#inb4 the wrap-up

[meowww-ffxiv]

Dawntrail spoilers.

Following up on the other post.

Liios and the twins.

.

After the events in Living Memory wrapped up, Liios spent approximately two weeks not leaving his room.

He didn't do it against his will or anything, but the fact that he fainted after fighting Zoraal Ja scared him more than it scared anyone else, honestly. And his friends were rather comforted by the fact that he wasn't japing around doing bullshit (inb4 he did WORSE by fighting in the Arcadion but whatever), so no one said anything to Liios.

They were used to his moods by now, whenever he felt like shit. He didn't talk to them, and if they tried to make him talk, he would grow truly angry and say something both parties would regret. Estinien visited, and Y'shtola who didn't give a shit about Liios's tantrums visited, and Ptolemy visited. That was it.

Alphinaud and Alisaie didn't come by for a week and a half. Mostly because neither of them knew what to say. At least, nothing that wouldn't sound like a borderline accusation.

Liios notoriously never said shit to them about his health. They found out when either, (a) he keeled over or (b) he dragged himself back from whatever he got into half-dead, blood gushing out of his gullet as he tried to say something like, "You should've seen the other guy."

And this was no different. It really wasn't. But it was the third fucking time it happened, and at this point Alisaie really would just call Liios selfish.

She almost did. But his asking her if she and the others were really strong enough to fight their enemies without him and still incur no permanent injury or loss, and her being unable to answer it because she honestly didn't know, rattled her. It rattled Alphinaud too, because that was... It was the truth. None of the Scions knew for certain if Liios not being there wouldn't have made a decisive difference.

His was not just martial might. Even if a problem existed and the Scions each worked their part to figure it out, he was still the one to propose the final solution and oftentimes the one who had to implement the final step. They relied on Liios for anything related to technology or complex, engineer-level aetherology. But most of all, they relied on him to smile and say, "Very well. This is doable. We can wager on these odds."

...They relied on him to say, specifically, "I can do this."

To all of Alisaie's anger and Alphinaud's offense, Liios had only replied, "I cannot back down because I am your Warrior of Light."

And it made them wonder if they were the ones who had done this to him. Not the Lightwardens, and not the Endsinger, and not the empire or all the enemies they had faced. But them. Alphinaud and Alisaie. And the Scions.

Not that they could say that to him because they already knew how that conversation would go. Liios would smile his quizzical smile like what they said didn't make sense to him, why were they worried about this? It wasn't like he was a person, much less their friend. He was the Warrior of Light, was he not? Was that not enough?

[crimsonxe]

FFVII Rebirth spoilers below the cut:

So theory time: Omni-Aerith (as Max dood has dubbed her) = the Aerith that Cloud did save in the branch divide formed in the clash w/ Sephiroth. The one that got to continue growing in power, knowledge, and control as a Cetra to rise to equal or greater than Sephiroth is. Basically she didn't get stopped at Cetra lvl 35 (or whatever the level would've been cause its been a few years since I played OG) but had the time to get all the way to Cetra lvl 99 (or maybe 999 xD). She's the one that pops up in the finale fight of Rebirth; the one that doesn't coddle Cloud with his hero complex choosing to risk telling him to leave things to her instead causing him to have a mental meltdown due to said hero complex being shaken; and will likely ultimately be the one that stops Sephiroth. Even more to this is that because of her arriving for the finale battle showing Seph her potential, which fits with his "I underestimated you." line towards her. It could line up with his motivation to seek her out from across the multiverse to stop any other "Omni-Aeriths" from happening.

This also plays into the checking off boxes idea as a branch version of Aerith did die at Forgotten Capital just like or maybe even is the OG timeline; while also delivering on the Remake's hope, new, bigger, and "fuck fate" ideas via the other branchline that has her living. I firmly stand in the camp of "fuck repeating the same damn 20+ year old story w/ its bad end route"; instead wanting to have a new long-waited for good end route. One that will overall balance things by giving the universe a much needed good ending, alongside not in replacement of the bad end route, w/ a message about "valuing and fighting for life" to go with "acceptance of death as a natural thing" to wrap up the complete story. Rather than a fatalistic half-story that everyone has already seen or can see. Also the idea of Sephiroth merging the worlds means the villain wins, which furthers the fatalism angle. So like truly there would be no aspect of hope or anything outside of "well the world is shit".

inb4 anyone tries to come in with assertions I'm a new fan: I've been following the game since probably 1999 or close to it and have gone through most if not all of the Compilation. I'm also someone that never joined the club that gets a tingle in the pants over Aerith's death or makes it out to be some "has to happen" thing, cause if one actually looks over the story it doesn't actually. I also don't put the darker elements of FF7 as the entire core of it ignoring the other parts. I'm someone that loves the multiverse grandness of Remake-trilogy; someone that has been wanting a good end route for 20+ years; and someone that knows FF7 has more light moments than dark where the light is what kept me in the universe. I'm also someone that thanks to OG FF7 will never kill a substantial character in any creative work I work on, cause fuck that.

Also this goes into a different game from the 99 era comes to mind that also canonically ran with its bad end route in Shadow Hearts. In its sequel that involved a time travel mechanic, it did an incredibly creative thing in also making the good end route canon too in a 2nd run. Namely: Shadow Hearts 1 = canon bad end where the main femme dies due to the male MC not knowing about her fate and as a result of something tied to him -> Shadow Hearts 2: Covenant = the MC from SH1 shutdown after the loss from the first game seeking death but also given a chance to see her briefly again to say share "I love you" then proceeds into the canon good ending that sends the MC back -> Shadow Hearts 1 (2nd run) the MC (and player from a meta perspective) know the bad end (and players have likely have looked up the criteria to get the good end) and while not shown does so to save the main femme this time around. So don't tell me this shit can't be done especially in a dark ass RPG cause Shadow Hearts is DARK af with some of its stuff.

[greatbigbellies]

inb4 pregnant vampire makeouts

btw, which kind of vampire pregnancy do you like the idea of better; the kind where the vampire eventually gives birth to some baby bats, or the kind where they're permapreg?

Being undead doesn't mean you don't have needs...

That's a toughie, uuummmm... I mean I lean permapreg but that's less to do with liking permapreg and more to do with the fact that most of my fantasies wrap up before labor starts so like... if the pregnant vampire births lil bats or even just little human-shaped vampire babies... that's usually happening after the metaphorical credits roll.

Now that said if the bats give more movement in the belly then bats all the way. I wanna feel some fluttering while I rub the bump.

[sharksa-shivers]

🍕🍔🥩🍣🦪🍤🍺🌮Kidnapped food-posting quotes n shiz PART 1🌯🦑🦐🐟🦀🍗🍪🍫🍰

Why not do a themed one? I see no reason not to fsdhfdjshkjfdshdjfs -------------------------------

Kristy:(annoyed)So what??? You're just gonna ignore our mission???

Max:(nods, smirks)Yep, sure am. New mission is getting some lunch. (Hungry)Godddd, that barbecue place smells so good, i could go for some goodass steaks right now…

Sharky:(hungry too)You think maybe we could snag a few? I could really use some food…I'm starved…

Max:(smirks)Hell yeah i bet we can. We got some cash.

Kristy:(annoyed)You two are seriously just gonna listen to and think with your stomachs??? Like really???

Max:(nods, scheming)Yep.

Sharky:(hungry)Honestly yeah. Can't focus really with mine being empty…

Kristy:(annoyed as fuck)Unbelievable!!! I can't believe you 2 are just gonna-!!! (She's cut off by her own stomach growling hungrily, wrapping her arms around herself)Ughhhhh…

Max:(smirking)Maybe you should be listening to yours, seems like it's trying to tell you something…

Kristy:(annoyed)Ughh!!!! Shut up!!!! We need to focus on-

Sharky:(cutting her off)Getting food. Look, nothings gonna get fuckin done with all of us starving so lets get some grilled goods, chow down then we get back to the mission ok? (Looking dead at Kristy)You're always the one lecturing me about self care so…Yknow, maybe we should all do that huh?

Kristy:(annoyed, glares at both of them)….Fine, goddamnit. BUT WE'RE GETTING RIGHT BACK TO THE MISSION AFTE-

Max:(already got a plan to find the place)Yeah yeah yeah, the stupidass mission. Anyway!!!! LET'S GO!!!! -------------------------------

(Max being Max xd)

Max:(hungry, just rambling outloud)Okay but some nachos would be banging right now…And also maybe like something with whipped cream, i'm thinking like a drink but like…Man, i'd eat an entire cherry pie though with whipped cream on it…Root beer float also sounds really fucking good though…Or maybe-!!!

Kristy:(interrupts, annoyed as she's trying to read something on her phone)Is it like actually physically possible for you to go at least 20 minutes without thinking about food? Like can you actually think about things with your brain instead of your stomach or like?

