#i had so much fun with this!

[magisav]

Here is the colored version of my last post! With a tag along! Lol. There’s two more parts to this series! I’m mostly done with the others! I had loads of fun with these! Let me know what you think!

[squeaky-potat]

Aquarium Date 🐠

[carladuquette]

Top 13 Elite moments: #1

Valerio gets Lu to lie - 3.08

The way Val is the only one who can get through to Lu in her panic 😭 She’s so in shock her entire body is shaking, and then Val touches his forehead to hers and Lu is like *nods “I can do this.” The writers manage to tell us so much about Lu and Val’s history with those few lines about the car, the carpet and the pink dog. I love VaLu and I love this with my whole heart - my favorite Elite scene of all time 🩷

[billowyy]

Pride on the Pitch: Couple Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt Discuss Being Queer in Football

(ao3 with text only version)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I'd like to request a snippet for a justice-driven homicidal Vampire Hunter getting bitten by his long-time femdommy Vampire rival and enjoying it far more than he expected. Can be as suggestive as you wish <3

He didn’t talk for a long, long time. He just watched her curiously, not really sure what he would do, now that he was alone in a room with her again.

Last time turned out horribly wrong with her destroying all his weapons and pushing him against the wall. He wasn’t one to lose his composure easily but that one was…challenging.

“Ugh. You again?” she asked. Her pupils were dilated, two massive black holes in a dimly lit room that sucked him in. “Come back later.”

His eyes fell on the shards on the floor, the deep scratches in the wooden desk. A drawer was destroyed, torn into pieces. Usually, order was important to her. Wherever she was, there was a certain grace that followed her.

“I’m here to finally end this,” the vampire hunter said. “And I’m not leaving this room until I do.”

Usually, she would’ve laughed at that. She liked to tease him. Make fun of him.

But she didn’t say a thing, she just rolled her eyes and groaned. One hand sank into her smooth hair, grabbing her skull as she was squeezing her eyes together.

He’d never seen her like this before. Tortured like that.

Oh god.

She seemed to be in pain, fingers grabbing the desk hard enough to make the wood crack. Was she sick? Injured?

“I’ll make this quick. Some hunters capture vampires and force them to walk in the sun until they die.” This was mercy, wasn’t it? It’s what he had to do, what he was trained to do.

“Aren’t you a sunshine?” she asked. Her eyes found him again and hunger and insanity seemed to mix in them. He was more enticed than he should’ve been.

He’d been after her for months now, had spent years trying to end her. So many times, he’d been this close.

And he kept hesitating every single time. Sometimes he cursed himself for that. She seemed to be so much better at being his enemy.

“Look, pretty boy.” She looked at him and he noticed that her eyes were bloodshot. “I will decapitate you with my hands and let your head rot on my desk if you don’t leave now.”

“You’re sick.”

“So I’ve been told,” she said.

“No. You’re sick. You’re ill. Something’s wrong.” He took a step towards the desk, watching her hands, her body to detect any signs of danger but she didn’t seem to be capable of fighting right now. Her muscles tensed and relax almost rhythmically. “I can’t kill you when you’re ill.”

Technically, not true.

He took another step towards her, trying to reach her with his hand.

“I’m good with medicine and I have enough knowledge about vampires to help you, just let me—”

He didn’t know exactly why he was acting like an absolute idiot. When it came to her, his brain shut off and showed no signs of going back up.

She snatched his wrist and slammed it into the wall, panting as she pressed him against it once again. Her fangs hovered over his bare skin. He felt her breath on his neck, heavy and fast, and god, he realised how lonely he was.

“You have to go,” she said.

“I’ve never seen you act like this,” he said, his heart hammering in his chest. He concentrated on her body, trying to think of any sickness she could have. Nothing came to mind. “I’ve never seen a vampire act like this.”

“I…” She let her head drop, still panting, still clawing at his wrist. Their chests were touching and he was sure he was going insane when her forehead rested on his shoulder. “I’m trying to starve myself.”

“What?” he whispered, angry at the thought and confused why she would want to do that.

“My niece died three months ago of old age. She was the last of my family. They’re all dead now. I haven’t tasted blood since.”

“Are you insane?! Three months?” Her breath was slowing, her grip loosening. He knew she was probably at the end of her tether, with his heart beating hard enough for the two of them to hear. It probably took all her composure not to make a meal out of him.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she said. “I would’ve asked you but…I don’t think you can kill me.”

“Excuse me?”

She raised her head to look up at him.

“No offence,” she said, studying his face. He was probably drenched in red, even though he wanted to play it cool. “Fuck, you’re so adorable…”

He knew how unfair life could be. A long time ago she had mentioned that she never wanted to be a vampire in the first place.

To watch everyone around her die, to be alone for good…he swallowed, touched by how much he could relate to that.

It wasn’t easy, this profession. Most people didn’t make it to their 30s.

“Bite me,” he whispered gently.

“What?”

“Bite me,” he said again. “Please. I’ll beg for it if I have to. Please, help yourself.”

She was tired, he could tell. Maybe that was why she didn’t argue. Her nails dug into his shoulders and if that wasn’t enough to ruin him already, she licked his neck generously, sucking on the spot she wanted. He cursed quietly, trying to hold onto her hips but she was faster and pressed his wrists above his head with one hand.

The other found his jawline and followed it. When she was done with her preparations, she pressed a kiss to the wet spot on his neck and moved on to brush her lips against his.

“Is this really what you want?”

“Might as well have some fun before I kill you, huh?” He chuckled nervously. God, he was rusty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched like this.

“Don’t get cocky now,” she warned, lifting her knee to press it between his thighs. “Don’t get cocky…”

He groaned, nearly whimpered and leaned his head back, eyes rolling into the back of his head. He wondered if this was how everyone who got bitten by her felt like and that thought alone made him jealous.

He was a starved man, he realised. Starved like her, for other reasons and maybe for the same reason. He had expected her to be ice cold and though her skin was a lot cooler than his, she was comforting.

Being close to her made him feel at peace. It was as if he’d known her in his previous lives, as if this was meant to be. He couldn’t allow himself to think thoughts like that…

“Please…”

“Shhh, my love.” She sucked a hickey into his neck and it slowly dawned on him that she was edging herself. Sucking that blood to the surface, taking her time…or maybe she just wanted to edge him.

Maybe she was just as nervous as he was, maybe she was just as rusty. He couldn’t tell. And he didn’t care. He cursed himself for all the wasted years.

One last time, her tongue went over his skin and then, he felt a sharp pain, followed by sweet release and an overwhelming amount of pleasure.

