#i do not know how to draw a piano this was from memory don't @ me

[veevil]

Vee do you know about: The most lonely whale in the world?

The 52-Hertz whale is known as the most lonely whale with a dusting sound that has never been reciprocated by anyone from their species.

What if Erik's call also can not be reciprocated by his species because it is so bizarre/ special that no one can hear it? Or recognize it?

Plot twist Charles reciprocates the call by playing piano.

-Flappy

Stop that's so cute and so incredibly heartbreaking he probably couldn't be heard/understood if he were to meet another siren considering he's part human :(

Here's Charles playing piano to his boyfriend

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[zablife]

Run From Me Darlin'

Tommy Shelby x female reader (Alfie's wife)

A/N: Taking shelter requested by @thomashelbyswife. Song is "Run from Me" by Timber Timbre. Prompts "I didn't know where else to go." Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Divider credit: @wethairjoel

Warnings: language, mention of infidelity, betrayal Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

The servants at Margate had long since retired when they heard their master's voice echoing throughout the house, along with an eery melody from the ancient piano in the parlor.

"Run from me, darlin' Run, my good wife Run from me, darlin' You better run for your life"

And so you were in that moment, escaping a mad man who had made your life a misery from the moment you said I do. You ran from your seaside home in only your night dress, no possessions or money to your name. It was fear that drove you from him that night as he threatened to kill you.

That's how you found yourself on the doorstep of Tommy Shelby's manor the next morning, your shivering form but a memory of the woman he'd come to know the past five years.

"Y/n, what's happened?" Tommy asked as he ushered you inside and draped a blanket over you.

"I didn't know where else to go," you cried in despair, breaking down the moment you saw his sympathetic sapphire eyes staring back at you.

"You're going to be alright," he assured you, looping a strong arm around your waist for support. "Tell me what he's done," he urged, guiding you to sit on the sofa in his office.

He poured you a drink to steady your nerves and you confided everything. The periods of time you'd been locked in your room because of his suspicions about the two of you, followed by angry and often nonsensical tirades. Your chest heaved with pain and your voice faltered with hiccuped gasps at the horrendous treatment you'd received for over a month.

"How did you manage to escape?" Tommy asked.

"A door left ajar by a new maid," you replied.

Tommy nodded solemnly as he listened, then drained his glass of whisky without answer. He didn't have to because you knew he didn't believe in hurting women, having agreed many times before that his friend's behavior was crossing a line.

As Tommy lightly stroked your hair, you felt compelled to share the threat against him as well, quietly explaining Alfie's plans to crush Shelby Company Limited with his uncle's connection to the opium trade in America. Though you sensed his frustration as his fingers curled into your shoulder, you tried to soften the blow by proposing this as a time of new beginnings. "Run away with me, Tommy," you urged, gazing hopefully into his eyes.

"Leave it to me," he assured, placing a chaste kiss to your temple.

You settled back against him, covering his hand with yours before giving way to exhaustion.

Feeling your body grow heavy with sleep, Tommy called for the housekeeper to look after you. "Frances, take Y/n upstairs and draw a bath," he instructed carefully. "Then prepare the guest room for her. She'll be staying with us tonight."

"Yes, sir," the woman replied, taking you by the hand with such gentle ease, you began to weep.

"Oh, my dear," she gasped as she guided you upstairs. "Don't worry, Mr. Shelby will set it right." And you couldn't help but believe the promise in her voice.

Downstairs Tommy paced his office in agitation before finally tossing his glass against the fireplace in anger. As the shards of glass fell at his feet, he tried not to picture your beatific face crumbling. In fact, he tried not to think of you at all as he raised the receiver to his ear.

"What the fuck do you want?" Alfie grumbled.

Tommy traced the phone cord, thinking of all the times his so-called friend had betrayed him and how fitting it would be to humiliate him by stealing his wife forever. However, the notion of partnering together to control the opium trade abroad was far more enticing.

"How is your uncle in Boston?" he asked.

Alfie huffed out a laugh as he asked, "And why are you so concerned about the state of my family this evening?"

Tommy didn't have to say your name, it was implied the moment he began to negotiate. "You'd exchange my wife for access to Boston, would ya?" Alfie sneered with a knowing grin.

"I would," Tommy answered without hesitation.

And that's how the deal was made late one September afternoon as you soaked in the bath, quite unaware you would be reunited with your husband the following morning.

You had one last peaceful slumber before realizing you'd been sold out, exiting Arrow House kicking and screaming against the men your husband sent to punish you.

"I thought you loved me. How could you do this?" you cried when you glimpsed Tommy's somber face waiting in the drive.

Motioning for the men to let you go, Tommy welcomed you into his open arms as he whispered, "It's not personal, it's business."

You wanted to fight him, but instead you pleaded for your life. "Have mercy," you begged against his lips when he offered one last passionate kiss. A glimmer of promise was restored in that moment as you swore you felt his muscular frame give way into yours. However, you underestimated the strength of his resolve. One look into his icy blue eyes told you, he would never claim you as his own.

"Run," Tommy urged you under his breath, waiting for Alfie's men to give chase.

As he watched you flee toward the open field where he kept his horses, he hoped your swinging gate would prevail. Swallowing hard at the sight of his betrayal, he loathed the man he had become.

"Run for your life," he whispered, knowing it was already too late.

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@helen06dreamer

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@cillmequick

@mischievouslittlecreature

@justrainandcoffee

@ryecosse

@garrison-girl-08

@copinghex

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@cillianmurphyfanatic

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@babayaga67

@babaohhhriley

@kmhappybunny240

@thomashelbyswife

@mythos-writes

@writeroutoftime

@thegreatdragonfruta

@peakyltd

@holacia3

@novashelby

[alottiegoingon]

talking to the trees

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where lottie's visions are getting worse.

warnings: wilderness based, implied mental illness, established relationship but doesn't really matter, angsty ending?, not proofread

lottie’s visions were worsening, and you were unsure how to help her. not only were they more frequent, but she also started acting unaware of everything around her.

sometimes she'd go silent, not uttering a single word for days and even weeks. you had to bring her food daily or else she'd stare at the trees and forget about taking care of herself.

being extremely careful, you place your hand on her shoulder, rubbing digitals on her skin through her clothes in a caress. "lottie, you need to eat. look, mari made us soup," you murmured, holding a steaming bowl.

the only way to make lottie to eat lately was to tell her that mari was the one who made the food. mari was responsible for dinner every night and lottie wouldn't eat anybody else's food. it was getting quite hard to convince her every day.

especially considering the fact that mari had died a while ago and lottie, lost in her own little world, were too absent to notice. well, she knew—she just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

"soup?" lottie's faint voice echoed yours, finally realizing that you were there. rarely did anything distract her from the strange symbols in the trees.

you watched as her eyes, dull and unfocused, flickered slightly at the mention of mari. it was a small victory, one you held on to desperately. lottie took the bowl with trembling hands, sipping the soup with a faraway look. you sat beside her, the cold ground pressing through your thin clothes, trying to offer her warmth with your presence.

it was freezing outside but, somehow, it was the only place she felt safe and you didn't want to make anything worse than already was.

