#idk i love this girl so much

[hellafluff]

OH OKAY. I get Rainbow High dolls now! I fuckin get it!!!!

[jazforthesoul]

every time someone reduces CAPTAIN !!! elizabeth "lizzie" lafayette down to "a sad lesbian" a fairy dies bc i shoot it with my gun. like you're telling me you were spoon-fed a character that has one of the most realistic and RAW representations of grief and perseverance in the series and all you got from that was "she's sad" ????

is she a constantly happy character? Fuck no! that's acknowledged!! but to take EVERYTHING that she is, which has positive and negative aspects THAT ARE BOTH SHOWN, to take the fact that she is THE DRIVING FORCE OF THE MAIN BACKGROUND PLOT, and reduce her down to NOTHING but her relationships?? ?what the hell!!!

[daphnalia]

and they were galpals

[choccy-milky]

clora with @lamieboo's dahlia💛🩵 i had to draw them together as soon as i saw dahlia was yellow and blue, bc their colour schemes are kinda the same, just inverted (and u all know how i love my opposites LMAO)

[heartscrypt]

they're girlfriends and they kiss. what of it

[def-not-kaz-brekker]

I hate it when people don’t take aromanticism seriously. I hate it when they say “oh it’s just a phase I also thought I was aromantic but then I got a partner.” It doesn’t apply to everyone.

Respect aromanticism as you would respect any other identity

[lynnbutlertron]

its real Kahlopatra hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[lionbearfox]

shes helping him conduct interviews :)

[habken]

(polyfam au)

masaru being the only dad 🤝 fuyumi being the only daughter

toga 🤝 masaru 🤝 fuyumi

masaru has two hands 🙏🙏

[lost-in-fandoms]

Got caught up in my feelings last night and kept thinking about this until I was able to write it down.

Max's fingers moved deftly on Nicky's hair, braiding the long strands while reading out loud. It was a new book, something about a witch and a fairy being best friends and going on adventures, both of them endearingly invested in it.

Daniel took his place to the side of the door, leaning against the wall, eyes trained on the pair, as they both looked up to smile at him before going back to their story.

Max didn't do voices when reading books, he never had. At first Daniel had complained, sure that their daughter would only pay attention if he kept the reading as silly as possible, but then Max had started the new bedtime routine of braids and books. There was something in the way his voice changed over the dialogue, in the weird cadence of his, in his gentle rasp, that kept Nicky completely entranced in a way Daniel had never been able to replicate.

That and the hair styling. For some reason, whenever Daniel was the one to deal with elastics and bows and hairbrushes, things always turned out either wonky or tear stained or both. He had felt bad about it, felt like he was failing her, until Max had pointed out that he always struggled with getting her to finish all her food, and that if it had been up to him they'd be eating soup and various charred vegetables every night, and Daniel had felt better.

Max always knew how to make Daniel feel better.

"Page," Max said, pausing his reading to allow Nicky to turn the page, tying the braid off with a yellow elastic and tugging her closer against his chest, moving the hairbrush out of the way. They were almost at the end of the chapter, and Daniel smiled, knowing what was coming.

As expected, even before Max was all the way through the last page, Nicky started squirming, twisting to glance up at him, big eyes already pleading, but Max steadily finished reading and reached for the bookmark she was holding anyway.

"No, papa, please! One more?"

It was always the same. Max would finish doing her hair, finish their chapter and then she would beg for more. Honestly, Daniel couldn't blame her, not when he too would have liked to be sitting against Max's chest, listening to his voice.

"We had two already, because the other one was short," Max replied, kind but firm. He closed the book, pushing it to the side, then turned Nicky around so they could sit face to face, her little crossed legs bracketed by his spread ones.

Nicky was still pouting, but she had learned soon enough that there was no bargaining with papa. Not that Max didn't treat her like a princess and spoil her rotten, but he had rules, and rules were followed. Most of the time.

"So, what do you say?" Max asked, offering the book back to Nicky for her to hold, because just like Daniel she struggled to keep her thoughts straight if her hands were free.

