#iTS BEEN SOOOO LONG SINCE I MADE AN EDIT OF THEM

[oncominggstorm]

Ok so I'm currently hyperfixated on a show (or more specifically a ship from a show) that I used to be really into from like 2015-2018 or so. I don't wanna spam this account with 300 posts in a row, so I just made a new sideblog for it. But because the fandom is completely dead, right now I'm going through my old reblogs on here that I tagged with this ship, and reblogging those to the new blog.

And I just found a graphic that I reblogged here but tagged saying that it was mine from my old blog, and I was like, what?? Because 1.) I did not recognize the graphic and 2.) I did not recognize the blog that posted the graphic.

But I checked it out, and yes it literally is mine? An old side blog dedicated to this ship that I completely forgot about making apparently? I still don't remember it, but its deffo mine, it links to my old main (@ontrenzalore). And apparently I made THREE graphics AND a fan vid? One of the graphics I do remember making but the rest...🤷‍♀️

[butterbabyflapjack]

ＣＨＡＯＳ ＨＥＡＲＴＳ

[ PAIRING ] Messmer the Impaler x hornsent princess!reader

[ SUMMARY ] Messmer is feared throughout the land. Your world, his flame has razed; your family gone, yourself his prisoner. He’s given you every reason to hate him. So why does heat flood your veins at his touch? Doth your wretched heart crave his to come and claim you?

[ RATING ] explicit, 18+

[ WARNINGS ] enemies to lovers as an extreme sport, mutual pining, snake bites, light bondage, monsterfucker, inhuman anatomy, size difference, hurt and comfort, passionate sex, hate sex, dark romance, slow burn, minor character death, attempted rape (not by Messmer), canon typical violence and warfare, more tags to come

✧˖° read here or ao3

CHAPTER 1

[ AUTHORS NOTE ] Soooo I did not mean for this to be so long. I got carried away–I can't help myself. And I’m sure there's parts which are messy since editing chapters this long melts my brain so I hope you’ll forgive me <3 Enjoy!

This land was not always weighed by death. Not always wrought by ash and ruin.

The Impaler, Messmer, changed that. Inked his name to its cause. Proud, it seemed, to wear the flame-soaked flag his crusade waved in the broken halls of your people.

He changed a lot of things in what would become his land of shadows, and always in manners most cruel.

The people feared him.

You feared him.

Ear craned to whispers of his name.

You lived a sheltered, privileged life, despite your lust for ungilded freedom, and your father wouldn’t tell you the state of things, how close this war had gotten. He often told you nothing at all, in truth, beyond the length of your duties as a woman and sole daughter of his house. But you feared the worst–for yourself, for those around you. Feared that death was fast approaching, for something of it shivered in the air, made its mountain calm taste ashen. And what is calm, if not what veils the savage storm which lies beyond it?

Something was coming. Of this your nightmare’s warned, though it seemed no one would voice their shared concerns. Playing fool to the obvious, as though to hide from truth would keep it from ever finding you.

You needed your brother; your only and cherished sibling. Your kin and closest friend. Needed to speak with him about your worries, needed to salve them, but he’d been garrisoned near Rivermouth for nearly two moons, a sentry against the threat of Messmer’s men–but no longer.

Today was the day he finally came home.

Your heart swims with warmth at the notion, as for days and nights you’ve fretted he may never return.

He was practically your twin, your brother Sven. People often believed such was true, though you were younger. And his imminent arrival was your first thought upon waking. To embrace him safely your sole intention when throwing yourself from your dusky blue bed at the silver of dawn, wrestling inside the arms of your emerald overcoat. Slipping on dirtied shoes your father would be ashamed of with all the clumsy, stumbled excitement of an eager child.

Sven is home…!

You were anxious to see him, even if your intentions of doing so well before your father ineluctably found him were far from merely greeting him home.

With this in mind, you rushed from your private chambers. Down through the broad, stone-floored hallways of your family’s hold, and knew not how you knew his procession arrived, only that you knew. Perhaps it was the song of the field birds, or those of the surrounding pines; that small forest which surrounds your sprawling, mountainous city. Or perhaps it was merely his presence in the air, something clung to the leaves like dappled dew, but you knew; Sven was home. He was safe, and you meant to keep it so.

The chill of the outer courtyard couldn’t receive you fast enough as you rushed past servants and guardsmen out into the dawn. The courtyard filled with horned mounts and war carts, brimming with the sounds of armor and hooves, as inside the gates amasses your brother’s wearied men at arms. And when you see Sven slipping off his steed alongside them, you fail even to call his name. Something catching in your throat as you merely bolt toward his presence, with him too distracted loosing his horned steed’s bridle to see you bounding there. Informed with a breathless grunt upon you tightly seizing him that you’ve come to greet him, swarmed by a hug that might seek to wring him of his very life. 

After tensing in bewilderment, he laughed; his exhales shaking you. “Someone’s eager to greet the dawn.”

“I’d be eager to see you no matter what time it is,” comes your mumbling in his chest.

He clasps one solid arm around your far more fragile form, bronze armor twisting leather joints as he brings you to his ochre-draped chest. Holding you there for warm moments, before shifting his hold somewhat in effectively prying you off him.

He surmises you a moment, as though confused by such fierceness of emotion. Eventually smiling softly. “Good morrow to you as well, dear sister.”

“You’re home,” is all you can muster, like you can’t quite believe it still, and a chuckle harbors once more in his throat.

“I’m home,” he agrees, quite simply. “Had you room for doubt I would be?” 

To this, you withhold response.

He lacks the helm of his fellow horned warriors, of whom it seems what remains of his regiment’s traveled here. Donning instead a fabric mask he now pulls from his nose and face; dark, shoulder-length hair spilling past his crown of two goat-like horns, their curves spiraling toward the sunlight.

He seems to decipher your worries as you eye his men, as you eye him ; giving your chin a small pinch in the effort to snatch you from them.

“I’m well,” he assures you. “You worry far too much.” Glancing at the vine-twisted keep far behind you, he wonders, “Have you told father of my arrival?”

Your expression’s wry. “Has it been so long you’ve forgotten I’m not entirely witless?”

One corner of his lips quirks as his hand shifts to your hair, ruffling it up a bit despite your instant protests. “Happily, it has not. And I’m glad of it. I’d prolong his inevitable criticisms for as long as possible.”

“I’m rather offended you hadn’t told me of your arrival, however,” you point out whilst slapping his giant, armored hand away, to which his dark brows pinch incredulously. 

“I only just arrived! I hardly know how you knew it.” 

Pressing back your responding grin, you shed the skin of levity in favor of matters more severe; ones you’ve rushed here to find him for in the first place.

“Come,” you tell him, in the guise of welcoming him home. “You must be tired. And before our unfortunate father finds you, I have questions of your time at the blockade.”

And though Sven sighs, he doesn’t stop you–allowing himself to be pulled by one hand toward the keep whilst his soldiers behind him toil with horses and armament; some greeting family, others guiding their horses back home. 

“Of course you do,” he mutters, unenthused. “Though I assure you father’s relayed the state of things well enough.”

He hasn’t, and Sven must know that. Your father confides in you nothing. He loves not your gender, preferring you’d been yet another son, and nor does he love you were born without horns. He thinks less of you. Sven can’t deny this unfortunate truth. And he won’t worm his way from your questions by playing fool to it.

“I’d rather hear it from you,” you state, forcing tension from your tone. 

Past chamber after chamber, you drag him searching for one vacant of any eyes that might spot you. And though Sven’s much taller than you, it’s like he’s dragging his feet in some useless attempt to dissuade you.

“My, you’re slow,” you chastise, leaning more weight toward your aims, more or less lugging the tall man forward. “Have you suffered so greatly on your journey that you now walk as a feeble old man?”

He rolls his hazel eyes, though at your taunting, his pace rises to meet yours all the same. “I’ve only just arrived,” he complains. “Have we not time to tarry?”

No, you bite back from saying. Instead steering him inside a broad, open storeroom where you two can be alone. We don’t. 

The room is quite barren, many of its supplies shifted elsewhere in support of the war. And after glancing about in ensuring your privacy, you turn and stare up at your brother hard.

He looks at you with subtle perplexion. Meeting your solemn gaze as all lightness is slowly bled of him.

“What troubles you, sister?”

You’re not sure what to say. Knowing the words, yet somehow sure he will resist them.

In your troubled silence, he takes your arm in reclaiming your wandering gaze again, guiding your worry more toward his. 

“What is it?”

Your mouth presses flat before you manage to force the words out.

“We have to get out of here.”

A crease weighs his brow. “What do you mean, get out of here?”

“I mean it isn’t safe here,” you tell him with more insistence in every second drawn on. 

You steal another glance at the opened doorway beside you, before taking his hand to steer him deeper into the room, away from what prying ears might hear you.

“I’ve heard whispers,” you state, in a whisper all your own. Staring up with desperation, attempting to wring the truth from his dodging hold. “The Impaler…”

Sven’s forearm tenses, though you press on.

“He’s reduced Moorth to naught but ruin, has he not?”

Jawline growing tight, some faint darkness glints his eye in a way suggestive that he did not want you to know this.

“We’ll take the city back,” he says, but you won’t have his dodging.

“Father insists our paths of trade aren’t broken, but I’m not the ignorant simpleton he thinks I am,” you say, fearful and sullen. Determined for whatever ugly truth. “He’s incinerating everything, isn’t he?”

“Who?”

“You know who!” your voice now raises. “Stop treating me like some blissful, ignorant child!”

In his reluctance, silence follows, though you read him well enough. Know your brother better than anyone. And you see something beyond the stone-wall of him splinter.

“That’s why you’re here, then… Isn’t it?” you press him, as your nervous heart still trembles. “To defend these halls… Belurat far beyond them… There’s nowhere else to fall back to. He’s ransacked everything else.”

He doesn’t immediately respond. Instead studying you with the hesitance of not knowing what to say, how honest to be with you.

You demand full honesty. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Through his tension, he says not anything. 

Biting the inside of your lip so harshly it stings, you take both his hands in yours, squeezing harder than you mean to.

“We have to go,” you insist in one breath, unblinking. Hushed enough to hide such treason from any walls that may have ears. “We have to leave the city. Now. We’d be fools to wait any longer.”

The line of his jaw turns to stone as he studies you. 

“And go where?” he wonders at last, voice bladed against you. “There’s nowhere in reach where Messmer’s flames cannot find us.”

You’re left without answers, for there are none for such an impossible thing.

“We’ll find a way through the shadow veil,” you insist in desperation; disheartened to hear his weary scoff. Gripping his hands still tighter to win his ear. “I’ll tear the bloody thing apart myself if I have to,” you persist, not knowing if you even can, if such a thing is possible. “I’ll–”

“Enough,” your brother halts you, with such uncharacteristic firmness it stills your tongue at once.