"hey, lot, do you remember the night we all sat around the campfire on the first day? when laura lee said that we crashed because she called her piano teacher a cunt?" you asked softly, hoping to draw her out, even if just for a moment.

it was a funny memory overall. everyone was terrified but yet, that one time brought a momentarily relief to everyone.

lottie paused, her eyes briefly flickering with recognition before the fog settled back in. she nodded faintly, lips threatening to curl up, but her gaze remained distant. it was as if she was here, yet not here at all. you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

𖠋

days turned into weeks, and lottie's situation only worsened. the forest around you seemed to close in, the shadows growing longer and darker and winter was only getting started. you knew you had to do something, but every day felt like a losing battle.

one particularly cold night, you wrapped lottie in your arms, trying to keep her warm. everyone else was sleeping around the weak fire, but she was shivering even under all the clothes. sitting by her side, you were determined to make her sleep at least a few hours.

"aren't you sleepy?" you whispered, holding her tighter. if it wasn't for the fire, your only source of light, you'd barely be able to see her.

completely focused on the light and intrigued by the crackling noises, lottie finally said something, her voice a broken whisper, "do you think they're watching us?"

"who?" appreciating the fact that you were finally hearing her voice after days, you didn't mind her ignoring your question. definitely wasn't sleepy but very much tired.

"they don't want us to leave," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "i can feel them… always watching, waiting."

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice tender. "lottie, no one's watching us. it's just you, me and the girls. we're safe here. i promise."

but she shook her head, a haunted look in her eyes. "no, you don't understand. they're always watching. they won't let me go."

you didn't know who she was referring to, but nodded either way, hoping to calm her fears. how could you ever push her away or call her crazy in this cirscunstance?

"we'll be okay, lottie. i won't let anything happen to you." she fell silent again, staring into the fire, back to get lost in her thoughts.

"hey, don't worry," you give her shoulder a gentle bump to hopefully catch her attention, "if they ever try to get you, i'll throw a ball in their face like nat did to shauna that one time."

lottie let out a small, almost imperceptible chuckle. it was a sound you had missed, a tiny beacon of hope. "that was funny," she whispered, her voice still distant but a bit lighter.

𖠋

it took lottie several extra hours to fall asleep, while you managed only two or three hours at best, always alert and prepared to comfort her if necessary. you knew the other girls were there, but she didn’t trust them enough. neither did you, honestly. they were always gentle with her, of course, but you preferred to take care of her yourself.

still groggy, you jumped up from the makeshift bed on the ground, finding lottie in the lake. everything below her knees was submerged in the icy water, and the sight made you panic. rushing toward her, you stopped at the edge before the water could touch your skin.

“lottie, it’s too cold to swim now,” you exclaimed, your words punctuated by the splashing of your feet in the shallow water. “can you come back, please?”

for a moment, she didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the tranquil surface of the lake. then, slowly, she turned to face you, her expression distant yet strangely calm.

"it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "the water feels nice."

your heart clenched at her words but you knew you had to be there for her when she needed you most. taking a deep breath, you waded into the water towards her, your hand outstretched in a silent invitation. "come on, let's go back inside," you said gently, your voice was a soothing presence in the stillness of the very silent morning. "we can change clothes and have breakfast together."

“inside?” she stopped following your steps, the frigid water stinging your skin. looking back, you saw her confusion.

"it's warmer in there. you are freezing here, baby, and your clothes are all wet," you explain, holding her hand.

"fire," she frowns, "remember?"

right. the cabin had been burned to the ground months ago. how did you forget that?

"it's alright. we can find some other place."

"but the girls?" she asked immediately, searching around. you noticed her muscles tensing.

"they're in there already," you promised, being cautious when placing a kiss on lottie's cheek. "come on."

"is mari cooking breakfast there?" still wary, lottie rooted herself to the ground, grasping your hand before you could continue walking.

"she is, sweetheart."

“mom and dad too?” for the first time in weeks, lottie was mentioning her parents again. god, you hated them. what kind of people would abandon their own daughter in a different country like that? yes, they paid for it but yet—

“i’ll give them another call.”

𖠋

a soft knock on the door broke stirred you from your thoughts. there stark, white walls of the psychiatric ward came back into focus. lottie still slept soundly, her head nestled on your shoulder. finally, a full night’s rest.

you look at the door as lottie's usual nurse stepped in, giving you a sympathetic smile. "how is she today?"

you glanced down at lottie, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “improving,” you replied softly. “she’s slept through the night.”

the middle-aged woman nodded, looking pleased. "that's good to hear. keep talking to her. it seems to help."

“i will,” you assured her. you never missed a day without visiting lottie, even booking the nearest hotel just to be close. spending days and nights with her was routine now, something her parents’ money afforded her. “any word from them?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

“not yet,” she exhales, glancing momentarily at lottie still asleep while clinging to your arm. “but i’m sure they’ll visit her soon,” she tries to cheer you up.

"and let's try to keep her out of the water fountain again," she adds with a gentle laugh, mentioning yesterday’s situation. "we don't want her to catch a cold now."

it could be freezing cold in switzerland’s winter.

[bagerfluff]

Hello, saw your work on Casper’s scar and I’m now wondering if u could write about male (or nonbinary, up to u) reader that has an injury from one of Caspers attempts to kill em and how Casper would react to seeing those scars. Love ur works.

An: Your wish is my command. I really love this idea. Thank you for the ask, and I hope you like it. Have a good day/night/afternoon, and don't forget to drink water :)

The Past Is The Past

Casper x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - Scars

"Then I was like, no that's wrong", you said.

Casper nodded, wanting to know what happened next. You had just gotten home from work and Casper was listening to you rant about work.

Mortals seemed to be really stupid somethings.

Casper was about to ask what happened next when he noticed something. You removed your jacket and Casper noticed a scar on your arm.