He wanted to hunt her for eternity, he wanted to hate her, he wanted to call her his undying nemesis so bad but above all, he wanted to fall asleep on her chest with her long fingers buried in his hair.

[kitcatcourt]

✦Noel Gruber Agere Moodboard✦

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Chiaroscuro ⸸

Fingers splayed forward and when the aether thickened within the room, the torches along the walls within the stone sanctum flared to life, the other hand of the witch-woman carefully clutching an ornate bottle within her grasp. Upon one of the stone benches was a variety of tools, none of which looked to be too damning or cause for alarm though might have been a point of piqued curiosity.  Heels on stone sounded out as the sable-haired woman took a few steps forward and she set the bottle down next to the goblet at her right.

The space was a solid stone structure with pops of color amongst the stonework that was nestled into the stained glass patterns of windows that were neatly inlaid around the circumference of the space. Were the sun brightly shining, lights of stretching rainbows and dazzling mixtures of colors would have been quite a beautiful sight to see had the day been far more fair. Alas, the outside bore no light, only that of distant rolling thunder off the coast of Black Water and heavy rains to let the earth drink.

Heavy footfalls strode down the path with a sort of hesitance, or wariness, though the aether slowly permeating the chapel nevertheless acted as a slow lure, drawing Hakan in as he approached. There was something itching at the back of his head, which had never been noticed until now. The implements laid out only served to heighten that feeling by increments -- That they were harmless, physically, and did nothing to abate it. If he had ever listened to that feeling and acted on that itch, it likely would've done the opposite. And he was certainly was no coward. He kept walking until he stood behind Vahalia, a mask of determination wrought on his face.

The bell at Vahalia’s neck shifted, ringing out in a whisper of a knell as she rose and looked over her shoulder to the coming footsteps, "Well, I would certainly hope you're comfortable. We might be here for a while though the space should go undisturbed as these parts of the Laeves are unpopulated at current and quiet." she turned more to face Hakan, "You suggested this happen away from the Keep for safety reasons and this will have to settle."

"Mmm-- Comfortable," he parroted half beneath his breath while taking in her attire. She certainly looked it herself as his eyes drew to the expanse of her thigh, and the lack of any material to suggest modesty beneath as was often the theme with Vahalia while in the privacy of their own spaces. "Hopefully it'll be enough. I don't expect any fireworks, but I won't write it off. Nearly setting the room ablaze while unconscious...You explained how this worked before. Is there anything more to just drinking whatever alchemy you've conjured?"

"That depends. You've mentioned me being with you during your journey. I claimed I did not know a way and would inquire with cohorts of mine. I have found an answer and if you still wish for me to dream alongside of you, there is but a few more steps to get to that point. Simple, quick. As the Dreamweaver said when she offered me the spell and tools, she did say it wasn't invasive but could be dangerous should something happen where both of us are enraptured within a dreamscape."

Hakan’s expression gave way to a slow and deepening frown, "And it requires me to do more than drink that?" he asked with a tip of his chin. "I've no intention of retracting my offer, but if it requires a...mental magic connection to be made, you'll have to hold my proverbial hand." He inhaled a deep breath, the scent of rain fresh, relaxing if he could've done that.

"You've methods of breaking yourself free, should, or when, something occurs?" he asked.

"I'm not quite sure. Creature would do much should I require it as he never sleeps and he is physically tied to my consciousness in many ways. His existence is heavily dependent on my own. The elixir only lasts an hour anyway before the body starts to break down the compounds and metabolize the herbs within. After that, it would be like waking from a regular sleep, albeit somewhat slower."

The Dalmascan made another grumbling noise. "Convenient...but I've neither done nor researched something like this before, so if that's enough then that's enough." He stepped closer, forcefully tearing his gaze from the expanse of her thigh to the elixir in her hand. Distractions were only that. "Is there anything I might should expect?"

"I'm new to this just as much as you are. What's a little risk with a journey?" She flashed a smirk, reaching behind her for the goblet as she turned to situate herself by the stone bench, “Find a spot, sit. Get comfortable because we'll be here for a little while yet and then we can get started. The elixir will hit quickly, you might feel lightheaded at first but drifting should be rather quick and painless. Your tastebuds, however, will loath you."

He let his brow scrunch, glancing towards the benches to either side of them before looking back at her. He hiked a brow. It wasn't all that smart for him to be on one when absent faculties and at risk of spasms, vomiting, and so on as first described. So he sat on the ground instead, hand extended to the goblet in an expectant manner.

Vahalia stepped forward and she softly slapped his expecting hand away, "Patience." she huffed down at him and she gracefully knelt to oversee the necessities better. When the goblet and elixir were placed to the stone floor she took the hand he had outstretched, snatched it almost, and turned it over in her own, the small sickle at her belt held by a chain was brought forth and she drew the curved blade over his palm and then swiftly did the same to herself, an act she had done many times over in her summoning of Creature. Her palm and scars no stranger to the pain and it only dulled over time.

If they were to be linked then they would have to do so by vital. Her hand balled into a fist over the goblet, dropping her lifesblood into the cool slope of the metallic goblet, and then repeated the gesture with Hakan's, "A few more steps left."

Hakan’s frown disappeared, the equivalent of – for him – a pout replacing it and that too disappeared as she watched Vahalia go about drawing his blood and then her own; hot vitality trickling. Now this was what he expected of rituals. He squeezed his fist to join his blood to hers again. "Such as?" she asked.

She hummed as she unfurled his fingers with her own then laced their open and wounded palms to one another, interlacing their fingers, "A tool given to me by the Dreamweaver." she reached to the stone bench nearby and took up the shimmering red string showing it to him. It was long and clearly held magic as its sheen seemed to shift and move on its own, "A binding." While their hands remained clutched to one another she began to wrap the red string around their wrists, softly whispering – chanting – her count with each weave. Three times around each wrist, three more around them both, and courting the weaves between their fingers. When the thread ran its length she tucked the end downward into the threads by the wrists. Next, she uncorked the elixir and poured it into the goblet until full, "Mugwort also known as Dreamweed, blue lotus, yarrow, and myrica gale." she offered the goblet to him, "Drink half, drink deep."

A soft scoff caught in his throat as she twined it around and around. Too many stories for him not to have heard about red strings of fate, and here was a real cliche. Still, he looked at their bound fingers, and hands. If he were to lose control at any point there was no way for her not to be burned by his uncontrolled wrath. When the goblet came up, he curled his lip and clicked his tongue. "I suppose if it was just me, I wouldn't pause." He sighed. So much for not worrying about the taste by shotgunning it. Taking the goblet, and holding it for a second, he did as told. Any thought about how something called myrica gale should maybe taste good evaporated the moment the concoction touched his tongue.

