMs with a friend: “Im so pleased with this genuinely im so happy he has his little pedipalps, theyre technically also still his fangs but now he can move them and stuff and :33 typically for male spiders the pedipalps are a reproductive organ but that isnt the case for angel or many other arachnid or insect sinners id say so I think personally most of them have developed pedipalps for primarily other reasons like fangs in Angels case or maybe something similar to cat whiskers for other people”

In my original angel dust redesigns I just couldn’t find a way to draw his fangs in a way that made me happy because I want to keeo the same energy in his face as the original. Big clunky fangs that stick out just didn’t work for him and while they made him look like a spider, he lost that sort of angel-ness that I need when drawing him so I instead looks to the pedipalp aspect of spiders to move them off of his mouth and more onto his cheeks. It’s a very small change but it improved the design in my eyes significantly and just really made me a lot happier. I wont be updating his redesign post as of right now and maybe never will, but if I do yknow why now!

I just really really like drawing this guy a bit rubbery, hes supposed to be fluffy so like he should move kinda soft in a way? I dunno how to explain it rn, its 2 AM at the time of writing this so im gonna lay the hell down now!

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 15

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slow burn

cw ; none, dottore is mentioned but none of his hideous acts

notes ; WHATS UP SMART FELLAS AND FART SMELLAS ⁉️

I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD,,,, see the thing is that since i published the last chapter of this, i’ve done some crazy things like finishing and graduating highschool and studying and doing national exams and preparing to apply to colleges and yknow….. really normal, totally not time consuming stuff LMAO i can’t promise that i’ll be consistent again as i am still pretty busy with all that bizz but i’m very happy to have finally gotten a new chapter out

ANYWAY ITS MEROPIDE TIME BABEY ‼️ finally get to write my pookie wookie shmookie wriothesley, can u tell that i think he’s neat :3 can u tell that i am brewing up something with him :3 can u :3

also i HAVE OTHER WRITING PROJECTS COMING OUT SOONER OR LATER MORE LATER I PROMISE,,,,, currently cooking up something for whatever dungeon meshi-heads out there that r willing to enjoy it!!!!!

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this line could not be moving slower.

you’ve been standing here for so long— any progress forward is merely two steps further but your legs have long since turned to lead, making each movement arduous and achy. mind hazy and limbs sluggish as you drag your feet through the rusted metal flooring. the most likely cause for your sudden stagnation is the overwhelming pressure from being… however many feet underwater you are, as you haven’t had much time to adapt to that yet.

ironically, it almost makes you regret your decision and you hadn’t even truly gotten inside the fortress of meropide. perhaps this was some sort of intentional psychological warfare towards the new prisoners, some sort of initiation for the upcoming torments of their sentences. even so, you look back on the moment and think it was the best course of action.

you remember the way your heart dropped upon hearing the word ‘guilty’, the way it fell all the way down to your feet and picked its pace back up again, beating a hundred miles per hour. you remember the way you weren’t even given time to say goodbye, to reach out to childe as he rebelled against the guards and was immediately detained by the iudex.

the iudex… you become conflicted at the thought of him. part of your brain tells you that you should be angry and despise him for only letting you visit childe after he was reported to be missing from the fortress, under the guise of inviting you to investigate his disappearance. though… he was so kind about it. you must’ve visited his office nearly everyday to ask for permission to visit the prison, every time being met by the same answer of ‘it’s beyond my capabilities’, but each of them he remained utterly patient and civilized— something that you ashamedly can’t say that you did in return. and even so, he graciously offered to grant you a fake sentence so you could find the harbinger yourself, with the help of the traveler and paimon of course.

there was a certain air to monsieur neuvillette, one of silent melancholy and deep thoughtfulness. your first impression of the iudex had you recalling zhongli as a comparison, but now you’ve grown more certain that they have far more in common. neuvillette is most definitely not human, you’ve long since assessed that, but every time you get a look at his eyes while visiting his office, you notice an almost draconic appearance to them. perhaps that’s why you can’t fully bring yourself to dislike him— he reminds you far too much of you the fond friendship you’ve found within the consultant of wansheng funeral parlor.

there’s a shove to your shoulder that snaps you back into reality and you realize it’s your turn to have your mugshot taken. mugshot… what would your mother think of you now? both her own child and their childhood best friend having criminal records in another country— you can practically feel the pinching of your ear, even if the false charge was something as ridiculous as stealing lady furina’s cake. despite the flash of the kamera making your eyes sting, you do your best to maintain a neutral expression and wonder if the traveler and paimon had already gotten their turn and have long since installed themselves in the fortress. you especially wonder so when you’re left to venture the fortress of meropide alone, with only a room number and no knowledge of the prison’s system to your name.

“hey! you there!”

oh dear heavens, it’s already started— you’ve not stepped foot into prison for one whole minute and you’re already about to become a bullying victim. you swallow thickly and turn around meekly like a cornered rabbit. a particularly grumpy-looking guard is the one who calls you over, expression hard and stoic. you nearly consider begging him to not be mean to you like a cowardly little kid, but he speaks before you even get to open your mouth and spew anything embarrassing.

“you’re y/n, the new inmate, right? the duke wants to see you in his office.”

oh it’s so over for you.

perhaps you haven’t become a punching bag just yet but you’ve sure, somehow, irked the warden enough to be immediately sent to his office. oh gods… is it because you’re fatui? you heard there were quite a few fatui operatives already residing in the fortress of meropide— perhaps the duke has a particular distaste for your kind. the guard half-heartedly shows you the way to the duke’s office, the singular, imposing tower at the center of the fortress.

the silence inside the tower is deafening, the only sound heard is the clang of your steps against the metal stairs, almost as if you’re the only living being inside. the second floor introduces itself through the incredibly faint, almost innate herbal scent that wafts around you more and more the higher steps you climb. finally, it reveals an atmospheric office with bookshelves rounding the walls, a comfortable-looking sofa with a coffee table littered with teacups before it and in the grand center of the room, a wide desk— the last thing you register is the man sitting at it expectantly.

he looks nothing like you expected him to.

by the title of duke, you were picturing an older, posher man adorning expensive fabrics and a distasteful, condescending expression towards the ‘lower lifeforms’ of his prisoners. instead, he’s much younger and rugged, littered with scars, dark tones and sharp edges to his outfit— he almost looks like an inmate himself. despite not appearing necessarily condescending, the duke of meropide is still plentiful imposing, as his icy blue eyes and platform boots send a shiver through your spine when he stands up to greet you. he sticks out a hand and you instinctively flinch away, although the hand only hangs in the air passively awaiting a handshake.

“y/n l/n, prisoner 7458, it’s a pleasure to meet you. welcome to the fortress of meropide.”

oh… his tone is so casual and friendly, it completely takes you aback— like you’re meeting a friend on the street instead of the highest authority of an enormous prison as one of his very own prisoners. you scramble to shake his hand and awkwardly fall into some sort of bowing motion in the midst of you’re panic.

“a-ah yes! thank po you very m-much, your grace.”

with this proximity, you have no choice but to look at the duke’s face up close. he wears an easy smile on his otherwise seemingly hardened face, one that you can’t help but subconsciously think of as handsome. another juxtaposition to your expectations toward the duke is that, despite his rugged and troublesome appearance, he is quite well kept— as seen by his neat peach fuzz. he confuses you entirely.

the duke chuckles amusedly at your entirely perplexed demeanor.

