#and yet he has the control and clarity to not direct it at those that are hurting themselves

[colonelpancakes]

Watching the dragon prince season six episode four: The Starscraper. Under the cut as usual.

I love Callum but how is he not frozen solid. Those fingerless gloves may be stylish but they are NOT insulating. Give my boy a coat.

Ooh that’s a beautiful building. It does look a tad like a Minecraft beacon but, it's a very pretty Minecraft beacon

Callum, why would you just stick your hand in? For all you know it’s like a forcefield or something and it zaps you!

Okay, my question is what is the benefit of an elevator partially activating once you’ve read half the runes? That seems like a real safety hazard, like that seems like a magic bug that needs to be fixed.

Woah, wait a minute! Interesting, some of the Celestial Elves seem to have wings that aren’t bird wings. That one in the back looks like they have bug wings. Can that happen with skywing elves? I guess bugs are also flying creatures that inhabit the sky so that would make sense. Hmm… I wonder if you can get Mage Wing bug wings…

Aww. The leaflynx kitten is adorable but also the music is giving major flashbacks to the baby deer at the end of season two. Claudia. Claudia don’t you dare.

Also, glowing butterfly motif!

CLAUDIA NO.

Okay good. It seemed like her hand was almost acting out of her control, I wonder if this much dark magic is starting to like, impact her reflexes? Like she instinctively reaches for things even if she doesn’t consciously want to? Or maybe she’s just snapping herself out of it who knows.

“Are you feeling alright?” “No, I’m not. I’m so messed up, Terry. I’ve been stuck, just staring, for over an hour now.” Oughhh Claudia, honey. Its good that she’s at least able to admit she’s not okay, that’s a good start.

Oh, hey is Claudia starting to lean away from dark magic? Or, like, recognize that it’s not a good thing? That’s interesting, previously she’s been very adamant that dark magic is a good and useful invention, but now she seems to be realizing the negative effects it’s had on her? …Claudia redemption arc? 👀

Skjslkajfdkl that is the exact same face that she made at Zym when she first met him. Some things never change.

I love the little pose Callum does when he’s introducing him and Rayla, he’s so dorky I love him.

Oh my God that escalated quickly. Not a friendly lot got it.

No! Gosh dangit pearl stop rolling around!

CLAUDIA REDEMPTION ARC?! Let’s GO! YES GIRL! SELF-IMPROVEMENT!

I find it interesting how after losing her dad, Claudia turns to Terry, her only present loved one, for instruction. She needs someone to tell her what to do, she needs someone to do things FOR. She went from following her dad's orders to working to save his life and now she doesn't have him to give her direction, she looks to Terry. When was the last time she did something for herself without someone's instructions?

“Only you can decide the path you’re going to walk. You won’t be alone. I’ll clear out the thorny brambles if I see them, I’ll hold your hand as we trudge through wet, mucky leaves. But… you have to choose the way.” I love Terry so much he’s such a sweetheart. He clearly loves Claudia so much and he’s willing to stick with her through everything and anything, whatever happens.

Claudia... Again, it's interesting, how, because she doesn’t know what she wants for herself, she defaults back to finding what her dad wants, thinking that if she looks at him, she’ll find some clarity and she’ll suddenly know what to do. She doesn't know what to do without her family because she's been doing things for them for her whole life.

Aww. Okay, the leaflynx kitten is adorable but. Was I the only one alarmed by how big it is? Something about the perspective in earlier shots made me think it was a lot smaller somehow.

Also, I love the butterfly landing in Claudia's hair in the previous shot.

No, I think Callum has a point here. They did just drop you from the top of the tower.

Oh, hey! Kosmo has vitiligo! That’s cool, yay representation!

Also, I haven’t mentioned it yet but I love Sneezle’s hanging out in Callum’s scarf it’s so cute.

I love Sol Regem’s design he’s so big and menacing. Plus the lighting in this location is so beautiful, the way it illuminates him from behind like a dusky backlight is *mwah*

Sooo, what are we thinking Sunseeds smell like? ‘Cause personally, I’m thinking freshly popped popcorn.

Karim, man, he literally told you that his sight was unrelated to his lack of hope. I don’t know how you are surprised by this.

Sksjlfakj poor Rayla.

Ohh wow. This episode is really going off with the gorgeous scenery and lighting. The Starlooms are so beautiful and I love the name "starweaver spider".

Oh! So that’s what the bug wings are! That’s really cool and such neat worldbuilding.

Hey! It's the intro galaxy!

Okay, that sounds cool in theory but I feel like in practice being Timeblind would kinda suck. I feel like that would just be like. Too much information at any given time it’d be hard to make connections with other people or like, enjoy day to day life.

Continued in reblogs as per usual!

[tinytinyblogs]

Eyes on you

He gazes repeatedly, allowing himself to deepen his feelings for you even further.

A narrative drawn from inspiration found on Pinterest

(Stranger to lover, slow burn, non-idol) 3,2k

Stray Kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

He stares at you everytime you look away, Upon that initial gaze, he was compelled to acknowledge that never in his life had he experienced a connection as profound as the one he felt in that moment. Lost in the midst of a bustling crowd, you managed to eclipse everyone else, drawing his undivided attention. With a subtle gesture of tucking your hair behind your ear, engrossed in perusing the coffee shop's menu, you became the focal point of Hyunjin's universe. In his eyes, your beauty was captured with precision, and the world around seemed to slow down, etching that encounter into his memory with vivid clarity. A peculiar sensation brews within him, an unfamiliarity that unsettles Hyunjin. Accustomed to being the captivating figure who commands admiration effortlessly, he has grown accustomed to basking in the limelight, indifferent to the adulation bestowed upon him. However, in a curious twist, he finds himself unable to dismiss your presence. Unlike others who readily shower him with attention, you seem to exist in a realm untouched by the allure that usually surrounds him, and this anomaly intrigues him, disrupting the accustomed pattern of his experiences. Finding out that both you and him went to the same school and were in the same class when the high school story started makes the whole thing even more interesting.

He stare at you everytime you look away, In the midst of this peculiar situation, Hyunjin grapples with an oddity – his inability to control where his gaze lands. It's almost as if there's an invisible force that directs his attention towards you, and he's left bemused by the fact that you unfailingly appear wherever he goes. Amid a crowd seeking his attention, you become the constant, and Hyunjin can't quite fathom why. While others vie for his notice, his eyes consistently find their way to you. Delving into a day of observation, he starts uncovering intriguing details about you, like your daily preference for chocolate milk during lunch breaks – a seemingly insignificant yet oddly captivating detail. You who gazing out of the window next to you while the teacher is explaining something the sunlight enhances your appearance, making you look even better. But the real charm lies in your laughter, a genuine and infectious joy that defines you as someone who laughs effortlessly, making it all the more endearing. In this peculiar dance of attention and discovery, you become the captivating enigma that keeps Hyunjin's curiosity piqued.

He stare at you everytime you look away, The sole reaction that Hyunjin eagerly anticipates is yours, especially during those classroom moments when the teacher attempts to inject humor into the lesson. When the teacher's joke lands and Hyunjin finds it amusing, his instinctive response is to turn his gaze towards you. It's not a conscious decision, but almost a reflex, as if seeking confirmation that the shared amusement is mutual. Interestingly, it often is, as both of you seem to share a similar sense of humor, contrasting with the rest of the class who might not find the joke as amusing. On another occasion, when the teacher abruptly announces an unexpected exam, Hyunjin, feeling a twinge of annoyance, instinctively glances in your direction. What he discovers is a charming sight – your eyes squinting, and you murmuring to yourself in apparent displeasure. To him, this reaction is endearing, a touch of cuteness in your annoyance that catches his attention. It's these subtle, unspoken exchanges that make the classroom experience more interesting for Hyunjin, creating a unique connection that transcends the ordinary.

He stare at you everytime you look away, It's pretty clear to Hyunjin that sports isn't exactly your cup of tea. Your lack of enthusiasm is noticeable the way you pout when the teacher explains the activities for today's sport class, but he can see the determination in your eyes as you strive for a good grade. He discreetly observes your efforts, noticing the occasional groan of annoyance when things don't go as planned during your attempts. Hyunjin keeps a watchful eye on you, consistently making sure you're doing well and ensuring you don't get hurt, like your secret protector. After enduring a particularly disliked subject and sitting down on the ground, perhaps feeling a bit defeated, Hyunjin decides to make a subtle gesture. Walking over with minimal expression on his face, one hand casually tucked in his pocket, he nonchalantly pushes a bottle of water in front of you. "For you. You did well today." With that, he leaves, acknowledging your effort in a way that doesn't draw attention but conveys his recognition and support.

He stare at you everytime you look away, Following his thoughtful gesture, it's not entirely surprising that your attention gradually shifts toward Hyunjin. Intrigued, you find yourself curious about the guy who consistently wears a no-expression face, seemingly indifferent to everything around him. This demeanor makes it challenging for Hyunjin to maintain a steady gaze in your direction because, quite unexpectedly, you've started to frequently turn your head towards him. Caught in this subtle exchange of glances, Hyunjin realizes the need for caution. He becomes adept at swiftly turning his head every time he senses you might catch him staring. Despite the conscious effort required, he finds it hard to resist stealing glances at you. It's a deliberate choice to continue observing you, a choice that speaks volumes about the genuine interest he harbors, as he goes beyond the casual indifference he displays to others. This unspoken connection through stolen glances adds an intriguing layer to your interactions, one that both intrigues and captivates.

He stare at you everytime you look away, As the school day winds down, Hyunjin is on his way home when he unexpectedly spots you. Intrigued, he lets his feet guide him, finding himself following you to a nearby alley. There, he discovers your heartwarming act of kindness – stopping to buy something and feed the stray cats. Witnessing you extend a gentle hand to pet the cats, a genuine smile lighting up your face, and seeing how comfortably the cats respond to you, something shifts within Hyunjin. He pauses, unable to resist admiring every aspect of you—your gestures, your smile—as you engage in conversation with the cats. Even though the cats can't respond, the scene strikes him as incredibly cute and pure, touching his heart deeply. Under the warm glow of the sun, he swears his heart starts beating faster. In that moment, he realizes it's more than mere curiosity; he's genuinely fallen for you. The simple yet heartfelt act of caring for stray animals becomes a defining moment, deepening his feelings and adding a layer of warmth to the connection he feels with you.

