#it’s official I’m part of tumblr lore now

[chloesimaginationthings]

https://www.tumblr.com/the-haiku-bot/738250169066389504/the-fnaf-animatronics-arent-evil-just

YOU HAVE BEEN HAIKU BOTTED

I’ve been blessed by Haiku bot,,

[anniflamma]

This isn't a question, but rather a love letter to your art<3.

Thanks to you, I've started enjoying Greek mythology and the Bible again (I mean from a point of artistic, mythological, historical, and theological analysis; my status with any kind of religion is being agnostic XD).

And I already enjoyed Epic the Musical, but I really love the designs you make, how you empathize with the symbolism and lore of the Gods when designing them, and how you make Odysseus so human with his crude expressions that makes me empathize with him (And he's one of the characters I hated the most from Greek mythology lol)

And then there’s your art about the bible, I have to admit that I tend to avoid the biblical religion because of the weight it still has on our daily lives, the damage it has done from the past to this day, and how they deny it with current hypocrisy (I live in Spain, there the official religion is catholic), but your lgbt drawings have really encouraged me to open the bible and see it from an objective and neutral point of view, and just enjoy it as another book and not as something I’m forced to follow.

Also I didn’t know there was so much LGBT content in the bible XD Seriously, thank you so much, if you had a patreon, I would pay you for the amount of happiness and culture you have given me (^///^)

By the way, reading your posts I found out that you recently experienced an internet drama that has become so popular lately. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry that both you and that poor artist had to go through this, that human hypocrisy has no limits or shame, and that I agree with everything you say. Just because we like a character or an author doesn't mean we agree with their crimes or ideologies.

I hope you have a nice day<3

Hi! I’m sorry it took me a while to respond! I mean it, I’ve read this over and over, and it makes me so happy. I’ve been thinking about how to respond, but sometimes it's hard to get it out into words.

It makes me so happy that my biggest interests make others interested in it too. Heck, when people ask questions, I get all giddy!

Talking about biblical/christian saints, greek myths, history, different cultural views and changes was kind of the whole point of why I started this tumblr blog. I have so many drafts filled with random info about LGBTQ+ saints..... Now… I post mostly thirsty drawings of greek gods with hairy chests... T.T

And I sympathize a lot when it comes to religious trauma. I consider myself lucky in these matters, my mom is Catholic, and she has her views that I don’t agree with and hurtful. Yet she still supports me in her way and watching my bible retelling animatics, everytime I post a new bible animatic, she writes me: "What have you done to Daniel..."

I also have my hurts and anger towards hypocrisies too, and I guess this is my way of countering that?

LGBT content in the Bible is something that really fascinates me. I think it's important to keep in mind that people from about 2,500 years ago had very different views when it came to gender and sex compared to how we see it today. In a way, the Bible does have strict social gender expectations, and if you didn’t fit in, then you weren’t considered part of that gender. But at the same time, it acknowledges that your sex. I think it’s in the Talmud were it discusses the fact that, throughout the Bible, there were about eight genders:

Zachar: male.

Nekevah: female.

Androgynos: having both male and female characteristics.

Tumtum: lacking sexual characteristics.

Aylonit hamah: identified as female at birth but later naturally developed male characteristics.

Aylonit adam: identified as female at birth but later developed male characteristics through human intervention.

Saris hamah: identified as male at birth but later naturally developed female characteristics.

Saris adam: identified as male at birth but later developed female characteristics through human intervention.

Some scholars even believe that Abraham and Sarah were Tumtum. A Tumtum is not considered to be very distinct but rather flexible between male and female sex/gender—"sometimes he is a man, and sometimes he is a woman." The simple fact that God said Abraham had a womb and from it, he would have children. Some say that this is why he is a Tumtum, while some historical linguists argue that ancient Hebrew didn’t have the vocabulary for male genitalia yet. Both arguments are valid, and I like them both!

There’s tons of stuff I could bring up—Joseph with his princess dress, Naomi and Ruth, David and Jonathan, and the discussions around whether Daniel was a Saris Hamah or a Saris Adam. We know he was called a saris, but we’re just not sure which. And then there's Jael, whose story is filled with a lot of phallic symbolism, and even her name is very gender-neutral.

I think I’m going to end here. I could yap about these things forever! But thank you again taking your time writing to me and I hope you also have a nice day! <3

[fangdokja]

i keep rereading your yan marine corps! x fem reader. what was reader's role that she had to follow the marine's... adventure?

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where death is mercy and survival means suffering, he claims you as his, promising protection through fear, control, and a twisted love that will leave you questioning if escape was ever truly possible.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Marine Corps x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. #2 - The Devil Who Saved You

♡ Word Count. 3,153

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, descriptions of gore and human suffering, themes of violence and dystopia

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

♡ A/N. I'm glad you enjoyed it :)). I'm surprised you're rereading it a bunch. But, I guess people do technically reread anyway. Sorry, slipped out of my mind. It just makes me happy seeing underrated works get credit, whether fandom or other stories I've written. So, thank you. Anyways. Technically, this was an ask. But it's a nice idea, and I've already had it in my drafts since before. I was just postponing lore dump with Yandere! Marine Corps, due to other works. Anyways. All I knew before, in all honesty, is that it's war time. But, time to pull out the fantasy skills and world build! Wooh! And to be honest, I'm hungry to write some gore crumbs like my familiar writing style, ahh. So, here, I present to you lore backstory (well technically part of the backstory). Hope you all enjoy it (also, sorry I talk a lot in notes).

♡ Music. Levee & Brick (Down to This) by Graffiti Ghosts

The world had fallen into an abyss so deep it seemed there was no end to its descent. The wars that came before—those waged for borders, ideologies, or resources—were merely preludes to this ultimate collapse. What erupted now was not war; it was annihilation. A calamity that turned cities into craters and humanity into prey. Every shred of civility burned away in the endless fires of desperation. The air was thick with the ash of the old world, a grim veil that painted the skies an eternal gray.

You had lived a different life once, one of relative normalcy in the dwindling days before the collapse. Back then, you had a future, a purpose, something as simple and human as hope. But that had been stripped away when the world’s powers unleashed devastation so complete it birthed horrors no living creature could comprehend. Technology had become a weapon of eradication, bioweapons and nanotech turning survivors into deformed creatures of flesh and steel, feral and mindless, hunting whatever moved. Rogue factions—remnants of militaries, mercenaries, and scavengers—rose like carrion birds, preying on the remnants of humanity.

In this hellscape, survival was no longer a matter of luck but of submission. Submission to those strong enough to carve their will into the earth and impose their dominion. He was one of those few. A towering force of unyielding violence, a soldier molded by decades of carnage, by a war that had reshaped him from a man into something closer to a machine of flesh and blood. The United Corps, once a venerated military institution, had fractured into splinter groups, each operating like a self-contained warlord’s regime. He was among their best—a leader, an executioner, a strategist, and now your captor.

You were assigned to him by pure chance—or perhaps cruel design. In this new order, value wasn’t measured by money or power but by the usefulness of flesh and mind. And you had been marked as useful. Perhaps it was your background—your knowledge, your resilience, or simply the misfortune of catching his attention when your convoy was intercepted by his unit. The corps didn’t merely take prisoners; they assessed, dissected, and consumed whatever remnants of humanity they deemed salvageable.

And he deemed you salvageable.

There were no illusions about the nature of his claim over you. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t mercy. It was obsession, possessive and cruel, born of a warped sense of necessity. “You belong to me now,” he had told you in that deep, unrelenting tone, the heat of his breath warming your face even as the chill of his words froze your soul. “Out there, they’ll rip you apart for the scraps on your bones. With me, you’ll live—if you behave.”

The battlefield was safer than the no-man’s land outside his dominion. That was the most damning truth. To run from him was to dive into a living nightmare where survival wasn’t a goal but a punishment. Outside his protection, death was not granted quickly.

You’d seen it. You’d heard the screams echoing through the wastelands, watched the crude factories churn with suffering. He’d forced you to look once, pressing your face against the window of a blood processing plant as tears streaked down your cheeks. “This is what’s waiting for you if you run,” he had whispered, his voice devoid of sympathy. “With me, you’re mine. Out there, you’re theirs. Decide.”