Vahalia smirked gently as she watched him, something caught in her eye, a sinister glint though it was natural to her nature at this point and she reached for the goblet to partake herself when Hakan took his, "There is risk in everything, one must leap than hesitate at the first step." she coaxed him and her nails tinked gently along the curve of the goblet. Vahalia knocked the remains back, she too had to partake to be at the level of state and sleep her partner was to be at, and when she swayed the empty goblet to the side she leaned in, free thumb tugging at the bottom, the most center part of Hakan’s lip, "And should we never wake then it will be a journey at an end, together." leaning in she stole his lips in a hard, hungered press. Stilling the bitterness that found her throat.

He might have once hidden his disgust, an emote of any kind being a vulnerability, but in her, Halia's presence? It was there, even if comparatively muted. The talk of death in sleep as she pressed digit to lip screwed his mouth in a way clearly marked as distaste before she claimed his mouth fully. If she wanted to be wicked before the slow rolling fog overtook them both, he could do the same, free hand finding the space between her legs quickly for a parting tease at her exposed flesh.  

He wasn't able to tell whether his grasp parted from her or not, not as sensations became dim and distant, distant…

As silence came over them both, Vahalia’s ears prick at the distant chittering of voices that always followed her that was nothing but silence to those around her. More and more garbled they seemed to blip from her senses and the familiar growl of Creature eased away as she settled Hakan back to keep him from injuring himself along the stone floor below. 

Palm met stone shortly after as she kept herself up right to the best of her ability, the thread remaining firm as the weight of her body followed through in its desire to simply lay and exist took hold. The rain grew hazy and the space around them began to fade into darkness. 

She was the last to drink, the last to sleep, and likely the last to wake if all went according to plan. A subtle twitch surged through her fingertips as her body eased fully along the ground in its weight. 

The blackest of pitch engulfed them both.

Hakan’s awareness drifted, in and out, expanding and receding like a flash, like the ripples in water after a droplet fell and broadened. The spreading ring waves carried him out, out…

He stood in a room, a hall, a box, dim and closed until he felt with a push of his arms walls turning to smoke, evaporating, gone. There was something wrong with this, something all too strange, and it took too much of an eternity to realize there was something, a reason, a purpose -- to remember what he'd done. It felt like his throat was closed, a vice around his neck, squeezing. Just squeezing. 

He could swallow and, breathe, but the sensation of choking remained. There was something awake around him and rousing, waking something he couldn't fix. There were supposed to be answers, memories, and questions, but he had to ask the questions first. 

To remember he could ask the questions. The city burning around him, the beat of drums and thundering feet, screaming, made him want to huddle and clap his hands to his ears out of sheer instinct.

When Vahalia’s vision came to the cacophony of sounds wrinkled around her and the vivid lights of the blaze, she had found herself within an expanse of unfamiliar sights. When she had caught up to the margin around them and her form had been present, she felt herself reaching out, blinded at first and her hand found familiarity where fingers traced impetuously at the flesh before her. Grabbing for it, Hakan's hand she stepped forward once, and then a second as she halted, the colors and sounds around her beginning to take form around them both.

Already Hakan’s fingers clawed against the shell of his ears, palm pressing in and in as the whirling smoke enveloped streets, skies, muffled noise s-- One breath, then two, another and another, he wasn't a shaking child alone in a city on the edge. His hand was in someone else's, his eyes on the streets as people ran past in blurs of color, as inky smudges. This wasn't why he was here, Rabanastre wasn't his goal. Anchored, accompanied if hardly aware, there were the dreams, the voices; that's what he was searching for. Not home. 

Awkward legs took him forward along the path, over golden roads and blue tiles. Muffled words that felt distant, reached forward but they were still unclear in his mind’s eye. They were standing before a gate, a doorway. Giants on either side, sand pouring from bottomless hourglasses held against shoulders to burden the weight. There was a heat in the darkness, a furnace, alive, pulsing….beckoning…

As if it were designed for her to do so, Vahalia followed. The only familiar scene she had to call home, was an anchor among the blurred colors and coruscating sounds that remained in the lingering touch she had afforded to Hakan. A strange place and none she had ever seen before. The chaos sparking around them, her feet feeling charged with energy neither good nor bad though that hadn't made her feel any safer in the place in which she stood, eyes taking in the assembled pieces before them, "Is this...." she paused, her voice almost an echo as she followed what she could only naturally surmise to be Hakan's attention, the moving sand from the massive sand clocks.

She already knew.

A foreign home of hers linking her through blood. For Hakan it was a collective of stored memories, perhaps some simply visions to be untrue. A broken home to which there was no returning.

Transfixed before the black, the thrum and heat of something distant were the only promises of light that Hakan could feel. 'Go, Don't Go, Don't, Don't..' a whispering chorus in his ears. A barrier before him, a lock which honored no key. He snarled, teeth-baring, face contorting, a leonine flash -- a crack, shattering. The sands continued pouring, filling the sloping entrance, and swallowing it. His feet took him forward, body moving through the grain. The vice within his neck, the cords digging into his heart had eased with each step. Asking 'Who' as he parted the billowing dark with his companion. Echoes of feet, his own, others, bouncing off the halls. 'Who are you, to tell me I'm unready,' he snarled, figures looming in the expanse, the threat behind and surrounding him growing close but not.

Vahalia walked, perplexed as she heard the words echo and clip but they had not been directed at her. Perhaps....elsewhere? Her attention snapped and much of her wondered if there were other things inbound that Hakan himself could hear or sense that she could not. Missing a piece to the puzzle before her but such was not her dream to coax to reality or to twist and warp at her whim. 

Here, there was no magic she could utilize, she was beyond any hand to play. Her presence only meant to play witness, a passenger in the scape of Hakan's mind. When the colors shifted her attention shifted back to what captured Hakan's attention as they walked.

He marched forward with a growing purpose. A sort of clarity. The shifting wrongness, it felt alien, of things around him began solidifying, forming something more coherent. Shadows along the walls curled backward to bleed away and murals revealed cloaked and staff-bound figures. There was old writing that was unfamiliar to him, possibly ancient – still twisting, inverting, but there. Recognizable. 

Crests peaked alcoves, buttresses; suns, lions, bulls. Hourglasses. He noted them, recognized them, and moved past them. He was not here for history, for bygone ancestors and bloodlines. Stopping, asking, and diverting from the task of the voice and its incessant, erratic, and forgetfulness was the goal. 

