#but endlessly kind

[cryptocism]

cute n silly unfinished sketch

and bonus bart:

[h3wi]

to add on:

my take is that trailblazer is talking about how the paradise that sunday wants to create by putting everyone in a dream (where they slumber to escape reality for a contrived utopia) will not last. which ties back to your point on how every instance of ena's order was ephemeral in it's "perfection".

this would contradict sunday's penchant for complete control and nihilism. in addition with the religious themes surrounding him that seem to liken him to an omnipotent god (plus the literal boss form), it reduces him, or rather reminds him that he is in fact, very human. how it is simply not within his ability (nor should it be) to be a lonesome god watching over everyone else. that no one can run away from reality forever.

it also asserts the nameless' stance on trailblazing forward regardless of potential, unavoidable suffering. that it is a natural part of human life, and does not make living any less worth it.

sunday, seems to me, like a man who is very, very kind and does not want anyone to suffer. to the point where he values that paradise over the freedom of the people as well as his own (where he is willing to shoulder all the burden like atlas with the sky on his back). the final act is them trying to convince him of my three points above.

Sunday HSR Analysis

“People often forget that when the first bird took flight, the entire world envisioned a future where… No more fledglings would ever crash to their death.”

Hsr 2.2 spoilers 👇

I think Sunday values security and safety above all. Robin tells him he doesn’t need to do everything and not relax and we also see how much he does. He’s kind of like a pastor (or preacher idk the difference) hearing ppls confessions. Sunday is definitely seen as the perfect person. A responsibile, talented, brother than handles everything. Sunday’s main internal conflict is him not being sure he’s doing the right thing. He’s trying to persuade himself that he’s just trying protect people (but mainly Robin ig). And as Aventurine’s Future says something along the lines of:

“To deceive others, you must first deceive yourself.”

I think there are multiple parallels between the two. They both value security (or a false sense of it), deceive others, and in a way, gamble. Sunday’s plan of teaming up with Ratio and getting the “aventurine” stone. His questions with the Trailblazer, Himeko, March, and Firefly were pretty risky if you ask me. And like Aventurine, has questionable ways of achieving their goals. He believes he’s doing the right, and more importantly, necessary things to keep Penacony up and running. His drive isn’t principle like he suggests at the beginning, but need.

When Welt, Sunday, and Robin talk to the Dreammaster, he speculates that they do not worship the Harmony but the Order and Sunday confirms this. He says:

“We were never the children of the Harmony… Within the foundation of law, humanity establishes civilization. And through Harmony, we obtain Order.”

This makes a lot of sense. Sunday’s truth spell doesn’t match the belief of the Harmony very well. It’s very forceful as we can see with Aventurine’s interrogation. Since we now know it’s the Order, his power matches that path perfectly. I mean, he’s a control freak like Ena the Order.

Furthermore, he keeps bringing up the bird story and it dying. When he tells Himeko, March, Firefly, and the Trailblazer the story, he asks them:

“…build a nest with a soft net where the Charmony Dove fell? Or build a cage for it, and feed it, giving it the utmost care from within the warmth of a home?”

March chooses to build a cage and protect it

Himeko chooses to build a cage and protect it

Firefly chooses to build a cage and protect it

The Trailblazer chooses to build a nest.

He then asks another question, the Trailblazer chooses the opposite of what Sunday chose.

Sunday then asked the third and final question.

“Would you still support Robin’s journey on the path of Harmony?”

The Trailblazer says yes.

Let me ask you this: How much can you blame Sunday? He wants protection, for himself and others. That’s why he follows the Order. He believes that you need force to have preace. Sunday wants to unite people under the Order.

But every planet that followed the Order shined bright but burned just as quickly.

He thinks his sister is naïve for following the Harmony and getting that bullet injury, but I would argue Sunday is just as naïve as her. None of the planets that worshipped Ena the Order succeeded in the long term. But the thing about Sunday that makes his naïveté worse than Robin’s, who is less naïve and more idealistic, is his arrogance and ignorance. Sunday is constantly reassuring himself he is a follower of the Order for the sake of Penacony and the Dreamscape.

I think Sunday’s view on humanity is pessimistic (as put in the hsr wiki) bc he detaches himself from. When he talks about, well anything in 2.2 it gives very “i’m a god and you pitiful humans are doomed.” However, he still genuinely wants to help people. I think this god-like stance is a bluff, a facade. We know from the Robin and Sunday cutscene that Sunday believes he has the be the one person that protects everyone, the person who suffers for everyone else. He has to put on a face that says “dw I got it.” Sunday thinks that he has and always will be the reliable one. He emotionally distances himself from everyone else to “see the big picture.”

