#but otherwise i mostly remember the process... i think.

[ssspringroll]

did i ever tell you guys i 3d printed Waay'los

this picture is ancient (1 or 2 phones ago) i tried to find him to take an updated picture but hes MISSING ;-;

but i plan on re-printing him. maybe even doing another pose. maybe even subdividing his legs a little so they arent so damn polygonal

[kleefkruid]

Guys, I had one of the weirdest 15 minutes of my life yesterday, as if some higher power put me in a jar and shook me around for a very short time and then let me out again.

But before I can tell the story I need to quickly make sure everyone has the context: Kotelet, the stray I took in had 2 bigger kittens and was super pregnant. These are the cutlets 1.0 and 2.0, you’ve mostly seen the second gen as they were born with me. But the two initial kittens went to Danny. They were very wild and we tried to socialize them, but in the process unfortunately one of them got out and was lost forever. This was way back in the beginning of August. The other kitten became Dietzel and recently Danny adopted one of the 2.0 gen to keep him company since we sadly never found the other kitten again… Okay keeping that in mind I can tell my story.

Yesterday around 2 I left my house to go to Danny. While waiting for my tram I was texting someone who is coming to adopt the last kitten. This combined with the nose cold I’ve been having made me a bit inattentive, and I got on the wrong tram. Not too big of a problem, bc this tram also travels close by Danny, I just had to walk one kilometer. A 15 minute walk. What could happen in that time right, I’ve done this route so often.

I get of the tram and I cross a bigger intersection. Open sky above me, as is typical for an intersection. Light goes green, I’m on the crosswalk. Suddenly, and with a loud slap, a pigeon drops dead on the ground in front of me.

I look at the pigeon. I look at the clear sky. I look back at the pigeon. I look back up. I notice the cables of the tram that go over the crosswalk, and realize it must have flown into the cables, and was killed by electrocution. At least it died instantly. Not a bad way to go for a pigeon. One moment it was going “weeeh I’m a bird”, next thing the lights went out.

The crosswalk light had turned red. Normally this would be immediately be followed by irritated honking, but as I make eye contact with the driver perpendicular to me, he also points at the cables and we exchange some “crazy right??” looks while I hurry to the side of the road.

“What’s it called again when people tell fortune by looking at birds?” I think, (it’s Ornithomancy) “the ancients Greeks did it, I remember it from the Odyssey… sure hope it’s not a bad omen!” I imagine a Greek augur predicting a war or whatever when a bird drops straight from the sky and someone going “is that bad?” I chuckle to myself, just a tiny bit nervous, and I continue my walk. Not long to go now.

“Pigeon dropped dead in front of me” I triple text Danny “Crazy. Electrocuted by the tram infrastructure. Super dead in an instance.”

A neighborhood cat cheerfully walks by me. I automatically lean down to pet it, can’t cross a friendly cat without saying hi! It’s a teenage tuxedo.

WAIT.

The cat looks at me. It has a little white moustache. It starts sniffing my boots like crazy.

Could it be…

Squatting on the sidewalk, I go in my pictures folder and frantically search for pictures of the cutlets 1.0 The cat leans against me. I find a picture where the kitten has a distinctive black mark on the back of its otherwise white socks. I stare down.

On the back of its legs it has a distinctive black mark.

“You got to be kidding me” I say. “Sniff sniff” says the cat. He headbutts me again.

I am 350 meters from Danny’s door. Obviously I don’t have anything with me. A car drives close by. I gotta do something, so I pick him up. And he lets me. And I just start walking.

After a 100 meters, he wants to go down again, so holding him in a sitting position, I grasp his hind legs with one hand, like they hold wild birds when ringing them, and my other arm goes across him to squeeze him against my chest and I hold his front paws. He meows a little and bites me so very lightly. He just kinda presses his teeth against my skin to communicate he’s not impressed by my action, but that’s all. He’s still pretty tiny after all.

I ring the doorbell, and Danny buzzes me in. “Bring a carrier!” I yell trough the speaker. “What?? Why??” “Just come down!”

He opens te door and looks confused. “Is that Kotelet??” is his first question, as they look alike. “No, try again” I say. Now Danny’s eyes go wide. “No. It’s not possible…”

It’s been more than 3 months. Danny just starts crying out of shock. I start laughing. Both losing it in different ways about the absurdity of the situation.

We’re in Danny’s living room. The little guy is eating all the wet food he can and promptly passes out. We just stare at him. The other cats are peeking in from the bedroom. I look at its white paws, all grey from the street. He purrs. We sit in silence, kind of forgetting to blink.

“Did you see my text about the pigeon that dropped dead in front of me.”

[teojira]

Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏

[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]

Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.

Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)

Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)

A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.

Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.

I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.

Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.

You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.

Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)

It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.

So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.

Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.

You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.

Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.

You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.

It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.

All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.

You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.

"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.

He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.

You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.

You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.

Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.

It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.

Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)

"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."

He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.

Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.

Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.

When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.

When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.

He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.

This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.

Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.

When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.

It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.

Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠ���ʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[paper-mario-wiki]

Hey how do you cook chicken so often. It's always a huge fucking hassle to me to prep and cook chicken and it's so expensive I usually don't bother. Is there some trick you know for making it easy?

the answer's a lot more simple than ya think. i just have a huge bag of chicken breasts in the freezer. dont remember PRECISELY how much it was, pretty sure under $25 for 10 pounds at costco, and it'll last you several weeks when cooking for one.

the only real "prep" for making it easier is, when i don't have any chicken thawed in the fridge, i take some out of the freezer and put it into a plastic bag in the fridge. then, by the next day, ive got chicken that can be cooked and eaten up in 10 minutes. while still raw, it'll stay good for 2 days refrigerated, and up to 4 if you're stupid.

the breasts are actually a little bigger than i'd like when cooking just for myself, so while they're still frozen i find their middle and split them in half on the hard corner of my kitchen counter.

before seasoning, pat down the breast with a paper towel to get excess moisture off. it'll cook more evenly and make seasoning stick easier. i only use salt and pepper before cooking because im lazy and spiceless (poor), but you can definitely use herbs and whatnot when cooking. also smash down some of the thicker bits of the meat with the bottom of a cup or a mallet if you've got one. as long as the breast isn't thicker than, say, the width of your index finger, it'll cook through very easily, mostly in its own juices. otherwise you'll have a harder time cooking it evenly, though it can still be done. it just takes longer and might not look as nice.

pan-frying is as easy as putting in a splash of olive oil (not a ton, just enough for the breast to rest in), and cooking for 5 to 7 minutes on both sides, depending on how brown you want it. this is on medium-high heat, so i set my stove's little heat dial to 6 or 7.

for reference, the meal i made today (chicken breast, hashbrown, fried kale) was prepared in about 15ish minutes, including prepping the chicken and getting it on the pan, which was done first cuz it takes the longest to cook. the hashbrowns cooked on the far side of the pan away from the chicken, and the kale in my air fryer for 3 minutes. the chicken came off the pan first, and i let it rest for a few minutes while i let the hashbrowns finish cooking.

it sounds like a lotta work, but sincerely the most tedious thing about cooking with chicken is thawing it out, so having a few single-person servings of chicken in the fridge makes the whole process much simpler.

make sure that you're wiping down surfaces and utensils that the chicken touches while still raw, and try not to let any of the other foods at all. salmonella is easily avoidable, but still no joke.

[gam3-b01]

winter

pairing(s): jeon wonwoo x reader

genre(s): angst

wc: ~1.3k

warnings: suggestive content (hankypanky related activities), just sad hours in general, minors dni just to be safe

(a/n: my first post on this blog, this was one of my earliest drafts and i needed to get it out of my system ahahsjdnd. the way some people might know who i am because i used the term hanky panky is concerning but also hilarious, if you see this i love you bro sorry for angst hours i stayed up too late to make sane decisions sorry i had to. song inspo for this fic is winter by two feet)

It's not a thing, right? This hasn't happened before.

But the familiarity with which you look up at him from under the covers slaps Wonwoo in the face before he has the time to process the content haziness clouding your eyes. His tense frame relaxes involuntarily, and he slips in beside you but not before checking your bare skin for any bruises he might have accidently left after almost soldering you to the mattress barely ten minutes ago. As he slips an arm around your middle and you tell him without any kindness whatsoever that his hands are way too cold for you (and that he should probably get checked for anaemia because, and he quotes, "even hell freezing over generates more fucking warmth than you do"), he realises he has to stop lying to himself and acknowledge the fact that realistically, this has actually definitely happened before.

This exact night, every single frame of it, happened last year. And the year before that. And the year before that one? No, the both of you were still together back then. Probably. What year was three years ago? Time was always a muddy, comically abstract concept when it came to each other for the both of you.

Maybe it would be easier for him to count the years winter to winter. Because when Wonwoo visits his hometown at the beginning of every December, a series of events occur. He sets his bags down at his place and spends the first week in radio silence recuperating with his family, ignoring the 20 odd messages he gets from Mingyu about his dog and updates (read: gossip) from their shared workplace. The next week usually is spent catching up with old friends mostly out of obligation, and the third week is occupied by Christmas. The fourth-ish week is when all of his friends asking about you begins to get to his head. By around the 28th of December, he's sick of lying awake in his childhood bed, staring at the ceiling as he tries to forget things that should never have happened in the first place. Eventually he sits up, runs a hand through his hair, puts on his glasses, and spritzes on something that you liked to call "sandalwood crack" before shrugging on his jacket and heading out.

Where to though? He pretends to think for a while before giving up. And when he steps into the bar after paying for his cab, he is never, ever surprised or secretly relieved when he spots you sitting in the stool furthest away from the air conditioning. You look wasted, but the soda cans strewn about you indicate otherwise. You've stopped drinking after the breakup. You're doing well with sobriety. He opens with that like the asshole he is, and you have the decency to cuss at him like a sailor and pass him a stool as you say something vaguely self-depreciating as a joke about the near-alcoholism you contracted back then. He opts for silence. And you ask him to take it easy despite him having opened the fire. Ever tolerant. Like the gentle undercurrents of a river (not like you didn't have a temper on you, you just tended to be nice when you saw him after long periods of time. Was it because you missed him? The mere thought had him shrivelling up a little inside). Wasn't he supposed to be the water sign between you both? He remembers the natal chart phase you had when you were nineteen, which reminds him you were his best friend of nine years before the both of you stopped talking. He expertly shoves that piece of information away before it tries to hurt him one more time.

(...What kind of best friend asks, no, begs him to leave and never contact them again? Maybe the kind whose best friend actually proceeded to do exactly that without ever putting up a fight? Fuck.)