“Why, why do you plague me? Why take my dreams, my memories, my time?" Hakan seethed, voice low and never a shout. 

There was rumbling in the distance, a rhythm. Something mournful, something amused, something…

There was a figure in the chamber. Figures, twelve and thirteen in the center. It towered over them, over the outline of a shadowed form. Eyes that glowed like miniature suns. 

They looked at him. 

Through him. 

They looked at Vahalia, aware.

Like a pinprick -- sharpened to the vibrant eyes nestled within a deep shadow before them. Vahalia quickly garnered theories, as per the norm, but she remained quiet. Still and vigilant.

 The chamber, the catacombs, the purpose, all were gone. There was only the figure, the entity which could have easily resembled a kin of titans. Smoke and fire and crippling pressure "Untested. Sundered." The voice boomed around them, collapsed walls into the sand, and replaced air with lead. Chains found Hakan’s wrists, and pulled him from the back of his neck, his back, into the ground, rattling, scraping. His arms, skinny, too skinny, couldn't lift the gold, the iron. "Our vessel." Its voice echoed, derided. 

A halo bloomed behind its skull, features still unknowable. And as it looked at him, judged, a mirror cast on Vahalia where she too had been strung up, lifted high, chains shooting to her wrists, ankles, and neck. It towered over her, indomitable, a pillar breaching the sky, and stood face to face. "Potential," it seethed, voice flowing slow and thick. "Perhaps. Kindling at least."

Vahalia’s attention barely had a second to snap to Hakan the moment the chains shot toward him and by reflex, she aimed to bolt toward him, naturally, but she had been jerked back and too found the shackles at her extremities. There was a vicious roar that echoed through her mind, a reminder that she was not solely alone within herself as Creature's presence was alert, keeping her grounded to some degree but angered. This was not her space, uncontrolled and wild. 

She knew the implications in which coming into this would be but it hadn't deterred her either way. Such was the price for curiosity and attachment. Her palms felt sweaty, the only thing that was of the true essence of feeling within this realm and thus she tested the restraints, a cruel smirk pinning to the corner of her lips. 

Kindling -- how fitting.

Hakan had found himself dragged, pulled, and shuffled along cavernous corridors lit by fired sconces. In each flame, a crystal, power. Memory. Memories of elsewhere, others, memories that weren't his but could have been. Were.

 A pale knight clad in silver amidst a city, sandals in the dirt, grass on his skin. A chorus of blasts, horns, men and women charging monstrous figures with too wide of mouths, and stitched faces. 

Vows in the dark, in the light, before the sun before being carried below. He pulled at the chains, arms straining, voice breaking as he struggled against the pressure on his throat, chest aching. "Why? Tell me why, why take and take? Give me something." The plea was swallowed down, dispersed. 

Still, he fought the crowd, the surge of bodies trying to flee, the hand pulling at him speaking of rebellion and promises he knew would break. The strange shadow entity, its halo dipping forward, a crown with horns rising on either side, and a third sun sat between the spikes. It was bright, blinding, burning, just like the stars in its eyes.

It now fixed on Halia. It saw her, saw what grew in her, saw the darkness slick under her skin, coiled. Coiling.

"You do not belong. What you carry...might, if untarnished." The entity stepped closer to her and loomed, a presence trying to engulf her. "If stoked."

Eyes of liquid gold followed the thing before her, silently searching for chinks within its shadowed armor. She knew nothing of the sun or light but she knew plenty of the darkness -- she had been forged by it. Her attention drifted across the expanse of the area and it was here she found her vision limited beyond what was happening elsewhere than what was before her. The chains that bound her shifted and she angled forward, daringly, dangerously but her closure was finite as she ticked her head, owlishly slow to appraise and weigh the 'thing' before her. The strain on the chains kept her from narrowing the space between her and it, "Sad little shadow." she loosed a tut, "A vision. A memory. A dream, yet so far from reality."

That which encapsulated the space before Vahalia was not conjuration, not a figment. It EXISTED. 

She shifted forward and her throat was in its palm, fingers, talons, pricking and piercing the skin of her neck that garnered little to no response from the woman. The heat from its digit burned off the blood, the power beneath the shadow dormant but present. Growing. "Sad little shadow," it parroted towards the witch, taunted, STATED. "Chained to a fragment. Empowered" It looked into her. It looked at Creature. "By a mere child grasping for what it cannot reach." The being reached as if into her, the question of whether to eat in the air. There were chains on its wrists, its throat, its back. Features like Hakan's, similar to Hakan's, unlike his at all. Red scales, gold, red-gold. The black smoke, of ovens and furnaces, metal stamping, bombarded the senses from afar. Growing, growing, there. Distant, then growing again.

Was this simply a spectacle of inner madness?

Hakan jerked at his bindings, metal stressing, fracturing, melting into him. He rose off the ground, one knee then the other, stood. His arms felt leaden, weak, as if they were not his at all, and then it all felt to be too much. Power filtered into his veins, made his skin burn, want to split and burst. "Speak damn you! Tell me what you are, who!"

The figure aimed to reach Vahalia, into her, reaching for Creature and it then ceased, stopping briefly. It stood towering, still containing the Witch, focused on her, but moved into the space behind her where it faced Hakan, looked down at him, "Another vessel. You. But you are broken. Untrained, untested. The threat is gone, the battle won. But not by you. Yet we remain, so we remain. Hungry. Unfilled. Until you, until a promise, proves worthy. But you are not. Not yet. Guidance is needed. Return when you have it."

For a brief moment, Vahalia felt a laugh brewing in her throat though it was snuffed quickly, her attention shifted to the side, briefly calculating, curious about where Hakan had been as they had been separated for all that she knew as there was little to see beyond what was in front of her despite something happening behind her.  

Was this something that nestled deep into Hakan’s being as Creature was into hers? A reflection of inner battles or perhaps a fade of the past, what was yet to come? Her eyes danced over parts of the figure and she remained silent for a stint. A migrant figment of the one she was eternally bound to? Perhaps a collection of thoughts, memories, trauma and the past bleeding into one singular source?

Her attention snapped to the familiar voice – Hakan – and briefly, the feeling of relief seeped into her senses. A flicker of darkness and sweeping tendrils slithered forth from her chest toward the being unlike Hakan before her and then retreated once more as Creature’s essence was drawn to the immense power that loomed so close, within reach, yet her avatar struggled to connect. She tested the chains once more when the entity moved, placing focus now on Hakan which it seemed to converse.