"what's what?" Casper asked, getting off the bed to walk towards you. Casper felt his blood boil. Who dared to this to his sunshine. You followed Casper's gaze.

"Oh this, yeah I got it when that grand piano fell from a window", you said, smiling at the weird memory, now that you know it was Casper that did that.

Meanwhile, Casper wasn't smiling.

He had done that, Casper was the one to do that. Casper had hurt you, he was the one who dared. Casper reached forward, touching the top of the scar.

You flinched, "does it hurt", Casper asked. Drawing his finger back a bit. "No, not really. It's pretty old, maybe a few years", you said. Casper touched it again.

Running his finger up and down it. It was light pink against your skin, it was right below your shirt. On your upper arm right above your elbow.

Casper did this, he had hurt you years ago. "You okay Casper?" You asked, noticing Casper looked a little out of it. "I did this", Casper said, still tracing the scar.

You looked back at the scar, "yeah you did, but that was years ago", you said. Casper looked at you, "but I did it, I hurt you", Casper said, his voice full of hatred for himself.

"Do you have more?"

Casper asked, still tracing your scar. You sighed, knowing that you weren't getting out of this. You moved away from Casper and removed your shirt.

You held your shirt in your hands as Casper looked over you. Scars were over your back and arms. "There's more on the legs", you said. "This ones from the fire at work", you said.

Pointing to a burn scar. You started telling Casper about all of the scars, all from this Casper did. Casper watched with a blank face. He did all of this.

Casper traced each scar as you told him about them. Each one a failed attempt at your death. Casper felt tears brim his eyes but he blinked to keep them away.

Casper was feeling really guilty.

He did this, to the person he loved. Loved more then anything. "I'm sorry", Casper said. Tracing the largest scar on your back. "It's fine, it's in the past", you said.

Though you knew Casper wasn't convinced.

"You didn't know me then, you were just doing what you thought was right", you said. You took Casper's free hand and held it. His other still on your scar.

"You wouldn't do it again and your sorry you even did it, that's all I need", you said with a smile. Casper looked at you, you were fine with it.

You weren't mad at him.

You weren't angry that Casper hurt you, because it was in the past. Casper was sorry and he will never hurt you again. "You're right", Casper grabbed your arm and lifted it.

Casper placed a kiss on your scar, "I will never hurt you again", Casper said. You smiled, "that's all I want, now back to my story", you said before going back to ranting.

Casper smiled, he would never hurt you again.

[retromotherfuckers]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

[choochooboss]

Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

[hold-him-down]

13, 32, 42, 47, 48 and 50 for Leo

p.s. sry for being so greedy 🫣

from this ask game.

13) How much time are you forced to spend by Ivan's side?

"Most of the time, when I'm awake," Leo says, voice hoarse. "He has six workers under contract right now, I think." His eyes stay on the floor as he speaks. "In the beginning, it wasn't as bad, though. He only recently took a–" he swallows, choosing his words carefully "–took a particular interest in me. On nights that he wants me to fight, I usually... I don't, do what he wants, and so I c..." He pulls in a deep, heavy breath. "I don't get to sleep until the last of the guests leave, and then he usually has his men clean me up and bring me to him. When I wake up, it's bec-cause he's woken me up, and I spend most of the day with him in some form."

He forcibly draws in another breath, the color draining from his skin as pauses, closing his eyes.

"On days that he's busy with business, he usually leaves me to his men. I don't know which is better." ( -Leo, answered during the middle of the Ivan contract)

32) Where do you feel safer - with lots of people in the room or with Parker alone?

"With Parker alone," Leo says gently. He smiles, a sad but hopeful thing, and half-shrugs. "When he's alone, I feel like he's more genuine. I know Parker is imperfect... I know that he is, but I think he means well, and when we're alone, I get to see that side of him more. When he's in front of his friends, or his family, or even his colleagues... I never quite know which side of him I'll get. But alone, I think I trust him." ( -Leo, answered during the early parts of the Parker contract)

42) How much do you miss your past life, if you do so? Which aspects of it do you miss the most?

"I don't really allow myself to miss it," Leo says now. He speaks more easily, with less attention to when and where his buyer may be lingering. "For a long time, I didn't allow myself to think about it at all. Luke has asked, a couple times, but they kind of beat my ability to talk freely about my family out of me in training." He sips a bottle of water, and for a moment, you can see him considering a life he did not get the chance to live. "I miss my family most of all, though. If I tried to contact them, I don't know what kind of trouble that would put them in. I know what the DLS threatened me with, but I don't know if it was real or not. Luke's offered, though, a few times... to try."

He sucks in a sharp breath. "I don't think I'm ready for that, though. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to cope with the risk of what that could do to them." (-Leo, answered well into Luke's contract)

47) How much have you changed since the first day in captivity?

Leo's jaw locks and he glares at the camera, but one hand wraps around his stomach and the other grips into his shoulder. He won't touch the collar, or try, in any way, to interfere with what he knows will come next, but it doesn't mean he won't try to brace himself for it.

"Leo," the handler says from the corner. His voice is a mixture of equal parts annoyance and bewilderment at the late-stage act of defiance, and he reaches for the remote. "Just answer the question."

Leo doesn't, and just before the screen goes black, you hear the start of a gutteral scream. ( -Leo, not answered a couple months into initial training)

48) Do you have any plans or hopes for the future now?

Leo is calm when the camera is turned back on, although his face is red, and his fingers shake. He swallows, and says softly, "I hope to f-fulfill whatever requests prospective buyers have of me." ( -Leo, answered an hour after the last one)

50) Share one of your happiest moment of freedom for us!

Leo smiles in earnest. "The first time Luke played the piano for me is, to this day, one of my favorite early memories. I guess it wasn't exactly a moment of 'freedom,' because I was still very much under contract, but it feels like the beginning of my 'freedom', looking back. The first time he played it, I didn't even realize he knew how. I kind of thought the piano was there for show, and mourned its neglect constantly. One night he beat me home, and when I walked in I could hear it, and I think it was one of the first times I felt excited for something, in as long as I could remember. I couldn't wait to go watch him. It was one of the turning points for us, where he started playing again, almost every night, and eventually I did, too." ( -Leo, answered several years later)

[fandomsnstuff]

Second last day!!!!! One more to go!!!! We're almost done @taznovembercelebration

Three guesses what this one's about (shocking no one, it's blups)

Day 29: musical

Lup's just trying to get the rust off her violin skills for the challenge the Legato Conservatory has posed them when she finds someone she didn't expect at a piano.