A flicker on his brow seems to regret his harshness of it, though he carries on unyielding even so. “There’s nowhere more safe than inside these walls. And even were there not, who are we to abandon our people here? While we ourselves flee for spurious safety in the night?”

Our people…

The notion ties labyrinthine cords inside you. For though you care for your people–our people–don’t want them to suffer Messmer’s wrath…

Some of your people’s practices are those of pure horror. Traditions and rituals with shamans–with people–you’ve always found barbarous. Beyond what one can bear. Impossibly cruel.

Still. Even with the bad, there is good here. Hundreds of innocent lives that might be snuffed out. 

But when it comes to their lives, or your brothers…

You choose your brother’s every time, without question. Over every single soul that elsewise exists.

You hold Sven’s gaze as obstinately as he holds yours. “I’m leaving,” you say. “Tonight. And you’re coming with me.”

He regards you still more discontentedly, as some thread inside him fails in tearing through. And when he pulls his hands from the unyielding strangle of yours, there’s the smallest smile forced to his lips that might’ve convinced anyone other than you. 

“I understand your disquiet,” he says. “Truly, I do.” He brushes back some hair behind your ear, as if this alone might cease this war inside you. “But such depth of concern is unfounded. Worry not, dear sister... Messmer’s forces will not reach our city. Nor will the Tower Settlement fall.” 

As you frown, his thumb swipes your chin as though to swipe the shape of it from you.

“You underestimate me,” he says, with a glisten to crinkling eyes. “I’ll protect you, as I always have. As you know I always will. In this, you can be certain. And with it allow this matter to rest.”

You merely scowl at him. “You’re… You’re being stubborn… pigheaded… I–”

He laughs before frustration lets you finish. Drawing you to him. Hugging your scowling close whilst he strokes the back of your hornless head with playful fingers.

“I’ve heard tell of my being such,” he agrees, lightly. “Enough that I fear it must be true. The pigheaded prince, they call me.”

His embrace is comfort enough that your fears are near forgotten. Though it slips through your grasping fingers all too swiftly as he lets you go, with guidance toward the doorway where the two of you both entered. 

It’s obvious that he would see this conversation’s end, while you consider it hardly started.

“I also fear our father’s already loathe to’ve not addressed me,” he says, with this in mind, though with little relish. “I’m sure I’ll be his unwilling captive in the war room at least till dusk. After which…”

He pauses just before the doorway, turning you toward him with gentle hands.

“I expect you to sit with me at whatever feast he’s surely hosting.”

Your attempt at jest’s still murky with clouds of doubt. “A feast… I suppose your presence warrants as much...”

His eyes, even now, cast a sparkle. “Is that doubt on your tongue?” he ribs you. “My presence warrants several feasts, at least. Lavish ones, where the whole of the city stumbles home drunk from them.”

You look away, in no mood for his usual liveliness. And his fingers grace your upper arms in catching your gaze once more. Eyes passing between your worried ones.

“Be at peace, dear sister,” he says, with firmness reassuring, even now. “Leave worry with me. I won’t let ill befall you.” He gives your arms a squeeze. “Save me a spot at the table tonight, will you? Near some comely friend of yours. I could use a lovely distraction.”

You fight back the smallest smile in response. “I’ll have no part in you breaking some poor girl’s heart again.”

“Then I’ll take care not to break it this time,” he teases. 

As he’d guessed, you did not see your brother again till the world became swallowed by night.

Your father’s great hall is thunderous. Partiers laughing, people jeering, as though the only one worried is you.

How can they all be so ignorant of what death approaches?

You wish you could shrink from it; this jovial place. But you’re not one to cast aside a more pleasant reunion with your brother than the short one you shared this morning, so you stay, beside his and your father’s empty seats at the longtable as instructed.

As a man slick with sweat reaches toward you across the table for yet another leg of lamb, a darkened presence hovers just behind where you sit.

“Is this seat taken?”

The boldness, to ask such a thing of your brothers chair. Only a nitwit would speak such stupidity, and you turn to see said nitwit standing there.

He’s older, with a tangle of horns on his brow. A thin smile and small eyes, with teeth greased with the ale which surely prompted this.

Yet another, it would seem, after your affluent hand. As if your father hadn’t plans to sell you to whoever’s hand flattered his own most. 

“Yes,” you say brusquely, turning away more rudely than you mean, though you find it hard in that moment to care. 

You grab the flask of ale before you and suck it down as though you mean to drown in it.

Wherever is your damnable brother?

Wiping amber from your lips with an unladylike hand, you endeavor to breathe some fresh air. Standing up far too quickly, to the effect of nearly toppling over, and it’s no wonder you don’t often drink liquor.

Wavering your way from the hall, you make your way out into night. Out, through the courtyard, knowing not where you wander, only that you’d rid yourself of all raucous and smell of that festivous hell.

Ale warms your veins, yet you still rub gooseflesh from your arms as you wander in your long-sleeved gown up the stairway of the keep’s curtain wall, thinking to look out at the darkness beyond the sprawling city’s light.

The breeze is stronger up here, on the wall’s utmost walkway. Curling the length of your skirts in about you, tugged to and fro with the wind's invisible hands. And you stare outward, full of worry, not aware that you aren’t alone.

“Didn’t know I’d have such fine company.”

It’s a gruff voice which greets you, and you turn with a start, though it’s only a grizzled guard who addresses you. A graying old man with kind eyes and a knobby head of horns. Is your father so wanting of forces he’d pluck some greybeard from his bed to man the bailey?

“Apologies,” you say, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your watch.” Vacillating a moment, before adding, “I’d stay a while, if you’d allow it.”

His eyes crease as he smiles, pushing himself up off the half-wall he’d previously leaned upon.

“Stay as long as you like,” he says. “There’s naught much to look at. Boredom’s making me numb.”

Your attempt to return his smile falls short. “I fear I may fail to salve boredom, if that’s what you hope. I’m not presently much for conversation.”

He quirks a grandfatherly brow. “Long night?”

If he wasn’t so kindly, you might be aggrieved he’s still insistent on chatting away through the night. But as it were, you just sigh. Staring out into the darkness beyond the city. 

“One longer has yet to grace me.”

“Say no more,” he says, understanding. “The quiet’s a balm for such things.”

Relieved, you take him up on such advice.

You stay on the wall with this stranger who feels somehow a friend for some time. Likely longer than you ought to. And it thaws you, inch by inch, of that worry which clings; enough till you finally clear your throat to speak, to somehow return this man's kindness. Though as you turn to say a word, a flicker of light in the distance instead captures your focus.

Standing straighter, you're drawn like a moth to that faraway glisten. Watching as one glimmer turns to four. Then a dozen. Then more. Unable to turn away from whatever those pinprick lights are as they loom so far across the horizon, like stars dragged over ground. Asking the graybeard, “Do you see that…?”

You hear the old man’s armor shifting as he seems to adjust his gaze.

“...Aye,” he says at last. “I see it.”

You cannot look away. And how some flickers of light can distress you, you fail fully to grasp or name why. “What is it?”

Silence, as the graybeard beside you stares.

“...M’not sure,” he utters at length. Perturbed, a touch, it seems. “Though whatever they are… They're getting closer.”

Reaching one grizzled hand toward his neck, the old man grasps a silver looking-glass from where it dangles upon his chest, raising it in scanning outward. And with a glance at him, you wait with bated breath for word of what's seen.

“...Too dark to see for certain,” he murmurs, his tone more weighed than before. His eye staying glued to his contraption. “...There’s perhaps two dozen… N’whatever they are, they’re too large to rightly be torches…”

For stretching moments, he stares outward, as do you. Until finally he offers you his looking-glass, slipping its delicate chain off from round his neck.

“Take a look,” he offers, and in disquietude you do, not so much as thinking to decline him. Something raising every fine hair on your skin, though the reason eludes. 

You see…

…Flames.

The distance holds them small, in the palm of its night-drenched hand, though with every second passed they grow larger. Wavering midst the shadows, as if lumbering side to side; as though flame itself's somehow walking.

You peer past the lens to stare with the naked eye again. And it's then you first feel it. The ground come so slowly to life. A sensation so subtle at first you cannot hear the distant thuds which crescendo each minute vibration, more and more, til you cannot deny them. A sort of hum. A twisting of earth. More rhythmic with each second dragged on.

Despite how vague and far those groans of earth, whatever could be their cause flashes images of horror inside your mind. Of something you’ve only heard tell of; a wickedness only since dreamed. Of machines, gnarled and vast, designed with the fuel of bodies. Tall as any tower. Barred as any gael. Fashioned for death and the installation of fear in any soul hapless enough to look upon them.

Just its image painted in your mind inscribes fear in you now, as was its architects intention.

You stumble back a step, eyes growing wide in the darkness as you stare at those ever-growing flames. And though you lack any proof of their purpose, some piece inside you knows what they are. Why they’re here.

The looking-glass tumbles with a delicate plink from your grasp, while the man beside you’s expression draws confusion.

“What is it?” he asks, but you’re already running. Down the bailey’s length, down stairs, through the courtyard's growing dim.

Sven.

You hear the graybeard’s horn sound behind you, and though you should find relief in what little solace its call to your father’s forces might bring you, you cannot care. It matters little. For surely those golems grow nearer with every lumbering step, and there’s nothing you or your father’s dwindling men can do to stop them, not if all tell you've heard about Messmer is true.

The ground further shakes, undeniable in what it might bring you, as you enter the sconce-scattered castle. Fighting the length of your damnable skirts as you bound in through the hallways as fast as you can, as already panic clouds your vision.

Messmer will feed your bodies to his golems one by one. Impale all others. Leave your ashes to rot on a graveyard of spears, your tombs like a forest. Your corpses charred black, with faces frozen in whatever terror his flames found you in; whatever anguish his spear brought before the mercy of death.

You run still faster; in past the broad, opened doorways of the dining hall, where merriment’s paused in favor of scattered, flummoxed eyes and panicked questioning, though even that you find hard to hear.

You need to find Sven. Need to drag him to any place far from here. You have to protect him, as he always has you–even from himself if you must, and such is his dauntless, stubborn pride that you likely will.

There’s no stopping what may come, you should have dragged him from this place far sooner, you–

You're too late.

You were too late–dammit, you–!

Reeling as you turn one hallway’s bend, you're forced to shove your way past those filing into the corridors; servants, guardsmen, guests, all traveling with purpose or else questioning if you're under attack. And it's nothing short of a blessing catching eye of Sven's height lingering above the masses, as he likewise spots you; gaze alight with relief as he fights his way toward you.

Lodged within the crowds of mismanaged havoc, he takes your arm and drags you further into the keep, beyond the rising panic of those behind you. 

The ground further quakes. Iron chandeliers overhead further quivering. 

How close must they be now? Those colossal, wandering flames?