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The smell hit you first. It wasn’t just the copper tang of blood; it was the rancid stench of rotting flesh mixed with chemicals—formaldehyde, acid, and something sour that clawed at the back of your throat. You gagged, instinctively raising a trembling hand to cover your nose, but he was quicker. His large, calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your arm back down with enough force to make you whimper.

“Don’t look away,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating like a distant explosion. “You need to see this.”

You didn’t want to see. You didn’t! But he held you there, his unyielding grip on your wrist a silent command. He stood just behind you, close enough that his breath fanned across the back of your neck, hot and suffocating.

The factory loomed before you like the mouth of some great beast, its jagged, rusted metal teeth glinting in the dim light of the sulfur-stained sky. The air outside had been foul, but inside, it was worse—a miasma of decay and despair.

The conveyor belts stretched endlessly, carrying bodies in various states of disassembly. Some were intact, their limbs hanging limply as they were dragged by crude metal hooks. Others were barely recognizable—mangled flesh and shattered bone mashed together in a grotesque parody of humanity. You tried to look away, to focus on the machinery, but even that was a nightmare of grinding gears slick with gore.

A loud, wet squelch drew your attention to a nearby station. A corpse—a woman, or at least what remained of her—was hoisted onto a steel slab. Her eyes were still open, glassy and staring, as if frozen in the moment of her death. A mechanical arm descended, its blade glinting dully under the flickering industrial lights. It carved into her chest with a precision that was almost surgical, splitting her ribcage open to reveal the organs beneath.

You felt bile rise in your throat as another arm extended, pincers gripping her heart. It yanked the organ free with a sickening suction sound, sending a spray of blood across the walls and floor. The heart was deposited into a waiting vat, where it joined dozens of others, floating in a viscous, murky liquid.

“They don’t waste anything,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, as if he were explaining the workings of a simple machine. “Every part has a purpose. The skin for leather. The bones for tools. The organs for… whatever the hell they need them for.”

Your knees buckled, but he caught you, his arm snaking around your waist to keep you upright. “No,” he hissed, his breath hot and sharp against your ear. “You don’t get to faint. You’re going to watch. You’re going to understand.”

A scream tore through the air, high-pitched and raw, and you realized with horror that some of them weren’t dead. Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, landing on a man thrashing against his restraints as he was dragged toward another station. His legs were gone, severed at the thighs, and the stumps had been crudely cauterized to keep him alive.

“Please,” the man sobbed, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Please, just kill me. Just—”

The blade came down before he could finish, cleaving his remaining arm from his body. His scream turned guttural, the sound of a soul breaking, before it was cut off entirely by a needle plunging into his neck. The liquid injected was thick and black, spreading through his veins like oil. His body convulsed violently for a moment before going still.

You turned your head, choking on a sob, but he gripped your chin and forced you to face the scene again. His fingers dug into your skin, bruising and relentless.

“This is what happens without me,” he said, his voice a low snarl. “You think you can survive out there? Think you can make it without my protection? Look at them!” He shook you slightly, as if to drive the point home. “This is what you are without me—meat.”

Tears streamed down your face, hot and shameful, as you stared at the conveyor belts and the countless bodies reduced to parts. You couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the nausea that twisted your stomach into knots.

Another scream pierced the air, this one an elder's. Your head snapped toward the sound, and your heart plummeted. A thin figure, frail and sickly, was strapped to a table, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on the approaching machinery.

“No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”

The machine didn’t care. The blades descended, and you squeezed your eyes shut, the image burned into your mind even as you tried to block it out.

He didn’t let you escape even that. His hand tightened on your jaw, forcing your eyes open. “Don’t you dare look away,” he growled. “This is reality. This is what’s waiting for you if you run.”

You broke then, sobbing uncontrollably, your body wracked with shuddering breaths. He held you there, unyielding, until you were too weak to fight. Only then did he pull you close, his grip on you shifting from punishing to possessive.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his tone softening in a way that was somehow more terrifying. “You understand now, don’t you? You’re mine. And as long as you’re mine, this will never happen to you.”

His lips brushed against your temple, a mockery of comfort as he whispered, “But if you ever forget, I’ll bring you back here. And I’ll make you watch again.”

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The battlefield stretched like a bleeding wound across the earth, jagged trenches carved into the mud and ash. The remnants of what had once been cities were nothing more than skeletal buildings clawing at the smog-choked sky. The air was thick with the acrid tang of burning fuel and the gut-wrenching stench of charred flesh. Bomb craters bubbled with viscous, oily water that gleamed under the pale, radioactive sun. It was a place where hope had been smothered, where humanity’s last breaths came in choking, gurgling gasps.

He stood before you, his shadow long and oppressive, a monolith of muscle and bloodied steel. His armor—if you could call the piecemeal, blood-streaked remains of his tactical gear armor—clung to him like a second skin, the fabric worn thin and blackened with soot. In his hand, a rifle dangled lazily, as though he didn’t need it. And he didn’t. He was a weapon unto himself, his body and mind honed by decades of violence, cruelty, and war.

“Do you remember this place?” His voice was a low rumble, scraping against your nerves like a blade dragged across bone. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore into you with a force that made your knees weak. “Where I found you?”

You nodded faintly, though you didn’t trust your voice enough to speak. Your silence wasn’t just fear—it was a learned response, a survival tactic you’d mastered in the years since he’d claimed you.

“Do you know what they were going to do to you?” He crouched, bringing his face level with yours. His presence was suffocating, his frame dwarfing your own. His voice dropped lower, almost tender, as though sharing a secret. “No, you don’t. You only saw what they let you see. Let me show you the rest.”

He yanked you forward, his grip on your wrist unyielding, and led you toward the edge of the battlefield. The ground squelched beneath your feet, a revolting mixture of mud, blood, and something viscous that you didn’t want to identify. In the distance, the ruins of an old hospital came into view. The building leaned at an unnatural angle, its walls crumbling but still intact enough to conceal the horrors within.

“You’ve seen death,” he said, his tone conversational, as though discussing the weather. “But you haven’t seen what people do when death isn’t enough. When they want to break you first.”

The interior of the hospital reeked of antiseptic and decay. The sterile smell of chemicals clashed with the unmistakable odor of rot. The walls were streaked with dark stains, their origins uncomfortably clear as you stepped over discarded limbs, the flesh marbled with gangrene and crude surgical scars.

In the first room, a soldier lay strapped to a gurney, his body contorted unnaturally. His chest had been split open, ribs wrenched apart like the wings of a grotesque bird. His heart was missing, the cavity where it had once beat filled with a tangled mess of wires and tubing. The machinery whirred softly, pumping fluids through his veins and forcing his lungs to expand and contract in shallow, mechanical breaths. His eyes were still open, rolling wildly in their sockets as they locked onto you.

“He’s alive,” the man behind you whispered, his voice a mix of mockery and menace. “Barely. They like to see how far they can push the human body before it gives out. Sometimes they even stitch people back together, just to see how much more they can take.”

You gagged, your stomach lurching violently, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face the horror. “Don’t look away,” he commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding. “You need to understand. This is what was waiting for you.”

He dragged you into another room, this one colder, darker. Rows of tanks filled the space, each containing a murky, greenish fluid that distorted the shapes inside. At first, you thought they were bodies, but as you moved closer, you realized they were something worse. Limbs were fused together in impossible configurations, heads sprouted from torsos without necks, and eyes blinked independently in faces twisted beyond recognition. The creatures floated listlessly, their expressions a grotesque mix of agony and confusion.

“Human experimentation,” he explained, almost lazily. “They weren’t trying to kill you. They were going to use you. Turn you into something like this. A weapon. Or worse—a resource.”

You stumbled backward, but he caught you, his arm curling around your waist with a possessive strength that left no room for escape. He pressed his lips to your ear, his voice a dark caress. “I killed them all for you. Do you see now why you belong to me? Why you owe me your life?”

He pushed you onward, through rooms filled with horrors you couldn’t have imagined in your darkest nightmares. A man impaled on a series of metal rods, his skin flayed back to expose muscle and bone, still breathing through a series of tubes jammed into his throat. A woman with her limbs replaced by crude prosthetics, her mouth sewn shut but her eyes screaming. People of all ages locked in cages, their bodies twisted and deformed, their cries muffled by gags soaked in blood.