Max:(amused, smirking)Nah, not really. And if i ever manage that, that'd be the time to panic cuz that ain't me heheh…Got a shapeshifter with ya and i'm probably being held captive somewhere…

Kristy:(groans annoyed)Ughhhhhhh…

Max:(defensive, amused still though)Look, i do not know why i'm always hungry, i just know that i am. Gotta have a well fed Max to do the dumbass Trio shit ya need me to do alright? This kinda quality tech and hacking work comes with a price tag and that price tag involves tacos…(hungry, lighting up)God, tacos though, ughhhh, i just want something with some steak…

Kristy:(annoyed, trying to focus on her phone)Please stopppp, this is already so boring to read and you're just distracting me…

Max:(amused, getting his phone out and looking for a taco place now)Alright alright, fineeeee…I'll go get some chow then. I'm starving, i need some food real bad, legit all i can think about right now… ------------------------------- inb4 this one DO NOT DO THIS ONE...DON'T... Not food related but it involves Max eating something ig so...I'm putting here anyway lol

(We see Max and Kristy sitting down in the underground area, resting a bit…Kristy's reading one of her manga's and Max is fucking around with a glowstick…We see Max tapping on the stick and shaking it around…And then he gets a dumbass idea lmao…We see Max take a claw out and saw the top bit of it off, peeling the lidbit off. He chunks it to the side and that's whenever Kristy looks up and notices.)

Kristy:(concerned, worried)Uhhhhh, what the hell are you doing?

Max:(his gaze goes from the blue glowstick to Kristy, smirking)Gonna do some shots if you catch my drift…

Kristy:(immediately tries to stop him)Max, no!!!! It could be dangerous!!!!!!

Max:(scoffs, tapping the stick, amused)Nah, i googled it, not poison so i'll be fine butttttt am curious sooooooo…-(he gazes at Kristy, smirking and then quickly opens his mouth, pouring the liquid in, he lets it sit in his mouth a sec, showing Kristy, trying to talk)Look Kwis, mah mouths glowin!!!

Kristy:(anxious, apprehensive)…….Yeahhhh, i dunno bout this…

Max:(mouth still full of blue glowing chemical, amused)Quit cwyin, is fine!!! Is cool!!!! Now i wanna see tho…(we see Max decide finally to close his mouth and gulp the liquid down, then quickly opening his mouth, now it not glowing, Max immediately being disappointed)Awwwww, fuck!!! Really not glowing anymore????

Kristy:(kinda surprised)…Ok, i actually did think your mouth would still be glowing…

Max:(annoyed)Yeah, same, what a fuckin disappointment…Ughhhhh…(slouches back before looking down at his body, moving his bag and looking at his body)Wait, is my stomach glowing or…? (Looking, annoyed, head smacks back into the wall)No!!! Goddddddd, how boring!!! I was hoping something would glow, like that'd be really cool!!! Damnit!!!!! Ehhhhhhhhh…

Kristy:(staring)Well, like…It still doesn't hurt right or does it or?

Max:(he thinks a second, shrugs)Not reall-(stops a second)……..Orrrrrr…My stomach does kinda tingle a bit now…So might end up getting a stomachache later…God, this wasn't even worth it, how lame…

Kristy:(kinda laughs a bit)Well, least it didn't really hurt you…

Max:(annoyed, sideglances)No but it is lame as hell, ughhh…(reaches into his bag, pulls out another glowstick)…Maybe if i ate a few more?

Kristy:(quickly)Uhhhh, don't we need these for down here?? You probably shouldn't right now, we need to conserve energy!!!

Max:(huffs, annoyed as he chunks another glowstick up and down in his hand)Yeah, yeah, yeah, god, just…Ughhhh… -------------------------------

(Max and Kristy trying to go find a thing or something lol, idk)

(We see the 2 derpos walking around downtown Shellside City, actively looking for a specific place…Andddd then Max veers that shit offroad p damn quick.)

Kristy:(looking at her phone confused then back up at Max)…..Are you sure this is the right way?

Max:(amused, hands in his hoodie pockets)You remember earlier when you were like "You got to listen to your gut sometimes!" ?

Kristy:(confused)Yeah? Why exactly?

Max:(amused)I am fully embracing that advice and my gut right now is telling me that i need some food asap hehehe…

Kristy:(her face falls as she looks back at the map and sees where they're ACTUALLY heading to, a local bar and grill, looking up at Max, pissy)Are you serious???? You were doing this on purpose weren't you?!?!?

Max:(walking backwards some, looking at Kristy, amused)Hey now!! You gave that advice earlier and i for one like to listen to my friends when they give good advice!! If you have an issue with it, then you're gonna need to take it up with my gut cuz uhhhh that's what i'm listening to right now.

Kristy:(glaring, pissed)I can't believe you dude, ughhhhh, holy shit…

Max:(amused, moving back to walking normally)Welp believe it cuz i did do it haha, and i'll do it again at some point. Now that that's out in the open, goddddd, i can't wait to sink my teeth into some bacon cheeseburgers, ahhhhh, holy shit…

Kristy:(glaring at Max still)Here's some new advice for you since you like my points so much: Maybe try and think with your brain instead maybe next time…

Max:(amused)And ignore my stomach?? Kris Kris, i'm sorry but absolutely not. My stomachs always been on my side and has never led me astray, not even once!! So uhhhhh yeah, i think ima keep doing things my way haha!!

Kristy:(glaring, pissed)…You are seriously so fucking insufferable sometimes Max…

Max:(shrugging, amused)Can't argue that one honestly… -------------------------------

(We see Kristy waking up during a rainy night, anxious and scared after a dream, to which, Max tries to help her with…)

Max:(walking into the bunkroom with a container of cookies, he notices Kristy's up and upset, getting her attention, caring)Ey, you ok?

Kristy:(she looks down from her bunk to see Max, wiping tears out of her eyes)Max? What are you doing up?

Max:(plopping his cookie box onto her bunk, climbing up to her and getting comfortable, amused as he grabs his box again)Woke up to pee and then wanted a midnight snack so…(chomps into a sugar cookie before offering the box over to Kristy)Want one?

Kristy:(calming down some since she's not alone now, takes one, lightly)……You always offer me food and stuff when i'm down…Like I've noticed that…

Max:(shoving a cookie into his mouth, smirks)Well yeah. Foods good for ya. Good for the mind, good for the soul and good for your stomach heh…Kinda can't go wrong with it… ------------- Have i mentioned Max is a cryptid who is a bottomless pit and we have no clue why it's not possible really for him to get full except in the most rare of circumstances? That these abilities of his are goddamn supernatural in nature and we have 0 clue wtf is wrong with him? Well i'm mentioning it again lol. That doge will fistfight you over a bag of doritos, do not test him. Next one will have more Sharksty shit and will be more Sharky/Kristy related in general. I'm scaredt ima run out of room sooooo you getting a part 2 lol, hold up. Will link whenever done: https://www.tumblr.com/sharksa-shivers/748263506686722048/kidnapped-food-posting-quotes-n-shiz-part

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

jester began falling in love with caleb in episode 103.

not any earlier in my opinion, and not later, either.

there's two elements to why i believe e103 is the turning point.

(1) the first is caleb's actions and jester's responses to them during the night they all sleep by the waterfall—his support of her idea to sleep underwater, his conversation with her after her commune with artagan, and his casting of programmed illusion in the dome.

(2) the second is the way her behavior toward caleb pivots around e103. before e103 is a noticeably different beast to how she begins to treat him after e103—the attention she pays him, her efforts to hold more standout interactions with him, and a dramatic swell of emotion and thematic meaning in these scenes’ respective subtext.

the rumblecusp arc is the point in which jester’s character growth, and caleb’s efforts to unconditionally support her, really begin to shine. throughout the complex growing pains that jester and artagan's relationship was experiencing, the one person who truly takes a moment to offer her support without any agenda or judgment is caleb.

(e103, 1:22:55, bold mine)

CALEB: You okay over there?

JESTER: (tearful) Yeah, I'm fine. Just—I'm just drawing.

CALEB: Maybe didn't go as well as you were hoping?

JESTER: Um... In some ways it went better. But no.

CALEB: I can't speak for him. But you do have us.

JESTER: I know.

CALEB: So whatever you land on, Jester, we'll make it happen.

JESTER: (shaky laugh) I have to figure out what I want to land on.

CALEB: That is the, uh—sticky wicket, isn't it?

JESTER: Yeah. Everything's confusing.

CALEB: Maybe... Maybe we sleep on it, it'll make more sense in the morning.

JESTER: Yeah. Yeah. Thank you, Caleb.