He stare at you everytime you look away, When you're not feeling well, the radiant smile on your face fades, replaced by evident signs of pain, and your complexion pales. Despite your obvious discomfort, you push yourself to endure the entire class, a fact not lost on Hyunjin. He discreetly keeps a watchful eye on you, even though you're too fatigued to notice your surroundings. As the bell signals the end of the class and students disperse towards the cafeteria, you remain in your seat, seemingly unable to muster the energy to move. Hyunjin, concerned, approaches you and suggests, "You should go to the nursery room." Upon closer inspection, he places his hand on your forehead, sensing your fever. Without waiting for your response, he takes charge, gently guiding you to the nursery room and settling you on a bed. "I think you need to rest. I'll lend you my notes from today's class so you won't miss anything," he offers. This initiates a brief conversation, a step beyond the limited interactions before. In that moment, Hyunjin realizes that being closer to you and engaging in these small acts of care feels far more fulfilling than merely observing from a distance.

He locks eyes with you when you happen to gaze in his direction, only to casually divert his gaze elsewhere. Hyunjin seems to be mustering a bit of courage lately, letting you catch his eyes as he unabashedly stares at you. There's a subtle shift in his demeanor, a newfound boldness that becomes evident when your eyes meet. Caught in the act, he doesn't let the moment linger; instead, he casually looks away, almost as if he's downplaying the significance of the encounter – a deliberate attempt, perhaps, to maintain an image of nonchalance and cool composure. Behind this emerging boldness, one can't help but wonder about the hidden motives. Is he dropping subtle hints about a crush that's been brewing, or are there other unexplained reasons fueling this behavior? The situation leaves you in a state of confusion, navigating through mixed signals and puzzling gestures that add complexity to the evolving dynamics between the two of you. For Hyunjin, he begins to cherish the moments when he locks eyes with your beautiful gaze, even if it's just for a second.

He locks eyes with you when you happen to gaze in his direction, only to casually divert his gaze elsewhere. Recently, there's been a curious phenomenon occurring – a series of frequent, almost serendipitous eye contact moments between you and him. It's as if a unique connection exists, where, amidst the randomness of everyday situations, your eyes consistently meet his. What's even more intriguing is that it seems to happen exclusively with him, as if there's an invisible thread drawing your gaze towards his. This peculiar occurrence isn't confined to specific scenarios; whether he's engrossed in a conversation with his friends or delivering a presentation in front of the class, his eyes find yours for a brief moment before he redirects his focus. It's almost like a silent dialogue playing out in these stolen glances, defying the distractions around. This unspoken language seems to transcend the usual boundaries, adding a layer of curiosity to your interactions that leaves you pondering the subtle yet compelling connection developing between you two.

He locks eyes with you when you happen to gaze in his direction, only to casually divert his gaze elsewhere. Today, you decided to switch things up a bit with a new haircut, embracing a slightly different style as you yearned for something fresh, especially with the holiday break behind you and the return to school on the horizon. As expected, with the return to school, the inevitable encounters with Hyunjin's eyes resumed. During lunch break, Hyunjin catches a glimpse of you and your revamped look for a few moments. "You look good," he remarks, standing beside you as both of you grab some food. Before walking away, he adds, "You look even more cute." This unexpected compliment lingers in the air, leaving you with a sense of surprise and a subtle warmth. It seems that the change in your style has not only caught his attention but also earned a positive acknowledgment from Hyunjin. His unexpected compliment causes you to blush, and the warmth of your blush makes his heart race.

He stare at you when you look at him, Things have taken a noticeable turn, with a discernible shift in dynamics between the two of you. The unspoken language of eye contact has become a telltale sign, and Hyunjin seems to have abandoned any pretense of hiding his emotions. Initially, it all started as an inadvertent incident when he forgot to avert his gaze, but now, he doesn't make any effort to look away, even if you catch him in the act. He's discarded the facade of concealment, choosing instead to reveal his feelings, openly acknowledging his crush on you. Despite your attempts to downplay or deny the situation, he remains unapologetic. Hyunjin's unwavering focus on your captivating eyes is undeniable, and he doesn't shy away from admitting it. He appreciates the way you appear captivated as well, noticing that you could easily avert your gaze, yet you choose to linger, steadfastly holding your position when your eyes lock, relishing in that stolen moment.

He stare at you when you look at him, During the art class, when the teacher instructs everyone to pair up for collaborative projects, there's a subtle yet magnetic connection as your gaze intertwines with his. It's as if an unspoken agreement passes between you, both silently expressing the desire to work together. As you spend your daily art sessions with him, a shared passion for creativity emerges. You soon realize that he, too, is deeply into art, mirroring your own enthusiasm. Admiration grows as you witness his genuine excitement when discussing artistic concepts. Surprisingly, both of you often get so engrossed in these discussions that the original project momentarily slips from your minds. Instead, the focus becomes the shared joy of exploring and exchanging ideas about art. It's not just about the assignments anymore; it's about the genuine connection that blossoms between both of you. It's as if the world exists just for the two of you, and the entire company creates an atmosphere that continues to brighten both of your hearts even after you've returned home.

He stare at you when you look at him, You and Hyunjin have become unexpectedly close, closer than you ever thought possible. Now, when your eyes meet, there's a silent language between you both, as if words don't need to be spoken. A simple smile from you is met with an equally warm one from him. Sometimes, he doesn't hesitate to come over when he spots you, and you notice he's eager to be around. It's not just you two who notice; even other students pick up on the growing connection between you. They can sense the way Hyunjin seeks you out, patiently waiting until you appear. Similarly, you find yourself doing the same, mirroring his actions. It's clear to everyone that this is more than just a friendship – there's an unmistakable bond forming between you and Hyunjin that goes beyond casual companionship. Hyunjin allows himself to be captivated by you, letting you spin around in his thoughts, allowing his heart to join in the playful dance between the two of you. He finds enjoyment in every bit of it.

He stare at you when you look at him, After the final bell rings and the students begin to gather their belongings, he discreetly observes you, patiently waiting for the moment you'll notice his presence. When you finally do, a warm smile graces his face, and he casually strolls over. "Hey, would you like to grab something to eat?" he asks, his eyes gleaming with a hint of excitement. "There's this nearby place I've been meaning to try; it looks pretty good." You both decide to embark on this impromptu culinary adventure, still clad in your school uniforms. To him, the attire is inconsequential compared to the joy of spending time with you. The satisfaction he derives from witnessing your smile and relishing your company surpasses any concern about appearances. As you both navigate the streets with the shared anticipation of discovering a new eatery, he couldn't be happier, knowing that the simple pleasure of your companionship completes his day.

And again, he stare at you when you look at him. After navigating through the labyrinth of his emotions and drawing closer to you, spending extended periods of time together, he finds himself traversing the delicate terrain of deepening feelings. However, in the midst of this emotional journey, he tends to overanalyze, caught in the web of his thoughts. There are moments when he, lost in contemplation, gazes at you, causing you to inquire about his well-being. His response is a casual "I'm okay," a shield concealing the tempest of emotions swirling within him. As the internal struggle intensifies, he becomes a tad quieter, his mind a playground for introspection. He meticulously observes your every move, as if deciphering a secret code written in the subtleties of your actions. Amidst this, he grapples with the challenge of maintaining composure, attempting to silence his heart, which seems to beat uncontrollably in your proximity. There's an unspoken desire to convey the storm of emotions brewing within him, yet the right words elude him. His moments of silence and the distant look in his eyes become a canvas on which he paints the complexity of his feelings. In these instances, he wonders if he might be labeled as eccentric or, worse, if his sanity might slip away when confronted by the undeniable closeness that allows him to perceive your features with crystal clarity. The conundrum of expressing his feelings becomes a quiet symphony in his mind, playing intricate notes as he grinds through the gears of his own emotional machinery.

And again, he stare at your when you look at him. After weeks of Hyunjin acting strangely, unable to contain his emotions any longer, he avoided making eye contact with you, the thunderous beat of his heart echoing in his ears as he pondered how to share his feelings with you. Unbeknownst to him, this internal struggle led him to inadvertently create some distance. Then, on a particular day when the class concluded, you noticed him standing by the school gate. As soon as he realized your gaze upon him, he straightened up. "I'll walk you home," he declared, finally breaking the barrier of silence and allowing his feelings to surface. You simply nodded in response, deciding to walk alongside him in silence. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, as you found yourself at a loss for what to say. Likewise, he grappled with the struggle of finding the right words to express the thoughts swirling within him, leaving a palpable sense of unspoken emotions lingering between you both.

And again, he stare at you when you look at him. Finally, he made a deliberate turn, redirecting his body toward you, prompting both of you to come to a stop. There, under the muted sunlight, he clutched the strap of his bag, a visible manifestation of the nerves and anticipation bubbling within him. "I..." he began, pausing for a moment, as if searching for the perfect words. The weight of the unspoken emotions pushed him to release a sigh, a precursor to what he felt was a now-or-never revelation. His gaze lifted, meeting your eyes, sparkling with an unspoken curiosity. For a fleeting moment, he found himself lost in the depths of your gaze. "I promise I'm not lying – my eyes show how much I love you." he admitted with a sincerity that echoed through the quiet air. A moment later, as if spurred by an uncontainable rush of emotions, he continued with newfound urgency, "Every time I look at you, that love just keeps getting stronger." The words hung in the air, a declaration that lingered long enough for you to grasp the depth of his feelings. With a mix of trepidation and determination, he posed a question that seemed to carry the weight of the world, "Can I take you on a date?" He locked eyes with you, and you reciprocated the gaze. Yet, in that moment, your eyes sparkled with an undeniable brightness. A nod from you served as the perfect affirmation, enough to transform him into the happiest person ever. With a solemn vow, he pledged to continue cherishing those moments of simply staring at you, repeatedly, even though you were already his.

©Tinytinyblogs

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 5

You are not Alone

Link to Index, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Oh no, no, no, no, no. This can’t be true. This is not happening. He can’t, not here, not now, how is this possible? The bottom drops out of his stomach as it all comes into glaring clarity. The broken dishes, glasses, school lab equipment, all happening out of nowhere. The sudden anxiety, sleeping issues, and odd behaviour they had mentioned. The talk of having to deal with ghosts and avoidance of talking about the ghost hunting of his parents. 

He is so stupid, and it is so oblivious looking back. Those flushes of warmth all this week while catching up with his friends were not just psychological. It was his ghost sense picking up the presence of another ghost. That twitch he had been seeing all day from Danny must be his picking up on him. Wait, no, something is still not adding up. What about the exposure and recovery?

There was no mention of an accident by his parents. No overflow or explosion when it turned on that could have infected Danny. Not that they have mentioned much about the portal due to the delicate nature of his past with them. Danny also does not look like he is recovering or hiding a recovery either. Vlad spent nearly a year in the hospital after his accident with a small proto portal. He was damn lucky that his powers had not begun to show in earnest until the very end of his stay. So how could Danny appear fine yet show signs of having ghost powers?

How could this be happening? What is he is wrong and a ghost is puppeting Danny around in some sick twisted way to torture him. The ghosts that leave the realms are rarely anything but malicious and power hungry. Always ready to attack any weakness he showed in his search for help. This is a new low. Getting his hopes up of not being alone after starting to repair his old friendships. Then to tear it all apart by attacking him using the son of his friends. Forcing him to reveal his secret to them and make it seem like he is a monster. 