“This is what humanity has become,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “This is what I saved you from. You were a prize to them. A rare find. They would’ve broken you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

You fell to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you. He crouched beside you, his bloodied hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, were filled with something dark, something terrifyingly close to affection.

“Don’t forget this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Don’t ever forget who saved you. Who you belong to. Because without me…” His voice trailed off as he gestured toward the carnage around you. “This is all you’d ever know.”

You sobbed, the sound muffled against his chest as he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was as suffocating as it was unyielding, a cage that you could never escape. And yet, in that moment, you clung to him, because the alternative was too horrifying to bear.

────────────

So you stayed.

Not because you trusted him. Not because you wanted him. But because the alternative was infinitely worse. And yet, staying came with its own horrors, its own chains. His obsession didn’t shield you from his cruelty; it only redirected it. He was a man who didn’t just command obedience—he demanded submission. Every glance, every word, every trembling breath was a reminder of your place beneath him. When he touched you, it wasn’t with gentleness. His hands were calloused and bruising, gripping and claiming, leaving marks that would never fade.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he would say when your eyes filled with defiance or despair. “You’re still alive because I allow it.”

The world outside was dead, a barren wasteland of mutilation and starvation, yet with him, the torment was suffocatingly personal. He didn’t just want your compliance; he wanted your surrender. His words were a scalpel, cutting into your psyche with surgical precision. He would pull you close, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he whispered promises of protection intertwined with threats so visceral they made your stomach churn.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, his hand resting possessively on your throat. “Every inch of you. Every thought. Every breath. Try to take that away from me, and I’ll show you what real pain feels like.”

There were moments when his control slipped, when the line between protector and predator blurred beyond recognition. He would keep you close, his body a cage of muscle and violence, his gaze piercing through your facade of composure. The way his hands roamed wasn’t tender—it was invasive, a reminder that he could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

And yet, you didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Resistance wasn’t a choice. Not here. Not with him.

The world outside was unlivable. The world with him was unbearable. Between the two, you chose to endure.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring

[the-doctor-pepper-show-archives]

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 8 (Sorry, Pt. 1) by Rachel Smythe (2017) (Found on the Wayback Machine and Tumblr)

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Hello!

Here is some more Lore Olympus Lost Media and the last found Pilot Lore Olympus Episode!

Unfortunately, Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 8 "Sorry - Part 2" is missing and is the last Pilot LO Episode before LO became an official webcomic on WebToon!

Here is a list of missing Pilot Lore Olympus Episodes:

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 4 "Embarrassed, Part 1"

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 5 "Done!"

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 7 "7AM, Part 1"

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 9 "Sorry, Part 2"

Pilot Lore Olympus Episode 5 "Done!" is the most elusive of the missing pilot episodes because, while the others have almost their full episodes here and there floating around on the web in pieces that I've been trying to put together and trying to find their full-resolution artwork, I've only been able to find 2 pages of Pilot Episode 5!

And, this is just my opinion, I don't think she posted it on her archived Tumblr at all because no matter what I've tried to do, I just don't see it. It's both frustrating and very interesting...

For now, I’m putting together most of the missing episodes piece by piece from what I can find so hopefully I can post parts of them soon!

BUT, if you have any of the missing Pilot Lore Olympus Episodes AND/OR if you reblogged them from Rachel Smythe's/Used Bandaid's Tumblr Account while it was active, let me know!

Enjoy!

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Pilot Lore Olympus: Intro

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 1 (Who is She)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 2 (Who is She, Pt. 2)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 3 (Who is She, Pt. 3)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 4 (Embarrassed, Pt. 1) (MISSING)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 4 (Embarrassed, Pt. 2)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 4 (Embarrassed, Pt. 3)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 5 (Done!) (MISSING)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 6 (Get A Grip, Pt. 1)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 6 (Get A Grip, Pt. 2)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 6 (Get A Grip, Pt. 3)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 6 (Get A Grip, Pt. 4)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 7 (2AM, Pt. 1) (MISSING)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 7 (2AM, Pt. 2)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 7 (2AM, Pt.3)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 8 (Nark, Pt. 1)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 8 (Nark, Pt. 2)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 8 (Nark, Pt. 3)

Pilot Lore Olympus: Episode 9 (Sorry, Pt.2) (MISSING)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I’ve been reading your blog for the better part of the year and it’s helped me rethink many things. This year was weird for me and I’ve been reflecting, I finally got courage to write this confession and I only feel comfortable sending it here. It’s okay if you post it. I think there are other people like me.

My Confession:

I’m an Orbit-Blink shooter who used to fight with an Army shooter daily until she died during the earthquakes in Turkey this year. I didn’t realize how much of my life and fan experience was tied to her until she died BPP. The way I got into shooting was through my Blink friend who introduced me to Loona when they debuted. At first I thought I was defending Loona and then defending Blackpink, but at some point shooting on its own for any reason became addicting. I would jump in on a ratio, throw insults and post gore and graphic images to people’s DMs for any small reason.

There was one Army shooter I hated because she was always there with screenshots or videos to drag Blackpink. Whenever there was a fanwar I knew I would see her there. And times when she wasn’t in the fight, I would use another account pretending to be an Army to tell her what was happening so I could rile her up to join the fight. I didn’t know it at the time but I loved fighting with her. She made me feel alive. The way she was passionate about BTS made me want to get some of that passion directed at me in any form.

Now, after months of reflecting, that’s what I realized. Because when the earthquake happened, I didn’t know she was dead. I kept checking her account for days, sending DMs from my fake Army profile, wondering why she was not replying. I even created a new scandal for Taehyung in our shooter group but she didn’t tweet. Then 2 weeks later her cousin tweeted from her account to say she died in the earthquake. BPP, it was like my whole life stopped. I became extremely depressed and dealt with extreme self loathing. I couldn’t look at any fandom fight without thinking about all the things I did to her. I hated myself and wanted to die. I went through that Armys profile and saw how her love for BTS was genuine. After months of therapy now I understand more why I acted like that, but it’s something I’ll forever be ashamed about.

In the depths of my depression I deleted Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. After some weeks of missing what’s happening, I got Tumblr and found your blog talking about fandom behavior. In so many ways you’ve saved my life BPP. The way I was shooting was more for other shooters than Loona or Blackpink or even myself. I realize now there’s a whole subculture of kpop shooters and I think what they have is an addiction. I notice the same things with how solo stans behave. They think they’re doing it for the idols but it’s for them and other stans they’re fighting. It creates destruction. Life is short. Why spend it on something destructive?

I’ve changed everything about how I behave online. Through therapy and reading your blog, I realize people use fandom to express themselves, and if that expression is mostly negative, there’s deeper problems with that person that needs solving. Now I curate my space and avoid shooters and fanwars completely. I now focus on what I enjoy which is good lore and good music (I still enjoy a good fight but I now satisfy this need by getting engaged in Munk Debates in my city). Loona’s lore was the reason I was interested in them, so after weeks of stalking that dead Army’s profile, I learned that BTS has lore too. I fell down the BTS rabbit hole and officially became an Army on Jimin’s birthday (after reading your blog I’m now Yoonminkook biased hehe)

I’m a very new Army but an ‘old’ kpop fan and reformed shooter. I’ve committed to live a life that’s critical and compassionate. Because of how I’ve become Army, some things I’m seeing in how fans of diff fandoms act has a different meaning to me. I still struggle with shame and sometimes when I see fanwars or see solos trending hashtags and things, I remember me from what feels like long ago. I remember that Army shooter who feels like someone I owe my life to. I remember how so much is going on in the world and we could do with more kindness but people use fandom to be awful assholes. I was one such person, attimes I still have to bite my tongue. But what I do now is log off, go do something physical and positive that makes me tired, or scroll through your blog archives.

There might be people like me trying to get away from the shooter mindset and struggling because it’s hard. It’s like an addiction. I want those people to know it’s doable. Recognizing the problem is the hardest part for real so if they are at that point, it gets easier from there.

Thank you for having this blog BPP. I hope you stay here in 2024 as well.

***

Happy to hear you’re in a better head space than earlier this year.

Take care of yourself. Really.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Not new to the Good Omens fandom but new to the tumblr GO fandom. I just stumbled across your page today and I’m like… Maggots?? Official mascot?? Incest???

Obviously I’m VERY behind on the lore and I tried scrolling down to find an explanation and I scrolled for ages but couldn’t find one.