Things somehow, without fail, end up leading you both to the nearest motel when one of you ends up saying something incredibly reckless and all the other person can do is gape hopelessly, words murdered in cold blood right when they were about to be bailed out from their throat. The rest of a night is a senseless, irresponsible blur, and then?

The rough part begins.

One of you is going to leave in the next thirty minutes if Wonwoo's doing his gut arithmetic right. He wished he sucked at math sometimes, he really did.

However, he blinks a bit. Something feels off, something feels different. You're not leaving (is it his turn this time..?). Instead, you're turning around, eyes vulnerable and still blown a little wide as you touch his hair with a flavour of fondness he could not imitate even if he tried his damndest to.

He freezes for only a second before his lips seek yours out of habit. He truly loathes the way he groans at how much it affects him, but what else is he supposed to do when he knows you're trying to hold back that little sound you make when you get desperate for him? He's almost willing to let you take the lead because he feels like his system is going into overdrive, willing to let you finally ruin whatever's left of him, but sanity prevails by a hanging thread as he takes back control from you with a firm hand on your jaw. His grip is gentle unlike earlier, and despite knowing you like it when he's mean to you, his eyes shine with something completely different when he breaks the kiss for a moment to take in everything he can about you right now and burn this anomaly into his memory.

(Because what else will he be ever be able to think of on every single cold, miserable night for many years to come after that look you gave him before he kissed you? That look that made it look like you still loved him, why did you have to do that?)

You're staring at him like you've been burned, and he's trying his absolute best not to flinch away when he sees raw, unabashed hurt begin to filter through your soft irises.

"Don't look at me like that." You start.

"Like what?"

"Like you-", you gulp nervously, eyes quickly losing the content sheen radiating off of you earlier.

"-like you actually want me or something."

Externally, the tenderness in his eyes is instantly replaced by whatever the fuck he usually looks like, but internally, he's trying his best not to scream. Your words are unfair, cruel even. How can the one person who knows him like the back of their hand not grasp the one fundamental truth that makes up his very core?

The alarm system inside his head built just for you tells him you feel sick, just like he does. He knows you've gleaned that much as well, and makes no effort to stop you as you slip out of the bed with the sheets hugging your chest in one fluid motion.

"I feel so sick, Wonwoo."

"I know."

Your heart is as tangled up as his is, and no matter how many times the both of you manage to land into each other's arms, neither of you seem to be capable of unravelling the other without tearing everything apart.

He watches you collect yourself before turning to him, face stone cold, with eyes that now look foreign to him as you deliver the parthian shot.

"I think that I should go."

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi! Could I request full HCs for MC getting in trouble/arrested for something they didn't do, but nobody believes them? Eventually they're proven innocent but maybe even the M6 might have a little flicker of doubt for a moment?

The Arcana HCs: MC gets falsely arrested

Julian

If you've ever worried that he can't relate to you in the past, he certainly can now! He's been in handcuffs plenty of times -

On a more serious note, he's not giving up on you for a second. Every moment that he's allowed to be by your side, he's there, and he's taking the best care of you that he possibly can

He doesn't doubt you for a second (he remembers what it was like) but he does doubt himself

What if this is secretly his fault? What if he did something he doesn't remember doing, and you got mistaken for him? What if he made someone angry so they framed you to get back at him?

Will suggest lying to take your place multiple times and might actually try it if you and Portia don't stop him

Might also suggest actually committing some kind of legal infraction of his own so he can at least join you in there

So relieved when you're acquitted that it's all he can talk about to everyone he meets for the next two months. Rubs it in the face of every friend who ever doubted you

Asra

They're annoyed, more than anything. And shocked. But mostly annoyed

Not at you, of course! No, he's annoyed at the fact that you're being confined somewhere that he can't be for you and that you're being treated so poorly

When you tell them the charges against you aren't true, they believe you completely, but truthfully they're less concerned with your innocence and more concerned with your wellbeing

Can and will attempt to break you out regardless

Would much rather blip you out of where you're being held and start a completely new life from scratch somewhere else then let the process drag on and on, watching you be silenced and doubted

Never misses a single visit

Never lets you feel like things are out of control. As long as you want to subject yourself to this, it's your decision, and as soon as you choose otherwise, say the word and you're both out

Immeasurably proud of you when you stick it out and are acquitted

Nadia

Furious. Absolutely furious. Seething with rage

A person of your character? Who holds the trust of the Countess herself and the admiration of the city?? Accused so recklessly???

Absolutely unacceptable

That said, she remains completely calm on the outside and allows things to proceed. She's been a fierce advocate of establishing a new, effective justice system, and she intends to see this through

Does her best not to extend her influence far enough to count as making the process unfair, but still ensures she gets to visit you at least once a day

There is a point as the evidence is assembled that she does find herself wondering, for a brief moment, if you really are guilty. If you forgot, if there were extenuating circumstances you can't tell her

And she hates herself for it as soon as she sees your face again

So smug when you're exonerated that the people who argued against you nearly make a run for the hills

Will make a point of publicly proclaiming your innocence after

Muriel

Triggered. Triggered. So. Very. Triggered

Hadn't heard anything about the incident itself until you were arrested, so he didn't know what to think until you told him you were innocent. Once you did, though, he believed you

He knows when someone's lying and when someone's telling the truth, and he needs to make sure that others can see your honesty

He also knows that he's not the person best suited to publicly helping you. Regardless of his circumstances, he has his own history in the cells that still make his stomach turn to walk past

He'll talk to Asra. He'll talk to Nadia. He'll put himself through hours of conversation with them and whoever else is determined to exonerate you, supplying every detail he has

And he'll brave the personal hell of seeing you live out the daily misery of his worst memories, behind the same bars, staring at the same stone walls, to be with you as the hours drag by

Beyond relieved when you (and he by extension) are freed and he can hide away in the woods with you to recover

Portia

She actually assumed the charges were true until you told her otherwise - you're her partner in crime for life, she's just wondering what pieces are missing to justify you and why she wasn't included

Until you tell her you're innocent, and she's furious

There is NO WAY you're getting falsely imprisoned on her watch. She will march to hell and back and drag whoever she needs to with her to get you out

Pushes nonstop both to have you acquitted and to sway public opinion about you. It feels like a hopeless task at first, but she doesn't give up and she has enough friends to pull it off

Might miss a visit or two, but never goes longer than a day without stopping to see you and always smuggles treats and comforts past the guards for you no matter how often you tell her not to

Actually manages to stage an impressive protest in your favor the day the decision is made

Takes you home and dotes on you nonstop afterwards ... and then victory marches you all around town to thank the helpful friends

Lucio

He tries to help you. He really, really does

He argues with the guards, screams at the people who sent for you to be arrested, and makes the racket of a lifetime

Which, unfortunately, only makes things worse

(Neither does him admitting to all of his own criminal history, in his attempt to argue that if he got forgiveness then you should too)

He's relieved when you tell him you didn't do it, and he clings to that belief like his life depends on it. You're the good thing in his life. Nobody takes away or denies him that good thing

All that pent up frustration needs an outlet of some kind, and that results in him hounding the assigned investigators instead into letting him help them

And help them he does - not with the books and papers, but with long nights and rabbit trails until the true culprit is found

One can imagine how proud he was to drag them by the collar to where you were, shaking the confession out of them and leaving with you. He deserves so many kisses and cookies for this -

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap ZombieCleo, 6-23-24

((Did I jump the queue with this one and stay up especially late finishing it specifically because DocM77 asked on Twitter for someone to go over the stream with a fine-toothed comb and give him the salient details? MAYBE. I just hope I can figure out a way to get it to him so he sees it. Anyway, it's stupidly late, have a stream recap in which Scar's audio is a main character that never appears.))

0:00 Cleo opens the stream on the Hermitcraft server. She greets the False raiders and the chatters who were already here, even as she types to False in the game chat. She asks False if she is tired, False replies that she is boiling. Cleo suggests living in Scotland, where it is cool in both a literal and metaphorical sense. Cleo asks Chat if they are good. She herself thinks Chat is great because they are here. Cleo does not know if False shows appreciation for her chat enough, but promises that False does really appreciate them, probably. Chat appreciates False. Ren enters the server and gets an OMG HI from Cleo in chat. Cleo and Ren agree they need to play Plate Up again soon. Cleo will also drag False along on this Plate Up adventure, whether she wants to or not.

3:00 A chatter plays hydration check, so Cleo takes a drink and gives chat a bonus posture check as well. A chatter asks which is Cleo’s favorite punctuation mark. Cleo says it is the interrobang (‽) because it is great. The plan for today is to try and do some planning with Chat’s help, because Chat is smart and Cleo hasn’t got a plan. Cleo is also very concerned that Chat engage in self-care activities. They go full-screen vtuber to lead a mini stretching session and tell Chat they are important and loved.

5:10 The plan-planning process requires some signs. Cleo goes to get some while talking about how nice it is to live in Scotland where it’s not so hot. They thank subs and donos and try to make heart-hands after a nice message, but realize they have not put on their hand sensors. Maybe later for that. A chatter plays the Hotdogs On Your Face song. Mrs. Tango raids into the stream. Cleo goes full-screen again to welcome the raiders and give them the same niceness and self-care message. Cleo is feeling especially nurturing today and Chat is vibing with it.

8:20 Cleo stares at the sign she was about to place down and write the plan on, but she has forgotten it. She thanks subs and donos instead and remembers the plan. The plan is to plan out the city and mark places for Shrubberies, which must be pronounced in Knights that Say Ni fashion ((a reference to the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)), and other important landmarks. NJCoffeeJunkie raids in, but Cleo’s not doing the nurturing thing a third time in ten minutes. A chatter plays sour jelly bean.

10:30 Cameron, Cleo’s lead mod and partner, raids in. Cleo gives in and gives the full-screen nurturing self-care speech again. Cleo finally writes “Granery Food Storage” on the sign, declaring that she is not a teacher anymore and doesn’t need to spell. She shares the plan for the granary building and says hi to Scar in game chat. More thanks to subs and donos. A chatter suggests Scar has a power beyond this world, Cleo wouldn’t go that far but does agree that Scar is pretty dangerous. ((In Season 9, Joe Hills made it a point to greet Scar whenever he logged on, because otherwise Scar had a tendency to drop by his build and murder him. This may have had a lasting effect on Hermit behavior patterns.)) Cleo has a video coming out tomorrow that also involves Skizz and Joel, and it’s going to be fun.