“I saw them,” you tremble as Sven further leads you, knowing not where he guides, too dazed to question. “I saw them, Sven. The furnaces. I–I couldn’t–they were so far away, but they–”

“I should have sent you away this morning,” he says, almost to himself, which does nothing to allay that viperous terror twisting through you. Sounding to wrest up whatever hope he has left whilst adding, “Though it’s not too late.”

It’s then that you realize he’s leading you in the direction of the stables.

You seize his wrist; stopping him in his tracks as his impatient, worried expression turns across one shoulder, his gaze alone questioning whether you’ve succumbed to sudden madness.

“I won’t leave without you,” you tell him, knowing already his intent. That he’d send you off and remain behind here. As of course he would, seeing reason to fight, though you won’t allow it.

This stubborn, stubborn man.

He doesn’t answer. Instead attempting to drag you on again, though you dig your heels in as sediment trembles from the rumbling walls all around you. 

“I’m not leaving without you!”

You don’t mean to shout, but you do. 

He looks at you as though you’re a war he’s already lost.

“I can’t leave while the city needs defended,” he argues, resolve fused to his every sinew. 

His valor is nothing short of infuriating.

“Then I’m staying with you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Should you put me on a mount I’ll simply ride right back,” you protest, gaze growing wild. “You can’t make me go anywhere unless you ride by my side in ensuring it!”

His look is of utter frustration. But as horns blare and some distant, bone-deep tremor once more shakes the earth, inspiring a ripple of far away screams in the castle, there isn’t time to dissuade you. And with an agitated breath, he diverts course in leading up a set of winding stairs–those leading toward the hallway of your bedroom, where he guides you with swiftness.

“Stay here,” he says, ushering you inside your chambers. Seeming barely to accept such a compromise. “Bar the door. Remain hidden. I’ll return for you.”

The rapid beating of hooves and heels sounds far below your bedroom's balcony window, and too soon Sven's turned to leave, with you grabbing his wrist before he is able. “Don’t go! Don’t… Don’t go out there, Sven…!”

Tears burn your eyes, their threat overwhelming your lashes, and the resolve of Sven's own expression crumbles somewhat to see it.

He takes your face gently in his both hands while you plead with him once more, “Don’t go…” Steering you just a touch closer in placing a kiss upon your brow.

“Do as I’ve told you,” he bids, resolutely. “Allow no other entrance. I’ll return here as soon as I’m able. You have my word of this.”

And with this, he is gone. His warmth left on your cheeks as tears spill where his touch had been.

You staunchly refuse the cruel suggestion of your heart; that this may be the last time you see him. Uncertain how you’ll barricade your door with no lock on its innermost side, though you’re desperate to keep your mind busy, to heed Sven’s instructions. So with great effort, you squeeze yourself in behind your bed’s massive headboard, barely managing to shove it inch by awkward inch away from the stone-hewn wall. Shoving with all your strength until the mass of it blockades the doorway.

Time is as much a weapon as any sword. And as you wait for your brother's return, heart tangled by vines in your chest, you seek to pry yourself from terror enough to stumble out onto your balcony, where night wraps you up in its arms.

The song of steel and iron grows ever louder from down below. Your view half-concealed by the edge of the castle. Horns sounding more in the darkness. The rumble of beasts and mounts and men shaking into the ground. And your strained eyes grow wider upon seeing a haze of flame glowing just outside the city, bewitching the air to a blistering hellscape of dancing cinder and molten fog.

Such a harrowing sight overwhelms you.

Whatever has come, it is here.

Your hands grip desperately to the terrace’s balustrade as the world around you abruptly lurches in place, and with a vicious crack one section of walls round the city erupts into pieces, struck by some mammoth blow beyond what your vision can see. Stones tumbling like naught more than ash as a behemoth lumbers in through the wreckage. A mountainous cage of a being, weighed slow by its body of metal; stomach burning with the piled corpses of past feasts. Its silhouette singed against darkness, twisted by hundreds of arms reaching out through the bars of its belly; burned slow enough to long to be free.

You long to look away, yet can scarcely remember to breathe. The cities outmost towers growing brighter with ashes and flame in a nauseating dance of destruction that would see all before it laid waste, as behind the crushed path of each furnace, Messmer's forces are free to bleed in. 

The city you've known all your life slowly transforms beyond all recognition. Your sense of time broken, sands scattered to the wind, as you watch the growing onslaught in horror. Your pupils shrinking from a vicious, sudden trail of horrid brightness as tendrils of flame lick the air, weaving through it, met soon by a chorus of screams that grow shrill before melting. Lungs scorched in a firestorm that sets the very sky on fire, and you've never seen anything like it. Like a dragon assaults your city, though even they cannot wield such a vicious flame.

You can do nothing but watch as fire tangles through buildings and streets. Your fingernails digging into your palms till the marks left behind may soon bleed.

Sven…

You… You can’t just stay here, sequestered in your room like this-!

You have to find him,

You have to help him–!

But if you leave, how might he find you amidst the chaos?

You have to stay here. He needs to know where you are when he surely comes back, for he will. He’ll come back. His word was given.

Villagers run through the streets as flame leaks its way its alleys; into the very reaches of your father’s keep, as its bailey comes crashing at the slam of a furnace golem’s gnarled excuse for a fist. And as your world shakes you hear Messmer’s men storming in through the courtyard. Hear the clashing of metal grow near. The screams of terror in hallways, all while fear tears through your bosom like an animal clawing to get out.

Where is your brother?!

It feels as though an eternity has held you breathless in its clutches, and as the sounds of war draw nearer, your walls feel to close in.

Footsteps soon sound within the corridor behind your shuttered doorway. Soldiers grunting, weapons clattering to the ground beside a distant woman’s shriek. And then the handle of your door’s taken hold of. The wood of it shuddered by what seems an impatient hand; rattled against how your bed keeps it fully from opening.

Your attention hones tightly toward it.

Sven…?

It remains as a thought, your throat’s tautness not letting you speak it. As you watch in a silence that would strip all reason raw while the door falls eerily still.

You’ve no time to react before your chamber’s entrance blasts violently open in a hailstorm of splintered wood and flame, whipping the room with embers as you stumble back and scream from the ruined blockade of your doorway. 

Snowflake cinders hang loosely in the air as your eyes strain through the rubble, and you know not the man who stands there in the wreckage, whose outline swirls amidst wisping smoke, though he’s wearing Messmer’s red. A pointed helm adorns his looming outline, its steeple skyward, and from his breadth a dripping crimson cowl falls lapping at his heels. Armored head to toe in blackened steel save the shape of his slowly smiling lips as he beholds you. And though you can’t see his gaze through the intricate, beak-like visor he wears, you you can feel his curious eyes scanning over your shape.

“Well… What have we here,” he croons above the distant hymn of bloodshed; that war below now muted by growing unease. “A hornless trollop all alone in her chambers… Tucked away, it would seem, just for me…”

His cruel lips curve as you instinctively falter from him, recoiling further toward the terrace at your back, even when its height would further trap you.

The man steps in through your doorway's ruin, unperturbed by anxious lack of welcoming him in.

“You aren’t quite as foul as the rest of them,” he observes, almost to himself. In no real hurry to approach you, as instead he makes a game of dread. Bits of broken wood twisting beneath his heavy, prowling footsteps as he draws ever closer, and though you glance to the ravaged doorway behind him, with him its gate its passage feels to shrink.

“Not the talkative sort?” he wonders, idly, with a falsely exhaustive sigh. “What a pity… I'd hear your tearful pleas, were it up to me.”

His drawing nearness springs a trap in you, and unthinkingly you try to flee. Though as you bolt in sprinting past him you find he’s far faster than you could have believed.

He’s snatched your wrist in his harshly armored grip before you can even flinch, his every finger steel and pointed. Flinging you without mercy onto the rubble of your bed as a cry tears from your chest, your body shaken as you tumble. 

“Such a morsel I’ve found myself,” he breathes, becoming feverish as a predator above prey. “You do look hornless… Though I’d be sure of it. Let us see if you have any defilements in places I haven’t yet seen, hm?”

Terror wraps fists around you, and though you scramble to get up, to run, he’s on you in an instant. The weight of him shackling you down against your ruined mattress on the floor. The snakelike scales of his ruby tabbard scraping up your kicking legs as he roughly straddles down your writhing form, and though you strike his half-masked face in desperation it does naught but scrape your fingers raw.

He laughs at the attempts to dissuade him. Snatching your wrists and squeezing until you fear your bones might crack.

“There’s that flame,” he croons, tone gleefully debased. “I thought for a moment you’d bore me. How long might that tiny flame flicker before tamping out, I wonder?”

With hungry hands, he grips and tears the flowing fabric of your gown at the seams, ripping it from your thighs as alarm makes you mindless, has you kicking out wildly in the attempt to be free.

“Let me go!” you scream, voice stripped by panic. “Let me go! Get off of me–!”

His breathy laughter’s a horrible thing. But all at once it’s frozen in his throat; locked away as his muscles all seize. Its cruelty marred instead to a painful choke, something congealed, as a swing of metal shears the air behind him, slashing through what seems his severed spine.

His form grows rigid with the realization of death. Wavering in how he pins you, before slumping down like a lifeless tree whilst your lungs are crushed beneath him. And though you fight to claw him off, his weight of steel proves too much for your waning strength.

Some hand seizes the cowl which drapes the dead man’s neck, tearing his body from you. And with a gasp of needed breath you’re overcome to see Sven, like a beacon above you; his red-slicked sword in hand.

Blood and ash fill the lines of his handsome face. Concern whiting his brow as he reaches down to take your shell-shocked hand.

There’s little time to coddle you.

“Are you hurt?”

Tension cleaves to every inch of you, though as you struggle to swallow, you also strive to nod your head. 

“I’m… I’m fine.”

The need to thank him once again for saving you, as it seems he always does, trembles past your mind with you too overwhelmed to fully grasp it. And Sven’s jaw is hard as he holds your trembling hand, his fingers weaving through your own.

“Come,” he says, not wasting words. Towing your stumbling fragility with him from the horror of your chambers. 

You haven’t made it far at all before the clamor of many footsteps resounding in these hallways soon assails you. And round the corridor's bend, just several yards before you, comes a cluster of soldiers in regalia you don’t recognize, so they must be Messmer’s men. Led by a knight in red like that of your bedroom.

Their party pauses upon sighting you, as does yourself and a stiffening Sven. His giant hand gripping yours more fiercely.

Silence, as time strips thin and the lot of you warily eye one another.

“You there,” the red knight says, his voice like brass. “You are the son of the false, impure king, unjustly throned in these lands, I presume?”

Shifting slowly forward, Sven secures himself one step before where you stand, stricken beside him.

“Would that I were,” he says, ever defiant. “What difference does it make?”

The knight before you slowly smiles, though its quick to fade away. 

“We’d make a sigil of your broken body in the courtyard,” he says. “I’d hoped to fell you outside. Alas, we must now drag you there, instead.”