CALEB: I didn't do anything.

jester confesses that her commune with artagan didn’t provide the answers she was hoping for—that he knew about the curse on the island—and caleb doesn’t remark on what that seems like. he deliberately avoids speculating on why artagan is doing these things because “he can’t speak for him.” he doesn’t assume anything about what she might choose to do and explicitly leaves that choice up to her. jester vents briefly about how difficult the choice is, and caleb offers her reassurance, a reminder that some time will make things clearer. he doesn’t suggest solutions.

unlike fjord or beau, caleb doesn’t ask her to voice outright whether artagan is being a good friend. he doesn’t continually question his character and imply any personal opinions to her or what he thinks she should do. instead, he asks whether she’s okay. he listens. and he offers unconditional support.

this is consistently the stance caleb takes in the rumblecusp arc. and it’s not discussed much, i think, exactly how monumental that was to jester.

(hold on, this is a long one.)

jester is a young woman who grew up sheltered and wants to define herself outside of that shelter. for her, this campaign has essentially been a coming-of-age journey (talks for e76-77, 14:12). she is deeply sensitive to whether or not she’s respected because she’s aware of how her personality and general lack of experience makes others think she’s naive, immature, or incapable (talks for e79, 31:51).

it’s also incredibly evident that her relationship with artagan is unique. in e105 (1:15:01), jester tells the m9, “he really got me through a lot when i was younger, you know? and he was all i had, really.” he was her best friend from childhood in a home where she spent most of her time hidden in a single room. when she was younger, the few times she left the chateau, she was bullied by other girls (e110, 3:34:59). her best friend, though? her best friend was a god. a god with an incredible sense of humor, an aggrandizing attitude, and adoring respect for a young girl in a difficult situation who had as wonderful a personality as him. in every way that matters, artagan’s friendship undoubtedly saved jester’s life.

and she is so, so aware of this. she cares for him deeply, trusts him unconditionally, and is determined to be there for the one person who had been there for her when no one else was, not even her mother.

the renegotiation of this friendship after artagan revealed his full identity was clearly extraordinarily difficult for jester. she was having to reevaluate her entire relationship with the being that pulled her through a childhood of isolation and misery, question his intentions with her and whether they could even remain friends at all. and this was amidst her arrival at a dangerous island with her other friends to help him clean up his mistakes.

asking her to make a judgment on artagan before she’s ready to do it on her own, while managing some high expectations at the same time—not only is it a lot of pressure, it’s frustrating and painful. jester did not want to judge artagan without giving him his fair due and a proper conversation. knowing that her new friends dislike her old friend, besides being hurt by it, distracted her. she had to both defend him outwardly and interrogate him internally. and if she tried to explain how important artagan is to her, a lot of vulnerability would’ve been necessary when she was trying to be a leader and seem competent and capable, instead of a child who needs patronizing guidance.

this latter point is exceptional. because jester lavorre is so vulnerable when it comes to how much she thinks her loved ones respect her and consider her a valuable, equal, and trustworthy individual. and it’s difficult to feel like you’re being valued and trusted when people are repeatedly questioning you about a person and a relationship that they don’t understand in a way that, despite genuine concern, comes across as them doubting your own judgment of one of the most intimate parts of your life.

in this precise moment in e103, caleb is the only person who acknowledges—to her in person, even—that he doesn't have any place in judging her relationship with artagan. that it’s not what she needs from him or anyone else. that he’s content waiting for her to reach a decision. that he will respect that decision.

and jester can believe him. caleb’s done nothing but remain consistent on this stance. he repeatedly supports her choices to run travelercon, trust artagan, and come to his aid.

when other party members question artagan's legitimacy, caleb is the one who almost always speaks up to support jester (some examples: e61, 30:43 / e77, 49:17 / e95, 1:09:17 and 1:15:24).

he actively and enthusiastically offers his magical talents to her to provide for the event preparations. he has a whole conversation with her in e91 (beginning 1:53:41) where he expresses his immense respect for her and her personality, explicitly validates her faith in artagan, and shows her a tangible example of how he wants to help her during the upcoming travelercon. when she suggests some ideas, despite their arguable silliness, caleb takes them at face value and openly admits his lack of expertise in this area (e91, 1:58:35).

when they first arrive at rumblecusp, he directly reassures jester about the ‘travelercon 3000’ banner she leaves on the wrong beach by mentioning that he can make her a new banner (e101, 48:18). once preparations begin in earnest, caleb expends spells very freely, including ones of higher-level, to produce whatever jester requests.

in e103, he hears out her idea of sleeping underwater and gives it equal consideration in spite of other party members trying to shoot it down. the first time she suggests it (36:23), caduceus comments against it and no other party member acknowledges her except for caleb, who agrees with her quietly while the others move on. the second time jester suggests it (46:08), veth comments against it and caleb steps in to openly agree that it’s a good idea, even after fjord and beau join veth in being dubious.

compare these active, consistent moments of support and validation from caleb to similarly active and consistent examples of the other attitudes that manifest during the rumblecusp arc, in contradiction to people’s apparent claims of trust (one such claim of trust: e95, 1:00:21).

plainly insulting artagan to jester as if it’s a given, such as fjord’s “he’s generally full of shit, right?” (e107, 49:42);

fjord, beau, and caduceus’s conversation about “not ruining jester’s big day,” yet distrusting artagan to the extent of planning to keep her from being alone with him, preparing to attack him should he try to sacrifice 200 people for some speculated unknown ritual and/or hurt jester, and discussing all of this behind jester’s back (e108, beginning 15:41);

caduceus’s said shift to distrust of artagan because of a semi-disturbing conversation that jester was equally a part of (e107, beginning 20:40);

and the discussion right before jester’s commune with artagan where beau questions if artagan sent them to rumblecusp knowing of the memory problems, without regard for their well-being (e103, 29:40).

the unfortunate assumption being made by these party members’ repeated questioning and protectiveness of jester is that she cannot be trusted to have good judgment. despite their familiarity with some of the context of her relationship with artagan (especially after e105), they disregard her repeatedly-expressed support of him. they indirectly disrespect her ability to judge for herself whether someone is dangerous to her or her friends. they don’t acknowledge jester’s own role in creating dubious situations and instead direct all their negative feelings and sense of fault to artagan, minimizing her agency.

the e108 conversation is a dense microcosm of how the party perpetrates these assumptions throughout the rumblecusp arc as a whole. without qualm, they discuss deliberately controlling jester’s time with artagan to ‘protect’ her and their willingness to kill the evil image they’ve constructed of him, and dodge jester directly asking them what they’re talking about—even though it is a known given that the m9 would defend her with their lives with or without any prior discussion. the purpose of holding this conversation isn’t to make sure that jester is safe. like caduceus near-explicitly says, it’s to “feel better knowing” that “anybody else was on board with this” (20:26 and 18:57)—to validate their unacknowledged distrust of jester’s judgment with each other, behind her back.

and as laura has said: jester, with her very high wisdom, tends to know what’s going on even if she acts like she doesn’t (talks for e79, 32:39).

in e103, when jester is crying because she’s found out that artagan did know about the island’s memory problems, caleb doesn’t show any sign of taking this as proof of artagan's ill intent. what he does instead: he offers compassion for her pain with zero judgment. he promises to support her, no matter what she ultimately decides to make of this information. these are offers of safety and trust, ones that jester desperately needed.

then—caleb creates a programmed illusion of the m9’s lives. and it’s beautiful.

in comparison to all the analysis prior, this moment is straightforward. jester is an artist. she paints, draws, and creates, and she loves doing it. moreover, she loves making art for other people. though she doesn’t get many chances to do so, the mural of a flowery meadow that she paints for yasha’s room in the xhorhaus is a perfect example. similarly, she enjoys the art she makes when defacing other people’s property—altered signage or statue of the platinum dragon painted in rainbow—in part because they’re gifts to the traveler. she loves making those she loves happy.

happiness and love to jester is overwhelmingly about emotional intimacy. i’ve talked about this to some degree in a previous post about jester’s jealousy. please refer there for in-depth explanation. in brief, though, she puts value on how deeply she knows a person; how often she’s been able to be there for them. this is the love she learned from her mother and from artagan, and how she continues to love once she’s older.

caleb’s arcane rendition of the m9′s lives floating around the inside of the dome is a display of exactly this kind of love. not only is it art crafted from his magic and imagination and love—it’s blatant evidence of how much he cares for every member of the party and where they’ve come from. he remembers their stories and hangs them in the air in hopes that it’ll help them resist the memory erasing. he moves the memory of yasha and zuala in a meadow over to yasha’s pillow-side so she can watch it until she falls asleep. he creates a memory for vilya of her, her husband, and her daughter, listening to and respecting the emotional gravity of what she’s confiding in them.

only a few minutes after jester’s disappointing commune with artagan and her conversation with caleb, she walks into the dome and sees this art. she laughs and stares in wonder at all the memories (e103, 1:46:08). when beau points out the humorous memories of fjord being attacked by turtles so they can all laugh, she tells caleb with equal awe and joy, “wow. this is amazing, caleb” (e103, 1:47:04).

