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factual-fantasy · 6 months

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27 asks! :00 Thanks ya'll!! :} 💖💖💖

Nope! Sorry, I don't take direct drawing requests or suggestions. <:/

Now I hear a few people saying; "But you've taken requests before" Now I do draw things in response to asks sometimes. But its rarely a direct request that I'm responding to. Usually its someone complimenting me on "something" and I feel so flattered and inspired that I draw that "something" again for them..

Would you think less of me if I said I legitimately was? For what I think is a very valid reason? Hypothetically of course-

@wolfie-777

:DD Oh hey!! Thanks!! Happy early Easter!! :}}} 💖🥚🥚🐺🥚💖

Oh there's no need to worry Anon, my body is kind'a forcing me to take a break... 😅

@yourstrulylightstar283 (In response to this post)

Thank you! And no worries, I'm sure I wont have to deal with all of this forever <:}

Happy late reply Friday! <XDD

@midnight193

Aww! Sweet widdol baby!! :DD

And thank you, I'm doing my best to take it easy.. <:}

Woof. That is quite the sentence to say to someone who's grieving their late wife-

Its especially strange considering that my Bowser isn't in love with Peach at all and isn't interested in replacing his wife-

I've heavily considered Louis having a crush on Ellie... 👀👀

The biggest eater is probably Louis, followed by Seafoam. Now Seafoam is no glutton mind you, he just eats a ton because he's so big and tall. He's got a lot of muscle that needs to be fed and maintained. Louis however just loves food and loves to eat <XDD

The pickiest eaterr.... couuuld be Red. Kids am I right? <XD Or maybe Spidercrab. He's rather thin so I imagine there isn't much he likes to eat. <:/ Or maybe Spidercrab isn't picky, he just doesn't have much appetite--?? <:DD

Aww! What a fun idea! :D I wonder if the game has anything like that.. and I wonder how a land animal like that would fare out on the ocean :0

(In response to this post)

Y-You realy mean all dat?.. Thank you.. 🥺😭💖

@manybrokenquills

XDD I am everywhere

(Also if you ever feel like getting those photos those would be hilarious to see XDD)

@rubyplayz12

YA- AWWWW... :(( sorry about the lost progress! I hope you catch back up to where you were pretty quick :( But YAY YOU HAVE IT BACK! XDD

A marshmallow cookie and a S'mores cookie already exist in the game :( so I shan't make my own 😔

I'm still working out the order of their ages.. So far I have decided that Ludwig is the oldest. And I'm leaning on Iggy being right below him, the second to oldest.

I'm solid on Bowser JR being the youngest, and Lemmy being right above him, the second to youngest. As for everyone else though..? I'm still trying to figure it out.

Thinking that Roy and Morton are on the older side, and Wendy and Larry are on the younger side. I just don't quite know what the order will be-

Hmm... I want Larry to be very different looking from Lemmy, maybe a bigger age gap would help. And I made Roy rather mature.. he could be older.. hmm...

Mayyybe.. in order from oldest to youngest, it goes,

Ludwig - Iggy - Roy - Morton - Larry - Wendy - Lemmy - JR..? I think I'll go with that for now <XDD

Now Bowser is complicated. Originally I wanted Bowser to be this ruthless monster. Both as a King and as a Dad.. But I made that Bowser around when the Movie trailers were all the hype. And boy, I hated how Bowser was shaping up to be. So my rotten Bowser was mostly just to make him more intimidating then the movie Bowser.

Since then I've settled down and thought that a purely evil Bowser is not that interesting.. or lore accurate. So I began to lean on him being a rather good dad, if not emotionally awkward.

....buuut then I saw the movie, and now I'm back on the Bowser hate train <XDD I guess right now its up in the air. He's not meant to be intentionally abusive or awful to his kids though. I'm thinking that maybe the gentle fatherly side of Bowser was usually brought out by his wife.. Since she's gone now.. well.. I guess he's a little emotionally absent at the least-

As strictly a King, I'm thinking that he's pretty rough. At least he's more ruthless than he may have been before. I guess a way to describe him as King would be.. The health and safety of his people are not his #1 concern. The strength of his kingdom and his position of power however, is. Though this Bowser is subject to change.. :/

XD He'd probably look like this 👇

@kaiserdarken

I'm not sure if the Pizzaplex would have decorated the place for Easter or not.. In present day or in the past.

But if they did in the past, I imagine it didn't feel much different compared to any other time of the year..

And if the present day Pizzaplex celebrates it..? I imagine its hard for the animatronics to see all the bunny imagery everywhere.. 💔

@beryl-shade

Google seems to suggest that there are no sirens in the games.. :( So Blue Beauty wouldn't be one, 😔

@hazardhazel20

Thank you!! I'm glad you do! :DD

You mean my Refinedtale Toriel.?

Man.. I'm sure she does.. (Though heck if I know what their names would be or any of that stuff-- but I'm sure Toriel would know <XDD)

Ooooo that's a good idea! :00 I haven't thought about it that way before..

@collisionofthestars-newblog

That sounds really fun actually! And normally I could see that happening.. though unfortunately, some of the structures I have set up in my AU make this scenario less likely..

For one, I intended for healing magic to be extremely complex and very difficult to master. And its intended to always leave a mark of some kind. A warning that Kamek gives to Lemmy and Iggy is something along the lines of "Whether you are healing, or destroying. Magic will always leave a scar." That's why Iggy's eyes look so strange and half of Lemmy's face and hair is discolored. The act of repairing their eyes left a mark on them..

What I mean by this, is that Kamek couldn't just turn around and heal them after every sparring session. Because it is very challenging to heal with magic and they would both be left with scars.. So they would both have to heal naturally over time after sparring. And considering that the Commander has a very important job, it would be wise to not tire him out or injure for the sake of some emotional relief.. :(

Although.. there could be a more mild version of this perhaps? Where the commander is involved in Bowser's training.? But not as his opponent. Perhaps he flies up high and chucks projectiles at Bowser for him to deflect. But not really getting involved on a way beyond that where he becomes overly exhausted or inured.

...Now for the Koopalings?? Dude, that's genius. Bowser is a hefty opponent and is sure to exhaust Commander and possibly even injure him.. But the Koopalings?? Commander would make a GREAT sparring partner for nearly all of them! :00

Specifically I can see him sparing with Morton, Roy, Ludwig and possibly Iggy. (The older Koopalings primarily) Whether its just muscle against muscle or being Iggy's target practice, I think he'd make a great sparring partner for the youngins :}}

It started with being inspired by my band-aid covered hands (due to dry hands and cat scratches) and adding them into my sona

Nowadays its maintained by me having reaaaaally dry hands 💀 (I wash them way to often/harshly and don't rehydrate with lotion often enough-)

You mean the factual fam? Aw, I'd like to think so. :}}}

Bold of you to assume Jangles doesn't have hair

@ghfhgkfngjvfnvfnvmfkf

<XD Yes, Bibi is around 2 years old-

#my response #super mario bros #fnaf security breach #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #factual fam

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spheciform · 6 months

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Sad she only got one album out before everything went to shit, but what's a girl to do?

This is a fake album cover for my dnd character, Helvia, and her fake band THREAT DISPLAY!!! Context for this piece and Helvia as a whole under the cut because once I start I can't stop talking about her <3

SO the campaign hasn't started yet, but Helvia is my character for a science fiction campaign. She's robot!!! Well I guess that's obvious now. BUT the basic gist: Helvia was manufactured as an industry-controlled and maintained electronic "punk" singer. When the project ended up making no money, everything related to it (including her), was abandoned. Three years later, she wakes up out of stasis with no clue what happened, an insane debt, and a failing memory. You will look at her !! Her full name is Helvia Cardinalis. This is just a genus of mantis it doesn't have any special meaning I just like bugs <3

-she has generated "background" memories of an entire life, but there's no telling which of those are real. I don't actually know which of them are real. My dm does!!! We'll be finding out together!!

-sometimes she uh. Doesn't know basic information. Whenever something she should reasonably know gets brought up I get to roll a flat d20 to do a "memory check", the checks getting harder the older the memory is. When she fails, she gets to lie or change the topic etc because she would rather DIE than admit anything is wrong with her.

-the album cover is kind of an intentionally really poor introduction of her character. She's more silly than anything? The entire project was meticulously micromanaged by the company that made her. The "novelty" and aesthetic of having a construct as their lead took forefront in its advertisement. There were two other members of THREAT DISPLAY!!! But she has no memory of them because they were considered comparatively SO unimportant to advertising and to her that they have gone... forgotten.

-Helvia herself is. A real character alright!!! Based entirely in what a corporation thinks a "cool alternative girl" is, she's impulsive, selfish, and just. So fucking stupid. She's firmly a "might makes right" type of person who was designed to appear counterculture but still ultimately serve and be fine with the status quo as long as it benefits her. She's going to do anything that grants her immediate satisfaction, and is obsessed with maintaining her image as "cool and above it all", even as her body is actively breaking down. She easily falls for flattery.

Notes about the piece: yeah I downloaded and used splatoon fonts for the nonsense text. I think I typed gay sex like twice I'll be real none of it translates to relevant information. I think there's something in there about how I hope it came across as an adequate parody of machine girl album covers (my main inspiration). The composition of the piece itself is meant to feel kind of skeevy and exploitative because well. It is!! It's drawing the fine line between 'wow this is so cool and counterculture of us wow!!!' and fetishistic? Etc etc missing the chestpiece as an analog for putting a woman topless on the cover. There's actually a separate sketch I did as a canonical "mock up" for the design that originally included the other members, treating them like props because they're so unimportant, before they were scrapped from the final design because they were That Unimportant.

Notes on Helvia's design: I pulled from a few sources for this!! Notably I looked at so many pictures of that band Tramp Stamps. Remember Tramp Stamps? I don't. They're like the direct analog I think to her. I also pulled from vocaloid designs!! Impractical, cool, kind of "anime" feel. This comes across most in her hair I think which is just so beautifully impractical. The yellow gloves are so stupid important to me actually they're kind of ugly but it's the only way her name ended up being important: helvia cardinalis (mantis) is Bright Yellow and raises its 'arms' in its threat display, which I wanted to pull from for potential posing of her!! So. Bright stupid yellow gloves <3 they're an easy way to tell her character apart too & mean I don't have to worry about drawing all the nonsense on her arms. The translucent skirt also comes from the mantis, sort of pulled from its wings!! Original concepts for her included synthetic skin rotting away but her design was already more complicated than I normally go for and we ultimately ended up realizing her being openly and visibly a construct was important for her image in her music career so it worked out well! She is at least missing an eyeball :] doesn't affect vision since the mechanics are still in place but I guess she just gets that fun sans glow socket <3 her outfit is meant to look simultaneously cool, vaguely expensive, but also super super cheap?? Overall I'm happy with the fact that she looks both cool and really stupidly impractical in that classic 2000s deviantart oc way <3 it's important to me! Ultimately:

#Palart #robot character #robot art #robot oc #my art #character art #art #dnd character #dnd art #dnd oc #oc: helvia #cw suggestive #? pretty. idk I've stared at this too long to know anymore #described by me #synth.solo #I think I've talked about her before a little bit but <3 she's just all the tropes I like jammed into one character I refuse to apologize #accidentally started the draft on this blog instead of my art blog so oops guess it's here now!!

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tititilani · 4 months

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Am I writing arguably my first thing in like two years for DBDA? Maybe. Do I even think it's any good? No. Do I particularly care? Also no.

This idea just wouldn't leave me alone so I banged it out in like three hours. Also fun fact, I wrote this partially by candelight because my power went out. Ambiance, anyone? I also posted this on my AO3 in case anyone wants to read this there instead. Just ignore any indiscrepancies in this, I just didn't care that much. <3

wash out the salt from my hands. 1.5 words.

Time moves differently than it does on Earth, as it turns out. Mostly pre-relationship Paineland.

He doesn’t think much of it, at first.

Charles is too caught up in relief, too relieved to have Edwin back where he can keep him safe again, to think about the weird phrasing.

“For decades.” Edwin says with a quiet hitch to his voice, more vulnerable than Charles can ever remember seeing him. He looks stripped down and vulnerable now, without the stiff bowtie and uniform that Charles is so used to seeing him in. Tear tracks mark his cheeks, cutting through the grime that seems to cover every inch of the hell pit they’ve found themselves in.

Their reunion is marred by the gruesome sounds of the last Edwin being devoured at the other end of the room and Charles can’t look too closely at the pile of corpses without getting enraged. He’s already angry at how long it took him to locate Edwin, how many times he had had to go through this loop before Charles could rescue him, but he knows where his priority lies now.