“no need to be so nervous, this is a casual talk that i personally wanted to have with you, rather than a… part of the fortress’ welcoming ceremony. so please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable— i’ll prepare us some tea. oh! and call me wriothesley.”

you do as… wriothesley says and sit on the surprisingly cushy chair in front of his desk as he himself steps off to the side to make the tea. your mind is still running at miles per hour with everything that’s happened and with what might happen next, with what to say or not to say to the duke, with where childe, the traveler and paimon might be right now. not to mention the sickeningly sweet smell that fills your brain even further… this must be some strong tea. wriothesley sets a teacup in front of you and sits at his grand, tall chair behind the desk. he faces you with a bright smile that you force yourself to return, yet you still can’t help but keep the thought of this ‘casual talk’ having other intentions gnaw at the back of your mind.

“so, i won’t dilly-dally with what i’d like to talk about— as you may have noticed, the fortress harbors quite a few inmates from the fatui.” bingo. who knew that your blinded anxieties were actually right.

“all of them arrive here with similar ranks, under similar sentences for similar crimes. standard stuff, really… but this is the very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a sergeant.”

although the duke keeps up an easy-going and lighthearted demeanor, you can’t help but remain on edge. you feel once again like prey cornered by a calculating hound. the smell of the tea still plagues your mind with its unavoidable presence— what’s even worse is that the scent isn’t entirely unfamiliar to you, the memory is just out of your grasp, frustrating you even more.

“and even further, this is our very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a fatui sergeant whose crime was… to steal a cake from lady furina?” wriothesley briefly looks down toward a document on his desk to make sure he’s actually recalling your crime correctly. you barely listen to what he’s saying, still laser focused on recognizing this irking fragrance.

“adding onto that, it seems as though we’re receiving two new inmates today who are arriving on the exact same sentence for the exact same crime as yourself. seems a bit curious, doesn’t it?”

your attention is caught by the mention of the traveler and paimon and you shoot up in your seat.

“oh yes, those are my friends! a-are they okay? have they arrived yet?”

wriothesley is seemingly surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, as he chuckles with certain shock and amusement. he looks at his file once again, eyes trailing over to the two other prisoner registry’s below your own with a certain analytical hint to his gaze.

“i’m certain they’ll be arriving at the fortress shortly. in the meantime, why don’t you tell me how exactly the three of you managed to commit such a heinous crime?” he asks humorously.

wait!

you’ve finally recognized the scent… a lesser known tea leaf from liyue, with no real definitive name for itself— only truly studied within the medical field for being one of the few tea leafs to contain sodium thiopental, a barbiturate that slows the speed of the communication between the spinal cord and the brain, making high-functioning tasks such as lying harder to perform. a truth serum.

wriothesley has served you a truth serum.

so much for a ‘casual talk’. you’ve known the man for not even a full day, yet you still feel a sting of betrayal fermenting in your chest. but truly, what can be done when you’ll always have a big fat target on your back that labels you as nothing more than a fatuus? you’ve chosen this wretched bed, now you must lie in it.

and lie you will.

with a forced laugh, you feign a reminiscent smile. “a-ah, it’s actually quite silly— i believe it goes without mention that my friends and i are foreigners and still wildly foreign to fontainian customs. we were invited to a meeting with lady furina and monsieur neuvillette in the spirit of diplomacy but, ahah… i guess we were unfamiliar with lady furina’s predilection for sweets and just took one for ourselves!”

wriothesley laughs in turn, but you’re unable to discern how genuine it is. you watch his periwinkle eyes flicker briefly toward your untouched teacup and suddenly, the atmosphere turns into one akin to a game of chess— innately hostile and strategic, where both of you must be hyper aware of the other’s next move lest you make a mistake and lose your carefully constructed composure.

“i must say it is an unlikely set of circumstances…”

you subconsciously look toward wriothesley’s own teacup, seeing that his remains as unsipped as yours. with a chilling feeling, you look back up to see that the duke’s gaze was already fixated on you, which means he saw you checking his teacup. which means he knows that you know.

“though, i’ve got to ask… what exactly entails your position in the fatui? this is purely out of my own curiosity, as most of our inmates all come from the house of the hearth.”

you swallow hard.

“well… i’m head of the infirmary, that’s all my position is, really. the sergeant title is just a half-assed justification for how high my ranking is.”

the calculating hint to wriothesley’s gaze softens in the slightest amount possible and he lightly looks off to the side, as if reminded of something, or someone he knows by your answer.

“i work directly under the second fatui harbinger, il dottore. i’m somewhat his… assistant.” the word assistant leaves your mouth with a tinge of disdainfulness as your body almost instinctively tenses at the mention of… him. the duke picks up on it.

“the doctor, huh— haven’t heard much about him myself, but what i have heard seems like more than enough for me.” you can’t help but snort at that.

“do you like it? working for him, that is.”

you’re staggered into silence and a shocked expression— the suddenness of the question completely taking you by surprise. the speechlessness you feel is painfully reminiscent of when kunikuzushi asked you if you’d like to kill dottore. despite the answer being obvious to you, there’s a subconscious fear gnawing at your side that dottore might be out here listening, disguised as someone else or as one of his segments, living a false life. but you can’t allow yourself to live in fear of him anymore— his segments are gone and he’s pathetically stuck in zapolyarny palace by himself while you’ve been out and traveling miles and miles away from snezhnaya. kunikuzushi doesn’t fear him, so why should you?

you’ve always been terrible at bluffing, so fuck it— you might as well not bluff at all.

instead of answering wriothesley immediately, you lunge for the teacup and gulp down the entire thing, much to his surprise. the duke is stunned in return as he merely watches attentively for your reaction to the serum. the silence between the two of you is prolonged as you give the serum time to take effect. the taste itself is a delightful, slight earthy flavor— making it even more enticing to drink normally for one unaware of the leaf’s properties. you don’t feel any different after a few seconds, if not ever so slightly woozier. you breathe in and out deeply, letting the first answer that comes to your mind be the one that comes out.

“i take my job very seriously, your grace— i am a medic, my ambition is to save lives. and there isn’t a soul in teyvat that i would ever want to kill more than i want to kill him.”

the answer feels foreign and unexpected even to yourself. the first time you were asked such a question, before one who was once the balladeer and dottore’s experimental god, your answer was no. it felt easier to say no— to tell him you’d rather he be the one to end the doctor’s reign of terror, because for the most part it was true. but then kunikuzushi found closure, he found new life and prosperity in places outside of godhood or tormenting others or spiting his ‘mother’ or going after dottore.

and you, you stayed the same. you’re still suffocating within the grimy, clawed grasp of the second fatui harbinger. you’ve been through so much, visited four different nations within the span of the last year, fought an abyssal creature and an artificial, nearly god-like being yet you still feel as stuck as you did while you were still stationed in snezhnaya. you’re still stuck having reasons to want to kill dottore, kunikuzushi moved past his.

the duke still can’t find an immediate response, as he merely scoffs incredulously at what he’s just watched. you see a faint glaze take over his gaze when he looks aimlessly down at his desk, as if truly involving himself in memories of the past— his eyebrows furrow briefly, as though the memories he recalls aren’t good ones. something grips at your throat, an anxious feeling, as you regret being so impulsive as to reveal something so damning about yourself. to a prison warden, no less. you feel as though you’ve sobered up and feel the need to make up for what you said and excuse yourself, but before you can even open your mouth wriothesley is already standing from his chair.