14:20 Cleo shows off how they have spawn-proofed their front lawn area, mostly using glow lichen, which they insist must be pronounced with a short I sound, as in “finger-lickin’” because otherwise it sounds stupid. A chatter announces they came out to their parents and shouts out the gays. Cleo shouts out the gays, lesbians and all other groups and wishes everyone happy pride. They trail off when they realize that Ren has made a stone… “upside-down T” in one of the marked-off building squares. Cleo takes down the definitely-only-an-upside-down-T and replaces it with a sign declaring it the medical tent/emergency room area. Chat is not sure it was just a T. Cleo marks another square for Delivery of Supplies, right in front of the mailbox.

17:00 Cleo makes a big square for the Tavern, which will also be the town meeting hall. When the drama happens (and she doesn’t mean Theatre Kid Ren), they can come in here and plan. Cleo thinks about what else is needed. A boat dock maybe. Chat agrees that if D&D has taught them anything, it is that a tavern is the best place to make plans. Cleo agrees. Chat also suggests an armory. During this time, Cleo also seems to perceive that it is evening and tries to sleep. It does not work. Eventually Cleo realizes it is still daytime and is a bit confused. Chat suggests that night is an illusion. Cleo thinks about the best place to put an armory without blocking the sight lines of the little town. Chat suggests a school as well, but a town on a war footing does not need a school. She sketches out an armory and puts up a sign for where the docks will be.

22:50 Cleo starts trying to sleep again. She taps the bed for about 25 seconds before finally being allowed to sleep. A kitchen tent might be good on the hill, so that gets sketched out as well. A retaining wall for the hill will probably show up at some point. A chatter asks what era the village is supposed to be, Cleo says it’s going to be Magipunk. There will be motorbikes and magic robots. There might be some ruins as well. A chatter asks about the pile of Ren and False heads in the middle of the build area, Cleo says that’s Ren and False being Ren and False. A chatter suggests adding a watchtower, but that would be on top of the hill and Cleo has other plans for that area.

28:30 A chatter says that Scar needs help. Cleo says that if Scar needs help, Scar can ask for help. It is not polite to go into other peoples’ streams and ask for help for other people. Chat suggests a junkyard or scrap heap, but Cleo thinks this community is very into recycling and mending because they haven’t got much stuff. There will be a bunch of barracks tents, those get squares. Cleo needs one more big building. Chat makes a lot of suggestions. Cleo has run out of yellow wool to make plan squares with. They head to the shopping district.

31:40 Cleo hits up Wool Street and buys four stacks of yellow wool, then goes home. Wool Street does not have an ender chest, a clear violation of the Cub Rule, but Cleo pays anyway. Chat is becoming extremely distracted by whatever is happening in Scar’s stream, to the point where Cleo’s mod bans the word “Scar” temporarily. If Scar needs help, Cleo reiterates, Scar can speak to her himself. ((If this were a video recap, there would be a smash cut here to Scar’s stream, where his profound audio issues are currently causing everything he says to turn into an unbearable auditory hellscape until he is reduced to pantomime and beatboxing just to interact with his Chat. But Cleo has no way of knowing this.))

34:10 Chat finally comes up with the good suggestion of a campfire area in the center of town. Cleo agrees with this and decides a longhouse to go with it will do the trick. They begin sketching it out when Scar puts “cLEO!” “where are yyou?” into the chat. Cleo tells him they are at their base. Chat is extremely riled up by now, telling Cleo to run, to escape, pain is coming, prepare your ears. Cameron has caught wind of what is actually happening and tells Cleo it’s not good. Cleo does not know why they should be expected to run from Scar.

35:30 Scar approaches on foot, wearing his Poe Poe skin and hat. He doesn’t say anything. Cleo says hi to him several times. He continues not to say anything. Cameron lets Cleo know that Scar’s mic is looping all desktop audio. Cleo tells Scar that he’s wonderful and she wants him to know that, but the whole no-sound thing is actually extra-creepy. She suggests that she could make things much worse by going and getting her horns.

36:30 Ren flies in, playing one of his own horns. He is clearly well-informed about the situation and intends to make it as terrible as possible. “Burning in my ears,” he sings, “the mic is echoing! It is absolutely pain, in the earholes!” Scar flies away. Cleo admits she can’t hear Scar at all, but the song has her laughing. Ren says that he and his stream are watching Scar’s stream and it is _wild._ Cleo’s Chat is in emoji-only time out right now because talking about other streams is both against the rules and all anybody wants to do. Scar flies back to the waiting pair and Ren immediately begins chanting the beginning of “My Name Is” but he doesn’t actually know the words and mostly improvises. Cleo congratulates Scar on getting her stream put into emote-only. Scar does not respond ((partly because everything Cleo says is being shredded into the nonsense avalanche of sound looping on Scar’s stream and partially because Scar also hasn’t figured out how to unmute his mic in his current OBS configuration)). Scar flies away again.

38:00 Ren and Cleo discuss the wildness of the current situation. Cameron knows what is wrong with Scar’s audio equipment, but there’s nothing they can actually do. It’s not as though they can reach through the computer and get into Scar’s audio equipment. Scar flies back, having successfully unmuted at least, and yells at them to help him. Cleo reiterates that they can’t, while Ren begins beatboxing. Cleo tells Scar he needs to reboot, but there is no way that is getting through overtop the terrible audio mess that Ren is creating. “If I say something I just echo!” Scar yells. “Echo, echo, echo!” Ren starts beatboxing again, because he is terrible. Scar flies away again. Cleo tells Ren he is mean. Funny, but mean. They are both laughing pretty hard.

40:10 In the spirit of attempting to actually be helpful, Cleo begins writing Cam’s suggestion about the problem into game chat, but is interrupted by Scar flying back while singing “Have you heard the take of Mr. Kirkland and his four-pound pie?” Ren adds backup vocals. Cleo is trying really hard to impart some actual information but it is totally buried under the audio barrage that is completely inaudible on this stream. Cleo tells Scar that he is the best, he has completely derailed everything. That isn’t bad, it’s just funny. Cleo spends a lot of streams just listening to Scar.

41:50 Ren apparently closes or mutes Scar’s stream and heaves a sigh, saying he really feels like he’s been somewhere else. Cleo bets Scar wishes he were somewhere else. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Cleo says the funniest part is when Scar unmutes suddenly to say something. Ren begins playing his guitar over his mic. “It’s getting WORSE!” Scar yells suddenly and flies away again. “You’re a mean, mean man,” Cleo tells Ren. The two of them agree that this is pretty satisfying karma for all the trolling Scar has ever done to them. Cleo shows off some of the planning they have been doing with all the wool squares. Ren looks at the 3x3 square marked off for a tent and suggests dubiously that it is a small space for a tent. Cleo assures him it’ll be fine, it’ll be made out of pants. It takes Ren a minute for figure out that the tent will be an armor stand sculpture, not a build. He thinks it’s cool.

44:30 Scar returns once more! Ren and Cleo sing to him. He flies away again. Ren turns on the stream and reports that the audio is definitely not fixed. He tells Cleo that when Scar comes back, they need to hit him with some Bohemian Rhapsody. Cleo agrees, so long as Ren handles the high parts. Ren wants to do the low parts. They practice. Cleo does have a little uncertainty on the high notes and neither of them are sure of the words, but they do a credible job. Chat is very enthusiastic about it.

46:00 Scar comes back again. His audio is still not fixed. Ren and Cleo sing to him. Chat speculates on how many horns could be made just from the shenanigans of the past thirty minutes. They forget the words and jump ahead to the “MAMAAAA” portion. Cleo decides to actually be helpful and tabs out to start sending information and screenshots from Cameron to Scar that might help fix his problem. While Cleo is tabbed out, there is no visual indicator like a menu screen but the game does freeze, leading to the strange phenomenon of Scar audibly being killed by a drowned, complete with hitting and screaming, while appearing completely fine and motionless onscreen. Chat is confused.

47:30 Cleo tabs back into the game to find the drowned attacking them now. They scold it for being on land and kill it, then survey the bits and piece Scar left scattered around as Ren tries in vain to describe the complete audio chaos that is Scar’s stream. Cleo spots Scar’s _enormous_ Poe Poe hat and starts laughing. Neither of them have any inventory space to pick up any of the scattered belongings. Ren makes a chest and does his best while thinking about other songs that he can loop into Scar’s audio purgatory. He asks Cleo if she knows a song that he describes completely as “Dadadadada, dadadadadada.” Cleo does know it enough to dadada along. ((Chat identifies the song as Sandstorm, by Darude.)) He collects up the Poe Poe hat and puts it on. The effect is striking, especially considering that his skin already has glasses. Cleo is impressed. She tells Ren she’s never said this to anyone before, but he should be a member of the Poe Poe.

49:50 Scar returns, naked but for his spare wings. He asks timorously if he can have his things. It seems possible for a moment that Scar’s audio issues are corrected, but no luck. Ren throws back all of Scar’s items, then absolutely engulfs him in the monstrous entity that is the Poe Poe hat. Cleo dissolves in laughter again. Ren starts in with Sandstorm. Cleo tells Scar that she doesn’t mind if he kills Scar. Scar says Ren might have his axe. Ren does, and throws it back while still “dadadadadada”-ing. Scar sets off several flight rockets, apparently just to add to the chaos Cleo cannot hear. Cleo tells Scar he is awesome, but whatever he is going through, she cannot relate. It is funny that Ren is being the menace right now, she says, because usually that’s Scar’s job. There’s a moment of silence, then Cleo asks Ren how long he thinks it’ll be before Scar mutes them. “Let’s keep complimenting me,” Scar suggests instead. “I like that part.” Ren starts playing guitar again. In chat, Cameron is clearly itching for a way to actually reach through the computer and fix Scar’s audio equipment.

51:50 Scar thinks he’s figured something out. He’s only getting one echo now, which is a big improvement from the four or five he’s been hearing. Cleo asks if Scar’s done the troubleshooting Cam suggested. Scar says he tried, but he’s not seeing any of the stuff Cam said he should see. Ren whispers to his Chat that he thinks they muted him. Cleo says they did not, they’re just ignoring him. Cleo reminds him that they are trying to be nice to Scar, which is quite difficult. Ren doesn’t know anything about that, he is trying to make loop tracks.

52:20 “Oh, like this is your Woodstock,” Cleo realizes. Ren agrees. “What about wood?” Scar asks. Cleo sighs and asks why Scar is like this, but Scar has clearly gotten an immediate dose of karma in the form of an innuendo that will not stop looping in his audio feed. He regrets everything. Cleo asks with some disbelief if he actually understands what he just said. Scar says he does because it won’t stop repeating in his ears. If he hears one more thing about wood he’ll go crazy! Cleo has had an epiphany. Could this be Scar’s conscience, a force that simply repeats the exact things he says back to him?