He wants nothing more than to clutch Edwin to him, stitch them together so closely that nothing could ever pry them apart again. He knows it’s not feasible (he’s checked) but he would stitch himself into Edwin’s ribcage without hesitation if it meant Edwin never had to come down to this place again. He also knows that now is not the ideal time for a big reunion, which can come after they are both safe.

“Well, I’m here now, so,” he says, pulling out a lit bomb from his bag and watching the flames glint in the depths of his best mate’s gaze.

“I have been dead for over a hundred and thirty years, after all, of course I should be the bait.”

Edwin’s tone is reasonable even if what he just said is not and he blinks when Charles levels him with a weird look because of it. Something in Charles lurches uncomfortably at the idea that Edwin should be bait for anything again, let alone a hungry beast that seems to specifically eat ectoplasm, and he’s immediately distracted away from it.

“Mate, you are not being bait. We can figure something else out that doesn’t end in you possibly being eaten.”

It’s been some months now since Charles gave a metaphorical finger to hell and rescued the other ghost but the idea of Edwin intentionally being put back in danger still scrapes over nerves that are far too raw. The Edwardian may look as though he is back to his normal posh self, all stiff bowties and perfectly parted hair but he has seen Edward flinch at enough dolls in enough windows to know he is not completely back to normal. Them managing to get Niko back was like slotting a missing puzzle piece back into Edwin’s frame but Charles still knew that there were pieces that could probably never be found.

Edwin frowns at him, fussing with his bowtie in a rare tell. “Per my books, this creatures likes older ghosts for its course – who else can we use?”

Charles thinks on the new and improved cricket bat tucked away in his bag. “I’ve been dead thirty years – should be enough to get the thing’s attention, yeah?”

“Absolutely not!”

(For once, Charles wins an argument.)

The witch is giving him the creeps.

One of her two eyes is bulging out far enough Charles is kind of worried it’s just going to...pop out. He’d try to catch Edwin’s eye but his nose is too far buried in one of the tomes the witch had given them to notice the way said witch is fixated on Charles. She seems to be mostly harmless at least, or at least hasn’t tried anything to make him reach for his bag but the way she is staring at him still has him on edge.

“Your bones are so old now but you are older still,” she tells him in a croaky old voice finally like it’s some sage wisdom and Charles just...has no idea what he’s supposed to do with that. Those books better be so worth it.

“Pretty sure my bones and I are the same age, ta,” he tells her in a voice he really hopes hides how completely bananas he thinks she is. He thinks she’s absolutely around the bend but is trying to play nice to make sure Edwin gets to play in her bookstore as long as he wants to. He’d be willing to deal with a lot worst things if it means he gets to enjoy the little sparkle that new books always put in Edwin’s green eyes.

The bulging eye bulges even more and he leans back in his seat a tad just in case there’s suddenly a splash zone. “Souls are aged by realms traveled,” she says in an even more grave tone while somehow making even less sense at the same time. He has no idea where Edwin has disappeared to in the books stacked precariously around the store but Charles hopes he surfaces soon.

Preferably before an eye falls into his lap or something.

It’s a dark night and Edwin’s head is in his lap.

There are no open cases at the moment, no one in the office, and an abandoned game of Cluedo is on the table. As ghosts, their sense of touch is almost completely nonexistent but Charles still swears that he can feel every strand of Edwin’s hair as he runs his fingers through it. He’s trying to be as gentle as he can be because Edwin deserves every scrap of gentleness Charles can give.

Edwin’s eyes are closed and that little wrinkle that is so common between his eyebrows has been smoothed away into unlined skin by Charles’ thumb. He can’t be super comfortable, his long legs draped over the other arm of the couch, but he also doesn’t seem inclined to move. Ghosts don’t have the ability to sleep or Charles would think Edwin had dozed off against his thigh.

They had been talking a little bit ago but that had faded off and for once, Charles didn’t feel the need to break the silence just yet. He has Edwin close and comfortable and safe and he finds he doesn’t need much else at this moment.

“I did not think I could have this,” Edwin murmurs finally, his tone soft and wondering. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, something Charles is momentarily grateful for. He knows that if Edwin looked up at him, moonlight in his emerald eyes, that there is nothing Charles wouldn’t do to give him anything. “A century in hell was almost worth it.”

Charles’ hand pauses. “A century?”

Maths was never his best subject in school but even he knows the difference between seventy years and a hundred years. The two of them are so tangled together on the couch that he can feel the moment tension returns to Edwin, tightening up his lanky frame and when he finally opens an eye to look up at him, he looks almost worried.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he finally says, voice hushed in the darkness of their office. “But time moves differently in hell. This last time in Port Townsend was about a decade. My first...visit was closer to ninety, I think.”

Charles’ hand spasms at that, the only thing keeping him from clenching it is the fact he doesn’t want to even accidentally pull on Edwin’s hair, even if it wouldn’t be felt. Edwin deserves so much gentleness. The sheer magnitude of how much time he had spent down in hell, fruitlessly attempting to outrun its horror, would make Charles sick if he still had a stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks finally when his urge to scream has faded. After another moment, he resumes petting Edwin and almost against his will, the other boy’s eyes slide closed.

“I did not want you to know how long I was down there,” Edwin says in a low voice. “I thought you might be angry.”

“Never,” Charles says fiercely, voice almost too loud in the quiet of their room. “I would never have left you down there, even if it had taken me a thousand years.” He swallows back everything else he wants to say, like the fact Edwin spent so much longer than even a few hours being tormented by a spider-doll demon makes Charles wish he had another doorway and a molotov cocktail or twelve.

I would tear hell apart for you. I will never let you be taken again. I love you.

He thinks it’s an okay time to say it but it lodges in his throat. Charles wants it to be a perfect time, not just an okay time. He didn’t need forever to figure out how he feels about Edwin but he has forever to make it just right. It is the least Edwin deserves.

He looks back down at Edwin to see he is already looking back and he was right – the moonlight in his eyes makes Charles want to give him anything, everything.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #paineland #chedwin #payneland #charles row #edwin payne #i have no idea what's the right ship name y'all rip #my writing #i had so many ideas and so little time for this but oh well #just me dipping my toes in

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candied-boys · 1 year

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Luke's POV x F! Reader - Part 1

Warning: Dark Content!

Including but not limited to references to prostitution, child neglect and abuse, war and death, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, suicidal ideation, and historically accurate ages for relations. The dark content is almost entirely drawn from/same as Luke's route.

Themes: protection, hurt and comfort, mutual healing, learning to trust, letting yourself feel, and eventually giving into love. Everything is written from Luke's POV.

Part 2

Your boss said you he'd make sure you get a “real good one” tonight. A bonus to go along with your promotion, if you will.

You don't actually care though.

You're just here because it's part of your job — another calculated move that keeps him in your pocket so that you can secure a position as a knight in the palace.

You don't have anything to care about anymore.

You don't have morals left either.

You're essentially dead inside.

You won't complain about getting a little relief — the only other outlet for your frustration being war games and military exercises.

You try not to take out your pent up anguish on the women employed in this wretched business, but it's easy to get a little rough when they take it so well.

You came back to Rholodite seven or eight years ago now. Being in the military meant it was inevitable that you'd have to put up with this aspect of the job eventually.

You tried making excuses that you were too young, too tired, too poor, too busy and so on, but they only worked for so long.

At some point, rejecting the offer came with consequences. Snubbing your boss implies that you take issue with his choices, and coming off as holier-than-thou is great way to get demoted.

You have too many items left on your checklist to get held back now. It's already been too many years — almost more than you can handle.

So here you sit, waiting in some ramshackle room for some sordid whore, drinking some vile shine and hoping it'll take edge off.

It doesn't.

Between your height and your drinking habits, you would need to drink half a bottle or more just to feel a buzz. In truth, you keep your tolerance high intentionally.

You can't afford to get caught off guard.

Hence you're not surprised in the least when the faint kerfuffle you heard begin upstairs ten minutes ago makes its way into the hallway and ends with the door to the room opened and slammed shut behind the girl who gets shoved in.

Tear-stained cheeks.

Pupils blown wide with terror.

Breathing shallow and ragged.

Stance defensive.

Arms curled into her chest.

Obvious rope burn around her wrists.

Swollen wounds from lashing visible beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.

She can't be any older than Leyla — sixteen at most…

Your blood runs cold.

You grab the scabbard resting against the wall and sling it over your shoulder.

Her eyes feverishly search the space for an escape but find none.

She scampers away when you approach as if she could outrun you within the confines of the room.

You don't bother taking a second glance before walking out.

Two steps and you've caught your target by the arm. No doubt she's the one who shoved the girl in.

“What the fuck is that?” you demand, pointing at the door you exited.

Looking you once over the madam answers cooly, “Your boss asked for the best we have, so I gave you the new one to break in. Is there a problem with the girl?”

“She's not the problem. How the hell did she end up here?”

The woman cocks a painted brow and replies haughtily, “The same way most of them do. Her father sold her to pay off his gambling debt. If you'd rather have a different one, we have plenty of others. You can take your pick.”

“How much did y’ pay for her?” you growl, patience running thin as your fingers begin to dig into her arm.

Snatching herself from your grip, she answers contemptuously, “What's it to you? Look if you don't want her, I have plenty of customers who do.”

“Oh, I want her,” you snarl. Out of this cesspool. “I'm takin’ her with me. So answer my question. What’s the price?”

“I'm not selling her, boy. She'll be worth a hell of a lot more over the course of a few years than the five silver coins I paid for her yesterday.”

“I don't think y’ heard me right,” you hiss and draw your sword from its scabbard. “I said, I'm. Takin’. Her.”

“Like hell you are!” she screeches behind you as you turn on your heel and slam open the door.

Shaking in fear, the girl all but collapses to the floor as you draw near.

Yanking the yellowed sheet from the bed, you stand her up forcibly and wrap it around her barely clad frame.

Too terrified to protest, the girl neither cries nor pleads.

Hiking her over your shoulder with one arm and bearing your weapon with the other you make your way out.

“You can't just run off with her! She's property of the establishment now!”

Pointing your sword at the woman, you reiterate for the last time, “Y’ will put the bill on my tab, and y’ will relinquish her to me. Do I make myself clear, Madam?”

You sheathe your sword once outside, relieved you didn't have to skewer those two drunkards she sent after you. Both hands now free, you cradle the trembling bundle of sheets to your chest.

You know that in your disgust you've been rough with the girl, but a dark road lined with brothels isn't a nice place for a chat in the middle of the night, so you make haste.

After unlocking the door to the little rented apartment in the centre of town, you set her down gently on the bed and begin stoking the few embers still burning in the fireplace. When the kindling crackles and the chilly autumn air starts to warm, you fetch the wash basin and fill the jug from the water you boiled this morning.

As you kneel level to her where she sits with her knees curled into her chest she starts frantically babbling through tears.

“I'll do whatever you want! I promise! Just please don't kill me! The other girls said sometimes the new ones don't come back, but please! I'll do anything you want me to! Just don't kill me!”

Trained to remain stoic at all times, you don't show the shock you feel at the horrific image she paints as you hear her voice for the first time. Setting aside the items in your hand, you lay your palms face up in front of her so she can see your every move.

“Hey, it's okay. Y're safe now. I'm not gonna hurt y’. Y're never goin’ back there.”

It's obvious from her trembling gaze and shivering body that she doesn't believe you.

“I'm Luke. What's your name?”

“Honey…” she murmurs, voice hoarse and cracked.

Furrowing your brow, you ask again, “No, y’r real name. Not the one they gave y’ there.”

There's a long pause. Her fearful eyes glaze over with an emptiness you're all too familiar with.

“I don't know…”

“Y’ don't know?” you catch yourself repeating as an old wound reopens inside you.

“My father always just called me girl… or more often wench…”

Terrified expressions…

Absolute avoidance…

Complete silence…

You manage to beat back the memories threatening to well up within just enough to find your voice once more.

“Alright. Honey it is then, I guess. ‘less y’ prefer somethin’ else?”

She simply shakes her head, tears still streaming down her round cheeks.

“Here. Wash y’r face.”

Pouring out the water over a cloth, you ring it out and offer it to her. A beat falls between her eyeing the item warily and unfastening her clenched fists from the linen sheet she holds so tight.

“They take y’r shoes so y’ couldn't run away?” you ask as she hands back the cloth, tear stains finally wiped away.

“Yes, sir.”

“Just Luke is fine.”

“Luke?”

“Mhm. Luke. Here. Set ‘em down and I'll wash ‘em for y’.”

Frowning at the trepidation creasing her pretty features, you quickly surmise what happened.

“They cut y’r feet so y’ couldn't get far even if y’ tried?”

You can't help the sigh that escapes when she nods and tears up again.

Sick. I hate this world and I hate living in it. God, I can't wait for this all to be over.