“well i respect your honesty, sergeant. i’m afraid we’ll have to leave our talk here, as i have to welcome more of the new prisoners into the fortress, maybe even your friends will be amongst them— i’ll make sure to give them the word that you’re here.”

you nod briskly and scurry to leave the office while the duke insists on seeing you out himself. your head pounds with nervousness, and perhaps slightly with the truth serum tea you just downed all at once— so much so that you almost don’t notice wriothesley’s hand sticking out once again in a polite handshake. much less do you notice the fascinated studying scan of his eyes across your face as your hand meets his.

“and again— welcome to the fortress of meropide, y/n.”

you don’t sleep well on your first night at the fortress.

perhaps it’s due to not being used to the overwhelming pressure of the water, perhaps due to the lack of warmth that your metal surroundings bring, perhaps a side effect of the tea.

or perhaps… it’s because you dream of ajax.

at first, the dream is sweet— drowning in cheesy, tooth-rooting romance tropes dug from the most delusional corners of your brain, ones that you desperately tried to suppress after you got over your phase of reading romance novels as a child. you’re reliving the tension-filled moment inside your hotel bathroom from the other morning, where some mystical force had pulled you and ajax so close together you shared the same breath, getting painstakingly closer still. only this time, instead of getting interrupted by those guards, the scene keeps going… and going… until you truly, finally meet each other in the middle.

within the misty midsts of your slumber, it almost feels real— there’s a shock of electricity when your lips touch, your heart beats faster from even outside the dream, you can nearly feel the warm sigh of satisfaction that ajax lets out from his nose and onto your face. but it still isn’t enough, the tightness in ajax’s desperate grip onto the back of your head and on the small of your back aren’t present enough. the juxtaposition of his fiery warm skin against your own cold one isn’t contrasting enough, your skin doesn’t burn as fiercely as it does when you touch him in the waking world.

and soon enough, the dream shifts… shifts into scenes of ajax inside the fortress. you’re not lucid enough to find the images strange, as you’ve never seen him inside the fortress yet— so you remain stuck, watching as he sneaks past a plethora of guards to reach a decrepit tunnel, overridden with plant-life as it connects out into the fontainian sea. your vision starts to blend incomprehensibly like watercolors on wet paper, until all the remains is a blinding, blue mess and a faint whisper in ajax’s voice:

“something’s… calling me… i… i have to go…”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

and don’t forget to boycott this shitty game!!

[supernova41st]

Father!Adam + Daughter!Reader

Chapter 1: “Golden hour”

Ch.1 Ch.2

Warnings: Major grief, major character death(s), Family issues.

A/n: this just hurt to write 😭 Also I just wanna say Emily and Y/n aren’t together her, they’re just besties. I call my friends babe and refer to them as my girlfriends so I js put it here.

Readers POV:

It’s been weeks since the fight against hell. Dad still hasn’t returned, not home, not my phone calls, nothing. I tried calling Caine too but he hasn’t answered either, but I’m pretty sure he knows about it already.

*Knock Knock!!*

A quiet gasp leaves my lips when I hear the door knocking. Dad? Holy shit he’s here!! I quickly rush towards the door, slamming it open. Tears quickly form in my eyes, both from happiness and relief, he’s finally h-

Oh, it’s Emily and Sera. Emily doesn’t look too happy, that’s odd. Normally Emily looks happy to even exist, practically shaking with joy 24/7. But I get that she wouldn’t want to be smiling at a time like this.

“Hey y/n, how you’ve been holding up?” She asks with a concerned tone. I let out a sigh, stalling a bit before giving an answer “I’m doing alright” I shrug, attempting to hide the overbearing fear I’ve been holding for the past days. “May we come in? We just want to see how you’re doing, Caine has been busy for the past few days so we figured we’d drop by.” Sera insists, in her gentle and motherly voice. I guess it’d be nice to have some people over, especially at a time like this.

Third pov:

“So, what’s Caine been doing?” Y/n asks, “I’m sure it’s better than visiting your sister after your dad goes missin-“

“Y/n please!” Sera interrupts, almost angrily whilst Emily looks away shamefully. Sera sighs attempting to calm herself, “I know you’re angry, scared even, but Caine has been feeling the same way for weeks. He’s trying his best to find your father but luck hasn’t been on his side so far..” Emily stares into the table the 3 had been sitting on, while y/n looks away shamefully for saying such things about her dear brother.

Y/n looks back up at Sera, “F.. forgive me Sera. It’s just been, hard.” She says, asking for forgiveness as one does in heaven. “That’s alright,” Emily responds with a weak smile on her face “it hasn’t been easy for us either, your dad was a fun guy so now there’s sorta a sense of.. emptiness at the court.” Sera looks at the two, relieved that the tension has come down a bit. “Do you think Caine could use my help with finding dad? I’m sure I can help in some way! Please, I need to know if he’s okay.” Y/n asks desperately. But Sera isn’t sure about this. “Y/n, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be worried about your father. I mean, you seriously don’t look as fine as you think you do..” Y/n frowns at her response. “I think you should get some sleep, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” Sera suggests while Emily nods.

It takes a minute for y/n to respond, but she eventually comes to the conclusion that worrying about her father all week isn’t the healthiest thing to do.

Emily walks over to y/n helping her stand up from her chair, giving her a warm hug, Y/n’s cold body touching Emily’s warm arms. “It’s okay, we’ll find him babe.” She says smiling softly at her, y/n giving one back.

Flashback:

Adam lays on the soft clouds that is heavens land, staring at the sunset. He had been standing there for hours, completely still. “Dad?” Y/n says from afar, along with Caine. “Hey firefly’s..” He says to the pair, making a ‘cm’ere’ motion to them. The two oblige, sitting next to him.

“..you still upset about mom?” Caine asks, Adam looks down, tearing up a bit. “I.. I don’t know.” He says quietly. Y/n looks over at him with deep concern, “We miss her too Yknow, you don’t have to hide it.” She chuckles softly. But Adam’s feeling of loss felt different, like it was his fault, like he could’ve stopped it somehow. If only he was there, to stop Lucifer from giving her the Apple, maybe things would’ve been different. He remains silent, as his two sit there, waiting for a response of any kind.

Y/n and Caine look at the sunset that their father had just been staring at, “Mom liked the sunsets.. when we were alive.” Caine says trying to break some tension. “Yeah, she said she loved the way dad’s eyes turned golden when the sun hit them.” Adam looks over at y/n, a bit surprised, since this is something that he hasn’t heard before. “She said that?” Adam’s left over tears begin to flow down his cheek a bit, y/n looking as happy as ever, that her dad is finally talking. She missed his voice so much, “Oh right, I remember, she said it reminded her of oranges. Yknow, her favorite fruit.” Caine laughs.

Adam chuckles at the memory, it was like this but with Eve. And now, he’s able to recreate it with his kids, it was beautiful, the way the suns warmth hit them like a warm blanket. Y/n lays her head on his left arm, while Caine does the same, feeling the soft cloth that was Adam’s robe. “It’s okay dad, whatever we’ll go through, we’ll go through it together.”

Third POV:

Y/n wakes up from her long nap, both her forearms lying underneath her pillow while she slowly opens her eyes. The sunset shines through her blinds, touching her skin. She sits up, putting her tangled hair behind her ears, then staring at her window, remembering the time that her family, or at least what was left of it, was together.

She remembers how she always told her dad that it’s okay to grief, especially when you know that you’re not alone. But y/n was alone, or at least she felt like it. Sure it was always an okay to do, to mourn the loss of someone you loved, but what good is it doing so by yourself?

[shinysparklesapphires]

showtime precure!

chapter 5: Primadonna Peacock

🎀: @baileypie-writes @harufallinwonderland

a/n: i know nothing about dance vocabulary forgive me pls also dance coach debut woo reel we know what you are it's not subtle

"Violet! You need to point your toes!"