The line of Sven's shoulders grows taut, before abruptly he shoves you from him, your hand stripped from his–pushing you further behind him.

“Go,” he orders, not glancing back. “Run.”

You tremble, and cannot move but to shake your head. Salt soon stinging your vision. Unwilling to obey him.

“No–”

“Go!” he shouts, yet still you cannot heed him. Will not heed him.

The red knight tilts his chin, gesturing three soldiers carry on before him. And already your brother’s sword is raised; knocking back one spear that would see him dead, and then the another. Repelling blows as each comes raining in, trading strikes through the bedlam.

He holds them off for much longer than any man rightly should, such is your brother, such is his mastery of sword. Sweat soaks his brow, blood spilling through his armor with every blow he fails to break. Felling two of Messmer's men as two more are sent by the man in red to take their place, and you're terrified he’ll tire before the end of them. 

You scarcely notice, at first, how beneath his steps bubbles forth a glowing pool of red.

You watch in pure horror as flames like vines slowly leak up through the cracks of the floorboards, tendrils of searching crimson, while Sven’s too caught by battle to heed them. And the moment you cry out for him to run is already a cry too late, as those flames burst forth with sudden violence. Flinging from their center a massive spear, pierced up from the very ground he stands on, as though formed from the shadow of his feet.

The spear flings forth with impossible strength, goring high into the ceiling like the shoot of a savage, crooked tree. It’s hilt still buried in the ground as its speartip thucks up high in the timber above you; piercing through Sven's middle, metal lifting through his ribs.

His body's rigid where he hangs, high above where once he'd stood fighting. And you forget what feeling even is as his body gradually falls limp. Sword slipped from wilting fingers. Clattering to the ground so far below his hanging feet.

All you can see is him and that spear he hangs on. An awful monument to a moment that will live with you forever. And you stare at this nightmare of him; balking backward. Stare, as your heart crumbles into pieces, and you can do nothing else. 

Sven…

You can’t find breath enough to even cry his name, though it trembles in the pit carved where your heart and lungs once lived.

Those soldiers still alive before you part within the haze that strangles your breath, making way as someone else approaches, though you hardly notice as you stand there. Defeated. Tears blurring your vision to a melted, burning thing. 

….Sven…!

He cannot hear those cries you fail to utter. And even should you scrape them from your chest, he’ll never hear your words again. Nor your larks. Nor your laughter. 

Just this once, you might've protected him. Just this once. Yet here you've failed him. 

“Do not prolong the inevitable,” a low, serrated voice condemns from midst your shrouded torment, and you blink away what tears you can, straining through grief to see a dreadfully towering man, so tall no common hallway could ever hope to hold him.

You’ve only heard tell of Messmer. That his hair is red as bloodied fire. That his eye, his only eye, is as gold as Marika’s sins. That two winged snakes adorn him, with agile minds and bodies it seemeth all their own. And yet even those two snakes now watch you, along with their wretched master. Their emerald eyes trained to your every movement, though you shift none.

You bite back your tears; anguish giving way to anger. Your jawline like glass, so hard and close to splintering, but still you’ll grit your jaw up at this red-maned savage as though on his neck you were clamping down, tearing the very life from him.

His captain steps forward, but Messmer’s lengthy, muscled arm raises scarcely enough to halt him in place, though his order's immediately heeded. And though his captain’s face lay hidden behind a snake-like helm so similar to Messmer’s own, you can sense the confusion which braces through him.

“Not her,” says Messmer, so low you scarcely hear him. And you stare, at this monstrous man, while he meets your gaze with what seems not an ounce of pity. 

His eye, you admit, is a strangely beguiling thing. Like a spell that might dissect the furthest reaches of you. Its gold so strangely brilliant, like a pinprick of flame, gnawing through the darkness.

“...Take her,” his deep voice at length breaks through the enchantment of his gaze, and you at once feel panic swell at such an order. “We couldst use another specimen for the storehouse.”

And then, he is gone; turned without another word said, as though he matters of much more import to attend to than whatever in any hell his decreed fate as ‘specimen’ might bring you.

You far prefer death.

When Messmer’s captain comes for you, obedient dog that he is, you immediately try to run only for your gown to snag you back within his clutches. And as he lifts you beneath one arm like a satchel of wheat, you snarl and you fight with every bit of strength remained in you; transformed into a hopeless, feral thing. Clawing at his legs, biting at his wrist despite his armor blunting every blow at him, until he slaps you so hard your vision blurs and all sound’s replaced by the ringing of your skull, your body hanging momentarily limp.

It does no good, your fighting, though you scream and writhe and fail to stave back tears as you’re carried from your father’s ruined castle.

The world outside is smoldering waste.

All is fire and ash. 

You see no one else left living.

You have nothing.

Nothing.

This demigod of flame has taken everything from you. Has burned away your heart to an ashen pit. And while you are still living, you will do everything within your power to gift him the very same.

[ AUTHORS NOTE ] f’s in chat for Sven, rip gone too soon 😔 I actually felt really bad killing him, but I wanted to give you a legitimate, visceral reason to hate Messmer so he had to go. Anyway thanks for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts 💕

[murfeelee]

Murf's Top 50 Mods - Part 3 (2020 - 2023 Edition)

I made a Top 50 list (Pt 1 and Pt2) back in 2016, talking about mods that I've used & love. But with all the goated content that the amazing TS3 community continues to churn out, I NEEDED to update my list! This one in no way diminishes or negates the other mods I've already listed--like, I shouldn't have to sit here and explain how NRAAS continues to carry TS3 on its freaking shoulders, ok. This is just MORE mods, the Top 50 most RECENT ones I've tried out since, like, quarantine.

I am a VERY niche simmer--I love fantasy gameplay, so my fave mods are the ones that not only offer general quality of life improvements, but also add new abilities and interactive objects inspired by different cultures, time periods, or genres. So y'all already KNOW which ones have earned my top spots. They're not based on which mods are "better," just which ones I personally have been using the most.

1: Smooth Patch, LazyDuchess

I've already gushed about this mod, but oh well. Like--I use an EFFTON of CC. My Live Mode gameplay itself doesn't tend to lag so much as my game's slow to LOAD, slow to save, CAS is a nightmare, I can do my taxes waiting for the Misc Decor section to open, etc etc. But the Smooth Patch loads everything so much quicker for me! 😭

One thing is that on the EA App version (curse you, EA) the Master Controller package didn't work on my end, so I took it out, but everything else has been great!

2: Search Mod, LazyDuchess

Speaking of the Misc Decor section -- HOW LONG did we ask EA for a Search function y'all? Only to be ignored. Then the second TS4 is released, it ain't got a effing thing in it, but it's got a Search function??? 🤔 ISTG it's like the simgurus were told to take all of the TS3 community's best suggestions, and poach them for TS4 (like vampire coffins--NO I'm not over it!). WHY do modders have to do your frikkin job for you, EA?! I call EA lazy all the time cuz EA you suck, so it's the most ironic thing ever that LazyDuchess is out here KILLING IT.

My ONLY "complaint" about the Search mod is the position of the icon. I use A LOT of Collection Files, and I noticed that the Search icon actually covers the Delete button when in the Collection viewer. So I can't delete items in collections with the Search icon in the way.

But this is a MINOR nitpick--I almost never delete items, it's just something I noticed is all.

3 - 8: OCCULT MODS: EVERYTHING by @puddingface1902

Y'all already know the Enhanced Witches mod is my favorite mod ever made. But PF1902 also made cool enhancements to the Fairies, Genies, Vampires, Werewolves, and Mermaids too! My sims are usually Nraas hybrids (e.g.: Sakura is a faery, witch & plantsim; Magnus Bane is a witch & genie; etc.), so it's FANTASTIC having so many new abilities for my magical occults. 😍

9 - 11: OCCULT MODS by xantak22

Even more occult mods at MTS are for enhanced Plantsims, Ghosts, and Mummies! I was dying for more Plantsim abilities, omg, they're my 3rd fave occult after Witches & Fae.

12: Sim Control Tools by Knight

Sooooo many quality of life mods have come out! ^0^

I've been ABUSING the Teleport To Me function, to quickly get sims off of lots & where I need them to be. It also lets sims unlock more Social/Romantic interactions. (Now all we need is a way to interact with sims from EA's useless thumbnails.)

13 - 18: @anitmb's mods

There are SOOOO many--most I've yet to even try. But so far newer ones I've been using are the Deck of Cards (FINALLY something other than EA's bulky AF poker table!), Farm Mod (look at all these CHICKENS!), and Hunting mod so my 8000 archer sims can actually hunt! (Ofc I've also used the Woodcutter and Anvil mods in my older gameplay posts, too.) And @mspoodle1's edit of the Cup of Tea mod is so pretty.

19: @mspoodle1's Poker table

Another excellent cards mod is this medieval style poker table I use a lot now, too.

20: @omedapixel's Wildflowers DR

I like EA's default wildflowers from SSNS, but Omeda's are just sooooo much nicer. (I haven't gotten around to trying out their Harvestable Plant DR yet.)

21: Swordfighting mod by CyrusBanefort

En garde! This mod is so freaking epic!

One thing I've noticed is that the game lags while it waits for the mod to boot up (a message has to first pop up saying it's running when you first launch your saves). But other than that this mod is excellent.

22 - 24: Yoga rugs

I've long been using the yoga rugs by Kitabalibar and the edited one from @mspoodle1. But now there's the newest one by @twinsimming, with brand new animations & features. The more the merrier I say, LOL. What's especially neat is the kids wobbling around as they try to do yoga! :3

25 - 30: TheSweetSimmer's mods--so cute! :3

Omg so frikkin many, I can't even catch up! The interactions are so freaking precious, like from the More Toddler Interactions (cuddle, look at, etc) & Biggest Little Mod (hug legs), I've never had so much fun playing with kids! <3 And I LOVE that they can Catch Butterflies and Pick Flowers--you'd think plantsim children would be able to do this by default, EA! Honestly, just grab everything by TSS, your kid sims will thank you!

31 - 33: @spheresims Medieval/Nature/Tribal mods

Y'all know I'm crazy about the Functional Fireplaces mod (the cauldrons, baby! 😈), but the One with Nature and Wildlife Hunting mods are great too, perfectly complimenting the off-the-grid realness.

34: @olomayasims/Cmomoney Smoking Mod Overhaul

The original smoking mod was on my first Top 50 list, so it's awesome seeing it get new upgrades, interactions & animations.

I've never smoked IRL, but sooooo many of my sims just puff-puff away; I'm such an enabler. U_U Now all we need is cigars and pipes!

35 - 38: Callia-Evergreen/Camkitty's CAS CC for animal hybrids at MTS

Not a "mod" per se, but whatever--my list my rules! I love ALL of their CC, but I get SO MUCH use out of animal-themed CC like the digitigrade sliders, wolf feet, lizard tails, and fae wings. Do check them out if you like to play with horror and monster-sims!