53:00 Cleo tries to help Scar disable desktop audio. This helps, but does not eliminate the problem. Cleo and Cam believe it is desktop audio and Scar is just not finding the correct source. Ren begins chanting the “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck” rhyme, because he is terrible. Scar gives up and leans into it, telling Ren to do the woodchuck thing again. Clearly those two are hearing a lot that Cleo is not hearing right now.

54:50 Scar is silent for a moment, then comes back and says he may have figured it out. “Oh?” Cleo asks. Scar asks if hypothetically, someone were to have three open sources of their own stream in the background on their desktop, could that cause this. Cleo answers “yes” in the carefully controlled voice of someone who wants to say so very, very much more. In the chat, Cameron has been reduced to ellipses. Cleo reminds Scar that the very first thing they asked him was if he had his stream open in the background. Scar admits he had three tabs of his stream open, but they were minimized so he didn’t see them. Apparently he had some trouble linking when he was trying to tweet out his stream start, and that eventually led to… all of this. Chat is melting down. Ren tells Scar “You are easily in my top ten favorite humans.” Scar cannot hear him because, on top of everything else, he is working with a broken pair of headphones old enough to be starting intermediate school in the fall. Ren types it into the game chat.

56:00 Scar adjusts Ren’s audio and tells him he has pumped him up so he can hear better. Cleo says Ren does not need pumping up, that Ren comes fully inflated at all times. Chat wants a clip of that immediately. Scar claims that nothing like this has ever happened to him before. Cleo says at least they know what the problem was now: ineptitude! Ren admits that he gave up on helping immediately and embraced the chaos. Cleo tries to say that they could help a little by passing along Cameron’s advice, but is interrupted by Scar audibly dropping his headset. Chat is just having the best time right now.

57:20 Cleo asks Scar if he’s going to get a new headset. He says “not yet” in the vocal tone of a talking dog who knows he is the one who ate all the ham. She asks why and he explains he hasn’t decided what he wants yet, and also he hates spending money. Exasperated, Cleo reminds him that this is his JOB. Scar snicker laughs and says he was thinking today that he probably does need to have a burial for this headset. He can bury it in the garage. She suggests “burying” it with a ten pound hammer. Scar says he gets sentimental and weird and very specific things: his sunglasses and this headset. He’s had the headset longer than he’s been on Hermitcraft! ((Scar joined Hermitcraft in Season 4, which started in early 2016, meaning that the headset is a minimum of eight years old and probably older.)) Cleo is appalled and insists that this proves the exact point she was trying to make. At some point the headset was good but now it is ancient and diseased and needs to be put out of its misery. Scar insists that it’s not diseased because he has replaced the ear cups several times. A brief discussion of the Headset of Theseus ensues before Cleo rejects the whole premise.

59:30 Cleo points out that if Scar’s headset is over ten years old, he is going to hear _so much_ better when it is replaces. Scar insists that it’s a good headset and gets very nostalgic about how many Hermitcraft meetings have come through that headset, but Cleo would rather not. Ren suggests that Scar needsto take the headset in a field and deal with it Office Space style. ((A famous scene in the movie Office Space involves smashing a printer to bits with a bat.)) This actually seems to appeal to Scar. The three also discuss the merits and risks of a viking funeral for the headphones. Scar likes the idea because it involves a flaming arrow. Apparently Scar did some archery when he was young and even got a couple bullseyes. His archery career was ended when his brother broke the windows on the shed with an arrow and got the bow taken away. Ren says he is scared of bow and arrows because of a time in boarding school where an older boy bullied the new kids by shooting an arrow straight into the air and making them run away from it.

1:02:00 Scar shoots an arrow into the air to illustrate the story. Ren says that brings back painful memories, yes. Scar tells them that this is the first arrow of the new HotGuy bow, because he fell into lava again yesterday and lost everything. Chat is still pretty hung up on Ren’s story. Cleo sighs that at some point they are going to just have to give Scar some kind of frequent flier discount at the bookshop. Scar clears his throat and says it’s nice that Cleo mentioned that because there is a situation where some snails stole all his diamonds… Cleo asks if he stole books from the shop. He insists that it wasn’t stealing because he is going to pay it back! He paid half at the time and the other half is on layaway, which in his mind apparently involves getting to take the items before you have finished paying for them. Cleo insists that they can’t get a new trophy with layaway diamonds!

1:02:40 Scar and Cleo find common ground over the fact that they are both currently the plaintiffs in server lawsuits. Scar is embroiled in a dispute with some snails and a man named Big Ron who may or may not be Mumbo, while Cleo is suing Doc for killing a pig they had a special emotional attachment to. Cleo’s suin’ papers have been delivered and Ren should expect a subpoena at any point. Ren says he’s not going to appear in court for less than a stack of diamonds, suggesting he is not super-familiar with the subpoena power in general and “things a witness should probably not say” in specific. Scar, confused, asks if Ren is Cleo’s lawyer. Cleo clarifies that Ren is a witness. Skizz is Cleo’s lawyer. Scar is sorry to hear that and offers his condolences to Cleo. Cleo says it’s fine because the other lawyer is Joe. She is also not going to say what she did to the judge. She clears her throat and moves on.

1:03:30 Ren reiterates the fact that if Cleo were to see her way clear to making a substantial amount of diamonds appear in Ren’s mailbox, he might just become a very enthusiastic and helpful witness. Cleo insists that all she really wants is for Doc to suffer. Ren says he just wants to make some profit off the situation. Cleo asks points out that Ren is supposed to be married to Doc. Scar agrees and says that it’s not right to get in the middle between family. He asks Cleo if this is about the pig. “Yeah, it’s about the pig,” Cleo admits, sounding a bit embarrassed about it at this point. Cleo is suing for intentional infliction of emotional distress.

1:04:10 Ren informs Scar that there was A MURDER. Scar knows about the murder, it’s tied into his investigation and he has zero leads and he doesn’t know what to do because Doc is expecting results! Cleo is confused until Scar clarifies that as a member of the Poe Poe, he is charged with investigating the diamond ore thefts that were the instigating incident for the pig murder but he has zero leads and he doesn’t know what to do. Ren immediately tells Scar he’s barking up the wrong tree because Ren of course knows absolutely nothing about the diamond snitcher and can be of no help whatsoever. Scar finds that immediate reaction very suspicious. Cleo doesn’t know from suspicions or diamond filchers, all they know is that there’s a diamond thief and it caused their pig to die. Ren admits that it is possible that his quick denial might have sounded a bit suspicious.

1:05:20 Ren admits that he was trying so hard to sound not-suspicious that he accidentally wrapped right back around to suspicious again. Scar laughs and tells him he “pulled an Impulse,” referencing Impulse’s frequent behavior from Friday Night Among Us streams. Scar decides that he has a new prime suspect. Cleo is not sure Doc will believe Ren took the diamonds. Ren says he couldn’t have thought of the prank and even if he had, he wouldn’t have the follow-through to actually do it. Cleo thinks about it and decides yeah, Ren probably doesn’t have the energy. Scar laughs and protests that he already used that as his excuse and nobody believes him!

1:06:20 Cleo says it can’t be her because she has no energy or patience to poke Doc and then have to listen to Doc rant on and on about how terrible the punishment raining down is going to be, only to have him never deliver. Ren wants to plead his case some more, but Scar is too busy laughing at Cleo’s declaration. He agrees that Doc did dole out some punishment last season, but that the threats are mostly bluster. He does a very terrible Doc impression. Cleo does another Doc impression that is also terrible but in a different way. Scar goes to sleep and Cleo points out that this area is mob proofed. Ren points out that Scar literally just died to a zombie. Cleo has to admit that’s true, but it was a water zombie. Scar points out that he died and they both just LET IT HAPPEN. Cleo protests that she was tabbed out. Ren says he was too busy looping.

1:07:40 Cleo offers Ren the opportunity to tell his story and prove his innocence. Ren goes back to the distant days of Season 8 when he and Doc were living in each others’ pockets, basically in voice chat all day long. Cleo offers condolences for that, but thinks it might make Ren more likely to want to commit a crime. Ren insists no, the opposite! He offers as character evidence the fact that False won Demise this year in part because Ren decided not to target her at the end of the game and in fact helped her although he had no reason to do so. Ren is very loyal to his particular people, and Doc is one of them, so therefore QED Ren cannot possibly be the ore snatcher.

1:08:50 “So you’re saying it’s False,” Scar summarizes. Cleo agrees that is what they got from the story as well. Ren insists that False is way too busy to be doing ore snatching with all the river building, etc. Cleo agrees that this is true, except that Ren just told them it was False. “Did I?” he asks, bewildered. Scar and Cleo both heard it. Scar says sometimes you just need to stop talking because you just keep digging, a subject he himself is well-versed in. Cleo says Ren is incapable of stopping talking. Ren suggests pulling footage of several Among Us streams to prove something about his character, but Cleo interrupts, saying that if they’re pulling footage, Cleo can just pull the bit showing Ren killing the pig. Cleo corrects herself a moment later to say Doc killing the pig, but Ren seizes on the slip as the reason innocent folks like himself get sent to jail. Chat is going to clip that and then everyone is going to think he’s the pig murderer. The soundbite where he says “I’m the pig murderer” in a low sinister voice probably will also not help his clip issues.

1:10:30 Scar moves the conversation along by suggesting more Hermits as potential suspects. This turns into an incredibly lengthy and wide-ranging conversation that is much more concisely summed up in the Reddit document devoted to it. Cub eventually joins in as well to defend himself from some accusations against himself and to throw out some of his own. Joe comes along as well a little later but is less interested in levying accusations and more interested in litigating the unfairness of the fact that he had the idea to mess with the diamond ore first but someone else ran with it and has caused a commotion that could have been his. The conversation lasts for nearly an hour.

2:06:00 The argument turns to whether or not a sophisticated redstoner would be required in order to snatch the ores out of Doc’s machine without breaking it. ((There was an early belief that Ore Snatch #2 did break the machine, but careful video analysis reveals that Doc simply did not notice the ore when it was first removed and that the machine remained unbroken until later on when Ren and Scar came over during Ren’s stream and Ren poked at it. That is actually how the armor stand deployed and the inventory shifted.)) Most of the Hermits present claim to have not even seen the redstone circuitry in question, so a field trip is obviously in order. They all fly over to the armor trim shop.