Max had told Daniel once that this part was important for Nicky's development. That getting to talk through her ideas, offering opinions, making hypothesis for what was to come was good for the brain.

Daniel didn't doubt it, but he suspected that Max just liked to talk to her. Both their eyes were bright as they discussed what they had just read, Nicky bouncing slightly on the bed, unable to sit still, Max's hands moving in the air. Daniel loved them both so much.

When they were done, Max put the book down on Nicky's bedside table, turning on her ladybug nightlight and the lamp next to it, just as Daniel turned off the big light, leaving the bedroom bathed in warm shadows.

"What are you going to dream about tonight?" Max asked, tucking Nicky in and placing a kiss on her head.

"I will be a mermaid and I will find a big treasure!"

She was already clutching Bissit, her stuffed bunny, his name an unfortunate attempt of a toddler to pronounce Biscuit, and one of his ears ended up in her mouth as soon as she was done talking.

Max gently pulled it out, kissing her cheek as a distraction.

"Will I get some?"

"You will get one coin!" Nicky replied, giggling at her own mischief. Daniel could feel his own smile grow wider at the mere sound of it and Max's fake-offended face could not hide his fondness either.

"Just one?! What about daddy?" he asked, pointing at Daniel as if he was the culprit for the bad treasure sharing.

"Daddy will get..." Nicky paused, brows furrowed as she tried to think of a big enough number, "seventy-five!"

Daniel whooped as Max gasped in fake outrage, poking Nicky's tummy through the covers in retaliation, her delighted laughter filling the room.

Max sighed in mock resignation as Nicky quietened again, hand cupping her head gently.

"Will I at least get a good night?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Good night," Nicky readily said, poking one hand out of the covers to grab his free one and bring it up to her lips, smacking a big wet kiss on it.

"Good night, liefje." Max gave her one last kiss before getting up, leaving an empty spot on her side, and Daniel knew that was his cue. Reading time was Max's special time with Nicky, but Daniel always got the last good night.

He kissed Nicky's forehead, one cheek, then the other, then the tip of her nose, listening to her giggles.

"I love you so much, baby," he told her, because he could never stop himself from telling her a million times a day. He was dreading the day she was going to become a prickly teenager and fight him over it. He hoped she never did.

"I love you too, daddy" she said back, because she was four and she still said it back every time.

He stayed with her a little longer, petting her hair, one of the very rare times during the day they could both be still and quiet, but when her eyes had stopped drooping and stayed fully closed, he turned the lamp off and went to look for Max.

He found him in the living room, slowly folding the laundry Daniel had abandoned earlier.

"I would have gone back to it," Daniel said just to say it. They both knew he was never able to get through all the laundry without getting distracted.

"No, you would not," Max replied placidly, not even looking up at him, poking through the pile to find the sock matching the one he was holding.

"No, I wouldn't have," Daniel acquiesced, sitting down on the couch behind him, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Max's shoulders.

Max paused his search to tilt his head back, eyes squinting into a smile as he accepted Daniel's kiss.

"I love you," Daniel told him, because his inability to hold it back wasn't limited to their daughter.

"I love you too," Max replied, because he was thirty-four and still said it back every time.

[hakunoknight]

haven’t done a bug hornet reference in forever so did a quick one. colors not final.

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

[sweetkiitsunez]

Spoilers warning in CHP 6 of Foras

Not related to writers blogs一

I feel like a Shoujo girl all the sudden because I'm kicking my legs and screaming. SO YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT 一 HE FALLS IN WITH US?! AAAAAAA一

[pactw]

fit & pac "dates that have been abandoned to go help/comfort an actively-panicking friend" count is now at either 3 or 4, with what happened to poor sweet ironmouse today

i love how much they love their friends, it's so important to me. they're babysitting empanada. i'm going to cry at how cute it all i

[zeddyzifan]

PLEASE WITNESS MY BEAUTIFUL STONE SKETCH IT TOOK A WHILE (more like 4 minutes but um) ITS CUTE.