#i need to make a design for him of each of the species of people that lived in his world

[ganondoodle]

attempt 1 and 2 at a design for demise as a mortal

i really like the second sketch :3

(this is him making up a version of himself if he grew up as a mortal instead of becoming a deity as a child; hes half lynel so i mixed in some boar elements as well :P )

[elodieunderglass]

hi! i was just wondering if you’re getting a piece of this pie. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/voidrealmminis/rise-of-the-eldertubbies?ref=profile_saved_projects_live

Oh my goodness! Haha thanks for showing me! And no, of course, this guy is still selling my dream while claiming it’s totally nothing to do with me. I hadn’t heard about it so thank you.

For those just joining us, here is the saga of the elder teletubbies:

1. in 2017 I posted a dream I had on Tumblr. In the dream I discovered that the childish teletubbies shown on BBC’s Teletubbies are merely the children of a species that grows up to be forest cryptids as adults. The post contained a detailed character description explaining how the children’s simple antennae become more complex antlers; their coats become thicker hair; their eldritch screens are unknowable; here, look:

The adult Teletubbies have more branching, complex antlers and shaggy coats. They are less brightly coloured. They are terrifyingly large. Their strangely human faces, emerging from the thick fur, are unquestionably adult; remote, serene, reproachful. Their television screens are glitchy, esoteric and unknowable. They are cryptids whose public exploitation has undermined their rarity and their strange, alien dignity.

That’s a pretty clear description.

2. The post quickly gained attention and many people drew art, made sculptures, designed in-depth character concepts, and even made DnD character sheets and entries with detailed notes. It was 2017. The post got over 90k notes. It had an extremely clear description of the cryptid in it. This wasn’t at all obscure.

3. The post and four pieces of the concept art, including the first piece by were screencapped and posted on r/tumblr. The post included this art by the now-deactivated @finoliatav which is, I think, the first piece of art. Most screencaps don’t show that it’s animated! Once you see it you can no longer pretend that any more work needs to be done in designing these characters, really - they’re all variations on a very clear theme.

4. A guy called Jars started drawing the BBC Teletubbies as adult Teletubbies. He noted on Reddit that his inspiration for the first one was the r/tumblr post but after that, he considered it entirely his own creative work. He drew each of the 4 BBC Teletubbies as adults using my character description and wrote a little story about how his character had stumbled upon them in the woods. He’s a good artist and his work went viral on Reddit and instagram. Those places being separate from Tumblr by the walls of the enclosure, they quickly believed the Jars was being highly original and praised him for it.

5. jars got carried away by his fame and started merchandising for all he’s worth. He’s selling elder teletubbies placemats. He got a collaborator to help him make and sell plushies.

6. Plushies of my character design applied to BBC characters. Jars sells them. To people. Who buy them. He sells these.

7. I think this is like… his job.

8. It has been years of this. I don’t think he has actually come up with anything else to sell by himself. But given that he now has millions upon millions of views on platforms I don’t use, let alone dominate (Instagram, YouTube, Reddit, TikTok) he seems to have fully subscribed to the idea that this is his THING.

9. After a while I wrote him a friendly email expressing that since my original dream was very much about discomfort with how the teletubbies were being exploited, I didn’t mind him selling his own art but that I wasn’t happy with him selling plushes based on my writing.

10. He wrote back along the lines of it all being his original intellectual property and absolutely nothing to do with me, etc, so jog on and don’t interfere.

11. I’m not entirely sure where the original intellectual property is when taking BBC characters and drawing them according to someone else’s detailed description of how to “evolve” them (branching antlers, shaggy coats, eldritch screens, serene adult human faces) especially having drawn them after seeing four separate detailed reference photos to base your own drawings on; especially when they’re the existing BBC characters from the show and not even your own. Like, Jars, you were given an entire detailed brief, several sets of references, an entire concept and a television show: the only artistic choices made here were to pick up your own personal pen and do the drawing. You have never deviated from my description, which you did not come up with yourself in any way. But okay Jars. You did some real intellectual heavy lifting here, this is Intellectual Property suddenly, and I guess this is your day job!

12. I myself actually have a day job, am capable of generating lots of other original material just for funsies, have never asked you guys for money, and I’m not generally huge jerk I don’t think. Also, I’m uncomfortable but have never been clear on how to stop him - I don’t think I can. So I don’t do much about this, apart from occasionally scream with hilarity with you guys about it.

13. Like this is the opposite of Goncharov. This is a guy making his wage on a 2017 tumblr collaborative shitpost insisting that this is the beautiful fruit of his only brain. And millions of people believe him.

14. There are now YouTube documentaries with millions of views and TikTok lore about Jars, and his lore, the Elder Teletubbies, which apparently he invented. People are making their wage talking about the history of Jars and his teletubbies lore. These documentaries are, if you can’t tell, not especially well-researched, as it is not difficult to find the original elder teletubbies art on the internet, which is all timestamped. Occasionally hilarious people from Tumblr point this out in the comments (thank you, you guys are hilarious) but the juggernaut is unstoppable!

15. Jars is now, apparently, doing a kickstarter to raise money for some kind of DnD sheets using the grown up BBC teletubbies.

16. I will point out that tumblr made and played with DnD teletubbies in 2017 for free and nobody had to pay $3000, but again. The juggernaut is unstoppable.

I have never, ever known what to do about this guy.

I have always been open to advice but genuinely never been able to articulate how it “damages” me, apart from ethical discomfort about how much I hate my writing being monetised by other people, especially when it was about my discomfort with exploitation. The juggernaut is unstoppable though. He fully intends to get thousands of dollars from this. He almost certainly will!

[artist-issues]

Tell me every reason you enjoy Zootopia enough to give it all the rewatches you do.

Every? Oh boy.

Good Story

Perfect Characters

Visual Appeal

Earnestness

Let me break it down.

1. Good Story

Zootopia’s main point is: “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re fundamentally the same.”

That’s a really good main point.

It has the benefit of being true. Right now our culture is super into “self-identification,” and this crazy contrast between, “I want to be able to identify as something special” and “Now that I know what categories I fit in, I can choose who’s ‘one of us’ and who’s ’not one of us.’” Okay well that sounds pretty and I’m sure it fulfills some emotional need at some point, but it’s actually super divisive, and self-serving, and it’s the seeds for all prejudices. Including racism.

Do we have differences in origins and experiences? Yes. Of course. Do we also have some fundamental things in common? Yes. Of course. Which truth are you going to give the highest priority to? If it’s “no, I’m a prey animal, I know exactly where I belong, that’s who I am, that’s how I dress, that’s my compass for how I interact with others” then you’re getting all your security from your “sense of self,” and being able to understand what that is…which is just a fancy way of saying “I’m all about me. My own perspective informs everything I do.”

Anyway. Zootopia’s message was super true.

And the coolest thing about it is that if only Judy were in the wrong, and the other half of the dynamic duo, Nick, was this open-minded, un-prejudiced guy…and she just hurts him and has to apologize…the movie’s message wouldn’t be as well-communicated.

They have their prejudices and their hurt-from-being-prejudiced-against in common!

They’re the same…because they’ve both felt what it’s like to be treated like they’re not “the same.”

Nick isn’t the only character being mistreated and written off because of his species. The whole first half of the movie is about Judy being mistreated and written off. They think she can’t be a cop because she’s little and cute and a prey-animal. They think Nick can’t be trustworthy because he’s sneaky and small and a predator.

So literally…if Judy represented one race, and Nick represented a completely different race…the movie would be saying that both those races are discriminated against. They even have discrimination in common. AND, if Nick represented men who people make assumptions about because he’s a man, and Judy represented women who people make assumptions about because she’s a woman—the movie would be saying that both those genders are falsely judged.

I mean. Wow. Right now, your movie is either pro-woman or pro-man. Right now, your movie is either BLM or white-supremacy. Everybody’s lining up on one side of the line or the other. Zootopia says, “it doesn’t matter what character you’re looking at, from the elephant that can’t remember anything to the two main characters—every single one of them has fundamental things in common, and one of those things is that they all live like they’re in their own special category. When actually, they’re all fundamentally the same.”

I don’t want to keep beating the dead horse. But I have a post somewhere that lists every background character and points out that each animal is the exact opposite of what you would assume they are based on their animal-stereotype. The otters are never shown being playful or snuggly, only traumatized and ferocious. The cheetah is fat and slow, not quick or even quick on the uptake. Etc.

Even if you look outside of characters—look at the sets. Look at the environments. The whole city is designed “for animals, by animals.” But it’s in neat little segments. The animals organize themselves by habitat. Of course, in one sense that’s practical—the polar bears can’t live in Sahara Square, etc. but the point is, by making Judy and Nick, the main characters, small animals, in a city where everything is built to accommodate by species—UGH this is so good—they have to figure out how to problem-solve in situations that weren’t made to accommodate them.

Little Rodentia? Judy has to avoid stepping on all the mice or knocking over their buildings. Parking tickets? She has to figure out how to jump to reach bigger animals’ windshields—or she inconveniences smaller animals because the tickets are all printed at the exact same size. Stuck in a cell? The guards didn’t think about the fact that small animals can fit down the pipes made to accommodate big animals.

Zootopia is a city advertised to be where all the animals can come together. But the way they do that is by trying to accommodate every species’ preferences. So then actually while they try to come together, everything from their cars to their districts remind them of their differences. The whole idea is that they prioritize the wrong truths. Yeah, mice can’t drive giraffe cars—but they still have “driving” in common. See?

And oh my word. Initially it was supposed to be a spy story. But they changed it to a buddy cop story. Why? Well because justice doesn’t discriminate. Or at least, it’s not supposed to. So then there’s another lens to look at the story’s main theme through.

It’s just that every layer, every perspective you look at the movie from, is just hammering that truth into you: “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re fundamentally the same.”

2. Perfect Characters

Every character is so well-thought-through in this movie, even the side characters. You get the feeling you could watch a whole movie based on the side characters, because that’s the amount of love and nuance built into them.

Look at the main ones, though. Bellwhether is supposed to be soft and a follower. She’s a sheep. Instead, she’s hard and bitter—and she’s a leader. A villainous leader, but a leader, nonetheless. Even as she tries to keep animals divided based on fear of their stereotypes, she’s not fitting her own stereotype. Her voice actress has this strained, half-hoarse, but sweet voice. Like you can tell that this character has spent a lot of time under pressure and trying to manage appearances. Appearing like she’s fine, and she can handle it—until you realize that the appearance she’s really managing is “the cultural fear-based identify of the city.” They dress her in plaid and flowers and she’s a farm animal, because that’s the kind of character Judy would be most likely to trust. But she still has green eyes, and jagged teeth, so that when she does start making evil expressions there are some caricature-pieces in there that come out and accentuate that.

Nick Wilde—everybody’s favorite—is supposed to be sly and smooth and shifty. And he is. He’s a fox. But he’s also brave, helpful, and trustworthy. The first time you see him is when he’s dodging out of the way of a bigger animal ignoring him and about to run him over. Well, that’s important.

Because Judy knows what it’s like to have to get out of the way of larger animals, because they overlook her.

So right off the bat, this character she has to get along with and work with, this character who furthers her development and nails the main point, is introduced in a way that has something in common with her. But he’s also introduced in a way that gives her an opportunity to focus on a different truth—that he is different from her. Because the sheep is yelling that he’s a “fox.” Right away, we’re back to species-as-identification.

And that’s what the movie does, all the way through. It presents new animal characters, and with those new animals characters, more than one thing is true at a time. And Judy has to try to focus on which truth is more important. “Try to make the world a better place by realizing we’re all the same.” Yes, Nick is a criminal. But Nick is also brave, helpful, and eventually, becomes trustworthy.

Judy, too. Judy is an incredibly well-done character. Because she believes, in her head, that anyone can be anything—which is not what the movie ends on. In fact, she goes from saying, “anyone can be anything,” to saying, “we all have limitations.” It’s not true that a fox can be an elephant. But it is true that a fox can be trustworthy. Figure out what’s true, and try to make decisions for the better, based on that.

I could talk about character design and acting. Ginnifer Goodwin gives just the right amount of smugness and self-confidence to Judy without making her unlikeable—you don’t realize she’s smug and her self-confidence is misplaced until she does, when she fails to make the world a better place for Nick.

Judy wears tight, actionable, well-fitting uniforms for the whole movie. In her civilian clothes when she comes to Zootopia, she’s wearing athletic t-shirts and shorts. Ready for action, that’s Judy, even in her civvies. Meanwhile, Nick? Nick wears loose-fitting clothes. Loud, patterned clothes that don’t match. Like he didn’t even what, ladies and gentlemen? Like he didn’t even TRY. “Try to make the world a better place…”

Because when you meet Nick Wilde, he’s long since given up on trying, in life. So his character design reflects that. He rarely even stands up straight, or opens his eyes all the way—his default is drooping. And guess what?

When Judy “gives up?” Quits her job? Goes back home? Stops trying? Her civvies aren’t ready-for-action, trying clothes. They’re loose flannels. And her “ears are droopy.”

SERIOUSLY, you can find things like this in every corner of the movie. For every character. Not one character is a throwaway, not in voice acting, not in design, not in animation, and not in narrative.

3. Visual Appeal

Which leads me into this point—no other animated anthropomorphic animal movie is as visually appealing as Zootopia.