...of course, as lovely and meaningful as these back-to-back moments were for jester, it's not quite evidence of her starting to fall in love with caleb around this time.

that’s where the following episodes come in.

[id: three screenshots of messages sent in a discord channel by the user “prim” (the op). all are timestamped to friday, august 28, 2020, the day after the live premiere of e107. the first has an additional timestamp of 12:53 PM, the second 1:03 PM, and the third 1:30 PM. they read:

honest to god though i don't know if it's just the shipper brain that is making me think laura is trying to roleplay jester beginning to reciprocate caleb's feelings [...]

like........ the golden dick hunt teasing is definitely on par with jester's past shenanigans, but the compliments have been Catching My Attention bc it's honestly not normal for jester to compliment caleb of her own volition like that, just as a one-on-one "i appreciate you" reassurance

and i'm thinking less about the spells from last night's episode (although how much jester was emphasizing the compliments made me go "awwwww") and more of the moments like jester telling caleb "that was impressive" after getting cad out of the tunnel with beau's help

but laura is absolutely a shipping troll with jester this campaign so i'm here like "I'M MAYBE 80% SURE I'M BEING FUCKED WITH BUT IT MAYBE HOLDS UP????" [...]

basically laura keeps doing things that make the alarm in my brain go off and i don't know if i'm picking up something legit or if i'm projecting my hopes, like the recent pattern of compliments from jester LOL

/end id.]

i’m not going to lie, if i try to list every single receipt like i otherwise prefer to do in these metas, i think we (and especially i) would all lose our minds. so while i’m about to provide a lot of citations, they genuinely are just a few possible examples that will mostly be within the dozen episodes after e103.

the more important detail that can be observed from this is that e103 is a turning point.

prior to e103, jester does not particularly go out of her way to interact with caleb. by and large, most of their direct interactions are either initiated by caleb or prompted by the context of a general party conversation. the majority of other moments that could be referred to as ‘widojest’ are of caleb’s evident feelings. beyond early campaign days, jester rarely teases caleb about sexual topics while insinuating things about her own sexual life at the same time.

after e103, laura and jester begin to go out of their way to interact with and intertwine jester’s time with caleb.

the rate of jester’s compliments and enthusiastic gratitude to caleb skyrocket (some examples: e104, 30:36 / e107, 16:49 and 1:11:28 and 1:12:15 and 3:10:39 / e110, 15:58 and 3:37:24 / e111, 36:15 and 38:41 and 50:58);

several mature jokes/flirtations she makes involve both caleb and herself (examples: e107, 1:16:17 / e110, 1:18:07 / e115, 1:52:53);

she deliberately and specifically engages caleb in full-blown interactions, such as the conversations during the tour of her childhood bedroom (e110, beginning 1:11:38), hanging out with him on the icebreaker ship (e112, beginning 3:45:29), and the reading of der katzenprinz (e115, beginning 1:52:43);

as well as the expansion of more extended ‘conversations’ like their motif of dancing (e108, 13:39 / e109, 2:54:14), their parental relationships (e110, 20:44 and 3:38:41 / e115′s der katzenprinz / e121, beginning 1:52:12), and polymorph shenanigans (examples: e107, beginning 2:58:41 / e117, beginning 1:13:55 / e118, 43:57).

thrown in are additional background details that further tie jester to caleb, such as her determination to recover caleb’s amulet after their defeat of vokodo (e106, 25:33), the knowing comments on his purchasing of paper (e109, 22:32 / e111, 1:25:49), her deliberate choice to ride whaleb during the avantika chase (e113, 2:32:28), her retrieval of caleb’s coat when he’s attempting to remove the necromantic emerald (e115, 1:30:56), and her deliberate reference to der katzenprinz to iver (e120, 3:05:14);

and simply everything about the tower. it’s another example of the art and creativity caleb produces with his magic to make his loved ones happy, which jester acknowledges at least twice (refer to the e111 compliments). contrarily, jester also makes note of the signs that this tower shows less love to caleb than she thinks he deserves, in keeping with her value of emotional intimacy (e115’s der katzenprinz / e122’s floor 8, room 1).

the reading of der katzenprinz in e115 is arguably the pinnacle of these examples. it’s intentionally initiated by jester. she both takes the step to visit caleb's room and indirectly requests him to read the story to her. laura’s implication that she remembered this subplot because of beau’s reading of a very romantic letter from yasha is particularly suggestive. the story itself incorporates many similar characters and themes that are present in jester’s backstory: the lonely, sheltered boy and his single working mom as jester and marion; the dubious cat prince who ultimately gives the boy freedom and confidence as artagan; and the deep love between the boy and his mother because of how they only have each other, which compels a powerful being to have compassion and thus set the boy free so that they can be together. very similar to both jester’s depth of relationship with her mother and her pleas on artagan’s behalf to the moonweaver’s celestial servant.

and the post-story conversation—caleb’s confiding of its importance to him because of his mother. jester’s open willingness to compare the cat prince to artagan, knowing that caleb respects their friendship and has treated artagan fairly. jester’s lingering, repeated looks toward caleb while smiling and holding her copy of der katzenprinz to her heart.

with all this dramatic expansion of the emotional and thematic intimacy between jester and caleb beginning to roll down the hill after e103—in brilliant contrast to their more muted, less reciprocal dynamic before this episode—e103 is more than likely the turning point of jester’s feelings. and based on the events and context, it was caused by the combined emotional appeal of caleb’s offer of unconditional support and his display of love for his family in the programmed illusion of memories.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[crusherthedoctor]

Here's a question for you that you'll have to wrap your head around: Which Pokemon would you want to have in the games if you were immediately allowed to have it? You can choose mainly from your memory of whatever Pokemon, or look it up in Bulbapedia to see which catches your eye the most.

Apologies for taking a while to answer this one, but it wasn't easy to narrow them down since there's a shitload of them. inb4 veterans of the series laugh at my newcomer naivety for picking choices that turn out to be terrible or mediocre in actual battle.

Still, if we're judging purely from their designs alone...

Gen 1: Blastoise

Gen 2: Yanmega

Gen 3: Groudon (though I do like Kyogre as well)

Gen 4: Empoleon

Gen 5: Cofagrigus

Gen 6: Mega Diancie

Gen 7: Primarina

Gen 8: Corviknight

[ieattaperecorders]

Trapdoor

Inb4 we get a good description of the post-apocalyptic world, wrote a little monster encounter for these boys. It’s also here on Ao3.

- - -

“Where are you going?”

Martin turned to Jon who stood a few paces back, looking quizzical. “Towards the hills? You just said it would be safer there.”

“I absolutely did not say that.” Jon replied. “I said we ought to go this way,” he gestured in the direction he’d been turning. “Stick to the lower places, where there’s less room for things to sneak up.”

The rolling, rocky countryside had been suspiciously innocuous lately. Unsettlingly normal. For the last few kilometers, nothing had leaped out at them or tried to lure them towards apparent safety. No part of the world had suddenly twisted or inverted around them. In fact, for some time the terrain they’d been walking across had done an impressive job of resembling ordinary Scottish land on a gray and drizzly morning. It was leaving both of them tense, anxious, waiting for the hammer to fall.

“. . .I’m pretty sure I heard you.” Martin looked back at the hills. “And it feels safer to go that way? I dunno, higher ground? Doesn’t that seem right?”

“Martin.” Jon put his hands on Martin’s arms, speaking slowly and carefully. “You might want to consider the possibility that something is making you feel that way.”

“That doesn’t sound ri - - ah.” Martin caught himself. “Maybe. Er,” he lifted his arms. “Have I got any spiders on me?”

Jon peered over him nervously. “I mean. I don’t see any, but it’s not likely going to be that simple.”

“How do we know which way is safe, then?” Martin asked. “If we’re possibly dealing with mind control, it could be tricking you as well.”

“It’s wise to be skeptical where these things are concerned.” Jon said, “But I was able to see in the Unknowing, and I think this may be similar. Besides that, you seem a little . . . dazed, to me?”

“Yeah. . .” Now that he was focusing on it, he had to admit that his head felt off somehow. “I guess I am feeling a little . . . dazed.”

“I think that my connection to the Eye is the only thing keeping keep me safe. We ought to move as quickly as we can.” Jon looked at him intently. “If this place is affecting your mind, you might not be able to trust everything you see and hear. So stay close to me, try to ignore anything strange. I’ll guide you.”

There was something moving in Martin’s peripheral vision. Tiny ripples formed in the dirt, as if something was shifting underground. He swore he could hear a muffled noise, like a shuffling or hissing, coming from nearby.

“Don’t focus on it.” Jon’s hand came up to tilt Martin’s face towards his own. “Whatever you’re seeing, I’m pretty sure looking at it is a mistake. Just look at me. Focus on my voice. You can trust me.”