Standing up you gather what you need to treat the injuries and return to sit at her feet, then motion for her to drop her legs from her chest. You can't bring yourself to speak, but she does as she's wordlessly told.

As you dip her toes into the basin she flinches. As gently as you can, you scrub the dirt off with the cloth before rinsing each foot with clean water from the jug.

“They take y’r clothes too?” you ask, more to distract yourself from the nauseous feeling knotting up in your stomach than anything because you already know the answer.

“Yes. They burned them…”

With only honey for an antiseptic, you carefully coat each wound and bandage up her feet using the clean strips of gauze you keep for the rare occasion you get hurt in training. Finally, you slip a pair of your far too large woolen hose on and tie them with strings beneath her knees to keep it all secure.

“I'll get y’ some new clothes tomorrow. Just rest tonight. Y'll sleep here in the bed. I'll be over there by the fire if y’ need anything.”

From the confused and scared look on her face you know what she's wondering.

“I'm not gonna touch y’,” you tell her plainly and rise to set the jug and basin on the table.

Voice riddled with even more fear despite trying to reassure her, she mumbles, “Then… why would you buy me?”

How else was I gonna get y’ away from there without cuttin’ down somebody and causin’ a scene?

Falling to your knees once more, you pull her into your arms and squeeze her tight.

“If you don't want my body why did you bring me here? How am I going to repay you… I don't have anything else…”

No… Don't cry again… I can't take no more tears today…

“Shhh. Shhh. Y’r body isn't something y’ pay with. Don't offer that to nobody, y’ hear? Y’ don't owe me for nothing. Just be a good girl and go to sleep for now, okay?”

“I don't understand… Why…?” comes a shuddered whisper against your shoulder.

In truth you don't know either, and maybe in the morning you'll regret not simply walking out alone. But that's a thought for tomorrow.

Part 2

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen luke #ikemen prince luke randolph #luke randolph #ikemen prince luke #ikepri luke #ikepri fic #ikepri fanfiction #ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikepri fanfic #fanfiction

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09232003 · 2 years

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Floyd and Jade Leech headcanons :) Its super messy, I wrote it on a whim. Please don’t think all of my writing is like this, this is just for fun! >:6

warnings: mildly Sexual content, but no explicit mentions of sex | mentions of polygamy, but it’s not explored or meant to be taken at face value | swearing | Canon divergent and armchair diagnosing them :) I’m new to TWST, please don’t take these super seriously.

Floyd and Jade “date” you together, not in a polygamy, brother-husband way, but they genuinely, happily share everything. It’s not sexual, but you often find yourself hanging out with your “boyfriend’s brother” who’s a little too comfortable being on all of your dates. It’s not entirely on them, really, you’re not actually positive which one you’re dating either. They switch off between head boyfriend and clinger monthly. You find out years later that the other twin wasn’t “third-wheeling,” he was also on a date with you, which is why he paid for everything and tried- and failed, to hold your hand. Too nervous :(

They also talk like Akira and Ryo in the Devilman OVAs like this video when they speak privately. The voices they project to others aren’t forced, but intentionally different. Only they know each other’s true mannerisms and speech patterns. They're constantly, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Also it’s just funny. Floyd talks like Akira and Jade talks like Ryo. When Floyd hits puberty, he talks like Akira post transformation. His voice doesn’t deepen, but he embodies his more abrasive speech.

J: His corpse weighed twice as much when he died... meaning he wasn’t the only thing to die...

F: Oh my god- what do you mean he wasn’t the only thing to die?

Autistic and ADHD... on opposite ends of the spectrum. Floyd definitely picks up on social cues, but he has to remind people that his brain isn’t wired to care. :D He talks loudly about taboo subjects or says off color things, but most people find him endearing or funny. He’ll be in the mostro lounge telling Jade about his wet dreams and laughing loudly. He points at the regulars sitting at the counter and laughs like, “Haha you were there! HUHUHU like the wizard of oz!” Jade just nods and smiles. He’s lucky he’s a big scary guy because anyone else would’ve been beaten up :( Jade hyperfocuses on learning the ‘rules” of society. He’s incredibly polite because it’s easier to follow the script than deviate from it and have to face the consequences. He comes off as passive, but only in comparison to Floyd. He expects other people to know social etiquette to the same degree he taught himself. Not blessing him after a sneeze? A thousand years Jail.

Floyd is also clingy and always wants to be connected to Jade’s hip at all times. Jade can’t stand physical contact, but if it’s you... it’s okay. *defeated* SAD 4 yuu! Whatever, there is another tweel. Jade will show him something on his phone, or in a book, and Floyd will get increasingly close to test those boundaries with him. He’ll look up and realize that they’re temple to temple when Floyd starts giggling. Jade tolerates this since he realizes that Floyd is somewhat holding back, even if it’s not as much as he would like.

I think Jade is older, and Floyd’s a very minor case of big little brother. It doesn’t matter to floyd, as far as he’s concerned they probably hatched at the same time, with little difference in their individual development. Although I think Jade is older, I don't think he's smarter than Floyd, I feel like they’re both average students intellectually, but Jade can actually turn in assignments. I think he’s older because he has more mature sensibilities,

They don’t understand how some people can’t tell them apart. To them, they look wildly different as people. As eels, and other fish, the details begin to blend together, Jade couldn’t tell you where his gill ends and Floyd’s begins. As humans, it’s night and day. (And it really is, like let's be real)

They feel a deep sense of ownership over one another, and the thought of putting someone else in their dynamic makes them both uneasy. Floyd’s fear is that they’ll like Jade more, Jade fears that another person would try to pit them against each other. Unless they have equal stake in that person, they likely won’t make an effort to get to know you. :( You have to woo both of them, luckily they’re very easy to impress. He screamed when Silver gave him a hiking rope girl... It wasn’t even wrapped

Showing Jade any interest in his hobbies will make him yours. He likes mushrooms, hikes, and dolls. Floyd likes basketball, drawing, and dolls. Literally that’s all. They fell in love with dolls like you fall asleep... quietly, slowly and then all at once... They don’t collect them because whatever, but you know exactly what Jade is looking at in the Antique shop...

As for the media they consume... These girls are readers, they spend most of their time reading. Jade reads about etiquette and social customs obsessively, but it’s not fun for him. Floyd reads manga exclusively, and will have in depth conversations about any and all things manga. His favorite genre is sports shoujo, he thinks shounen is too gay. (KIDDING!! HES GAY) He likes romance, and clumsy heroines, and sultry villainesses, like his all time crush... That’s the only time his mood won’t change drastically, there’s so much to cover. He’ll ask you questions about things that are seemingly random and then bring the most depressed, ran through manga you’ve ever seen. Obviously it was well loved. He’s a walking Uquiz.... Give him a color, a quote, and a 90s pop starlette and he’ll give you a manga rec. He doesn’t care for anime though, neither of them watch a lot of tv. ADHD girls know the feeling of wanting something to just end already, and reading allows them to go at their own exaggeratedly fast pace.

“Shrimpy... would you rather be born to a parent who wanted a (opposite sex) baby and raised you as a (son/daughter) which ends up actually being okay because you pass well enough and you’re gay.. or would you rather live in a world where hamsters can talk?” And Jade enables him, “Please answer honestly Yuu-chan.”

Their guilty pleasure is otome games. They start each one by picking a ML for the other and then compare it to who they actually prefer by the end of the game. Jade is predictable, Floyd is always right about who he ends up with. He chooses them based on the traits each time... someone tall and strict. Odd. Jade is baffled how he’s never right about Floyd. He tells him that the heart wants what it wants!

This is so stewpid but I love you Jade and Floyd.

#Jade leech #floyd leech #twst jade x reader #twst floyd x reader #twisted wonderland headca #octavinelle #whatever #twst chapter 3 #twst chapter 6 #twisted wonderland #tweels #twisted wonderland third anniversary #twst x yn #floyd x yn #jade x yn

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rivetgoth · 8 months

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A Plea for CGI

I feel like the last bastion of defense for CGI as an art form sometimes dude. CGI fascinates me so much. As a kid it felt so wondrous and unlike anything I’d ever seen. The dancing bear in Teletubbies was the first instance of CGI I ever remember seeing and it enamored me unlike anything else. It felt like genuine magic. I felt similarly about Tiny Planets, which genuinely felt like it transported me to an alien world. Later on as a kid I stumbled onto the Madagascar tech reel Easter egg on the DVD and it was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. It scared me so bad I couldn’t be in the same room and I was scared to turn off the television. I stayed in my bedroom until my dad got home because I knew he’d turn the TV off if he walked in and saw nobody watching it and I didn't want to be out there until I knew for sure the television was off and the reel wouldn't still be playing. I couldn’t sleep for days after seeing it and I was literally scared of DVD menus for fear of accidentally stumbling onto something like that again. Blooper reels for CG films absolutely terrified me, it was like genuinely nauseatingly scary. The “You’re not perfect” Courage the Cowardly Dog bit was similar.

I don’t think I’m an anomaly for finding these examples scary, a LOT of people did (the former one is full of commenters saying it scared them as a kid, the latter is literally meant to be scary). But the thing is with CGI, despite that it never stopped having this sort of wonder to me as well. When I was a kid CGI still felt uncommon enough that any time it was employed it felt really magical. It felt like I was seeing into a world that didn’t actually exist. I think its ability even in its earliest forms to be implemented into live action media, or its ability to have strange three dimensional properties when used in fully animated films, gave it this sense that it could be used to bring things to life in a way that couldn’t be done before. Like, I recognized even as a kid that the dancing bear didn’t look REAL. But it also looked three dimensional. It looked almost dreamlike to me.

I think the history of CGI as an art form is just so fascinating. I remember how fascinated I was reading about the CGI of the 80s and 90s, as it began to move beyond being an oddity that computer scientists could use to demonstrate tech and found some mainstream and wider spread usage. Tony De Peltrie (1985) was the first CGI human to express emotion and objectively he hasn’t aged well, he looks super creepy as does almost everything about his short film, but it fascinates me that he was so well received and touched people’s emotions in spite of that. The human ability to connect with something so alien in every way—stylistically, but even in terms of the art form being used, which was still absolutely brand new—is so interesting. The fact that the Canned Food International Council commissioned a commercial to be done fully in CGI in 1984 and it was referred to as so realistic you “couldn’t tell if it was animated or not” when nowadays it’s surpassed by PS1 video game graphics is so fascinating. The entire implication of that moment in the history of art, advertising, aesthetic. Maybe most fascinating to me is the short series Quarxs from the 90s utilizing CGI in one of the most bizarre ways I’ve ever seen to this day to bring to life cryptobiological organisms. Really insane looking stuff using really limited technology. The creator of Quarxs, Maurice Benayoun, writes theory on virtual reality, including some really interesting stuff about the human relationship to the material and virtual world that is most definitely reflected in Quarxs.

Nowadays I turn to Severed Heads as an example of one of the most fascinating recent uses of CGI to intentionally evoke the uncanniness of older CG and bring to life the music through a visual accompaniment. “Tiny Wounded Bird” (2016) is hard to watch even as an adult, it feels like in the best way it strikes so much uncanny fear that would've ruined my life as a child. It was the first time I saw someone fully, intentionally evoke those fears in art—I think it’s so fascinating the way CGI evokes the uncanny valley so easily for so many, and Tom Ellard was clearly aware of this. Tom Ellard, the artist behind Severed Heads, has worked on the cutting edge of technology to make unabashedly uncanny art in both visual and auditory forms since the 70s.

I see people suggest the uncanniness of CGI has to do with early or pre-textured CGI looking almost corpse-like, but I always felt like it was something else, it's not just CGI People Look Creepy. I think it’s just so, so, so foreign to the eyes. It exists in a three dimensional plane that should be similar to ours but isn’t quite ours. It can emulate the human body but also contort it in any way imaginable. The blooper reels I mentioned being scared of as a kid show these fully three dimensional beings with limbs elongated far past the physical possibility of a real body, eyes popping out of the head. Shadows having to be implemented manually, AI trying to figure out how physics work for thousands of particles of simulated hair. It's sterile and it's incomparable to really anything else. CGI is an entirely new artform, unique from any other that exists. It's literally creating a whole new plane of reality. I think it should lean into that more.