What Zootopia does is it matches the best of the best anthropomorphic animal designs from past Disney movies:

And they marry it with this incredible intentionality with modern CGI.

Did you know Disney invents its own software for things like fur textures?

The sheep’s wool, the velvet pig skin, the fox fur, the bunny fluff—it’s all completely different textures. There’s no one “fur” covering all the hairy mammals.

Nick isn’t just orange. He’s orange with deep red and dark tufts. Judy has black tips to her ears, too—which helps the two of them look like, in some sense, they belong “together” in every shot.

It’s so important to the movie that the animals feel like animals that they worked this hard to do this. And then that extends to the textures of the snow, the ice, the sand, the wet leaves, the grass, the fire.

Every character moves like their animal, and like themselves. Nick and Gideon are both foxes, but they don’t move similarly at all. Gideon is aggressive and glowering and physical. Nick, again, is slouchy, leans on everything, completely non-confrontational.

Other anthropomorphic animal movies like Sing or Puss in Boots—they’re not doing both as well. Zootopia is appealing, without sacrificing realism completely, and without cutting character acting.

The lighting. Nope. This post is too long, I can’t talk any more.

4. Earnestness

There is no disingenuous moment in this movie.

The animators are never lazy. They always go for the challenge. They don’t cut corners. Have you ever seen “Over the Hedge?” I like Over the Hedge. But I watched it recently and it’s crazy how many shots are strategically placed so that the animators don’t have to solve a certain effects problem.

For example, when RJ sprays Hammy with cool whip to make it look like he has rabies? He doesn’t. You never see the cool whip leave the can. It just cuts away, then cuts back when RJ is pulling the can away from his face. The shots are also cut so that you never have to see gas actually come out of Stella—and you never see Vern’s full body as he gets back into his shell, just the upper part of the shell as he wiggles it around, going through the motions of putting it back on.

That’s because that stuff would be painstaking to animate. Any time one character has to interact with props or substances (especially liquids) that are not part of their model, it’s harder on the animator.

Zootopia? We’re getting full-on views of characters getting wet, fur and all, characters touching various objects and elements, foam coming out of the mouth, new clothes, new set pieces, multiple models, huge crowd shots of different animals in different outfits, all with their own movement patterns and acting.

And all that hard work and effort, aimed so totally at the main theme of the movie? Making sure it looks as good as it can? Not just that, but the way it’s written, the acting, is so genuine. They don’t hold anything back. They don’t shy away from real emotion.

Judy Hopps’ apology scene is brutal. She’s crying, having a hard time finishing a sentence, her voice is all tight. It’s not pretty, it’s not romantic, it’s like…ugly crying. And her character is wrong in a super embarrassing way. They're not afraid to go there. The writers, the actors, the animators—they’re not afraid of being too vulnerable with these character flaws.

So many movies, especially kids’ movies today—they just pull up and shy away from being real through their characters. They think a quick sad facial expression will get the point across. And it does. The audience gets that the character feels sad about whatever the circumstance of the scene is. But not as powerfully. Because you didn’t put as much work and heart into it.

Zootopia is all heart, from work ethic to vulnerability to the filmmakers enjoying what they’re doing, enough to make it as good as it can possibly be. I can’t explain it better, other than to say, you feel like they would’ve been happy making this movie much much longer than it was. You feel like they’re cramming every bit of joy and passsion into every little joke, every side character, every hair on a CGI bear.

There you go. Long post, you did ask for it

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[ckret2]

Chapter 26 of human Bill doing his best to arm-twist his captors into doing anything he wants, featuring: the gang going to the mall, where Bill tries on some of the most ridiculous outfits known to mankind, to Mabel's delight and Stan & Dipper's despair.

(please click on the second image, you can't imagine how long it took to make those two patterns. (Okay you probably can, it was a couple hours.))

####

Bill said, "Well, you can tell Stanford that if he's got a problem with my drinking, I'd like to see him try to get a good night's sleep in an alien body without some kind of sedative! I've got a fresh new liver, three little cans of cider a day won't kill me before one of us finds a way to get me out of this body!"

Exasperated, Mabel said, "Why do I have to tell him? Just talk to each other."

"You think I don't want to? He's the one who's put two doors, an elevator, and a trick vending machine between him and me."

Mabel supposed that was true. "Okay, fine. More importantly: what do you think of going shopping?"

Bill shrugged. "Sure. I'll take any opportunity to go outside. It'll be a good test run for other trips."

Mabel frowned, clearly disappointed by the reaction. "That's it? I thought you'd be more excited. You can finally get more clothing!"

"How much clothing do I need?" He gestured down at himself, wearing his hoodie and a borrowed skirt. "I'm not naked, what more do you want from me?"

"To like your clothing!"

"Oh, right. I keep forgetting you have a whole thing about people other than you being happy."

Mabel socked his arm. "Do you just not care about clothes? I didn't expect you to be like Dipper about it."

Eugh. "It's not that I don't like fashion in general," Bill said, eager to distance himself from the household wet blanket. "I have very strong opinions on other people's fashion! It's just..."

It was just that he didn't relish the idea of standing in front of a mirror, partially nude, staring at the bone-caged skin prison he was locked inside.

He still put towels over the bathroom mirror when he showered.

"Well," he said, "isn't the whole point of fashion self-expression? And my self can't be expressed in this body." He tugged on the collar of his hoodie, "This is as close as it's gonna get."

"Does clothing have to express your self? Can't it just look really cool?" Mabel asked.

Bill considered that. "I do like looking really cool."

Maybe he didn't have to see it as dressing himself. Treat it like inflicting his design whims upon a helpless human puppet. He'd done that before, he liked doing that. He was lucky, at least, that as far as puppets went, this was an incredibly good-looking one. Aside from the neck.

"Do I have to wear that, though?" Bill skeptically eyed the knit garment held in Mabel's hands.

"Yep! Grunkle Ford's orders! It's to make sure you don't talk to people."

"Can I put it on over my hoodie?"

"As heartwarming as it is that you love it so much: no, you've gotta take it off."

"How come?"

"It's safer this way! Your hoodie might freak people out."

"Freak them out how?"

####

Soos trudged into the kitchen at 3 a.m., yawning, and turned on the lights.

The Bill Cipher, triangular and angular, gold-bricked and one-eyed, hovered in the air.

Soos screamed. "He's back! Everyone watch out! You stay away from my family, you—" Soos picked up the nearest weapon and chucked it at Bill.

The spatula bounced harmlessly off his chest and clattered to the floor. Bill took his hood off. "Wow. Thanks for getting my hopes up, Questiony."

"Oh, whoops. Sorry 'bout that. At a quick glance, that hoodie makes you look a lot like... you." Soos looked Bill up and down again. "Hey. How come you're standing on the kitchen table in the middle of the night?"

"Eh." Bill shrugged. "It passes the time."

####

"Sometimes I curse your species's overactive pattern-detection instincts." Bill snatched Mabel's offering out of her hand and trudged to the bathroom to change.

He emerged a moment later wearing the tank top Mabel had knit for him, and tugged out the hem to examine it. She'd cross-stitched on the chest: "STAY BACK! I BITE SALES PEOPLE!"

"I'd be pretty insulted," Bill said, "if this wasn't the funniest thing I've ever worn."

####

Stan pulled the old Diablo near the porch to minimize the amount of time Bill would spend in open air between confinement in the shack and in a vehicle; then waited leaning against the car, glowering at the ground like the world's surliest chauffeur (he'd even put on his suit), for Dipper and Mabel to escort the prisoner outside.

The second Bill stepped off of the porch, he looked up in amazement. "What is that?"

Dipper and Mabel looked at Bill's face, then in the direction he was looking. He was staring straight into the sun without squinting. Mabel said, "The... sun?"

"No, not the sun! I mean the—" Bill gestured toward the sun. "Whatever it's doing."

Mabel looked skyward again. She didn't see anything else Bill could be referring to. "Shining?"

"I know what sunshine is!"

"Then what are you asking about!"

Bill studied the sky a moment longer. Finally, he said, "Guess I don't know what sunshine feels like! It's been a long time since I've been naked in the sun."

Stan's head snapped up to stare at Bill. Bill was still completely clothed.

After another few seconds, arms outstretched, staring in blank-faced wide-eyed wonder at the sky, Bill concluded, "I think I'm photosynthesizing again."

This time Dipper looked over. And, Bill was still completely human—a species notoriously well-known for not photosynthesizing. "'Again'?"

Bill didn't respond. Instead, with a shrill cackle that startled the nearby birds out of the trees, he took off at a full sprint.

"Hey!" Dipper tore after him. Stan tensed up, but then grunted, leaned back against his car, and waited for Bill to trip.

Bill's run was the awkward bouncing gait of a moon astronaut on fast forward: someone who at some point had definitely learned how to run, but clearly wasn't used to doing it in this body on this world. He switched to an odd sideways crab-walk gallop—which was, surprisingly, faster—and then attempted, and failed, a cartwheel. Dipper dove for Bill, Stan laughed at them both, and Mabel shouted encouragement at Bill from the porch; Bill hopped back up just before Dipper could catch him.

He attempted a second cartwheel but was caught in the middle by an invisible force jerking his wrist. He yelped and tumbled to the ground. "I think I twisted my arm!" He sounded way too giddy about this.

Mabel looked down at her own wrist and the chain bracelet. She wasn't being actively pulled toward Bill; but nevertheless she couldn't pull her wrist any further away from him. "It worked."

"Of course it did!" Breathing heavily, Bill got to his feet and leaned backward on his heels, using the tension of the bracelet around his wrist to keep from falling. "What, did you ever doubt me?"

"Yes," Stan said. "Always," Dipper said. "Every time you open your mouth," Mabel said.

"You're all haters."

Mabel took a flying leap off of the porch. Bill toppled on his back again.

Once they were all loaded in the car—Dipper in the front glaring in the rear view mirror, Mabel and Bill in the back with Bill making faces at the mirror—Stan said, "Okay. I'm not getting you anything nice, because you're not worth it."

"Aww. And after I made you almost five grand?"

Dipper's jaw dropped. "He what?! When did—"

Raising his voice, Stan went on, "So we're going to Shop Thrifty. Any complaints?"

Bill said, "You don't wanna go there."

Stan turned to give him a dark look.

"You don't," Bill said. "They were robbed this weekend. Security's gonna be high."

"No they weren't, you can't know that. You're making that up. I'm calling your bluff."

Dipper cleared his throat. "Actually... yeah, they were robbed. I've been investigating the possibility that it might've been..." At the sight of Bill's keen gaze in the rear view mirror, Dipper trailed off into mumbles.

Bill waited a second longer to ensure Dipper was properly cowed; then said, "See? You can trust me! But if you want to go to the thrift shop..."

"Ha." Stan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel; then reluctantly said, "I guess we could go to the mall—"

Mabel pumped her fists in the air. "THE MALL!"

"Yes! Finally!" Bill dragged his hands down his face in relief. "Civilization! Other people!"

"Hey!" Stan turned around to point threateningly at Bill. Bill held up his hands to block the accusatory finger. "This still isn't a social trip. Talk to anyone and we're going back to the car."

"I know, I know. I just wanna look at people. That's all!" Bill said. "You know that feeling when you come out of a couple weeks in the hole? When you're grateful just to see anybody?"

Stan's frown deepened; but he didn't say anything. He just turned around, ignored Dipper's curious look, and started driving.

Mabel and Bill high-fived.

####

As the car pulled into a parking spot, Mabel handed Bill a pair of mirrored sunglasses with one lens popped out. Bill rolled his (yellow, slitted) eye, but he switched his eyepatch over to the lensless side of the sunglasses and put them on. "Nobody'll notice my eyes. They only look inhuman at certain angles."

"We're being extra cautious," Mabel said.

"If you're gonna make me wear shades any time I'm in public, can I at least pick a pair I like while I'm here?"

Mabel said, "Sure!" at the same time Stan said, "Not a chance." Dipper looked between the two of them, and said, "I'm with Stan."

"I wasn't taking a vote." Bill leaned forward to shove Dipper's hat over his eyes, and followed Mabel out of the car before Dipper could retaliate.

Bill's grin got a little wider and his gait a little bouncier the closer they got to the mall, until he was practically skipping through the automatic doors. "Look at this place! I can't remember the last time I visited a bazaar this booming in person! Two stories, even! Wow!"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Gravity Malls was, by far, the smallest mall either of them had ever visited. You could see from one end of it to the other in a straight shot, and the anchor store was just a more popular chain's discount outlet location. Dipper muttered, "He's trying too hard to talk up the place."

Mabel giggled. "Maybe he's easily impressed."

Bill evidently didn't care. He was too busy taking in the sight of all the stores and all the people who didn't hate his guts (or, at least, didn't know they did). He chipperly said, "Hey there!" as he wove around a haggard teenage kiosk salesman.

"Hello?" Snapping into sales mode, the kiosk kid said, "Are you interested in genuine gold-plated signet rings? We have rings with dragons, eagles, Chinese characters, American flags, football teams..."

Bill did a u-turn without slowing down. "Boy, am I! You got any secret societies?"

Stan wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders—"No, you're not interested."—and dragged him away. He lowered his voice. "What happened to no talking to anyone?"

Bill laughed. "Sorry, I got excited!"

"Uh-huh. Get 'excited' one more time, and I'll assume you're 'forgetting' the rules on purpose and we're going home."

Bill stopped laughing. "Okay, fine." He trudged alongside Stan, sulking.