The tendrils of Creature were not unnoticed; a creature aware of everything even half-slumbering could not be so blind as to miss it. Creature reached and at that moment the power of the being flared, nova bright, star waking further. It threatened to consume, the power real and untamed, unharnessed, with no control. Almost no control.

There was a star in her too, a potential too small to snuff out. Too large. A darker part of the horned and crowned collaborative entity, something tied to Hakan, from Hakan, made its touch less cold. More hungry. Savage. To look at it was to see something old, something beyond mortality, something only barely bound by rules self imposed rules hardly befitting the civilized. 

This was Hakan’;s dreamscape yet his power and control waned was his subconscious took hold. A myriad of blips and recognizable and unrecognizable all in one. When something began to make sense, it quickly shifted from parts of reality. Smudges of uncertainty and painted imaginations one could only find on a canvas or neatly written in stories.

Hakan growled low at the sight, at the slumbering numen. Himself.

"Guidance? Guidance? Who, what, are you to say I needed it without ever having given a sign–" Hakan finished in a rasping bite, voice scratching the back of his throat. “he image of the being, the scales and crown, three suns, transposed onto his features for a mirrored moment. For an instant, he was something else and almost unworldly beyond any definition to the waking mind. Different, more, and he loomed behind Vahalia and the being, its reflection. 

"We did," it spoke back, and Hakan was himself again, confusion writ on his face. "You appeared. You were unready. Unalone. It interfered...so you lived. Live. Not every correction since was in your grasp. Measures were taken." The voice began growing distant, the darkness more encompassing. The star entity dimmed, grew distant. "Reforge yourself, o vessel of cultivation. Retrace your steps...and see. Learn. Grow, as your ancestors promised."

Vahalia loosed a quiet breath and hearing the words spoken she still took the time to inspect the irons that clung to her, the hungry void within shot out toward the blipping light, reaching with wild snaps and the tendrils expending far past Vahalia's vision when the darkness came once more. There was silence. A cold darkness and the familiar roil within her chest that begged for release, straining to reach for what it could not obtain if only to snuff it out entirely and then some. Creature extended himself too far from her mortal cage.

In the instant Creature struck, the being slathered by the light of the sun retaliated. The metal of Vahalia’s chains sank into her flesh, pierced it, became part of it, heat engulfing her body. Fabric burned as if it was never there, she was bare before the might of the sun, its hand around her throat squeezing, possessive, the heat pervading it hungry, unyielding, undeniable. There was the presence of Hakan, the core of him within the center of its touch, an animal looking to sink deep into the Witch, claim her, consume even as the stars sought to annihilate whatever stood in its way. A clash between shadow and light sparked the expanse between Vahalia and the entity that was not of her own, the darkness of the shadows blipping out due to the light so bright that it could only shrink and recoil back and though Creature had vanished it wasn't known what had come of the initial grasp. What was known was the scream that ripped through Vahalia as her flesh felt ablaze and pricked by sharp stars, burning into every fabric of her being. What would have continued had become silenced into submission once her airway was seized. Not all that had not been seen, slumbered, and as swiftly as it happened, it also ended and there was...

Nothing!

The presence engulfed everything, wiped away the city visions, and the fields, turning the sands to glass, hourglass shattering and time stopping. "A tethered child, starving...Pitiable. Our Herald," were the last words before there was all-encompassing blackness, then light, searing, and finally wakefulness.

The cold stone under them, the passing rumble of thunder that boomed above followed by the gentle rains of Black Water. Finally, the hour had passed and the bell tower in the distance cut through the patter of precipitation outside of the Laeves Sanctum. 

Reality returned.

Collab w/ @belgravexiv

[blametheeditor]

Day 31 | Eepy

Gt July Prompt List

David may or may not have inadvertently adopted a leviathan. What could possibly go wrong?

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and violence

________________________

David realized he earned a shadow.

There’s been a few ever since he got stranded on an uncharted ocean planet. Most of them were predators debating if he was vulnerable and worth the effort. This one, however, is actively staying out of sight, hasn’t once tried to approach to test his reaction time.

No, the only reason he noticed this particular shadow is because his tools got displaced much too often to blame it on absentmindedness. Things also started to appear, like creepvine seeds and titanium, random items waiting patiently next to a waterproof locker he set up to collect supplies.

Now, a few things. Before the Aurora crashed and he got into this situation, David dealt with his fair share of shadows, multiple of which attempted to be ‘helpful’. Especially due to his position as director of building the phasegate, people would always assume that he’d appreciate it if they got him things he needed or clean up his workstation for him.

They always got him the wrong things, though. Always put away something that he was about to reach for. If he wanted an assistant, he would’ve gotten one, but he hasn’t been able to find a single person who knows how to do the job right. Which makes shadows much like this one something that only triggers annoyance.

Pair that with the fact everything on this planet has been trying to kill him, and it just wracks it up to a new level he didn’t know was possible.

David sends a glare at the quartz sitting on a rock he had deployed the locker near. Takes note at the fact the mineral had replaced his scanner. Turning in a circle, he looks around for a literal shadow, any movement that can hint at what exactly could be following him while messing with his things.

He doesn’t find anything except for metal glinting in the sunlight, realizing his scanner had just been tossed to the side. Confident whatever had decided to mess with his valuable items, he swims over to it. Dutifully checks it over to find no marks on it. Not a single scratch or dent.

There’s nothing. No indication a stalker had snapped it up between teeth. It’s hard to believe something like a peeper had quickly swam by and knocked it into the open water. So what exactly has been grabbing his tools? And why is it leaving him seemingly random items?

Any other time, he’d want an answer strictly based on principle. Considering the potential danger he could be in with an unknown creature managing to get so close without him knowing, he needs to figure out what it is to ensure he doesn’t end up dead.

Clipping the scanner to his belt, David leaves the quartz and carefully pulls the locker behind him toward the lifepod. It’s a methodic transferring materials into his pack and carrying them into the pod to store them or fabricate into items. One of which he finally was able to craft a breather.

How is he supposed to plan-?

David freezes at the sight before him, hand still on the last rung. In front of him, only a few feet away and delicately balancing a quartz on the floating locker, is a kid. At least, what seems to be a kid. From the chest up, they look like a teenager, with red hair that sways in the current.

It’s not human, though. Not with the long blue tail with a streak of red. Not with the gills on its neck. Not with the low, grumbling sounds it softly emits.

He hasn’t seen anything like this. Both the creature, and the complete disregard for such valuable items needed for his survival.

“Hey!”

The shout erupted before he could stop the anger from serging, the response much too quick and habitual for him to have even a second to think twice before it was already done.