“Right.” That noise was getting louder, and Martin tried to ignore it. “Looking is probably a mistake. . . .”

Even out of the corner of his eye, though, Martin could tell that thing was moving closer. He was relieved when Jon turned, hand clasping his, and started leading him away from it.

“This way,” Jon said, pulling gently but quickly at him. “Try to keep your eyes on me.”

But it was really hard not to look down when the mud started to swirl around at their heels. The sound coming from below was just loud enough for Martin to make out a word.

Stop--

And he was pretty sure he did not want to listen to the ground telling him to stop moving, so he decided to quicken his pace a little. But he hadn't gotten far before the soil opened up behind him and a hand, black with mud, reached out and gripped his ankle.

Martin yelped and pulled away, but the hand’s grip was tight, and he only succeeded in yanking half an arm out of the ground with it.

“Don’t look down!” Jon’s voice came from behind him, hand still gripping his. “That’s how it pulls you in. Just keep moving!”

And Martin would have done as he said, except at that moment the soil shifted and a pair of shoulders joined the arm, as did the rough shape of a human head. There were more arms surrounding it, bent and twisted ones with joints like the legs of an insect and long, grasping hands. They reached out and wrapped around the muddy figure to pull it back down, but it was quickly struggling free. Choking, gasping and spitting mud, Jon’s face emerged from below.

“S-stop--” he gasped, looking wild-eyed at Martin “Stop listening to it!”

“Oh my God . . . Jon!?” Martin stared at the half-buried figure.

“Let him go!” Jon’s voice growled from behind him, directed at the muddy silhouette. “He’s not for you!”

The Jon that was covered in mud coughed and spat out a gobbet of earth, its hand still gripping Martin’s leg . He was pulling him towards the mud, he realized, and the grasping hands. Or, no, was he pulling himself out? Or was he just pulling Martin towards himself, away from the one who was holding him?

The one who was - - there was still a hand gripping his hand. Whose...whose hand was on him . . . .?

“Martin. Look at it.” The Jon clinging to his ankle fixed a penetrating gaze on him. Martin felt something . . . a painful moment of light piercing the haze in his mind. “Look at what you’ve been talking to.”

Martin looked back at the thing holding his hand. It was definitely not Jon. It had too many limbs, and not enough eyes, and when it smiled there was a hissing sound like that of a chittering insect.

He screamed, pulling his hand back and trying back away. Unfortunately the real Jon still held his ankle, so he didn’t back away so much as stumble and fall flat onto the ground. The monster loomed. It no longer looked like Jon, but it retained just enough detail - his scarred right hand, the color of his shirt, the lower half of his face now split with a too wide grin - to make everything else seem worse.

“Get away - -” Jon’s voice was hoarse, rough with the soil he’d been trapped in, but there was fire in it. “Get - - away from him.”

The creature froze in place as Jon pulled himself up beside Martin. Martin assumed that Jon’s gaze was keeping it still, but he wasn’t going to rely on the Watcher if he could help it. He took the moment of distraction as a chance to sweep the creature’s legs. Having a dozen, spindly, twisting limbs might be good for frightening people who wander into your terrible pit trap. But they didn’t provide much in terms of stability. The creature went down, landing half on top of Martin.

In a panic, he kicked it towards the hole that Jon had crawled out of. A new arm shot out of the ground just as the monster began to rise. A hand wrapped around one if its gangly legs, and was joined by another. Then another, and another, and many more, until it was looked more like a tangle of chitinous wire than anything remotely humanoid.

Martin and Jon scrabbled back from the pits’ edge as the thing was dragged down and swallowed, screaming inhumanly. The ground went quiet again, and the two of them stopped and breathed.

“Are you all right?” Jon asked.

Martin nodded. “I think so. What about you?”

“I think so.” Jon cleared his throat, voice still raw. “I wasn’t down there long. If, ah, if suffocation were lethal here I’d probably be in more trouble.”

“Here, hang on. . . .” Martin shrugged off his backpack. He was glad he’d had the foresight to bring some bottles of water, despite neither of them feeling thirst anymore. He’d known they’d have some practical use -- or, if he was being honest with himself, tea-related use. But this seemed the more immediate concern.

Jon took the water gratefully, swishing his mouth out and spitting a few times, then attempted to clean himself off. His clothes weren’t going to be pristine again, that was for certain, but he managed to get from ‘dirt monster’ to ‘man who’s been tramping through the muddy woods.’ Which wasn't far from where they’d both been to begin with, and would have to do.

“Stepped in the wrong spot.” Jon muttered as he scrubbed at his hair. “I was underground in an instant.”

“I didn’t even see. I’m sorry.” Martin said.

“It’s not your fault.” Jon replied. “That thing was toying with your mind. I could see it even from down there, but I couldn’t reach you. . . .”

“We should get moving again.” Martin said, getting to his feet. “That thing might be able to crawl out too.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Jon pulled himself up, brushing off what remaining soil he could, and took Martin’s hand. “Towards the hills?”

Martin nodded, slinging the bag back over his shoulder.

“Jon. . .” a startlingly familiar voice came from behind them. “What’s going on?”

Martin turned and found himself facing a figure that looked only vaguely like him. Actually, it would be more right to say it looked exactly like he would look if a number of long, twisted monster arms burst from his back and wrapped themselves around his head and body. It was covered in black mud and one of those long hands obscured the top corner of its face. It stood a few meters away, but Martin could still make out its expression, which was a mocking mimicry of concern.

The Martin-thing held out a hand. “Jon, listen, that’s not me,” it said. Its voice sounded off, though that much might just be because Martin was used to hearing his own voice resonate in his head. “I don’t know what it is, but that isn’t me.”

If the image hadn’t been so unsettling, Martin might have laughed at it. “Nice try? But I don't think he's going to buy it.”

Martin looked over at Jon, who was staring in shock at the Martin-thing. He turned back to Martin and his eyes narrowed with suspicion and concern. Martin groaned inwardly.

“Seriously?” He said. “You’re not really fooled by that thing, are you? It’s covered in weird spider-arms and dripping with mud.”

“Is that what you see?” Jon asked, brow knit.

“I mean, yes?”

“Because he looks entirely normal to me. And--” Jon tensed and Martin felt static at the edges of his perception. A quiet, pained grunt came from between Jon’s teeth. “He looks. . .authentic. Real,” he glanced back at Martin, looking intently at him. “So do you, incidentally.”

“Well thanks very much.” Martin said.

“I, ah.” Jon frowned. “I’m not sure. . .what to do with this?”

There was silence for a while as the three of them stared at each other, not moving. Jon was still holding Martin’s arm, but his grip had tightened a little. Martin suddenly wasn’t sure if Jon was clinging to him, or keeping him in place.

“Okaaay.” The Other Martin said. “So, uh. . . Jon, when you were still working in research, I picked your name for the yearly White Elephant. I barely knew you at that point, so I made the mistake of asking Tim what he thought you’d want. I probably should have realized the ‘it’s wine o’clock somewhere’ t-shirt wasn’t actually your style, but I thought maybe you and Tim had a similar sense of humor and you dressed differently when you weren’t at work.”

“Oh, we’re doing that, are we?” Martin said, annoyed. “Fine. I didn’t let you eat lunch alone for two weeks after you were stabbed. You didn’t want to talk about any of the things you were obsessed with at the time, so I started chatting about anything I could think of to fill the silence. Somehow I got onto cartoons we grew up with and that’s how I found out you’ve never played a Pokemon game but you know a really suspicious amount about the anime.”

The Martin-Thing? Other Martin? Martin was just going to think of it as the other one. It frowned through the tangle of its limbs at Martin’s response.

“The first time you told me that you loved me was on the train to Scotland,” it said, and hearing it talk about that made Martin’s teeth clench. “I was so startled to hear it that I froze and didn’t respond at all, and you started apologizing, worrying you’d made a mistake.”

“Our first night in the safehouse--” Martin said. “You were stroking my hair because you thought I was asleep. I thought you might stop if I opened my eyes, so I just kept pretending. I didn’t tell you about it for a week.”

“Two weeks after we met--” the other one began.

“Stop, stop!” Jon shouted, waved his free hand in the air. “None of that proves anything. There are creatures in this world quite capable of stealing memories, of replacing or re-writing them. You should both know that,” he added with a glare, “regardless of whether you’re real or not.”

The other one frowned. “Jon, it’s me . . . .”

The thing took a step closer and Martin started to back away. Jon kept his grip on him, though that only meant he was pulled along a step or two before he dug his heels into the soft earth.

“Don’t!” he snapped, and Martin stopped moving. Jon released his arm, pose tense, his gaze shooting wildly between them. “Don’t move. Just- - both of you stay where I can see you.”

“Okay. Okay . . .” Martin held up his hands. He could see Jon was starting to panic, and tried to sound calm. “I’m not moving.”