The dance studio was empty, except for the coach and Violet, holding on to the bar with one leg up.

She was straining to keep her leg up, she had never possesed a sense of balance, which is exactly why she was being tutored.

The dance coach sighed, "Alright, let's take a break."

"Vi, I know you have the potential to be a great dancer, and you are you just need to push yourself."

"I know Coach.."

the evening bell rung.

"Alright, you should get going, I'm going home."

"I need to push myself harder...I just want my coach to be proud of me..."

"Vi, you shouldn't get so hung up on what the dance coach says, you're a great dancer, she's just blind.."

"Miya! I thought you were at the beautification commitee meeting?"

"They canceled it last second, due to the president catching a cold."

"I hope she gets better.."

"Yeah, in the meantime, I brought these back from cooking club," Miya held up a small tupperware box of shortbread cookies.

"You can have the rest if you want, I'm going to bed."

"Thanks, I'll eat them later..."

It was raining outside. Lacey was standing out in the rain, looking pissed off as usual.

"Man why do I have to find a wish coin?? We already had a ton of them, so why do we need to get more of them?! I'm too pretty to be doing all this work it's not fair!"

"Ah!"

she quickly hid behind a nearby tree, so she wouldn't be discovered.

Violet was standing under a canopy, practicing her ballet routine, but she had fallen while doing a leap.

"Man, this chick really sucks at dancing." Lacey thought to herself.

"Vi!" Lucia ran up to Violet, hugging her.

"Lucia! Why are you out so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing! Professor needed something, so I'm bringing it to his office!"

"oh."

"Why are you out here?"

"N-no reason..I just- like the rain."

"Uh Ok?" Lucia ran off back to the audotorium.

Violet sighed.

"I don't want Lucia to think I'm a loser because I can't dance.."

"You are a loser!"

"Huh?"

Lacey finally revealed herself to Violet.

"I said, you ARE a loser! I've seen better dancing from toddlers!"

"W-what?"

"You should really reconsider being a dancer yknow? Who knows maybe the circus has room for one more clown!" Lacey started laughing, as she walked off into the night.

"Vi, Violet!"

"Ah!" the next day, Violet was back in the dance studio.

"You've been spacing out for the past 10 minutes, are you alright??"

the dance coach looked at her with a worried expression.

"Y-yeah I'm fine Coach, don't worry,"

she sighed. "alright, practice your leaps again. until you get it perfect every time you mess up, we'll start over."

Hesitantly, she stepped, and jumped.

"Again! point your toes!"

she leaped again.

"Again! keep your knees straight!"

again.

"Your arms are in the wrong position, again!"

again.

Violet clenched her fists. "I'm done with this!" she stormed out crying, leaving the coach bewildered.

Once she ran into a secluded corner, she ripped off her ballet shoes and threw them onto the ground, knees clenched to her chest.

"Violet."

she looked up. there was the coach.

"I'm sorry.."

"No, it's not that, why did you throw your shoes away?"

"Because I can't dance."

"Violet, you can dance, I don't know who told you that but it's not true."

she picked up the ballet shoes and handed them over to Violet.

"Violet, think of doing your leaps as a peacock spreading it's wings."

"Like..a Peacock?"

"Yeah, I want all of my dancers to be like a peacock spreading its feathers, on its own, it's pretty, but when it opens up, you get to see it at its most beautiful form.."

Violet smiled. "Thanks Coach,"

"No pro-"

The Coach's eyes went dark, and she fell over.

"Coach?!" Violet looked panicked.

A small purple coin floated out of the coach's back.

"Well, well, well. This wish coin is especially sparkly!"

somewhere nearby, Reel jumped out of Amber's arms.

"Reel? what's wrong?"

Lyna looked worried.

"I sense an evil presence.."

"HELP!" a voice called from nearby.

"That's Violet's voice!" Lucia took off sprinting away from the others.

"Lucia wait up!" Lyna and Amber dashed after her, Reel following closely behind.

Lacey took a closer look at Violet, "O. M. G!!! You're the shitty dancer girl I met yesterday!"

"What have you done to the coach?!" Violet looked panicked.

"Oh don't worry, she'll be fine. Or not! Haha!"

"Facade! Wreak your havoc!"

suddenly, Violet's ballet shoes had turned into a monster!

"SAWW!"

"Violet!"

"Lucia?! What are you doing here?!"

"Lyna! Amber!"

"Right!"

"PreCure, Rollback!"

"H-huh?!"

"Showtime!"

"On it!"

Cure Showtime tried to swing at the monster, but it leaped over her!

"What the- hey no fair!"

"Saw!" It kicked her into a nearby wall.

"Ouch!"

"Showtime! Let me handle this!" Set jumped over the Facade, "Precure! Set....Lasso!" the monster was tied up!

"Yes!" Set's triumph was quickly soured however when- "Saw!" the monster broke through her lasso, also sending her flying.

Wright had managed to dodge most of the attacks but-

"Wright...Blitz!"

"Saw!" the Facade managed to dodge all of her bullets!

"Augh!!!"

"Now Facade! finish her off!"

"Saw!" the Facade swung but-

"No!" A bright light shielded Wright from the incoming attack, leading to the fourth and final ribbon on Reel's neck to float off to Violet, who grabbed it without a second thought.

"Coach....Lucia...hurting the people I care about, that's a crime that can't ever be forgiven!"

"Precure, Rollback! Lights! Camera! Action!"

"The Diva of the show, Cure Action!"

"Saw?" The Facade was met with a swift punch to the face.

"Cure Action.." Lucia's eyes lit up, "Kick that monster's ass!"

"What are you doing you idiot! Get her!"

"Saw!" the Facade did a pirouette, sending gusts of wind towards Action, who swiftly dodged it.

"Spread your wings, like a peacock..." the cape on the end of Action's outfit burst up, and she spun around.

"Precure! Action Grande.....Jete!"

"Sawwww!" the monster was purified, and the wish coin was returned to its owner.

"Grahhhh! Cure Action....that was just a practice round! I'll be back next time and you better believe i'll pummel you into the ground!" she disappeared.

"Cure Showtime, Cure Set, Cure Wright, and now Cure Action! The Cure Quartet is complete!" Reel was sitting on the wall seperating the Orchestra pit from the stage, swinging his feet.

"So...the drama teacher's a cat that can turn into a man?"

Violet questioned skeptically.

"Common misconception actually, I'm a guy that can turn into a cat," Reel kept swinging his feet nonchalantly.

"This day has been weird as hell..."

Amber patted her on the back, "Welp, I have a feeling it's only gonna get weirder from here right Reel?"

"Reel?"

"Girls..I've fallen into the Orchestra pit again.."

they giggled, "Reel!"

[loaksky]

hello! would you consider writing modern avatar stuff? if ur cool w that can i request modern human neteyam relationship headcanons?

wait hold the phone yes i would actually ! wanted to hold off on posting this to include headcanons about what modern!neteyam would be like in a relationship, but i’m so eager to come back ! instead here’s some background about him & reader leading up to the relationship (part 2 pending if you guys want it) ! headcanons under the cut & for all intents + purposes, i picture college-neteyam ! additionally, in my brain, it’s canon that teyam as a human would be poc, hence the reference pictures i included below ! <3

so i definitely see neteyam having a very soft aesthetic, he’s such a sweetheart tbh

fs think that the two of you would have a meetcute in university & then end up being college sweethearts

his major is something specific like environmental engineering or child psychology ? he’s definitely really smart and excels in all of his classes !

which brings me to how the two of you would meet ? perhaps he’s taking an elective course in pottery and your major is in art with a concentration in three dimensional composition

the class is considered a lab, so the professor emails out the syllabus and students come and go as they please during class hours to work on their compositions.

halfway thru the sem, you and teyam stumble upon each other in the storage room between two classrooms, fetching different pieces that need to be glazed + fired.