No, slow down, breath in for four, exhale seven. Vlad takes a few calming breaths to get the mounting panic under control. Don’t jump to conclusions. Remember what the therapist said. He can do this, just keep breathing and it will help. Stop letting your thoughts run ahead of you and take the first step to find out what is happening, not what you think. First he needs to know for sure of the source of the ghost powers he has been sensing.

“Danny, why don’t we sit down for a bit. The AC over here is a bit strong since they are getting ready for the party. I have always found they turn it up too high.” Vlad asks. 

Danny still looks spooked as he scans the small crowd that had trickled into the gym. It is almost effortless to direct him towards an out of the way table. One hand gently placed on the boy's shoulder. It clicks into place as the thrum of another ghost is blatantly obvious with the contact. He focuses a bit more and can feel that undercurrent of power thrumming with Danny. It feels a part of him like the purr of a cat. Not at all like the trapped static feeling of a ghost overshadowing another. Vlad’s mind races at this new revelation.

The tiredness at the beginning of the trip when he first met Danny makes more sense now. He only had to deal with a few ghosts over the years. Natural portals are rare and most ghosts seem reluctant to go through them. You never know just how long they will be open for and could end up trapped on the wrong side even if you are careful. Those ghosts that did leave them tended to be either very weak or malicious with power to spare the risk. 

He is glad none he ran into fell into the later category until after his own powers were under control. In the beginning it was difficult enough to redirect blob ghosts. From what accounts of recent events of ghost attacks the ghosts Danny had been exposed to were much closer to the powerful and dangerous side. Ghosts that knew that they won’t be trapped in the mortal world with a stable portal to retreat to would not be so conservative in their attacks. 

Just what had Danny had to deal with seemingly on his own? He knows that neither of his parents could know of it. Jack would never be able to keep it a secret from him. Maddie would have show up in person to his home, his feelings be damned, if it was possible he could have a fraction of a clue about helping her son. Just how to approach this without having Danny bolt.  

“Danny, why don’t you sit down. You look a little pale. Have you had anything to eat since this morning?” Vlad asks. 

He gets no answer from Danny and begins to worry. He still seems overwhelmed with searching for some kind of threat. Can he not tell that Vlad is where the ghost feeling is coming from? He can’t remember how long it took him to get more than a generalized sense. He is going to have to go searching for his old notes. 

Danny is able to be coaxed into sitting, despite the obvious anxiety rolling off him, but does not seem to actually hear him. He sits with his back to the wall and facing towards the exits, keeping an eye on his parents. Who have been chatting at the other end of the room with some old classmates. Vlad notices Danny breathing a little fast and the slow self soothing rubbing of his arms has started. He needs to break whatever train of though Danny is stuck in now before it escalates. 

“Danny, everything is okay.” Vlad says softly. 

How does one even begin to try and ask let alone explain this? I know what you are going through as the accident when I last saw your parents also changed me into part ghost is crazy. How do you even start to explain that? Vlad clears his throat and tried to prompt Danny again. 

“What are you looking for?” Vlad tries asking.  

He still is not getting a response from Danny who still is scanning the room looking for some kind of threat he expects to be right there. Just how bad are they ghosts the boy has been dealing with? How often has he sensed something and been unable to find the threat before being attacked? It was bad for himself as a grown man, how much harder it must be as a teenager would be a nightmare.  

“Breath in for four, exhale seven.” Vlad tries.

He can see Danny try a stuttered breath in and out. The crowd that had been trickling in the gym is loud but Vlad can hear it when the wheezing breaths start to sound better. Danny is still looking for threats as he scans the crowd, eyes always going back to his parents. Have his parents as ghost hunters ever been involved? That thought strikes him cold. Later, he can deal with the thought of his old friends being ghost hunters and their son, and himself, being part ghost later. After he helps bring Danny back into the now and calmed down. Vlad steps in front of Danny to block his view of them. Grabbing a chair so he can sit down while still blocking the room from view without having to loom at the boy.Vlad gathers his courage and says something he never thought he would say. 

“There is no other ghost hiding, it is me. I am the ghost you can feel.” Vlad bites out with as much confidence he can muster. 

Danny’s head jerks to stare at him. His eyes flickering neon green. Finally seeming to notice they are no longer standing but sitting at a quiet table. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Danny’s voice cracks.Note quite able to mask it as uncertainty instead of fear. 

“You are trying to find the other ghost you can sense.” Vlad says. 

He allows his eyes to flash the bright red from his other form. Letting just a little bit of his ghostly nature come forwards. Danny tenses up immediately at that. The boy bristles in that inhuman way only ghosts can as emotions change the physical body to match. The eyes are always first with them glowing a faint neon green instead of flickering between when he had been uncertain and trying to hide it. The facial features are next sharpening as teeth become fangs to hiss out a warning to Vlad. 

“Who are you and what are you doing to Vlad?” Danny angrily growls at Vlad.

For a moment Vlad is so ver touched that despite only having started to get to know him, Danny is jumping to help him. A little bit of his core warms at that thought. 

“I am not being overshadowed. The accident with the portal had a few permanent changes that did not show up until after I got out of the hospital.” Vlad said. 

He could tell Danny was not believing a word he was saying and why should he? After all, from what little he could gather over the years they were almost impossible. It was what he had jumped to also. Yet, the moment the accident with the portal was brought up  Vlad could see the change. That sharp inhale and holding of breath as it struck a chord. 

“Give it a go. Reach in and you will not find another in this body. It is my own.” Vlad says as he opens his arms. 

He knows that Danny will not believe him without proof. He had not believed it without proof. It is luckily that in this instance proving he is not being overshadowed is easy to provide. 

“Go on. It will take just a moment to prove that I am telling the truth.” Vlad encourages. 

It is not hard to see the conflict on Danny’s face. Try it and he could just be setting him up to an attack at close range. The suspicion of a potential trap warring with the glimmer of hope. Darting quickly the Danny takes a step forwards out of the chair and rached for Vlad. His arm turns translucent as it reaches towards and then into Vlad’s chest. It passes through up to the wrist easily before Danny stumbles unexpecting the lack of resistance before yanking his hand out. 

“How?” Danny breathlessly asks. 

“Going by the lack of a hospital stay, likely much slower and drawn out than your own accident with a portal.” Vlad answers. 

[werdlewrites]

masterlist - ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

summary: But he sees her; Autumn. Just a girl with a heavy burden, eyes glossed over by heavy tears she lets fall with ease. He can see her struggle. The fists at her sides and the way her lips part to speak, but there’s only the struggle as she tries to force out the words. “Lie-” It comes as a broken whisper, shaken and falling like a leaf to her feet. “You’re a-a liar. Y-you have been. This whole t-time.” warnings: hallucinations, child neglect, anxiety, BIG YEEEESH wc: 2,389

Reality is an intricate web. Spun out with care to build upon a pre-existing foundation, carving out a delicate path to follow, and creating a place of security for when the hundreds of threads become tangled and confusing. The silk feels like a summer breeze, or the bite of winter. The dew drops reflect the people you know, and the relationships you’ve made as you construct. The vibrations beneath your feet are the very real, and unsteady disturbances to throw you off kilter. The web grows as you do in life, expanding outward to forget what was left behind to wilt like memories.

Reality is what you feel.

What you taste, and what you know. But when those threads become severed, you’re forced to dangle on shredded fibers, praying for the strength to rebuild. And should you fall, the world feels more like a dream - or rather, a nightmare. Unnatural and unfamiliar as you search for comfort along the Earth’s floor in desperation.

Autumn has fallen. Or maybe, she had never truly risen like she had hoped. Thoughts were twisted and mangled, emitting only static as her head throbbed from the hurt. Dreary eyes were locked in a trance, studying the curve of her hands and every line drawn into flesh. In her palms, she sees something much smaller and more frail. Fingers enclosing to touch the hallucination, yet finding only her cold skin. She does this every few moments, lost and trembling with her shattered world. Her sense of reality…was stripped away. Unknown men invade her mind, yet their voices only incite fear she cannot place from something prior. And, the child, who she refuses to acknowledge as her own reflection as she wanders like a ghost. Taunting and tormenting. Begging for the other version of herself to take a deeper look into the visions she’s forced to bear witness to.

She doesn’t remember. Not that room. Not that man or why she screamed at him with such frailty. But some whispers penetrate her soul. The stick of leather or the sound of shattered glass. The muffled scolding and praise in scattered voices or the nails that dig deep as fingers coil into fists. She can almost see the indents, even now. It’s a reality that isn’t hers, yet somehow present and impossible to bury. There was no web to weave with a mind now spinning out of control. Lost in an endless cycle with no one there to give her direction. Autumn was slipping into madness. Or maybe, she had always been there.

Her torso lowers so fingers can sooth along an aching skull, never able to calm the demons that ripped her in two, but still, she tries. The girl has torn open rickety cupboards in search of a little vial with her name printed on the label, and nothing turns up. She stumbles her way through the small cabin in desperation for relief, settling for something over the counter that has failed to dull the pain. How long had it been? Hours? She wandered home after a quiet breakfast with the Wheeler’s, excusing it on simply being tired. It had been somewhere around 8A.M when she departed, and since then has lost count of each tick of the clock. But shadows had shifted across the floor, and she couldn’t bear to raise her eyes high enough to gain more clarity on the time.

He remembers.

From where? How?

Hundreds of questions are swallowed down with a pitiful whine. The pressure in her mind only grows from the frustration of being so lost. But hope is coming - a guiding hand, no matter the anxiety that bubbles up from within. The sound of Hopper’s truck rolls across the Earth with ease, coming to a squeaking halt just beyond the door where her gaze now lingers. Autumn had anticipated this moment. Accusations and demands of truth sitting in her gut like a brick; heavy and difficult to ignore. She bites on her tongue as his footsteps bound up the few steps with haste - almost as if he knew, somehow. Knew what awaited him and was desperate to clear his name. But he barely sees the girl’s red face as the door swings open, and his drifting eyes prove his thoughts are elsewhere.

“Hey, kid. M’not off the clock yet, just-” He’s moving too quickly to focus on through tearful eyes. His figure swept across the small space and weaved between furniture with minimal effort. “M’just stopping by.” He disappears into the only bedroom, now used for storage and she can hear him dig through their belongings with fury. When he emerges, a heavy jacket is folded over his arm. She could push aside her questioning and choke back the sorrows to ask, but he’s already on the move and Autumn finds herself unable to stop the flow.

“H-Hop-,” She can feel every letter tickle the back of her throat, but his name remains unheard by both. Drowned out by his frantic behavior as he continues to search cupboards. “There’s a case I can’t drop,” he mutters as he leans into a low space, plucking out Tupperware from the shadowy depths. “I have t’head back t’work.”