When Sunday asks why does life slumber, the Trailblazer answers:

“Because someday…we will wake up from our dreams.”

This shocks Sunday. And if i’m being perfectly honest. I don’t really know exactly why. Maybe because he realizes that people (and himself) need to stop indulging into escapism.

And he replies:

“The night is still…too short…”

Sunday still wants to dream of something (or reminisce the past?). I’m not sure we gotta wait for him to be playable.

Before that Robin says:

“Even if that star… must hang in a perpetual night of solitude”

So that might also mean he thinks he deserves being alone or doing everything :((( this is a stretch tho

Robin also says:

“Brother… the weakness of humanity cannot be redeemed by others. Stop it… You want to achieve the paradise we promised but the Order is not the only choice! True happiness and the meaning life lie in defying Nihility and embracing all that life offers!”

Sunday wants to solve other peoples problems and humanity’s weakness

He might be nihilistic :((

He’s lonely :(

I love Sunday sm <333

[exhausted-undead]

drew a quick phantom thing again to break it up a little

[taxinealkaloids]

horrible children who are. so so mean to each other

[johnslittlespoon]

Tough And Sweet (Like You And Me) ♡

'Gale looks unfairly handsome in the soft golden light of the late evening, but even more unfair is the fact that John can’t just bridge the gap between them and kiss his feelings away. The more time he spends around Gale, the more it feels like he’s being consumed by his overwhelming infatuation, and there’s not a single thing he can do about it that doesn’t involve the risk of scaring the man out of his life.

So he shuts the truck door behind him after promising Gale he’ll text when he’s safe inside, and he tries not to stare too forlornly as the truck putters off down the street and rounds the corner.'

[ AO3 ]

[teefigotem]

sorry i'm on a Murderbot Diaries kick again so y'all are getting meta. thinking about that one scene in Network Effect that everyone talks about. you know, the “who the fuck are you” “this is nonstandard communication” aka the one where Three discovers the concept of eldritch horror for the first time. beautiful scene 10/10 no notes.

that being said i’m also thinking about a take i’ve seen a few times saying that ART was way scarier to Three than it was to Murderbot and like. I don’t think that’s completely true. not to say that ART wasn’t mean or scary to Three — being told that someone might peel away your organic parts piece by piece will in fact be terrifying any way you spin in.

but like. okay. ART and Three come to an understanding very quickly in NE, arguably quicker than Murderbot and ART in AC. and some of that is due to the difference in Murderbot and Three’s personalities, but i think a lot of that is due to how ART approaches each situation.

(more under the cut)

so like okay. when ART and Murderbot first meet, Murderbot is entirely a wildcard coming aboard ART, and ART responds the way you would to an unknown, unpredictable threat, i.e. with a blatant but somewhat ambiguous show of force. by dropping its walls ART is doing the equivalent of like. brandishing a powerful weapon in your face. it doesn't explicitly tell Murderbot that it will hurt it. in fact, the only things it says to Murderbot are to tell it that it knows that it's a rogue SecUnit and to warn Murderbot not to hack it. this is the type of approach you'd take with someone who you aren't sure even has the capacity to be reasoned with - it demonstrates that it could crush Murderbot like a bug, because this is the only thing it's confident Murderbot will respond to.

the problem with this, from Murderbot's POV, is that, because the threat is implied rather than explicitly stated, there's no reassurance that if Murderbot doesn't try to hack ART then ART will leave it alone in turn. in fact, it spends the moments after this interaction spiraling about what ART wants with it and whether ART specifically let it on board to torture or kill it. i don't think that was ART's intention with the threat, i think it genuinely did not have the context to realize that Murderbot would take the show of force more as a threat of imminent violence than as a warning against attacking it. but, since it didn't have that context, it approached that interaction like one would approach someone with whom you don't see as an equal and don't have any interest in reasoning with.

contrast that to how ART interacts with Three. on the surface, what it says is scarier. its threats are certainly more violent. but they are also explicitly stated if/then statements: if you hurt these humans, then i will do xyz to you. i do know that in mathematical logic there's still no guarantee made in if/then statements that the then won't come to pass regardless, but the specificity of both the threat and the guidelines provides Three with parameters to follow, and implies that if it does then no harm will come to it.

this was notable to me because ART speaks to Three like a person to be negotiated with from the beginning, and that's. well. because it knows enough by now to know that Three is a person, in a way that i'm not sure it knew about Murderbot before seeing Murderbot's memory files of the governor module. it knows before speaking to them that both Murderbot and Three are rogue SecUnits, but its understanding of what a rogue SecUnit is, what it is capable of, and what it might do has profoundly changed between two interactions. even in their first interaction ART treats Three like a person who may be capable of being dangerous, rather than like a loose cannon who could mindlessly commit violence at any minute.