####

Stan tried to direct them toward the discount outlet store; Bill looked wistfully at Edgy On Purpose; Mabel overruled them both by grabbing Bill's hand and bodily dragging him to the coolest store in the mall: 18th Century, the place where the almost-and-barely college kids shopped, and Mabel's newest fashion avatars now that she'd had a year to explore "teenage" fashion and had gotten over it. "You can tell it's for college kids, because they also sell bedsheets and inflatable furniture," she explained as they entered, just before abandoning Bill with Stan as she ran off to start collecting clothing on Bill's behalf. Bill and Stan side-eyed each other, and Bill drifted off toward the small home goods section.

"Ooh, Dipper look." Mabel pointed at a sales rack. "Out-of-season prom dresses! Those are the fanciest dresses!" She dove in eagerly, checking the size tags.

Dipper hovered behind her, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying to stand far enough away that it didn't look like he was an active participant in this shopping trip but not so far away that people might start wondering why a thirteen-year-old boy was in the dress section by himself. "Are you shopping for B—for Goldie, or for yourself?"

"For Goldie, obviously! He likes having a triangular silhouette, he needs dresses!"

"Does he want dresses?"

Mabel made a vague I dunno sound. "I haven't asked him yet."

"Maybe you should?"

"It's fine, I'm going to! He can tell me when he catches up!" Mabel pulled out a sequin-studded dress that looked like it had been constructed out of fluorescent pink peacock feathers. She paused. "Okay, it's not exactly his style, but do you think he might try it on anyway?"

Dipper groaned. "Mabel, he's a guy, he's not gonna try on a dress. He wears top hats and bow ties, remember?"

"I know, but... just for fun...?"

Dipper shook his head. Mabel sighed.

Bill rounded a rack of clothing, using a curtain rod he'd claimed out of the home goods section like it was a cane. "Hey, star girl. I know we're here on a focused mission, buuut do you think we could spare a minute to try something just for fun..." He trailed off as he and Mabel simultaneously realized they were both holding a pink peacock dress. Bill's face lit up. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up! How are you this cool!"

"Where's the dressing room."

They took off for the back of the store, Bill tripping over a whole clothing rack as he went.

Dipper watched them uncomfortably, decided he didn't want to follow, and picked his way to the front of the store, where Stan was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed tightly and a sour look on his face. Dipper asked, "Does it worry you how well Mabel and Goldie..."

"Ohhh yeah."

####

Bill swung open the dressing room door. "Well? Whaddaya think?" He fanned out the feathers as best he could with his hands. 

"It's so beautiful," Mabel said.

"It's hideous," Stan said.

"It's kinda baggy around the shoulders and chest," Dipper said.

Bill shrugged. "I've got the shoulder span of a snake and the hips of a sumo wrestler, what do you expect?"

"It's okay, I can tailor anything we get," said Mabel, who had never tailored anything in her life but was sure she had a book on it in Piedmont.

"Tailor nothing," Stan said, "we're not getting this! What, are you crazy?"

Bill said, "Obviously."

Stan gestured at him. "What in the world would you wear this for?"

"Who cares? It looks cool and this body is merely a meat armature to drape coolness upon." Bill stepped back into the dressing room to eye the dress in the mirror. "Color's a little uniform, though. I'd need some accessories to break it up."

"I think you're right," Mabel said, stroking her chin. "You know what color goes best with hot pink?"

Simultaneously, she and Bill said, "Lime green," then cracked up and pointed at each other excitedly. 

Stan and Dipper exchanged a tired look.

####

"How about this one?" Bill looked at Stan and Dipper, who were standing guard while Mabel searched for more clothes. "It's obviously the best shirt in the store, but is it me?" Bill was wearing a loose Hawaiian shirt covered in bright multicolored triangles with animal skin patterns—leopard, zebra, tiger, checkers—and a pair of black jeans that fit his hips but consequently drowned his ankles. "Trick question. It's me all over!" He laughed. His laughter petered out. "It's... it's more me than I am. Wow."

Dipper and Stan didn't laugh. "I'm a Hawaiian shirt kind of man," Stan said, "but if the choice was between that thing and going naked, I'd go naked."

"Keep your nudist fantasies to yourself, Stanley." Bill studied his reflection again. "The shirt's great, but they make the pants look dull. I need something that coordinates with it. But what..."

Mabel returned while Bill was musing on his shirt. She wordlessly held out the pair of cheetah/tiger print rainbow leggings she'd been retrieving. It matched the shirt perfectly, in the sense that they both had so many colors on them that inevitably some of those colors were accidentally the same.

Bill accepted the leggings with an expression close to awe. "You're a fashion genius," he said. "Are you sure you don't want your own planet?"

"Not from you," Mabel said.

And for a moment, Bill actually almost looked hurt.

####

Bill held up several shirts thoughtfully. The first was an eye-searing abomination; the second was a retina-burning nightmare; and the third was about the same, but it was covered in smiley faces, and somehow that made it worse.

"I feel like they'd all have the right psychological effect on my enemies," Bill said, "but all three is a little redundant, isn't it?"

Not looking, Stan asked, "Is the effect you're trying to have boring your enemies to death? Because it's working."

Bill scowled. He chucked all three at Stan's face. "Fine! Stick them in the 'maybe' pile, I'll narrow them down later." By this point, the "maybe" pile in Stan's arms was almost too big for him to carry.

"My willingness to indulge Mabel is losing to my annoyance at indulging you," Stan said. "I thought this was going to be a quick trip."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda getting into it."

"Well, would you get out of it and dress like a normal person?"

"Okay, fine. I'll try on something subtle—"

"Goldie!" Mabel ran up waving a ruby red jacket over her head. "Look what I found in the clearance bin! Glittery vinyl!"

Bill's eyes widened.

Reverently, Mabel said, "It looks like a 50's diner booth."

"Is the picture on the back a—?"

"Yeah, it's a puking kangaroo."

Bill snatched the jacket from her hands. "I'll try something subtle after this."

Stan groaned. "I'm gonna stretch my legs." He dropped the "maybe" pile on the floor. "Dipper, make sure the demon doesn't try to end the world while I'm gone."

Dipper resigned himself to the fact that this shopping trip was never going to end, and curled up on the floor to wait to die.

####

"Now, this is a keeper," Bill said, examining the summer dress in the mirror. With Stan gone, Bill had a moment of leisure to properly inspect the way the fabric moved and draped. He was using the opportunity to grab the skirt and twirl it like a three-year-old who'd never worn a dress before. "It really speaks to me."

Mabel asked, "Is it because it's covered in—?"

"It's because it's covered in yellow triangles. I know what I like!" He spun around to see how the skirt flared out, tripped and fell over—"I meant to do that!"—and heaved himself back upright with his curtain rod cane. "I'm fine, shoo." He waved off Mabel's attempt to help, and brushed off the dress. "Too bad it looks weird with pants. I'd prefer my legs covered, but dresses are the only thing most human stores carry that flatter my shape, so what're you gonna do."

"What about more leggings?" Mabel asked.

"Do they have any black ones that don't look like cheap spandex?"

"I think I saw some that look like jeans!"

"It'll do. Good thinking, star girl."

"Any time, triangle... guy." Mabel paused. "Hey... just out of curiosity—since I don't think we ever really covered this, since you're an alien and all—aaare you a guy or a girl?"

"I'm a triangle! C'mon, you already know that."

Mabel opened her mouth to protest that Bill hadn't answered her question; hesitated as she realized that maybe, in fact, he had; and instead asked, "Is a triangle more like a guy or a girl?"

Bill paused as he gave the question a moment of contemplation; and then he said, "No, not really."

Dipper, who'd been using the "maybe" clothing pile as a pillow and pretending to ignore everything Bill did, finally gave in to the urge to glance over curiously.

Mabel concluded a triangle must be either in the exact middle of the scale, or else outside of it completely. "Oh! Okay."

Bill elbowed Mabel and said, "Keep this bit between you and me," blithely ignoring the fact that Dipper was totally within earshot and now seething about being ignored in return. "But if anyone else on this planet asks, I'll usually imply I'm a 'man,'" he put the word in finger quotes, as though he wasn't wholly convinced that "men" really existed, "but—that's strictly for business."

"Business?"

"You know, work stuff," Bill said dismissively. "It makes things easier. See, for the last few millennia, most humans have taken a male's suggestions a bit more seriously than a female's, even when the entity they're talking to is an all-knowing extra-dimensional divine alien angelic muse. Crazy, right?" He said this like he was imparting some great secret he'd figured out by himself.

"Ugh, yeah," Mabel groaned. "Sexism."

"Sexism," Bill sighed, as if he had any dog in this fight at all and wasn't just pretending he could commiserate with his only local friend. "So I figure I can get things done faster as a Bill than a Jill. But honestly? Your local gender system doesn't make any more difference to me than it would to you if somebody asked how many sides you have."

Mabel considered the matter of her hypothetical sides. "I feel like I'd have seven sides."

"Oho! I stand corrected." Bill laughed. "I would've pegged you as a pentagon. I'll remember that."

Mabel had no idea what information she'd just conveyed to Bill, but she felt like he was impressed she had an answer at all.

####

"How about this one?"

"I love it. It's so mysterious," Mabel said.

Stan said, "I thought you were gonna try on something subtle?" 

"What's more subtle than camo! That's the whole point of it!"

Dipper said, "You're not wearing camo."

Bill looked down at his galaxy print tank top, galaxy print button up, galaxy print skirt, galaxy print leggings, and galaxy print sneakers. "I guess what counts as camouflage depends on the context."

"Wh—" Dipper blinked at Bill in disbelief. "In what context could this possibly qualify as camouflage?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Drily, Stan asked, "You got travel plans taking you to outer space anytime soon, pal?"

Bill's shoulders slumped.

"Now put on something you might actually wear," Stan said.

####

Bill opened the dressing room door with four sets of basic black leggings and pants, a couple shorts, and several plain tops in various shades of gold and yellow. "Okay, done."

"Not gonna model each of these for us?" Stan asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Fine! You kids don't need to weigh in on these—they're not as fun as the other outfits you were busy unappreciating." Bill shoved the whole pile against Stan's chest, burying the "maybe" outfits he'd insisted he would narrow down. "Okay, let's go."

Stan scowled. "How many outfits did we agree to get you?"

"You didn't." Bill headed to the front of the store.

Mabel started to follow him, paused, glanced back at Stan, and said, "Maybe you can just... toss some of it back on the racks?"

"Maybe you can toss most of it," Dipper said. "How much does he really need, like two shirts and two pants?"

Mabel laughed. "Shut up, that's what you wear!"

Stan rolled his eyes, but headed to the front of the store with an armload of clothing.

The cashier smiled as Bill approached, read his "I BITE SALES PEOPLE" shirt, and quickly turned her attention to Stan. "Hi! Did you find everything you needed?"

"Yeah, and then some," he grumbled, shooting a look at Bill and Mabel. He dumped the pile of clothing on the counter with a heavy groan proportionate to the emotional weight of carrying Bill Cipher's shopping, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Where'd I put my wallet?"

As the cashier scanned the clothes, took off the security tags, and stuffed them into bags, Stan alternated between snatching up the bags to sling them over his arms—looking grumpier with each one—and searching for his wallet. "I'm sure I put... ah-ha!" He withdrew it triumphantly. "There! I know I've got a twenty in here somewhere."

The cashier immediately stopped scanning to give Stan a perplexed look. Hopefully, she asked, "Will you be paying for the rest by card?"

"What do you mean, 'the rest'? How much could this stuff—?" Stan grabbed the price tag on one of the shirts, squinted at it, and grabbed his chest. "Holy moly! For one shirt? This is robbery!"

Mabel winced. "I guess it's a little bit pricier than the thrift shop, but it's not that bad—is it?"

"Not that bad?! For prices like this, it'd be cheaper to get a boat ticket to Taiwan and rob the sweatshop where they sew this stuff! Forget it!" He started sliding bags off his arms and tossing them back on the counter. "Keep them! We're not shopping here!"

"But Grunkle Stan!" Mabel grabbed his coat. "We just found a bunch of stuff that's perfect for Goldie! Please?"

"Do you think I care? He'd be wearing potato sacks if I had my way! We'll go to the outlet store, those are the prices he deserves."

Dipper groaned. "Do we have to do this whole thing all over again?" He and Mabel both looked pleadingly at Bill, waiting for him to protest the return of his carefully-curated wardrobe of tacky golden horrors.

Bill shrugged. "If he didn't bring enough money to the mall, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Hey! This isn't on me! If it wasn't for you, we'd be at the Shop Thrifty right now!"

Bill scoffed. "Come on, Stanley. It's the 2010's. Even at a thrift store, how far do you think a Jackson's gonna carry you?"

"I think it'd get me a sock I could cram in your mouth, how do you like that?" Stan tossed the last bag on the counter, told the dismayed cashier, "And he looked ugly in everything he picked out, anyway," and stomped toward the door.

"I'm so sorry," Mabel said to the cashier, and hurried after Stan with Dipper. "But Grunkle Stan, we found so many nice things here! We could at least get a couple shirts or leggings..."

"Hey," Bill said. "It's okay, kid."

Mabel shut her mouth, but she didn't look happy about it.

The party trailed behind Stan past a couple of stores, before Bill sped up to walk alongside him and asked, "Well? What's our haul?"