I think CGI as a tool is extremely oversaturated due to all sorts of issues within the entertainment industry around the desire to rush products, the lack of unionization and worker protection, corruption from the top down causing companies to rely on it heavily in the least imaginative and most predatory ways. But that’s not the fault of CGI as an art form, which is still only a couple of decades old—Again, Tony de Peltrie, first emotive CGI human, is only about 40 years old. The first television series less than that. The first movie only about 30. This is BRAND NEW technology. We are in the earliest of earliest stages of CGI experimentation. History will look back on CGI and not view 2024 as notably distant from Toy Story’s release in ‘95. I think it’s only in the past few years that we’ve seen mainstream film really try to use CGI for something genuinely brand new—Trolls in 2016 creating an entire world comprised of textures that wouldn’t exist in such a way in real life (like felt ground, cotton ball clouds, etc), Moana (also in 2016) using computer generated blacklight and neon for the Tamatoa sequence, Into the Spider-Verse in 2018 absolutely changing the game with its use of comic book stylization that looks nothing like anything that came before it, followed by Puss in Boots: The Last Wish in 2022 implementing something similar to evoke a storybook feeling and experimenting with intentional drops in frames per second (there’s a cool video about it here that covers some of this). But these new and inventive attempts at CG, all less than a decade old, would not exist without the decades leading up to it. Terminator 2 was an extremely significant breakthrough in animating liquid. Finding Nemo over a decade later was a huge technical breakthrough for animated underwater environments. 1991 to 2003, 12 years spent learning how to make a computer animate water, and Finding Nemo looks plenty dated now. The first realistic digital fire was shown off in my all time favorite animated short, Peedee Meets the Dragon, in 1989! Only 35 years ago animating fire was in and of itself a feat! Toy Story in 1995 famously used toys as protagonists because humans were still difficult to animate—Only 29 years ago HUMANS still couldn’t be consistently animated in CGI. The Incredibles would be THE FIRST ALL HUMAN CAST that Pixar would attempt, and that was in 2004, almost a DECADE later. All the weird uncanny experimental stuff are building blocks to something so much greater than we can even imagine. I really believe that.

So like, yeah, the homogeneity of CGI in the industry right now is frustrating. The industry-standard willingness to exploit digital artists for rushed, cheap, and unregulated third party work is disgusting and genuinely abhorrent. But man, I hate seeing CGI itself shit on in the same breaths that these criticisms are made. So much fundamental misunderstanding of what it is and what it can do as an art form and such a lack of genuine desire to see it continue to evolve and progress. To be blunt a decent amount of it is just straight up nostalgia, and often very rose tinted nostalgia. “Things from my childhood looked better.” Sometimes it’s genuinely being misinformed—Tons of movies that get heralded as being traditional animation or practical effects… still utilize some form of CGI. I also think there’s something to be said about the fact that I believe the current trend of using CGI for hyper realistic effects in big budget live action films is genuinely a misusage of the medium and a complete failure to actually utilize CGI in any meaningful way (looking at you, live action Disney remakes). I love practical effects and I love traditional animation, but I don’t see why they need to be at odds with CGI. The best and most visually striking movies with the greatest visuals tend to recognize that and utilize a blend of the strengths of more than one of these mediums—Though interestingly, Courage the Cowardly Dog remains one of the only examples I can think of that uses CGI as a form of mixed media INTENTIONALLY. As in, not to look hyper-realistic or to replace/accompany practical effect or traditional animation, but to squarely be intentionally meant to be read as CGI in order to evoke a specific tone, functionally using CGI as a punchline the same way one would use live action shots in a show like Spongebob. I'm sure others have done it, but it doesn't appear particularly common.

That’s my last note: I really want to see CGI utilized more with both its strengths and weaknesses taken into account. Back to “Tiny Wounded Bird,” which makes use of the way models of the human body can be reskinned and manipulated to the point of being unrecognizable, a succinct but evocative visual theme for a song about pride and suffering. But I want to talk about another older CGI short film that does something similar, Polly Gone from 1988.

Y’all, I’m literally switching from my phone to my computer to type this out because this matters a lot to me.

EVERYONE writes Polly Gone off as absurdism. That goofy "Early CGI Was Horrifying" video writes it off as "a shitpost," which half the damn commenters on the artist's upload are quoting, annoyingly. The VintageCG Youtube account cruelly calls it "The second worst computer animation ever produced." It finds its way onto r/OddlyTerrifying and similar subreddits not unoften. You guys. Polly Gone is directed by the artist Shelley Lake, who has made this statement about her work:

"The artwork that comes from the world inside is the culmination of my mind’s eye–a fantasy world where, through my imagination, anything is possible. I enthusiastically partner with intelligent machines and together we create an artificial reality. A simulated world of superheroes, erotic men and women, wireframe meshworks, anatomical investigations, cybernetic creatures, phantasmagoric depictions of impossible people, places and things. Although these artworks often resemble our photo-real existence, these creations are utterly unreal and sometimes uncanny." (X)

She KNOWS it's uncanny. She knows it's weird. And her work is, explicitly, intentionally, and, honestly, blatantly, engaging with the weirdness of this medium to deliver messages in ways surreal, fresh, bizarre, and off-putting. I don't know what exactly her intentions are behind Polly Gone, but I would very strongly make a case for it being about women's roles in society, or at least that being a perfectly viable interpretation, especially if you do a 5 second deep dive into her body of work exploring themes about female bodies, sexuality, kink, and queerness. Her synopsis on her own Youtube page for this short is: "A day in the life of a robot." Consider watching it through a feminist lens. Consider how uncanny and dehumanized this animation is of an expressionless, mechanical humanoid--in a dress, in lipstick, with breasts--that zooms around its futuristic house doing mundane chores. Consider the name being a feminized version of the word "polygone." Consider this oddly cool OddlyTerrifying comment:

They're joking, but they're not: This is a short film from the EIGHTIES, seven years before Toy Story would be the first full-length CGI film. Shelley Lake received both a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and a Master of Sciences degree in the 70s. This is artistic experimenting from someone with years of experience, this is making use of the strengths and unique facets of computer generated animation that cannot be replicated through any other means, and it is not purposeless nor does it deserve to be written off as "a shitpost." And it's not asking you to look past the CGI limitations, it is wholly embracing them.

I want to see more CGI play with this. I think it was a mistake to veer CGI in the direction of trying to disguise it as something that it is not. I think it can work as an accompaniment to other effects, sure, but I don't think its sole purpose should be photorealistic lions emoting less than their real world counterparts singing covers of Elton John songs. I wish CGI wasn't devalued and I wish people would engage with it as a unique art form of its own.

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londonhalcyon · 9 months

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Chapter Update

Whoooooo's ready fooooor

Chapter 39!

Happy holidays, y'all! Told ya I'd have a new chapter finished later this month.

Is this chapter sad? Not at all. Will dramatic irony repeatedly stab you in the gut? Well...

Obligatory chapter preview below.

* * * *

Chapter 39: War Room The next time I was called to an Order meeting, it was to plan a battle. Technically, it was a plan with the intention of avoiding a battle, but we had to have all our bases covered. Considering the Order had intentionally kept me out of combat so far, Dumbledore’s orders, it was serious if they had decided to bring me in. After over a year of frustration, now that I actually had the chance to see some action, I wasn’t thrilled by the implications.

It was an escort mission—for none other than the current Chosen One himself. I’d never met the Potter boy despite all he had been involved in. He had always been outside my jurisdiction. Now, with both his Trace and the protections on his house about to break, the Order was pulling out all the stops to move him to safety. The plan was an elaborate game of cat and mouse, with some bait-and-switch thrown in. Tonks had hit her fellow Auror Dawlish with a Confundus Charm to trick the Death Eaters into thinking that the Ministry would move the boy to a safe house on the 30th. We, on the other hand, would move him three days earlier, without either the Ministry or the Death Eaters knowing—with luck. That was step one of the plan. Step two, in an astoundingly uncharacteristic stroke of brilliance, had been proposed by petty sneak thief Mundungus Fletcher. On the night of the 27th, we wouldn’t just transport one Harry Potter. We would transport seven. If we were found out, the enemy wouldn’t know who to hit—also with luck. Tonight was a matter of logistics. We had the bait. Pulling off the switch was its own challenge. Six fake Potters and one real one, plus their protectors, meant fourteen people going seven different directions. Fourteen people we had to keep safe, in seven different locations. It was far from easy. “Seven pairs, seven Portkeys, seven safe houses,” Mad-Eye Moody growled in recap. For him, a growl was his natural speaking voice. “We stay together, stay in formation. No one breaks until I give the order. When we do, fly like your broom bristles are burning. Only one pair to each location. Rendezvous at the Burrow. Are we clear?” “That’s all well and good, Mad-Eye,” Tonks said. “But I think it would help if we knew where we’re actually flying.” “I didn’t think we had seven safe houses around Surrey,” Fred Weasley said. “Or anywhere,” George added. “Not anymore,” Arthur said, prompting a dark look from Molly. “It’s an obstacle,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his deep voice, “but one we hope to resolve tonight.” He drew attention to the large map spread out over the kitchen table. “Alastor and I each have a place to offer up, and Arthur managed to convince his Aunt Muriel to host us. That’s three. We need four more.” Tonks said, “Use my place.” While Remus said, “I know a hideout, if you’re willing to brave a flight to Soho.” “Up to five,” Kingsley said, adding to the map with a tap of his wand. “Two more. Anyone else?” The room exchanged looks. One by one, each person shook their head. I said, “Nothing south of Scotland.” In other words, nothing close enough. It wasn’t completely true. My parents were based in Southampton, but I wasn’t about to give them up. They were much older than Arthur and Molly—and Ted and Andy. They didn’t belong anywhere near a fight, no matter what protections were in place. Merula crossed her arms, reclining against the wall. “Throw some wards over an old castle,” she said. “Plenty of those abandoned. Minimal security.” Kingsley traced the map with his wand. He nodded. “It may be our only option.” The Aurors crowded around the table to study the map, as did Remus, Bill, and Arthur. Everyone else hung back, if only because there was no room to join the deliberation.

#the mad witch #hphm #hogwarts mystery

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ipsen · 10 months

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Blank Canvas 18

Read on AO3. Words: 4886 Summary: Apologies, truth, and Touka's mean right hand. Chapter 17 Chapter 19 Master Post

How could Sen have been so blind?

She had to have slipped up somewhere, but when? How? Did Shachi or Kuzen rat her out? Was there a leak that she hadn’t noticed? Each was its own possibility— Shachi’s heart was too big, Kuzen was a survivor, and she wasn’t exactly sure of everyone she had who was gathering information on V, but there were far more reasons for all not to betray her or Haise. Which only left—

She stopped right before the door to Haise’s apartment.

— Donato. Shit. It was obvious now. Working with that guy, a member of the unpredictable and chaotic Clowns, had always been like navigating a minefield. He was the only one whose interests lay with himself alone, meaning he could be convinced by V. Not even his affection for his son could trump a lifetime of greed. Donato’s alliance with Sen had always been a matter of convenience, where she could exercise his selfish revenge while he was stuck behind bars.

Knock, knock.

However, whatever he’d told V, they ended up going for Haise instead of her, which meant they wanted something. As for what, there were a number of things: her books, her connections, her findings— All were thorns in V’s side, and restricting any would do wonders. But what would they be doing now?

The door opened, revealing Hina. “Hey…” she said, a little uneasily.

“Hi.” Sen kept her voice neutral, not wanting to alarm Hina any more than she already was.

Hina stepped aside. “Um, come in… Hide’s still out, so we’re just waiting.”

Sen stepped through and kicked off her shoes. It was a surprisingly nice and clean apartment, far different from her own. Lots of space, too, what with the kitchen and living room separated by tile and carpet, then what appeared to be two bedrooms and the bathroom in the back. If only she could appreciate it under better circumstances.

Ayato and Touka were sitting on the couch on opposite ends. He, upon seeing Sen, opened his mouth, but Touka beat him to it. “Coffee?” she asked, moving to the kitchen.

Sen, after a moment, nodded. “Sure…”

While Touka searched the cabinets for the kettle and beans, Sen sat in a chair at the counter, feeling Ayato’s eyes on her back. Hina entered the corner of her vision and took a nearby cup of water.

Once upon a time, Sen might not have even shown up here, let alone entertained Hina’s call as long as she had. Time passed, people left, she used to say, especially after Papa’s death and Arima’s transfer. Much how you outgrew things as you got older, people tended to outgrow or outright ignore Sen as she went through the motions of life. That was just how she had seen herself.

But things were different now. Miza and Naki supported her. Tatara and Fei befriended her. Shiono was a caring father. The Bins worked splendidly for her. And Haise was— he was just— he—

Sen sighed, a smile playing on her lips. It seemed as though there were some things even a scribbler like her couldn’t describe. This must be how Haise felt whenever she asked him to express his thoughts about her; though she preened with satisfaction, there was something to his countenance that suggested he had more to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “About the get-together, about what I said— For everything that happened, I’m sorry.”

Hina tittered. “I-It’s really not a problem, Ms. Takatsuki. I think—”

“It is a problem,” she interrupted. “You’ve all known Kuzen for a long time, and it was insensitive of me to trample on that the way I did.”