Read it on AO3

Lup's heading to one of the practice rooms in the Legato Conservatory's music building late one night to keep brushing up on her violin basics. One of the doors isn't shut completely, letting a sliver of light out into the darkened hallway along with muffled piano music. She stops to quietly pull the door shut, but pauses as she sees the pianist through the window. 

Barry's eyes are lidded as he looks down at the keys, and his hands glide easily over the keys. It's a simple enough tune, but it's soft and sweet and beautiful. He has no sheet music, playing simply from memory. Lup stands with her hand on the doorknob, watching him. She doesn't want to interrupt him. 

He finishes his song, and takes a deep breath, lowering his hands into his lap. 

She opens the door slowly, “Barry?” 

He jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion. “Lup?” He relaxes, “what are you doing here?” 

She lifts the violin case. “Same as you, apparently. I didn't know you play piano.” 

He sighs, running a hand lightly over the keys. “I don't, really. My mom put me in lessons as a kid to… build my confidence or something. I couldn't tell you the last time I touched a piano, even before the mission.” 

“You sounded good.” 

He smiles, still looking at the piano. “Thanks. I'm still really rusty, but I couldn't think of anything else to do for this.” He looks up at her, and nods to the case in her hand, “violin? I hear that's really hard to learn.”

She laughs sheepishly. “Yeah… one of the caravans Taako and I traveled with had a handful of bards. They said we'd get a cut of profits if we played with them, so I got one of them to teach me. Taako wasn't interested, he stuck with cooking.” Her smile grows as the memory comes back, “the one who taught me said I had “fiddling fingers” so,” she lifts the case again, “fiddle.” 

“Fiddling fingers sounds inappropriate.” She barks out a laugh. Barry puts on a deep, gruff voice, “you could fiddle something with those fingers, young lady.”  

Lup leans against the wall as she laughs, brushing tears away. “Oh my god,” she takes a deep breath, “I never thought about it that way.” 

He makes grabby hands and in the same mocking voice says, “or maybe you want to try out my fiddle fingers.” 

She clutches her imaginary pearls. “How dare you! Trin was a perfectly respectable and pleasant young man.” Barry laughs as Lup tuts and shakes her head. “I never thought you'd be one to disrespect the consumed.” 

His smile fades slightly and his eyes drop back to look at the piano. 

“Hey…” she puts her violin down and walks over to him, sliding her hands over his shoulders, “you okay? I'm just poking fun.” 

“Yeah,” one of his hands comes up to cover hers, “I'm just…” he sighs deeply and his voice wavers, “my mom…” 

“Oh, Bear.” She sits next to him and draws him into her arms. He drops his head onto her shoulder and wraps his arms around her, holding her close. She slides her fingers into his hair. 

He doesn't cry, he's just silent for a while. She's learned by now that sometimes he just needs someone there. They've talked about his mom a lot. She was the only person he was leaving behind for the mission, and when he was finally comfortable enough with Lup, he started telling her everything he could remember. She's heard a lot of childhood stories. She loves learning about baby Barry. 

When he withdraws from her, she brushes the back of her fingers against his cheek and cups his jaw, bringing him in to rest their foreheads together. “Feeling okay?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly, his eyes closed. “Sometimes it just hits harder.” 

“I know.”

“It was a lullaby. The song I was playing. She used to sing it to me, it was the first thing I ever learned on piano.” 

“Will you play it for me?” 

His eyes open, and she gets lost in the ocean of them as they meet hers. “Okay,” he whispers. He sits up and turns back to the keys. He takes a breath, then starts to play. After a few measures, he starts singing quietly. Lup's heart swells. She wants to link her arm with his and rest her head on his shoulder, but she doesn't want to mess him up. She presses closer to him, his warmth seeping into her where their sides touch. 

It's when he finishes that she slides her arms around his middle and leans her head on his shoulder. “Beautiful,” she says. 

He lifts his arm over her and settles it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I'm not much of a singer.”

“I like your voice. I'm sure it could soothe a baby to sleep.” She's long since stopped trying to force away the image of Barry with a tiny baby half elf in his arms that comes to her in moments like these. 

She can hear the smile in his voice, “you think so?” 

“Mhm.” She closes her eyes. “In fact, it's soothing me to sleep right now.” 

“I don't think so,” he jostles her lightly, “you've got fiddling to do.” 

She giggles. “I know something I'd like to fiddle.” 

She doesn't need to look at him to know he's rolling his eyes. “Come on, you need to practice.” She stays firmly in place. “I played for you, it's only fair you play for me.” 

She groans and laboriously tears herself away from him. “Why do you have to be so logical?” She crouches and opens up her case, taking out the violin. “What do you want to hear?”

He shrugs. “Anything.”

“I don't know any classical stuff. We only played in taverns and town squares.” 

He laughs, “that's okay. Play me your favourite.” 

She puts her bow to the strings and says, “you asked for it.” 

She plays an upbeat tune with dirty lyrics that always got crowds going in taverns and made her teenage self giggle when she'd sing it. By the time she's finished, Barry's roaring with laughter. He gives her a standing ovation. 

“I think you should play that for your submission.” 

She snorts, putting the violin away. “I think the professor helping me would have an aneurysm if I did. She almost popped a vein in her forehead when I kept calling it a fiddle.” 

He sits back down. “Lame.” 

“What are you going to play?” 

“No idea. I thought about maybe trying to expand the lullaby? Make it more complex or elegant? But I don't want to risk losing it, you know?” Lup has an idea. She chews on it for a moment. Barry notices her gears turning. “What?” 

“What if we played something together?” 

[leotheponderer]

So...I've been tagged by @agirlandherquill who was tagged by @katwritesshit to participate in a tag game from @halfbakedspuds, so here goes!

Rules: Answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

The Prologue, featuring Kato(Death, Psychopomp, Thanatos), Halcyon(Sleep, Hypnos) and Basile(World, Hades, Persephone) dubbed The Old World Trio because they're the only beings from the Old World who still exist in the New World. The first location I visualised was the Border, which is where souls go before being taken to the Underworld.

The Border.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

[The Main Character by Will Wood] I love this song and it fits Kato's personality very well, especially during the Prologue. I can imagine Kato, Halcyon and Basile singing this together with Kato playing the Piano.

Abstract Kato playing the piano.

3. Who are your favourite character(s) and why?

My favourite has to be Kato, since they're the first character I ever created so I have lots of fond memories of going about developing their character. Halcyon came later as Kato's twin, and I grew to love their dynamic as siblings who then formed a found family with Basile. Halcyon would call Kato out on their bullshit and keep them in check while Basile is the reliable rock of the group.