“sorry, you can—”

“nah, you first—”

you laugh and neteyam’s smiling because WOW you’re really cute + had he known that someone as lovely as you was in the same section as him, he’d probably hang around the classroom more.

from that moment on, neteyam’s always lingering during the class’ meeting time, even if he’s already finished with his projects for the week because he wants to get to know you SO bad, but he’s way too shy.

(probably still canon that he’s phenomenal at literally everything, but i think it’d be so cute if he had 0 legitimate rizz bc he’s so used to kinda just bein’ him and pulling bc he’s a jack of all trades type of guy)

“what are you making?” you ask him one day and he snatches his airpod out of his ear so quickly even though he’s not listening to anything.

“ashtray” he answers quietly, a lil self-conscious because he’s come to find out that you’re absolutely amazing at sculpting and while you do this for your future, he does it is as a pastime / elective to graduate. “but like i don’t smoke or anything yknow, i just thought that i’d be a good thing to–”

you’re staring at him with the corner of your mouth quirked and he shuts up quickly, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he slumps on his stool.

“you should score using a crosshatch,” you tell him simply. “makes the pieces stick together better.”

he looks down at where he’d been scratching the damp clay laterally and your hands hover over his, head tilting to the side.

“can i?”

oh yeah, yeah! sure,” he splutters, leaning back a little to watch you work your magic.

can’t help but watch the way your fingers work over the clay, knuckles smudged with glaze and dust coating the silver of your rings.

he watches your hands, but soon he’s watching your face because you’re concentrated so hard on making sure you’re using your best technique for the little ashtray.

lo and behold, the pieces stick together so perfectly and smoothly, ready to be fired in the kiln, and neteyam’s grateful.

“thanks,” he sighs almost dreamily.

“yeah, of course. glad to help,” you tell him.

when you return to your own project, you slam back the rest of your melting drink and neteyam’s eyes are squinting the get a read on what it is you order.

you’re pleasantly surprised when you turn up to pottery the next session to work on a new project, and neteyam’s there with two coffees, one next to his wheel, another near yours.

“what’s this?” you hum, tying your apron with a messy bow.

“a thank you,” he says shyly. “for helping me last time.”

your eyes widen when you see your favorite; a chai with almondmilk, vanilla, and a shot of espresso.

“how’d you…”

“it’s what you were drinking…” he responds. “last week. i think.

“oh…” you trail off, cheeks hot because he noticed ???

“you don’t have to—”

“NO!” you yelp, a tad loud. some of the other students working on a few last minute projects peer at the two of you and teyam’s grinning like an idiot when he sees the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and reach for the drink. “this is good! it’s great. thank you so much. i actually missed my run this morning.”

“yeah, of course,” he sighs, rolling his lips together as the two of you kinda get off to a clunky start.

the silence between the two of you is a lil awkward, but you decide to break the ice since teyam’s technically played his hand and the ball’s in your court.

“are you an art major ?” you ask.

“uh, nah,” he'd say, rubbing his sweaty palms on the thighs of his baggy jeans because HE SHOWED UP TO CLASS 15 MINUTES EARLY and the agony of not knowing if you’d show up made him so nervous. “environmental engineering.”

your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, lips forming an ‘o’ bc wow that must mean he’s super smart.

“wow, that’s insane,” you say quietly. “what made you take pottery ?”

“only elective that didn’t make me wanna claw my eyes out,” he laughs nervously. “what about you ? what’s your major ?”

you seem to mull over your thoughts for a moment, obviously a little hesitant to answer.

“3d art...nothing special...” you trail off.

neteyam begins working with the slab of clay waiting for him in the center of the wheel, cheeks going hot because the words leave him before he can stop them.

“no, no. i think that’s really cool. art is a really challenging passion to have & i admire people willing to dive in full stop.”

the comment makes you smile, fingers pliant over the wet clay.

neteyam wants to DIE because he can’t read whether or not your smile is genuine or if you’re grimacing because he’s the biggest idiot ever.

he supposes it’s the former when you two are parting ways, signing the attendance log and you decide to bite the bullet and write your instagram handle on the bottom corner of the page and tear it off to hand to him.

he’s barely able to get a ‘thank you’ out before you’re racing out the door with your gifted coffee in hand.

you’re so giddy when you run out of the building and your phone pings in the front pocket of your satchel and you see that teyam.sully has followed you.

after that day, you two become really friendly !

neteyam frequently dms you about class, but eventually, he starts sending you vids and memes, saying that they made him think of you.

it becomes so obvious to both of your friend groups that you’re crushing on each other, but both of you are too painfully shy to say anything despite every green flag.

soon, looking forward to seeing each other during class turns into neteyam subtly asking you to hang out.

you make a comment about one of his hoodies and he mentions that he thrifted it.

“wait really??” you’re pausing your work to look at him. “i love thrifting!”

he smiles wide, word vomiting before he can stop himself.

“yeah? i know a couple of good places if you’re down.”

you say yes, DUH !

looking back at it, maybe that’s your first date because he picks you up from your dorm & bc you guys live in a fairly walkable city, you commute to the thrift and you’re SO giddy because the backs of your hands keep brushing every time some impatient pedestrian pushes by you guys on the narrow sidewalks.

you guys end up spending HOURS and teyam’s internally screaming because you find a shirt that has a peeling heart with the phrase ‘if lost return to wife’ and he happens upon the match to it a couple aisles down that says ‘i'm the wife’.

when you’re not looking, teyam buys the shirts and stuffs them in his canvas bag.

DUDE IS WHIPPED.

he wants you SO bad.

after the thrift, you guys get pizza, and after that, ice cream, and JESUS he doesn’t want the day to end because being with you is so easy.

over the course of the rest of the semester, the two of you make it a routine to hang out at least once a week and you’re always looking forward to it.

dates excursions include; trips to the museum to see recent exhibits, weekly pizza parlor dinners, study sessions at the 24 hr cafe a block from the school (in which he always walks you home after), park days where he reads books on environmental sustainability and you secretly draw portraits of him.

in these times, he learns that you want to become an art teacher, your favorite cereal is froot loops with the marshmallows, your all time show is amazing world of gumball.

almost cries laughing when he finds out that you have a secret pet turtle you hide in your dorm named franklin.

acknowledges that he’s falling, but falls even harder when the florist who owns the flower shop you two always pass hands you the prettiest little bundle of flowers and you spend the entire trek to the park, handing out individual stems to couples, children, and the elderly, telling them to have a beautiful day.

it all comes to a head near the end of the semester when he realizes that he can’t keep dancing around his feelings for you and the feelings he’s almost certain you have for him.

tells you to clear your schedule for the upcoming friday night and dresses a little nicer than usual when he picks you up.

brings you two to the planetarium in the city and, instead of watching the exhibit, he spends the entire time watching how you light up.

he knows in his gut that you could be it for him.

he’s loved getting to know you and spending so much time with you.

he’s so immersed in this feeling throughout the entire night.

probably wipes his sweaty palms over the thighs of his pants before shakily taking your hand as the diagram of the constellations shift.

can’t help but smile when your fingers squeeze his and you seem to shift closer to him as the narrator starts the presentation.

and he’s especially quiet after the exhibit, fingers still twined with yours as the two of you walk down the bustling sidewalks of the city center.

two of you probably stop by a dessert cafe and sit outside on a bench in the spring air, enjoying the buskers as you share a little cake.

you’re talking about home and how you’re excited to see your family again and he can’t help but imagine bringing you home to meet all his siblings and his parents because he knows that they’d absolutely love you and—

you’ve paused your speaking, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth and he’s SHORT CIRCUITING.