2:07:20 Scar plays the Poe Poe Siren horn as they fly to the shop, which probably makes this an official Poe Poe visit of some sort. They land outside the shop and Ren worries about spoilers, but most of the shop has been around for awhile. Scar gets distracted by a wandering trader while the rest of the group goes into the shop to look around. Ren points out one of the circuits where a replaced ore block is still visible, commenting that looking down into the circuitry is enough to make him feel panicky. Cleo looks at the armor stands instead and mostly feels offended. Joe points out that most of the redstone circuitry is inert while the machine is not active. As long as one doesn’t touch a block that is powered or, like, pseudopowered? He cannot remember the correct word ((possibly something to do with quasiconnectivity?)) but as long as someone wasn’t removing a block that powered something, they should be able to do it with no trouble.

2:08:20 Cleo abandons the redstone discussion to fiddle with the armor stands that are particularly offending her. One statue has the arm buried inside the chest and that is just unacceptable. She fixes the armor stand to give the statue a more natural posture. Joe says that surely it’s fine and Doc definitely will not get upset about people adjusting things in this room, of all places. Cleo scoffs and says Doc won’t know. The others begin discussing whether the shop is actually open for business, with Joe deliberately muddying the waters by pointing out that the shop must be open because it has no door or anything keeping people from walking inside. Cleo continues making small adjustments to the postures of the statues and is busy with a fish-headed model when suddenly the alarm goes off. It is impossible to tell from Cleo’s perspective who broke the block that triggered the alarm, but all the Hermits who entered the building are still on the main sales floor when she turns around to look. ((Ren’s POV on this is also useless as he was freecamming into the redstone, but Scar’s stream POV shows that Cub placed a magma block at the top of the front doorframe of the shop and broke it, which triggered the alarm. It’s not clear what Cub was doing, but “being a smartass about the is-the-shop-open question” is a fairly safe bet.))

2:09:10 Ren warns everyone to stay up top as the alarm system is dangerous. Scar immediately notices that there is now a Warden in the depths of the machine. Cleo laughs and reminds everyone to be quiet. All the Hermits mill around on the glass display floor to try and get a glimpse of the Warden. Scar asks why it’s not attacking them all. Cleo suggests that it might be distracted by the noise of the alarm itself. Ren says it’s just climbing the stairs and they’d better get going. The world turns black. The Hermits flee.

2:10:20 The Hermits regroup on the grassy lawn well outside Doc’s shop. Cleo is still laughing pretty hard. Ren says “So yeah, that’s the scene of the crime.” Cub wonders if the wandering trader will be killed by the warden. Scar is worried; that trader has gilded blackstone miniblocks and Scar wants him alive. The Warden does not appear to be making an appearance now that everyone has left, though. Cub, Joe and Scar head back towards the building to see what’s happening inside, but Cub and Scar turn back well before the door, driven back by the obnoxious noises of the alarm. Joe goes straight into the building. Ren speculates why someone would want to investigate now, if not to find better ways to get in later. Scar points out that with the alarm already tripped, it’s basically free game now until Doc resets it. Joe only stays inside for a few moments before coming back out. Scar shoots an arrow at him but doesn’t connect.

2:11:40 Somewhat belatedly, the group starts to wonder what triggered the alarm. Cleo suggests that surely someone must have gone down into the redstone. Ren suddenly wonders whether freecam possibly could’ve activated it. Cub pooh-poohs that idea but nobody else is sure. Ren says it’s not a very good alarm if it can trigger just from a customer entering the shop. ((Ren is acting like he doesn’t know what triggers the alarm, which is strange since he helped test it and should know full well that it is breaking blocks.)) Chat knows that the alarm trigger is breaking blocks. Cub admits he placed and broke some magma blocks. Cleo demands to know whether they can set off the alarm so easily, by just setting down a block and breaking it. They are going to annoy Doc _so much _ with this knowledge. Scar suddenly realizes that this means there is very little effective way to pay for items in the shop, since pulling a wallet from a shulker box, placing it down and picking it up again would trigger the alarm. It is not, they decide, a very good alarm system.

2:12:40 Cub decides he’s going in. The others stay outside and talk about whether or not they were scared of the warden, a bell curve that seems to have a lot to do with how much they played the lower levels of Decked Out 2. Cub types in chat that it’s fine, then flies back and tells them that he did get blasted. “Nice,” Cleo compliments. Cleo is of two minds whether they should all keep their mouths shut or leave some kind of sign at the door for Doc. Scar is worried about property damage, but the sonic shriek does not break blocks, only players. Cleo does like the idea of Doc thinking his alarm caught the culprit, then getting linked to the stream and realizing it is just a bunch of bumbling Hermits. They also think it is funny that now the Glitcher actually can do anything they want in the next few hours until the alarm is reset. Nobody else knows the name “The Glitcher,” or at least they are pretending not to. Cleo consults with Chat and passes along the knowledge that the name The Glitcher was provided to Doc on a sign after one of the ore thefts. Scar thinks that this new name sounds a lot like the work of one Cubfan and plays his Darth Vader breathing horn in an attempt to intimidate him into a confession. It does not work. In the background, Joe has left the group and gone back towards the shop, but drops out of sight at the base of the sand pile and eventually flies back around to rejoin the group without actually going inside.

2:15:10 Cub pushes the Grian and/or Scar theory again, but that’s been discussed before. Ren decides that after an hour and fifteen minutes, they are not even a tiny bit closer to figuring out whodunnit. But there is a warden in the shop now, so that’s something? Scar thinks that a warden has got to be bad for Doc’s business, right? Cleo doesn’t believe that Doc cares at all about the success of his business, mostly because he’s being paid in sand. Doc is just being dramatic. Cub circles back around to “The Glitcher” and the quotation marks around it are audible. He asks if it’s true there was a sign. He and Scar both want to see a screenshot from Chat. Chat thinks Cub is pretending a little too hard.

02:17:00 Cleo and Ren both suggest putting up signs purporting to be from the Glitcher, solely for the purpose of trolling Doc. Scar insists that they cannot do that, he is the investigator and he is supposed to be _helping._ Ren thinks it would be very funny to have a sign reading “Soz for tripping your alarm, -The Pincer” (Or Pincher, it’s hard to say.)) Cleo gives him a sign and tells him to have at it. Scar protests loudly again and says they can’t do that. Ren clearly considers it, but then says he cannot do it either, he is Doc’s husband. Cleo grabs the sign and runs for the shop.

2:18:40 Cleo braves the terrible noises of the shop to place a sign in the doorway reading “LOL, Failed Again!” Ren is right behind her and protests that she didn’t add the part about The Pincer. She agrees she did not, because that is LAME. Scar gets the screenshot he wanted from his Discord chat and suddenly remembers Doc talking about these signs. Apparently Doc saw that there was a misspelling on one of the signs and (in Scar’s words) decided to blame the dumbest guy in the crew. Cub also believes that a misspelled sign points in Scar’s direction. The new sign is not going to serve well as a piece of evidence, given that there is a lot of stream evidence about who placed it and why and when, but Cleo doesn’t care. Doc deserves to be wound up, he murdered Cleo’s pig.

2:19:50 Ren has to admit that even though Doc is his husband, he does have something to answer for when it comes to Pig Murder. Scar is paying attention to his chat for once, he tells the others to hang on because an investigation is taking place in his Discord. While Scar is so ostentatiously distracted, Cleo begins handing out a few judicious gifts of diamonds, though the stream lag inherent in a bunch of hermits together leaves a lot of room for them to steal from one another. Cleo becomes convinced that Joe has become the recipient of diamonds they intended to go elsewhere and begins beating him like a pinata in the hopes they will disgorge. In the background, Scar announces that his chat believes Big Salmon is behind the whole thing, but he has no idea what that means. Joe flies away. Scar swears he saw Grian walking around near Doc’s shop, but Cleo has no POV angle to confirm or deny that. Cameron informs Cleo that Ren got the diamonds and is lying about it. Cleo congratuates Grian on some excellent trolling. They go up to the shop, but do not find Grian. Cleo thinks that sneaking in under everyone’s noses for trolling is huge Grian energy.

2:22:20 Ren finds a sign on the sand store that was not there earlier. “Sorry about your alarm, Scar, Chief Investigator.” Scar swears he did not put it there, and indeed he would’ve had a very hard time doing so because he has been moving and talking with the group basically the entire time. Ren insists the sign is there, and it was even glow-inked. Cub says that must’ve been Grian, so Grian is a suspect too. Even as he says it, Joe throws a handful of glow inks out of his inventory and onto the ground. Scar notices it right away. Cleo points the finger at Joe. Joe says he said ten minutes ago that he was going to put up a sign on Scar’s behalf apologizing for the alarm, but nobody ever listens to him. Cleo laughs and says they love it when a plan comes together, they just wish it was theirs. The others are skeptical. Scar points out that Cleo is really pumping the ego of whoever did this and that’s a little suspicious. Cleo says that if they were the culprit, they would’ve told everyone. Joe points out that Cleo could’ve told everyone and it might not have changed anything. After all, Joe told everyone he was going to place the sign and nobody listened to that! Cleo points out that people actually listen to them.

2:24:30 Scar has a thought, forgets it immediately, then immediately remembers it again. He wants to know why his Chat is so insistent that it is Beef. ((Scar’s chat is very devoted to the Big Salmon Theory.)) Why would it be Beef? Cleo laughs and says every single one of them knows why it isn’t Beef right now, and that Beef is too busy to be getting up to any kind of shenanigans. The others agree and warn Scar not to say anything or else there will be real trouble. Scar suggests that Beef’s gonna have a beef with him, but he doesn’t offer any further hints. ((Cleo is obliquely referring to an announcement Beef will make the next day; he and his wife are expecting their first child and thus Beef has way bigger salmon to fry than moonlighting as the Ore Snatcher.)) Cub explains that Beef was part of the Big Salmon consortium that feuded with Doc and Big Wood at the start of the season, but that feud is pretty much over now. They all admire the Big Salmon floating in the Hourglass.

2:26:00 Scar reports that his Chat has turned around on the Beef question, they believe Cleo that it cannot be Beef. The group goes back to trying to decide who the Ore Snatcher actually is, aside from Joe who is still mad it isn’t him. They each go around the circle and give Scar a theory, but none of them seem better supported than the others. Scar says this is all useless, but he’s going to go get a search warrant to search everyone’s storage systems. Ren asks if Scar is going to search his own storage system, perchance? Scar says he’ll have Doc do it. Ren is satisfied by that. Cleo says that’ll definitely work, because nobody on this server except the culprit has deepslate diamond ore, surely.