Good news, he’s not automatically attacked, the creature more startled than anything. Bad news, it almost immediately focuses on him after catching the rock it was attempting to balance when it almost dropped it from the initial scare

David tenses, expecting it to lunge the moment it realizes just how vulnerable he is with his only weapon currently tucked away. It hesitates, seems like it’s preparing to make a move, then looks down at the quartz in hand. Suddenly, it holds out the quartz as it makes the most horrific and inhuman noises in existence. Then it goes still as it watches him with pitch black eyes that stare into his soul.

…what the hell?

He stares for a moment. Waits for it to lose patience and stop pretending it’s ‘friendly’. But the longer they watch each other, it becomes clear it won’t move until he does.

The only issue is he isn’t going anywhere near that thing. He’s gathered that this is the reason why tools have been swapped out for inferior items, but he is yet to have a reason for such a transaction. What’s the motive? Is it just messing with him?

The only things he knows is it doesn’t respect him, and it can attack the moment he looks away.

The creature gives a pitiful look. Extends the quartz out with horrific mumbles.

“What?” David demands, unable to hell himself.

“At?” the creature chokes out.

Is it making fun of him? “What do you want?”

It blinks like there’s not a single intelligent thought. Then, it carefully balances the rock on top of the locker like it was trying to do before, this time succeeding.

With that it slowly backs away. Sends the biggest puppy eyes David has ever seen with a gesture toward the quartz.

“Is this some kind of peace offering?” he demands. “Or a declaration of war?”

It’s not human, but there’s no denying the very hopeful gleam in its soulless eyes. After waiting another moment, David carefully swims to the locker, a hand hovering near his knife to quickly grab if needed. Nothing happens, and he’s able to grab the rock without issue.

The creature beams at him as its voice sends a chill down his spine. At least he isn’t dead.

David eyes the quartz in his hand warily, unsure what he just agreed to. What he just invited. He’s hoping this just means the creature won’t attack him anytime soon. He knows this will be something he deeply regrets.

Speaking of regrets, the creature whips around and darts away, the tail powerful enough to send the locker rocking in its wake. And considering the fact it will most definitely be coming back, David has no choice but to wait, or else turn his back to an unknown and unsettling new discovery.

Sure enough, it comes back, this time holding another quartz.

That’s when David realizes he fucked up. “No, I don’t want you here. Go home, shoo, leave me alone.”

“Alone!” it mocks. And then it yawns just to rub it in.

David makes a dramatic motion with his arms, physically crossing out the impression its not only allowed to stay, but help him. “Go away. You’re not welcome here. Go somewhere else, anywhere else. You’re not allowed to even sleep here, understood?”

“Eepy,” it mumbles, and he has a feeling it’s intentionally saying the words wrong. Something finally seems to click though, prompting the creature to set the new rock down and swim off.

It doesn’t go far. It finds a coral tube not one full meter away. Curls up in the large opening in a way where it faces him. Stares up with wide eyes that begin to get longer and longer blinks with every one.

Isn’t that just wonderful? Isn’t of stopping something dangerous from ripping his throat out, he inadvertently earned its complete and utter trust.

Briefly, David finds his hand resting on the handle of his knife. Only for a moment as he contemplates if it’s better to let it assume it’s welcome here, or if he should chase it out.

Those beady eyes closing without a single flutter and the slow rise and fall of its chest has him deciding to deal with it tomorrow. For now, he needs to finish putting everything he has in the lifepod and going out to collect samples.

Hopefully the creature will leave when it wakes up, and he will never see it ever again. Purposefully stays ignorant to the fact nothing is ever that easy.

[thewritingautisticat]

Tag Game: Incorrect quotes!

Thanks @tildeathiwillwrite for tagging me! I have a whole doc full of these 😅 These ones are for Days of Resistance

- Peg: I have done nothing wrong, ever, in my life.

- Caldren and Liliana: We know that, and we love you.

- Caldren: I've only had Peg for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself

- Liliana: WHO ATE MY SNACKS? I'M GONNA KI--

- Peg: It was me. I'm sorry.

- Liliana: --kiss you and get you some more food. You never eat enough.

- Caldren: SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!

- Caldren: (holds up Peg)

- Caldren: Here he is, say hello to him.

- Andreu: Are you crazy?!?

- Caldren: Legally, no. There's not a word for my condition.

- Peg: What do I want? Snuggles. What do I get? Struggles.

- Caldren: I don't think kissing Peg is going to magically fix all his trauma

- Liliana: *putting on flavored lip balm* Worth a shot

- Peg: I would die for you

- Caldren: I would kill for you

- Peg and Caldren, at the same time: Please don't

- Andreu: You know there's a rumor going about that you are in love with Peg.

- Liliana: Rumor? RUMOR?!? EXCUSE ME??!? Are you telling me people are doubting it???

- Caldren: When life gives you lost, traumatized children, adopt them! It's good business.

- Andreu: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

- Caldren, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

- Peg, whispering: Because I have little hands.

- Caldren: Because he has little hands.

- Madreline: It's okay to ask for help.

- Peg: You're not a burden.

- Caldren: Murder is okay.

- Liliana: Your feelings matter.

Gently tagging @sparkles-rule-4eva @agirlandherquill @themswritinwords @stargazer-luna and anyone else who wants to join in!

[sunmaea]

I'm very pleased to be able to share 'The Tea Break' a short story that I wrote for Caffeine Rush. You can find the story on pp. 48-50 of the zine. Alternatively, you can read it here!

Summary: A group of English teachers discuss their classes during the mid-morning break.

You huddle around the kettle like witches circling a cauldron. Naomi fills her fox-shaped mug and immediately sips her Yorkshire Tea (it’s the type that has been specifically designed for hard water areas; after all, in this part of England, most brews are tinged with Essence of Limescale and Naomi, who moved only recently, is adjusting). “We just got to the Oliver Twist extract,” she says, setting the kettle back on its base. “They spent half the lesson screaming at a spider.” “A big one?” Amara’s voice is clogged. She tops up her lemon-and-ginger combo and wafts the steam towards her nose. “I saw a black widow in my kitchen last night.” Instinctively, you wince. “I’d die if I saw a black widow. They’re massive, aren’t they?” You take the kettle and pour water on your rooibos teabag. Redbush tea is naturally caffeine-free and, despite its delightfully woody taste, you think that this might be a mistake. You stayed up until 2 am playing a silly pizza game. The main reason you stopped, really, was because the cooldown mechanism kicked in and the vegetables would need a few hours to restock.