The kettle began to hiss as the water inside reached a boiling point. Hina thumbed her glass of water. Ayato intentionally looked away, staring at the muted TV. Touka, with practiced ease, ground a handful of coffee beans.

“He’s hurt me a lot, in more ways than one, and I’ve learned he’s— I know he’s hurt others in worse ways.” Sen picked at the hangnails on her fingers. “It felt wrong letting him enter without saying something, so I… Look, I botched it for you guys, and I’m sorry.”

There was silence as Touka poured the coffee. She slid it across the counter to Sen, who took it with a quiet thanks. Ayato glanced over, sensing that she was done, and Hina took a sip of water.

“I…” Hina searched for the right words. “I don’t want to say that you were wrong. You were… You weren’t ready for him to appear when he did, and you were caught off-guard. At least, I think so.” She looked up at Touka to continue.

Touka sighed and put her elbows on the counter. “I’m sure you remember I was next in line for Anteiku’s manager?”

Sen’s mouth became a thin line, and she nodded. She remembered putting two and two together as they talked at the get-together. The way Touka danced around both her aspirations and her job— having to make a choice between them was tearing her up inside far more than Haise made it seem.

“Well, I was also recently accepted into the Chigyou School of Medicine, for their spring term. If I chose to go, and things went awry for Mr. Yoshimura at the wrong time, then Anteiku might very well shut down before I can come back. But if I chose to stay, then I’d be giving up my selfish dreams to keep up the place that helped me and Ayato at our lowest.” Touka traced a circle on the counter, as though she were running back and forth between the two choices.

Sen took a sip of the coffee. It was really good, she had to admit, even without the sugar she personally liked to take. No wonder Touka could be manager, if this was anything to judge it by. Ayato, for his part, pursed his lips at memories she’d never know, but she could take a guess from her own.

Touka suddenly stopped, and pushed herself from the counter. “You took that choice away from me. With what you said, I felt like I had no other option but to take the path that was best for me, and not for Mr. Yoshimura. Because otherwise, I’d be someone willing to play dumb for the sake of feeling good about myself. I’d choose to do nothing.

“Hina’s right; you weren’t wrong, and Mr. Yoshimura shouldn’t have hid his skeletons in his closet from us for as long as he did. However—” Sen grunted when she felt Touka’s fist collide with the side of her arm— “have some class next time, okay?”

“O-Ow…” was all Sen could say.

“Sis and I totally get having beef with shitty dads,” Ayato said from the couch, amusedly watching her nurse her new bruise. “We really do, but she’s right.”

“Always am.” Touka chuckled. “By the way, how’s the coffee? I usually make sure the two oafs that live here have the good beans, but, well— you know.”

Sen smiled through the pain. “It’s good. Really good. I almost feel more guilty.”

Touka smiled back and almost said something else, but just then, the doorbell rang. She went over to answer it, and Hide was revealed. “Welcome back.”

“Hey, guys. You—” He paused when he saw Sen. “Oh. Hey, Sen.”

The corner of her lip curled. “Hide.”

Haise’s famous— or rather, infamous— little source of information along with Chie. An information smuggler that traveled the world and collected dirt on all sorts of organizations that could be taken down a peg or ten. She was honestly shocked by how lucky she was; because of Haise’s little slip-up on how he acquired Donato’s files ahead of her, she was able to piece together the identity of someone who had, until now, kept it completely hidden.

And oh, how Hide knew that she knew. The moment he paused at Nishiki’s, where they met in person for the first time, he had known. The Scarecrow was outed, at last, by sheer dumb luck.

Her smirk faded; much as she wanted to squeeze more information out of one of her most anonymous and valuable sources, there was something far more important at hand. “Do you know where Haise is?” she asked instead.

Hide cleared his throat, appreciating it. “Well, no, but I mean, I brought someone.”

He pushed in a familiar figure on a wheelchair. Frail bones, thin white hair, and gaunt cheeks that clung to their last vestiges of life. He was dressed in familiar black leathers, with a fedora atop his head.

Kuzen Yoshimura, her father, a shell of his former self.

Sen took the time to, finally, really look at him. This barely functioning old man was who she had despised all this time? This… thing in front of her, declining in real time, was the cornerstone of her revenge?

Even then, however, her anger wouldn’t disappear overnight. She doubted it would disappear at all; Kuzen had twisted and altered her circumstances against her will, and even if good came out of them, it was by her hand and not his. She had climbed out of the muck he poured onto her out of spite, and she would do it a thousand times over to remind him of his failures.

And so, she sighed, glared, and asked the obvious question: “Why are you here?”

———

“I-I’m sorry.”

That was not the first thing Haise expected to hear when he came to.

His hands were individually bound to separate chains, and there was a dim light to give him some semblance of his surroundings. He tested out his bonds, and saw a rusty chain mechanism a few paces away struggle against him. His feet were free, at least.

Then, when he looked up, he saw the driver, sitting in a creaky wooden chair. He wasn’t just tall; his limbs were far longer than his torso needed them to be. His hair was a tousled black, with dark circles under his eyes and gaunt cheeks. He wore a loose collared shirt and torn jeans, both colors faded with time.

“H-H-Hey, Mr. Kaneki,” he said, waving. “I’m, uh… I-I’m Karao Saeki.”

Haise didn’t answer immediately, instead darting his gaze around to see if there was anything he’d missed. No such luck. “Where am I?” he asked shakily.

Saeki tittered. “That’s a little, er, c-c-complicated. Y-Y’see, m-my boss—” His phone suddenly rang. “S-Sorry…” He answered. “H-H-Hello? Yes, I have him… N-No, he’s— he’s totally fine!! I-I-I used chloroform…”

Haise listened to the conversation quietly. It seemed that, for now, he was safe; whoever Saeki’s boss was, they needed him alive and unharmed. That was a load off his shoulders, but the next question became: why him? Was there something he knew that they wanted? Was there some one? The possibilities were endless until he could glean something, anything about these people.

Saeki’s conversation continued. “S-So, M-Mr. Kaiko, what should I—?”

‘Kaiko’? As in Kaiko Industries? As in V? Wait, could Haise even make that assumption? If this was V’s doing, then why target him? He was completely useless; wouldn’t it have been better to target Sen? Then again, the idea of Sen in the same situation was worse; he should just be grateful she was (hopefully) free. She could continue her work, continue helping people who deserved help, and not waste her time with people like him: burdens who treated mines like eggshells, never caring for the consequences. She probably— no, she definitely hated his guts now, as she should.

Sen— no, no, Takatsuki had infinitely more important things to think about than him. Hopefully, his drafts of the last few pages were enough; he’d hate to be more of a burden than he already proved himself to be.

Saeki clapped his phone shut and stowed it away. “S-S-Sorry, Mr. Kaneki,” he apologized again. “B-Bosses, right?”

Haise, not wanting to take his chances, decided to nod.

“W-Well! Make yourself c-c-comfortable, because you might be here a w-while…” He twiddled his thumbs.

“Why… Why me…?” Haise asked cautiously.

Saeki flinched slightly. “W-Well, um…” He seemed to grapple with something internally, then relented. “Well, o-okay, you d-d-deserve to know… T-T-To save you from the d-details—”

———

“They promise the safe return of Kaneki,” Kuzen, settled in, said, “once you stop your investigation of them.”

Sen scoffed. “That’s it? That’s all they want?”

Kuzen pursed his lips. “It is an obvious choice, no?”

“Obvious— are you fucking kidding me?” Sen stamped her foot down. “Sacrifice everything that I— that we’ve— worked on these past ten years for— for one person?!” Even as she said it, her heart twisted in agony. “That’s the best they can do, huh? I— I can’t even begin to imagine—!”

“What are you talking about?” Touka interjected, stepping in between them. “You know the people who have Sasaki?”

Ayato came forth. “What the fuck did you get him tied up in?!”

“G-Guys—” Hina began.

“Did they kidnap him because of you?” Touka’s voice shook. “Does he even know about—”

“Touka, Ayato,” Hide stepped in, “let’s take a breather, and—”

“You’re awfully calm about this!!” Touka whirled on him, all but grabbing him by the shirt. “Our best friend has apparently been kidnapped by some— some group we know nothing about, and the reason might be right in front of us! Why aren’t you—!”

“I just think that antagonizing Sen isn’t the play here.” He put up his hands in defense. “Look, we’re all in this together to try and find him, so—”

“So you’re just gonna let her keep secrets from us?! Real good ‘working together’, pal! Are you fucking—”

“I’ll talk!” Sen said, turning all eyes on her. “I’ll talk… You deserve to know.”

She carefully left out the part about Hide being the Scarecrow, but laid out the basics of V, as well as her and the others’ involvement in exposing their deeds. Kuzen hung his head slightly the further she went, especially when she mentioned Ukina. It was a small consolation prize.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Touka muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, so a secret government lobbyist organization, who works with serial killers, has Sasaki because you—” she jabbed a finger at Sen— “are getting too close to ‘exposing’ them?”

Sen nodded stiffly. “Yeah.”

“You realize how stupid that sounds, right?” Ayato complemented Touka. “Just ‘cause you broke some laws, he’s gonna pay?”

Another nod. “Yeah.”

Hina was the only one who didn’t seem phased when she spoke. “Ms. Takatsuki… Are you going to stop?” was all she asked.

Sen curled her fingers into a fist. “I… I can’t stop,” she said, wanting her tongue to betray her just this once. “I’ve… We’ve come too far to stop now.” She trembled. “I won’t— I can’t choose him, even if I want to.”

And she did, desperately so. She wanted to choose Haise over everything and contradict her own words. Her lungs longed to cry out in protest, to throw everything away for him, because now that she’d felt the warmth of the sun, she wanted to bask in it forever.

But there were people besides her who were a part of the investigation, and they were people who put so much on the line. Now it was her turn. Ugh, she was the worst.

She bowed her head as low as it could go, as if it would absolve her of her sins. “I’m sorry.”

Silence, as her decision hung in the air and everyone digested it. It was likely that none of them would ever see Haise again. That lovely person, full of boundless kindness, would be forever lost to the world. No one would ever see him smile, laugh, or cry ever again.

Touka reacted first. She walked up to Sen, pulled her up by the collar of her shirt, and punched her square in the jaw, knocking her to the ground.

“Touka!” Kuzen shouted as best he could, but it went ignored.

Ayato and Hide had to grab her by both her arms before she could advance. Hina, meanwhile, helped Sen up and checked for lasting injuries.

“Fuck V,” Touka breathed. “But fuck you too. I don’t care what the hell you’ve ‘discovered’ or whatever, but you don’t just give up like that, you hear me?!”

Sen, leaning on Hina, massaged her second bruise for the day. “It isn’t that,” she muttered.

“Then what is it?!” Touka ripped herself out of Ayato and Hide’s grasp. “Don’t you care about Sasaki?! Don’t you— Why are you just letting him go?!”

Sen bit her lip, trying not to tremble.

“That look on your face makes me sick, you know that?” Tears welled in Touka’s eyes. “Thinking you’re making the right choice, that this is all for some ‘greater good’, and maybe it is! Maybe, if you let Sasaki die, we’ll all eventually be in a better place, but I—!” She raised her fist again, but let it hang at her side instead. “I don’t care. I won’t care until we try something else.”

It was a pretty thought; when you didn’t like your choices, force a new one that did. However, Sen had made her choice years ago: she would fight. And whenever you fought, blood would spill. The blood of the innocent, the blood of the guilty, and worst of all, the blood of your loved ones.

She simply hadn’t realized how much the latter would hurt. “Say we did try something. What would we try? Where would we even start?” She hated the question as soon as it left her lips. “We don’t even know who—”

“He is with the Torso,” Kuzen suddenly said.

It was like dropping a bomb. The name hovered in the air, taunting all who recognized it. Hina’s eyes widened in horror. Hide, Ayato, and Touka swallowed. Sen thought she’d heard incorrectly. Did Kuzen— did he really just—

“He is with the Torso,” he repeated, his grip on his armrest like iron. “I do not know where, but… that is who is with him.”

“Torso…?” The word was practically foreign on her lips. “He’s with the…?”

“He’s with the Torso…” Hide mumbled, putting a hand on the side of his head. Suddenly, he gasped. “H-He's with the Torso!!”

“Uh…” Touka looked mystified.

Sen, instead of explaining, joined Hide with the same realization. “Yes… Yes, he is!!” She laughed, her heartbeat picking up with hope and her stomach flipping. “The Torso!!!”

They jumped up and down together, cheering and whooping and confusing everyone else.

Ayato palmed his face. “Are we just gonna be lost all day?”

Sen ignored him and grabbed Hide by the shoulders. “Nashiro. Did Nashiro leave anything behind? Please tell me she—”

“She did.” Hide nodded enthusiastically. “All of his hiding spots, every single one!!”