2:29:00 Scar’s favorite theory is that it was Doc himself, causing drama by stealing his own diamonds. The others think that’s a funny theory. Joe says his favorite theory is that the Scicraft guys got in touch with Karin, Doc’s partner, and gave her detailed instructions on how to carry out the thefts in retribution for unspecified petty wrongs. Whenever Doc is out of the house with Doccy, she’s sneaking onto the server with his account and stealing the diamonds based on detailed tutorials. Scar loves this idea. Ren asks if that means Karin has to come to court. Nobody is sure if she even has a Minecraft account. She might have to make one to come to court.

2:30:40 Cleo laughs and suggests that this has all been a big ploy to jump-start Karin’s YouTube career. Joe is taken by this idea and suggests it would be an amazing spinoff series, Karin and Mrs. Tango and Lizzie Shadow-Beans, but they’re all thieves. Ren puts forth a suggestion from his chat that maybe it _is_ Lizzie, pranking Doc when Joel is out of the house. Cleo thinks Karin is a more likely suspect than Lizzie. Scar admits it’s unlikely, but hilarious. Cleo says that now it is imperative that some Hermit’s spouse begins pranking the server. Joe says that now that his fiance Badgerspanner has heard that, she’s going to demand to be able to do it. Cleo laughs and points out that Joe will get blamed for that. Joe cheerfully announces that he knows, and it’s just going to make more work for Cleo because she’s going to have to explain to him why, when everybody thought it was a funny idea during this stream. Scar suddenly chimes in with “Desperate Hermitwives” from his Chat.

2:32:50 Cleo wants to wrap up, but she stays long enough to hear one more Bdubs theory. Ren wants to know what better way there could be to get people into the court for lawsuits than by causing a bunch of trouble? Cub likes that idea, but Cleo and Scar argue about whether the court actually costs money. Cub is still accusing Scar though, saying that nobody has more to gain from crimes on the server than the Poe Poe. Scar protests, saying he and Bdubs are the Judicial system and devoted to stopping crime! Because the police are never corrupt, right? The argument continues for a moment until Scar finally says “I touched Doc’s boring machine, I blew it up, I banged it too hard, and I’m not interested in banging Doc’s redstone anymore.”

2:34:35 There is a moment of silence. Cleo announces she is leaving. It’s been a lovely stream, they should do this again sometime never. She flies away laughing and insisting that nobody should ever ask Scar why, because No. Cleo apologizes to Chat for getting nothing useful done, but Chat clearly does not care. Cleo goes back to full screen to thank subs and donos, then says that even though she didn’t plan a lot, she did technically plan the plan, which was the plan all along. So that’s something. Cleo raids into Rendog and (with a brief interruption from Joe and his train whistle) ends their stream.

[everylastbird]

I've been thinking of a soulmates style au wherein hualian discover they are soulmates after XL saves HC as a child.

In this AU meeting your soulmate is incredibly rare and very auspicious, so even though HC is a commoner he is recognized as XL's future spouse and taken into the care of the royal family, but sequestered away from XL to maintain decorum. They see each other now and again, and interact during events and gatherings, but otherwise are kept separated. HC is delighted and pines and generally dreams of the day he gets to officially marry XL and be his wife.

(I like to personally use the term 'wife' in danmei specifically to mean 'the spouse that marries into the home of the other', so as he is marrying into XL's home, he would be the bride in this scenario.)

XL ascends, as in canon. Unlike in canon, when a soulmate ascends, so too does your soulmate, and HC ascends with XL.

XL also descends and falls from godhood, as in canon. Ever so magnanimous, JW ~kindly~ allows HC to stay in heaven upon XL's request, as HC didn't break any rules. HC is, however, bound to the heavens, unable to descend to seek out XL.

Centuries pass, and HC becomes known as a God of constancy, faithfulness, and marriage. He is regarded with both awe and pity. Poor HC, who remains loyal to a faithless god of misfortune. Isn't it incredible, how much he is willing and able to endure to uphold the sanctity of his marriage vows? He has a large faction of worshippers, mostly brides and wives in arranged, unhappy marriages, who pray to him for strength.

Few, if any, remember that Xianle fell before HC had the chance to marry XL. That all this time he has remained steadfast and true to his fiancé, rather than his husband. The gods that do look upon him with scorn and judgment. No one expects him to remain loyal to the likes of XL, so who does he think he is putting on this show for?

It doesn't matter what those gods, or even what his worshippers think of him, however. HC is loyal to XL out of love, and devotion. He is not suffering out of obligation. His only pain is that felt by his fiancé, and the pain of separation forced upon him.

And despite what the gods and his worshippers assume, he is not a long-suffering bride who sits and pines for his beloved. While he yearns for the day he can reunite with XL, HC spends his time playing the long-con. After all, is the keeping of house and home not one of the primary roles of any good wife? And the heavens are so steeped in filth. Certainly not worthy of his husband to be.

As for XL, he strives and toils to regain his godhood under the weight of his lost worshippers and the scorn of the gods who once praised him.

More than that, he worries, often, about HC, and his misplaced loyalty. Every now and then XL hears another tale of HC's endless, unshakeable loyalty, but with those tales also come stories of that devotion being nothing more than a shackle. Nothing is ever said of HC's love for his husband, or HC's happiness, only his impressive endurance in the face of obligation to a worthless husband. XL fears that HC is little more than a long suffering would-be bride, held back by XL's mistakes and the fate that bound them together without either of their say.

So XL does his best to regain his godhood, so that he may re-enter heaven and finally free HC from himself for good.

When, after 800 years, XL finally ascends once again, nothing is as he had expected it to be. There is a crowd, but no one is casting judgment or disparaging him. Instead, it seems as though he has ascended amidst the start of a lavish celebration.

As XL stands amidst a sea of joyful revelry, a procession slowly makes its way towards him, and at its end, a bridal sedan.

When the sedan stops before him and a hand moves aside its curtain, XL reaches out to grasp it without thinking. Gently, he leads the bride off of the sedan and onto solid ground.

XL looks up at a veil of opaque crimson silk. He cannot see the face behind it, does not even know, after all this time, what HC would even look like... But in this moment he knows, unquestionably, that this is not just any bride, but his bride.

Part of XL recalls that one of his main reasons to rise to godhood again was to let HC go, to finally allow him freedom from the weight of being tethered to someone like XL. And yet, any thoughts of breaking his vows to HC dry up in his mouth. He has thought of so many ways to say it, so many ways to cut HC loose of him without bringing HC any more pain, but he cannot bring himself to say any of them.

The hand in his grasp turns, and laces their fingers together. His bride's hand is strong, XL observes as though from a distance, unflinching and sure.

"Hello, gege," HC says. His voice is deeper than XL remembers, richer and more vibrant than anything he has experienced for decades, if not centuries. 

"Ah, San Lang, I'm sorry, " he manages to force out through his shock. His laugh is pitchy and uneven even to his own ears. "I'm afraid I'm not quite prepared...!"

"It's okay, gege." A thumb carasses his knuckles tenderly, and XL's throat tightens. "I already have everything ready for us."

[becoming-less-than]

Master told me I needed to make a post about how I feel when we are done with a training session. Our sessions are a lot of conditioning through association of pleasure with the things Master wants me to internalize. Lots of hypno gifs filled with the best most humiliating and most degrading debaucheries that make me soo aroused and needy, truths he wants me to repeat and internalize until they become second nature and irrefutable. We opted for this kind of training because conventional hypnosis is hard for me my Autistic ADHD dyslexic brain gets easily distracted, or starts correcting grammar, meter, syntax and diction, or the voice of the tist just grates and I tend not to be able to relax into trance. Regardless Master has opted to undermine my current self with pleasure through edging and controlled orgasms. I initially thought this would be mostly ineffective, that it wouldn’t achieve desired results but I am more than able to admit when I am wrong.

Our third such session caused me to drop into a headspace I don’t think I have ever experienced before that time. It was like trying to think through honey. My thoughts felt slow and seemed to stick together in a way that made articulating them very hard. I felt spacey and spaced out like I had disassociated but instead of boredom or distraction being the trigger it was pleasure. Just kind like lost in this syrupy sweet haze of pleasure and contentment that slowed everything down in a way that not even the best drugs or hours of meditation have ever achieved. I was trying to provide feedback on the session so Master could more effectively continue to brainwash me and that analytical process did seem to cause the feeling to burn away quite a bit more quickly than it might have otherwise, but threads of it lingered for over an hour in various corners of my mind.

It was during our fourth session, and my second drop into the warm comforting embrace that he broke my sexual orientation. That he made me accept the reality that I crave cock. Ache to serve cock. To suck cock. To be fucked by cock. And the haze felt even better I struggled to articulate thoughts into sentences, to find words for discrete ideas, to remember what I’d done that day other than edge for Master because he told me to; to repeat the truths he spoke into being within me; and to cum because he commanded me. That sweet honeyed haze lasted until I fell asleep that night almost two hours later.

I awoke with the sticky gossamer of it wrapped around my mind the next morning. It urged me to let go and fall back tried to tempt me into seeking it back out and surrender. I managed to hold off long enough to complete essential tasks,but when they were done, I begged Master to let me edge and he graced me with my fifth session. One that left me appreciably dumb and slow and spacey and blissed for several hours before my next commitment during my day. However, when that commitment ended Master gave me a 6th session I was utterly unprepared for and hadn’t expected.

It left me broken in the wake of it feeling like my head was abuzz with the pleasure of obedience, of pleasing my Master, of being his dumb bimbo cow slut. I literally couldn’t remember the words I was looking for when Master asked me to describe the feeling. I told him “I feel like my head is full of buzzing insects, the cute ones, that are good for the environment and plants, that make honey… bees” it took me nearly 3 minutes to remember the word “bees” and that small humiliation was in and of itself arousing but drove home to me just what an impact this work I am doing with Master is having on me. Things linger longer after each session, I crave them more in between, and I fall deeper, get dumber, and better understand the bliss of service and obedience with each one; they are changing me and I love it!!!

Thank you Master for your time and effort in making me your pleasing dumb bimbo cow. I hope this meets your expectations; and that that success means I’ve been a good girl. Moo! 🖤

[lets-try-some-writing]

i remember the younger primes being outcasted/mistreated by the older primes after the battle w/ unicron in the covenant of primus, though i don't remember if thirteen was also mistreated since i haven't read it in a long time

so i was thinking maybe a short story about thirteen being mistreated? but like, marginally more since he's thr absolute last of the thirteen

I got you pal.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Giftless, powerless, without purpose. That was what they said about him nonstop. They did not mean to be cruel, Thirteen could see it in their optics. They were merely stating what they saw as a fact. That didn't stop it from hurting. That didn't keep him from wandering aimlessly in order to escape their backhanded words.