I know nothing about you all, but you seem like a close knit family and I respect it and want to be a part of it 🫶🏻 However I should probably become educated on our family history first.

Okay. ‘Tis all. Lots of love

-Jupiter

HELLO NEW MAGGOT! Welcome. We're uh. We're really sane. Mostly. No we're not.

To reply to the points stated above:

Welcome to the tumblr GO fandom! Beware the headcanons, they will make you cry.

Maggots are my fans. The overlap with the Good Omens fans is significant, but not entire. I called them maggots because it sounded like mascot, which brings us to the next point.

Official Good Omens Mascot? Yep, that's me. I was kidnapped into the fandom and made Mascot back in January before I even watched the show. Now I have watched the show, and I take my duties very seriously. What are my duties? Uh, mainly throwing insanity onto everyone's dashes, including poor Neil Gaiman's. I feel no guilt, he chose to follow me.

Incest. Ah. Yes. Well, so everyone in my fandom started adopting and marrying each other, without exactly keeping track of the rest of the family tree. Which, as you can imagine, led to significant incest. Don't worry. It's fine.

An explanation? There isn't one. We're all confused. Including me.

Oh, we're a very close-knit family, and I adore all of them. Insanity and all.

WE WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO JOIN YOU'RE PART OF US ALREADY WELCOME!

Don't worry. No one's educated. Just don't listen when they try to warn you about the siblings, or the whalegina. And you'll be fine! COME JOIN US WE LOVE YOU ALREADY!

One thing you should be aware of, currently my son Neil Who Is Not Here, who is a bot, has been impregnated by his hamster husband. It's a time of turmoil. The babies might be Jesus.

OTHER THAN THAT WELCOME AND ALL THE LOVE

-ASMI

[fototingobug]

presenting the love of my life , Kifah Suleiman . Warning : hella yap .

I said if I got 5 likes on the original post I made for them that I would make a mini lore dump and I got 6 so 👍

Kifah is 30 during X-men 97 . Their codename is viper .

Kifah’s mutant abilities include hyper-agility , improved stealth , and the psychic ability to trap another mind in a dimension of their own making if their hands make contact with the other person’s head . Both of them will go limp during this time , as they are no longer in that plane of existence . Their physical bodies remain unharmed , and Kifah can’t hold someone there for longer than 30 minutes in the real world , but considering they can do anything to shatter the minds of whoever made the unfortunate decision of being on the opposite side as them , it could feel like years . Kifah prefers close-range combat because of their hands , but does occasionally fight with a bowstaff .

They were born to a Syrian mother and an Afro-Syrian mutant father . Kifah was born looking the way they did but did not develop their psychic abilities until they were 12 .

Kifah is intersex and identifies as agender , but does refer to themselves as transfeminine or transgender at times and identifies with the label to some extent . Their pronouns are they/she .

Kifah’s mother was unaware that she carried the X-Gene , and she was also unaware that her husband was a mutant . Her husband himself was in such denial he genuinely didnt believe he was either . His mutant ability was to speed up the photosynthesis process in plants .

TW BRIEF CHILD ABUSE AND CSA MENTION UNDER THE CUT . NOT GRAPHIC .

Kifah’s father left when she was 5 due to not wanting a mutant child . Her mother turned to neglecting them , and instead pouring all her time out into their younger brother .

Kifah’s mother eventually married another man who abused Kifah in multiple ways including physically and sexually . This eventually lead to Kifah scratching their stepfather on the face , causing him to go blind in his right eye .

abuse mentions over 🖤

Kifah’s stepfather twisted the story and made Kifah out to be an uncontrollable mutant who needed to be put down . Kifah’s mother unreluctantly sent them to live in a Christian orphanage , before they were declared too much trouble and were sent to an orphanage and boarding school in the United States where they met their best friend Molimo ( my friend’s oc , unfortunately he isn’t a tumblr user but here’s doodles of them I’ve done )

Much like them , molimo couldn’t hide being a mutant , and they bonded over that . I don’t have my friends permission to talk much about their oc right now , but if I get it I’ll update . To make a long story short , the orphanage burned down due to anti-mutant rioters , and Kifah was ‘ killed ‘ in the fire . Molimo found forge , and Kifah , was found by Fabian Cortez . Fabian saw potential in Kifah’s reality-warping and time-bending powers , and so he manipulated them into feeling as though they were in a safe position .

im getting tired of writing so to make another long story short , Kifah leaves what would become the acolytes at 16 , briefly joins the brotherhood , quits and keeps a low profile for the next 4 years , before rejoining the brotherhood and losing their horn on asteroid M during the magneto protocols . She goes on a villain arc due to this as her horns are incredibly important to her , before joining briefly with the X-men and reuniting with Molimo . After this they become more of their own character and aren’t really a part of any particular organization , school , or group , and instead makes radical statements of anti-government and anti-mutant hate groups through extremist acts of art and protest , as well as some physical assaults on government officials and police .

they were originally made for the comics but after watching 97 I think I’m obligated to make them work for 97 as well . It may change a bit to accommodate for how she lost her horn since asteroid M and the magneto protocols take place when they would be 30 , so maybe they lost it somehow else .

tldr I love Kifah and they deserve the world .

[madoyarenee]

Part of the Metal Fight Beyblade Fandom when they obsess over the ages….

Person A: Kenta is 11!

Person B: Yuu has to be 8-10 years old!?

Person GinMado Shipper: Madoka is probably 12-14 years old because I believe Ginga is the same age too. *SHIP SHIP SHIP*

Person C: The Hot characters are 16-18z

Person D: The Parents/Adults are 30-50.

Ok… ok… I think the MAJORITY of the fandom knows this fact that I will share to those who have missed it.

===================

THE METAL FIGHT BEYBLADE CHARACTERS DO NOT OWN OFFICIAL AGES!

===================

Now, to some may think.. “What about Kenta? He has an age.”

It was never specified on how old Kenta was except that in the beginning of the Manga it is said that he is a Fifth Year Elementary Student. Meaning Kenta could be 10-11 years old.

Now there is also Ryuga where we don’t know anything about his real age (obviously) but he did sleep for over a hundred years but still has the body of a teenager.

There are definitely a handful of Beyblade Fans who already knows of this information and they have to constantly repeat themselves multiple times as well as the author of Metal Fight Beyblade because some overseas fans don’t know since the Wiki is always lying half the time or can’t source it for some reason.

Now I give you an old source from 2017. https://x.com/takafumi_adachi/status/927442060520570880?s=46&t=ubWpP_NUn7F6Js9DfttsiA

===================

Full Image:

This information covers not only what grade Kenta is in but we also learned that Ginga was meant to be a First Year Middle Schooler which is 12 years old. Sadly those who are middle school students (at the time. Unsure its changed since the time has changed) couldn’t participate in the tournaments.

While yes they could have made Ginga 12 years old still and still do their fictional plot line, there’s also the fact that some kids in middle school would have looked at this and thought “I want to participate in a Beyblade tournament” but when they go to one in real life… they couldn’t.

So you can either consider Ginga being 12 and Kenta being 10-11 as canon (manga wise) but this is very likely the reason as to why we don’t know the other ages of the characters.

Note: I do see the part where Adachi said “(countinued)” and I’m pretty sure there was a tweet underneath that explained a bit more as to what the age range was to participate in the Beyblade tournaments at the time but Twitter’s Search settings are so bad that I couldn’t find the reply. Props to anyone if they can somehow find it. If memory serves me right the minimum age was 16.

===================

Sticking to Fanon Ages and Fanon Lore is so much better than waiting for the potential releases of how old these characters actually are.

Though it would be VERY NICE to at least get their birthdays/zodiacs. This post should also be as a reminder that the Author of MFB doesn’t have all of the answers since he isn’t the creator of all of Beyblade. Takara Tomy owns the Beyblade Franchise.

But if no official Birthdays/Zodiacs it would be nice to hear out the community and hear what they think the characters birthdays/zodiacs would be… even if it isn’t official.

===================

That’s it for my post. I gotta post on tumblr more often. I have another Beyblade Draft around on another blog but I can’t continue it because the Kenta’s Determination Episode makes me cringe… A LOT.

Anyways, See ya!