“shit, that was weird i’m so—”

his palm cups your jaw, thumb on your cheek, pad of his pinky and ring finger soft against your neck.

“can i?” he whispers.

TRIANGLE METHOD !!

he glances at one eye, gaze dropping to your lips before glancing at the other.

you already know what he’s referring to, could feel the romantic tension between the two of you since the beginning, but only become sure of it in the recent weeks.

”can you what?” you swallow.

he breathes a short laugh because the knowing smile that quirks your lips is a dead give away.

“can i kiss you?” he asks softly, absently setting your abandoned dessert somewhere behind him on the bench.

“yeah,” you’d nod, leaning into him. “please.”

before the two of you go your separate ways for summer holiday, he shows you the shirts he bought at the thrift store the first time around, but insists on keeping the shirt that says ‘i'm the wife’.

neng © 2023

[gaylordscooter]

logofthehebmultivese: ENTRY HELP

im writing this down tottally calmly and

yknow what im not even going to do a bit

so fresh is currently in my general vicinity and normally ink and i would get the fuck out of there immediately. GUESS WHERE INK IS??

OR SHOULD I WRITE FRESH INK? GOD THIS IS SO GREAT AND AWESOME IM GLAD IT'S HAPPIENING

so im hiding until dream senses my anguish and decides to head over.

i didnt even know he COULD infect ink on the account of NO SOUL.

then again, no one knows how he does it.

i just realized i haven't written an entry on fresh yet. the lack of info on him is exactly why.

basic gist: parasite-virus kind of deal. there's a "main" host which more often than not is what people are referring to when they say "fresh". little known fact unless you've encountered him. he's a hive-mind. and i wouldve appreciated a warning from ink instead of finding that out MYSELF

when he infects someone, they become a "lesser" host which the main host draws magic from.

now i said—

i hear him

.

[there's a bunch of illegible scribbles]

ok. he walked away my hiding spot's good. seems like all those times i played hide n seek with my brother paid off...

so as i was writing, i call him a parasite-virus now im no biologist (unlike most sanses i majored in psychology, and i totally got my degree, yeah) so i dont know how accurate of a term that is but it sounds right to me because he's a parasite (that resides in a main host) that spreads a virus (that infects people and allows him to control them and draw power from).

and no one knows how he infects people. i dont know if it's airborne, through touch, magic-related no one knows. the logical conclusion tends to be through close proximity but even then who knows what he does to spread the virus.

it might have something to do with those shades that all of them wear

did i mention this very dangerous thing larps as a dude from the 90's. it would be funny if it weren't for everything else. did i mention he's emitting music from the 90's right now and that's how ive been able to tell when he's near? (i can never listen to wannabe by the spice girls the same ever again)

hang on

ink seems to be wasting all his paint. i know what he's trying to do. he still has some control

his paint is more viscous than usual, it's clumping together in gross globs. i think something's in it

it's distracting fresh. i think he's trying to calm him down. failing, of course, ink doesn't listen to anyone (except well, the creators)

the virus targets the soul. ink doesn't have a soul so the next best thing is his paint

now people think when he runs out of paint he becomes a lifeless husk and

thats not. that's exactly what happens

but give him paint again he'll be back to normal, that's my job, sometimes. it's not formally my job, ink wouldn't want to depend on someone to that degree but the few times it's happened—im getting off track

there's paint everywhere and im trying my hardest to not touch any of it. there's petals in it, gross is that what fresh uses? petals or flowers?

hang on ink just slapped fresh with his scarf i need to sketch this out

im not that good at drawing. i'll ask ink to do a true artist's interpretation of this.

oh my god he knocked his glasses off. oh my god that's a huge ass flower in his sockets. that

ok it's time to go

[faillen]

just. peaceful property rambles. completely unconstructive, trying to make my brain quiet so I can sleep.

I can’t stop thinking about Peach turning around and expecting Home at his elbow, or inhaling to call his name, only to stop once he remembers.

I’m assuming. What? A week went by between last ep and this ep?

Also just thinking about Pangpang sooo much like. She saw how Home got her brother out of his shell and she’s very much encouraging Peach to reach out because she’s trying to be constructive and positive about the whole situation. But at the same time I really just want to write the post-canon fic where she starts pulling away from Home a bit and eventually she blurts out that she’s mad at him. Cause it’s a simmering thing, and she’s always set her anger aside to make space for being “the positive supportive one!” since Peach takes on so much responsibility and burden as the older brother. But at the end of the day, Home did hit her only brother with a fucking car, and when she thinks about how scared she was that night and how much their life spiraled—even though it was all okay in the end—she does still get incredibly upset.

Also Kan!!! Kan got barely any screen time this episode, and I really need the focus to swing back to her. I don’t know if it will next episode, given the preview, but I need to learn more about what’s going on there. Clearly the fact that she asked to leave right after Home is supposed to make us a bit sus of her but Home’s aunt and uncle and that lawyer are truly pinging so much higher for me lmao.

Also I swear to god, I will bet on it—Uncle Somkid is partly responsible for Home’s parents dying (and it feels like that might be tied up w Kan’s story?). If I’m wrong, fine, but if I’m right, I will eat my shoe.

There’s something about how positively Home views his grandfather versus the neglect and pain caused by his family’s holdings. And on one hand. Rich people bullshit. They love making excuses for negligence! On the other hand, if the show doesn’t want to make the grandfather a villain (and it seems like it doesn’t want to) then someone else has to be (the lawyer? Somkid doesn’t seem that master-mind-y. Though who knows. One of the theories for this week is that he put a hit on his fucking nephew lmao)

I will say. There is something very “Pat gets shot and Wai redeems himself by helping him” about Home getting into a car accident before he apologizes to Peach and Pangpang in person. While I am completely devastated by the trials and tribulations of this very hot, classist man who is actually quite Complicated™—the impact of the apology we get is going to be severely undercut by Peach’s guilt over why Home was driving in the first place. Like the Bad Buddy situation it’s similar vibes of “are you really going to be mad at your friend for outing you when he just helped your boyfriend after your boyfriend got SHOT?”

(The answer to both is: yes, yes you should. these are separate issues. the human emotions of guilt/gratefulness will not let you do that though.)

god. also. just. gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Hey. Hey P’Dome, did you watch The CW’s long-running monster of the week, Supernatural (2005)? Cause I think it’s insane that you had the ForceBook ghosts be gay in an episode where you ALSO establish that suicidal ghosts loop through their final moments. You know. Kind of like a Death Echo. An entity/phenomenon which was first introduced in Supernatural season 3, episode 13, “Ghostfacers”. And they got the death echo who happened to be gay to move on by having his crush confess to him. and they uttered the aforementioned famous line. Yknow. Like.

P’DOME DID YOU WATCH SUPERNATURAL, YOU GOTTA TELL ME RIGHT NOW

if I had a nickel for every time a queercoded horror show did this shebang, I’d have two nickels, etc. etc.