Most of his siblings ignored him or otherwise regarded him distantly. He was a decoration at the best of times and a roadblock on days when the patience of his kin was limited. Prima threw him out of the way once, and Quintus threatened to drop him in a vat of acid just to see if an energy being could melt. If he wasn't a waste of space, he was a training dummy. There really wasn't much of a choice on his end. he didn't feel pain, so of course it was only logical that he assist in things that had him performing as an object rather than a person. Thirteen was not their equal, not in the optics of his fellow Primes.

The only one who treated him well was the most unlikely of the Primes. The only other partial outcast.

"Thirteen, my little Prime, what have they done to you this time." Solus ran her digits along his armor, the armor she made for him when she saw how damaged his original shell had become. It was a gift forged with love after she finally witnessed how carelessly he was being treated.

Where before she had largely ignored him, now she coddled him. Perhaps it was the fact that Thirteen was being damaged, or maybe it was simply because she had been mostly unaware of his presence. It could have even been because she saw another outcast in him. Whatever the case, she tended to him.

"Another scorch mark..." She sighed as she pulled him into a hug. It was a new thing for him, but Thirteen melted into her embrace all the same. She was the only one who understood. She was the only one who cared.

"I'm sorry they cannot see your light as I do." She shook as she caressed his helm so lovingly forged for his use. He could feel her tears trickling onto his armor. He wanted more than anything to wipe them away, but there was little use. She was the only one of their number who did not match the mold set by the others, and Thirteen was the broken Prime lacking in power and frame. They were outcasts, and neither of them were going to cease being scorned for their oddities any time soon.

"I promise you, I will change things for us. We will be seen, and when I can convince the others, I will personally make you a seat at our table." Solus cupped his face, her violet optics burning bright with passion. She would do as she promised, regardless of the cost. Thirteen wished he had a voice to deny her wishes with. He was fine being discarded so long as he had her. He needed no seat at the table of the Primes. He needed no respect or honor despite how much he longed for it.

He just needed Solus, and he needed her to be safe. Standing up for him would only make her a target. Her oddities already had her position hanging by a mere thread. If she were to act out on his behalf...

"Don't, please don't. they will hurt you as they do me."

His words meant nothing. She could not hear his pleading thoughts as she comfortingly began the process of touching every new scar upon his frame. It did not hurt. He was incapable of feeling pain. But by Primus, did every mark feel like a scorch on his spark.

"I will speak with Megatronus. If all goes well, we may gain him as our ally and fix things. Don't you worry Thirteen, this too shall pass." She pressed a kiss to the crest of his helm, a motherly gesture that Thirteen cherished. He prayed that she would endure, that her passionate spark would last forever.

And yet, he had a feeling it was not to be.

[doumadono]

I just wanna know why so many adult mha smut creators say they age up minors as if it justifies their attraction to them. Would you say it's okay to age up Eri too?

Ah, aging-up fictional characters, my favorite controversial topic! ♥ You know, I was low-key anticipating an anon to drop this kind of question, sooner nor later (what a pity you didn't have balls to come off-anon tho!). I've had my fair share of childish anons before, and trust me, those went straight into the digital dumpster. But hey, this time, I've decided to lay it all out on the table, crystal clear 🙅‍

You know, I've done it all – murder, rape, summoned demons, even glorified Satan and had several children killed in my stories. But guess what? Not a single pair of handcuffs in sight! 😎 And don't get me started on the horror section at any bookstore - it's like a buffet of dreadful deeds.

Let's be real, the purity police can take a hike. There's something oddly fishy about the fact that fanfic, mostly crafted by awesome writers, gets the brunt of the criticism or some ridiculous accusations, especially the smutty bits, while the gruesome stuff gets a free pass 🤷

Look, folks, it's all about context. Fiction is a realm where creativity knows no bounds, right? So, if I want to age-up a character for a mature storyline, I'll go for it 🤷 Look, it's all a part of the creative process. Fiction is like a playground where we can swing from the monkey bars of imagination, right? Aging-up fictional characters is a common practice in creative communities, and it's important to remember that these characters exist solely within the realm of fiction - they are not real, so it doesn't hurt them in any single way. It allows creators to explore different scenarios and relationships without crossing any ethical boundaries :) Also! Aging-up characters isn't some sneaky scheme to write "inappropriate" content about youngsters. It's about taking characters you adore or find fascinating and giving them a new lease on life. It's like those college AU fanfics for characters in their late 30s or kidfic for full-grown adults. It's all about exploring different phases of their lives. So, whether it's smutty or not, the essence remains the same 😎 You see, the whole "aging-up" thing in fanfic/fanart is just common sense. We're not into the whole "let's sexualize kids" scene, so we gracefully turn our characters into adults. It's all about creating content featuring responsible, grown-up folks. And let's get real, if reading about something meant you were all in on it, then every mystery novel reader out there would have to be either an undercover detective nor a murderer 😎 So let's dial down the judgment and just enjoy our creative freedom, shall we?

But you know, trying to equate aging-up with things like grooming/pedophilia is like saying eating a banana is the same as piloting a spaceship because they're both hands-on activities. Let's keep our perspective here, folks, and not get too carried away with the terminology 😂

If you don’t want to read those stories (containing aged-up characters/dark content/smut with aged-up characters) - then don’t read them - problem solved!

Oh, how times have changed, my friend! Back in the day, I used to let all those comments and anonymous hate bring me down. But guess what? I've evolved, and I've got news for the critics: I write what I want to write, and nobody's gonna tell me otherwise. I've got this little thing called free will, and I'm not about to hand it over to anyone who thinks they can dictate what I should or shouldn't put on paper. If that means ruffling a few feathers, so be it. I've shed my tear-soaked days and embraced the fact that I couldn't care less about those sensitive souls who can't handle a bit of fiction. So, to all you "snowflakes" out there, if you're trying to stifle my creativity, good luck, because I'm just going to crank up the heat and write even smuttier storylines with aged-up characters! Thanks for the encouragement, dear Nonnie – you've only fueled my fire! 🔥😎 I might even consider writing some very dark-themed fic with aged-up Eri, why not! 😈

Oh, hey Anon! Quick question for you. Have you ever picked up a Stephen King book? You know, the master of horror and suspense? Well, if you have, you might've noticed that he doesn't shy away from some pretty explicit content, and not just with adults. Sometimes he writes about kids too, and they're sometimes off legal age as well! Surprise, surprise. You can stroll into a bookstore, grab a book off the shelf, and guess what? There's a good chance that some of those books contain content that would make a sailor blush! Yet, the world isn't collapsing because of it. The point is, even in mainstream literature, you'll find situations that might make you raise an eyebrow. So, let's not throw stones at age-up fiction creators when the literary giants sometimes walk on the same edge, right? 😏

In the conclusion, if you've got a problem with aging-up fictional characters, dear Nonnie, you might want to take a chill pill and remember that it's all just a bit of fun in the end ♥ Well, you know what would truly make my day? If you took the liberty to hit that "block" button with glee and gracefully vanished from my interactions. And if, by some chance, you decide to stick around, don't hold your breath for a response. I'll be too busy conjuring up some fiery, smutty tales featuring Bakugo or Shoto or any other character I like to bother with your, shall we say, less-than-enlightening queries. But hey, chin up, pal – here's a little nugget of wisdom from your "older and wiser" friend: go get a life. It's an absolute game-changer 😜 I'm tagging some content creators who write dark fics or use aged-up characters and might face similar anons/anon hate: @mrskokushibo @ectologia @kyojurismo @bakubunny

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 27

Hey look! Women Kissing!

Feel like I said this already but I really do think I’ve gotten a lot better at kissing as the project goes on. There’s one coming up where I like, am pretty iffy on it and it’s too late to edit, but otherwise I’ve gotten pretty good at this kind of thing! This project’s actually been a great learning experience for art stuff Like the obvious thing is that i can just draw Junko and Mikan on a whim without requiring a reference like I would for other characters. But beyond that I’ve gotten a lot of practice drawing kissing, I’ve become significantly better at fiddling with the finer details of expressions, I’ve refined my ability to just use a Sketch as linework instead of making the lines their own entire process (which is something I usually saved for grittier art), and that’s just the stuff I can openly talk about in terms of what I learned working on all these fucking pictures.

Admittedly most of what I learned is mostly useful for drawing ship-y stuff like this, so for my more action oriented pieces the gains are negligible. But hey if you’ve ever seen some of my other gay art and really liked it, you can probably thank my extreme obsession with this ship for that! 

Oh also this is another one colored after the fact, can’t for the life of me remember how recently that was done though. 

[deathofacupid]

i'll always take care of you | clay jensen

a/n: this post saved me! posting another clay fic fully aware it's going to flop...

summary: clay hates parties, but if you're going, he's going too. someone's gotta watch out for you, right?

warnings: underage drinking, mention of drugs, cursing

pairing: fem!reader x clay jensen

word count: 1.2k+ words

he swears, he swears, he took his eyes off you for less than five minutes to pee. in his defense, clay didn't think you'd go missing in that short amount of time. (okay, he tells himself, maybe "missing" isn't the right word choice if he wants to stay calm.)

now, he thinks - knows - otherwise. clay regrets not asking one his sober friends to watch you, because who knows what might've happened to you?

and now that he's acknowledged the fact something might've happned to you, he's spiraling. hey, at least he's self aware of the fact he's spiraling, right?

yeah, okay, so that doesn't make things better.

he asks around, but the music is too loud, so most people don't even hear him. and if they do hear him, they're "busy". whether it's dancing, grinding, or drinking, he's reached the conclusion that no one gives shits.

he's frantically going back and forth, room to room. clay tries your phone a number of times, though he isn't suprised when it goes straight to voicemail.

as he shoves past more people, heading to the kitchen where the drinks are at (you might be there), his mind is racing with every possibility.

what if someone took advantage of you? and it was all his fault? be, god, did he not learn all the previous times?

he shoulders a drunk couple, and scans the area. empty bottles, alcohol not not, trash the counters, and a number of cabinets are left open. clay takes a few step fowards, accidently kicking a can. he pick it up, and in the process, sees a girl... just lying there.

he makes a face, before realizing it's not just any girl. it's his girlfriend. it's... you.

"y/n? what the hell? where's your phone at? i've been looking for you everywhere!" he exclaims, trying to pull you up.