Amara has excellent reflexes: she hurriedly slides her mug onto a desk before turning away to sneeze. Five mini-explosions later, she emerges from the crook of her arm to insist, “Black widows aren’t actually dangerous. They’ll only bother you if you bother them.” “I would give anything for a cold,” grumbles Karina. She’s opted for peppermint. “My room stinks of damp and the children are even worse.” “Aren’t they dealing with that?” “No! Tom Bailey sent an email to say they have other priorities. They have given me a monstrous dehumidifier to keep me company.” You murmur, “Small mercies.” Naomi checks her watch. “Ten minutes,” she declares. “I told them to be back at eleven. If that Billy Blizzard ambles in with a burger again –” “I’m sorry. Billy who?” “Blizzard! I thought he was trying to be funny. But it’s on my register and everything.” Naomi picks up a custard cream and crams it into her mouth. Somehow, she manages to ask, “How’s your morning going?” Karina launches into a spiel about students turning up without pens, refusing to put their phones away, bickering bitterly over the seating plan – then, she relays that a tall girl came bursting into the room, scowled at her new English teacher and promptly stormed out again. “It was very strange,” Karina concludes. “I have never seen her before in my life.” “Pink skirt?” “Yes! How did you know?” “She stormed out and lambasted you in the corridor.” Naomi grins. “You’ve definitely seen her before. She swore at her mother at Induction and you told her to stop being a cow.” “Oh!” Karina starts. “I am surprised they let me get away with that.” Everyone laughs. You take another gulp of rooibos tea, smiling as Amara suggests hurling a black widow at the next student who spells ‘a lot’ as one word. Karina groans – so far, her students’ performances in the spelling tests have been dire. Naomi demolishes another custard cream. It’s a funny job, you think, making your way back to class. You spend most lessons oscillating between teaching and parenting. You dedicate unpaid lunches to ferrying students around the college, or ducking behind your laptop when your manager announces that there’s yet another spreadsheet to update. At home, you mark assignments or reply to emails or titivate PowerPoints. Every other weekend, you vent in the group chat about the nonsensical things that make you want to quit. Nevertheless, there are some perks. You have friends. And you look after each other in little ways, stocking the staffroom with biscuits and boxes of tea.

[xandyprojects]

[A Wonderful Tour]

I had fun making this!

Collab template and Devin belongs to: @thenamesmobu !!

The fic is under the 'Keep reading' if you are interested!

[Summary: Violet decided to Visit Devin after his coma not really expecting anything other than to annoy him for a bit however what he did not expect that they be in the starry-dome and have an actually conversation/Bonding time]

“Wow, I never knew the Starry-dome could be so…comforting before..” Behind his visor, his eye widen from bewilderment. It was odd for Violet to see the starry dome shown like this other than what was ‘known’ at his parable.

“Exactly…Oh, it's beautiful, isn't it?” Devin sigh and admire it.

“Now… shall we get a proper interview, Violet?” Violet took a time to process what Devin said as they immediately turn. Unknowingly his bottom cloudy hair also forms bits of light blended with the starry dome.

Violet was oddly hesitant for a second but then looked at the lights.. he unsummoned his hologram. “Maybe another time..." he mutters.

“Oh?” it was out of character for Violet to turn down this opportunity, even Devin was surprised by this response. 

“I’m not really in a mood today, and I kinda wanna watch the light for now if that’s alright?” Violet smiled as they sat down looking at the lights, Devin was a bit concerned but nodded. “Sure.”

He sat down 1 foot away beside Violet. “Is everything alright, Violet?” He asked making sure the unknown entity was okay, as Violet smiled not looking at Devin.

“The lights in the starry dome you have are pretty… very pretty...” They mutter trying to change the subject, and they're just more likely to focus on the lights.

“Alright, let’s just watch instead if you don't want to talk about it..” Devin sighed, It was unusual for him to worry about Violet, especially considering Violet's being and information is unknown to others despite there a chatterbox.

But of course, he respects their choice for them to change the subject. As the two now admire and relax at the starry dome’s lights for how long.

…

 Violet chuckled lightly breaking the silence between the two.

“Hmm? What’s funny?” Devin asked curiously.

“It’s nothing, Devin Boris. Its- it’s just funny that the first time we met we weren’t exactly quote n quote ‘Buddies’, especially aftermath- heh even like I was trying to be ‘buddies’ with you, and you have to tolerate my annoying ass heh..”  he chuckled softly.

“Heh, Funny thing I used to find you weird and annoying..” Devin commented looking at the lights.

…

Violet glance at Devin. “Aaand?” They tilted their head curiously.

“And you are..” Violet immediately lightly punches Devin in the shoulder, in return he chuckles

“HEyy!” He laugh it off as soon they both started to laugh and began sharing and talking more while the lights play.

"Yet look at us now, relaxing and watching the lights." Devin sighed. "I wasn't aware that you were capable of being 'calm', but I guess you could say that I'm far more used to seeing you chaotic and loud I suppose" He shrugged.

"Snrk– I'd say the same thing to you, but life is full of surprises and changes. I don't really expect you to stay the same for eternity." Violet replied.

"Heh, well that is quite the contrary to what I initially believed. But… I'm glad that I could finally say, I agree." Devin nodded as his eyes drifted back onto the lights as they were reflected in his eyes, he smiled softly.

"This was used to be a gift for someone, yet I never get a chance to give it to them." He looked up at the lights.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.." Violet mutter really doesn't know what to say.

"It's alright, the past is in the past. Beside, Actually alright being here." Devin stood up and stretch abit.

…

“You change Devin Boris..” Violet spoke up and Devin's ear perk up now glancing at Violet. “But in a good way.” they summon up their Hologramic screens updating Devin’s status and then look at him with a genuine smile. “And I’m happy for you.” Then look over back to the lights.

“Thank you, Violet.” Devin smiled glancing at the lights. "I can say the same with you."

"Hmm, How come?" he was curious about what Devin going to say.

"Other than appearance, I guess I can say you are improving too. " He shrugged. "I..." Violet was speechless for a moment. "I- Thank you... that's coming a lot, especially from you." He fidgets his cloudy hair, glancing at the light

"Your welcome Violet, just so you know that you are always welcome here... Oh, and don't break the walls too much alright." they both chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Devin Boris." Violet's visor emoted eye-rolling.

...

With a mischievous smile, he asked jokingly. “Soooo... Ig Devin. jr is the one gonna operate your Parable now Eeyyyyy?” Devin immediately turn and punch Violet lightly in return Violet giggled.

“For the last time, he’s not my son!” Violet couldn't help but let out a guffaw at Devin's response. 