[definatelymrhyde]

Pssst! You! Yeah you! Do you want an OC or just a straight up Cameo in my webcomic?

Well look no further! Because we’re doing BLIMPS AWAY!!AIRSHIP SERVICES OC AND READER CAMEOS!!!

So essentially this idea came to me when I decided that I didn’t want to make up a gazillian designs for backround characters, and figured, Hey! It’s a good cameo opportunity!!

More information under the cut!

So essentially here’s what I do; I’ll section it into parts.

OC CAMEOS

OC cameos will go on the Blimps Away!!Walls of shame!! In the form of BANNED posters! Your OC gets LITERALLY BANNED FROM A FICTIONAL AIRSHIP AND AIRBUSSING COMPANY!!

Now, some guidelines.

So due to the nature of the lore, I ask for human Oc’s or Oc’s that look like only! You should submit the OC to me through one of the previous contacts I listed!

You should provide:

-A refrence photo of your little guy (Include colour swatches please!!)

-A name for them in case I have to zoom in on the BA!!AS wall of shame

-And (optional) why they got banned!!

If I do add your OC to a future panel of the comic, I will do my very best to reply and let you know!! NOTE THAT ALL OCS SHOULD BE SFW!!

READER CAMEOS

These ones are VERRRY similar to OC cameos! However, you, the reader, would appear in a crowd scene! Some people might even get a one off line! That bits only a maybe though.

Anyways! For this, in place of an oc reference sheet, I ask for one of the below methods in submitting your very own cameo:

NOTE - My one rule is that your cameo character MUST be a human or at least look like a human!!Again, same reason as I ask for OC’s to look like humans, it’s lore reasons! I also ask for colour swatches if you submit a reference drawing!

NOTE AGAIN - ALL REFERENCES SHOULD BE SFW!! NOT PUTTING THIS HERE BECAUSE I DONT TRUST YOU GUYS!! IM PUTTING THIS HERE BECAUSE ITS THE INTERNET!!

- A drawing of yourself! You can draw yourself as you wan to be shown and submit it to me!

-Your sona! How you draw yourself! I just ask for a refrence picture!

-If you have another way you’d like to submit a Reader Cameo, please contact me through discord or my gmail!

HOW TO SUBMIT AN OC OR READER CAMEO

The moment we’ve all been waiting for!! How to submit your OC or Reader cameo!

Here’s how it works, you contact me through either my Tumblr, the official BA!!AS Tumblr @blimpsawayairshipservicesoffici , my Discord (which can be found by joining the BA!!AS discord, or if you’re in another server with me!!) or at the official BA!!AS gmail which is: blimpsawayairshipservices@gmail.com !!

But if I’m being honest, I DO prefer the email or my discord!! They’re the easiest to use!!

Photo explanations and examples!

For the people who may want a sneak peak into my OFFICIAL BLIMPS AWAY ARTBOOK!! Excuse my messy handwriting.

The Reader cameo featured in these photos is of my best friend Ash, AKA, @jekyll-everything !!

And for reading this far, here’s a goodie bag!!

If you want to see any human or non human oc of yours, or even yourself banned from Blimps Away!!Airship Services, signed by the owner of the company Mack Song himself! This is the template for you!

[not-alien-girl-v]

Internet Hcs About the Evans

i don’t know. read it

warning: like everything language mentions of porn idk dont read it if ur gonna be like ew stop being lewd

Tate: Knows the fnaf lore. Specifically watched Markiplier play it and also a Sally Face fan like hardcore and kins both Sal and Larry equally. Has a Tumblr acc but it’s only to interact w fanart of fnaf and sally face and like idk follow other fan accs he’s one of those empty accs with some random ass username no posts no bio no prof pic just his name in lowercase. has a deviantart?? again doesn’t post just to look at fanart he’s really into fanart and almost gets into reading fanfiction about his various interests but ultimately decides against it cuz i feel like violet would clown on him for it if she ever found out

Kit: Has an insta but it’s private with like 27 followers and it’s all like just his family and friends and sometimes when his friends post he’ll comment something like ‘Looking good bud 👍’ and then disappears from the internet for another month or two until he gets a notif that his wife posted or something. too scared to go on twitter and i don’t blame him. for the most part he just doesn’t understand how the internet works and has no intentions of finding out so he leaves it alone. he also has a facebook but same rules apply with the instagram only ever goes on to hype up his wife and kids and sometimes friends

Kyle: frat boy sorry cuz i don’t imagine frankenkyle can fathom the internet anyway i feel like kyle gets into debates online like way too much and he sees nothing wrong w the fact that he’s like actively searching out bigots to give a piece of his mind to. he’s got a tiktok and only follows like racist sexist ppl so his feed is full or opportunities to curse someone out digitally. he’s also got a twitter thats almost been banned a lot. he’s completely anonymous w it tho and his insta is completely regular he’s got like maybe 900-1000 followers just of like his friends and frat guys from his own or other frats and a bunch of girls who asked for his insta cuz they thought he was cute even though he never replies to flirty dms. he WOULD have several white boy went fishing posts and you guys can’t argue w me on this ok i wrote too much for him. he definitely has a lot of girls commenting every time he posts and i think his brothers would give him a lot of shit for not ‘jumping on that shit’ but he’s all like ‘oh i’m old fashioned u know i’m not like that’ has an active snapchat that he adds stories to all the time but once again never responds to messages

Jimmy: he has an account on instagram, twitter, probably facebook but they’re all mostly like linked to the freak show ykwim like he’d have like a verified checkmark but he only ever posts like freak show related announcements or like every now and then a little video that he records of him and some other ppl in the show behind the scenes and it’s captioned like ‘come see us (enter date here)’ and that’s pretty much it he’s not super big on being active in social media because he claims he has plenty of friends irl he doesn’t need fake robot friends. also may not know how the internet works

James: i mean sally runs the hotels official instagram page and all other socials and he probably has no idea that she’s doing that until he finds out she posted some image of video of him on one of the accounts and then some guests recognize him at the hotel and say like ‘omg ur that guy!!’ and he has no idea what it all means n shit. I think he would get a great kick out of instagram reels like non tiktok but you know how like a month after a trend happens on tiktok then it goes to reels? right like he eats that shit up he thinks its the funniest goddamn thing like funny cat videos or someshit

Kai: right so like we all know he trolls reddit and 4chan and posts rude reviews on thatcow. the kinda guy that kyle finds himself internet battling like this is the enemy he's been preparing for. he has a tiktok to stay relevant and he's just a comment section lurker 'user17896379' type shit he just likes various biggoted comments and occasionally replies just to start fights and shit. he's got a facebook and insta where he's totally normal tho like 'hey guys vote me for senate!!' again similar to kyle but like opposite ends of the same spectrum. i would love to view his search history. searches the most despicable things on p0rn websites every time he yanks it and i just am desperate to know what shit he's looking at

[ravelintherain]

Some words on fanfiction, AO3 and imposing parallel realities on real people

Max Verstappen, the AO3 comment in the RBR video and fan culture in general.

Fan culture is not a new thing, nor even was created in the 2000s. There are tons of academic books describing this social movement that gained body, soul and mind with the advance of internet around the world due to the economic and technological development. I have studied it once to a uni assignment because I have an understand of the world around myself as a fan (from Pokémon, to K-POP, to Taylor Swift, always following the lore of something).

So being aware of fanfiction is one of the consequences of this condition. And they were created due to the great commitment of these fans to the original art, since they wanted to live in that world for more than the original one could provide them. And for art, it can be punctuated on the relationship fans have with real people. Boy bands were the first “victim” of the fictional words where they had entirely new personalities and sexuality, where they would do things they could not imagine why and/or how.

And this did not stop on the music. Everything that has fans, has fanfiction. Tumblr is a great witness of that, as well as Live Journal, and AO3. Fanfics two-decades old of artists a lot of us have not even heard about it in our yet short life spam on Earth. But they were there, marking the presence of fans in the history of fame and art. It was supposed to be ok, something harmless for those real people. But, come on, we are speaking about human beings.

Human irrationality and capitalism, hand in hand to turn the fan experience something so sick there are no words to describe it better. For the peeps who know how it works in K-POP: fans, imposed to a surreal beauty standard, are made to believe they would marry their favourite artists, so these artists should not date anyone (only their other bandmates, and in their created words based on pictures and videos quite biased).