The other one mirrored Martin's pose and Jon nodded, frowning. He backed a step or two away, positioning himself more evenly between the two Martins. His arms were a little out from his sides, as if making ready to grab or push away either one.

“Maybe don’t get too close to it, though?” Martin said, an edge of worry in his voice. “Just in case? Okay?”

“Yeah,” the other one shot back, audibly offended. “Don’t get too close to it, Jon.”

Jon pressed a hand to his forehead, sighing. “Just - just let me think, all right?”

“Right. Take all the time you need.” the other one said, its tone unpleasantly familiar.

Jon paced back and forth with agitation, always keeping his eyes on one of them. Martin watched the other one, in case it made a move for Jon or for him. He couldn’t help but notice It was looking back at him with what he assumed was an identical, watchful expression. Mimics were absolutely the worst.

“Either somehow both of you are really Martin,” Jon muttered, still pacing “or my perception’s being altered in a way I can’t break through. But if it’s the latter I don’t know how we’d proceed. If they both look real, maybe it means neither of them is? But if that’s the case the real Martin could be anywhere, and how am I supposed to find him if I can’t trust what I see. . . .”

“I mean - -” Martin couldn’t help but feel a little hurt hearing Jon talk about him as if he was both not there and in fact, not real. It wasn’t his fault, but it did sting a bit. “How could we both be real?”

“Does that seem impossible at this point?” Jon threw his arms in the air. “That something could split a person in two? Or double them? That would feed into something, surely. The -- the existential fear of it all. Not to mention the fear of being deceived, of unreality, paranoia. . . .”

Martin considered this. “Well. . . that’s fair. But we both saw that other Jon. After that, it seems more likely that one of us is a trick,” he sighed, glaring at the other one. “And I mean. I know which one’s real, but I don’t know how I can prove it to you.”

“You didn’t say you were real.” The other one said triumphantly. “You said ‘I know which one,’ that’s probably a tell, Jon.”

“I meant me, I’m real, I was just trying not to be rude.”

“All right, all right. If nothing else either one of you could be a . . . a replacement.” Jon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But unless I know, I can’t take the risk of leaving the real Martin behind. So I think we’re all just going to have to stick together until one of you tries to, I don’t know, enslave my will or turn me inside out or something.”

“That’s a bad plan, Jon.” The other one said.

“Yeah, I kind of have to agree with the other one?” Martin said. “I mean, you’re talking about definitely letting an evil doppleganger tag along, I can’t see that ending well.”

“Well unless one of you wants to tear off a Martin skin and get this over with, I don’t see any other options!” Jon snapped, frustrated.

There was a pause, then the other one spoke up.

“What if you asked us who we are?” it suggested. “I mean. . .nothing’s been able to lie to you so far, right?”

Jon considered. He looked at Martin for permission, and he nodded.

“Yeah, all right.” he said. “Do it.”

“Who are you?” Jon’s voice reverberated, reaching into him. The words came out with no resistance.

“I’m Martin Blackwood,” he said.

Jon looked guarded but a measure of relief showed in him, and Martin smiled at that.

“And who are you?” Jon asked the other.

“I’m Martin Blackwood,” it said, “I'm someone who loves you.”

“I mean, I love you too.” Martin said, frowning. Hearing that thing say those words in particular made his stomach twist a little. “I just didn’t think that was what you were asking.”

Jon was quiet for a moment, considering, then he looked at the other one. “Who were you an hour ago?”

“I was Martin Blackwood,” it said. “I’ve always been.”

“And you?” Jon turned back to Martin. “Who were you an hour ago?”

“I was mud.” Martin said. “Eternally grasping, flowing ever downwards. I was hands, many and needful, aching to grip and wrench and pull. I was the thought of hands, hands that grip the mind. Ones you cannot pull away from without ripping out the most vulnerable parts of yourself. And now, I am Martin Blackwood.”

Martin blinked, hand halfway to his throat. The words had poured out of him, he hadn’t even needed to think. Where had they come from?

“I. . .I don’t. I don’t know why I said that?” He laughed nervously. “Why would I say that?”

Jon’s eyes were wide with fear and he backed towards the other one, arm out as if to separate Martin from it. And that wasn’t fair. Why was he trusting that thing over him? It didn’t even look like him.

“Keep away from it.” Jon said.

“Yeah, I got that.” The thing behind him replied.

“Wait- I, I know how this must sound,” Martin tried to explain, “but it’s got to be some kind of trick. I don’t know where those words came from. It’s me. It’s the real me, I promise.”

“I very much doubt that.” Jon said, his voice cold. He was looking at Martin with such hatred, and it stirred something raw and panicky in him.

“Ask me again!” Martin pleaded, voice trembling. “I’ll get it right this time, just ask again!”

“The answer will be the same.” Jon said firmly.

“Jon.” The thing standing behind him put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, speaking softly. “We should probably run. It feels like this is going to get worse really, really soon.”

“Don’t!” Martin resisted the urge to step closer, afraid that if he did Jon would just do as the other one said and start running. “I’m me. I’m Martin Blackwood. You heard me say it, you know it’s true. I’m Martin.”

“But you’re also a trap.” Jon said. When he opened his mouth again, his voice pierced through Martin’s entire being. “Aren’t you?”

This time he did resist, tried to close his mouth as he the words welled up in him. But it was no use.

“Yes,” tears gathered in Martin’s eyes as the truth forced its way through his lips. “A trap for you.”

“No different than the other half of it.” Jon nodded solemnly. “Just a little bit crueler.”

Martin was dizzy. Everything felt like it was falling away. His own words reverberated in his head, taunting him, and he wanted to scream. Then Jon turned and began to walk away, and Martin did panic.

“Wait! Please, just let me come with you,” he begged. “I’m not - I won’t cause trouble. I won’t even complain about the other one, I promise. I - -” he swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He saw Jon hesitate, gripping the other one a little more tightly, and it held him tightly back. It hurt. That thing didn’t look or feel remotely right, but it was holding Jon. Holding and being held by him while Martin was left outside. Only a few meters away, but it may as well have been the full length of the earth.

“I feel like myself. I feel like . . .like him,” admitting to being something other than Martin was almost physically painful, but he pressed on. “Like Martin. Maybe I didn’t used to be, but I am now.”

“A hand that can conceive of itself,” Jon said darkly. “Clenched by an unseen mind.”

Fairchild’s words now echoed by Jon rang in his memory. The old man had been right. It was horrid. Martin didn’t want to think about any of it. He just wanted to run to Jon, pull him into his arms, hold him close and be held. Couldn’t he just have that? Couldn’t it be that simple?

“I love you.” Martin said. “You can ask me, I’ll say it a thousand times, because it’s true.”

“. . . But you’ll still hurt him,” the other one said. Its voice was as gentle as its words were cruel. “Even if you don’t want to, it’s what you were made to do. The trap is going to close eventually.”

Martin shook his head violently. It wasn’t true. Whatever he might be, he wouldn’t hurt Jon. He just wanted to stay with him. He wanted to wrap his arms around Jon and never let go. He wanted to bury Jon’s face in his chest and hold him close and promise he was safe with him and be believed. Even if they weren’t his, he had memories of a thousand loving embraces. A thousand more gentle touches, kisses, tender looks. They felt no less real than this moment did.

At the same time, he knew Jon would never hold him again. Not willingly. Not anymore.

Something was moving under the earth, snaking closer to the three of them. Something that also wanted to hold them very, very close. Based on the uneasy way they were starting to look at the ground, Martin suspected they felt it rumbling.

“If you love him,” the other one spoke quickly, his voice wavering as the soil shook. “If you’re really me enough to love him, then I think you want him to be safe. And I’m sorry, but he’s not going to be safe with you.”

The heaviness of his words settled on Martin like the weight of all creation. He felt a thousand grasping hands reach out, fingers just breaking the surface of the soil. The two men holding tightly to one another jumped as the earth shifted around them. Then all at once the hands lost their will, and dissolved back into mud.

Martin sat on the ground. He held himself and looked down at the dirt, which was where he truly belonged. He’d keep his gaze fixed there until he heard them leave, then he’d look up and he’d be alone. A hand that could conceive of itself, with nothing to hold.

“. . . Martin?”

Jon’s voice was soft, and Martin assumed he was talking to the other one, the real one, the one who deserved him. But he repeated the name closer this time, and Martin looked up.

Jon stood just a little more than an arm’s length away. The other one was behind him, a hand held protectively on his shoulder. Jon leaned forward, face soft and sad, and Martin took a shallow breath.

“Maybe. . .” Jon said, gently “you should go back to being mud. I think it would be easier than being human. It wouldn’t . . . hurt as much.”

Slowly, Martin nodded. He didn’t remember being mud, but he was pretty damn sure it hurt a lot less than this.

“I don’t know if I can, though,” he said, an ache in his voice. “I don’t. . . I don’t know how to stop being Martin.”