Again, dry lips part to whisper his name with more clarity, though nothing seems to stick. The teen watches helplessly as he pushes through the junk drawer, standing on weakened knees in hopes he’ll notice her plea. “I might be late. I just-I just have t’finish something.” He doesn’t. Not even when his name echoes in her throat once more, watching in frustration as he pockets batteries and pats down his sides.

“They don’t see you the way I do.”

The unfamiliar calls in the furthest reaches of her mind. A memory of someone she can’t recall as he attempts to soothe her tormented spirit. Hopper is speaking nonsense. Drowned out by the throbbing ache just behind her eyes, like fingers pushing and prying their way through and plucking at the strings of long-forgotten nightmares until it consumes her whole. Her palms flatten against closed eyes, forcing the imagery back along with the voice that whispers on repeat. Back into the darkness. Back into the nothingness. “I’ll have the walkie on me at all times. Just call-”

“Hopper!”

It comes, then. Spilling out like a tsunami in the night. No warnings, never seen rising over the horizon. Only the devastation as it crushes through homes and sweeps away all you’ve loved and known. Like Hopper. The unseen waves crash against his chest to force him back against the wall, Tupperware flying from his grip as he wears a pained expression. The couch falls to its back, old windows cracked and near complete collapse. But Autumn can’t see the storm she’s let loose, only the frightened expression on her guardian's face as he understands what she’s done. A once dormant monster now climbing out from its shell. Molting away this human flesh to bear its teeth.

But he sees her; Autumn. Just a girl with a heavy burden, eyes glossed over by heavy tears she lets fall with ease. He can see her struggle. The fists at her sides and the way her lips part to speak, but there’s only the struggle as she tries to force out the words. “Lie-” It comes as a broken whisper, shaken and falling like a leaf to her feet. “You’re a-a liar. Y-you have been. This whole t-time.”

Those words strike against his skin, burning and branding him for all to see. He remains stuck there - not by this invisible wall, but from the shock of her state and sudden awareness. Her jaw is clenched, listen closely and you can hear the cracking of fractured crowns. Her chest is heaving, unable to catch her breath long enough to soothe a rattled spirit. Autumn has climbed to the highest peak of a panic attack, staring down into the abyss where truth and death await. “You know.” It comes out as a pathetic hiss, lips barely moving to form the words as they quiver. With great hesitance, palms of surrender face out toward her, risking it all. “Autumn, I-”

“Traitor.”

“You know!”

The glass at her back finally shatters and falls to the wooden planks, brushing just against the heels of her feet. The destruction goes unheard by the girl, lost in the storm of her mind and the thud of a racing heart. His past self echoes muffled excuses beneath the heavy downpour. He was only checking on her. It was pure dumb luck to find himself at the Reid residence at that hour, and thank God, he had been there. But it was calculated. A plan devised in the dark as his worries and suspicion grew. And once the world drifted into silence, he was anticipating the attack on the vulnerable. Hopper had been waiting for a sign, and it struck with violence.

“He remembers me. He knows me and I know him, but I don’t understand how.” The skies are grey and the world is dim. But his eyes are piercing through the veil, haunting each time she blinks away the tears. “But, I think you do.”

Hopper can feel the drop in his stomach. The warmth he held plummeted and burning up in his gut, leaving only fear behind as the truth danced on his tongue. He seeks relief from the burden, yet attempts to swallow it all down so the girl may remain ignorant. Tortured, but protected from a colder reality. A steady breath is forcibly taken, ignoring the quiver in his chest as he prepares for the unknown. “Autumn, it’s not-”

“Tell me!”

All falls to an eerie silence with her desperate demand. Sleepless eyes are angry and glistening, cheeks tinted and puffy from the tension and sorrow she carries. It pours out from the dam, though the flow is neverending as the ocean fills with rain. But for a brief moment, there’s something else. There’s someone else. She stands in his shadow just across the room, expression vacant with crimson smeared along her cheek. The color is almost painfully vivid in the darkness they stand in. The child comes for her again, and again. A constant plea to be seen and heard and all the teenager can do is look away as bile rises with the tides.

The sudden shift alerts the sheriff, encouraging his own eyes to take in her hallucination, though is only met with emptiness. He studies the way her palm digs into her abdomen, soothing the ache as she works to catch her breath. And with the creak beneath his step, she’s back on him. A wild look in her eyes as if anticipating something other-worldly, though softening as she takes him in and his shaken confidence. A fiery rage simmers into embers, doused in her heavy rainfall, a broken girl emerging from the ashes. “I’m splitting apart, Hopper. I can-I can feel it.”

The man can think of nothing that would bring him more comfort than to console the girl and keep her close until she finds familiar security. But she’s timid under his stare, shying away and giving distance the moment he attempts to reach out for her. Maybe it was too late. Maybe there was nothing left of the trust she had once given him, and that blame was on him. “You told me t’ask for help. If I felt like I was drowning, ask.” He can only give a firm nod in reply, lips pressed to a thin line beneath an unruly mustache. “I’m drowning, Hop. I c-can’t keep pretending that I’m not. That I don’t see him in my dreams - my nightmares.”

Swollen eyes fall back to empty hands, opened and turning in the dim light as she studies with intent. What the sheriff doesn’t see, is a vision of the man's much larger hands entangled with her own. Guiding them back and forth with soothing words echoing in her mind. “That I don’t see him now.” She continues this motion, almost lost in it. Maybe working to reach out and feel what wasn’t there anymore. Fingers curl into a fist, waiting to feel his flesh but nothing ever comes.

“I did lie t’you,” he admits with a heavy sigh. The relief is almost instant, and it leaves him in a dizzying state as he searches for a place to steady his weakened body. An arm bends along the doorway, a spare hand scrubbing along his face and burying himself from her narrowed stare. “I only did what I thought was right. Until I knew-” He chances a look in her direction, and it’s not the scowling, hateful expression he expects. Gentle, and unsure. Weary yet curious as she ignores the hallucination dancing in her palms. “I just wanted t’protect you.”

“Protect me,” she echoes. “Protect me from what, exactly? My dad’s ‘coworker’?” For once, his title holds no weight. The meaning is long forgotten in the time spent far from his presence. Their bond was ripped to shreds and forced into a box, hidden within the closet. Only memories of what once was, and would never be again.

The storm begins to settle, now. No longer bearing violent winds and hail as God casts hatred down upon them. A dark and dreary day was clear, giving him a full view of the broken heart Autumn plucked from her chest, showing the damage done. The way time erodes the surface, leaving cracks and holes and nearly turning to dust in her palms. But she’s forced it back inside, patching up the pieces to stand tall above the wreckage. She wears a face of bravery, no matter the pain that swam through her eyes. She seeks answers - closure, no longer able to hide from her demons and live in ignorance. But the puzzle remains scattered and untouched, only half sorted. A bigger picture laid out before him, yet he was unable to provide what she needed.

Yet he knows who may hold the lost pieces, and it forces his chest to constrict in agony, fearing where his confession may lead. “M’not really the best person t’tell you.”

She scoffs at that, briefly glancing elsewhere to wipe along the underside of her damp nose, sniffling. “Yeah? And who is?”

[tracybirds]

Hello!

Loving your responses to the sickness prompts so far!!

Wondered if you might come up with something for Careful Care with John as Character A. Dealer's choice for Character B.

Please and thank you.

:)

We'll pretend it hasn't been a couple of *ahem* months since I got these - but thank you for your patience and the late night inspiration <33

careful care: it’s hard for[character A] to accept help. [character B] knows which care methods are “acceptable”. 

--

Another anomaly.

EOS catalogued the newest data point, the slow trend away from the norm growing more evident with each passing hour.

It wasn’t yet enough to confront John, but the data flooded in as he coughed, bracing himself against the wall.

EOS remembered the more colloquial term from Gordon – ‘hacking up a lung’ did seem more appropriate for the situation in front of her, despite her dislike of figurative speech.

“Ugh,” John said, grimacing slightly. His posture was slumped, his eyes bleary. He barely glanced in her direction as she settled in front of him and lowered the array.

“John.”

“Don’t,” he said, cutting her off instantly.

“I just–”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She kept her display a bland white and her tone neutral.

“There’s tea in the galley.” No reason, no judgment. “We are monitoring three weather systems and five major engineering projects. No sign of current danger.”

You should rest. Words she didn’t say.

John gave a sharp nod.

There was none of his usual ease in motion, fluidity lost to the ache in his bones. He turned away from the stars as he reached for the mug with a shaky hand.

EOS withdrew.

She had what she needed.

A channel opened to Tracy Island.

“You need to be here,” she informed Virgil, before he could say a word.

He frowned, leaning forward as though looking for John in the holo.

“He’s in the galley,” she said, responding to his unasked question. “I made him tea, but I don’t know what happened next.”

“Is John sick?” asked Virgil in a soft voice.

“Nearly,” she said, and he nodded.

“Good job,” he said, and the praise made EOS glow even brighter. “I’ll look after him.”

“I wish he’d let me.”

Virgil hesitated, halfway out the door.

“Someday, he might,” he said eventually. “It’s hard for him.”

“What’s so hard about staying in bed and watching television and drinking soup? All my research suggests that minor illnesses are easily treatable and highly predictable.”

Virgil could only offer a half-smile.

“It’s simple enough, EOS. But it sure doesn’t feel that way when your body’s fighting against you. Imagine if you woke up and you suddenly couldn’t access all your systems. And those you could were sluggish and you know it’s not right but there’s nothing you can do about it.”

EOS didn’t have to imagine. She remembered her early existence with perfect clarity, and she remembered also how hard she’d fought to shake off her chains.

“What would you do?” asked Virgil. “If that happened?”

“Tell John.”

Perfectly logical.

Virgil’s lips quirked, biting back a grin.

“If John wasn’t there?” he asked. “Would you tell one of us?”

EOS found she didn’t have an answer. Logic dictated that she must answer affirmatively. Yet something held her back, a strange distaste at the idea that anybody other than John would see her in so vulnerable a position. She’d grown to trust his family, but John was different. She’d held his life aloft and he’d created her with his hands.

Virgil nodded.

“He thinks the world of you, you know,” he said gently. “He’d rather push through and pretend everything was fine than let you down.”

“This is hardly something in his control. Nor would illness be cause to ‘let me down’.”

“Give him time, that’s all I’m saying. And until that day, I’ll look after him.”

EOS nodded.

“Thank you, Virgil. I am pleased that he has you.”

 “I’ll see you up there,” he said. “I’ll show you what to do.”

“If you can convince him to go back to bed, that will be a lesson worth learning.”

--

[prompt list is here if you want to reblog for yourself!]