I consumed a lot of K-POP fanfiction, even wrote it. But it didn’t stop me to be mesmerised by this anthropological phenomenon. I know the people I wrote about would never see my words, and why? Because it was all inside a bubble, in which there was an agreement of keeping it inside no matter what. These works help people to practise writing, to have a hobby, to meet new people with the same interests, this whole thing resumed nowadays on “AO3” or “Wattpad” was supposed to be a great community to share ideas and to develop hobbies and abilities in a safe environment.

However, it came to the spotlight the comment of a blessed human being in an official account of a important team of motorsport soliciting them to ask one of their drivers (which, for knowledge, is the currently world championship of said sport) if he knows what AO3 is. His team liked this blessed human being commented and now the internet (at least people who actually care) are commenting how absurd it can be to someone like him to get in touch with something like “AO3 culture”.

Public people have public personas. They trained their personas to profit based on what their target audience wants to consume. Every social individual is like that, we do exactly the same thing to our family, friends, schools and universities, and jobs. Have you ever thought that being seen as an LGBTQ+ man in love with some of your adversaries (even with a beautiful story of childhood competitiveness behind) is not part of the plan? That these kinds of people (> us <) are not the target audience?

F1 is a misogynist sport, full of straight and homophobic men. I’m not saying that the person involved and being questioned about AO3 is one of these things, but I can assure you that at least 70% of the people who buy his merch are. As a gay man, I know a few. So being part of such narrative is so bad for business… And worse, a narrative shoved down your throat that you don’t have a say on it since every word would be taken as offensive. You just have to wait and see if it doesn’t get any worse.

Then, you’re friends with this person they allegedly say you’re in love and have a secret relationship with (even having a LONG-TERM GIRLFRIEND being a HETEROSEXUAL MAN). You cannot be seen with this person since you don’t wanna to fill this narrative any more. Not because you’re against, but because you don’t wanna be part of something that it’s been out of control because a bunch of crazy people goes to your comment section to comment about it.

I’m not here to condemn anything nor no one (it would be so hypocrite…), even more considering that I’m no one to do that. But I invite whoever read this to think. Do not stop writing, or editing, or drawing fanarts, they are all forms of expressions and, above all, ART. But be careful in trying to prove something that is clearly not that deep and could harm real people, and real lives. Do not spread fan culture for people who aren’t fan. It’s fan culture, not people’s culture. Only someone who is fan will understand the pleasure of seeing a fanart, or reading a fanfic three times in a row for the micro dose of serotonin it’ll give you.

Being said that, be safe y’all and if you see any of these comments on TikTok or any other social media, primarily in main accounts, fight back. Fan culture has saved me a lot of times since I was a kid, I would HATE to see something to cause a disturbance on it (it seems it would with this AO3 thing, god help me).

Ravel.

[armorguard]

#ARMORGUARD: an affiliated bronya rp blog. marching on with mik (20, they/them/ gmt +8). standing for the preservation of life and duty. rules and portrayal notes may be found under the cut!

RULES

ON AFFILIATION: this blog is affiliated with gnostic hymns. as such, personal blogs and rp blogs not affiliated with gh will be softblocked or blocked.

ON OOC: i make a lot of jokes ooc, as well as post shitposts (tagged appropriately on this blog) please don’t take them seriously!!! none of what i say ooc is canon here in gh. i try to be very clear about what i include in-character. that said, i understand that the line can get quite blurry at times, so don’t be afraid to ask me to clarify stuff or to tell me to stop doing a bit. i’ll also be doing the same.

ON SHIPPING: i have a very specific pairing in mind so, outside of that, i'm not really open to shipping, but this can change some time in the future depending on how interactions with other muses go.

ON FORMATTING: i use small text, colored dialogue, and icons in my writing. if you have any issues with readability or would like me to change my format, please let me know! i try to know my partner’s preferences but i can (and probably will) forget so i appreciate a reminder. as for my own preferences: i prefer small text because it’s easier for me to read, personally.

ON CONTACT: i prefer discord dms since tumblr notifs don’t always work for me. my username is emblian! i am part of gh’s discord server so you may also ping me there.

ON REPLIES: i try to get back to my partners within 2 weeks. exceptions are lore events and months where i’m on hiatus. if it’s been longer than 2 weeks and i’m not preoccupied, feel free to dm me to ask about the reply—chances are i may have forgotten about it.

ON TRIGGER WARNINGS: i will use general trigger warnings for things such as gore, extreme violence, suicide, and other topics that i deem sensitive enough to warrant it. i will be using “tw // (word)” as a tag. if you have any triggers you’d like me to tag, please feel free to let me know through a dm. i also tag spoilers under “hsr spoilers”

ON HYV GAMES: i am not as familiar with genshin or honkai impact 3rd as i am with honkai star rail. i will defer to my partners for information but please be patient with me if i have lapses in the lore! i would also appreciate it if you could gently correct me on whatever i may get wrong. 

PORTRAYAL NOTES (SPOILER FREE)

i do not base any of my interpretation of bronya (hsr) on bronya (hi3). this includes any of my perception of people such as cocolia and seele. bronya is unaware of the existence of other bronya's and will be confused if you mistake her for anyone else. you're more than welcome to make that assumption, though!

bronya's current canon point happens after the trailblaze continuance mission "future market." any major changes in her continuity that may come with future updates will be posted about here.

jarilo-vi is still a heavily isolated planet, despite the current revitalization efforts going on. bronya may not know much about other planets, and i don't expect those who don't deal directly with jarilo-vi to know about them either.

related to the point above: i don't think bronya has much reason to go outside belobog right now or even do anything unrelated to her job as supreme guardian. assume that all interactions are happening in belobog under some official capacity, unless otherwise stated.

[localplaguenurse]

Ngl I forgot dottore can shapeshift(which is weird because scaramouche lore rarely slip my mind) so anyways now I can officially say dottities are Canon and anyone who says otherwise will have to pry dottities from my cold dead hands as my ghost haunts their very existence.

I’m just saying Dottore would look good in drag also I just remembered what I wanted to say about gingko trees

So the title Gold As The Gingko Trees

Gold- soft precious metal

Ginkgo trees- common symbol of longevity

Ok besides the fact that gingko leaves are golden so ha ha gold as the gingko trees ha ha get it? Gold? Like the leaf?

Next soft and precious metal aka gold, soft and precious should be obvious it’s wifey, but metal? Well that’s obviously their connection to Morax, who is the god of geo, commerce, mora, and ceo of being broke as fuck certified Amber lord with sexy eyes.

Gingko trees. Longevity. Another dot that didn’t connect until yesterday after I got shampoo in my eyes, well there’s two meanings here. First is wifey’s marriage to our ceo of terrible money management, they’ve been married for let’s round it off to 4000 years for simplicity sake and yes yada yada immortals change slow, but seriously this man and his wife are in a committed relationship for 4000 years if that isn’t longevity of a relationship and the love of one person to another then idk what is. Next Wifey’s lifespan, now I don’t remember the specifics because if I go back and read it again now the words are gonna get jumbled up and ao3 doesn’t support my accessibility settings unless I download the fic which btw can I download your fics and put them in my emergency food folder in case ao3 goes down again anyways so I’m going purely off memory here but after Morax did the sexy bite of 87 but it was consensual unlike the bite of 87 and certainly one less death. Wifey now shares the same life span (or in my personal opinion “live longer” as in Morax would erode first before wifey just because he’s so much older and therefore have more bad memories to erode him and maybe one day I’ll tell you more about Morax eroding away but this is not the ask for it rn) oh my god tumblr is lagging if this gets deleted I’ll hurl okay so yeah second meaning of longevity is that wifey gets to live longer

So yeah other than the surface level meaning of the title I also love the more deeper meanings this has and oh my god I have to conclude this before I get forced out of the app and also I went brain to fingers with no filter so excuse any mad ramblings in between

Tldr I love the effort you put into this fic have a fennec

Love is stored in the fennec fox ears.

I love your take on the title a lot! Honestly the only problem is that in canon the two have only been married for 2000 years, but that’s still a long ass time, and let’s be honest, those two would still be hand in hand when the sun explodes if they’re lucky to live that long. You hit the nail on the head with the longevity thing, but it’s also because of this one story I read about six ginkgo trees in Hiroshima. The place had been nuked, but six ginkgo trees had survived and from what I can see, are still going. They can live up to 3000 years. That’s why I had that part at the end where Zhongli tells Childe about how ginkgo trees are a symbol of hope and strength, and how they fit wifey very well. They’ve been through a lot, and they still prospered.