[justpentdraws]

of all the things in my sketchbook that people told me looked very cool, i never posted this pic of mordred. have it

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[iraprince]

if u like listening to music while u work but find urself getting distracted fiddling with queueing stuff/finding The Perfect Playlist/etc my recent hack has been just throwing on youtube videos of dj sets

book club radio is a good channel to start w bc they usually have the overall Vibe of the set in the title (i.e. "dreamy pop mix", "energetic techno mix" etc) so u can pick the general tempo or w/e u want but then it just kind of blends into the bg and u can set it + forget it

any time i put my own playlists on i'm just too familiar w what could be coming up and i end up wasting so much time skipping/scrolling 2 look for specific songs and stuff. dj sets are like putting a post-op doggy cone on me. it;'s out of my hands

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’m obsessed with the idea of cult leader!geto pining for a reader who just fucking hates him. i don’t know why just. maybe it’s someone from his past that he left behind when he defected, maybe they’re bitter and spiteful and all they do is hiss and bite but he’s so smitten. you can do no wrong in his eyes. he deserves the curses and anger, he knows, and he receives them with a smile and eyes full of hearts. he gets giddy when you scowl at him. he just thinks you’re love personified. he’s so gentle and patient that it’s infuriating because nothing you do or say will get him to bite back. it’s like you’re a kitten gnawing at his fist but he does nothing but coo at you even when you draw blood

[eddis-not-eeddis]

In my early twenties I know more theology than most men in the churches I've attended who are twice my age. This isn't a boast, I am no scholar. I say this in abject horror and despair.

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

family visit 🏝️

(ghosts can be haunted too)

[Scala script translation in alt text]

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

don't mind me, i'm just thinking about the studio brussel interview photos yet again 🫠

[natjennie]

when robin is listing herbs and casually drops deadly nightshade and pat cap julian and thomas all go "deadly nightshade?!" like a cartoon.... I love you ghosts.

[naamahdarling]

When I was very small and I didn't feel good, my mom used to make up stories to tell me. Books were nice but didn't tell me the things I wanted to know about most. I didn't get to explore them unless it was in my own imagination. And that's fun, but being told stories is better in a lot of ways. So I would ask her to tell me stories about Peter Rabbit or Robin Hood, or any other character I really loved. I would tell her what I wanted the story to be about, and she would make it up, and I could stop her anytime and ask her for more details, or to change something. I'm sure this was occasionally frustrating for her, but it's something I really enjoyed. I think it was probably part of what made me want to become a writer.

I don't feel good tonight. I'm too drained to read. Audiobooks aren't the same as somebody sitting with me and telling me a story.

I don't wish for my mom to be around very often, and I'm not really wishing for that now. But I do wish I had somebody to sit with me and be kind and make up stories for me until I feel well enough to get up and do it for myself.

[johnslittlespoon]

hii happy pride month, have a little 'you're a dog (i'm your man)' chapter four snippet as an apology for radio silence <33

“Did I wake you?” Gale asks, glancing at John apologetically, but John looks up from his effort to avoid muddy puddles to shake his head. Gale supposes it’s a silly question; John sleeps like a rock, dead to disturbances made by anything other than his own brain.

“Just my sixth sense,” John says, shrugging and shooting him a small smile. Gale snorts.

“You got a radar for me?” He teases, and John smiles wider, eyes crinkling.

“Built in,” he answers matter–of–factly, raising a hand and making a fist over the center of his chest before dropping it, returning his vigilant gaze to the uneven ground. Gale stares for a moment longer, floored not for the first time by John’s apparent obliviousness to the weight of his sentimentality.

Even knowing John how he does, it’s always unexpected coming from someone who a stranger might assume to be brazen and surface–level; John’s loud mouth and wandering hands do him no favours in that regard.

But Gale does know John, like an extension of himself half the time, and still he manages to render him speechless. The way his heart flutters as the sentiment hangs in the air makes Gale want to reach down his throat and squeeze it until it never beats again.