39: @greenplumbboblover's Sheep

EASILY one of the most incredible mods I've ever seen. Like....HOW? (Once @omedapixel's Goats are done I'm gonna start screaming someone do llamas pleeeeeaaaaase!!!)

40: Arsil's musical instruments mod

I used the sax most recently in my IWTV gameplay, and it was excellent, perfect for the NOLA vibes! However, although I use the flute A LOT more (for my Untamed gameplay--it's been such a GODSEND!), I really wish the hands were positioned better, preferably using the poses from Chisims' flute poseset. (But I don't eff with poses/animations, otherwise I'd do it myself. U_U) Ah well, it's still one of my fave mods though.

41 - 42: Flower Arranging mod by zoe22 + @mspoodle1's Florist Collection

Guys, I've been wanting this mod since FOREVER! ^0^ (I swear, the best thing about TS4 is all the 4t3 conversions, LMAO!) I just wish Teens could Dabble and use it, too--all they can do is stock the table.

43: Just Sit/Nap Anywhere by FloTheory

Sometimes you just want sims to fall asleep anywhere, DANG, EA!

44: @sweetdevil-sims' Toddler Food DR

Cuz EA's food is UUUUUUUUGLY~! I kept forgetting to install it, only to be rudely reminded every time I had to look at my toddler sims eating MUD.

45 - 46: @mspoodle1's mail pen quill DR and @omedapixel's pencil quill DR

I looooove quill pens IRL (ballpoint pens, not the fountain pens--I'm way too messy), so having mods that let my sims use them too is 👌

47: Fireflies Enhanced! by Canibal_MLO

I love anything that enhances the wildlife and collectibles/harvestables to be more dynamic and interactive. And I was JUST about to do a firefly catching scene for my IWTV insp. gameplay, so this came right on time! The falling leaves effect is delightful, but I kinda wish it was falling flower petals instead, cuz ofc I do. 🌸

48: Unicorn Aurora DR by Canibal_MLO

GORGEOUS. This mod replaces the unicorn mist with northern lights, like.... I love the genius ideas simmers have.

49: Custom Plumbbob Color tool by CrossTheMersey

What a neat idea! Although the default Maxis colors are ingrained in my psyche, with the iconic green plumbbob, as soon as I saw this mod I knew I wanted to at least try something different and play around with it.

50: @aa6x7's Teru Teru Bozu + other edits [Honorable Mention]

I rave about Cmomoney's Time/Weather Mod all the time, I use it constantly. AA6x7's Teru Teru Bozu (Japanese "Sunshine Monk" charms) is kinda like a simpler version of it, as it just resets bad weather back to Sunny. But it's such a cute idea and perfect for my gameplay. Plus, AA6x7 makes all kinds of neat edits/mods to EA's bulky AF meshes, so if you haven't checked them out already, DO!

And that's all the mods I've managed to try out recently!

I don't have anywhere near the kind of free time that I used to, so my simming has been put on the backburner and I've missed all kinds of cool and exciting releases. But trust: I am taking note, so that I know what to try once I have time.

All my deepest & sincerest gratitude & love to the entire sims community, for keeping The Sims 3 going--this year was the 14th anniversary! Here's to 14 more! 🥳 Happy Simming!

[genericpuff]

alright so this is a post I've been wanting to write up for a little while now, but I was waiting on permission from a third party to post DM's (censored, of course). That permission has since returned with a yes, soooo

LET'S TALK ABOUT RACHEL'S HIRING PROCESSES-

okay this isn't gonna be as comprehensive as I'm making it sound BUT I've mentioned before on this page (albeit briefly and it's long since been buried) that I actually applied to be a background artist for Rachel a couple years ago, I think it was around the midpoint of S2, and it was (obviously) before I turned to the dark side of crit-n-shit-posting. I never got an email back, so that was that. I'd like to think there's a parallel universe out there where instead of joining the antiLO/ULO community, I became an assistant for Rachel and remained a fan. Enjoy that fridge horror thought.

That said, while I didn't get a response, someone on reddit mentioned that they did:

And they were kind enough to share further details with me in DM's.

Right off the bat, I'm fairly certain they were applying to the same ad I was (as it was a posting that Rachel had made on Twiter and the approximate years line up).

All that aside, considering what Rachel's process is like with her assistants (from what we've discussed here in GREAT detail), it's not shocking in the slightest that the vibe of working with Rachel from the very beginning was "IDK what I'm looking for".

Buuut that's not the end of the exchange because it gets better.

Mind you, this was back in 2019 and it was the experience of one user, so it doesn't necessarily reflect every assistant on the team or how Rachel does things down to the last detail. But it's pretty damning enough that you can still see the evidence of this kind of workflow in current LO 4 years later. If anything she's continued to operate with a rapidly declining pipeline because the art just keeps getting worse and worse.

Part me of wants to say that this could be on Webtoons, as they don't offer support to creators to have assistants. Creators have to pay for their assistants completely out of pocket, split from the income they make from Webtoons. This is why so many creators often don't have assistants or their 'assistants' are also their co-creators (see: Nevermore, which is drawn and written by two people working together).

But Rachel has an average of four assistants per episode, sometimes as many as eight in some cases (though it's been a while since that's happened so I won't really count it for this post).

That means Rachel's team is typically made up of five people, including herself, and that's not including the recent addition of copy editors (but that balances out with the times when Amy Kim isn't contributing , she tends to pop in and out).

Now, she's not the only person on WT with a team of this size, there are others with comparable teams if not bigger ones, but NONE of them seem to operate with as much inconsistency as LO does, and that's not on the assistants, that's on Rachel. She's said in interviews that she always wanted to be a director and that making LO on Webtoons was her way of achieving that, but she doesn't seem to have the integrity or leadership skills necessary to take charge when the team isn't working in sync. You don't see any of these insane art art inconsistencies in webtoons like The Kiss Bet or Tower of God (though they have their own problems, the art isn't one of them), and there are webtoons operating without a team at all that are drawing circles around LO right now, like Nevermore (which is, by the way, also edited by Bre Boswell, same as LO).

Now, that's not to say there isn't struggling underneath the surface, the creators of Nevermore have stated how difficult it is to work for Webtoons as it is, especially as creators who don't have assistants. But how is the #1 comic on the platform failing to meet the standards that come with its labels and awards? Why are the exceptionally better comics being drawn by 1-2 people not getting the attention or opportunities they deserve from the platform? And why does Rachel Smythe, one of the highest paid creators on the platform, still seem to struggle with managing a team of artists after five years of publication on Webtoons? Why does she choose to have a large team if she can't pay them adequately? Why have a large team at all if she's not going to utilize their skills properly? To further lighten the load of work onto others?

Really, it just goes to show the lack of care and respect all around - for the self, for the work, and for those who are pushing out the work and meeting the deadlines, whose reputations and potential are being dragged down with the comic itself.

[daftpatience]

Im so thrilled you have gotten into lupin the third! I love all these goobers so much. Just know that if you ever plan on making meech I'd buy all of it.

Questions for you:

Which series (jacket color) did you get into first?

Also got any pen assignments for the lup gang?

WAAH TY i got so excited to think about all this (and im very excited to say merch is COMING. should i post abt it i made some promos awhile ago and have been sitting on them since i dont have a solid timeline yet)

i first watched castle of cagliostro and then bits of part one years ago, so my first lupin was green jacket lupin! i didn't know about part 4+ at the time so i was like "yep that was a cute old show" and didnt dig much deeper until recently! i've been watching a lot of the old movies and the newer parts and im losing my mind over how cute and fun it all is. lupin is so my type its annoying

ON TO THE PEN ASSIGNMENTS!!! (TY FOR ASKING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO DO THESE) long post incomingggg

i'm giving lupin an aurora optima - it comes in a lotta colours (there's even a limited edition pink one) and is classy/high quality/italian made/etc. feel like that'd suit his aesthetics.

bonus i'm also giving him monteverde colour changing inks so he can play silly lil tricks >:)

jigen gets this Kaweco sport piston filler - it's sleek and stylish and solid metal and the little clear ink viewing segment sorta puts me in mind of his usual outfit colour palettes.

im assigning goemon a calligraphy brush. its just what he is thats that

fujiko gets the bungubox princess kaguya fountain pen - it is pretty and feminine and expensive, soooo fujikocore

zenigata i feel would have/be something so so practical. pilot metropolitan, or some other good japanese pen brand, i think. plus they come in a lot of colours so i bet he accidentally matches lupin sometimes just on instinct.

whee it's been awhile since i did a blorbo pen headcanon round!!! that was fun!!!! yippee!!

[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 7 - Hardly Missed

Factchecker sighed in frustration. They were hunched over the draft of the current issue of Pyrrhia Times. The scroll was nearly unintelligible with long greenish-black streaks blotting out most of the text, and neat talonwriting filling out the rest of the blank space on the scroll.

I work with a bunch of bird-brained idiots.

The sun had long set, the scroll in front of Factchecker illuminated by a flickering candle that had nearly burnt through all of its wax. As director, it was their job to finalize every issue of Pyrrhia Times before it got sent out to every corner of the continent.

Factchecker was always dumbfounded with how horrible his staff was at spelling. Even after having passed through Beryl’s stone-cold editing, Factchecker would feel ashamed if this version of the newspaper ever saw the light of day.

Their ears flicked to the doorway, hearing an approaching raucous of dragons. And here they come.

“Factcheckerrrr, come have a few drinks with us at the tavern.” A cream-coloured SandWing with shining green eyes called from the doorway.

When they turned to glance at Emerald, she immediately opened her mouth again before Factchecker could protest. “Don’t make us drag you out of here by your tail, you’ve been shut in this room since sun-high.”

They rolled their eyes, “well, if someone had spelled their words properly, I might have had the time for a couple drinks.”

“Nuh-uh, you’re coming with us whether you want to or not.” Emerald stepped into the room, her fore-arms and talons completely stained by the ink they used, she had even managed to stain the tip of her barbed tail. “That’s the price you pay for art!” She’d exclaim after anyone would ask her about the stains.

Beryl stepped into the room after her, her talons in stark contrast to Emerald's, with barely any staining. “Your scrolls aren’t going anywhere.” She said sternly, making Factchecker’s wingtips flush with heat. “Come on, have a drink. Your back is gonna appreciate the break from being hunched over at your desk nearly all day.”

The dim lighting of the room didn’t do Beryl’s glittering scales justice, in the sunlight her scales reminded them of a pink sunset reflecting off a snowy landscape. They quickly looked away from Beryl and back down to their scroll, the flush in their wingtips spreading.

Factchecker couldn’t say no to Beryl, so they wiped their talons clean on a green-stained cloth and placed a weight at the bottom of the scroll, making sure it wouldn’t curl up and smudge their fresh corrections.

“Alright, alright. Just a few for me though, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning.” They agreed begrudgingly.