"shh. sh. look at those stars. god, i just love the ursa major."

"we're inside. those are the ceiling lights," clay says. he doesn't think he's ever met someone who gets drunk like you.

"oh. well, it's still magical."

"yeah, lord praise the electrican," with a slight struggle, he pulls you up to your feet, and you don't resist.

"how much did you have to drink?" he mutters, and it's mostly rhetorical.

"yes, i am."

"no, that's not- never mind. we're leaving."

"nooo. why? we just got here!"

"oh, yeah," he rolls his eyes, "we just got here 3 hours ago."

you whine again, but he just sighs. you aren't normally a heavy drinker, but when you do decide to get out of that comfort zone, you go all out.

currently, it felt like he was dragging around a hormonal toddler. 0/10 experience, he does not recommend. of course, he'll happily do it anyways.

ask anybody really, clay's completely whipped for you. he hasn't felt this was since hannah, and even then, it doesn't feel the same.

it feels deeper.

part of him is afraid he's gonna mess this up, and that his love for you has peaked. but he looks right at you, and realizes that it never will.

"come on, angel," he says, almost pleadingly. the way your eyes gleam at the nickname he's just dropped has him all giddy.

"okie," you make grabby-hands at them.

"is this- are you asking me to carry you?" clay knows very well it wouldn't work out well. he's so greatful you look past his physical strength.

you shrug. "well," clay presses his lips together, "it looks like you can in fact walk, so... let's get to it."

he takes a step to you, and you stumble straight into his arms. clay darts a hand to your lower back to steady you, "whoa."

"i'm good!" you slur.

"and off we go, drunkie."

"'m... i'm not a," you pause, hiccupping, trying to remember the word he used.

"uh, at this moment, you are." he leads you to the front door, and he's so focused on helping you take steps forward, he completely slams into someone.

clay falters back as you fall out of your grip. but as he realizes what's happened, he sees that justin's caught you, and you're pressed up against him. "oh," you murmur, "well, hello there, handsome."

"yeah, okay, no," clay loops your arm back around him, stealing you back from his brother.

"alas, i'm taken," justin sighs. "and you are too. forbidden love, huh?"

clay rolls his eyes, for what feels like the millionth time tonight. "y/n's, like, shit-faced."

"i can see that. you taking her home?"

"your parents are out of town, right?" he asks, turning back to you.

"my... my parents?" you ask, "i have-?"

clay makes eye contact with justin. "she'll stay the night. i don't want her home alone. i assume you'll..." he grimaces, "stay the night with jess?"

"oh, you know it, bro."

clay makes a face, picturing his brother having sex isn't great. he knows he doesn't have to tell justin to do the right thing.

"cool. then you won't need a ride back."

"nope. you aren't drunk, right?"

"i'm the designated driver," clay replies.

"cool. night, by the way," he says, giving the two of you a quick hug.

"goodnight!" you sing-song, individually sounding out ever syllable.

he opens the car door for you, and you squint off into the distance. "look at the moon. it's so pretty. you're almost as pretty."

clay follows your eye line. "that... that is a street-lamp."

you shrug, "you're almost as pretty."

"gee, thanks."

"don't be jealous?"

"it's hard to not envy a street-lamp."

you giggle drunkenly, and a small smile flits over his face, "you're adorable," he tells you.

"i know," you say, matter-of-factly.

"aww, what an adorable narcissist."

"very."

clay chuckles and closes the door, getting in from the other side.

“where are we going?” you ask, squinting at the rear-view mirror in awe. “oh my, that’s me,” you whisper.

"a; my place, b; that's your reflection. wild, right?"

"whoa," is all you respond with. you pull on your seatbelt, adjusting it so you can turn to face him in your seat. "i really, really love you."

"well, you're in luck," he smiles, "the feeling's mutual."

he tries to keep up with your nonsensical blabber, but he doesn't know if he's done a good job. either way, clay's just pulled into the parking lot, turning the ignition off.

"all right," he turns to look at you, exiting from his side, and over to yours. unbuckling your belt for you, clay helps you out.

"to the shed we go!" you cheer, not very quietly. clay clamps a hand over your mouth, "you could quite literally not be any louder."

you bite his hand, and he yelps, pulling it away. "yes, i could!" you argue.

"trust me, i don't wanna test that theory out."

"your loss."

"not really."

the first thing he does is help you change into comfier clothes, an old shirt of his and basketball shorts that don't fit him anymore. clay doesn't have a reason to keep makeup wipes around, but he adds them to his mental shopping list for next time. he grabs a clean rag and wets it with warm water, gently wiping off the makeup.

then it's just you and his in the outhouse, pressed against each other under covers.

"tired?" he asks. you nod simply in reply.

"yeah, me too. now i have a good idea of being a dad is like." he chuckles at his own stupid joke, thinking that if you were sober, you'd say something silly like "okay, daddy".

"thanks for..." you trail off, yawning. clay kisses your forehead.

"i'll always take care of you."

[orisquirrelking]

May I please have p1 dude x reader Headcanons 💕 I love him so much (sob)

Also I'm from the RWS server LOL

P1 dude/reader HCs

I’m not gonna lie to you chief i am writing this in my lecture hall because i have no time otherwise LMAOO

Enjoy !!

——————————-

He’s not very social so the fact that you two even met in the first place is lowkey a miracle. He’ll dwell on this a lot. Were it not for the fact that the two of you were coincidentally at the same grocery store at the same time, he doesn’t think you would’ve ever even have heard of him.

(this is more of a gen headcanon, but) adding on to his antisocial personality, it’s been years since the incident in paradise (however you may interpret it, whether it be just a dream or an actual, physical event,) that lead to his long-term hospitalization at the paradise psychiatric ward. He had been staying there for as long as he can remember, only being released very recently due to medical advancements with medication for mental health issues. It’s not exactly a topic he likes to talk about though he may crack a joke that you’re not sure you can laugh at every once in a while.

Very schedule oriented. When you two began dating it was difficult for him to adjust to having another presence in his life. In the beginning he usually had to host dates at his place, just because he didn’t want to adjust at all. Its a push and pull process but the two of you are working on a more relaxed, healthier schedule.

You’ll notice that he patrols the borders of his house every once in a while. His paranoia can get high and at times he feels unsafe in his home. It’s mostly harmless behavior, and he doesn’t mind if you join him. 

You're going to be subject to a LOT of rambling about his weapons. He's a big collector, doesn't matter if they don't work, as long as they can look pretty. He keeps his “real” firearms and ammunition in safeboxes around his house. If you don't already know, he's teaching you how to use them.

As I've stated in other writings, I think that all of the dudes enjoy physical contact in one way or another. Unlike P2, P1 dude prefers to initiate physical contact and be able to pull away at any time. Don’t get him wrong, he loves physical contact, but he can be overstimulated at times and would prefer to not be in a pissy mood when around you.

When you start getting him to go out, he prefers to be able to go out to somewhere more spacious and more nature oriented, (as stated in the dating HCs.) so he can bring baby Champ with him.

Speaking of Champ, that puppy is his fucking lifeline. I like to think that in this universe Champ is his service dog in training, and is the first thing he received when he left the ward. If you don’t fw Champ, the chances of you two getting together are lower than 0%. On the other hand, nothing brings him more joy than when you’re lazing around at his home together and you start playing with Champ. He thoroughly enjoys it when you help him with Champ’s training, he loves seeing his two favorites get along!

Does not like it when he misses taking his meds. You’re going to have to assure him that missing one dosage isn’t going to erase all of the progress he’s made. Dude would be more on edge on the days when that happens. Sometimes this will lead to a meltdown, and honestly (as somebody who has the same issues that he does,) there really isn’t much you can do except be there for him.

Appreciates everything you do for him and will not hesitate to try to one-up you. You’ve offhandedly bought him food? He’s treating you to dinner. Homemade. Take care of him when he’s sick? Flowers, chocolate, and a day out with Champ. He doesn’t have the most money in the world but he wants to show you that he cares too.

Doesn’t want to seem dependent on anything, so sometimes he might pull away from you. He’s been independent for most of his life, so it hits an insecurity when he thinks he might have been “burdening” you with his issues. He’s not exactly used to being treated with so much kindness.

Overall? Be patient with this man for the love of god. It’ll take him some time to open up and yeah, he’s got his issues, but in the end he’s just a guy trying to make the best of a life full of experiences he never asked for.

[modcroissant]

Rebaking:

'Rebaking cookies is something most witches wouldn't think of doing, simply leaving the cookies be how they are before devouring them. Some witches would say this would be useless, but the godly creators of the past would say otherwise.'

'The once promised heroes of Earthbread had fell into corruption, while the witches had planned to seal them away, they remembered about the 'rebake' process. It wasn't exactly easy to lure the beasts, but the results were something the witches didn't want to pass up on.'

What happens to cookies who are rebaked:

'The cookie will have a huge loss of memories, the memories of their previous life shattered to pieces that is beyond repair. At first, the cookie is confused and scared, and with no memories of what happened it only makes them become more scared. It won't be long before the cookie starts to adjust to their new identity, although it can be difficult to gain their trust after they're rebaked, some treats like jellies can help and with patience they will start to be more comfortable.'

'Sometimes the cookie will have some appearances of their previous identity remaining on them, it is mostly their dough that remains the same. Despite the remaining similarities, the mind of the cookie is almost one of that of a child who is curious about the world around them. It is like a purification once you think about it.'

The Beasts:

Shadow Milk Cookie

'After he was rebaked, Shadow Milk is one curious cookie, possibly more curious then scared. While he didn't trust the witch at first, he started to warm up after a while. He is a bookworm, seeing that he took a lot of interest in books, he wasn't called the Hero of Knowledge for nothing. He had most of his appearances remaining, the hair, dough and eyes for example. While he might seem like the cookie most wouldn't trust, the witch that kept him had said otherwise. He was described to be obedient and doesn't mind affection as long as he's not busy. Quite shy as well the witch would say, often not getting into conversations and would rather hide away from others.'

Mystic Flour Cookie

{ No reports from the witch yet }

Eternal Sugar Cookie

{ No reports from the witch yet }

Burning Spice Cookie

{ No reports from the witch yet }

Silent Salt Cookie

{ No reports from the witch yet }

━━━━━━━━━━ ✧ .° ⁎⋆. °• ━━━━━━━━━━━

I hope you like this, this is the few times I write so please don't mind if some words doesn't make sense because even I myself don't make sense-

Anyway, here's a little art I decided to make.

"Why do I feel like I was someone else before...? That can't be right..."