“Um, excuse me!” Hina got their attention. “What’re you two talking about?”

“We’ll explain later,” Sen said, pulling out her phone. “But right now— Ayato, call Tatara and tell him we need men. Hide, give him the addresses; he’ll understand. I’ll get Miza, Naki, and the Bins.” She called the first of their numbers. “Miza? Miza, it’s Sen. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy— really, I know— but I need a favor—”

According to Nashiro’s final investigation, Torso had a number of hideouts spread across the 13th and 23rd wards. Tatara and his members of Chì Shé would cover the ones in the latter, while the former fell to Sen and the others. But there were still some places that needed to be covered.

“Is there anyone else that could help us?” Sen asked. “We need tough people, able to kill a man.”

Touka, who caught on quickly, snapped her fingers. “Apes & Dobers! I’ll call Kaya.”

“Great! Hide?”

Hide scrambled for his phone. “Kimi’s got a few rowdy volunteers; they’d break the law!”

“Hina?”

“I’ve, um… I could see if Mr. Banjou knows anyone!”

Calls were made, groups were assembled, and addresses were passed around— all in service of finding one artist who, apparently, could move mountains without even trying.

Then, just before she left, Sen glanced at Kuzen one last time. “Hey.”

Hesitating, he looked up at her.

“Thanks.”

She didn’t stay to see his reaction.

———

The next few days were spent in an odd cross between dread and comfort. Even in the face of his inevitable doom, Haise couldn’t complain about how he was being treated. The chains on his wrists weren’t going to come off anytime soon, but he was given limited space to roam until mealtime.

As for Saeki, he was a strange man. He didn’t talk much, but Haise sort of preferred it that way. He’d never been one to converse with strangers, especially if said strangers were working for lobbyists with a penchant for kidnapping and killing anyone who disagreed with them. Less talking usually meant less trouble, and it was paying off.

However, despite being fed regularly and never being touched, Haise knew it was only a matter of time before he was killed. Takatsuki wouldn’t come for him; he would have to try to escape himself. The problem was that he didn’t even know where to start. Besides some beams holding up the ceiling, he had nothing he could grab.

Then, one day, things changed.

Saeki came in at the expected time, but there was no meal in his hands. Instead, he made straight for the chain and yanked on it. Haise was forced against the wall, then secured when Saeki slotted a rusted nail into the chain.

When he stood over Haise, the neutral politeness he had exerted in both the taxi cab and over the past few days was gone. Haise swallowed.

“Y-Y-You knew,” Saeki seethed, teeth gritted, “didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Haise was confused. He knew something? What did he supposedly—

Saeki’s foot suddenly plunged into his stomach, evacuating all of the air from his lungs.

“Y-YOU KNEW, D-DIDN’T YOU?!” Saeki repeated, much louder this time. “You sick fucking freak— you knew! YOU KNEW!!!”

There was a scene in The Metamorphosis that suddenly came to mind. Gregor, having been locked away for some time after his transformation, left his room and incidentally frightened his mother, causing her to faint. Because of that, Gregor’s father stood over him, much like how Saeki stood over Haise now. After a moment, Gregor’s father pelted Gregor with fruits, with one of them lodging permanently in Gregor’s backside and beginning his spiral into useless, wretched death.

When Saeki kicked Haise again, he felt his kinship with Gregor renewed.

Haise gasped for breath. “What… What are you…?”

“About ^%*’s scars!! You knew she had them!!” Saeki kicked him twice more, hitting the solar plexus with deadly precision. “M-M-Mr. Kaiko told me!! So why didn’t— why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you keep that away from me?!”

Takatsuki’s scars? How had Saeki found out about that? She was always so careful about concealing them; she’d only ever shown them to him, as far as he knew… Had she lied to him? Had she simply pitied him and shared an open secret? Just his luck, and just like him. Always ignorant to others, and only thinking of himself.

Still, in the face of that ugly truth, he fought for his life. “I… I didn’t know…”

“LIAR!!” Another kick, this one to his head. White flashed across his vision. He thought he heard something crack. “YOU’RE A MAN, AND SHE’S A WOMAN!!! WHAT ELSE CAN YOU DO BUT LOVE HER?! WHY WOULDN’T SHE TELL YOU?!”

Another kick, then another. The face, the chest, the diaphragm, the legs, his face. It was a familiar feeling. Haise couldn’t even begin to decipher why this was happening, not with his head throbbing and breath straining as they were. As the assault continued with no end in sight, Haise shrank away, and Ken Kaneki, a small and pathetic child, rose back to the surface.

His ears rang. His jaw was sore. His head throbbed, pounding and deafening the room with pain.

Kaneki remembered begging for his mother, his aunt, and his uncle to stop, but they wouldn’t, and so he stopped begging. Stopped asking. Stopped being selfish. He patiently endured the slew of words thrown at him, existing to be hurt so that they could stop hurting. He was alone, and so he endured alone.

“I-I-I’ll teach you a f-fucking lesson!!!” Saeki yanked Kaneki up by his hair, making him yelp. “T-T-Teach you to— to KEEP ME FROM MY PRIZE!!”

He slammed Kaneki into the wall, forcing the nail in the chains loose. Kaneki’s world spun from the impact, but he definitely heard Saeki’s last claim.

Takatsuki was going to be his next victim, which meant this was—

“Shit, shit…” Torso muttered as the nail rolled uselessly on the floor. “S-S-Stupid thing, c-can’t even stay on right…”

Kaneki, slumped against the wall, looked up as Torso fiddled with the nail.

Tragedy was a thing born of inaction— The hero succumbing to their flaw instead of overcoming it; a poison being allowed to spread in a lake until it is wholly undrinkable; a small group of greedy people seizing power and then treating people like toys. Over and over, as a result of ignorance, arrogance, and bystanding, tragedy struck like a knife.

Torso pulled on the chain and tried to put the nail back in, but he dropped it and swore.

Kaneki’s thoughts turned to Takatsuki, as they so often did. Specifically, they turned to her stories. Though dense at first glance, he’d come to realize that not only were they deeply personal works, but they were also warnings. Warnings of inaction, warnings of standing by and doing nothing.

After this, whenever it was over and Kaneki was dead on the floor, Torso would leave and pursue her. She’d end up just like Nashiro, Mr. Yasuhisa, and Ryouko. Another notch on V’s belt, next to thousands upon millions of others. For each one, Kaneki had been helpless to stop, always at mercy of the great flow they forced upon others.

Torso secured the nail, tested it a few times, then cheered in triumph.

Ka— Haise wouldn’t allow it. He would protect Sen, no matter what. If he was going to die for her to win the fight against V, he would take any of her enemies down with him. It was the one thing he could do, the one thing he should do.

“N-Now,” Torso stood over him, raising his fist, “w-w-where was I…?”

Haise curled up against the wall like a cornered animal: wounded, afraid—

The nail snapped in two.

— and unpredictable.

The human jaw, supposedly, is able to exert up to 125 kilograms of force.

“FUCK!!!” Torso screeched, and stumbled backward with one hand clutched to his head.

More than enough to tear the human ear off.

“F-FUCK… FUCK!!! Y-Y-Y-YOU BIT ME?! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!”

With all the strength he could muster, Haise grabbed whatever parts of Saeki he could. Cheeks, ears, throat— anything to cause pain, anything to cause death. Even as Haise’s wrists burned themselves on his wrist, he had to do this. He had to kill Torso because it was the last thing he could do. He would die, and Sen would be free. He would help her, he would—

However, it was a brief encounter. One moment, Haise was reaching for Saeki. The second, he saw a flash of silver from the corner of his vision. The last, he felt unbearable pain crossed from one of his temples to the next. His vision went dark, and he collapsed on his side.

“Bastard… BASTARD!!!”

What happened? Why did it suddenly go dark?!

Why couldn’t he see?!

“The last thing he saw was the door of his room being pulled open, his sister was screaming, his mother ran out in front of her in her blouse—”

Something wet tickled his cheek. A liquid. What kind of liquid? Something smelled metallic. Something sweet. Like honey. Was honey supposed to be like lava?

“W-Wait… Sh-Sh-Shit! Shit shit shit! Did I—?! Oh, no no nonono—” Saeki’s footsteps stumbled out of the room. There was rummaging in a distant room. “B-B-Bandages, bandages—! Can’t let the hostage die—!”

“Aah… Augh…!”

Stumbling again as Saeki returned. “C’mon, pick up pick up pick up—! PICK THE FUCK UP!!!”

“— stumbling over the skirts she pushed herself to his father, her arms around him, uniting herself with him totally—”

“H-H-Hello?! Mr. Kaiko?!?! Hello, hi!!! I-I-I need bandages sent, r-r-right now!”

“— now Gregor lost his ability to see anything—”

“Treatment, medicine, a-a-anything! I-I-I’ve made a mistake; I’ve damaged him! B-By accident!!! BY ACCIDENT PLEASE!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

“H-H-H-He bit my ear off, okay?! I-I-I panicked!!! Shit— Please, please, I just—”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU!!!”

He couldn’t see oh no he couldn’t see he couldn’t see he couldn’t draw he’d never see Sen again and

he was as good as useless she was going to leave he was going to be alone it was his fault

“— her hands behind his father’s head—”

how could he—

A crashing sound. Familiar, light footsteps, like a storm breaking through the windows and doors. Saeki’s voice.

“WH-WH-WHO—?!”

“— begging him to spare Gregor’s life.”

#blank canvas #writing #hehe font playing

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canonically-a-genloser · 1 year

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"you're not my homeland anymore"

title from "exile"

Sneeg, Charlie, and Ranboo were exhausted.

None of them had slept in what must have been days. Even Ranboo had nodded off a few times, though they jolted awake every time they leaned against something because of the searing pain that would immediately engulf their senses.

Sneeg intentionally hadn't processed the escape yet, spending most of his time going between all three of their wounds left from their last show to make sure none of them would get infections.

To Charlie, though, every mile further away from Showfall was another mile between him and home. And what about Randy, what if there was still a way to save their dad and they'd lose it if they left his corpse in that building, he questioned in his mind, though he never would have said it out loud. Charlie knew he trusted Sneeg with his life. He always had. That couldn't change now, right? Not for anything-

"Time to go," Sneeg said out of nowhere, and Charlie jumped. He nodded at Sneeg before the older could say anything about it, though. Questioning averted. For now.

"For now" only lasted until Sneeg stopped a couple hours' drive later. Ranboo had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, carefully cushioned on the few ragged blankets Charlie had managed to find in the loft bed despite its being hardly a crawlspace big enough for him. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

"I can tell you're thinking about something," Sneeg said bluntly, forcing him into the present once more.

"No, I'm not, I'm just tired," Charlie said with more of a petulant tone in his voice than he'd meant. It wasn't entirely a lie, he supposed he could argue if Sneeg tried anything.

Sneeg shot him a look that made Charlie's resolution to keep that lie going dissolve entirely.

"Alright, fine, I'm just not- not great, man! Alright? Is that what you wanted to hear? I thought it would be fucking obvious-"

"Talk to me, then."

Charlie stopped in surprise, looking up at Sneeg. He paused for a moment.

"You know what? No. You already know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Charlie couldn't fathom why or how Sneeg appeared so calm. Why he was being so patient. Charlie was panicked and tired and he didn't even know where to start. He was scared for Ranboo, yes, but he wanted to go home. As selfish as that was, he wanted to go back. At least at Showfall, they could have gotten reset and none of the trio would be hurting anymore by now.

He realized he must have said something out loud, because Sneeg looked him in the eyes a second later.

"You know in the end, everything would just get worse. I know you do," Sneeg said. There was no emotion in his voice, but his eyes betrayed him to Charlie. Charlie, who had known those eyes longer than he'd known how to say his own name. Charlie who could have seen the faintest flicker in his brother's eyes and known when something was deeply wrong. Like it was now.

"You wanna go back, too," he spat at Sneeg. "Don't even lie to me."

Sneeg huffed. "So what if I do," he said defensively, looking away from Charlie.

The damage had already been done.

"Then why-" Charlie laughed, almost hysterically- "why are you upset at me for wanting to go back?"

"I know what this is about, okay? Showfall didn't love you, Charlie!" Sneeg interrupted him. "Sure, you were the favorite our entire fucking childhoods, but at what cost? Don't you realize what they did to you because of that, Charlie?!"

"Well, what do you know about what they did? Huh?" Charlie retorted, his tone biting. "They never loved you."

Silence fell over the dimly lit kitchen as though it were a graveyard.

"I shouldn't have said that," Charlie's voice finally said, sounding smaller than Sneeg had ever heard it.