“Slag is going to be soooo jealous that we managed to convince you to come drink with us.” Emerald snickered.

“He’s probably stuck in some Queen’s dungeon, again.” Beryl added with an eye-roll.

They might be idiots, but they’re my idiots. Factchecker thought fondly.

They made their way through the streets of Sanctuary, passing all number of colourful faces on their way to the tavern. After the war, Sanctuary became a refuge for dragons of all tribes, as well as hybrids, seeking a home when they found themselves without one.

Factchecker enjoyed the organized chaos of Sanctuary, with its mismatched architecture and dragons from all walks of life. It was a stark difference from the brutalist volcanic island he had spent the majority of his life on.

They trotted behind Beryl and Emerald, who were chatting enigmatically. Factchecker could admit that they were happy to be accompanying them, they had never been great at holding conversations, but it felt nice to be included even if they were just listening along.

They walked down the twisting path that led to the tavern. It was a bit of a ways off the main road, insulated in the forest’s trees to keep the rowdy sounds at bay. Emerald and Beryl didn’t hesitate to plunge through the doors, Factchecker quickly following them in.

The tavern was already full of the usual crowd, but there were always some new faces to see. The group looked around trying to find an empty table to seat themselves. After shuffling through the crowd they plopped down at a table towards the back of the tavern.

A waiter was quickly at their table, a grumpy looking SandWing with a crack running down one of his horns, splitting it in two points. “What’ll it be.” He asked.

“Three ales please, OH and some roasted scorpions please!” Emerald replied in a singsong voice.

Factchecker and Beryl both scrunched up their noses in disgust. “What? A girl can’t enjoy her favourite snack?” She protested.

“You know I find your food choices... Disturbing” Beryl expressed. “Just promise to eat them quickly, I hate when they stare at me with their lifeless little eyes.”

“Anything else?” the waiter asked, not amused.

Emerald and Beryl both glanced at Factchecker, who returned their glaces with a quick shake of the head.

“Nope, we’re good.” Replied Emerald.

The waiter stalked off to another table and Factchecker’s friends quickly fell back into conversation. Factchecker half listened while they watched the happenings of the tavern. Their favourite part of visiting the tavern was never the drinks, it was getting to observe other dragons, from tribes all over Pyrrhia, mingle and socialize. Factchecker often dreamed of a world where more towns like sanctuary existed, but change was slow.

Their focus settled on the table across from them, underneath one of the tavern’s many windows. Seated at the table was a white and charcoal coloured dragon with a nasty purple scar trailing down their throat, a small red and black dragon with spectacles sitting on top of their snout, and a vibrant green dragon with red frills running down their body.

Are those... antenna? Factchecker narrowed their eyes to look closer at the green dragon.

“Have you heard about the SeaWing Prince? They’re saying he was murdered, and the SeaWings are blaming the MudWings.” Their focus now fully on the colourful table, Factchecker eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Which Prince? Aren’t there like thirty of them?” The charcoal dragon asked.

“Doesn’t really matter which one it was. The moons know that MudWings and SeaWings already hated each other, and now they’ll have even more excuses too.” The spectacled dragon continued.

“Uhhrgg.” The green dragon groaned. “Dragons are so dumb.”

Factchecker was startled out of his concentration as a plate with several skewered scorpions slammed down on the table in front of him. Emerald let out a squeal of delight and picked up the skewer, quickly plucking the scorpions off one by one with her teeth.

Beryl placed a hand over her eyes. “The poor souls.”

Quickly following the roasted scorpions, three ales were dropped off at their table, foam spilling over the edges of the wooden cups. Factchecker took a sip of the foam, trying to stop more from dripping down.

“So, what were you eavesdropping on?” Emerald interrupted, making a big glob of foam fall down onto the table.

My favourite part. They thought wistfully. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just happened to hear their conversation.”

“You looked pretty laser focused on what they were talking about.” Teased Beryl.

“Okay, maybe I was.” Factchecker sighed. “Something about a SeaWing Prince getting murdered.”

“OOOOOooooo!” Emerald exclaimed excitedly, clasping her talons together. “We haven’t had a story that juicy in AGES!”

“I’m sure that’s what Slag’s got himself wrapped up in now.” Beryl said. “He can’t seem to keep his talons out of trouble.”

Their table erupted in laughter as they started recounting all the times Slag had gotten locked up in dungeons, eventually needing to be rescued by them.

<|>

Read it on Archives of Our Own

[izanori]

ok fine i give up. i didnt want to do this, but i got hungry (<- weak-willed) (pic is unrelated, but its eye-catching and i like to look at it. her face brings me such peace)

its juneteenth! and to celebrate this day, wont you consider giving me 🙋🏾‍♂️ money? for many reasons that are just too much to explain, im super broke and food insecure… and i have other worries, but lets focus on food for now!

my cashapp is $chris8291, and this is my ko-fi (which is basically my paypal. i dont want to link directly to my paypal😅). using my ko-fi, you could possibly get a drawing out of this - or if you know of a short text or comic in japanese you want translated (just translated, not edited to have english text which is a different thing) you can dm me about it and ill see if i can help you quickly as well.

and under the cut i’ll explain what reparations are for, since i know many have people no clue

suppp

i know it may seem greedy. why ask for money 150+ years after the fact? but heres the deal: thats not even a long time. thats like, what, 3-4 lifetimes ago? and generational wealth is a thing. parents and grandparents buy things or pay for things for their children, and that makes their life easier and makes it easier for them to stack their paper.

now, after the civil war, the enslaved people were set free alright…. with no help, no money, no land, no nothing. reconstruction failed, and hundreds of thousands of people were left to start their lives with literally nothing to their name.

but heres the kicker! those people generated soooo much wealth for their masters, and this country. america was built on slavery! we were able to export so many goods due to slave labor, and thats why many european countries were on the south’s side during the war (but didnt very openly support the south because they were so cringe i think - but thats besides the point)

so. african-americans made this country wealthy. and yet, we kept NONE of that wealth. that money went to rich (largely white) landowners. since we had to start at the bottom even if the work we put in makes it so that never should have been the case, thats why people argue in favor of reparations. and thats why, as a very very small part of being an ally, especially if you are a white american who isnt struggling, you should give me $3. the end

(also p.s. this has been done before lol)

[fallenclan]

I humbly approach with ruminations on Scorch/Ivy/Nettles,, (they've plagued me since the ask game a couple weeks ago,, the ot3 of all time perhaps)

Obviously Scorchstar and Nettlestem stay together I'm Starclan. It isn't...quite right, there's a tense element to their relationship that can't quite pass, but they've been hurt and they need eachother, and over the moons they come back together.

Ivy telling them about being Otterslips mother is sort of where their relationship starts. It isn't quick, but Ivy and Scorch seem to have this...mutual understanding, the ability to forgive themselves for their mistakes when they're around eachother, to talk through their decisions without judgement. Obviously that makes Nettle happy, and she's more than willing to sit by while the two of them talk, and eventually she starts talking too, and before they know it Ivy is slipping into their nest alongside them, a very welcome edition.

All three of them welcome Stormsight, when he appears. It gets rocky, each of them internally warring with everything going on with their son...but ultimately they stay together, as always, and they watch over him together, as always. Even when they were apart, they looked after Otterslip together, and I don't think they would ever stop either.

I like to Imagine it was Nettle who asked Ivy to date them, in the end. I think Scorch, for all her badass old woman-ness, is the sort of person to shy away from that sort of conversation, especially with someone she already values. Anyway Scorched IvyNettles is my fav fallen ship i love them soooo much <3

-🧶 (BTW I am looking into your autism eyes with my autism eyes and gripping your shoulders and saying GOOD FOR YOU FOR TAKING IT SLOWER!!!! You could literally take a ten year break and only come back to post a shoddy meme and I'd clap for you like you'd reinvented the wheel I'm being 100% serious. Take as long as you need, you already spoil us so much with updates every other day!!)

OHHH scorchivynettle.... its such an underrated ship i think. perhaps in another world Ivy would have made a really good mediator, and they all would have had big roles in the clan together. thinking about them <3

[chanderlona]

soooo i feel like posting a new little edit i did AND one thats been like, months ago lmfaoaoao

if you know me on instagram for a while, i have a headcanon where Captain Ice is actually a Xylitolian !!!! she was basically sent to space (eventually her uhm, pod or something idk, landed on earthbread) when she's 6 yo physically. thus her real name is Xylitol Ice Cookie wooohooo

uhhhhh also after a lot of reconsidering...... where she was created by Xylitol Nova's own hands in his lab... you could consider she's XN's biological daughther!!!!! (considering my notice on Dark Enchantress created Matcha and people seeing them as biologically related :333)

btw btw XN had her living with him for more than a year.... sobs...

the reason she was sent out to space its bcs the whole planet had like uhhh massive political problems in their goverment (XN was only in his 20's and he's afraid he cannot keep Ice safe 😭😭😭😭😭)

uhm btw regardless of the seemingly popular headcannon of XN was the one who created Planet Xylitol.... i have my own headcanons depicting the Nova Cookies as a whole. maybe i'll tell y'all one day on another post cause idk how long itll be alone 💔🙏🏻

AH ANYWAYSSS she was also like, she purposely was made to temporary forgot her life in Planet Xylitol, her origin, basically everything. XN wanted her to live a normal life if she even landed on a liveable place (which she diddd). but once she does starts to remember it via memory triggering or something, she'll eventually fully remembers it all like she used to, as well as having her pupils slightly changed. (and yes, another headcanon. all of the Xylitolian residents have those unique looking pupils—actually, all cookies who live in different Sugar Substitute Planets will have a different pupil one way or another !!! (i really REALLY hope this could be canon somehow... we'll see when the next space update rolls 🙏🏻🙏🏻))

i'm also, upset that the devs didnt decide to give them those cool pupils and give them basic ones instead, like, they're basically ALIEN COOKIES you just gotta give em a little kick..... so these are the edits i made a while back depicting on the headcanon !!!! (Xylitol Grey Cookie's pupils is quite hard to notice in this edit but she has it too!)

gosh they did them awfully in this part besides from the cool story and all 😭😭😭😭😭😭

WAIT WAIT ALSOOOO since both XN and XyL-Q sees eachother as family, i decide SIKEEE XN created XyL-Q because Ice wanted a lil brother robot.... /vvvvpos

once they're reunited they'll do silly sibling shenanigans HEHEHHEHEKEHHEHE

god i love sharing headcanons i WILL do more in the future /vvvvpos ‼️‼️💞💞🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[ruikeremi]

"Ignored Blessing" (1/?)

since im bored ill put lore here :3 oh and the numbers are not errors i put it there on purpose, the story will be confusing but trust the process, i don't wanna reveal the true plot yet soooo i might double post

Harem x Reader

Warnings: Derealization

you always thought of yourself as an average person you don't know a lot of people you have a few friends and you have a job at a cafe shop you loved working there since the smell of coffee always relaxes you. You barely remember the events in your high school since it had been a long time since the last time you talked to any of your friends

You dont even remember if you even went to high school you barely remember your past too its like you just woke up and exist its strange all you remembered was a few friends from your childhood but you dont remember any person in your past that isnt related to them

You felt like you know nothing else in the past and only the present memories you have now

you woke up, what day was it? it was strange you were just dozing off and then you were back where you were, you shrug it off as just your imagination there was no way that was possible you thought it was just a dream you stood up from your bed getting ready for the day as you did you look down at your hands and squinting your eyes

am i real?

you start to look around you, you lived alone since you moved out of your parents house...parents? you don't remember their faces or names where was your home town? you don't remember...what was your favorite fruit? color? how old where you? you look down at your clothes, you wear the same clothes everyday but strangely enough you don't smell, did you even sleep last night? it feels like your repeating what you do everyday you just now noticed that, how come?