“I can help you, I think.” Jon said. “If you’d let me.”

“But what if. . .” Martin frowned. “If- if I’m mud again. I won’t . . . I mean. . .what if I try to--”

“Then we’ll run.” Jon sounded confident, calm. “We’ve gotten away from worse before. You remember, don’t you?”

He did remember, in fact. Dozens of panicked escapes since the day they left the cabin. Memories of fear, of adrenaline, and of the fierce, mad victory of knowing you’ve reached the other side. They had dealt with worse. He looked questioningly at the other one, who nodded.

“Y-yes.” Martin said softly. “Yes. I’d . . . I’d like to be mud again. Please.”

He felt a vast and painful awareness reach into him, and it pulled out the story of a kind, nervous man who was always underestimated.

The mud slid away from the curves and angles of Martin Blackwood. Details fell back one by one - a quiet night working late, a hand gripping desperately at another, a sweater worn threadbare. For a moment, the mud felt the softest sensation of loss. Then a comfortable hunger returned to it and that feeling dissolved. Filled with relief and clarity once more it reached eagerly, gratefully, to grasp its nearby prey.

The two men staggered back, making the sounds that creatures make when they’re afraid, and their short clumsy limbs scrabbled around them. More of the mud came to join it. Dozens upon dozens of limbs, eternally grasping with an ache to wrench and pull, slid up from the ground to encircle the pair.

But this prey was quick. It was armed, and though the simple weapons could not do the mud any real damage, they were enough to knock limbs aside and open gaps in the tangle, clearing a path for escape. The mud stretched so many limbs to their limit, but its prey reached higher ground and soon it could not follow. Instead it watched eyelessly as they ran towards the hills where the ground would be too dry and too solid for mud to form.

There were countless dangers ahead of them, but this one, they’d escaped. They would not be wrapped in a thousand clutching arms, would not feel the grasping fingers twist in their hearts, would not be pulled into the endless down.

As the tangle of its limbs swirled in frustrated hunger, the mud laughed. It laughed, and laughed, in joy and in relief, as the two figures vanished into the distance.

[pekorosu]

so i was reading this question on chiebukuro titled smth like "i was berated by a stranger" with op describing a situation where she was at the food court with her 2 kids while her husband went to get food. her 1 year old started climbing on the table with shoes on, so she tried to get the kid off the table but the kid refused to and started throwing a tantrum. meanwhile her hungry 3 yo started to open a packet of sweets with dirty hands, so she quickly switched her attention to him before he succeeded in stuffing his germy hands into his mouth. then some random lady walked up to her and started berating her for leaving her 1 yo standing on the table. op apologized profusely to that lady who eventually walked off, still muttering disapprovingly under her breath. op asked what would’ve been the best course of action in that situation. she also mentioned if she were in that lady's shoes she would have at least offered to help out if she saw another mother with her hands tied like that.

the highest voted answer: “climbing on tables is unacceptable, and the fact that your child is already 1 year old and doesn't understand that is the problem. you are in the wrong for not raising your child properly. it's only natural for people to be upset when a public space gets trashed, so that lady was right, don't you think? i'm not saying you have to lock yourself up inside the house, but until your kid develops the bare minimum amount of common sense, you should only go to places that are equipped with facilities for babies. also, if you can't handle being separated from your husband, you should go to a restaurant that can take your order, not a food court.”

i’m just like...... uhhhhhhhhh....... hello?????? it's a goddamn ONE YEAR OLD??? “common sense”??? what the fuck? mostly i can't wrap my head around the fact that this wacko was more focused on PUBLIC DISTURBANCE than the fact that the kid could have fallen off and broken their neck or smth. inb4 someone’s like, yea so that random lady was actually watching out for the kid in her own way! please. she could’ve helped without the holier-than-thou attitude >_>

another answer was like "other people aren’t obligated to help you out. that woman was kind enough to have even bothered to berate you" like seriously?????? you guys are friggin DEMONS no wonder your kids are all suicidal no WONDER no one wants to have kids, NONE OF YOU EVEN WANT THEM AROUND

[artsynimbus]

♪♥my BlackSun Playlist♥♪

Let me be clear first- cause its hard for me to explain things sometimes, but when I hear these songs, my brain automatically pictures either Blake or Suns perspective I’ve also made sure to note whos perspective from the list below. Some might not be 100% accurate, but oh well! I can help what my brain cooks up (♥ω♥ ) ~♪ inb4 I made sure all of the songs were clean! Please check the list below though if you don’t like the artists and for my ‘*’s though! But anyway my music tastes are all over the place so you’re probably gonna have a trip listening to it all if you bother, (RnB,Rap,Pop,KJazz etc) the theme around most of the songs are extreme pining and understanding, which is usually what I think of when it comes to the pair. Anyway! I thought it’d be cute/cool to share the songs I listen to for #blacksunweek2020. Hope you all enjoy the playlist @blacksunweek​

[Here]

Wrapped up - Olly Murs (Sun) ”Dont ever stop controlling me,I kinda like it when you bring me to my knees. You’ve got me wrapped up- around your finger-- I’ll do anything for your love now!” I Like You - Katy B (Blake) “I like you.. a little bit. More than I should..”

Oui - Jeremih (Sun) “ Hey, theres no ‘oui’ without ‘u’ and ‘i’ ”

Into you - Ariana Grande (Blake) “Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move.. Before I make a move.” 

Fiesty - Jhameel (Sun) “ After that, girl, I'm never going back- I'm addicted to the way that you can love me and then walk on”

One Kiss - Dua Lipa (Blake) “One kiss is all it takes, falling in love with me”

Number One - Tuxedo (Sun) “In the game of love to steal my heart- girl youre burning up the charts!”

No Place Id Rather Be - Clean Bandit (Blake) “Its easy being with you- Sacred Simplicity. As long as we’re together, theres no place I’d rather be.”

What lovers do - Maroon5 ft SZA (BS) “Gotta tell me if you love me or not- Been wishing for you- Am I lucky or not?”

Say So - Doja Cat (Blake)* "Day and night to morning, keep with me in the moment” [her names Doja cat ofc i thought of blacksun here]

I feel it coming (Sun)* “You’ve been scared of love and what it did to you. You don’t have to run I know what you’ve been through-” [This song has a bit of innuendo in it, if you’re not comfortable skip this song!]

Speechless - Clazziquai (Blake) “I’m speechless, I’ve got to get to you-take your hands, and kiss”

Your Touch - Blake Lewis (Sun) “I’ve been waiting for your touch- Your beauty consumes me--- I’ve never loved someone so much”

Love lies - Khalid ft Normani (BS) “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you aint with it. I see you focused, yeah you’re so independent. Its hard for me to open up- I’ll admit it. You got some sh*t to say and I’m here to listen.”

Fallen - Jaden Smith (Sun) “I just wanna spend some time with you, I might bend the rules, cause I’m in love with you.” Unbreakable -  Lauren Dyson (Blake) “Two hearts, four broken pieces, thats who we were before-- I cant’ control this feeling, too crazy to ignore--, somehow we fit together- now we’re unbreakable”

Die for you - The Weeknd (Sun) “I don’t want this feeling-- I can’t afford love- I’ve tried to find reason to pull us apart-- It ain't working, 'cause you're perfect, and I know that you're worth it, I can't walk away”

Romeo and Juliet - Clazziquai (BS) [Korean] “In this world, my days, your nights- Watch them end the same way. ‘Lets fall asleep together..”

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Inb4 the gang gets wrapped up in a very srs crime drama scenario revolvin round a crime syndicate nd missing one billion yen or more during the holidays.

...(*barely audible* kiwami... is this blog)

I really hope, of all things that are to come in the future, that isn’t one of them...

[queen-parasoul]

So um... Not sure if you take requests for stories or not, but if you do, I had a random idea where Ms. Fortune somehow ends up finding Carol and taking her in after the rejection from her parents, and Carol breaks down sobbing due to the constant pain and wanting her parents, and Nadia comforts her by just holding her and purring like a mama cat trying to calm down her kitten. If you're interested, I'd love to see this done as a short story. inb4 im sending this to the wrong guy

“…And that’s about it.” Nadia finished. “She hasn’t tried to kill me since I found her, so I think she’s fine for now.”

Irvin leaned against the wall and processed her account. The silence of the now closed Dak’kull Dubu gave them plenty of privacy to talk and peace to consider the night’s events. Even their unexpected guest was silent, though they couldn’t help but keep some attention on her.

Across the room, a teenage girl with messy brown hair sat hunched at a table. She had changed out of her strange clothing into a loose t-shirt and pants Minette had on hand, though the grim leather mask was still firmly affixed to her face. The fan of blades attached to her tailbone with a spine-like chord lay motionless on the floor, and the adults could see patches of scars and dark veins beneath her skin even from a distance.