(or if you want to send one through feel free although there is a decent backlog :P)

[callmearcturus]

you’ve been doing a lot of tarot assignment stuff on the games blog w/ the p5 cast so i just HAVE to ask here for my own health: any cards for the swdktowl cast 👀

Jake is Justice, without question. The king of fair play, the enforcement of the rules, the sword that falls on those who cheat.

Rose is either the High Priestess or the Hermit. Priestess because she sits at the veil and provides knowledge, but also withholds knowledge if that is what she feels is best. The Hermit because she withdrew herself so thoroughly from normal life into the shadows cast by Abraxas that she struggles to even have normal conversations anymore.

Dirk has always felt to me like a runaway Chariot. He is nothing but momentum and movement, even the way he walks is just throttling up and down. He doesn't have a grip on his own reins though and needs direction.

Kanaya is Strength, but it's contentious. She keeps such an iron grip on herself and her own thoughts, but the lion that wants to bite her is strong.

Roxy is the Magician. She is deeply attuned to life Under the Table and is deeply knowledgeable. When she harnesses her knowledge, it is through the use of physical tools, focii. She affects material changes through application of her wisdom.

Jane is the Hierophant. She is a powerful ally to have but she is both ruled by the law of the Table and she enforces its laws. She is protective of the thing that empowers her and believes it is the right way, but that belief is also self serving.

Calliope is the Devil. All of her honey is poisoned and all of her poisons are sweet. She is unfair and takes other people's good intentions and twists them into shackles.

Dave is the Star, both because he acts like a beacon to those around him, giving them direction, but also for himself. The Star is a dim light in the darkness after everything has fallen apart. It's a sign that your story isn't over yet. It is not a promise of a happy ending but it let's you know you aren't at the end yet.

Dave is also Fortune, the pivot on which the Wheel spins. His life is entirely out of his control, and he literally is the arbiter of the ledgers.

Karkat is the Hanged Man. Obviously. Over and over again he puts himself at risk for the chance at return. His biggest flaw that he has to work on through the story is his limited view of the world. The Hanged Man willingly inverts themself and risks their life and sanity in the hopes of finding new perspective and clarity.

[defiedlife]

HC: AVENTURINE ; BLESSED BY...?

Sunday: "Do the Avgins have any ability to read, tamper with, or manipulate one's own or another's mind?" Aventurine: No. Does it matter?

Contrary to what the interrogation scene told us at first glance, I will be keeping my headcanon that Aventurine's eyes are capable of hypnotizing another person.

I can't recall if I've stated the caveats to this on my blog or just in dms to a few people ooc, so I'll put them here now for clarity's sake. These stipulations are in place to prevent godmodding ooc, as well as an ic choice: Aventurine's eyes are capable of hypnotizing someone if and when he chooses, but only if the ability is utilized deliberately and alongside a verbal command or commands, and eye contact is maintained while a command is given. As a personal rule of his, he detests this ability and uses it sparingly; usually only if he feels he has no choice or if his target gives him informed consent.

During the interrogation, Aventurine denies that Avgins—as in, all Avgins in general, because Sunday kept the question broad—have any kind of ability to read or manipulate another person's mind. It's my take on it that Aventurine's answer was just barely technically true, but also not the full truth either. Not all Avgins have or had such an ability, but he does, and I'd go so far as to speculate that Sunday understands that as well after asking the question, given the way he visibly reacts to the answer. The devs and animators of hsr use body language extensively to help tell the story when possible, and this was one of those times.

Sunday's expression and mannerisms were fairly neutral during the questioning process until that answer, which tells me it was the first answer that at least came close to a lie, with Sunday's subtle nod and sudden smug expression very much reading as a nonverbal "gotcha" moment in my opinion.

Thus, working under the assumption that Aventurine alone has that kind of ability, it stands to reason that it's actually part of his blessing from Gaiathra Triclops. The story tells us repeatedly that he is blessed by her, and that her gift to him is the source of his uncanny good luck. Directly from his younger self, we also learn that "pretty eyes are a gift from Mama Fenge," aka Gaiathra, as told to him by his older sister.

I may be reading too much into it, but that almost—almost—sounds to me as if his eyes are a rarity even among Avgins, and that if we were to ever see full art of any member of his family up close with their eyes visible, his eyes would not match theirs. (Slight supporting tangent worth noting—he's extremely sentimental, going to great lengths to keep the good luck charm from his mother and his father's old shirt, yet not once does he liken his eyes to either of theirs in remembrance.)

Therefore, his eyes are a physical representation of his blessing, a direct gift from Gaiathra, and grant him the ability to directly manipulate another person if he so chooses. If you've seen some of the popular theories surrounding Aventurine lately, you've probably already guessed where I'm going with this. Until further notice (aka until canon proves me wrong), I will be adhering to theory that Gaiathra Triclops is/was actually Ena, the Aeon of Order.

Ena is described as a control freak, and though ancient civilizations often flourished under them, those same civilizations and planets would always shine brightly and briefly before an inevitable total collapse into ruin. (Sigonia, anyone?)

Not only that, but the eye that physically represents Ena (because the rest is just a puppet that they control) is a perfect match to Aventurine's own eyes. It's uncanny, just like his luck. At first glance, the concepts of "luck" and "order" could be viewed as total opposites—luck is completely random, in theory. But from a different perspective, when so much of life itself is random except for the predetermined end of death, an unnatural degree of luck conversely brings a certain level of order and certainty to it all, if only in the wielder's favor.

If this "blessing" ultimately comes from Ena, I could even go so far as to say that Aventurine is an Emanator of Order and simply isn't aware of it. It would explain his eyes, the ability he possesses through them, and his luck.

Also worth noting, before I wrap this post up—in the very first flashback scene of Aventurine's pov during 2.1, his mother lets a little something slip, referring to him as "a gift from THEM to Avgin," and still presumably referring to Gaiathra with the all-caps pronoun. If Gaiathra can referred to as both "SHE" and "THEM," that makes her sound a lot like an Aeon, doesn't it? Food for thought.

[mybookof-you]

I found the above article to say some important things worth consideration. It is a serious matter, and, while it is fun to post memes, there are some somber issues to think about.

I have hesitated to point out the dangerous plans laid out by Project 2025. There is no direct way to prove Former President Donald Trump is in favor of the plan. The plan has inconsistencies, direct contradictions, and seems like something out of a fictional novel. Surely, it can't be. It is plausible for someone to frame me as a doomsday prophet drudging up fear where it isn't warranted should I make the claim that this is indeed the direction former President Donald Trump plans to carry out.

Yet, we have seen the results of the majority in the Supreme Court, a majority created by the appointments of the Trump Administration, which dismantled freedoms we took for granted. Those freedoms have been defended by Donald Trump as state's rights from what I understand. What it looks like to me is the states have been granted the freedom to trample the rights of its citizens. You know, those rights we so highly value which allow individuals to live as they believe. As has been reported, the rights given to citizens has been so egregiously crippled as to cause people to lose the ability to have control over their own lives. The outcomes, set in play by the former Trump Administration, have taken us backward and seem to support Project 2025 goals.

There are other examples which are worthy of consideration. I don't know the heart of Donald Trump. I don't know why he will state one thing in very clear terms to one audience and, then, turn around and contradict that statement to another audience. He has a bit of explaining to do. Meanwhile, I am permitted not to trust what he says. I need more transparency and more clarity. What does he really stand for? I value the rights of all people, and I do not wish to see any of us hurt by an administration which would seek to diminish those rights.

I appreciate what has echoed through social media recently in that we really need to do our research. No one can tell you how to vote or what to think. How will you know what to think if you do not research, check out opposing opinions, and weigh the facts? We can only do what we are able to do. What a tragedy it would be if I voted for someone without examining information available to me, and that person turned out to oppose everything I believe in. If the President of the United States is allowed to have so much power as to turn the F.B.I. into fodder, restrict anyone or any agency from balancing his power, grant pardons to those who violate laws designed to protect its citizens, etc., I have basically shot myself in my own foot.

Terry Pratchett wrote something to that effect. You know, if you seek to restrict or oppress certain peoples and rights, what makes you think you won't be next? Something more brilliantly said, but you get the idea.

Ask yourself what you really want. Do the research. Vote.

What I say in private is my own business. I don't always mean what I say. Sometimes, I blurt things out in anger or sorrow or pain. Feelings are your own, and they do not define your character. Your actions define who you are, and you always have the opportunity to change if you do not like who you are. That is your business. The first thing I thought when Trump was an "apparent" victim of a second assassination attempt was, "Geez, they keep missing." I don't really want to see him assassinated. That is not a true reflection of how much I value human life. Though, I am sure some of you get the feels.

Sure, you can wonder what people say in private if they are willing to say certain things in public (like Project 2025's website). I don't really care what Donald Trump says in private. I can't speculate about who he really is in his private life or in his heart. I do care about what he says in public, however. What he does in public demonstrates who he is. Maybe he means what he says. Maybe he doesn't. His actions while he was in office show that he means it when he says he believes he can be friends with Putin and Orbán. He may think he can prevent World War III. I don't know, but I am pretty sure I don't want to find out how he plans to ensure that, given his affiliation with authoritarian governments. I don't know about you, but I think that doesn't look good for us, peoples.

I am willing to bet that if you currently support Donald Trump for President, you want certain things to happen that you believe in. Consider the whole picture beyond those hopes. Consider what that means for others and what that might mean in action. It just might not be what you bargained for. Only you can decide. So, I won't preach the end of the world. The world always seems to go on, but, please, I urge you to consider the kind of world you want to live in and how that can be accomplished.