"No, you're right," the older said, a fake smile plastered across his face as he looked up. "You're right. I know they didn't. That's why I carried my boyfriend's corpse around for who knows how many years. That's why they killed the only two people who ever fucking cared about me. That's why I was a fool for thinking you would be any different, then or now. That's why I tried to kill both of us, I thought it would change something."

Charlie did remember. He remembered the way Sneeg had loomed over him, knife in hand. He remembered the way he hadn't retaliated, partially because he knew the drones would save him before he fully died but partially too because he did feel guilt for Showfall's complete refusal to acknowledge Sneeg's existence. He remembered wondering if this could somehow atone for everything he'd ever done to Sneeg as white-hot pain shot like a firework through his small body. He remembered the look of instant regret on his brother's face as he backed away in terror. The drones had gotten him a moment later, just before Charlie's vision and any further memory of the event faded out.

Charlie sucked in a breath, swallowing thickly as though that would make the memory leave. "Sneeg, I- I'm sorry-"

" 'Sorry' won't bring Randy back, Charlie," Sneeg blurted out. 'Sorry' doesn't fix over ten years of being abandoned by your own brother."

"I know, I- I know," Charlie managed out. He didn't know what else to say, though he knew it was the wrong thing before it even left his mouth.

Sneeg seemed to recognize that in Charlie's expression, and he finally looked down in defeat.

"Charlie, I'm tired," he finally admitted.

Charlie was already hugging him by the time he closed his eyes to take a breath.

"I hate you," he told Charlie, wrapping his arms around him. A chuckle interrupted Charlie's sobs for a few seconds because here, at the end, they both knew he didn't mean it.

Finally, Charlie pulled away. "Ranboo could- could probably use some company," he pointed out, wiping his eyes. "Why don't you go lay down for a bit. At least try and rest."

"You too," Sneeg insisted. "They- they won't find us out here," he said softly.

The younger nodded, knowing without looking that Sneeg needed the company too. Whether to be sure Charlie wouldn't leave or otherwise, he was too tired to decipher.

Still, Charlie figured, wherever Sneeg was was where Charlie himself was meant to be, for good or bad.

And if Sneeg meant to find a way to live without Showfall, who was he to refuse him that after everything?

#aimsey writes about genloss #i'm so tired this took an hour and a half and it still looks so rushed 😭😭#i Promise i will look at it later but i really really wanted to write charlie and sneeg angst #some of the dialogue came to me in a Vision and i had to get this down #i don't think? there's any triggers?#a little talk of corpses but i think it's fine-#anyways here yall go YIPPEE my brain is so tired

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gryffinwall · 2 years

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The Five Hills I'd Die on for Girl Meets World

Soooo, it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything. I fully intended to get this up on the blog at least a month ago, but you know how it goes. This has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, so without further ado, I present to you the five hills I will die on when it comes to Girl Meets World. In (mostly) no particular order:

Lucas picked Maya originally

I’ve written about this in the past, so I won’t spend a ton of time rehashing everything. But to this day, I am fully, completely sure that Lucas originally picked Maya in Upstate. Go back and watch that scene with the perspective that he was going to pick Maya, and then watch it again with the perspective of him picking Riley. See which one tracks and which one doesn’t. It was Maya, 100%. If nothing else, that smirky, flirty expression Lucas has on his face when Maya grabs his shirt is a dead giveaway. That is not the face you make when you’re about to reject a girl for her best friend.

Of all the hills on the list, this is THE hill I will die on if I could only pick one, that’s how strongly I believe it.

Riley & Farkle were endgame

The above may be my number one hill, but this entry isn’t too far behind. I know I’m not alone in believing that had the show been renewed, even for one more season, we would have seen a development in the Riley-Farkle relationship. Throughout the show, and especially in the third season, we see Riley and Farkle have a deep connection, a much deeper one than she has with Lucas (and deeper than what Farkle has with Smackle. Yeah, I said it!). They truly, deeply, genuinely love each other, and based on what we saw in the third season, it looked like the writers were setting it up for them to develop romantic feelings as they got older. In Boy Meets World, Topanga’s dad admits he used to be scared that he’d find Topanga in the basement (i.e., making out) with Shawn but realizes it was Cory he should have been afraid of all along. My hunch is that we would have gotten a similar callback had the show gotten renewed.

There are also some fascinating parallels between Topanga and Farkle, and I’m totally sold on the argument that he is the Topanga of GMW, not Lucas. But that’s another topic for another day.

The girls’ friendship was actually kind of toxic

We can all agree that the Rilaya friendship was one of the best parts of the show. They loved each other, supported each other, and would do anything to help the other out or spare their feelings. However, they each did something to the other that was ended up being pretty hurtful.

Riley, of course, is largely at fault for getting Maya to believe that her (Maya) growing up, maturing, and wanting to be a bit more responsible was somehow a bad thing, something that needed to be “fixed.” Maya was finally embracing hope and taking herself more seriously…and Riley put a quick stop to that because it “wasn’t her.” Oof. It ended up reverting Maya to her season 1 self, which is not a place Maya really wanted to be.

Maya, meanwhile, was the co-founding member of the Riley Committee, which sheltered Riley from life’s harsh realities and disappointments to the point that her growth was stunted. Despite Riley being a smart girl living in New York City, she apparently had no idea about war, poverty, homelessness, famine, etc. Maya and the others made sure her feelings were protected – they didn’t tell her about Pluto losing its status as a planet because they knew she’d get upset - but it resulted in Riley being immature and naïve to the point of being ignorant. Not a good look.

Neither girl had malicious intent; in fact, they both thought they were in the right to say and do the things they said and did. They would never do anything to intentionally hurt the other, but it ended up happening anyway. I would have loved to have seen this get addressed on the show, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Girl Meets Belief is a super interesting insight into all dynamics of the core four’s relationships

Full disclosure, the original draft for this post ended up being significantly longer than it is currently, and it’s all because of this hill. It made me realize that I want to write a separate post about it, simply because I find said insights so fascinating. So I won’t go into too much detail right here and now. All you need to know is that I think this is a crucial episode to the series since it explores the relationships between our main four so perfectly. We see every iteration of the characters paired up together, and we see why every dynamic works the way it works. Idk, I’m kind of obsessed with it, and I will have more on that soon.

The story wasn’t finished

My last hill, and it’s a big one: I don’t think the story was finished. And not in the sense that it got cancelled somewhat unexpectedly; I mean that I personally think had the show gotten renewed, we would have seen some of the stories from season 3 come back in a future season. I wholly believe we were going to come back to the “Maya became Riley” story and find out that she, in fact, did not become Riley, that Riley was wrong about all of this, and that it was a simple case of Maya growing up. And that while Riley has undoubtedly been a significant influence on her, Maya did all the work herself to become a better person.

I also believe it was going to get revealed that Riley and Lucas didn’t act like a couple for a reason. They were going to learn the important lesson that perception of a thing doesn’t make it so, particularly when feelings are involved. In other words, they were going to find out that their sweet seventh grade crushes didn’t translate to genuine love between two teenagers – and that’s okay! Their lack of chemistry and lack of seeming like an actual couple, to me, was a pretty big hint that there was something more going on beyond “bad writing” and Disney channel restrictions. A shame we’ll never know for sure, but this is my gut feeling on the matter.

And there you have it! If you have any hills you’d die on, send them my way, I want to hear them. Hope you all had or are having a wonderful holiday season, and cheers to 2023!

#girl meets world #girl meets belief #riley matthews #maya hart #farkle minkus #lucas friar #girl meets upstate #they are endgame #gmw

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malwarechips · 9 months

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im gonna ramble about little details in my rw designs that i like a lot hold on

spears has sun's marking on the back of their neck !!! and theyre also intentionally designed to be like! the slugcat version of uncanny!!! their ears rest pointing up by default when to every other slugcat that's a sign of aggression!! their snout is just a LIIITLE too long for a slugcat!! THEY HAVE FOUR EYES . not to mention the lack of a fucking mouth but thats a canon thing

SAINT ISNT EVEN A SLUGCAT . THEYRE THE ANCESTOR OF SLUGCATS. THEYRE A PIPESLUG. THEYVE BEEN HERE FOR SO LONG THAT THEIR SPECIES HAS EVOLVED AND PROGRESSED BEYOND THEM. ONE OF THE REASONS THEY CANT THROW SPEARS IS THEIR HANDS ARENT ADVANCED ENOUGH TO GET A GRIP. ONE OF THE REASONS THEY CANT EAT MEAT IS THEIR TEETH ARE FALLING OUT DUE TO THEIR AGE . KARMA FLOWERS WILT AROUND THEM .

riv is based on an otter !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and they have a squid beak !!!!!!!!! theyre just a little wet freak !! maybe i'll even give them cuttlefish pupils !!!! (dude i want to do that now) their hands and feet are webbed and they have a fucking DORSAL FIN like a FISH

this is more of a headcanon than a design thing but THE REASON INV'S CAMPAIGN IS SO FUCKED IS BECAUSE THEYRE LITERALLY CURSED. THEY ENTER A REGION AND IT JUST SPONTANIOUSLY FUCKS UP AND GOES BACK TO NORMAL WHEN THEY LEAVE . YES IT IS CONFUSING AS FUCK TO EVERYONE ELSE PEBBLES WAS SO FUCKING CONFUSED .

NIGHTCAT'S WHISKERS LOOK LIKE SHOOTING STARS . ACKNOWLEDGE THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEAAAAASE PLEASE . I AM SO PROUD OF IT I LOVE IT SO SO SO MUCH

monk is just a banana :) they have little spots!

GOURMAND ! HAS !! LITTLE CHIN TASSLE THINGS !! KINDA LIKE !!!! SNAILS AND SLUGS . LITTLE GUY! !!!!!!!!!!!

HUNTER HAS A PEARL ON THEIR EAR LIKE AN EARRING ! ITS A DATA PEARL FROM SIG THAT'S JUST SOME BASIC INFORMATION ABOUT THEM IN-CASE THEY SOMEHOW WANDERED TO AN ITERATOR UNRELATED TO THEIR TASK . also their scars are blue because imevil

ARTI . ARTI .F UCKING ARTI . ARTI IS ROUNDED. HER SCARS ARE POINTY. BEFORE HER SCARS SHE WAS VERY ROUND BUT NOW SHES VERY ANGULAR BUT ONLY ON HER SCARS ITS JUST MOST OF HER IS SCARS . TO SHOW HOW HER PERSONALITY HAS CHANGED . SHE'S GOTTEN SHARPER.

survivor is just purple and i like that. thats all really .

sig tore off the main part of his antennae in an act of defiance against the ancients and you can still see the very base of them !! he still has the proper base like the little round part but he also has little sticks coming out of those that were originally what his antennae were mounted to !!!!! also he has little purple accents outside of his clothing and scarf bcz yaay purple yipee yahoo

suns is meant to look kinda like a dragon because why not !!!

wind's antennae are like a little cartoon gust of wind !!!!!

pebbles and innocence have very similar antennae because theyre both gen 3 iterators !!!!!!!!!!!

OLDER ITERATORS HAVE MORE VISIBLE JOINTS THAN NEWER ITERATORS AS THE ANCIENTS SLOWLY LEARNED TO COVER THEM. FOR EXAMPLE MOON IS VERY VERY VISIBLY A ROBOT MEANWHILE PEBBLES KINDA JUST LOOKS LIKE HE HAS SKIN . THE ONLY VISIBLE MECHANICAL THING ON PEBBLES IS THE ARM AND HIS ANTENNAE . and also he has vents on his side all the iterators have that i felt like it

ok i think im done now

#rw #lev.txt

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mutedeclipse · 9 months

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something that bothers me sometimes, as a semiprofessional character designer.

hot take: mermaid bomber from jetters is much better designed than bomber mermaid from online, a tumblr post from an idiot with too much free time... below the cut!

intentionally inflammatory title and thesis statement aside, i have strong opinions and i hope to be heard out here

lets start with the first thing i notice people have a problem with, her colours. the warm green/cool pink used in her design are complementary and don't compete with other characters of similar colour ranges. while i do agree the softer salmon, cooler green and yellow toned orange of bomber mermaid have a more pastel and harmonious appeal... mermaid bomber (i would assume) is coloured the way she is to be clearly visible on an older television and through compression.

pictured above, an example of her being clearly visible in a distance shot, bomber mermaid could never

SURE they may clash at times especially outside of the lighting of a scene, but looks gorgeous in lighting that complements her. lighting that would also render bomber mermaid's colours nigh indistinguishable from the backdrop of any given scene

an example of a scene with extreme lighting i think would be a detriment to bomber mermaid's colour scheme.