Abstract Kato on the top and Abstract Halcyon on the bottom.

4. What other pieces of media could share a fan base with your WIP?

Some Rise of the TMNT fans may notice some similarities between Leo and Donnie's dynamic (the disaster twins) and Kato with Halcyon. I did base some of their personalities on the duo, Kato being Leo and Halcyon being Donnie, so that's not a surprise. There's also a found family dynamic (and FANTASY :D), so I think fans of Avatar: The Last Airbender and Ninjago could like the Prologue too!

5. What has been your biggest struggle while writing your WIP?

Coming up with names! I really struggled with naming everyone, especially Kato because I wanted the best for them and also because Thanatos and Death in general is hard to work with. I still do not have a name for my story, though I'm working on it. Plot and writing is also hard, so is visualising. (In summary, everything.)

My earliest digital drawing. Abstract Kato increasing their collection.

6. Are there any animals in your story?

Plenty! I have not touched the main world yet, but I do know the New World is teeming with life. The Underworld and the Border on the other hand, have its very own bioluminescent inhabitants like the Glow Fishes, the massive Blue Dragon and the Soul Butterflies. Now that I think about it, the Underworld really resembles the spirit world from Avatar.

Some animal concepts.

7. How do your characters get around?

Probably on foot, though I have though about using their powers, like shadow travel from Nico di Angelo. Some of them have physical wings like Volaria and Felix (bird people), while others like Kato and Halcyon in the Prologue have more spiritual ones. Maybe they have animal companions, summons or just teleport through plantlife (Basile).

Abstract Felix flying in a marathon.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I'm mostly working on the Prologue, with small bits of the First Interlude and the Main Story. I haven't started on the Epilogue yet, only the things I want to see happen like Halcyon and Basile going on a journey together.

9. What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Realistically speaking, art tends to get the most attention on Tumblr. In order to do that I'll need to work harder on drawing to show my story through visuals, and not just words. I'll have to doodle my way into people's hearts!

A place in the Old World.

Whew, that was a long one. I don't really know many people who have WIP stories since I'm pretty new to Tumblr, so I hope they don't mind me tagging them: @hansenesque @drawnecromancy @the-arcade-doctor @devgel7889

Anyone who wants to play this game can join in on the fun too!

Note: There are nine questions in total, listed here.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

3. Who are your favourite character(s) and why?

4. What other pieces of media could share a fan base with your WIP?

5. What has been your biggest struggle while writing your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story?

7. How do your characters get around?

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

[perdvivly]

Hi, I'm Viv. You may know me from such blogs as 'Ontologicalidiot' or 'Perdviv' or 'Perdecum'. But I'm not at any of those places anymore, I'm here now, and I'm sad.

I have a degree in Philosophy and a Masters in Logic and Philosophy of Mathematics and about half another Masters in Computer Science. My academic interests run along these lines.

My interests in philosophy tend to skew analytic but not exclusively so. I'm interested in logic, both classical and non-classical but particularly higher-ordered logic and paraconsistent logic. I'm also interested in the foundations of mathematics. One thing I haven't studied much but am currently meaning to get around to are extant neo-logicist programs. I typically assume logicism epistemologically dead at t=1931, but this is clearly not the case and I'd like to know what's going on there.

I'm interested in consciousness. Both hard and soft problems.

I studied axiomatic set theory at university but I never learned forcing, which I would like to do at some point in my life. I would also like to study category theory. I also want to learn more about homology and cohomology. And I'd like a working (read: quantitative) understanding of general relativity too.

As for less-academic interests:

I enjoy sports-ball! I'm the one who does that. I enjoy and am relatively good at athletics. In particular I really like swimming, climbing (boudlering), Brazillian jiujistu, and wrestling.

I am a board games lesbian (this is stolen valour, i'm not a lesbian, i'm very bisexual (but you understand that Boardgames-Lesbian is the type of guy I am)). I really like: Dominion, Catan, Articulate (poetry for neanderthals), Betrayal at House on the Hill, Codenames, Nomic, and Chess. I will very happily play anyone at chess whenever works for them! Always looking for more chess friends.

I really enjoy the arts. I especially enjoy and actively want to get better at: drawing, music, and poetry. In particular, I'm trying to work on portraiture and figure drawing--I'd like to one day get into oil painting but I am very intimidated by the amount of work I need to put in before this becomes viable for me. I used to play the drums when I was younger, I'd like to pick that up again. Percussion holds a place in my heart but I'm also compelled by piano and violin. I like music theory but Schoenberg took it too far (This is a goof (I'm also very goofic)).

I enjoy and may sometimes post about sex. I think talking about fetish and kink in an open dialogue is helpful for me to feel less isolated with respect to some of my desires. Though, better than talking is action.

I try to be as open as feels safe and comfortable, but I am also a deeply neurologically pathological person. I try my best to extend grace to others and this feels poignant to me because I know how often I need it too.

Also! At the start of 2023 I decided that I would start reading from scratch again. I made a new goodreads account and I told myself that I wouldn't add any books I'd read before 2023. I've found this pretty easy to keep to, though it's also a marvel how much I was able to read before. My time feels limited in ways I don't understand and that don't leave much room for extensive reading these days. Anyway, it's here if you want to check it out and add me as a friend :)

[misc-obeyme]

Hey, chat. I'm back, heheh 😈

I've been thinking many thoughts recently. Dangerous, I know. But it's too late.

I like to sing while I cook and bake, and I think many others do as well. I don't even listen to music while I sing, I just acapella it off of my memory for the lyrics. While I was making crêpes for breakfast this morning and singing City Of Stars from Lala Land, I got to thinking about Barbatos (as always)

Not only what his reaction would be when he caught me mindlessly singing, but how he may would join in. City Of Stars is a duet, after all, and a quite romantic one at that. Imagine him coming into the kitchen and starting to sing the other part in the duet while I stutter for a moment out of embarrassment from having been caught, only to continue on singing once he guides me into a slow waltz. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Even better, music room. Piano. Playing the piano side-by-side omgggg. From my knowledge, only Lucifer and Satan can canonically play the piano (sorry if I'm wrong. Please correct me!) But it totally makes sense that Barbatos could as well, right?

You're practicing in the music room when you become so absorbed in the melodies that you don't even notice Barbatos watching from the doorway. Infact, you don't notice anything until he's sat down right next to you to play the parts you're not advanced enough to play just yet.