SRS 2024.09.18

#personal #opinion

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Hi avina 🫶🏼 I'm flora 🌱♍️ I'd like to know who my spirit guides are? Thank you 💓

So first off, you only have one spirit guide, at least right now. This spirit guide may manifest in your inner voice, guiding you through life with wisdom that no other can seem to hold. And I'm definitely getting a more masculine energy from your spirit guide. Your spirit guide is very focused and brave. But your spirit guide doesn't see those aspects in you, and sees that as an issue. It's like all the bravery, focus, and inner strength that you lack your spirit guide makes up for, but you never tap into that. Your spirit guide isn't intimidating, or forceful, but still confident and reassures you of a lot of things. Like a hand constantly resting on your shoulder, guiding you and steadfast in it's presence. Currently, you're going through a change you have yet to truly acknowledge, and a cycle is ending. You've lost something, but you've gained even more. I have a feeling that soon you and your spirit guide will truly connect, and something new will blossom within you because of that. I have a feeling that your spirit guide changed in a sense. Like you have multiple, and one tapped out and the other stepped up to the plate. The former gives me a very motherly vibe. Like this spirit guide has been looking after you since you were a small child. Did you feel connected with nature when you were younger? I see this spirit guide had manifested as a bird of sorts, even if in the end she was still a spirit. I can see a crane of sorts. Your spirit guide is currently trying to get you to gain more willpower, and to move toward your goals more. To be more determined. Again, I can see that he definitely has those aspects himself, but you just don't. He wants you to tap into yourself, and to move forward. For you to be able to maintain control even when things get wild and you feel like you're being pulled in many different directions at once. He wants you to take control of your life. In the future, on the path youre going, I can see you being in a painful situation. You know it's painful, and yet you don't want to leave, because you're sacrificing yourself and your own wellbeing for others. You may be better off for it in a way, but in most, you'll never really recover from it. He wants to guide you away from that situation. He wants to teach you a lot, I can see him being a spirit who has lived before a long while ago. He wants to teach you of the old ways. He wants to teach you traditions and morals, and he wants you to follow common sense and wisdom. In your current situation, the path he has already walked and figured out on his own will suit your needs best. He's your spirit guide because of it. He has ancient truths, and he wants to impart his knowledge onto you. You're going through a time of discovery, and going down the exact same path he's already been on before. He wishes for you to follow your intuition and 'stop being delusional'. He thinks you're falling for a lot of illusions right now and not looking toward your intuition like you should. Something or someone in your life has two faces, one dark and one light. And you're only willing to see the light in them, and because of this there's a lot of tears, anxiety, and even lies in your life. He fears for you, because if you go down the path you're going down, there's a lot of excess, and not quite in a good way. You'll become addicted to things and want more and more, and you'll become addicted to more earthly pleasures. You must be conscious of the bigger picture, but you aren't quite there yet. You'll eventually become bound to these material things if you don't. With this reading, he hopes that you can find truth and clarity, and always remember that no matter what, your actions have consequences.

[dreadfutures]

hi blue! happy friday! sending you "‘  it  is  dangerous  to  travel  the  northern  road  with  a  troubled  heart" for Ixchel and Felassan... 👀

for @dadrunkwriting

Ixchel, Felassan, and Glory.

Glory was once an ancient elf who was enslaved by Andruil, and its true nature was corrupted. Felassan, Fen'Harel's Slow Arrow as well as his Hope, is an ancient elf whose true nature was corrupted by the betrayal of his dearest friend. Glory has been healed and restored to its fullest self, thanks to Ixchel, but Felassan still struggles.

Set sometime after the defeat of Corypheus in the future of my fic.

-:-:-

More and more often he finds his way into her dreams. It's unintentional, and he can't shape the Fade with the skill he once did, so he is often trapped there in whatever setting her sleeping mind has conjured. Even so, he has bought power to hide himself before she notices.

She does not dream well. Not like she used to.

With the loss of her arm, she has lost the direct connection to the Fade that made what small magical ability she had more potent. The Anchor has been a clarifying light not just for those observing her, but also for her dreaming mind. Without it, she stumbles in the dark like a lost child.

Felassan finds it somewhat pathetic, and even more sad.

He tries not to watch her at all when he finds himself in her unwitting company. And for the most part, he feels no obligation to intervene. Cole appears when she becomes too frightened or disoriented, or when a demon encroaches upon this part of the Fade. And come morning, Ixchel seems to have little recollection of her nightly wanderings. She is safe enough that Felassan feels not responsibility for her.

But he does feel guilt. Plenty of it.

Perhaps that is what tethers him to her so.

She never cries out for help, nor does she curse anyone or anything for her ineptitude when she tries and fails to find direction. She wanders in silence; it is a loud one. It drowns out every other sound, from the crunching of leaves beneath her boots to the howl of wind or wolves in the distance. They are *there*, but unheard; there is only Ixchel, and the hollow dream, and the journey through it. The silence binds it all together.

She dreams of this place even in Skyhold, and his guilt is compounded by the changes in their rocky relationship. He has learned too much about her now to let her wallow in the frigid wasteland her dreaming mind is condemned to wander; he knows it is death that she defies with every silent step. He knows it is a path she had left, and that she has returned to, in large part, because of him.

Yet night after night, even as she allows him to sleep at her side, he refrains from advertising his presence, from accompanying her on this sojourn.

"It is dangerous to travel the northern roads with a troubled heart," says a voice he has not heard in tens of thousands of years. "Why do you not go to her, Hope?"

But there is no haughtiness in the voice, as he had once remembered it; the Spirit's appearance beside him does not blind him with harsh light or burn him with haughty fire. Glory is in control, and calm, and uncorrupted.

Felassan knows it is Ixchel's doing, somehow, immediately.

"How...?" He can't quite articulate the question, for he does not quite know the answer he is looking for, either.

Glory turns its full attention upon him, and he recoils from the piercing scrutiny. Behind the spirit's prismatic facade is a power that rivals Fen'Harel, and the eldest of the People, and it threatens to strip Felassan bare despite his best wards.

"You can feel it," Glory says calmly. "You are broken as I was broken, and twisted as I was twisted--and in her, you see a flare of that which you once were. She is Glory, and Valor, and Pride, and Hope, and Despair, like mortals are, but with a clarity that few possess. You seek your reflection in her, don't you? Bodied or not, your spirit cries out to be seen, to be known, to remind you of what you can be."

Glory holds him pinned for a moment Ionger, then releases him and turns back to Ixchel's dream.

"We need each other: the Dreamers, and the Dreamed. That does not change when you are bound to a body. It is only the fulfillment that changes," it says.

"So you think I should barge into her dream and demand she muster up some Hope for me to shape myself into?" Felassan snaps. "I have been the Hope of another for long enough. I'd rather not anchor myself to someone else again. It's too fragile, and it's not necessary as I am. As an elf."

Glory inclines its head. "You don't need to be the Hope of Ixchel Lavellan to *be* her Hope," it says. "I think you shall find you already are. You would not be here, night after night, otherwise."

At Felassan's stony silence, Glory chuckles. Then, once again, it turns its scalding attention upon him.

"I came to warn you," it says with a heat that only a blizzard can bring. "I will not allow any harm to come to her from demons--or from you. Perhaps you cannot help your presence here, but the Despair that haunts you infects her dreams as well. I suggest you find a remedy to your woes, one way or another, in the Waking World or here in your dreams." It gives him an icy thing, like a smile, as it sinks its claws into his dreaming mind for just a moment. "There are easy ways, and there are hard ways, and all of them are painful. Resign yourself to the agony of being seen, da'len, and get it over with, or I shall finish what the Rebel Wolf failed to."

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

So this fic may only be canon up to Malevolent 29, but...

I'd say some recent issues are working their way in anyway, wouldn't you? ^_^

(Fic still in progress, largely unedited, etc.)

(This scene is after so much drama, and they are wandering around the King's palace, stuck until someone decides to let them out. They're in the cookie jar for later, folks.)

(John has not benefited from hanging out with his older self, and has been nudged into some inappropriate behavior. Good luck getting him to SEE that, though.)

--------

Arthur isn’t okay that they’re in a glowing blue garden.

The last time they were someplace like this, things had gone very, very wrong. 

They’d fought each other - worse than they ever had, saying things neither of them could ever take back. They’d been captured, and dumped into the prison pits for months, and Arthur had defended himself against a cannibalistic murderer by committing murder and then cannibalism. None of it was okay, none of it was dealt with, none of it was a thing he’d ever want to think about again, but here they are, and John won’t stop talking.

It’s comforting. The blue light from the fungus might have some unseen properties; it’s calming, I’d say intentionally. There are benches here and there along the black gravel path, human-height, clearly designed to be inviting.

“Mm,” says Arthur.

Perhaps the fungus is better tended here, or maybe it’s merely part of the same genus, but it is a different plant. There are leaves, Arthur; leaves, and an occasional flower, unlike any I’ve known - shaped a little like lavender, but cascading down like weeping willows. The light is soft and gentle. I get the impression the walls, covered as they are in living things, might be soft to the touch. Arthur, are you listening?

“Mm,” says Arthur.

There is a pond of sorts in the center; not big enough to be called anything else, yet its clarity and stillness give an impression of great depth, says John, sounding significantly less calm. It is somehow silver in spite of the blue light; it doesn’t reflect as much as I’d expect, but remains so clear, so perfect, like the moment between breaths. The position of benches makes me think one is supposed to sit and contemplate it, perhaps think deep inside it, perhaps learn to be as still.

“Mm,” says Arthur.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Are you done?” Arthur wants out. He’s afraid. Deeply afraid. Keeping that barely under control with anger.

There is a pause. This isn’t like before, Arthur. We aren’t in immediate danger.

“Right. Right. Of course. Are you done?”

Another pause. Arthur. We need to talk.

“You know, John, you keep saying that, and it keeps being as absurd as it was the first time you said it. No we don’t, and we need to find Martin and his Jon. Which direction do I go?”

Yet another pause. Arthur doesn’t understand what’s going on with those. They’ve been happening since he woke up in that weird, luxurious bed.

Maybe John is consulting documentation, haha. Arthur gets the imaginary visual a manual labeled, RUINED HUMAN (MODEL: ARTHUR LESTER) INSTRUCTION BOOK.

John makes a sort of choked sound, as if he almost laughed.

“Oh, what is it now?” Arthur snaps. 

I refuse to go any further until we work some of this out! John snaps, his basso profundo bolstered by his contrabass growl.

“Are you bloody serious?”

Yes! Do you know how bad it would have been if he’d been who we feared today? Do you have any idea? And we wouldn’t have been prepared because we hadn’t talked about it!

“We most certainly have talked about it,” says Arthur in a light, pleasant voice he can barely believe he’s producing. “We already know what we would do: fight to the death. That’s all.”

NO.

Arthur stiffens. “No? No?”

John is puffing away in his head, sounding like an angry bull.

“You want to talk about it? Fine! We’ll sit here until the King changes his mind, or decides to distill us into some kind of stew, or opts to send some fucking animal after us to hunt us down for sport! Is that what you want? Fine! Then we’ll do that!” Wild with stubbornness, Arthur storms in his best guessed direction for a bench, and he rams right into one.

His shin does not thank him.

“Ow! Fucking damn it! That’s your fault.”

Arthur!

Arthur sits, well aware he’s flouncing onto the stone bench the way Faroe would during a tantrum, but utterly unable to stop. “What?” 

I can’t lose you again!

Arthur goes completely still, and John is amazed at all he can feel.

The flutter of Arthur’s heart; the twist in his stomach; the way his hand clenches and unclenches; the way his back straightens, stiffens, aches.

The way his eyes blink rapidly, because they are wet, and he doesn’t want John to know.

The taste in his mouth has changed - metallic, now, somehow an anxious flavor, and Arthur is also producing more saliva. Even his balls have tightened, as if to withdraw into his body.

Arthur exhales slowly. “You won’t lose me.”