I can’t even think about the whole dancing scene and Home and Peach looking at each other while doing the gestures for love. If I do, I will simply explode. I also cannot think about how hurt Home looked when Peach mentioned him running away to the States (me, always: home looks so pathetic ;-; also me: stop. stop that. he basically killed peach, peach is allowed to be mean.)

Okay I’m done.

[nerves-nebula]

Hey. Yknow fusions?

This idea can be taken in multiple ways, but there's 2 most popular ways.

Characters go in sync and fuse, becoming a mesh of both, and usually break apart upon major internal disagreements. Steven Universe style.

Or characters are forced together in a body that is basically hc one person and half another.

But either way I'm curious as to what would occur in your iteration for either situation.

i have a character who's a forced fusion and he has. so many emotional issues about it. like he loves the people he's made of but they kind of hate each other, my mans is Mentally Ill <3

ALSO I think I've said this about a million times but YOU SHOULD JUST KNOW THAT I'm so fucking obsessed with body sharing and fusions (consensual or forced) and the idea of HAVING to share a life with someone. It's one of my favorite concepts to explore.

SO WITH THAT SAID!!! apologies it took so long to answer this, I just wanted to give it the time it deserved <<33

Donnie + Leo: most confused motherfucker ever. hates himself, loves himself, furiously frustrated with their state of being. he wants to be taken care of and NEEDS to be adored. everything she makes is brilliant one moment and terrible the next. he is NOT having a good time and she will make it EVERYONE'S problem. (he/they/she)

Donnie + Raph: What if Raph was more irritable and suicidal? what if debilitating guilt kept him going even FURTHER past his boundaries?? this motherfucker can hold so much guilt. hobbies include sleeping and neurotically upgrading the home security system. has a sort of surveillance state situation going on in the lair and will deny it whenever asked. (faggot gender)

Donnie + Mikey: A sweet, excitable, sensitive, artistic boy :) strong morals and a penchant for making friends. very passionate about mixing art and science (they're better together!!) likely the most functional of all the fusions. still hella mentally ill, but in a sort of "I'm going to go quietly insane in my room and secretly fear everyone thinks im awful" kind of way. (he/they)

Mikey + Leo: Most confident motherfucker ever. always righteously angry about something. no impulse control, too violent for her own good. gets herself hurt a lot. Will attack at the slightest sign of provocation. (any pronouns)

Mikey + Raph: overprotective bundle of energy. somehow always hyper and tired at the same time. really into home decor & repair (mixes artistic desire to create and express oneself, with the pragmatism of fixing up the home). probably loves food more than anyone in the world. (any pronouns)

Raph + Leo: Biggest Big Brother Ever. 100% annoying, 100% loving. Will lie to her little brothers for fun (that bug is poisonous. yeah, and if you touch it you'll die in three days. Oh, you already touched it?? :( better write your will!) he carries the world on his shoulders and cracks jokes about it. (he/she)

anyway here's doodles of my favorite fusion ideas.

[athenamikaelson]

I come here to read YOUR story, if I want to dictate how the events in this story go I’d just make up a story in my head and hyperfocus on it for the next week while listening to a banging playlist

Or idk I’d just write a story myself?

Please don’t listen to anyone who tries to tell you how to write your own story or I mean do if you like their suggestions but yknow what I mean sorry I’m wording this really badly but what I’m trying to say is don’t listen to anyone who’s trying to force you to do something that you don’t want to do like ik u know this but reading those texts has got me to have to say it

Your story is a banger, make any decision about it that you want regardless of what other people say and also ignore everyone who’s telling you to make chapters faster.

Every other creator I know takes weeks (not hating like rightfully so I be taking 6 hours to write one paragraph) and the fact you do it way quicker isn’t an expected standard or a right, it’s a privilege, it’s like a blessing you bestow upon us that should never be taken for granted and everyone who is doing that, is factually insane and they need to go out into the real world and try writing something or follow literally anyone else who will also be writing fics in the same time, probably longer.

I know they’re probably trolls because it’s so obviously a wild thing to ask but like either way, it’s not funny??

Anyway I’m so sorry for going on a long tangent but TL;DR

I love your series and will continue to love it whichever way you want to take it, I love how quick you post content but if you want to take longer that’s totally okay I’m just grateful I can even read it and don’t listen to any of those trolls they have no life

Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to write this ❤️. I totally understand what you mean you worded it perfectly!! I l love you guys and would never want to disappoint you all so hearing this makes me so happy

[streamdotpng]

Well if you're okay with it, I'd be very happy to give you a few prompts. Also my brain just responded with a decent non smut prompt. Wednesday and Enid's first kiss. (Does that count as smut actually? I don't know)

Kissing is pretty wholesome simp anon

But! Idk how to write kiss scenes so have this instead, it's world vomit tbh

Lemme set the scene. Set somewhere after the recent video I made

-

Enid lets out a breath, her shoulders dropping as her head presses against Wednesday.

She's sticky, dirty and shes pretty sure that the thing sticking on her teeth is something she doesn't want to think off right now but!

Wednesday is here and Enid drinks it in like a starving man given food, greedily. Her once neat braids is messy and Enid's so tempted to let it loose, to tug at the hair and bring her close-

A sharp inhale.

Fuck, what is she thinking? She should be mroe focused on other things. Like..

Wednesday being safe.

Yes.

That's what matters.

"I meant it yknow?" Enid whispers and her hands press against her knees as she kneels in front of the girl who easily holds the leash that is her control in her hands. The thought makes her heart race. To think, that she would shift once again because of her roommate.

Sounds like the last time wasn't a fluke huh?

It feels like a pattern.

(it feels like fate.)

Wednesday watches with big eyes and Enid can't help the pride that surges in her chest. Yes, a part of her seems to purr, absolutely delighted. We did this, we eliminated the threat.

Only us, no one else.

The words come out easily, with such familiarity that Enid had to blink for a moment because what did she just say?

"I love you." it's said like one does with a good morning, with ease and adoration. It's said like a worker coming home, opening the front door to see their one waiting inside.

It said of "Wednesday, I look at you and there is no flutter of butterflies or flushed cheeks. I see you and I think of my bed, I think of the comfort of my blanket and what it would be like for us to lay in the couch in the laziest of days.

I stare at your eyes and wonder if they would look the same or better from my spot next to you, years from now. I look at our room, our home and wish and long for it to be like this decades post Nevermore.

I love you and with this devotion, I will gladly stain my hands with the darkness that you call your heart.

I dont know what we are but it doesn't matter.

For you, I will kneel like a servant to royalty. For you, I will be the sword on your hip or the teeth in your maw.

For you, I will be anything as long as you are safe."

Wednesday sighs and her eyes close.

They do not kiss and something stings in Enid's sight as she breaths.

But she doesn't dare look away from Wednesday's face as something brushes through her fingers, intertwining with a grip so tight it feels like a promise.

There's stars on her skin and Enid knows that she could spend forever counting them.

This is not a kiss but its enough.

Anything of Wednesday is enough for her.