Stan grunted. "What?"

A slow, sly grin spread across Bill's face. "Come on. You can fool the humans, but you can't fool me. What's our haul?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Bill raised a brow.

Stan only lasted a couple of seconds before he cracked a mischievous smile as well. "Oh, did you mean this haul?" He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a pair of leggings. And then another pair. And then, from his other pocket, a Hawaiian shirt. And—

Mabel gasped. "Grunkle Stan," she hissed. "You didn't!"

"Aw, man." Dipper smacked his forehead. "So all that was an act?"

—and three pairs of socks out of his jacket sleeve, and a dress from his inner coat pocket, and— "Yeeep. I've still got it."

Mabel and Dipper exchanged an exasperated look.

"And you were gonna hit the thrift store." Bill lifted his sunglasses so Stan could see him roll his eye.

"Hey, they've usually got less security than the mall. It's a safer score."

"Cheaper, too."

"You shut up! I'd like to see you do as well."

A bright smile snapped across Bill's face. "Would you! Then get a load of this—" He showed off the front and back of one empty hand, then the other; curled one into a fist; pushed his fingers into the fist and plucked out a corner of fabric; and then, like a magician revealing a long line of scarves tied at the corners, pulled out one garment after another, shirts and skirts and pants. Mabel buried her face in her hands. Dipper looked around like he expected mall security to run up and immediately arrest them all. Bill said, "What'd we lift, almost half the stuff I picked? Neither of us managed to get the kangaroo jacket, did we."

"How did you..." Stan trailed off, jaw dropped.

Bill smugly stuffed the clothing back under his tank top. "All that, and... these." Bill lifted one foot and wiggled it, showing off the yellow foam clogs he'd changed into.

"You just walked out with those on?"

"Sure! You'd be amazed what you can do in plain sight—as long as you don't call attention to it."

"Where the heck are your sandals?"

"Not my problem." Bill gestured vaguely back toward 18th Century with his curtain rod cane. "From the lost-and-found they came, to the lost-and-found they shall return."

Stan, having had his attention called to the curtain rod cane, snatched it out of Bill's hand with a muttered "No weapons," and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Bill watched it go with an expression of miffed resignation. Stan said, "Okay, but how'd you get the security tags off all of those?"

And Bill's grin was back. "Maybe I'll show you—if you show me how you got all that clothing out of those bags into your pockets."

"I thought you were watching."

"My eye is better than my physical coordination. Give me a couple pointers and I'll give you a couple."

Stan looked doubtful. "I just saw you hide half a suitcase under a tank top. I don't think you need any more help with..."

"I'll sweeten the deal," Bill said. "I'm not really a clogs guy. You set me up to walk out with a pair of proper dress shoes, and I'll help you grab a couple rings from that booth at the door?"

Stan scowled. Bill grinned wider. "Come ooon. I know you were eyeing those rings too."

"If we get caught and you throw me under the bus, I'm dragging you down with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it! I don't think either of us can afford to show up on the police's radar, do you?"

"All right, fine. You've got yourself a deal, Cipher."

Mabel silently slid her cell phone over to Dipper so he could text Soos and Ford about this unsettling development.

####

(Thanks for reading!! As always, if you made it this far I deeply appreciate any thoughts & comments you want to share! Stay tuned next week for the unsettling development to get Even Worse.)

[cynautica]

i remembered i can just make stuff up (stream sketches + scrapped designs)

uhhhh quick fire for the second image from left to right juvenile vessel - old world cable maintenance - artistic diplomat vessel

Headcanons below the cut:

(Im not kidding word counter marked this as a 5 minute reading time open at your own risk)

While the sentiment of the architect network as "a thousand strings in a melody, not one louder than the rest" is a poetic interpretation of the network, it is not necessarily reflective of the precursors society as a whole.

At its peak, the species span billions of planets with billions on billions of individuals, all with their own degrees of autonomy and divergence. If each architect is equal in its power, than it is equal in its power to choose. Even if the soul of an architect, its very essence and its personality, is designed so perfectly that its primary desire is the perpetuation of order and advancement (two inherently divergent concepts), faults occur. Breakages occur. Pockets, cultural subsets, faded transmissions, and any other element of lost insight be it archaic or modern, lends itself to the impossibility of an entirely homogeneous society.

Whether a hive minded society reflects the only means to perfection is debatable, but its important to remember that our main portal in to the precursor world is Al-an, a known prodigy born and raised in to a society that has done nothing but benefit him. His view of his people is intrinsically skewed. He has never had a reason to see beyond the propaganda, nor question his directives. They have never once failed him.

But what of the little guys? The constructed failures so to speak. Those destined to be cast in to the bowels of poisonous cobalt mines and those who's birth purpose is to be irradiated and isolated for the greater good of the collective. Those who's genes prompted sub-standard intelligence who will never be seen as truly important. Their needs must be cast aside by design for the greater good of the collective. By design they must be ignored, their thoughts not relevant to the forwarding of progress.

Because there is true power disparity there is a true hierarchy.

Aware of this, the precursors devised a system of checks and balances to ensure that scientific progress remains at the forefront, rather than the accumulation of power by any individual.

As with all things though, power inevitably seeks to maintain and grow like a cancer.

One such exertion of power comes in the form of a "hive master". These unique individuals require precise expensive machinery in order to be produced, and as such are very rare. The vessels they require are likewise uniquely suited to only these hive masters and their unique ability to sway the voices and personality of any individual connected to the network. They themselves are invisible, completely undetectable except in physical form. Their unique telepathic abilities only work when paired with these vessels. They have no voice nor will of their own and are said to represent architect society on its most basal level.

Given their difficult to produce nature established personalities are very often used in place of new seed combinations. Personalities most suited for repurposing as a hive master include those who are most senior, intelligent, and aligned wholly with societal goals.

They are typically only found on heavily populated planets with more than a few thousand individuals. There they go undetected, like the sound of wind lost in a sea of voices, whose squall directs its very rampage. They are also enlisted for many unique duties on populous planets, such as the refactoring of corrupted individuals and silencing cultural sub-sets.

The average architect probably isn't even aware of the existence of a hive master unless their profession lies in the refactoring and diplomatic processes.

Despite the cultural drive for a monotonous and orderly society, artistic expression is common and encouraged in some sects. All architects possess the desire to express themselves, similarly to humans. Some do this simply with their inbuilt biolights that vary naturally with the individual, while others (less commonly) modify their vessel or design new and unique ones for themselves.

A vessel after all is a costly investment you cant just change like the season, its built to last you a couple thousand years. It's only natural that some seek to don something unique.

This behavior is sometimes detested by more traditional architects, but is not universally frowned upon.

Diplomats are actually encouraged to take on more artistically designed vessels. Often with their respective species' artistic values in mind. They've found greater success with alliances when they don't look like massive sticks in the mud.

Subsets of culture also at times develop unique vessels. Such as an order-over-progress movement that developed on the fringes of the network and preferred pie-bald esque vessels. Alternatively in the past as wars waged between the architects the opposing sides often don differing forms to show their allegiances. In more recent history, a wave of white-clad vigilantes advocated for a complete reset of the old-world collective.

Aside from artistic and affiliation vessels, mainstream precursor society also used a series of varying vessels to reflect personal occupation. Some of the most notable included the warrior vessel, who by design met the largest accommodations of standard architecture for the purposes of intimidation and physical altercations. Al-an's vessel likewise is very common as a heavier-built variant meant to face harsh outer worlds such as 4546B. On base, more light and energy efficient vessels make the dominant force where defense isn't a huge priority.

Microvessels such as those seen above in grey are fairly uncommon despite their energy efficiency. They are most efficient on old world planets that have been in development for hundreds of thousands of years, where the march of time means that not all builders past and present were on the same wavelength and as such small and precise forms mean that construction can be completed with minimal risk to crowded infrastructure.

Another unique and uncommon vessel is that of a juvenile grow-out vessel. These are seldom customized beyond survival needs, and are designed to acclimate a freshly generated architect to the physical world. Like a living vessel, they grow with the individual starting from broodling all the way until young adulthood. They tend to be a bit clumsy and lack the ability to interface with most technology. Always running a blue biolight, these vessels to not require a lot of energy to function physically. A juvenile architect must prove its maturity before it is allowed to graduate in to an adult vessel. This change-out phase is a diplomatic process and one can sometimes wait many years before being approved in to maturity.

The treatment of a new architect varies quite significantly depending on their birthplace and genotype. High performing juveniles are singled out very quickly for better education. Despite the rarity of surviving children in architect society they are not given much importance. A single broodmother may be the ward of up to fifty broodlings, each of which given little attention in favor of allowing them to develop social skills among themselves. Despite architect's seeming infinite power to control resources, broodling mortality is surprisingly high.

[abductedlawnchair]

*ranting and raving and stomping on rooftops and flailing my arms about* HUMANS ARE AMIMALS!!! WE ARE ANIMALS!!! QUIT ACTING LIKE WE'RE NOT!!!

I am so goddamn tired of society acting like we're not!!! I am so goddamn tired of us as a society acting like we are above all the other animals!!! I do not care that we are the apex!!! We are fucking ANIMALS!!! Like, just take a step back and observe us like we have our own nature documentary on Nat Geo or something. Maybe with David Attenborough or whatever, idc. Just imagine it.

We are a species of apes that just so happened to gain the ability of extremely complex and abstract thought, capability of language, an almost absurd level of self-awareness, and the type of intelligence that allowed us to discover, invent, and develop tools. A species of apes that just so happen to have such a crazy level of curiosity that we have the capability to learn about the world around us, and beyond.

The way we learn and develop is fascinating. If you observe a toddler from that standpoint, watching them interact with the world around them, you'd see how natural curiosity is to us, in our human nature. Neil deGrasse Tyson has literally said that children are beings of chaos because they're curious and learning about the world around them.

We all have children in us, just like we have our ancestors in us!!! Our brains are wired like theirs. Relatively, we have been in this state of society for an extremely short amount of time!! Our brains and nervous systems are still wired to survive and keep us safe from predators and other dangers!!

We are social creatures!! We need love and connection to survive!! We can't do things on our own. The only reason we ever got to where we are is because we work together and communicate and share knowledge. The way society is right now is too isolating!! Humans aren't meant to be fighting for a place in society!! Haven't you seen zookeepers?? Or anyone who cares for nature in any capacity?? We have an incredible capacity for compassion and caretaking, because we have the capability to know and understand the inner workings of ourselves and countless other species!! Caretaking and compassion is literally an innate human trait!! We're supposed to take care of each other and the world around us!! We literally are capable of pack bonding with ROOMBAS, for fucks sake!! Little robots that our ape brains see moving around on its own, being part of our homes, and thinks "little guy is alive... I love him"!!! Isn't that beautiful???

We were an evolution of Mother Earth, Herself, to grow Her and expand Her and care for Her!!! Whether you believe in intelligent design or just the absurdity of it all, it still happened like that. We have the capacity to care for Her in an evolved level, yet we're fucking it up so badly right now.

Indigenous cultures have always been on the right track. They've always been right about this. They have always known that we are all pieces of the same organism, just like the atoms and cells and organs and electricity in your body are all part of one body!!

And btw, culture is another HUGE part of us being social creatures!! Being expressive and creative and connected!! That's part of our nature!! We're meant to sing and dance and laugh together!! That connectivity of us being a collective is So Important!!! Making fun of people for being "sheep", or having "herd mentality" every single time is so stupid because yes!!! Yes that's EXACTLY how we are supposed to be!!! We are social creatures, remember?? The whole point is that we do things together!!!

I know how society is rn isn't the end all, be all, but it just breaks my heart that this Capitalism shit goes against some of the most beautiful parts of humanity!! We are animals!!! We are cute and curious and compassionate and social and we need warmth and sunlight and sustenance from the earth and water and sleep and shelter from the elements!! We have instincts just like everything else!! We came from the dust and we will return to the dust because we will always be part of the Earth, just like all the other animals!! And somehow, despite all odds, despite how robotic Capitalism wants us to be, our human nature seeps into everything.

Take care of yourself! You are an animal, after all! <3

*climbs off rooftop... for now*

[thezombieprostitute]

Unwanted - Part 6

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors used.

A/N2: This series is revived thanks to @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge. The prompt: Sharing New Traditions.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

It's taken about a week but you tell Natasha you think you're ready to meet some other people. She promises to start with just one person, Sam, her Beta and the Community Manager. While Steve and Nat could work well with small groups, Sam could work with just about any size group and had the ability to coordinate packs and keep the community running, if not thriving. Nat's pretty sure it's part of why the three of them make for such a good pack together, they compliment each other's strengths and make up for their short comings.

"You're actually arriving at a good time," Sam tells you. "We're getting ready for our Solstice Celebration. It'll be a good way to introduce you to the community."

"Won't that be a little overwhelming?" Nat asks on your behalf.

"If she were a part of the celebration, sure." Sam turns to you, "the majority of the community will be dancing and singing in celebration of the days getting longer. But, if you're okay with it, we'll have you with the kids who are still learning the steps and the words."

You nod, not bothered at all by being put with the kids. It's been forever since you've interacted with any and, even before the operation, you enjoyed taking care of them.

"With everyone's focus on the celebration, it should be easier on you," Sam continues. "You'll be meeting a lot of people, yes, but you won't have everyone's attention."

Nat nods in her understanding, "good play, Sam."