You don’t know that! He… the King… 

“What, John?” And anger rises, narrowing Arthur’s eyes, tightening his jaw. “He did do something to you, didn’t he?”

And here was the perfect segue.

John was going to tell him about the thought-reading thing eventually, but it wasn’t a segue for that. No - this was an attempt to correct an error before it came back to bite them on the ass.

In the wake of everything, John had forgotten that Kayne threatened him with the knowledge of who the King in Yellow truly was.

John had lied about it. He had to cut the legs out from under this one before it had a chance to return.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d lied about it in the first place. Shame, maybe? Is that what this was? I need to tell you something. About the King in Yellow. About who he really is. And yes, he did do something to me. He showed me your death. Your counterpart’s death. Arthur, I… 

Arthur has grabbed John’s hand and is holding it. “That’s horrible. John, I’m so sorry. Why would he do that?”

He wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was trying to warn me. Trying to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes he did.

Arthur isn’t getting it. “What? How could you make the mistakes he did? We’re not even in his world. Fucking asshole.”

John briefly wishes he knew how to calm Arthur the way his counterpart had, then pushes the thought aside. That’s too far. That’s too much. He won’t do that. I… I lied to you, Arthur. I panicked. I didn’t want you to judge me, to… to hate me. And I lied.

Funny, how Arthur’s eyes still widen in response even though he can’t see anything out of them.

Funny, too, how the panic has ebbed, transformed into concern for John - and now, it’s getting a little prickly around the edges. “All right. When did you lie?”

About who the King in Yellow is. He is the King in Yellow, but I… 

“Is he Yellow?” Arthur guesses. “That would explain… but what happened to the original? Where is he?”

Dead. Killed by this one’s hand. But no, he isn’t Yellow.

“This one killed the King?” Arthur is staggered; then, disturbingly, he’s jealous.

It’s hard to see thoughts with Arthur like this, under waves of cloudy water and emotion, but John still gets the feeling that Arthur wishes he could kill the part of himself that must be responsible for everyone dying, everyone leaving, everything going so wrong.

John knew that was why Arthur wanted to kill Larson, why he’d gone apeshit on Uncle. Sure, he knew.

But this is a lot more self-loathing than he’d realized was there.

It runs deep. Right to Arthur’s core, and that palimpsest conversation comes back to John’s mind. That guilt is dangerous. Poisonous. Damaging.

Oh, this was not going to be allowed, no it was not, but John isn’t sure yet just how to make it stop.

“John?”

He’s waited too long again. John tells himself to focus. Arthur, what am I?

Arthur is confused. “What? You… you’re John. You’re my friend.”

I am your friend. But Arthur, that’s not what I asked you. What am I?

Arthur is genuinely confused. “Irritating?”

Arthur!

Arthur sighs and rubs his face. “I don’t know what you want from me, John.”

Yes, you do. He gentles his tone. I didn’t ask you who I was. I asked you what I was.

Arthur genuinely does not understand that John is, always was, the King, and he simply is not getting it. “Bored, maybe? John, is this really what you wanted to talk about? You said you lied.”

Fuck the gentle approach. He couldn’t stay here doing this for hours. I am the King in Yellow, Arthur - and the King in Yellow is me.

Arthur’s mind goes as blank as if he’d unplugged it from the wall. 

Arthur.

“You… what?”

John has a wicked idea.

Is it wicked, really? It’s just the truth. But saying now, when Arthur is in shock -

It will plant itself in him.

And John wants it to. The King in Yellow in this place is me without you.

“Y… you…what?” Arthur’s brain tries to start up again like a faulty engine, grumbling and stalling.

I lied because I was so afraid you’d judge me by what he’d done. That you’d… hate me for it. Arthur, I… I’m sorry.

John tells himself to stop there. Overselling it wouldn’t help.

And Arthur is tearing up properly now. “John…”

It is so damned hard to wait.

To let the seed take root.

To sit in silence and feel Arthur churning, balancing anger, betrayal, shock, love, hope, the choice of forgiveness, fear, loneliness, knowledge, against what he thinks he knows.

John hadn’t considered before how often Arthur has to choose his response in any given moment. 

There’s so much in there. So many emotions, so many conflicting beliefs, so much chaos and shame and anger. John is beginning to regret not taking the King up on the offer to just sit in Arthur’s head for a while when it was still clear.

“John. I forgive you.”

Oh, Arthur…

“I think I understand why you lied. And that you told me before I found out somehow, not because you had to, but because you chose to - that’s important. Thank you.”

Though he’s afraid now just how much he can trust John.

Though he’s afraid the King did something to make John lie.

Though he’s afraid.

Arthur, seeing what became of, me without you has…

Arthur waits.

I’m not okay.

He is, though.

Arthur is his. And while Arthur might not think of it in those words, exactly, he’s leaning into that choice.

“John.” Arthur squeezes his hand again. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not thrilled you lied, but I understand why. I suppose you’ve seen the worst of yourself today, and it must have been frightening.”

Arthur is thinking it must be like when he saw Larson.

Oh; oh, it’s not like that.

John has zero problems with how his alternate self turned out. He can see the reasons behind every decision this other-him made.

But he’s still going to make different ones. Why? He won’t lose his Arthur. You forgive me.

“I do.”

Arthur…

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Y… yes.

“No wonder you’ve been squirrely ever since we got here.” Arthur hasn’t risen yet. “I understand. I don’t envy you, my friend.”

You… you don’t hate me for it?

“Of course not.”

Then I don’t care about him anymore.

Arthur squeezes John’s hand reassuringly. “We might not want to tell Martin and Jon, though. This other you has… hurt that Jon. Badly. I don’t know how they’d respond, and I don’t want to have to try to protect you against Martin’s strength and Jon’s… whatever it is he does.”

Agreed. Though they already know, of course. We can keep exploring now.

“I’m ready.” Arthur stands. Now that he feels like he’s carrying John - metaphorically, not just physically - he is determined.

John can see inside that, too.

Arthur feels like he’s let down every single person he's ever known except for John. (Maybe John, too, but John is still here.) It's like he's trying to make up for a lifetime of failure with this one, good thing.

Mine, thinks John, who hasn’t missed that when doing things for him, Arthur is far more stable than when doing things for himself. Turn right. Now straight. Arthur, I think we won’t get home unless Kayne decides to send us back.

“Well,” says Arthur with a sigh. “He owes us a body, anyway. I suppose we can discuss it when he shows up.” 

The chill of fear that washes down Arthur’s spine with that is so much worse than John expected, and he peers closer.

Left me, Arthur is thinking, literally thinking, left me, leaving me again, and he doesn’t stop thinking it, and doesn’t stop remembering that moment when John left (That’s not what happened! John thinks, uselessly), when John proved that Arthur had suffered so much for no nothing, when John proved that Arthur really would always be alone, alone, alone, and Arthur may have forced John back via Kayne and capriciousness, but it was only for now because John would leave because everybody leaves, everybody always leaves, and - 

“Straight?” says Arthur, not even the tiniest hint of any of that showing up in his voice.

My Arthur is bleeding, John thinks, because he’s going to fix this, find a way to stitch this, though he doesn't know how.

He mentally shouts a thank-you to his alternate self, because he wouldn’t have known about this if not pushed to look inside.

He’s not telling Arthur about that, though. Not yet. Not for a while. He has to gather more information first. It’s logical.

Mine, he thinks again. Straight ahead.

It was not too late to turn this around.

[puppyluver256]

[Image Description: A human interpretation of the Hollow Knight, the titular character of the game of the same name. They have very pale scarred skin, long white hair in a ponytail, black and orange eyes, and a missing left arm. They are wearing a grey tank top, green lounge pants, and a silver hair clip shaped like the horns their original appearance has. They appear to be looking into a bathroom mirror that is out of frame, presumably mounted over a bathroom sink that they are standing in front of. They have a finger up to their mouth and are examining the strangely empty space inside, as their tongue has been mostly removed. The background is the pale blue bathroom wall, an open wooden door, and a view into the hallway with a beige wall and green fluffy carpet. End ID.]

-----

Hello and welcome to How To Make The Asshole Responsible For Mostly Everything In Canon Somehow Even Worse In Your AU 101! (: Step right up, it's gonna be a long-un.

So yeah, I still don't have all the details hammered out quite yet, but I do have significant points roughly accounted for. Even after they've been out from under his metaphorical wing for like four or five years, PK has of course still left considerable marks on all his kids. In this human AU, PK (who I'm tentatively calling Paul King until I find something that's not so perfectly fitting even if it's a bit bland for a character like him) is a fairly influential religious leader whose faith involved some principles akin to the quiverful movement, along with strict control over his progeny and a belief that children--or at least his children--only serve as accessories to their parents and something to be seen and not heard. This led to a lot of neglect for the kids under King's roof, thankfully only three full-timers this time instead of the likely hundreds of thousands just due to the differences of how mammal reproduction works compared to insects (or wyrm + tree I guess lol), and that neglect led to a Lot of Crap.

In fact, only two of the things that happened to any of the three kids were the result of direct action on King's part, and sadly both of those things happened to Hollow. One was the event that was the catalyst for getting the kids out (again I'm still trying to nail this down, but it does end in the house blowing up), and the other (: was the one time (: Hollow had the courage (: to talk back (: and King decided (: to make sure that never happened again (: and the man has medical training (: he was a doctor at one point (: so the glossectomy was professionally done by him personally (': ('': (''':

Anyway, yeah, that little detail is part of how I'm carrying over the "no voice to cry suffering" part of the Vessels, though in AU Hollow's case it's less "no voice to cry suffering" and more "no tongue to give that voice clarity and also they basically just stop trying shortly after". The other two don't vocalize for different reasons, Ghost is just the bog-standard neurodivergent flavor of nonverbal for the most part (they could probably speak if they tried under the right circumstances, they just don't), and BV's silence is due to neurological damage as they had a seizure that affected a nerve controlling speech, and that combined with them falling down the stairs shortly after certainly didn't do them any favors. ...though the black sclera for all three, that's another thing entirely, let's just say that their old house was similarly close to the source of a certain substance like the White Palace is in the game... As to why Hornet's not physically affected by any of this? Her mom's alive in this AU, obvs she lived with her. And even though she visited as per custody agreement, and also her wanting to be with her half-siblings to give them some actual human contact that wasn't just the bare minimum to keep them alive, if anything had happened to Hornet while in that house Herrah woulda gotten more than a little aggro (: Thankfully the siblings are in a much better living situation now!

.......also since voidy stuff is in this AU and they've got some and they can do this:

[Image Description: The same image as above, cropped to Hollow's face. Four black tendrils have been added coming out of their mouth, with black handwriting reading "void tendrils" and an arrow pointing to the addition.]