“Pfft- Yeah yeah, deny all you want Devin Boris. I witness how you treat Agus Dewantara. You basically adopt him like you own son!” Violet snicker even more.

“There's a difference between ‘Apprentice’ and ‘Son’ Violet.” Devin crossed their arms.

“Yeah yeah, Tomato Tomahto.” They rolled their eyes not really bothering to ‘correct’ him as Devin sighed.

And once again they watch over to the illumination of the starry-dome and while they have small conversations and share stories with each other there n then. Well, mostly Violet just sharing the events he missed during his coma making sure he doesn't get left behind.

=====Fin=====

(Not related to the fic but i just thin its funny)

[Next day]

Violet sending burnt rocks on the gc: （；´д｀）ゞ ಥ_ಥ

Ellios is done with Violet: 😑😑😑

Devin witnessing his cooking skills in the gc: APA KEJADAHNYA-??

(I used google translate so apologies if its wrong! It’s supposed to be “WHAT THE FU-??”)

[HEY MOBU TYSM AGAIN FOR BETA READING!!!]

[butteredfrogs]

Aster Alavara for @morrigan-sims's cas challenge!

Rolls and stuff below the cut!

Race: fall (3) eladrin (9)

Class: Ranger (8)

Allignment: Chaotic good (2)

Other: long hair (1), tattoos (1) & long/painted nails (8)

[asteria7fics]

I have no clue how this works but uhhhhh mayybeeeeee butters (or butters when he’s professor chaos) uhhhhh

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

💝 A headcanon about their love language

💔 An angsty headcanon

👗 A headcanon about their clothes

🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

😬 A headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

😭 A headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them.

😶 A random headcanon!

(Yes I had to copy paste it to remember the emojis) I don’t think I read the reblog correctly so idk if I’m allowed to have this many😨😨 you don’t have to do them if u dont want but I would love to learn more abt your butters headcanon for ur fic (specifically for ewily if I remember the acronym correctly)

RAHHHHHH -😨

AAAH BUTTERS!!! MY BOY!!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡

I’ll do my best to cover all of these!! I never get to blab about the boy with a heart full of magic!!!

Barely spoilers for the chapter 9 of EWILY under the cut, and a couple of other small details I do include in the fic but aren’t really super plot relevant.

👻 - A silly one to start with, but I think he’s a little bit afraid of the dark. I’m gonna probably say this a lot, but after some of the shit that’s happened to him in the context of canon, he gets really uncomfortable being left completely alone in pitch darkness. Oh! And of course he’s always afraid of doing something wrong and getting grounded!

💝- Words of affirmation. I won’t go into any greater detail, but it will all make sense soon enough ehehehe

💔- I personally think Butters struggles a lot with the fact that he doesn’t quite fit in with the other boys. They’re all pretty abrasive towards him still, and he’s really not cool enough to fit in with most of them. He doesn’t show it, but his insistence on still ‘playing superheroes’ with Kenny is kind of a greater symptom of this insecurity. I imagine he was very excited to be included when Stan got Crimson Dawn back together as they got older, probably late middle school or so.

👗- Wears whatever his mom picks out for him, which is why he’s such an über dork. Lots of lumpy sweaters with dress slacks and straight leg jeans that are all a little too short on his long ass legs, meaning his socks are always showing so they have to coordinate with his outfit, too. And of course, he owns an impressive collection of button up shirts and sweater vests.

🔪- Butters is not a fighter, but he’s certainly had lots of violence enacted on him. Bullied pretty bad as a kid, on top of (tw for child abuse) his father’s liberal use of physical punishments. These are all pretty much canon though, so suffice to say I personally think Butters CAN fight if he needs to, he just generally chooses not to. (This is where the Professor Chaos headcanons come in hehe)

🌟- He wants to be happy, above all else. It doesn’t really matter what it is that will get him there, he just wants to experience the joys of living without worrying about the consequences for once in his silly little life. Aah, now I’ve gone and made myself sad!

🥇- Canonically Butters is good at a ton of stuff! He’s such a highly creative person with a massive imagination, and though The Poop That Took a Pee is a horrible example, I think he’d actually be a really good fiction writer! Hm, maybe that’s something I should explore more.

🎭 - Everything, all the time. Naw, I’m being hyperbolic, though he definitely tells white lies to his parents to avoid getting in trouble. I think he’s also very dishonest when things upset him, at least when people like Stan, Kyle or Cartman hurt his feelings. He knows better than to show weakness around those assholes! (Sometimes RIP)

🖕- I actually think Butters’ anger is under appreciated! He’s an angry little guy when he wants to be, and while I think he’s quick to anger when something finally does irritate him enough, he’s also very quick to cool back down. He doesn’t really hold grudges, though he makes a few exceptions.

😬 - AHAHAAHAH!!! Where do I even begin?? Butters does worse things in canon than pretty much anything I’ll ever have him do, though I would argue that inadvertently inspiring his entire class to wage a war over him wasn’t, uh, great. Oh, and shooting that guy in the dick, I guess.

😭 - Again, where do I begin?? I think the trauma he’s experienced in canon sort of speaks for itself, though I also think that though maybe he didn’t get anything quite as bad in the Asteria-verse, the bullying he withstood affected him more than he would be willing to admit. Poor child, can someone please get him a therapist?

😶 - Butters’ eternal sunshine, happy boy disposition is at least partially a front. While he’s naturally an optimist person, and does generally see the good in everyone around him, but he’s not a complete idiot. He acknowledges, again, that he’s not fully accepted by his peers, but chooses to disregard a lot of the things they do to isolate him. As a little boy it was a more honest representation of who he was, but as he’s gotten older (and more hormonal oof) he’s latched onto it as a means of protection, so to speak. The only person who really, truly sees Butters in his most honest form is Kenny.

This was so much fun!!! Thank you for humoring me and sending this, and I hope you enjoyed learning a lil something about the way I portray Butters in my work!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

[highly-opinionated-nerd]

Aspects: A Homestuck Fan Project

I challenged myself to write a short piece of music inspired by each aspect, and it proved to be a really fun and informative project. I imposed minimal restrictions on myself and paid little attention to musical rules, which was very freeing. Each track is very different, and I feel like has a lot of personality. I hope you'll give them a listen!

Individual tracks: Blood Breath Doom Life Time Space Mind Heart Void Light Rage Hope

[shapesintheklouds]

Oc-tober day #12 color palette challenge

Working late once again to meet the deadline and as always Daniel is there to pick up things so Joseph can rest. :D

[kanelune]

Deadmans itabag!