Irvin furrowed his brow. “Was there anything else she mentioned besides Filia and Lab 0?”

“Not much that made sense. Something about a ‘Brain Drain’ and a connection being lost, whatever that means.” She shook her head. “I think she’s purr-obably going to have a hard time adjusting back to a normal life. All I did was startle her and she almost turned me into a pin cushion.”

“Maybe this ‘Filia’ girl can help. Yu Wan said he knew her, didn’t he?”

“He thinks so at least. A girl named Filia stayed here a few nights ago with an old friend of his. Hopefully it’s the same one we’re looking for.”

“Hopefully.” Irvin put his hat back on. “I plan on following this lead on Lab 0. I’ve got an old friend from Lab 8 who might have some answers, and a friend of his who can help her with her, uh…medical problems.”

“You think a doctor can fix this?”

Irvin smiled. “Trust me, he’s a miracle worker. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

He tipped his hat and exited through the front door. Keeping a calm smile on her face, Nadia strolled over to Carol, careful to make her presence known to avoid getting a surprised needle shoved through her torso.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m…okay.” She replied, the rasp and gloom in her voice not exactly convincing.

“You need anything else to eat?”

“No thanks.”

Right. She’d demolished the complimentary meal Yu Wan had whipped up. No surprise, you could have seen her ribs through the outfit she’d been wearing.

“Don’t worry about a thing. You can stay here until we get you back to your parents.”

“My…parents?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She lifted her head, staring at the wall. “My parents…ran away from me.”

Nadia’s ears dropped. She should have known it could only get worse.

“They were scared of me.” Carol continued quietly. “They called me a monster.”

Fighting to maintain her smile, Nadia tried kept positive. “I’m sure they just, uh…didn’t recognize you.”

“Of course they didn’t. And of course they didn’t listen. Just look at me.”

Nadia did, and found Carol touching the tightly stitched material of her mask.

“We’ll get that thing off your face in no time.” She reassured. “Then they can’t paw-ssibly not recognize you.”

The younger girl didn’t respond, and Nadia shifted uncomfortably. She always fell back on wordplay to lighten the mood, but now it seemed inappropriate when she read the room. Unfortunately, puns lightened her mood too, and without them for support she felt strangely lost.

Desperately, she changed the topic. “Do you remember anything else? You mentioned someone named Filia.”

“Yeah.” Carol said, almost fondly. “She’s a friend of mine. We go to the same school together. I think I saw her during the Skullgirl attack, but it’s hard to remember.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…I remember Dog.”

“A dog? What was its name?”

“Dog.”

Nadia quirked an eyebrow but went along with it. “Alright.”

“I remember Samson too.”

The name rang a bell. If it was the same friend Yu Wan had mentioned then maybe they had a chance of finding Filia and fixing this.

“And…I remember the Medici.”

Nadia’s triumph sunk to the pit of her stomach. That name rang a bell too. “Uh-huh?”

“I thought Lab 0 took me, but Valentine-” She winced at the sound of that name, “She told me it was the Medici. But she took me to the lab and then…I couldn’t move and it started hurting. Then I was moving but not always on my own and then I was fighting and it just kept hurting-”

Her voice suddenly became harsh and angry as sharp goosbumps erupted across her arms. Nadia flinched back, hair standing up on end, but Carol shivered hard and forced her skin to settle. The two waited for the raw echoes to dissipate.

“I miss them so much.” Carol muttered. “I just want them to know it’s me.”

Nadia stood by helplessly. No food, no puns, no mercy with this girl. She wondered if she could nab Yu Wan from the kitchen or Minette from upstairs for help, but she felt like that was giving up. She knew what it meant for the world to give up on her - twice, in fact - and she wasn’t about to do that to someone else.

A thought crossed her mind, and she blurted it out. “Do you want a hug?”

Carol stopped sniffling and looked up at Nadia whose arms were awkwardly half-extended to her. The room was silent aside from the muffled waters of Little Innsmouth. Nadia briefly wondered if this was her third strike out.

“Yeah.”

Surprised but thankful, Nadia pulled a chair closer and sat beside her. Arms still clinging to herself, Carol slowly leaned over then suddenly fell into her. Nadia recoiled, but quickly steadied herself and gingerly wrapped her arms around her, being careful not to touch any sore looking areas. Once she’d determined she was safe, Carol let herself whimper and shudder that built into unbridled crying. It went on for longer than either could count as her pent-up grief flooded the night.

After a while, Carol noticed a soft strange rumble reverb against her head. The low hum was enough to distract her and cause breaks in her sobbing. It oddly reminded her of the long car rides from the beach her parents would take her on, nostalgia that soothed her without reminder of her current predicament.

She finally realized, “Are you purring?”

“Yeah, I’m a cat Feral after all. It comes naturally. Does it bother you?”

“…No.” Carol wrapped her arms around Nadia’s torso. “I like it.”

Both finally relaxed for the first time since the Skullgirl attack, or perhaps even longer than that. Carol reminisced in the kinder memories of her home, breath only occasionally hitching while Nadia mentally made plans to visit the makeshift graves of her Fishbone family. They always made sure things were alright, and so would she.

In all the time since they had been taken from her, it had never crossed her mind there could be anyone as broken and stitched up as she was. But there was, and nearly being skewered was worth it to find her.

[lumen-tellus]

clothes: say it should be hand-washed and hand-dried me, who’s too tired to do that: into the washing machine and drier you go

[dramarising-replacement]

Inb4 "this is fake that's a lie" or anyone making snide comments about how I made my money (its mine not yours so) 

I spent 50 real American dollars buying the gems to buy my metallurgists forgetools. I'm terrible at saving gems but I really wanted me some forgetools and at the time they were the cheapest on AH that I had seen in a while, so part of my tax return went to flight rising to buy gems.

No regrets. 

All of this is to say, however, that when it comes to roundsey and get limited pool of retired familiars, I don't give a fresh fuck about it. I spent a lot of time, effort, and irl money getting retired items (all 2013 holiday apparel, not the armbands or sunchaser jewelry - yet - and I'm not into familiars, so no sprites for me) and I literally - LITERALLY - could not care less about roundsey tossing more retired items into the on site pool.

I get that this is going to make me unpopular with my fellow older players (been playing since 2014) and with the richer players (I would obviously consider my lair valuable but I'm definitely not the 1%) but I don't give a fuck. 

If a player who joined yesterday managed to end up with forgetools, they would get a "congrats!" from me.

I could understand all of your bitching if they were flooding the market and making these items common as the linen wraps or birdskull bands, but they're not. They're already explained that there's a finite number of items that will be in the pool, and that THE NUMBER OF ITEMS ON SITE IS NOT GOING TO GO UP BY EVEN 1%. It's not going to change anything for the value of the items already on site. 

"oh the staff is going back on their word!!!! 1!1!1!1!!" okay, but if you look at the site back in 2013 versus now in 2018, how different has it become? I know all you babies are soiling your diapers because "LIARS!!! 1!1!1!1!1!" but the site has to evolve and things have to change in order for the site to grow and be maintained. 

They're aware of the economy, they're aware of what they're doing. That's why they're not bringing back KS items or imp scrolls, and that's why they made a special point to be clear about what they're doing and how it's going to affect everyone. 

Get over yourselves. 

The only thing I don't like about roundsey is that there's no limit to the tickets you can buy. Popular users, old users, rich users have a steep advantage with it like this, so I can't help but feel like the same people who are bitching about the retired items returning are going to be the same people who win them anyways. I have 2 million saved and I'm not going to pretend like that's not chump change to many players.

Staff, at least implement a limit on tickets to level the playing field. 

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

now that the campaign’s almost over, i wonder if i should write up that breakdown of when and how i believe jester started falling in love with caleb inb4 the wrap-up confirms anything.

[otomates-a]

💘 @ lysandre bc i'm garbage?

⤿  let’s talk potential relationships ,

💘 romantic.

JKNMHKJNM I ALWAYS NEED TO QUESTION MY MUSE’S TASTES WHENEVER THEY GET WRAPPED UP W URS. i mean i love bae, catch lys staring at him blankly for a solid 5 minutes the first time they met, can confirm that’s canon. considering lys is part of the jerk squad in the interaction i gave u… bls… that is the Best setup for a relationship i’m ever gonna get with my muses lmAO “ur part of an after-school club dedicated 2 u being an asshole, make friends”

lysandre would handle bae’s personality really well in that he lets jokes bounce right off of him and might even be really snide back @ bae, the difference being that he isn’t really sarcastic when he’s calling someone out so 😂 that can only go well. he’d end up being the hopeless romantic one b/t the two but bae would be the most sentimental, that’s a cute pairing…. i’m love it…

imagine lys trying 2 figure out how to convince bae to hold a hand, that’d be sad

inb4 bae finds lys’ notebook so many times he just ends up stealing it