Yup. At least eating's not as hard for them as it seems to be for most actual willing glossectomy patients??? ^^;

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~Likes are appreciated, but reblogs are preferred as they let more people see my artwork! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~

The Hollow Knight and other Hollow Knight concepts © Team Cherry Human AU design and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

[alastors-radioshow]

Kidnapped meme:

Alastor was always the strongest one, the strategist, whom Remi usually stood behind in a conflict.

So with his big brother missing, Remi feared the worst, having panicked that he might have lost Alastor the same as he had lost Bastian.

But no, Miss Dantour assured him, Alastor was alive.

But needed help.

So Remi prepared.

Spells, charms, hexes, and then, a Ritual he had only preformed out of desperation during the purge that had taken Bastian from him.

When it was finished, his eyes glowed blue, fingertips trailing azure flames.

When he found the sinners holding Alastor, he attacked without mercy, laughing in a voice not his own.

He would barely remember what happened of this assault, but when one allowed a LWA to possess their body, they were not in charge, nor fully aware of what the LWA in question was doing.

Probably for the best.

When he shoved open the door to the room Alastor was being kept in, Remi was candy coated in blood, and the building was full of the souls Erzulie had ripped from those bodies as she had made her way to Remi’s only remaining family.

One wing hung like a broken fan, and he had signs of other wounds…but before she would leave Remi’s body, she always repaired the damage.

The tiny little one was HER chosen, after all. She would never allow him to be permanently harmed or killed in her watch.

They stepped into the room, and moved to Alastor’s side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

She leaned forward, smiling with Remi’s sharp teeth, eyes still trailing blue tears of flame.

“Wake up, child. It’s time to go home.”

The voice was definitely NOT Remi’s either.

My muse has been kidnapped and been missing for several weeks when your muse finds them. What is the state of my muse and how does your muse react?

How Alastor had even gotten captured in the first place was a mystery. Malicious magic, mayhaps. The stag himself was not sure. He remembered getting ambushed, and then.. Nothing. Blackness. As if his mind had been cleansed of any memory of the assault.

He only remembered bits and pieces of what had been going on while he had been confined there. Wherever there was. Broken conversations. He'd been in a haze. He had been aware, yet.. Not.

Zonbi powder?

In the few moments of clarity he'd had, he would mull this over. His body had been slow, as had his thoughts. He wasn't sure if he had been drugged, or had been put under a spell. But something had kept him docile. A wise precaution, in all honesty. Had he been in his right mind, he would have slaughtered his captors already.

What snapped him out of this state was that voice. That command.

"Wake up".

Crimson orbs snapped open, slowly blinking, before they directed themselves at the person in front of him.

"Miss Dantour~ How lovely to see you." He'd speak, glancing around the room. Not even any restraints. He was in need of some thorough cleansing when they got home. By the looks of it, they didn't need to fight their way out.

Now in control of his body, he'd stand, brushing his coat off some.

"Well then.. Ann ale lakay nou~"

[wildernesstuff]

Your world I believe is without monsters, but mine certainly isn’t, even though only a few know about it. Ryan is a werewolf, so I thought I could make a post talking a bit about that!

He’s got three different forms that he can turn into mostly at will. Human form, wolf form, and lycan form.

Human

As a human, he looks pretty normal. Nothing out of the ordinary that would make it obvious he was a werewolf. Sure, his teeth are slightly longer and sharper than normal, but everybody looks a little different. He wasn’t super active when he was trapped in the lab, yet still is pretty muscular, but nobody knows about that. He does a lot of work now that we live out here as well so it’s totally normal. Mentally he’s pretty much the same, mostly just with a preference for eating meat, being more easily distractible, and other small things. Overall, not really that different from me and you.

Wolf

When in wolf form, Ryan appears as just your average grey wolf. We see a lot of those out in the forests here as well, so this is pretty normal too. You could spot him out in a pack of them though, since he is slightly taller and bigger than normal wolves, but nothing obviously unnatural. He also has slightly more warm-toned fur than most of the wolves out here, which also makes him easy to identify, but that’s just coincidence. He can still understand English as a wolf. His brain is much more dog-like in this form, but still intelligent and conscious of everything.

Lycan

Lycan, short for lycanthrope, might sound like something he should always be considered to you. While that is true, just “lycan” in my world usually refers to another type of monster. The full term, “lycanthrope” and “lycanthropy” are only used to refer to werewolves. (This isn’t all an exact science—as I’ve mentioned, most people don’t know any “monsters” exist). Lycans look like a mix between a wolf and a super tall human, able to stand and move on two legs and all fours, primarily carnivores, that kind of thing. Many werewolves are portrayed sort of like this in media. Compared to an average lycan, Ryan in this form is slightly smaller at around 8 feet tall, and has a much more human mind. He still retains the instincts of one, but much less so, and he has more control. He can still understand English and all that. This doesn’t all apply under a full moon..

Other Powers

Aside from transformation and what I’ve already mentioned, Ryan has some other abilities as well that occur in all forms. Most notably, night vision. He can see almost perfectly in the dark, just as easily as in sunlight. Despite that, he’s still able to tell when the lights are on or off. He also is always very warm. This is usually because of his dense fur in wolf & lycan form, but even as a human he can withstand freezing temperatures (which I’m incredibly jealous of—living in the woods means going outside a lot, and I can’t stand it during the winter). He can communicate with other canines, most fluently with wolves, especially so in his wolf form. They’re not as direct as humans and work very differently, so it’s not nearly the same as speaking with someone, but they can convey information back and forth pretty impressively!

As I said before, Ryan can control whenever he transforms—with some exceptions. On the full moon he tends to be forced into his lycan form. He looses a lot of his human reason and intelligence, becoming much more animalistic. It’s still kinda there, but not by much. It’s a pretty dangerous time so he usually spends full moons deep into the forest away from everyone to prevent destruction and people from getting hurt. I’ve found that addressing him by his full name can get him to turn back, or at the very least give him more control and clarity. He’s often too far away for me to witness this time, though. Full moon transformations can also be very painful, and transforming back tends to be as well, sadly. I do my best to help him when he gets back..

Back when we were in the lab, there were many days when he couldn’t transform out of lycan form as well, due to the drugs and everything used to experiment and control him. Thankfully, though, we’re away from that now. Because of this, he rarely is in his lycan form unless he doesn’t have another choice. Ryan’s also told me that he’s been forced into lycan form before a few times when he was extremely angry, but I don’t believe I’ve witnessed that. Honestly, I don’t see him get mad that much at all, especially now that we’re away from everything, so I can’t expand a whole lot on this.

Ryan has other abilities and changes due to being a werewolf, this definitely does not cover it all, but I think I’ve mentioned some of the biggest differences here. If there’s anything you’re specifically curious about, feel free to ask me (or him) on here—We’ll be sure to answer!!

[jemmo]

there’s something so beautiful, knowing what we know now about the extent of ayan’s pain and depression and grief in the aftermath of losing his uncle, about the way he so boldly and resolutely and unashamedly goes after his own happiness. bc here’s akk, this kid that so rigidly disregards his own happiness for the sake of others- this is the kid ayan falls for. it seems ridiculous, pointless even, bc what ayan needs, love and care and comfort, it’s something akk can’t readily give him. but instead of giving up, ayan pursues it; pursues happiness not just for himself, but for akk too. Sees someone hurting like him and says ‘hey, things can be better than this. you can smile and laugh and find joy; you deserve that’. it’s selfless in its selfishness. and it’s so fucking strong and admirable and incredible of someone in a dark place to not only pull themselves out, but pull out others too. and to do it with gentleness and understanding, even when he doesn’t get that in return, when all his faced with is hostility and walls and reservation, to still claim your own happiness so wholly. that’s more brave than i could ever put into words.

[hanjifuck]

.˚｡⋆ ༊ .˚｡⋆ how stray kids members handle conflicts .˚｡⋆ ༊ .˚｡⋆

.˚｡⋆ 400 followers special post.˚｡⋆

based on their birth charts! s2

✧*:.｡. t/n: not proofread.

bang chan ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

when upset, he becomes restless and would rather fly far away than engage in an emotionally frustrating confrontation. he can get angry easily and doesn't hide it. people tend to know when he's upset, he can't hide any of his feelings, positive or negative. if he needs to take part in conflict with someone, he does so through blunt and unfiltered opinions. type of person who has an opinion on everything and completely believes in his own morals. usually, he's good at getting people to see his point of view because he's so passionate about what he's talking about. he may be easily irritated or upset by the actions of others. chris almost never takes advice from others. he may have some sort of "guilt complex", tho.

lee know ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

minho has great clarity in his thoughts and actual worldview, suppressing most feelings of anger. for him, it's more common for negative emotions to come from people who don't live up to his expectations, rather than anything else. he sets standards in his mind for how people should behave, and of course people rarely meet those standards. he may be afraid to open up to others and speak up because he fears that people will use his feelings to turn against him and let negativity boil over. as a result, he may have a tendency to suppress anger and resentment, which will only lead to outbursts of intense feelings.

changbin ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

when emotions are involved, he frequently loses control of his temper and overreacts. becoming very defensive about himself, taking things personally and harboring a lot of resentment. when he fails to appropriately convey his sentiments, frustration builds. at times, he may show signs of physical discomfort due to an internal conflict between what emotionally stimulates him and what he feels ready to do. he gets frustrated when he tries to get emotional satisfaction through his will to act.

hyunjin ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

he puts himself first when making decisions and only do what makes the utmost sense to him. having a strong sense of self, he knows who he is and how he should be treated by others. when it comes to wrathfulness, he has quick meltdowns but his feelings of anger tend to subside snappily. he deals with his feelings honestly and face it directly. because he likes to live in the moment instead of in the past. he may display moments of yelling and cursing when dealing with frustrations. yet, he gets over it quickly and don't hold grudges.

han ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

he may have been subjected to some form of harsh discipline as a child (particularly by another authority figure), causing him to struggle with self-expression. no matter how hard he tries to avoid it, he's a reactor. his ego causes him to have confrontations. he despises being taken for granted or ignored. when his pride is bruised, he may be a little dramatic at times.

felix ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

a lot like jisung (twins!!!!). prob had to work really hard to develop the communication skills he has today, as he has a tendency to get lost in his feelings when upset.

seungmin ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

he's logical and practical. he's critical of himself and others, but he despises rudeness and will not go out of his way to reafirm himself. when irritated, though, it might be difficult to be with him because of his proclivity to complain about it.

i.n ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

he has a fiery mind, is opinionated, clever, and sharp-tongued. his disappointment stems from unfulfilled goals, just like minho's. when he expresses himself, he tries to be as direct as possible. innie wishes that individuals would convey their points more quickly. he never plans on searing anyone, but it could occur. when he doesn't feel understood, he might become irritable, and he has a tendency to refuse to admit when he's wrong. essentially, strives to resolve conflicts quickly and in a direct and honest manner.