Sigh. I need him.

I'm fairly certain I've talked about Barbatos reacting to an MC that sings while they work/bake at some point... just because I think someone else mentioned it, too! You're right, I think it's something a lot of people do!

I know I do. And I do the same thing, just a cappella style whatever is stuck in my head at the moment.

Barbatos is absolutely the kind of romantic that would dance with you in the kitchen. Especially if you were embarrassed about it!

It's very funny to me that you mention playing the piano together. I've been playing the piano for almost thirty years. So naturally, when I made my OC Arsenios a music demon, he has ended up playing the piano a lot in his story. It's kind of his main instrument. So I've been writing a lot of scenarios with MC and a piano playing demon lol!!

Anyway, getting off topic, sorry! I don't actually remember for sure who all can canonically play the piano. I know Lucifer can for sure. There's a UR card where Simeon learns how to play with MC and they put on little performance on some street piano. But I don't think that's mentioned anywhere else. I can't remember anyone else, so I'm just gonna take your word for it on Satan. He seems like he'd know how to play too.

As for Barbatos, I can't imagine a demon that old hasn't mastered multiple different instruments at this point. I mean why not, right? This is the thing, I kinda think you can just headcanon that the demons know how to do various things because they're so old, it makes sense that they've had the time to learn it.

I also like to think that Barbatos has a really lovely singing voice. I imagine him being a tenor with a really smooth voice that can soar into higher and lower registers with ease.

In fact, I really like the idea that Barb sometimes does the singing while working thing, too. I'd personally love to catch him in the act just to start singing along... watch that guy be surprised, but take it all in stride and then you guys are harmonizing and Diavolo and the little Ds are sneaking around nearby to listen...

Or if you're playing the piano at RAD, you end up drawing a little crowd of demons, huddled by the door because they wanna listen, but they're too afraid to disturb Barbatos to come all the way inside.

[spurious]

some mcshep fic recs

So ever since I answered that ask from Mer about McShep fic recs, I've been thinking about posting more recs. I have been reading, like, so much fic because there just...is so much fic out there? As I intimated in the answer to that last ask, I am...not used to this amount of fic. The last ship I seriously read and wrote fic for has 58 English-language works on AO3, 17 of which were written by me (and another large handful of which were written for me lmao), so it's, uh, kind of amazing to just be able to read and read and read and read and...still have more?

I've been using my AO3 bookmarks, but sometimes bookmarking is simply not enough and you need to scream at people about the things you have read. So, without further ado...let me scream at you about the things I have read!

-

1) 264 Hours by Lenore | ~6k, rated E

Set after Seige. The battle is over, except in Rodney's mind.

This one is just some nice Rodney emotional pain content; he’s fucked up over the events of the siege and John is trying, in his opaque Sheppardian way, to help, but it takes a perceptive sex worker and a confrontation to really get through to Rodney. I liked where this went but I almost wanted it to be longer and really draw things out? For the Suffering I guess lmao

2) Long Long Road by Telesilla & padawanhilary | (series) ~50k, rated E

While shopping, two college students run into each other. Literally.

This is an AU (that converges to canon eventually), where John and Rodney meet while at Stanford and find a mutual enjoyment of both each other and kinky sex. There are two branching endings, both of which end happily, the sex is really very very hot and good, and overall there's something that I just find extremely...cozy? About this series? I've read it twice now and I just find it nice and comforting and enjoyable.

3) Sheppard’s Law by Speranza | ~35k, rated E

"Weird? You don't know what weird is. Weird is being in a-- with the-- and the crazy alien--" He stopped, incoherent, hands flailing. "And then your best friend is twelve, and you're his piano teacher. That--now, you're talking weird!"

Honestly the idea of me in the year of our lord two thousand twenty three reccing McShep fic written by Speranza is like...asking someone who likes pizza if they've ever tried pepperoni lmao. NEVERTHELESS. I've now read this fic twice. The first time I thought it was good, but for whatever reason it didn't make that big of an impression on me? I have a feeling it's one of the ones I read before we finished the series when I was trying to find stuff that didn't spoil later season events? So anyway I just sort of randomly decided to reread it recently, and it really wowed me on a second go-round. I think the big-ness of it can be hard to wrap your head around, but when you do it's like...you feel both full and hollowed-out by it at the same time, because it's huge but it's also a collection of these snapshots and small moments that make up the whole. Idk it's just...it's good ok, read it if you haven't!

4) Ritual by lamardeuse | ~5k, rated T

The history of a ritual.

Beer 👏 on 👏 the 👏 pier 👏 As a team ritual, as the story of John’s love for Rodney, and as a beautiful coda to the shrine. John's POV in this is so gorgeously done, the way he's convinced himself of what he can and cannot have and is trying to deal with it the best way he can, even when it's immensely painful. I also like how Jennifer's part in things is handled in this, in terms of her reaction to Rodney's profession of love and how it stacks up against...literally everything else that happens in that episode.

5) Dumbstruck by sgamadison & the_cephalopod | ~30k, rated E

His existence, as he remembered it, began eleven days ago. He knew the word day was what to call the cycle between a single span of sunlight and darkness, but he could not remember what groupings of days were called. He didn't think it mattered much.

Due to...shenanigans, John loses his memories and becomes unable to speak. The thing I really love about this is how well Rodney knows John; how even when John can't speak for himself, Rodney clearly has this mental catalogue of Sheppard Expressions and he can deftly read and describe them. It's just...it's nice.

-

Anyway, I'm thinking I might make this a regular thing. I like talking about fics I like!!! Send me an ask or whatever if you have types of recs you want to see? Idk?

[sailforvalinor]

OC Mundane Tag Game

Tagged again by @accidental-spice--thanks for the tag!

Rules: Pick an OC you'd like to talk about and answer the questions for them! Then tag ten people, or as many as you can. 'Underdeveloped character I adopted' is fine, too! Absolutely no pressure to play, though

Also, if some of it can't apply to your OCs, just answer what would be the answer-- like if they're in a historical setting, they likely can't watch movies, but what is a movie they'd like?

(Also, most people have many ocs, so feel free to retag people and answer as many times as you get tagged! Or get really wild and just answer for as many ocs as you'd like! :D)

Since I talked about Ace last time, it's only fair that I talk about Joker :D

1. What is their favorite movie?

I feel like Joker's taste in movies is pretty eclectic (especially as she has all of time and space to draw on!), but the first thing that came to mind was White Christmas (the dance numbers!) and Hitchcock's To Catch a Thief (she idolizes Grace Kelly). I do associate her quite a bit with that classic Hollywood era, but I find I haven't actually watched a ton of them? If anyone has suggestions, I will gladly take them.