Sam winks at her and she smiles. Even if you didn't know they were mates their behavior would have given it away. They're actually very sweet together.

"Will I need to wear anything specific? Do I need to cook? What all is expected of me?" You mentally start going through your meager possessions trying to think of what might be appropriate.

"Maybe in the old days," Sam tells you. "But we've adapted to the times, and not just for the sake of those who weren't born into this life." You give him a puzzled look and he explains, "it seems like ever since humans found out people like us exist they've been trying to figure us out, experimenting on us, and the like. Nat, Steve and Bucky, who you'll meet later, were all natural born like myself but they got operated on 'for science' or other such bullshit." He squeezes Nat's hand as she snuggles against him.

"And then there are cases, like you, where some of our own, in a misguided attempt to save our species, have made others to be like us. Usually they result in betas, but you're existence is evidence that they're getting better at controlling designations."

You face drops a little as you absentmindedly start rubbing on the scars on your neck. Two mating glands forced into your neck and two scent glands forced into your wrists. All of them pumping you full of unknown hormones that caused changes that even more surgeries helped make permanent.

Your thoughts are interrupted by two pairs of arms holding you tight. "Sorry about that," Sam hurriedly apologizes. "I didn't mean to spark the bad memories. Just wanted to let you know you're not alone while giving you some answers for what to expect."

"I understand," you nod.

Nat interjects, "I'm still willing to hit him if you want me to."

That makes you laugh, and they let go of you as they continue talking about the Solstice Event.

Sure enough, your presence at the Solstice Event is met with great acclaim, but it's in bits and pieces as everyone is busy with preparations. The only person who doesn't leave you alone is a little girl named Grace. She's excited she's not the oldest person sticking around the kids.

"I'm already 11," she tells you. "If Papa had been able to bring me here sooner, maybe I'd be with the other middle-schoolers."

"Why isn't your Papa here learning as well?"

"He was accepted into the packs several years ago. It's only recently that he was able to bring me in."

"I wonder why that is," you muse.

"It's because I'm an outsider," Grace grumbles. "Papa was taken when I was little. Apparently he was like you, and they hurt him. But he ended up here! And he met Curtis, my new Dad! So now I have two parents again! But Papa says he had to fight to get me here because I'm...I'm not..." You interrupt Grace with a big hug and she seems to settle down. "Are...are you purring?" She gasps.

The realization startles you. You didn't even know you could do that! Yet you both know that's what you were doing.

"I'm...I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"That's amazing!" Grace counters. "I didn't know I could be affected by it! Dad's Alpha purrs sometimes help against nightmares but they're nothing compared to what you did!"

Heat rushes to your face. "I'm not sure what I did was appropriate, though," you whisper. "I don't want to mess up social conventions or something."

"Let's get Ms. Nat, then!" Grace runs off before you can catch her.

Taking Nat and Sam's earlier warnings into consideration you do your best to keep your emotions under control. You don't want to throw off the celebration or get more unwanted attention because you're distressed. You go through some of the breathing techniques Nat helped you learn.

"I couldn't find Nat so I brought Papa instead," Grace declares, interrupting your thoughts.

The first thing you notice about Grace's Papa is his deep blue eyes that have a tinge of wildness to them. His smile is polite, but also genuine, you see where Grace gets hers from. He's wearing a scarf around his neck, reminding you of Grace's mention of his past being similar to your own. You wonder if you could ask him where he gets his from.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Jefferson, Grace's father."

You take his hand in yours, giving him your name. "Nice to meet you." That's when his scent hits you. It's like you opened up a tea and spice cupboard, a little chaotic but very pleasant. You have to fight the urge to go for a deeper scent.

Jefferson seems to pick up on your reaction and he immediately releases your hand. He takes a moment to steady himself before coughing, "so Grace tells me your purring helped her calm down?"

"Oh, yes," you admit, embarrassment burning your cheeks. "We...neither of us knew if it was okay for me to do that or not. I don't want to disrupt things, even out of ignorance."

"It's absolutely okay," Jefferson assures. "If there's anything I've learned in the years since..." he touches his scarf before shaking his head. "If there's one thing I've learned since...joining this community, it's that taking care of each other is always allowed. You were taking care of my little girl. Thank you for that."

You breath a sigh of relief, calm taking you over. Jefferson's eyes widen a little as he takes in your scent. "I think I can tell why Grace was able to relax so much with you. You're a very...sweet person."

You smile shyly, "thank you."

"Papa, can you stay with us? You can be the one to each us the dance moves, right?"

Jefferson laughs, "I suppose in the spirit of the Solstice, of sharing new traditions, I could ask Curtis to teach you."

"Oh, even better!" Grace runs off, you assume to go find Curtis.

As soon as she's out of sight, Jefferson turns to you, his expression serious. "I had to work for a very long time to get them to find Grace and get her away from her adoptive parents. Had to beg, plead, damn near put a gun to someone's head to get her back in my life. Do be careful with her."

"Of...of course. I...I'd never...I wouldn't..." you stammer, caught off guard by his sudden change.

He smiles again, "just being careful. She's my life and you're a stranger."

"Of course," you nod.

When Grace returns she's got a giant of a man in tow. His bright blue eyes are shining with happiness as lets her lead him around. He gives Jefferson a little kiss as a greeting, his smile never wavering, until he caught your scent.

"You're the new Omega," he says, eyebrows raised. He turns to Grace, "and you're telling me she helped you where I couldn't?" Grace nods, smile wide.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Curtis. It would be an honor to teach you and Grace. I'll go ask Sarah if it would be okay for me to take over the tutorials."

"Th--thank you, Curtis." When you take his hand to introduce yourself your hit by his scent as well. It's the scent of a walking into a warm house on a cold day. Combined with Jefferson's, you feel like you're wrapped up in a warm blanket, drinking hot tea as it snows outside. It's the most comforting combination you've ever felt.

You quickly back away, head full of unwanted thoughts. "I'm...I'm not sure I should be out here."

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Grace is quick to grab your hand and try to pull you in for a hug. "Are you sure you can't stay and learn with me?"

"Um..." you look from her to her parents, both men are looking at you with knowing expressions.

"It'll be okay," Curtis soothes, rubbing Jefferson's cheek. "We'll just make sure you've got plenty of space for fresh air, okay?"

"You sure?" Jefferson whispers to him.

Curtis nods. "We'll let her have some space as she learns. Grace can be her primary teacher."

Grace hops up and down, "yes, please!" She turns back to you. "Please?"

You smile a little, "I don't know how anyone could say 'no' to that face."

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@irishhappiness; @lokislady82;

@lolitsthings @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly ; @startcarvingdarling; @thiquefunlover63

[darqx]

Some BP/HH/General asks

That mood when you want to share all the things but also want to keep it under wraps for the actual thing haha! Thanks very much anon!

As for your questions, I can't actually be specific cos there's no definitive number I have in mind for either. Basically there are a number of sectors (you can consider them their equivalent of countries - they have less than what we do though), and a number of species of demon of which I've designed about seven of. The ones I've shown before are these guys (and do you think I could find this pic again? No, I had to recreate it cos for the life of me I couldn't remember what ask I'd previously stuck it in lol):

One day when i have enough species and stuff out there I want to make a proper field guide \o/

Thank you very much for the interest! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ I would actually love to for BP, but before I jump the gun there I have to get the comic out first lol. That being said I have made mini-games before featuring the HH versions and some other characs alas they are all lost at the moment to the sands of Flash becoming obsolete 😩

Me and Gato do still collab sometimes (and send each other Xmas presents)! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

I have been working on one off and on for a while actually! Hopefully I'll have some pages to post next year or so*, I've been doing a bit of thumbnailing recently :D

*that is the plan but i also don't know where people find the time to do anything with a full time job lol.

Hullo! Glad you are enjoying the snippets of BP I've got here and there :D Here is an older ref on Izm back when i first got the idea (at that time i didn't really plan to do anything with it, it was just an AU. Now it's my main project haha. Anyway the ref is a little bit out of date in that regard.)

I used to have a "field guide" which was also made quite a while ago, unfortunately the death of Flash kinda killed it. Here's a screenshot of some relevant info from it though.

That's an interesting one as it's questionable how sentient souls are after removal 🤔 In my mind its only form is the smoke light, it can "see" to some degree and MIGHT be able to talk (but in a very no one can hear them sort of way, a la i have no mouth and i must scream. So i guess it can think "aloud"). The more time passes the less sentience it has.

It could try, though it wouldn't really get anywhere if it's in Rire's collection. He might just eat it lol.

.D: Good with kids, will be fine in all aspects.

Izm: The fun dad however needs a partner that knows what they're doing to ensure the child safety during shenanigans.

Marcus and Zeke: Also would be good parents though might be more helicopter out of protectiveness/worry when first starting out.

Ren: Geek parent very good for homework help. Some Asian parent tendencies eg "ah see, i told you not to do that right? Now you see what happened."

They are similar to our known society for this! So basically, there are some good families out there (eg Zeke - who is a demon - is from a pretty average loving family), and there are some bad families out there who only care about power or having an heir or whatever.

HH Rire is a human. I differentiate between him and Demon Rire because they are two different characters...even though they are also technically the same character lol. You can consider them as alternate universe iterations of a base "Rire" concept.

I actually half jested this in an old comic lol

I am sorry to inform you that a HH webcomic doesn't actually exist 😅 I did a lot of art, animations and one shots (such as the HHJ comics) with them, but nothing actually planned or serialised or anything. Whatever's currently on my DA or here is basically what exists.

Bringing this image back cos it's relevant lol.

You spelled it correct there though! XD

[thelovelydoggycatmadi]

Soul and Maka in my original story (Zanebie)

I couldn’t come up with a better title.

Q&A

?: why do they look different?

A: says in the title they’re not in the SE universe but in my own series Zanebie. Which started off as an Aphmau fanfic and I’m trying to branch off into original content. Thats probably a combo you’ve only seen maybe once because there’s like one piece of fanart for that crossover but you’d probably have to be deep in the Aphmau fandom like me. The other 65% of you probably only know Aphmau for brain rot or just haven’t heard of her.

?: what inspired some of these changes?

A: I feel like I have to state this preemptively but these aren’t redesigns or critiques just designs to make them fit in my universe. I also changed there’s powers and what they are in terms of magic capability.

?: why is Soul and Maka a zombie and a witch respectively?

A: witches aren’t evil in Zanebie. They’re actually quite common and don’t operate the same way as soul eaters. Same with zombies, they’re basically the same person mentally with only one visual change. Being their eyes. Soul would’ve died due to blood loss when they first met Crona. And brought back by Blair, who they haven’t met and is also no longer a magic cat but another magical species entirely. But that’s spoilers so.

?: why would you do this? Your story is not very big and people barely talk about it.

A: funny.

?: can I do something like this?

A: you don’t need my permission be cringe and free little bird.

Steins notes: (character backgrounds and other small changes let me indulge)

Soul Evan’s: a rare and sad sight to see such a young boy being a zombie. I’ll send her to the demon ladies house. She should be able to keep him safe. I’m sure I’ll get an earful from her though, since she already has so many in that house. But it should be fine. It’s so interesting though, how souls start to overflow and burst with even more magic after death. Like our living bodies are a shell that keeps all our potential inside. I should do some testing.

Maka Albarn: A talented young witch. But she feels a large amount of guilt for what happened poor girl. She probably didn’t think dragging him out to that church to practice magic would’ve led to all this. And finding out her parents are hunters would also be quite a shock. Well I’ll send her over with him. They need each other right now.

[lovelytayforce]

since you're doing hcs

HCs for the 13 primes in 200 words or less so it's challenging 🫢

Bro thinks Imma FOLLOW THE RULES WHEN RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BROKEN Anyways, ladies and non binaries; let's get this show started!