Nothing feels...real everything looked the same you wake up get ready for the day go to work and go home over and over again you were like programed to repeat the same things everyday when was the last time you didn't just go to work? you never remember having any fun it was like...you were a NPC

you look at your hands again your vision slowly getting blurry as you drag your legs to your room, you plop down your bed and close your eyes, you sigh your eyes slowly closing again as you slowly fall asleep you realized-

01010011 01110100 01101111 01110000 00100000 01110001 01110101 01100101 01110011 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111

looking at his paper, his room messy with papers around his room it was a messy scene as he sat on the floor staring at the blank paper thats writing on its own, he stared at the paper with shock the letter was writing on its own he shakily took the chair that he had threw earlier that was still in tact he stared at the paper

he blinked the character he wrote that he had already forgotten about was questioning its own existence it was a bizarre his gaze went from fear to interest. He slowly lift the paper stops writing on its own he blinked raising a brow, strange.

he put it back down and then its starts to write on its own again he instead starts to read what its doing, it was questioning its own life, he thought that he had threw away this one, it wasn't getting as popular as the other things he made so it was useless to keep it around any longer.

he picked up the paper once more and it stopped writing again. He carefully put it on his pocket and starts to clean up his room, after all he had more important things to write than focus on the one he threw away it was irrelevant now.

AAAAAAA i hope you guys liked it im not that good with writing and plots, this ones short so ill make the other part longer, i type slower at my computer soooo have a nice day/night

And for those whos waiting for the diamond reader x sagau it will come around soon please have patience with me T^T i get really random idea in my head so i cant really focus on one thing-

Edit: Reading this in my phone is actually very small, i have to make the part 2 longer

[lunarifie]

Hi can we remember that characters are Multi-faceted

Rant based on the atsv fandom. I promise I’m not seething. This is very dramatized and my mood will change the next day. Don’t take this seriously.

Edit: I was right, its been 5 minutes and the agony is over. I have found fun funny people.

(VERY minor spoilers. More under cut)

- I am soooo disappointed in the early fandom of spider-verse right now. Maybe its because Ive been hanging around Tiktok when I really shouldnt, because its MOSTLY them with the bad takes but WHY are they SO bad.

- Im just going to start with the controversy with Gwen. Because thats happening for some reason.

- All over tiktok people are treating her as irredeemable and undeserving of Miles, as if she hadn’t gone out of her way to see him even though she wasnt allowed to. Even though the writers gave her a conflict with her father that was supposed to pull the audiences heart strings.

- Its as if people can’t see characters as anything more than one-dimensional. I appreciated every character in spider-verse because they were all so multi-faceted with their own flaws, positives, and motives.

- It just irks me to see people put down Gwen simply because she was slightly stand-offish with Miles. She had so much going on and it made SENSE for her to not want to risk everything she was given. The gift of traveling dimensions, of being safe from her father and to make friends that understand.

- Branching from Gwen, MIGUEL. I love him, he’s great, his backstory is so unique and explains his motive and character perfectly. Again, he’s multi-faceted, and I appreciate that SO much.

- But why is every fanart on tiktok I see JUST him and how hot he is. I understand, hes hot, and thats fine! Its also great because it gives fans something to talk about other than spoilers. But its the ONLY thing I see. Gwen was practically the second main character other than Miles in this movie. We were introduced to her conflict and then her resolution.

- Why not talk about Peter B. and how he must be feeling with Miles in danger?

- Why is Miguels hotness talked and drawn more than that, more than the PLOT. On tiktok AND tumblr. And I can bet that if I check instagram it’d be the same.

- Secondly, the love triangle. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that there was relief at how there was no true love triangle. The spiderverse characters did so well in making romance a component but not the main focus. So why are some fans trying to FORCE a love triangle?

- Examples are: People hating on Gwen, saying she was playing with Mile’s heart by fooling around with Hobie.

- People saying Miles had 100 times more chemistry with Morgo/spider-byte than he ever did with Gwen.

- I love ships, im very big on the fact that people can ship whoever they like as long as its not incest or pedophilia. Im not even the biggest Miles x Gwen shipper. But putting down ANOTHER ship just doesnt sit right with me, especially since its false? The writers are amazing, and they DID amazing at giving Miles and Gwen cute subtle chemistry. All these ship wars just seem like another play at hating Gwen.

- Spiderverse is amazing, and I love that the first movie was a great hit. But it was praised for its story-telling, art, and worldbuilding. The second movie just, isn’t, and I wish it was. Of course, with show and movie fandoms expanding, theres gonna be toxicity introduced. Like this one person who was revulsed by the idea of Gwen being trans, even with her trans pin on her backpack, her protect trans kid flag, and her signature colors.

- Its expected, I just wish it wasn’t.

- Maybe im just on the wrong side of social media, maybe I should wait until I can wedge my way into a spider-verse sub-community fandom I wanna see. Or maybe I just have to wait until this all blows over and then the fandom will revert to character and plot loving. Who knows.

- Im usually not the type of person to be hung over something like this, and I truly don’t think this beginning view of the movie will stick. I promise I don’t hate when people have fun in fandoms.

- Thoughts just needed to be put down and perhaps heard. Soooo if you read all of this, congrats! You have been hit with my very temporary negativity. Don’t let it drag you down! Enjoy the good parts of the fandom as I try to wiggle into those sections!

[expiationist]

Hello there 💖

So I have a few questions for your videos :

Ho long have you been studying Japanese ? What made you want to do it ?

Congratulations for going to Nagoya ! The city is really pretty ! How did you manage to get to go to school there ?

Do you want to get a job in Japan or in another country (related to Japan in a way or another) ?

How do you film your YouTube videos ? What do you use to edit them ?

Sorry if it’s a lot of questions, I really like your account and your videos

Lots of love 💖

@momoxstudies

im so sorry i never got around to making a video from this! i really planned on it, but life got in the way…

(///￣ ￣///)

i have been studying japanese since i was 16, during covid, and i just turned 21 last week! soooo,,, 5 years? holy fuck. ive only been studying in actual classes since i was 18 tho, so about 3 years of actual studying. and i still know essentially nothing <3 i think it was a combination of meeting japanese people online, watching anime, and reading manga. i was super into all that shit from a young age and i initally started learning japanese as a hobby with no intention of ever living in japan or anything, and it just evolved from there. no regerts tho (๑˘︶˘๑)

i got to study abroad at chukyo university in nagoya through my university! they partner w chukyo, so i did an exchange program. i fucking LOVED nagoya and would recommend it to everyone. nagoya gets a lot of hate i think, but i think it is a really great place to live. city vibes, i think there is a decent amount to do, but its not rlly overcrowded or overpopulated like tokyo osaka or kyoto. and the more rural areas of gifu/aichi surrounding it are beautiful. overall loved my experience and met some amazing people there.

the ultimate goal is to live in japan later on down the line, but until then, im not really sure what my plans are! i think japan is a beautiful country with a super rich culture and i can definitely see myself settling down/raising kids there, but i am also super career-oriented so i would like to focus on that first. ideally, id like to work for a japanese company with american branches, or work for an american company with branches in japan. something wherre i can go back and forth ! but im also leaving room for any unexpected opportunities when planning my future

i film my youtube videos with my iphone 12 pro max! tho the most recent vid is filmed on my friends tiny camera, which i forgot the name of, as well as one im editing now. i used FCP and capcut to edit! though recently i prefer capcut cuz i hate FCPs new user interface

thank you for all the compliments and interest in my life!! u are the best mwah mwah

[stormblessed95]

Heya Storm,

here's the one that suggested you No. 6. I'm really happy you like the anime.😊 I love the story and it's one of the few mangas I own. I'd love to watch a sequel to see how the characters evolve and how the city develolps. Unfortunately, since hardly anyone of my friends or familiy is interested in anime/manga, I'm particulary pleased. So if you want someone else to talk about, I'm really happy to be the one. By the way... do you know Uragiri wa Boku? 😅 And wich of the other proposed animes do you already know? Do you plan to watch one of the others?

Anyway, i finally had some time to catch up since I joined tumblr (by the way, I joined because i looked for others who love BTS and Jikook as I do and stumbled about one of your posts. Thank you for that! Your masterlist is georgeous and helped me a lot as baby army but it is soooo much. 😍🥲) and was shocked and sad how toxic my timeline has become. I'm so sorry you're being attacked and I feel I didn't/couldn't support you and other bloggers. I am sorry for that and try to be a better person next time.😓 I think you doing amazing. I really enjoy every one of your posts, especially those that are long, and I can't understand at all how someone can blame you for anti-behavior or somthing like that. All I see is how much you love BTS (and books/animes). Your posts about the diffrent albums are also great, I really hope you will do it in the future too. In general - I really miss reading your point of view about current events, etc. so much that it surprised me. Of course I unterstand what led you retreat and I think you're very strong that you post again. It hurts me that tumblr is no longer a safe place for you and I hope so much that this will change again some day or that you may find another good platform (if so, please take me with you🥺). I'm glad you have your family and wonderful friends.

I've been thinking a long time about whether to send this message at all. After some of your posts, I feel that I really don't have the right to do so and I shouldn't bother you. Finally I will send it to you, because I'm really happy you like No. 6 and I want to recommend Uragiri. Feel free to ignore the other part. Furthermore, I just want to apologize and wish you all the best. Sorry for my long message, please answer only if you have the time and desire. Not important if its here or as a DM. I would love any answer.

I hope you could enjoy Yoongis concert and/or can (re-)watch it next weekend.

Have a nice day/evening/night - Lyn

Hi Lyn! Thanks for reaching out. I appreciate your kind words. Thank you so much 💜 I'll DM you after posting this so that my DMs will be open to you there as well to continue to talk books/anime if you want! And thank you for the rec for No 6! I loved it! And I recommended it immediately to another friend, who I force her and her fiance to watch everything I like 🤣

(literally I message her edits of animes to convince them to watch what I want them too, I've taken over their TV and I'm not sorry 🤣. Z, when you read this, know im waiting for yall to tell me which anime ive mentioned you are watching next!)