2. What is their favorite season?

Most definitely spring--beauty, rebirth, gorgeous flowers, etc etc. Actually, Ace's favorite being winter and hers being spring is pretty fitting, now that I think about it.

3. What do they find annoying?

People with a lack of imagination, when people don't appreciate things she's enthusiastic about, when she can't find the perfect outfit, bad hair days.

4. How would they like to spend their Christmas or equivalent holiday?

She really would love anything as long as she's not celebrating alone--she has done some pretty spectacular things on her hundreds of Christmases past (sneaking into one of Queen Victoria's Christmas parties, going ice skating on a planet of ice palaces, visiting the Christmas Theme Park that Australia built on the moon in 3489 that only lasted a year (turns out it was because of her, actually), but she mostly does these sorts of things to distract herself from how lonely she is, as Christmas is a pretty family-oriented holiday and that's when she feels it most acutely. Needless to say, her Christmases become much lovelier with Ace around.

5. Do they play an instrument? If so, what? How good are they at it?

I imagine she's probably collected almost every instrument imaginable, and can at least make most of them make sound, but she only really plays acoustic guitar (specifically really finger-plucky stuff) and probably a bit of piano. She also sings, and unlike Ace, has no qualms about doing so whenever the mood strikes. And sometimes it strikes at odd times.

6. What's their favorite meal to eat?

Ooh, this one is hard. I feel like she would be one to be constantly excited about trying different kinds of food--but as for a favorite of hers, the first thing that comes to mind is tiramisu for some reason. There is also always a hot pot of tea in her TARDIS without exception.

7. Do they have a favorite video game or board game?

Joker does strike me as a video game girl--I can see her being a Final Fantasy/Kingdom Hearts fan (and unlike all of us, she actually has the time on her hands to play every Final Fantasy game, lol). As for board games, I think she would probably like Life, as well as some of those newer fantasy games with a ton of worldbuilding like Scythe. Of course, she probably never played them much up until she met Ace, as playing board games against an AI avatar gets boring very fast. She's also so bad at chess that the first time she played with Ace, he was dead convinced that she had let him win.

8. Do they celebrate their birthday?

Poor Joker is an amnesiac--she has no memory of who she is or where she came from, and only knows the simple fact that she is a Time Lord, and her first memory was floating in the vacuum of space-time as a child in her TARDIS. (I'm not even sure that she knows about the Time War. It's difficult to believe that she wouldn't have heard about it after so much time, so she probably knows...?) Thus she has no idea when her birthday is, so she just picked a random day and celebrated it in much the same fashion as she does Christmas. After she meets Ace, she usually convinces him to take her out dancing (which, to his credit, doesn't usually take too much persuading).

9. What's their bedtime routine?

Do Time Lords sleep? I've been getting conflicting answers about this. I'm gonna go with "sometimes," and in those cases, pretty nightdress, cup of tea, usually plays music.

10. What's an OC (or canon character) they like to spend time around? What do they tend to do together?

Ace is the first person she has ever truly connected with beyond the surface-level, despite their very disparate personalities. I don't want to give too much away too early, but what I will say is that initially, Joker views Ace a little bit like a project, and he views her as a character stepped straight out of a fairy story who is too otherworldly to be real and must have some secret agenda for bringing him with her, and thus distrusts her, but they slowly but surely overcome this rockiness. She sees something in Ace that he refuses to see in himself—but I really can’t say more without spoiling things. Joker is very verbally affectionate, often referring to Ace as “my Ace” or “darling.” He makes a very noble effort to hide how flustered he is by this.

As for what they do together, they of course have their time-traveling adventures (and sometimes run into the Doctor and his companions). I'd say they're a bit more like tourists than the Doctor and Rose are, they tend to go to different times and places with the intent of exploring and sightseeing and their adventures are rarely, if ever, premeditated. Also, as I mentioned earlier, they love to go out dancing--the Doctor and Rose are half-convinced that they're just on a dance tour of the universe, as 50% of the time they run into them, they're checking out the local social dancing scene.

Also, I mentioned this in my post about Ace, but Joker loves introducing him to movies, tv shows, music, and other kinds of media that he missed out on in his time. In return, Ace reads aloud to her a lot--it sort of began out of his frustration that she constantly leaves half-read books around and forgets to finish them, but then it just kind of became a habit.

Tagging @o-lei-o-lai-o-lord @rainintheevening @novelmonger @mythicalartisttm and anyone else who has oc's they'd like to talk about!

[eldritch-nightmare]

you seem like the type of person whos tried making a creepypasta before this isn't an insult or anything by the way thats just the vibe i get from you

thank you??

you would be correct. i did try writing a creepypasta, way back when i was 12 years old. i didn't. never finished her bc i utterly despised writing back then. it was like... the bane of my existence. my worst enemy.

this anon is now going to provide top-secret v lore bc memories flooded my brain when i saw it so!! pretend there's nostalgic piano music playing magically in the air as i clear my throat.

ahem.

if you knew me from 2014 to roughly 2017 or 2018 (which i certainly hope you do not) then you already know this but i used to rp in this fandom. heavily. on quotev dot com. i still do rp, though not for creepypasta anymore because i lost contact with the people i used to rp with. i do however like making random accounts on q bc i made a jeff the killer account and i also plan on making a bloody painter one and also perchance maybe a nina one bc i have no sense of self control.

so, fun fact, all the creepypasta roleplays i did is what honestly made me get into writing but anyways.

i typically just roleplayed as the creepypastas since that's what everyone else did, y'know? original characters and self-inserts were looked down upon at the time because people thought it was 'cringe' and because i desperately wanted to be cool and accepted, i never really. roleplayed as my ocs. not that i had any fleshed out enough to rp as but. we'll get to that in a moment.

so, the three creepypastas that i roleplayed as exclusively, never once rping as any other because my mind latched onto them and refused to fucking let go, was homicidal liu, and both jane the killers. but mostly jane arkensaw. i love arkensaw so much it makes me look like a fool, honestly, and the way that i write her today is still heavily influenced by how i used to write her when i would roleplay. i never wanted to stop roleplaying for creepypasta because they are so near and dear to my heart but a lot of stuff was going on at the time and my friends at the time had moved on from the fandom so i just... stopped.