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

rewatching atla and yknow it really is such a shame that the same writers and creators betrayed the ethos and pathos of their own show with legend of korra

i really wish we had gotten to see more older aang in korra, even as just flashbacks would've been fine. but it just would've been nice to see the older gaang interacting as friends, during a peaceful time, when all of them have only known war previously.

and yeah, i know they published comics but it would've been fun to see it animated. them trying to navigate their feelings when they finally feel safe enough to do so. aang especially coming to terms with the fact that his people were genocided and that he's one of the last air nomads (but possibly not the last, last airbender, but certainly the last of his specific culture. more on that in a moment)

and if they had done it thru flashbacks, they could've paralleled those times of peace (but maybe interpersonal drama) with whatever they wanted to do with korra that required the avatar. (and i say it like that purposefully bc i still don't know if i understand what they were trying to achieve with the over-arching narrative of korra)

it feels like they were so afraid of not being able to raise the stakes, they completely forgot what atla was even about.

the thing i think that gets me the most is the fact that instead of finding a better way to integrate air benders back into the world, like say, since they were, oh idk, nomadic, they just decided to randomly make people air benders all of a sudden through oriental mysticism.

instead of smth like, it turns out that a lot of little sects of air benders exist in the wider world of atla bc the air benders were, famously, nomadic. they're literally called air nomads. the writers remember what nomad means right?

like the sandbenders in atla. yes, they demonstrably bend sand. BUT, as my friend @justletmeremember has pointed out, they use tornados of sand to power their ships in the desert. that requires some amount of air bending!

not only that, but the air benders were the way they were bc of their culture, not the other way around. like sure, air bending probably informed some of their choices and culture. but their culture is what made them who the wider world of atla know them as. so to make random air benders just Exist in lok completely disregards and betrays that culture.

they didn't need to remake the air nomads' exact culture. but their culture, alongside evironment, should have informed the writers who they wanted the next air benders to be. i mean, i think there's a crucial reason the air nomads were nomads, monks and pacifists, and the writers lost that reason in lok.

and that's one of the main cruxes of my problem with lok. the writers/creators made aang the last air bender, literally had his people genocided, and didn't understand or even examine what that meant when writing lok.

[solarianradiance]

Spoiler free (mostly)

Is it good?

Yes.

Is it for everyone?

Nope.

Should you get it?

Yes, if you are into exploring emotional angst, depression, art, socializing and the struggles that comes with them.

If you are hoping to explore things and character on your own terms at your own pace, you will be disappointed. It's very linear with only forks in the path.

If there are characters you want an in-depth exploration outside of Olivia, at least at significant length, be ready for a bit of a let down.

You are Inco and as the name of the story implies, it's about Olivia, an Alligator Artist that is crippled. Mostly by her emotional trauma regarding something within her recent past that leaves her feeling like shes being used and condescended to, only receiving praise out of pity rather than her work being judged objectively, creating an air of "Nothing I do matters and I feel like a burden on others" around her.

I shall say no more on that front. Her story left me quite empathetic to her.

Also, just to be clear, shes not dying of anything like it might have been implied at points. She just has no use of her legs from the knees down and feels like its making others treat her differently.

As stated before, story is very linear with some forks in the road. These forks will net you a different ending as well as different paths with significant variations of what transpires. So theres actual replay value.

The characters feel like they are all 3-dimensional, even if it doesn't quite seem like it one the surface at first. Take Damien for example, while what you see is what you get, theres a bit more going on under the hood with him.

Lions share of the tale takes place in School, Olivia's Home and out doing activities such as the arcade with friends, so the intriguing dynamic between characters is tested, but it's mostly for Olivia's sake. Which is reasonable, but it feels like she gets a bit too much attention from the writing.

But otherwise, when you get that true ending, by golly does it feel earned with that sense of triumph!

My next point is that 5 things stand out to me as drawbacks.

1: There is simply too much of the spotlight on Olivia.

Olivia is the titular character and the center of the tale, but she hogs the spotlight, almost smothering the life out of the story. I like her as a character, but she is overexposed for it, dominating the narrative. It's usually all about her, directly or indirectly.

This dampens her character, making it feel like shes overly imposing on the reader and hardly lets other characters have their own real moments on their own.

2: The player lacks agency in choosing whom to interact with and how.

As previously stated, the story is very linear. Not just with forks in the road, but with choices that don't seem to matter that much, at least obviously. The only 4 option choice that I recall was what food to order and it always seemed to elicit the same response.

Furthermore, you cannot choose who you want to talk to or how to interact with them. This would have taken a drastically different approach to storytelling, but this is a Visual Novel, one that pays $15US. There really should be considerably more options on how the reader wishes to engage with the story and not be such a passive participant outside of the few forks.

If the story wants Inco to talk to Olivia in a specific manner, then by God he will. I'm not exactly asking for a hundred choices here, just a few more at more frequent times. The ability to choose who to talk to and get to know them more on my terms would have helped things feel more compelling.

3: Too many characters feel like they are side-lined and forgotten about.

Yknow the Gym Teacher in the introductory portion of the story, who totally isn't the Soldier from TF2 as a Bat (I think?)? Yeah he sorta ceases to matter afterwords.

This happens quite a bit with various characters.

4: The time-frame of the story is simply too short for it's own good.

The majority of the story takes place between September and December. While a lot can happen within a single day (which happens a few times), there does not feel like there is a need for this.

They could have easily stretched this story over the course of an entire school year, but chose not to for whatever reason. When you are in December for the dance, you are in the final stretch of the tale.

It creates a sense of "Cut-off" that ought to have no occurred. Perhaps this is personal taste, but, it gives the sense of Inco & Olivia's relationship feeling slightly rushed. 4 months to fall in love is a bit fast realistically, regardless of their cravings for love and companionship.

5: Many scenes go on for too long.

Much of the writing feels like it retreads what has already been trotted upon or just lingers on a matter for simply too long when it should have move on by now. Creating a sense of chaff in the writing.

The 5 pillar characters are Inco, Olivia, Mr. Iadakan, Ben & Mia.

These 5 are at the center of what drives the narrative forward and have far reaching affects on the plot.

Inco & Olivia have ample exploration and development.

Iadakan feels like he could have had 2 or 3 more scenes.

Ben & Mia needed 4 or 7 scenes apiece.

Especially Mia.

========= Mild spoilers. =========

Holy crap, of all the characters in this story that needed the spotlight more, it was her. It was one of the things I wanted and sadly, we do not get that.

If you paid attention to the drawbacks I mentioned, she is the poster child of all those issues. I really wanted to get a sense of her way of thinking and the reasons for her behavior. Just like with Olivia.

I really wanted Inco to confront her, 1-on-1 on mutual terms and either talk it out or brawl it out. It feels like she needed somebody to talk to or fight with. But nope, you do not get any of that. Mia's purpose is about one note and that's it, to be the antagonist.

This whole situation of the story's issues leaves me feeling like there is a large chunk of missing story.

As in, it feels like I only got 70% of this thing. Like they forgot to add the portions for her and Ben.

Now, to be even handed, it's not entirely unreasonable to not get her side of the story and leave it unexplored. Not every villain needs their reasons revealed or a sympathetic light shined upon them. Sometimes bad people are just bad.

But in the context of the story that things are not quite what they seem and there is a reason for people acting the ways that they do... this is a big fat fuck up.

I was expecting a single 1v1 scene between her and Inco at some point, but it never ever comes, at least in the endings I got, including the 4th ending. Which is a big shame, because I truly wanted to get to know her and Ben better.

Speaking of which.

If you want the true ending keep the following in mind.

Respect Olivia's agency.

Encourage Olivia

Challenge Olivia

Let her make her choices for better or worse.

Do NOT collaborate with Ben.

======================= Spoilers end. =======================

Anyways, I do recommend I wani hug that gator, maybe get it on sale if you are not sure.

It's not for everyone as you can tell by what i have written here. I liked the story a lot, but it does have issues, even for those who are interested in the topics and what transpires.

But there is a compelling nuance going on here, so if you are into longer reads and like the idea of an artist trying to accept herself in spite of what others might think of her, and taking up the offers of help in spite of what she thinks of herself, give it a shot.