I've actually written very small vignettes for the 13 for a RP for the people who are out of the loop, no they aren't published but maybe one day I can post em if someone asks nicely 😘 I'd have to explain the context of it all but basically I made this whole sim area based off of Elysia realm; that game mode left a lasting impact on me and it made sense for the Prime's to enter their wisdom as data that embody who they are when they are updated for wisdom is not given, it's earned through mistakes and strife in life. Anyways let's start from the top with my favorite of the Primes: Onyx Prime He doesn't get a lot of screentime which sucks cause he's like THE SHEPARD of the group: He should be guiding Optimus more than Alpha Trion does come on writers THATS HIS WHOLE THING LEADING! (IDW was Shockwave so that doesn't count) I need more of his friendly and kind hearted personality to shine in the main series so BADLY and like again I'm the Predacon addict; let him be my token PREDACON 😭 Anyways onto HCs - with his Triptych Mask; I often give him the aesthetic of opening doors to many places across the universe since he's so spiritually connected to nature and life as it is, he basically has a "Tunnel of light" that can not only guide him but the souls of dearly departed or maybe a lost living soul looking for a reason to keep going forward. - He wanted to live peacefully on Cybertron for a very long time but alas Cybertron wasn't the best place for predacons and maximals with their connection with nature and as transformers I feel he would gladly take the call to transform, adapt and evolve for the betterment of their people - Also, he smelt that functionism bs a mile away and decided to cut his losses while he could. His kids come first! - Can be considered the most motherly and emotionally aware of the group, he's got a good head on him which is why he's so well liked 💙 - He's best friends with predaking in all continuities idc they always find each other - Despite being apart of the Well of Allsparks, he has a physical form but it takes a lot of energy to stabilize so don't expect long talks at night. Onto my second favorite- Quintus Prime! Can I just mention how beautiful this design is? He's so pretty I love him 💙

I never really agreed with him being unimaginative considering he created life but I understood the perfectionist plights he held as for idealism, where his concepts really that unrealistic? I loved questioning that because despite his good intentions he made probably one of the worst species alive but it brings about a funny thing about life; you can't mold individuals with free will to your vision. One way or another this would have unfolded considering many would do anything to reach their god much less creator to understand their purpose in life. okay no more philosophy, lets move on to those hcs~ - After many of his failed attempts at making allies for Cybertronians he withheld himself in the land of his daydreams casting aside his perfectionist habits, he paints. He creates for the joy of it, for within a dream nothing can escape his control. It gives him time to think things out and truly understand how life exists and the beauty of nature that once puzzled him that his brother Onyx knew so well. It's a slow process but it opens this scientist's horizons beyond anything even primus could anticipate! You already know whose my next favorite is if you know me and my love for Transformers Cybertron and Armada those shows were my CHILDHOOD BRO Let's set the timer for Vector Prime! ⏰ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE ICONIC QUEEN THE FIRST PRIME I EVER STANNED OPTIMUS PRIME WHO /jk

I subscribe to the majority of his Ask Vector Prime answers which as follows: He's a fan of the dinobots He used to "boogie down" with a disco ball. Despite having traveled far and wide, he could not see why kids loved Cinnamon Toast Crunch. If he had to choose a beast mode, it would be a large sea mammal. Everyone he ever cares about will grow old and die in what, to him, is just the pulse of a spark. Sometimes, he feels alone even when he's in a crowd. His favorite human movie was Back to the Future, due to the performance of lead actor Eric Stoltz. He revealed himself as a Point One Percenter (after the Shroud).

Please read what this man talks about on tfwiki, he's a national treasure who brings me joy during my great depression. Anyways onto my own hcs 🥰

He's a stickler for being on time! Don't you dare be late! You're wasting his precious time!Vector Prime - The clock that always strikes on time!He's the first POP (Point One Percenter) and was the mold for many POP's in the future such as Skywarp As a being held by the constraints of time, even though he wants to save as many universes as he can, he simply cannot; he's stuck between a physical form and a form distorted by the whims of time and space what little control he has is simply a delicacy that must be treasured with the utmost care. He keeps small trinkets from his favorite universes and planets and leaves clocks around for the sole purpose of helping those looking for his helping hand. Also, I just think it'd be neat to find a giant clock and if you strike right for midnight he'll appear!!

The rest are in the reblogs. 👏🏽

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Sir Arthur's Beloved Older Brother~

(Young) Kit Cosmos/Dakonyo

Like I said in the last post about Kit Cosmos, he is KBASW's Sir Kay.

Much like his counterpart (Sir Kay in the original Arthurian lore), Kit pretty much serves as Arthur's steward. But in this case, he manages Arthur, helping him to keep him in check. (serving as his right-hand man...) Along the course of forging a brotherhood where, Arthur ends up being adopted by Kit's entire clan.

I story I'll have to save it for later because I have one very important key element I've got to finish. Sir Ector: I need to finish the character design for... Kit's father and Arthur's father figure.

Connecting him to Sir Arthur gave me a chance to be a more integral part of the story. Not only that, but (spoilers for the anime)...it also gives his return in the final & his role in the final battle more meaning. The man fought so long to see N.M.E end, and they finally did it! <3

Keep reading for more explanation/ bonus content

So, Kit's species are dwarves and weren't very respected. They were seen as uncivilized, uncouth, brash, and rather loud. They're lost, though... they were actually one of the kindest & most welcoming people you'd ever meet. Very much like the dwarves from Lord of the Kings & the Hobbit... This is why they would mainly stay in their lane and would mainly stay on their planet Bremen (a reference to the folk tale "Town Musicians of Bremen").

Bremen is a planet filled with numerous winding mountains and rich with minerals very in tune with nature... And filled with Celtic magic. Bremen Place plays a major role in KBASW, later.

Staying away from the galaxy was their way of saying, "Hey, if you don't respect us... YA GET NONE OF US!" However, they couldn't play that card any longer once the War on Nightmare started up. And Bremen was one of the many planets that got sucked into the war.

However, their skill in mining blacksmithing was unmatched throughout the galaxy. Plus, their mountains contain valuable ores that could be used. But the mountains in which they lay were dangerous and could easily be caved in... that is unless you were an outsider. The people of Bremen knew how to navigate the dangerous mountains easily.

Very much needed their aid, the Ancients very much had to such up to and grovel...

Kit's kind saw each other as equals; four sections of the planet are divided to be managed properly, and they have one clan leader who brought them all together... Sir Ector Cosmos. The Ancients offered Sir Ector a seat on the galactic council.

But unlike King Fisher... Sir Ector knew greedy eyes when he saw them, knowing they were just trying to butter him up. He knew they needed protection from Nightmare, but he wasn't about to let them take advantage of him and his clan.

He would provide them with materials & pay them for their services however... when it came to paying them... he would give them their own brand of fool gold (a counter fit forged with Celtic magic). A forgery that could be easily made on the dot.

It's thanks to Sir Ector that half the gold that was distributed in the gambling galaxy is actually fools' gold. It became an inside joke in Breman, with Sir Ector saying, "To us, it's fool's gold... BUT TO THEM, IT'S JUST GOLD! *Knee slap*

With everyone in the clan just bursting out laughing...

However, of course, the tensions were still high, the ice was thin, and with how proud the dwarves were, they were afraid of upsetting them once... The Ancients suggested maybe one of them joining the GSA army might improve relations.

Kit volunteered... while the majority of his kind didn't mind what people thought of them. Kit thought this would be a chance to issue change in how they were seen. He was young and eager to make a change, this was also out of his desire of, wanting to grow out of his father's shadow.

Sir Ector was strongly against the idea, he didn't like the idea that one of his own was going out to war for the GSA. He heard unsavory rumors of the place... and didn't like his boy was going out into the unknown on his own saying:

"Just because they're willing to include one of us doesn't mean they respect all of us... it doesn't mean squat when they'll still look at ya-... change like this is gonna take a long time, it won't be worth it... I don't want you to see yourself get hurt, Kay... just drop it and stay home, okay, lad. "

But Kit was rather firm on his decision... despite his disapproval, Sir Ector supported his son's decision. However, the Ancients promised that he'd be treated with the utmost respect, and he'd go to one of Sir Uther's very own apprentices, Sir Nonsurat.

~ On Arthur's side

At this point in this timeline, Arthur has accepted Merlyn (Celestine) as his friend. And officially become their secret accomplish, ready and willing to help "right the wrongs Uther has done. And is determined to change for the better...

He has accepted & knows his demons and doesn't want to fall into that pit again... knowing full well his poor decisions & mistakes are fueled by his paranoia and aggroance.

Arthur never had a second in command (a right-hand man, so to speak) and "Not trusting anyone to do the job as good as him..." and he sorely needed a second opinion, but there was a problem.

Due to this status of being Uther top soldier, as well as his reputation of being a ruthless killing machine who didn't have the most pleasant aura... he was gonna end up with a little yes, man... it was gonna be hard to find someone to keep in check & be bluntly honest with him!

However, that was until he saw Kit mouthing off Nonsurat without a care, practically demanding him to put him in the ring. In most battles, he was told to stay in the back of the line or supervise the base, and he was just SO BORED!

In Nonsurat's defense, he was told by the Ancients to "make sure he stayed alive..." And didn't want to inquire about the wrath of Sir Uther if he messed up. And Uther would remind him how important this was for their image & not to dare sour relations with Sir Ector.

When Arthur approached Kit, he (Kit) had basically had enough of being put on the sideline and exploding on Arthur. Not accepting any of this "malarky anymore," along with some accompanying swear words. "Equivalent to how the Scotsman first insulted Jack." from Samurai Jack

They both remained silent... for a while, the two, staring at one another... with Arthurr finally mustering up the question, "Um, do you know who I am"

Kit:" YES, I DO, MISTER GOLDEN BOY, SIR ARTHUR, AND I DONNA CARE WHO YOU ARE AND-

Arthur: *enthusiastically* " YES, YOU'RE PERFECT!"

Kit: "YA DARN RIGHT I AM-uh wait wa- for what!?

Leading to this legendary... (the convo above)

While brash and hotheaded at times... Arthur always appreciated Kit's honesty, knowing very well having a Yes-man around him would only fuel his worse vices. Not only that, but this unfiltered honesty & having Kit not really care for his status... He didn't have to be this grand, domineering figure. It was with this sense of ease that he realized he had gained another friend.

With Kit, he was genuinely valued and respected by Arthur and fearless and stood up for him (a story which I will touch up on another day). And he finally got to bash a few skulls. While Kit sought to make the galaxy a more accepting world for his people... Arthur sought to make the world more accepting. He and Arthur were kindred spirits who both sought change... These were things that bonded them as brothers.

~

And now

THE ORIGINAL TRIO IS COMPLETE

Similar to how Kirby had his trio, Meta Knight has his trio, Celestine & Kit were Arthur's. And yeah, I know so many LoTR/Hobbit references

The love I have for Kit Cosmos is ridiculous! I'm giving all the anime characters the upgrades they deserve. I was worried that he wasn't gonna look dwarvish enough, but I think I was able to achieve the vision I had for him. I didn't think Kit would turn out this good.

I hope my writing isn't too shaky and I manage to write everything down properly...

I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and stay tuned for more~

[nebularanger-art]

Devil May Cry Furry AU Pt 1: The Sparda Family

Part of my Devil May Roar series of images. All designs are okay to draw, so long as I'm credited and tagged.

When it comes to drawing Devil May Cry characters as furries, the popular species choices for the Sparda family tend to be carnivorous, especially as canids/felids are the default choice of animals people go to for furry character designs. I, however, am someone who prefers ungulates as my go-to choice of mammalian species.

While Sparda is still a demon, the mortal form he takes on is meant to resemble a red deer, as stags are depicted to be guardians/leaders of the forests. Though, his size and antlers makes him look more like the extinct Irish elk. Eva, meanwhile, is a horse (albeit one without a distinct breed); An animal both quaint and unassuming, yet majestic and prized. And it ties into the Sparda twins being...

Unicorns. A creature long sought after for their elusiveness and the power they hold. (Technically they're actually hippocerfs, but I needed an excuse to make them unicorns.) Them being half-deer ties isn't as important outside of explaining why they have horns, but the horse symbolism reigns (get it) even stronger here so I'll list off how they tie into Dante and Vergil.

Dante:

Travel. Horses are the oldest mode of transportation besides our own two feet, and combined with them being used in myths as passages to and from the underworld, they fit right in with Dante traversing through literal hell and back.

Humanity. Horses and humans have had a long link with each other that almost rivals dogs in terms of just how much love we give to these animals.

Vergil:

Power. Horses are often seen as a commanding animal that demand your attention, from a status symbol by the royal to a vehicle for soldiers in war.

Death and demons. Did you know that the "mare" part of "nightmare" used to be literal? There's also the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and more specifically Death with his pale horse

Going back to Vergil for a bit, let's look at V and Urizen specifically. V is technically a white horse, but the ink grafted onto them from the Nightmare demons they host gives them the appearance of a zebra.

Urizen makes it as obvious as possible that he's a stag through just how monstrous his antlers are. Not only are they representative of the Qilphoth tree he was desperate to seek, but they're also based on "monster" deer antlers that result from either hormonal imbalances or intentional breeding for deer hunting farms to create the ideal trophy. (Don't look that up if you're squeamish btw)

Now as for Nero, he (and by extension, his mother, the Lady in Red) is a roe deer. Though not the same species, he represents the side that his father Vergil most idolizes: The deer side, the demon side, Sparda.

Of course, Nero didn't know this even though he knew he stood out from the rest of his "herd", The Order of the Sword. This is also a reference to Bambi, who lives his life as an ordinary roe deer but eventually realizes that he's the son of the Old Prince. I'm talking about the original book, by the way; The Disney movie throws away half the story and turns Bambi from a European Jewish roe deer into an American whitetail deer of indeterminate religious status.

[thegreatwicked]

Lover, Fighter

This is a little something special for someone I know who is a lovely person but is also going through a tough time. Self-care is important and so is reaching out, I know it's hard and I struggle to do it too sometimes. But I promise you, there are many people who care and worry about you. It's going to be all right. So, if it's just a bad day or you've been having a series of bad days, take time to love yourself and let others love you.

Where my Obi-Wan Ladies at? Guys, we need a name. Obi-Wans Harem? I'm taking suggestions. Have a good day everyone! It's what Obi-Wan would want.

Part of the 50 Shades of Obi-Wan Reader Insert Series

Lover, Fighter.

Everybody says there's, two kinds of hearts Where one loves and one goes to war Some make peace and others get even No solid ground to stand for

Surely, it's not easy or that simplified I'm dying while you walk away I wanna put my boots on and march to the front lines

I will be your lover, fighter, harder, higher, lover, fighter I wanna fight for lover, fighter under fire, lover, fighter I wanna fight for love, love, love Wanna fight for love, love, love

The day was at its end and no one was more relieved to see it than Master Kenobi. He was fatigued, and his back ached from the long day of Council Meetings, and each moment spent in those chairs was far from pleasant as they had clearly been designed with aesthetics in mind rather than comfort. A little over an hour was all it would take before one’s tailbone began to ache. But being that they were meant to be uniform and accommodate other species aside from humans, there was little that could be done in the matter aside from trying not to look too obvious as you shifted in your seat. 