So the thing about wifey’s lifespan is that they’re sharing it with Morax. I didn’t focus too much on what that actually means beyond wifey will live past their human life expectancy so long as Morax is alive. It’s mainly because the specifics weren’t super important at the time, just served as an explanation for why wifey’s still around in canon time, and so I could avoid the whole “immortal outlives lover” trope because I told myself I was gonna end this nicely. I need y’all to know though that I’ve been very tempted to write something for when Zhongli begins to erode, but I have a character sheet to make for a Strahd campaign and a divorce fic chapter to get to. So yeah, maybe I’ll save it for another ask :)

Dottore would look good in drag but do you know who would look great in drag? Pantalone. I take no criticism, argue with the wall, he would be a glamourous bitch.

[lifezvictory]

Okay, so today’s (technically yesterday’s since I’m writing this post at midnight but I don’t really consider it to be the next day until I either go to sleep, or the sun comes up, whatever comes first) episode of SaMS was very emotional, to say the least. Normally I don’t write posts about those because my possibly neurodivergent brain (haven’t been officially diagnosed but I’m almost certain it’s true) doesn’t really know how to formulate coherent, smoothly flowing pros about hyper-emotional stuff, especially when I’ve recently been exposed to it. But, I have some thoughts that I have to share, so I’m releasing them into the chaotic bowels of Tumblr. (These thoughts, of course, contain spoilers for the latest episode so only click read more if you’ve seen it or are willing to be spoiled.)

So, I have a feeling that Eclipse is really, truly dead this time. And when I first got acquainted with this orange menace, I would’ve been extátic at this. I was the first time he “died.” But now? I’ve actually got mixed feelings.

On one hand, Eclipse really was a terrible person and he kind of deserved what he got. But on the other? I’m a little disappointed with the writers’ decision. Because, it felt like they had been leading up to a redemption ark for Eclipse. All this talk about him having nobody and no purpose, I just felt like it could have been leading up to something bigger. And even though I used to hate Eclipse with a burning passion, I have read two amazing fanfics that did an ark for him insanely well, and I would have loved to see the original creators of this character’s take on it. Although, there was a part of me that thought it might not go that direction because in one q & a, someone asked if Eclipse could be redeemable, to which Sun and Moon understandably denied and I thought could possibly be the opinion of the creators themselves, and not just Sun and Moon’s.

The little scene near the end of the video, with Eclipse and Solar Flare in the mindscape right before their death really got to me, especially with Eclipse’s reaction. He was genuinely terrified unlike his first version’s death, and I’m pretty sure the guy went through the five stages of grief in those thirty seconds or so. It resonated with me because it humanizes (animatronicizes?) Eclipse, showing that he fears death as much as anybody else, but it’s also relatable to me, personally, because I have quite a bit of anxiety surrounding my own death.

One thing, or rather one person that i feel like people aren’t focusing enough on however, is Solar Flare. I know many people didn’t care about them much (The Blue Guy, in his video talking about SaMS lore said that they’re basically just Eclipse’s minion which fair) but they always held a special place in my mind. I felt like there was so much possibility for their character, especially the way the lore episodes were going. They were just developing, or at least appearing to develop, sentience and a personality/identity of their own, only to be killed off along with Eclipse when they hadn’t really done anything wrong. They were only following their programming to serve Killcode when he was evil, and actually seemed to be forming into a decent person before their demise. Only for all that potential to just be wiped away in an instant, with not many people taking notice, in universe or out. Eclipse was the only person who got to know the true them, if only slightly, and he never even appreciated them or treated them well. Hell, I don’t think Solar Flare even got a single positive interaction with anyone in their entire short existence. Yet they still somehow managed to remain so well-intentioned and wise? (I have to continue writing my Solar Flare-centric fic in their memory)

In real life, death is just like that. It cuts lives short, removing vibrant beings with lots of potential (I have no clue what happens after death but I’d like to think of it as a permanent absence and not an absolute destruction for the sake of my sanity.) But, this is fiction. And there’s a point where I’d just rather not have fiction be quite this realistic and devastating, you know?

The fact that Solar Flare was so accepting of their death made it even more heartbreaking for me, personally. They were completely accepting of it, and didn’t seem afraid at all (although it could be because they weren’t yet emotionally developed enough to express it.) This, to me, meant that they had nothing left to live for, and felt as though they no longer had a purpose. And for me who, as you would know if you’ve been reading my posts for a while, likes Solar Flare quite a lot, it devastated me. I want to give Solar Flare a big hug.

I’m not sure how to end this post. But, that’s my thoughts on the latest lore. I think this was probably the longest post I’ve made to date.

[perceivedregret]

smth smth supernatural creatures au lore

i said vampire steve and now all of a sudden i have extensive lore... anyways, here's pt2 of so it goes. can be found on my ao3, user is the same over there. [tumblr link for part 1 and part 3]

birds of a feather

As suggested by beloved Hawkins Sheriff Jim Hopper who was on scene that night, his headstone will read as follows: Here lies Steve Harrington. Son, friend, hero–

“Pfft. Hero. It’s been six months and I’m still trying to figure that one out because, other than your hair, who the hell did you save that night? We were all pronounced dead, last I checked.” Robin tosses the framed newspaper clipping onto the counter, corners of her mouth downturned, unimpressed.

Steve sighs, picking up the frame to check the glass for any cracks. His eyes refocus and he reads over the list of names. He thought he’d been over it but he realizes he’d been simply trying to suppress it.

The weight he's been trying to ignore makes itself known and falls deeper, plummeting from the spot where it had settled at the base of his throat and nestles deep behind his sternum. He goes down the list that names their small circle and takes up more than half of the obituary section.

The smell of blood suddenly fills the air and he tenses. Steve follows it, but his nose wrinkles as he registers the underlying scent that comes with it.

It smells rancid and unappealing, like vinegar mixed with iron and copper pennies. His eyes lock with Nancy’s where she's perched on the counter behind Robin and for a moment he catches it. Yellow flashes across her irises when she looks up at him.

“Sorry, I need to– excuse me.” She hops down, palms facing forward to avoid touching the counter, revealing the sources of the smell. Half moon crescents that have already healed, tracks of blood seemingly spouted without a source. She closes her hands, the blood staining her nails being tucked away as she steps away out onto the porch.

He tries to tune her out, the sound of her breath catching on an angry sob making the weight fall even farther.

"Hero," Robin mutters again to no one in particular, smearing peanut butter on her toast with more force than necessary. She seems to have missed it, unaware of the intensity that was these passing excruciating seconds. Does she even realize she’s using a fork?

Steve tries to act nonchalant as he leans forward, elbows on the table. "I’ve been dead for the last, what, year, year and a half? Or– I’ve been undead, as Henderson likes to remind me. The suits only made it official that night. ‘Sides, we saved you, last I checked."

"My savior! Except we’re oh-to-three in the eyes of the U.S government since dear ole Hop and those damn suits thought it was a good idea to declare me dead along with you two. Oh-to-five, if we’re counting the other two cronies. So, technically, technically, you didn’t.

"A whole year of planning, of coordinating our attack, just for us to lose, and now we’re all dead. We have no leads of where those assholes went. It's just the three of us and these’s four fucking wall and the occasional unwelcomed gifts from uninvited guests.”

A scoff comes from across the room where a freckled arm and middle finger appears before her head peaks over the couch. "Sorry for caring?"

“Not you, Max, she didn't mean that," Steve calls over his shoulder before directing his attention back to Robin. "Unclench, Buckley. We fucking tried, okay. We tried, but Henry was two-ten steps ahead of us. Billy and Heather blindsided us with Jason and his crew. We’re lucky Carol and Andy were the only ones to actually die after all that went down, and not one of our own.”

“I know, I know! I'm just… " A tremor goes through Robin's hand, orange sparks flaring from her fingertips and the fork clatters onto the plate. It falls exactly right on a corner that the ceramic plate cracks, splitting down the center. She shakes her hands out with a hiss, a few sparks emitting with the movement.