now, on the topic of ocs. i never had a fully fleshed out creepypasta oc. i always found it difficult to make one?? because it felt like there were a bunch of guidelines on how to properly make an oc so the oc wasn't 'cringe' or whatever and i found the whole thing to be tedious and annoying so i just never properly made an oc. i would come up with concepts, and would even draw some out every now and then but i threw all those drawings out.

i was, and still am, however, a big fucking fan of self-inserts. i only ever rped as a self-insert with one person bc they were the only person i knew that was chill with it and self-shipping and fucking hell it was the best rp i have ever done in my entire writing career nothing has ever compared to it man. the way we did it was we would control our two characters, our self-inserts, and then i would control the character they wanted to be shipped with and they would control the character i wanted to be shipped with. you... you can guess who that was i don't have to tell you, you already know. and we would make our self-inserts friends and have them interact and then they would meet the two creepypastas they were gonna get shipped with and it would slowly branch off so they'd have their own things going on so it was like two separate stories that still connected, and we would discuss what to do next in the rp in a separate message and.

god. it was one of the best moments of my life, excitedly sitting there and continuously checking my notifs, waiting to see a notification telling me they replied to our rp. i miss it, truly. both roleplaying with a friend and roleplaying as a self-insert. i never understood why self-shipping was frowned upon back then, because it was probably the most fun and cathartic thing i've ever done tbh.

thankfully, i've grown and no longer feel the need to please people so i happily and proudly ship myself with characters <3

anyways this got way off track to the anon uh, sorry. but!! special v lore!! yippee!! the more you know, i guess.

[kopivie]

y'know, it's kinda funny that i asked myself why i write. over the years, people have asked me that a lot. i've had graded assignments ask me that question quite a bit. "why do you write? what is your motivation for writing?"

...my answers were always pretty bleak. "i write because i'm scared to talk to others." or: "i write because nobody will listen to me." and outside of those assignments, i've never genuinely asked myself why i write.

well.. warning for a big ol' dump here, i guess. this blog is basically a diary, so you know the drill.

the story always starts in the same place: in the back of the empty sanctuary of my childhood church with sunlight pouring in the stained glass windows, the colors pooling on the pages of my blue composition notebook. i was ten years old.

looking back on it now, i don't know why my story starts there. i think that's just the earliest time i can remember getting immersed in the act of writing. kind of like how people describe their earliest childhood memory as the day their consciousness fully developed. but that day was so colorful to me – more so than most days from my childhood. an old friend was plinking tv show tunes on the piano at the front of the sanctuary, a few older kids were chatting away in the frontmost pews, and i was standing at the back on the left side near the window, scribbling in my notebook about... magical girl anime. at the very least, i know why i was writing back then.

back then, i had a friend who was writing her own story. completely original with characters she was drawing as she went. the stories were written in screenplay format in her notebook with little doodles to give the stories some life and... i wanted to do that. i asked her to teach me how to draw – which she did with enthusiasm – but what intrigued me more was the writing aspect. i already had a habit of conjuring up vivid imagery in my head when reading, but the thought of being able to do that myself was amazing to me.

my ten year old brain lacked the creativity to create characters from scratch. naturally, i had to start with something i already loved – something i could easily reference and build up from there – so i started with sailor moon.

sailor moon, tokyo mew mew, pripara, pretty rhythm: aurora dream, precure... (all of which used to be uploaded to youtube with each episode fragmented into three parts, i might add.) ...that's where my writing journey begins. i used to write fanfiction in the same screenplay format. i filled several notebooks cover to cover with my big, messy handwriting. i wish i still had those notebooks. but the point is that i had no need for the artwork – my mind was enough.

i later developed a love for mythology – greek mythology, specifically. it expanded into astrology, anthology, and gemology... i would always weave these things into my works somehow. my love of linguistics would come into play as i'd learn languages and cultures just to use them for the sake of giving my writing more depth.

now that i'm looking back on all of this, i... don't think i ever had a purpose. when i began, i wanted to be like my friend. i wanted to show her that i could do it, too. later, i just wrote because i wanted to create characters in the animated worlds that i loved to lose myself in; it was a form of escapism, i think. it was definitely escapism from high school onward since my mental health worsened from 2017-2022, but before that.. there's nothing.

which is a little scary, y'know? realizing that i lack a purpose – that my writing lacks a purpose. the very hobby i decided to dedicate my future to feels meaningless now.

i wrote to replicate someone else. i wrote to escape my own thoughts; i wrote to comfort myself when i needed affection the most: i wrote to comfort and connect with others, but i also wrote to shield myself from my own reality.

i think the reason why this feeling of existential dread exists is because i'm finally in a place where i'm perceiving myself. for almost a decade now, i didn't want to be perceived by anybody, much less myself. i didn't think of myself as a person. i didn't exist. i was just some worthless lump of meat on this doomed earth who just so happened to know how to string words together. i was irreversibly flawed and unlovable.

i'm at a point where i now know what kind of person i am. i can look back on how broken i once was and be saddened by the pieces. i can finally pick up those pieces and put them together; i can set them aside and start anew using those pieces as a reference. what i'm saying is: i can see myself. i finally know what i look like. (i still don't understand how i look to others, but that's besides the point.)

but when my whole purpose for writing was to avoid that – to avoid seeing myself – what happens now? why do i write?

that's the reason why i haven't written about anything for a while now. i have nothing to hide from. i wither and rot for a few days at a time and then come out stronger, ready to brush it all away and move forward. i never did that before. before, i would wither and rot for months, and write to fill the void. i wrote recklessly and without abandon just to get my feelings out there in hopes that someone would hear my voice and know that i'm alive.

in essence, i saved my life through writing. literature saved my life. but now that i've taken the reins, i don't know what to do.

i refuse to leave it behind. i still have my creative spirit. i still have these passing ideas, these bursts of inspiration that characterized my teenage years. but the flames of passion die quickly without any kindling, leaving me lost. i feel hollow without writing but lighter without my agony weighing me down all the time.

...i'm lost. i don't know what to do. i'm more insecure in my writing than i have ever been in my entire life, and that scares me. i want to try, but there's this... block. a lack of emotion that i can't quite explain. there's more apprehension than there is inspiration, so my creativity shrivels up and dies, leaving me disgusted and horrified by myself. i don't know what to do.

i'm not going to give up.

i'm not. little by little, i will try to find my new meaning. i don't know what it will take for me to find it, but i will. maybe i'll just sit and do some research on my favorite topics when i get home? do some bullet journaling on my favorite things and dedicate time to making pages of my favorite facts. maybe something will blossom then.