He felt a bit overstimulated as well, he had long maintained that the life of politics wasn’t for him, but as his time on the council grew he found that politics trickled its way into Jedi affairs more and more these days, and if left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wanted a soothing cup of tea, the heat of a shower, and the cool caress of sheets on his skin with you securely in his arms, of course. He smiled as he thought of the softness of your touch and the sweetness of your lips in every kiss, and each step that brought him closer to your shared quarters brought him closer to your embrace; home.

As he stepped off the turbo lift, a choppy sensation prickled at the back of his mind, a slight disturbance in the Force that set him on edge. It could have been anything, maybe he wasn’t the only one having a long and tiring day, but as he drew closer to his quarters the disturbance grew more intense, like an awful tinnitus, a tuning fork from hell. There were several turns he needed to take before he reached home but even before those definitive turns he knew— 

"Something is wrong," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath.

He began quickening his pace until he was just about jogging to reach your shared quarters, his robes flowing behind him as only the muted sound of his heavy footfalls betrayed his urgency to reach you. Though not panicked, he was keenly alert and concern coursed through him as his connection to you wavered in the Force. 

As soon as he stepped through the doors, tension gripped him like a vice, squeezing his temples until they began to throb with discomfort. The air was both thick and fragile as if one wrong move would shatter it into a million sharp pieces. It set him on edge, if it was doing this to him, what was it doing to you?

He scanned the main room, but you were nowhere in sight. There was not a single sign of life besides himself. As he made his way towards your shared bedroom, his heart raced with a sense of dread that grew stronger with each step and the hairs on his neck stood up.

Obi-Wan's eyes landed on you sitting on the edge of the bed, and a sense of relief washed over him. But it was short-lived as he realized that the awful disturbance was coming from you.

You sat facing the wall back hunched in a miserable repose, hair cascading over one shoulder like a frigid waterfall as distress radiated off you in powerful waves, sending daggers to his heart. Your shoulders shook with silent sobs that tried at every turn to force their way out of your body, you were locked in combat trying to maintain them, your head buried in your hands. Fingers twisted in your hair, clutching your scalp. 

You were so consumed by your emotions that you didn't even notice Obi-Wan's presence as he stood silently in the doorway, his eyes filled with concern. Who had done this to you? Who had hurt you? His Starlight?

"Darling, what's happened?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his voice laced with worry, but you didn’t respond.

He felt the swirling chaos around you intensify like it was trying to pull him in. Your breath hitched in your chest as you tried to swallow your cries and ragged breaths. To force them back down to that place where they could not escape. A thousand questions raced through his mind, but he knew he needed to remain calm for your sake. 

The sight of you in such pain was unbearable, and he longed to take your suffering away, to shield you from whatever darkness had taken hold. But first, he needed to understand what was happening.

He took a slow, cautious step toward you, his heart heavy with concern. "My love?" He called gently, trying to reach through the overwhelming tide of your sorrows.

There was no response, and so he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You jumped at his touch, finally registering his presence. It was a terrible thing, the look in your eyes; red and puffy, glistened with unshed tears. Struggling to control the tide of tears. Startled by his sudden appearance, you leaped to your feet, hastily attempting to straighten your disheveled appearance. Arranging your hair to hide your face from him, you didn’t want him to see you like this, so vulnerable and small. The distress that was centered on you suddenly faded as though on turned off a tap of water, giving him a glimpse of just what you had been keeping from him. 

Stars! 

What was he even doing here? He was early, wasn’t he? You looked to the timepiece to find that, that was actually not the case, he was in fact, a bit late. You’d been so wrapped up in your misery that you’d failed to notice he was over an hour late in returning. You cursed yourself for being so careless.

"Is everything-" 

"Nothing's wrong," You insisted harshly, not meaning to snap at him, it just came out like that. "I'm just... tired, that's all."

You could feel his stare, not needing to turn around to see those beautiful blue eyes to know that he didn’t believe you. He wasn’t blind to your pain, he felt it in every half-smile, each reserved kiss. You hadn’t been yourself since returning from the front lines and he would have been a fool not to notice it, and you a bigger one if you thought you could hide it from him.

There was no hiding it now. He didn’t believe you for a moment, and you’d have a hell of a time convincing him otherwise now. Kriff! How were you going to fix this? He wasn’t expecting to come home to a simpering mess of a woman, he wanted his strong-willed, playful, passionate lover, but instead, he came home to a crying girl. 

For a few moments neither of you said anything. Part of you wanted so badly to turn around and embrace him; to fall into the arms of the man you loved but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Stubbornness had long been your greatest foe and your most insidious one; that it prevented you from seeking comfort from the person you trusted the most. Your eyes burned as a war was waged within them stemming the tides of those tears screaming to be released. A small part of you wanted him to force the details of your pain so you had to confront them but you knew better. Obi-Wan Kenobi would never do such a thing.

But that didn’t mean he was going to do nothing, instead of the anger or frustration at your deception you expected, he took a different approach. 

"What have I done to lose your confidence in me?"

You looked at him, shocked by his question, and then quickly turned away, placing your hands on the desk for support, hanging your head in shame. The silence between you stretched on, a chasm that seemed to deepen with each passing second.

Your trembling hands, gripped the desk as if it were your only lifeline. He approached you slowly, each step a careful calculation, a deliberate choice to bridge the gap between you. 

“My dear, I know you’ve been melancholy lately, and while I would never presume to know the depth of your despair, I had hoped you might reach out to me when you were ready,”

He hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of your anguish, before closing the distance and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stiffened slightly at his touch but didn't pull away. 

"I know how difficult it can be to leave that battlefield behind," He murmured gently, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Physical wounds may heal, but not all wounds close quite the same."

Warmth flowed from his palm into your form, easing your rigid posture.

"I could never lose confidence in you, Obi-Wan," You admitted softly, your voice laden with sorrow. "But I didn't want to burden you with my darkness."

You could practically hear him shaking his head, he did that a lot when you let silly things like this happen.

"My darling girl," 

He gently pulled you back by the shoulder, turning you to face him, but you stubbornly kept your gaze on the ground; staring at your boots meeting his. He didn’t try to make you look up at him, though he wanted to see your eyes, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. 

"I would rather endure a hundred battles in the darkest of nights than to see you suffer in stubbornness. But I know asking for help isn't something you're naturally gifted at."

He was one to talk… 

But he was right, you nodded against his chest, a small sigh escaping your lips. Gently, he stroked your hair, feeling the warmth of his body melding with your own, you relaxed in his embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, he did that a lot too, it was one of the things that saw to it that your heart could hardly contain itself whenever he was near.

“If you don’t want my help just push, darling, but if you do, just stay here with me.” He whispered into your hair, the sound of his heartbeat steady and reassuring beneath your ear. "Let me carry it for you," 

After several minutes of silence, a quiet rain began to fall outside their window, the droplets tapping gently against the glass. 

You didn’t push him away. 

Your hands gripped onto his robes tightly and the trembling returned. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, inhaling the damp scent of the air, before he spoke again.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" 

You remained still for a moment as if gathering your thoughts, and you did your best to steadily let out a breath that shook just like you did. 

"You're right," You whispered "I'm struggling.” 

His arms tightened around you. 

“The pain and the memories. My connection to the Force isn't what it was, and I'm afraid, I feel like I’m drowning." Your body shook more as you spoke, the turmoil within spilling out like waves crashing upon a rocky shore. You hated feeling like this and not knowing what the catalyst was that caused all of this. That there was no rational explanation for the way you were feeling. It felt so… foolish. 

“I can’t find my peace, I can’t silence the nightmares or the ghosts, it feels like they’re trying to drag me down and sometimes I can scarcely breathe.”

You felt it creeping back up on you as you spoke the words aloud like the darkness was trying to claw at you and pull you away from the safety of Obi-Wan’s arms. Your breathing grew increasingly erratic, an invisible weight on your chest, crushing you, tearing you apart and the crippling fear of drowning returned. 

His hand found its way into the tresses of your hair turning your head to rest against his chest, just above his heart. If there was anyone who knew of the ghosts that haunted you, it was Obi-Wan, having suffered their attacks before as well. He didn’t tell you that you were foolish to keep this from him, nor did he patronize you by speaking to you like a little Padawan; telling you to collect your thoughts and concentrate on the force. Sometimes feelings just needed to be felt and acknowledged no matter how irrational or frightening they were. 

Mentoring his Padawan to Knighthood and eventually to the rank of Master had taught him that.

"Shh," he soothed, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Focus on my breathing, and listen to my heartbeat. Breathe with me, my love."

Somehow, you weren’t sure how, the muted sound of his heartbeat came through the noise and clutter that was crowding your mind. Soft and quiet at first but then as the seconds ticked on, it grew louder and… warmer. He stroked your hair and held you closer to him. He could feel the tension building in your body, the energy coming off you in waves of distress, his cerulean serenity went to silent battle with the demons that persisted after you.

"You are not alone in this. I understand."

He slowed his own breaths, taking deep and measured inhales and exhales. The Force radiating from him, a gentle and calming presence that enveloped you like a warm, soothing blanket. Gradually, your breathing calmed and matched his, the storm within beginning to subside, the waters stilling, the skies clearing.

As you breathed in and out, you gradually loosened your death grip on his robes. Your grip, once tight with fear, now softened. And then, without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, clinging to the sanctuary he provided. The rain continued its gentle rhythm outside, washing away the last vestiges of distress from the room. 

"Can you hear it?" Obi-Wan asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

His heartbeat. 

You listened intently, your ear pressed against the steady thrum of his chest. "Yes," You murmured, breathing in deeply. The scent of incense and the familiar linnens of the temple robes mingled with his own unique smell, a comforting presence that helped to calm you further.

"You're not going to drown, I won’t let you" He promised, his words firm and unwavering. "You're safe now, away from the battlefield." A few guarded tears seeped into his robes, but he didn't let go, only holding on tighter. "Your secrets are safe with me. All of you is safe with me."

Turmoil within you slowly abated, the Force around you becoming peaceful once more, mirroring the steadiness of Obi-Wan's presence.

He glanced towards the balcony at the rain drizzling down onto Coruscant, remembering your shared fondness for meditating in the rain. You followed his gaze and pulled back slightly, attempting a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, but it was trying.

"I'm alright now," 

You insisted, hoping to reassure him. It was a lie, and not a very convincing one but at the moment, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more; him or yourself? Though it didn’t matter, one of you needed to think you were alright, even if it wasn’t true.

But that wasn’t good enough for Obi-Wan and he shook his head gently. 

"Not quite yet you’re not, but you are getting there." He took your hand in his, pressing a tender kiss to your palm and wrist before guiding you towards the balcony. 

The air had a chill that often accompanied the rain it felt good on your skin despite the initial shiver due to the sudden change of temperature. He wore that kind smile that made his eyes shimmer, and he looked from the rainy horizon and the darkening horizon to you. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile reached farther when he looked at you. 

He swiftly shed his heavy robes, tabard, and tunic then tugged off his boots until he stood tall and strong in only his trousers. Against this dreary backdrop, he appeared almost ethereal, his muscular frame glistening with mist and the soft light filtering through the gray clouds illuminating his features like a painting come to life. It was a striking sight, one that captured the essence of raw masculinity amidst the lush green landscape drenched in water.

It had sometimes seemed a silly thing that he would often insist on taking off his boots whenever he could to meditate, insisting that it grounded him and it was good to feel the dirt beneath one’s feet. There was no dirt on the balcony but the chilly concrete was as good a place to start.

With a graceful motion, he lowered himself onto the woven mat spread out on the ground, extending his hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to join him, and for a moment; you hesitated and you didn’t know why. He opened and closed his hand gesturing for you to take his and something inside you screaming for comfort took control of your limbs and your hand slipped into his, the warmth of his gaze and gentle smile reassured you. 

Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out and slipped into his calloused one. His rough fingers wrapped around yours, pulling you closer to sit across his lap. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his strong neck, hands tangling in the hair at his nape. 

He didn't assume the traditional posture of meditation, instead choosing to lean back against the sturdy wall with you. His muscular arms that wielded a lightsaber with precision and strength, encircled you protectively, their strength reminding you of a fierce swordsman ready to defend his loved ones.

“Come,” He instructed, his tone soothing. "We'll sit here for as long as it takes. Until the shaking stops and the darkness fades. I don't care if it takes all night. Council meetings be damned."

The love of a Jedi was perhaps one of the rarest and most powerful forces in the galaxy, shimmering with an otherworldly energy.

Obi-Wan's love for you was like a warm blanket, wrapping you in safety and comfort. It was also a powerful shield, deflecting the darkness and chaos that threatened to consume you.

Your eyes slipped closed as you allowed yourself to be enveloped by his embrace. The raindrops pattered softly against the floor of the balcony, drops splattering but not quite reaching you.

The cityscape lights of Coruscant twinkled in the night. You smiled weakly into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek.

"What about Anakin?" 

"Anakin is a grown man," Obi-Wan reassured you, his voice strong and even. "Until you're well, he's Padme's responsibility and I trust she is woman enough to wrangle him even at his worst and most impetuous. There is no greater need of me anywhere else in the galaxy than right here with you." 