I'll admit the sheer amount of colours are a little unnecessary its quite in line with the other characters on the show. ESPECIALLY the other shitennou who are eye catching on purpose for reasons that feel like it further serves the 'they're different from other combined bombermen and don't quite belong' narrative. Mermaid bomber looks like a whole ass character, bomber mermaid strikes me as much more 'villain of the week' with a cutesy spin

moving on to her structure as a character... her design was made to have a DISTINCT silhouette!! both do, actually... but the online portrayal feels quite generic in comparison to jetters' while still following shape language its loose, doesn't indicate much shes a bomber first and foremost. mermaid bomber's design follows the philosophy of what i will call a teardrop type character (a combination of triangles and circles) giving her a quite regal, even cunning edge to complement her round and cute features... which I'd say fits her character well. shes a spoiled daddy's girl princess who uses her cute charm. her much more overt femininity ALSO is important to this fact, its how she gets her way!

the scales on her limbs resemble arm and leg warmers respectively (quite popular with teens at the time) the latter of which popularly being worn with miniskirts, her skirt like fin reminiscent of a pleated skirt. her prominent amount of scales remind me of sequins. hell, her whole vibe REEKS of y2k in incredibly subtle and unique ways its so beautiful now that I've noticed it.. this inherently bold sense of fashion distinguishes her from other female characters (such as misty or shout) on the cast, her tall stature distinguishes her from other bombers.. the only other main character bearing a shadow of resemblance is young momo! which i find neat for a couple reasons I'm sure you could deduce yourself.

her fin on her back makes her look much more dangerous and reminds you that shes meant to be a weapon, along with her belt and much more mask like face shape. along with the sharper points but these details are subtle enough to overlook from an in universe perspective

screenshot from whataboutfractions, seriously guys she has a tail too and it rocks.

i was going to add thunder but the making of this post was so long, i feel like he gets a lot less flack for his design and i wanted to express my love for character design today, that and point out to people who probably agree with me why mermaid's design is important.

#bomberman #mermaid bomber #bomber mermaid #bomberman jetters #bomberman jetterz #character analysis #design analysis #im kinda bad at this but i hope my point stands

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poisonwaterlily3 · 2 months

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Started listening to The Magnus Archives earlier this summer. I am now halfway through season four and it is impossible to stifle the urge to write, especially horror, using this particular frame. And I also have no self control when it comes to not sharing things I've made so... (additionally, the particular institute and Archivist reading this and any future statements I write are unspecified)

A Humble Garden

Statement of Robert Mildew regarding the snakes around his home. Statement given on December 23rd, 2012.

I... okay maybe this is a weird place to start, but what do you know about the ouroboros? Well, it's a symbol in alchemy and in Egypt and a lot of other things. It has a lot of meanings depending on who, where, and when you ask. It can mean the harmony of the physical and spiritual or the passing of time or death and rebirth. I didn't used to think much of it but now... well I see it every time I blink.

I have this garden, right? Just a dainty little hobby I thought I'd take up when I moved back to the states here. Pretty modest thing and that's fine, I don't mind it. Yet modest as it may be, it seems that all of nature has become bent on making it as difficult for it to survive as possible. There's been floods, there's been droughts, one time an entire carrot just up and vanished. Yeah, I counted four carrots one day and then two the next! No hole where it could've gone missing or dig marks from a hungey animal or anything. I suppose something with more power than I has marked that poor four by four square for death, hah! The most recent attack er, well the second most recent now I guess, was an infestation of these terrible little mites that just tore things up. I feared I may have used too much pesticide, but after almost five months of those little buggers... well I had no choice but to empty the last third of the can in one day. It didn't seem to have any ill effect on the produce when it came time to eat, though I sure was worried it had I'll tell you that much!

But those events in particular aren't what brought me to your institute, not really. Not too long ago, I checked up on my garden and found a snake in it. Now of course that's nothing special on its own, it was just a measly garden snake after all I've found a dozen of them in my garden up until then but... it was autumn. Not just that, it was late autumn, practically winter. I was decked out in a rather warm outfit which meant I could continue checking up on my crops with no fear of being bitten but... well it's so odd right? A snake in early winter and it didn't appear dormant at all, just lively circling my garden. And it was then as soon as I realized truly how odd that this snake had appeared out of nowhere to slither laps around some vegetables that it stopped. And it stared at me.

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a snake? I doubt you have. It's weird you know, like you're looking dead into the eyes of another being just as intelligent and sentient as you who has intentionally, very deliberately chosen a life dedicated to killing. I stared into its eye for quite a minute, neither of us moving, until I realized that it did not have the eyes of a garden snake. No, those have always had those big round eyes that made me love when I received a visit from them. This one had the eyes of a rattlesnake. Something that meant me harm. I wanted to back away when I realized this, thinking I had misjudged, but it's gaze just petrified me, kept me planted there like the, well, plants in my garden.

Well while I had this brief staring contest, I ended up letting my mind wander until it itself happened upon an older snake-related memory. My father must have taken me to a sort of reptile showcase. It's a vague memory, really. Part of me wants to say it was a random stop during a long road trip but that doesn't really make any sense. Regardless, we park, hop out of the car, walk over and the next thing I remember was staring at this woman, the guide and maybe a snake handler. I don't remember much about her, though I'm certain that whether an 11 year old me thought she was pretty will surely be a hotly debated subject for your organization's top researchers.

Regardless, one thing that did stick in my mind was her rather fitting tattoo snake tattoo and this, I do believe, is what I stared at her for. The tattoo ended at a tail on her middle finger and crept up her arm with such a meandering pace that my eyes felt like they too slithered just following it. Does an image have a pace? Well, that one most certainly did, there is no other way to describe the delicate, foreshortened detail of it, though maybe that too is an inaccurate description. Still though, my eyes followed the tattoo up her arm, her shoulder, down under neck in a way that made it appear like a necklace before ascending back up her neck and eventually ending with an open, wide, fanged mouth ready to bite down on the corner of her jaw.

Looking at her tattoo filled me with this deep dread, like everything I knew would just vanish the moment I reached the end of it, but I just couldn't help myself. I found myself looking deep into the eye of the tattoo. Suddenly I was back in my garden, the snake now gone and the winter wind chilled my bundled body. I admit I was concerned that I had no idea where the snake had gone—I'm sure you know that feeling when you lose track of a spider—but I was all bundled up and despite that, felt cold and scared, so I decided my work was done for the day and headed inside. Winter crops have a way of enduring better anyway.

I returned to my garden the next day and would you believe it if I told you that same snake was there? A garden snake that had the eyes of a hostile rattler. Looking at it gave me that same sense of finality, of something that cannot be avoided anymore, something terrible that had slithered its way into my world. I did my work though, albeit with trembling hands, and made sure to leave it its personal space, all the while I tried not to trigger another staring contest. Then it was there the next day. And the next day after that. I felt a bit relieved that it had become somewhat routine in a way, just having a weird little hybrid snake friend in my garden. I named him Buddy.

The day after that there were two Buddys. They were identical, both of them circling the garden in perfect unison like yin and yang. Around and around, back and forth. It made my stomach drop. I stared at them on my porch for a little while, unsure of what to do about this, if there was anything to do at all. It was just two snakes. Two really weird snakes out in the middle of winter, but is that really all that big of a concern? In hindsight, yeah sure it is but when you're standing there, dumbfounded and with no idea of what's about to happen you just don't know. Regretfully, I found myself too much of a coward to do my usual garden work with them there so I ultimately turned back inside.

The next day there were three. The two from the day prior continued their circling and I noticed some shifting out of the corner of my eye. There was another Buddy in one of my trees. At this point I hadn't even stepped foot outside, just looking out my kitchen window when I saw them. I decided not to tend my garden that day.

The days after that were worse. Four, five, six, nine, thirteen... it became harder and harder to count as time went on. Eventually I just gave up and decided that the elements had won; I was not going to reach my garden again this year. Every day, I'd just stand at my kitchen window and look out at all of them, the wriggly little things and... the worst part was how they all just stared at me. All of them except the ones which chose to circle my garden like an ant spiral. I never saw them move their heads though, so I can only guess that they all just spent their days staring directly at my window.

I think it was around this point that my devices started to go all wack. It started with my laptop for my job. I work online and thank goodness because my commute would just be too long for it. Side effect of living out in the woods I guess. That and snakes. Still though, once my laptop decided to stop working I had no choice but to email my boss and request an early Christmas. He's a good one as far as bosses go and let me off. I felt terribly bad for him, but I felt I had bigger things to worry about.

It was awful. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how I'd even begin to describe all of this to a pest control or electronic repair person, much less how they'd actually help me. Those snakes all look like common garden snakes, but they can't be. Their eyes just don't belong. They look so hostile, so full of envy. Hate. I think I decided at some point that they Buddys just hated me for some reason. It was just the impression that I got from looking into their eyes, their tongues sticking out and retreating again in disgust. They knew I didn't have any power here.

Next were my televisions, then it was my oven. I wondered briefly what could possibly be responsible for the simultaneous supernatural failures of my technological devices. Another look out my window put that question to rest. I mean, it was a stretch to be sure but Christ, what else could it be? I went ahead and updated my calendar so that I knew what day it was my phone when that decided to fail on me suddenly. It was a good call since it was the next to go on December 18th.

More snakes showed up of course. Twenty, thirty, forty, at that point I couldn't bother counting and I just had to estimate. Fifty? Seventy? Dare I say a hundred? It was impossible to tell really. I only saw them in the backyard. At some point I closed the blinds and curtains to every other window, I did not want to know how many were outside those or if they were staring into my house at me there either. But I couldn't bring myself to blind myself to the kitchen window. I always spent a brief moment looking over my garden; it was still fine, even with fifteen snakes circling it for god knows what reason. What did I say earlier about the endurance of winter crops? Really though, I just couldn't look away from them. I wonder how many hours total I've spent just staring out that window... Not much else I could do with my time but look my impending doom in their eyes. Their hundreds of eyes...

I was running out of food by this point but there wasn't really much I could do. Every electronic in my home had given up on me so I couldn't contact anyone. Well, I guess my thermostat still worked but that wasn't useful for anything besides climate control. I suppose the reptiles didn't have it in their hearts to take the heat away from me. Small mercies? I would've tried getting in my car and leaving but one look out the front window told me that the snakes did surround my house and were looking into every window, blinded or not. I felt terrible just constantly. I could hardly sleep if not from my empty stomach than with the stomach churning knowledge that this was the end. These harmless snakes would be the death of me.

I woke up on December 21st, not really expecting anything different. There were plenty of doomsayers crying out about the end of the world on that day. "December 21st, 2012 will be the end! It was written by the Mayans! It'll be the end I tell you!" None of them knew what they were talking about and yet... they were right. I knew it from the moment I looked outside on the winter solstice.

There were no snakes in my backyard. None in my garden, none in my trees. I looked out the other windows and all the same. The snakes were gone. I took one hesitant step outside in a snug jacket and my old pal Buddy slithered up at miraculous speeds onto the railing of my back porch. I tried to run but could not, instead I found myself in another staring contest with this snake. I was so sure that this was the original snake, my Buddy. I'm still sure of it though I have no real reason to think that. All of them were were identical anyway.

Buddy then began to slither and twist and bend himself, coiling comfortably on the rail. I watched in disbelief as he began to eat his own tail.

I stared this garden snake eye-to-eye in awe and fear when suddenly I completely understood what this was.

It was the first, it multiplied into many, and it became one again. And now it is destroying itself with eyes full of hatred and jealousy and rage. Think on that. It is the little I can do to make you understand.

Because I understand. I understood.

But I cannot possibly tell you what it is I understood no matter how much I wish I could.

I do not have the words to make you understand what the phrase "We will not last forever" really means, the fact that we cannot last forever. You can know, sure, but you cannot understand. It takes a revealing of truth with such enormous gravity that simply cannot be repeated, cannot be expressed, cannot be place into another's head without them experiencing those days—those weeks of hour long gazes and restless nights and starving waking hours. You simply cannot understand.

I do understand.

And it is every moment that I wish I did not.

That is all.

End of statement.

To my knowledge, there are not many statements that regard snakes and even in those they only appear in minor roles. That is to say that their decidedly major appearance here is very curious. I'll be sure to have my assistants find any others that feature snakes and we'll look into any common themes.

As for right now, I will categorize this as an instance of KnowingUnwanted given the focus on how they stare, although the crisis the statement ends on also gives me cause to note it as perhaps Impermanence. It is not unreasonable that it could be both after all. Neither of them are particularly associated with technology though so... *sigh* what a headache this one is.

End of documentation.

#the magnus archive #fanfic #but only technically #no spoilers #no spoliers please #i havent finished it yet #written in a fugue state #as all the best art is #this is not the best art #oh no i am one of you people now #i am so tumblr #spooky snakes #i read some stephen king #not polished #writeblr

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