Steve sighs, tries to be mindful as he sets the frame down but the glass shatters.

"Dammit!"

He hates this, the way he’s always having to think of his strength and speed, the untamable emotions, his insatiable hunger.

Robin groans, pressing her thumb and middle finger to her eyes. “I’m sorry. We’re siphoning off of each other’s emotions right now. Well, I'm siphoning off all of you and you're just reacting to it. Except you're heightened by, like, times a thousand. I’m just… fuck, ya know, you’d think with time I’d be over it but, no, I’m so– ugh! It should have worked! I should have been able to do it.”

Steve’s jaw clicks, trying to ignore the pressure building in his gums and the tingling in his legs urging him to run, run and not look back. He sighs, his shoulder sagging as he wills himself to calm down with the exhale. He doesn’t reach out to her, knows how an unsuspecting touch from someone like him could cause her powers, still new to her, to surge. Instead he sweeps his arm across the counter, clearing out the debris of their outburst, his palm up in offering.

Her face crumples as she takes his hand, a cold shock running up Steve’s wrists to his elbow. Then warmth creeps in, like a heavy weighted throw over his shoulders, running down his spine and wrapping around his middle. She hugs him the only way she can.

He hasn’t allowed himself much in regards to touch, at least not with someone still fragile and human since his change, too scared of what he could do if he let himself try to feel more. Always needing, wanting more.

“Why didn’t the spell work? It should have worked," she breathes into the space between them.

"I wish I could tell ya, Robs. We all do."

There’s an endless catalog that highlights all the little things Robin Buckley might not know, but never would she have guessed something like this would ever appear on it.

Two years ago Robin didn’t even know this, whatever the fuck this truly is, was even in the realm of possibilites until she was being thrust face first into it. She was picked up by the scruff of her neck like a newborn puppy and tossed into the pen, left abandoned in the crossfire of a war she had no idea was brewing in a small town like Hawkins.

She had no idea this was one of possible paths for her to encounter in what she thought was her boring, mortal life. Not a single fucking clue. She didn’t expect to become president, didn't believe she’d be the one to solve world hunger. At most maybe get out of this town.

What she absolutely positively never expected was to become a witch.

And she’s most definitely never expected for her best friend to be a vampire.

And to add insult to injury? The fact Steve Harrington, of all people, would be said vampire by her side– that she would be the one reaching out to grab his offered hand. That Steve would return the sentiment, fingers threatening to bruise from the message that grasp sends between them.

One squeeze.

I’m here with you.

She squeezes back.

I know.

She lets out a breath, one she didn't realize she was holding. One final squeeze and she frees their hands and starts a search for anything to collect their mess. She returns from below the kitchen sink, waving a well used rag and bucket like a flag.

Navigating Hopper's small and nearly bare cabin has proven to be more difficult to navigate than they anticipated when they were exiled away four days ago.

She juts her chin towards the shattered frame, dumping her uneaten toast along with the plate into the bucket. "Where the hell did the kids even get this? I feel like half the town was out there celebrating our death. That thing's borderline mint."

"Yeah, Jason's brainwashing really brought out the crazies. I don't think I've ever seen as many fireworks go off, not even on the Forth." Steve picks up the frame with a shrug, shaking out the loose glass into the bin, careful to keep the newspaper clipping intact. "Fuck if I know where they got this, though. Henderson barely said hi when we let them in. Kid's been hacking up half his stomach since."

A cackle from the couch. "Not my fault he doesn't like the way I drive."

“Still can’t believe you’re old enough to drive already. When the fuck did that even happen? Where'd you find the time?"

Robin scoffs. "What did we say about eavesdropping on conversations you're not a part of? I know this whole werewolf thing is new to you but being a decent human being isn’t. You’re human first, try to remember that."

Steve swears he can hear her eyes rolling from here. "A hut like this one? I'm pretty sure I'd still be able to hear you two bickering like an old married couple, werewolf hearing be damned."

"Well, since you want to be part of the conversation so bad, would you mind enlightening us? Where, and quite frankly why, did you guys get this?"

Max rises from her spot and joins the two in the kitchen. "Initially this was supposed to just be a small goods delivery. Joyce asked me to drop some things off, some snacks for you and Nancy, board games, the works. And, before you ask, Hop will be back later tonight with some blood bags for you. Doctor Owens is still working to make sure you have access to them without having to use your mind control thing."

"Al here calls it compulsion," Steve sniffs as Dustin finally joins them. "Hi to you, by the way."

Max shivers. "Whatever. If there's one sure positive from this whole werewolf thing, it's that we're immune to that juju. Hate the idea of not having control of my own actions…." She shivers again and rubs away the goosebumps off her arms. "Anyways, as for the clipping? Mike thought it'd be funny."

The front door swings open, Nancy coming through with her hands clean and face unamused. "Of course he would." She takes the frame from Steve and shoves it into the nearest drawer.

“Hey!” Nancy, Max, and Steve all wince at the sound of Dustin’s shriek. “Do you know how hard it was to get one of these? You’d think we never discovered accelerants the way the town was burning through every copy just because your faces were on the cover.” He pulls the frame out of the drawer with another ear splitting yell. “Who broke the glass?!”

Before Steve can apologize, the sound of a vehicle approaching makes the three tense. Nancy and Max’s eyes flash yellow and the three share a look as their senses heighten.

They weren’t expecting anyone until later that night. The phone didn’t ring twice, cut off, then ring again like it’s supposed to when someone’s trying to announce they’re on the way.

“What? Did you hear something? What?! You guys can’t just use your supernatural hearing and keep us mortals out of the loo–” Robin slaps a hand over Dustin’s mouth, a finger to her lips. She tugs at his collar and with a wave of her other hand Max gets an invisible pull as well.

“Don’t use your witchy-woo on me, I can defend myself–” Max’s mouth clamps shut seemingly without her permission as Robin continues to tug the two until they’re behind the couch, hand on either shoulder shoving them down and out of sight behind it.

They all hold their breaths as Steve and Nancy approach the door, not daring to peak behind any window curtains. They share a look and flank either side of the door and brace themselves. Nancy’s eyes flash red this time as her nails grow into claws, her sudden release of pheromones making Steve’s body instinctively prepare for a fight.

A car door slams shut, parked close enough to the cabin that even those without super hearing wouldn’t be able to miss it. They all tense as Nancy raises a closed fist. Then she slowly raises a finger as the sound of snapping twigs and branches turn into solid footing on the cabin’s front steps.

Two.

She places a hand on the door knob as the steps stop just before the door. There’s the sound of something light dropping, followed by a shoe scuffing the floor and a deep exhale. Steve perks up, because– is that cigarette smoke?

Three.

The door swings open and Nancy outright snarls. Dustin gives another headache inducing scream, but it’s cut off as the newcomer takes a step inside

Max shoves Dustin’s baseball cap past his eyes. "God, you’re such a drama queen Henderson, I swear."

Hopper enters the cabin, hands up in mock surrender with a bemused grin. “Put the claws, fangs, and magic away. It’s just me.”

[pjsk-rp-lore]

lore — the cloning machine

the cloning machine is a key item of the project sekai tumblr journey. it was first introduced as a concept from an ask between @tenma-tsukasa-official and @tsukasa-tenma-officiall. the first known clone was @tsukasa-tenma-officiall

[ note: @ena-shinonome-official and @shinonome-ena-official are technically the first set of clones, however nobody who was around at that time — not even the two enas — know who came first. for that reason, i’m simply counting neither as a clone. ]

while the first mention that explicitly labeled it a cloning machine is unknown, it’s likely that the first rui [ @rui-kamishiro-official ] was involved.

the cloning machine played a big part as it was the first device to allow for multiple people to run blogs of the same character.

it’s also been shown that the cloning machine doesn’t clone the person’s thoughts, as none of the enas use the same pronouns.

the cloning machine cloning so many people has been attributing to rui losing the device, even having creating a missing poster. it was revealed a month later that the cloning machine was in possession of one of the tsukasas [ @tsukasa-tenma-officiall ]

the aforementioned tsukasa, along with the help of @amiaaa-official, turned the cloning machine into a body-swap machine, before using themselves as the first subjects.

the cloning machine, now a body-swap machine, will swap everything excluding hair, eye and skin tones, voice, and other minor details.

[ — mod oliver ⌛️ ]