Your heart swooned at such words and the tenderness that emanated from them. What lucky star were you born under to have such a man? You stared at his handsome face for a few moments, seeing all your years together play out. From the moment you’d met him as a Padawan you’d known your destinies would be intertwined. You’d loved this man before you even knew what love was. Listening to the rain, you couldn't help but wonder aloud: 

"What would I do without you?"

"You'll never have to know," He promised, his voice filled with determination and love. Your heart swelled with gratitude and affection for him, prompting you to nestle closer in his lap, pressing a gentle kiss to his heart. 

"I love you, Obi-Wan."

"I love you too, silly girl," He replied tenderly. "Now hush, just sit here with me and let me care for you."

As if on cue, the rain began to drizzle down more heavily, the sound of it soothing and rhythmic. Obi-Wan's arms tightened around you protectively, and you felt his light pushing the darkness away. You were unsure if the warmth you were feeling came from his body heat or something deeper, but you knew it was there, keeping the cold at bay.

The clouds obscured the sky, preventing the stars from shining, but you knew they were still there, watching over you. This knowledge mirrored everything you felt from Obi-Wan's presence - not always visible, but ever-present and making the night less dark.

"Will we sit here all night?" You asked, curiosity laced with uncertainty in your voice.

"If that's what it takes," He replied without hesitation. 

"What if we get cold?" You questioned, seeking reassurance.

"Then I'll keep you warm," He promised, he reached for his discarded robes wrapping them around you like a cocoon of warmth and safety. "And if my robes aren't enough, I'll take you to bed and keep you warm in my arms there."

The certainty in his words brought the comfort you so desperately needed, and you knew in that moment that no matter how long the night was or how hard the rain fell, you would be safe and loved in his embrace.

As the raindrops melded with the distant city lights, painting shimmering streaks upon the Coruscant skyline, a stillness enveloped you. Nestled against Obi-Wan's chest, his steady heartbeat resonated within you, grounding you in this moment of serenity.

"Obi-Wan?" You whispered hesitantly, not wanting to break the fragile peace they shared.

"Yes, my love?" He replied softly, his breath warm on your hair.

"Thank you," 

"Always," He said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

You didn't need to say anything more - words were insufficient when it came to expressing the bond you shared. At that moment, you knew, without a doubt, that you could weather any storm together.

Laughing softly, you shook your head. "I must seem like such a mess to you."

"Never," Obi-Wan assured you, a tender smile gracing his features. "You are the most beautiful, strongest person I know. If anyone is messy here, it's the galaxy for daring to challenge you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his fierce loyalty, feeling your heart lighten at his words. "You really do have a way with words, don't you?"

"Only when it comes to you," He admitted, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "For you, I'd move mountains and cross galaxies."

“Move mountains?”

"Oh, yes.” He paused his lips brushing yours, “We are bound together, through the Force and through our hearts, till the galaxy lies in ruins and our histories are long faded to less than cosmic dusts, you will have me."

Damn tears welled in your eyes as you leaned into him, feeling the truth of his words echo through your being. You pulled him into a kiss, it was nothing that might set loose the fires of passion, not yet, that always came later. Obi-Wan was as selfless a lover as could be asked for, and you knew the look in his eyes, this would be one of those nights where he would guard you and carry you to the edge of gentle and exquisite bliss and in no hurry. He and he would do it again, and again and again until neither of you could keep your eyes open. 

Together, you sat wrapped in each other's embrace, letting the rain wash away your fears and doubts. And for the first time in a long while, the darkness that had threatened to consume you began to recede, replaced by the warmth and light that Obi-Wan brought into your life.

The Clone Wars were over, and though the battles never truly ceased, it was time to start living.

@burnthecheshirewitch @pickleprickle @split-spectrum @heyhawtdawgs @bad4amficideas @hereticpriest

[ckret2]

i wish to know about how you characterize amorphous shape. amorphous needs more attention. (same with the other henchmaniacs without lines, but i prefer focusing on the character my brain has decided i am.)

I characterize them as approximately 14~19 separate individual shapes from Bill's home dimension that got combined together into one hive mind. That's why I refer to Morph as "they"—I'm not using "they" as a gender-neutral pronoun, I'm using it as a plural pronoun, they are literally multiple people.

How they got combined into one body will get explored later in the fic so I'm not gonna spoil it; but it happened during the destruction of the second dimension.

The polygon parts of them weren't all squares to start out with, but after a trillion years they found that most of the time it's easier for them to simplify themselves into a form that tessellates tidily. They can shapeshift and separate though, so they can return to their original shapes when they want, like:

(that's not literally the exact shapes they were, just concept art of what changing to their original shapes would look like.)

They're Bill's top scientists. Also, his only scientists. Not all of them were scientists, but when you've shared brains for a trillion years, you pick up each other's knowledge, and anyway over a dozen minds working on the same problem at the same time makes brainstorming faster. They're to blame for the interdimensional portal.

Any time Bill attempts to conquer a new dimension, he's gotta try to persuade the people inside that dimension to make him a portal; and in order to do that, he's got to pass those people portal blueprints; and in order to do that, he needs portal blueprints that both, a) work correctly in the physics of the dimension he's contacting, and b) can be built using the technology, natural resources, and construction techniques available to the natives. He wouldn't send portal blueprints that only work correctly with linear forward-moving time to the do-over dimension where spontaneous time loops randomly form, and he wouldn't send a design that can only be powered by nuclear fission to a culture that's barely discovered coal.

For a long time, Amorphous Shape were the guys Bill turned to for all those portal blueprint modifications. Any time he found a promising new dimension with a sufficiently gullible-looking species, he'd go in with Amorphous Shape so they could study local physics and technology and adapt the blueprints to fit local conditions.

By now, Bill & company have made SO many blueprints for SO many universes with SO many kinds of technology that when they find a new universe, they can typically tweak a design they already made rather than start from scratch; and Bill's been studying the blueprints for so long that now he thoroughly understands the science behind them and can draft & modify them himself, so he doesn't need Morph's help so much. He mainly consults with them to double-check the math before tossing the blueprints at a dreamer or to assist on really strange cases like that one dimension with a form of physics based entirely on the letter M.

Right now, Morph's bigger long-term scientific concern is the slow degradation of the Nightmare Realm and finding ways to help Bill shore up the crumbling reality; and implementing emergency quick fixes whenever something small falls apart, like a black hole threatening to destabilize the fabric of reality around several nebulas or knots tangling in wormholes because the ends are fraying.

If Bill is like the self-appointed god of the Nightmare Realm, Morph are something in between a demigod and a high priest: they don't have any reality-altering power themselves, but they do understand and influence reality far beyond any mere mortal and their petitions to the god to do this or fix that keeps local reality functioning.

Talking to them is like talking to a committee or a mob. Most of the things they say are collectively agreed-upon by the members of the hive mind, and so tend to have the careful precision of a department issuing a public statement rather than a regular conversation; but when something happens to get a majority of them mad, they get mad together and egg on each other's anger, and tend to immediately snap into confrontation rather than sit back until they calm down

They don't have a lot of hobbies they all share, so they tend to dabble in and drop a wide variety of hobbies rather than get really deeply invested in any. More likely to spend their spare time seeing what the other Henchmaniacs are doing and tag along on that than try to decide what to do on their own. Bad habit of just going back to work when they're bored since at least they can all agree that's productive.

They haven't gone on a date in billions of years and are not happy about this. They don't even have all the same sexualities, much less the same types. They need to go on a date with like a minimum four people simultaneously to balance out the fact that they'll be variously attracted to/repelled by any one singular date. Finding four people who cover their separate tastes and are all willing to go on a single date with "the same person" is pretty hard, especially when you're workaholics living with the most hated person in the multiverse and don't get out much.

Zealously, desperately loyal to Bill. They've spent a trillion years telling themselves that Bill's gonna rescue his devotees from the Nightmare Realm and claim a new dimension for them. By now it's become easier to pretend he's a flawlessly honest leader who'd never lie to them (unless he has a very good reason) than to grapple with his massive failings as a person and consider that maybe they made a mistake older than universes in following him. Any time one of their components starts to mentally doubt one of Bill's decisions, they're shouted back into conformity by the rest who are ready to offer justifications and explanations for anything he does. Can't do deep thinking on a difficult topic if you don't even have privacy in your own head.

If Bill ever wants to screw with them he can say "Morph, you're four of my best friends" and leave them going crazy trying to figure out which of their components he likes and why he doesn't like the rest. But Bill doesn't mess with the shapes much. Only if it's, like, really funny.

There used to be more surviving shapes in Bill's social circle, but over the eons they left one by one, until now it's just down to Morph, Kryptos, Hectorgon, and Bill; each time the shapes lost another member, it became harder for the remainders to consider leaving. Morph are no more capable of contemplating lives without Bill, Kryptos, and Hectorgon than you are of contemplating a life without bones. The feeling is mutual all around.

The rest of the Henchmaniacs could get fucked as far as they care.

[niyabiblioteca]

i can help

PAIRING: best friend!hyunjin x fem!reader

WARNINGS: not exactly smut cuz i have horrible writers block, dirty talk, manhandling?

you’re so deprived and you have yet to receive the treatment you deserve. how could hyunjin not help you?

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you love hyunjin so much.

you love that as your best friend, you can always confide in him. even with the most personal or embarrassing or pathetic stories.

hyunjin has heard stories from you that most people would take to the grave, but he has made it clear in your friendship that he would never judge you and will always lend an ear or a shoulder when it’s needed.

you have taken complete advantage of that promise, hence why you’re in his kitchen for the 3rd time that week, scraping the remaining ice cream from the bottom of the tub after yet another ruined hookup.

“i swear it’s like i’m cursed hyunjin. why does your species just fail to know basic fucking female anatomy?”

hyunjin chuckles in amusement but also remorse as he watches you frustratingly take bites of the vanilla ice cream he’s bought for this occasion especially. he’s even designated a spoon for you at this point because after the amount of times you’ve ended up in his kitchen just this week, he figured you’d need one.

“like how hard is it to find a girls sweet spot or her clit or her g-spot? especially when i fucking tell you where all three are! if i have to experience a man rubbing on my fucking inner thigh again i’ll lose it.”

hyunjin listens intently, nodding and you’re honestly impressed at his ability to engage in these kinds of talks with you as if it’s so casual.

he has to admit though, this is getting old.

not the whole having you in his house talking about your problems thing. no, he promised you could always count on him and he really meant it. but the fact that all week it’s all been about how your sneaky links just completely leave you high and dry makes him feel so bad for you.

“i don’t think i’ve faked this many orgasms in my life. maybe it’s me, my vagina is broken or something. because there’s no way this keeps happening to me and i’m becoming more and more strung up by the hour.”

he let you continue to go on as he disposed of the ice cream tub and spoon for you, listening and plotting his response when you’re done. the crazy thing is, he doesn’t feel shy or weird about what he’s about to offer at all. he feels that he’s actually a very good friend for considering this because he’ll be damned if his bestie is without a proper orgasm for the rest of the week after the hell she’s been through.

“i just can’t do this anymore, hyunjin. it’s actually causing me so much stress and anger i might explode.”

you almost feel bad for going on like this because you think this isn’t even a serious issue. you just wanna have a goddamn orgasm. a real one.

hyunjin thinks it’s a very valid reason though.

“i can help you.”

literally hyunjin hasn’t said this much the entire time you’ve been over. so this definitely caught you completely off guard.

your eyes widen as you almost choke on your saliva.

“y-you can help me what?”

“ i can help you cum.”

ah. so you definitely weren’t fucking hallucinating.

you couldn’t exactly react as hyunjin grabbed your hands and pulled you out of your seat so that the two of you were standing not even two inches away from each other.

“tell me. what could i do to give you the most mind-numbing orgasm ever? what did those men do wrong?”

he put his hands on both sides of your face as he looked you dead in the eyes waiting for your answer. he was very serious about this and he was taking your pleasure seriously. that alone made your whole body hot, especially between your thighs.

“t-they were too soft with me. i wanted it rough and they didn’t give that to me.”

hyunjin gave a cute eye smile in response to that as this information was all making sense to him. he was glad he was given this insight about what makes you tick so that he could accommodate you properly.

and that he did.

not even 30 seconds after you said that, he spun you around and pushed your upper body against the countertop so that you were bent over in front of him.

he wasn’t gentle either. he had used every bit of strength and aggression to get you where he wanted you and oh did it work so goddamn well.

you whimpered as you felt his bulge press against your heat. you couldn’t see him, but just the image of his lean figure pressed against your body as his hand reached forward and gripped your hair to pull your head up made you so fucking wet it was actually surprising to you.

“mmm. this is better. so tell me, y/n. how else can i make you cum so hard that you forget about every last hookup this week?”

you were downright embarrassed of the response you managed to let out, but hyunjin felt there was no need when we was doing everything in his power to make you feel good.

“s-spank me. slap me. choke me. fucking ruin me, please.”

hyunjin let out a low growl at your tone and pressed his bulge even harder against your core, causing you to whine and push your hips back at the same time.

“please, what?”

you knew what he wanted you to say. he knew what he wanted you to say. so badly. the moment he heard it, all hell would break lose and he would give you every last inch of him if you wanted it.

“please, jinnie. fuck me.”

god, hyunjin is such a great friend.

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