I've added all the ones you rec'd in the comments that I haven't seen yet (and now also Uragiri!) To my crunchylist to watch! I'm just blind faith trusting you (and other people who've messaged me/commented) lol on these recs so we shall see how it all goes!!

As for what I've seen so far? Here is my list:

- Attack on Titans (watched through Season 2 then DNF, too much graphic gore and blood and it scared me, im a wimp lol)

- Ouran High School Host Club (cute but sooo tropey lol)

- Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood (LOVED)

- Demon Slayer (LOVED - but haven't seen season 3 yet because I watch with my husband and I have to wait for him to be home for us to watch together)

- Yuri On Ice (LOVED)

- Your Name (made me cry!)

- Naruto (amazing)

- Naruto Shippuden (LOVED)

- Sasaki and Miyano (so cute I died)

- Buddy Daddies (tons of fun!)

- Yakuza's Guide to Babysitting (cute!)

- Haikyuu!! (Love!)

- The Ice Guy and his Cool Female Colleague (cute and fun, but kinda bored lol)

- Sk8 the Infinity (LOVED)

- A Silent Voice (sad but great)

- No. 6 (sooo good, so interesting, I want more)

- Given (love it, so cute)

- Hunter x Hunter (In Progress. I'm like 40 eps in and Watching with husband)

I have read the Manga for Yona of the Dawn, Spy x Family, Inuyasha and Haikyuu too. And I've read the first volume of the Manga for The Case Study of Vanitas so far! And for my birthday I got the entire Demon Slayer Manga box set so I'm excited to read those soon!!

[gontagokuhara]

OKAY I FORGOR💀 TO MENTION THIS actually idk if I already said this but I LOVE the way you write kokichi? Like kokichi's jesterism clowncore energy is not talked about enough in this fandom, he's not just a lying troll, he can also be a corny little canned-bit filled jokester! He can be your angle! Or yuor devil! But he and Kaede give off such an "annoying little brother"/"exhausted oldest sister" vibe in pointy objects it never fails to make me laugh and also feel feelings!

Also ngl writing my lil (literally >2k) review gave me the energy to do my writing assignment so thank you for indirectly but also directly contributing to me not failing my class LMFAO

hi hello!! first of all thank u again for ur very sweet comments i keep rereading them . actively working on the next chapter and i reread them like an hour ago <3 also you are so me re: the writing thing literally i am writing this long ass response out as a warm up to getting started on the chapter again I SEE U. solidarity u got this class

as always below the cut because i like to yap (no spoilers butttttttt call it a small hint of what's to come next chapter)

ANYWAY !!! im glad people like that choice <3 his general silliness tends to get lost in canon in the midst of such a heavy fraught situation (where his dumbass is instigating fights constantly......) and so i feel it more natural to have it bleed into him in pointy objects you know? his backpack also offers just unreal opportunities for clownery and i can't help myself. i have issues with a lot of canon/fanon portrayals of kokichi so with him (as i do miu, and kiyo, and kaito, etc) i like to do the classic mogul move yoink & twist. i take character that needs fixer-uppering, mash 'em around like playdoh, and make them mostly the same but......better in my humble opinion. i feel like i do that pretty well with kokichi, and hearing those choices are appreciated makes me very happy <3

in that vein the kaede/kokichi dynamic is SOOOO important its one of my favorites ive worked into pointy objects i think. justice for my real protag kaede BUT her biting the dust so early both robbed canon content of what a friendship between them could look like. but it also gives me LOTS of room to pick up their barbie dolls and make them have good moments together. speaking of pointy objects canon, they arrived at camp within about a year of each other, before a lot of the other mainstay demigods began living there full time. gonta, miu, kaede, maki, and kokichi spent a lot of time as the only ones at camp; kids like kirumi/tenko/himiko/angie/kiyo are all summer-only, and full-timers ryoma, kaito, and kiibo came later (ages 14, 16, and within a few months of sonia giving them a soul [roughly the same stretch of time as ryoma's arrival], respectively).

all that lore TO say: kaede and kokichi grew up together in a lot of really important ways, and the dynamic that developed over the years very much is that exhausted older sister/exhausting little brother who are fiercely and kind of unexpectedly protective over one another. i could go on about all of the early full-time campers' dynamics because there's a lot within those five especially that i've like. developed in my brain? but havent fit into the 170k words 💀 the mind palace of spiderwebbing character relationships is very vast for how much has actually made it into the fic.....but wink wonk we WILL see a taste of it this next chapter

and finally, re edits: i did my one BIG edit fest back in may, and since then there haven't been any major changes. that said, i do reread the prior chapters quite often (checking details to make sure new writing doesn't have any discrepancies, getting myself back in the headspace to write shuuichi's voice, etc) and do occasionally find typos or phrasing or sentence flow i like changed, so i do fix those as i see them. that said, i DO know what you're talking about with chapter 3; that was a chapter i did pretty majorly redo in may, and there was definitely some redundant word use and odd sentence structure i went back and corrected. but i haven't made any changes that drastically alter the contents of the story; not more so than i did back in may, at least!

ok this as always got very long but it was as always very fun to answer!!!! thank you again for all your support MWAH MWAH and im sure we'll make contact again soon enough!!

[cherrysnax]

hope people chill out soon, your take was immaculate and actually the reason I followed you initially bc i am an adult who likes cartoons and little kid shows but also doesn't get in internet fights about them and thinks adults who do are... wild, for lack of a better term..

but!!! now I wanna know about your comic (???maybe its a comic not sure) that you've mentioned, I couldn't find a tag to search but do you mind sharing about it? tysm either way have a good one

hi nonnie!! first of all ty for the well wishes and compliments! i'm sure once all the jokes and the offense die down, people will be relatively normal again... i hope.. lets get into the meat of the ask under the cut

EDIT: this got long so if u just want the basic gist, go to the very end!

soooo my girlfriend @pokemonleague and i decided back in...2018? to make spidersonas due to our love of comics and the movie into the spiderverse, but since we're nerds that totally span out of control. it went from a fan rp with several spider-man themed characters to a completely original concept with new characters, our own setting, power system-- the works. it is about superheroes, so it might not be your thing. okay so first backstory stuff

it used to be called the phillyverse and if u go into the tag u might find some old art, but its all extremely outdated (and bad. im not the bessst artist). after some delegation we decided to start making it a comic (we spent YEARS debating it) and named the project around last year. its uh called Show Your Spine!

I'm the worst at describing things but we have like 3 whole seasons entirely plotted out so I can pull somethin like a pitch together: while the vigilantism is a core aspect, with the main overarching plot being a group of unlikely heroes, old and new banding together to stop their city from being overrun by the mob, supervillains, and other threats. it's really about finding love and community in a city at war and finding the strength to protect and nourish it. all the while unlearning all the shit the last generations have taught us, to stop us from perpetuating the cycle of hate... while also beating the shit outta some baddies

in short its abt cringe-fail women doing cringe-fail things lmaoo. its a like a superhero-action-soap opera taking place in the retro-futuristic city of Chesire Grove, new jersey.

in this world, there's people with powers called Augments, who are just like you and me but due to changes in their DNA due were born with the ability to manifest different abilities (think mutants or metahumans). the tension between augments and humans is a little.. high right now, but allegedly better than they've ever been before. It's a newish era of human-augment relations, for better or worse.

we have an ensemble cast, and we intend on taking the main characters from the ages of 16 to eventually 25. the characters are aging in real-time.

OKAY PLOT TIME: The first few arcs focus on a delinquent teenage girl, Leo, trying to find a cure for one of her best friends who has fallen ill after trying a new drug, by all means necessary. during her quest for it, she meets the elusive newer vigilante Spitfire, who had saved her once before. Despite a rocky start, the two start a mentor-mentee type thing, in hope that the other can help them find what they're looking for. For Leo, she's looking for info on the man who made the drug that's been killing people, desperate to make him reverse engineer it. For Spitfire, they're looking for Chesire Grove's longest-running protector: Nightingale, who has suddenly gone missing. Spitfire's a bit new in town but lucky for them, the kid knows the city like the back of their hand.

At the same time, a sheltered augment teen's life is changing, as her overly protective father has finally realized that keeping her inside wasn't protecting her at all. freshly enrolled in a school for STEM students, Bobbi (also known by his nickname Retro) has to learn how to navigate the world for the first time and solve the full mystery of her past, all while her powers are on the fritz.

there's so much to this world, and we're so excited to share it with everyone!! i tried to be pretty vague cause of spoilers, and like i said, bad with words

[not-actually-human]

hmmmmm who are your ocs?

hi lex!!

aghhhh okay now youve got me started :DD im gonna describe the world they live in a bit and then go into a brief description of each character

so the world they live in is very much inspired by classic dnd world. i do not know how else to describe it soooo. anyways the main kingdom is called the kingdom of the lost ones because it is known for not having a direct bloodline of succession. like the rulers children do not tend to take over the throne. so its often lower class people who take the throne, either scholars or soldiers or something like that, people who have the populations respect. also there is a group of necromancers who live in the forest and are a fun found family!

now for the characters!!

jeannemarie-47 she/her

she is one of the queens of the kingdom. she is married to reina. they have both been queens for about five years, since the precious ruler died and named reina his successor. jeannemarie is a magic user, and specializes with healing and light magic. she has a brother named beatrice

reina-49 she/her

reina is the other queen of the kingdom. she is a former general, and that is how she rose in ranks and grew to be respected enough to be named successor to the throne. she is a very calm and strong presence and the people love her.

corinne-17 they/them

corinne is the prince of the kingdom and their moms are the queens. they are very creative and energetic and charismatic, but kind of resent being royalty, since theyre not used to it at all. they spend most of their time out of castle. they use a cane. they were found on a battlefield as a baby by reina and adopted by reina and jeannemarie.

beatrice-39-she/he

beatrice is jeannemaries younger brother. she is the leader of a group of necromancers that live in the forest near the kingdom. he was the primary caretaker of jaymie as jaymie was growing up. she loves her sister a lot and they have a very close relationship. he is also a magic user, but unlike her sister, she is a necromancer. he has a prosthetic arm made out of a reanimated skeleton arm.

jaymie-16 he/him

jaymie was found in the middle of the forest as an infant by the group of necromancers. they all kind of adopted him, but his primary parent would be beatrice. he loves plants and nature a lot. his family all thought he didnt have magic for the longest time (magic takes a bit to manifest in this world and he was a late bloomer even by those standards) and they were all chill with that. but then one day he started doing nature and healing magic. so beatrice was like ‘hey do you want to go live with my sister for a bit because she knows a lot more about this stuff then any of us do’

anyways thats the basic premise of the characters and setting! sorry it got so long lol, and thank you for the ask!

edit: oh also if you want to see art or see more about the characters, the tag on my blog is “the kingdom of the lost ones”