#life model!Poe

[nemesis-writer]

Crybaby

Masterlist TW- neglect, almost-suicide, suicidal thoughts

She stood on the bridge In silence and fear, For the demons of darkness Had driven her here.

So close to falling yet so far from succeeding, I latched on to the bar hoping to make my self let go from the shivering rain. But no, I just held on wishing that a brother or father of mine could save me.

They cut her heart Right out of her chest, Making her believe That the demons knew best.

They depth of my hatred for them goes farther than the deepest oceans and the farthest galaxies. I guess from this you can tell that my life has always been described as a poem from the darkest poets such as Edgar Poe, or darker than the ebony that coats the outside of the unknown galaxy.

I've always loved myself for it, yet I've always been hated for it. The Waynes could also be mentioned as the Addams' family with a loyal butler, multiple suicidal kids, and 'loving parents'. Yet unlike the Waynes, at least the Addams family aren't full of rage and loathesome creatures.

The demons of my life have come from the very same family that held me, hurt me, neglected me, and despised me for the rest of my days.

They were always there, Sometimes just out of sight, Waiting in the background Till the time was right.

Damian was always the one I expected to push myself through the buildings that were made for despair my whole life. Jason, would be considered the first one to have memories with since he's trying to avoid showing the wretched hatred my father has for me.

Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Barbara considered me useless, unintelligent, and fatally naive to the outside world. Then there's Dick, the eldest, the role model, the possibly apple of dear old dad's eye, he on the other hand found me as a means to an end, who wouldn't?

Bruce, I was stupid to assume that we could connect as a father-daughter would. Every day he wished to send me back to the adoption center and nullify all the papers that was supposed to make me a Wayne.

These demons were destructive, Knocking down the life she knew, Hating everything about her; She hated herself, too.

The family that I was inured to, has stabbed, beaten, and thrown me away like an animal. I was considered more as a stray animal begging for love and attention. The human beings that I consider myself to be connected to is Alfred and Jesse. Alfred is the Lurch of this family while Jesse is another being that has kept me from losing sanity in this jail they call home.

I got lucky to graduate just in time before I let myself drown from neglect. But sadly we can't simply run away from the demons we bear.

These demons can't be seen, But they're far from fairy tales. They live inside your mind; Their evilness prevails.

People thought I'm crazy for being ungrateful of this life, my words are deemed fraudulent. But my appearance is out of order, my clothing is ragged, my hair remains dry and bristling, my body now shows malnourishment and scars from my demons. Yet, my eyes remained the same, broken, in front of the face I was gifted to be beautiful became a mask for the truth, my face was meant to be scarred.

I've never felt the scars go deeper yet I never minded of it. But as I was about to let go of the bars that held my fear in it I heard a voice.

"Hello lady what are you doing?"

It was a voice of a little five year old girl.

"Just enjoying the rain little one. Where are your parents at?"

"I don't have any, I just like being alone."

I jumped over the bar back to the bridge, looking at her with sadness.

"Want me to take you back to the center?"

"Suree, Thank youuu!", She giggled.

And we went on our way back.

So on the bridge she stood, About to end the fight. Then she stopped and thought I'll fight them one more night.

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e

[starlightwritcr]

I can fix him, literally. (Android au!Sukuna)

(@poe-daydreams this is for you <3)

warning/s: Minors DNI, Smut, exhibitionism but not really? idk how to describe it, light degradation, use of "whore", Sukuna's two dicks

Imagine android!Sukuna used to be a popular fighter in an underground fighting ring. Key word: used to be. He went up against Jujutsu Technology's newest Gojo model, S4T0RU (or Satoru, as most fans call him), but suffered a humiliating defeat at his hands. This caused heavy damages on Sukuna which led to his owner throwing him out to the trash. After all, why keep the old model around when the latest model was far superior?

But you didn't believe in such. You were surprised to find a Sukuna model in the trash at the back of a dingy building. Who in their right mind would throw away a million dollar android in this economy?! You took the android in, seeing as how the previous clearly didn't want him.

It was a challenge to repair the Sukuna model but as someone who used to work for Jujutsu Technology, you were able to do it. His mind chip seemed to be working fine. It was just the external parts that suffered heavy damage, which should be easy enough to replace. All it took was ordering spare parts online and giving it a new coat of paint to match his original model's tattoos to make him look good as new!

When android!Sukuna's systems started operating again, he woke up from sleep mode and saw you. You explained that you fixed him up after finding him in the trash. There were still some tests to run, just to see if there would be any possible bug fixes needed.

In true Sukuna fashion, he wasn't very cooperative at first. This wasn't your first rodeo though and managed to convince him to do it so that it could be over with. It didn't come as a surprise to you that a fighter android would be aggressive. Plus, the Sukuna line was designed with that personality to elicit reactions from audiences when he trash talked his opponents. It was pretty much just how he was designed.

While running the tests on Sukuna, you decided to check his memory file to see what happened before he was thrown out. You saw how badly he got beaten by the S4T0RU model.

Perhaps it was a strange thing to do, but you empathised with the android. Getting abandoned and replaced would be painful for any regular human after all. Even if Sukuna was an android, it wasn't uncommon for androids to develop a capacity for human emotions. This tended to be the case for fast-learning androids.

So, you kept him around. Sukuna wasn't too pleased about it but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He was rough and brash at first, blowing a hole into your finances with how much fuel he needed to consume. He calls you soft for treating him like he's human.

But despite the difficulties, despite the insults, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon him. You'd be no better than the person that replaced him so easily. You taught him how to navigate human life, dealing with human emotions, all the essentials needed. Soon enough, you noticed a change in his behaviors. Sukuna hovered around you, never leaving your side. It was almost like he was attached to your hip.

In a way, Sukuna did what he was created to do. He became a bodyguard of sorts, protecting you from creepy dudes whenever you went out. His trash talking feature especially came in handy during gossip sessions where you just had to vent about a rude coworker.

android!Sukuna found a new purpose in you. It was odd going from being a fighter android basking in cheers from the audience to being a companion android protecting his owner like a guard dog. But perhaps this life was more meaningful than his previous one. He'll never admit that though. It's only through his actions that you understand how he felt.

Feeling your touch on his synthetic skin felt even more exhilarating than all the cheers from the audience he's received in his fighting career. Sukuna cursed at himself, realising that he's become whipped for you. He was lucky that it was you, the person who's never abandoned him.

Sometimes android!Sukuna can be pretty possessive. You worked with repairing other androids so deep down, there was a fear that you'd find another android you liked more and replaced him with it. Even if he knew you wouldn't, there was a lingering fear that was deeply rooted ever since he was abandoned.

The height of Sukuna's possessiveness came to its peak when you brought home a sex android from the S4T0RU line. Its previous owners had a really good time with it and accidentally damaged it. You were baffled by this, seeing as how Jujutsu Technology usually equipped its Gojo models with tough materials. They must've went really wild with it.

While repairing it, Sukuna pulled you close. He glared at the S4T0RU model that was in sleep mode. You gasped as his fingers slipped into your clothes, going up your thighs.

Your cries of pleasure echoed against the walls as Sukuna fucked you in front of the android. His hands held you tightly, keeping you in place while he drove his synthetic cocks into you.

"When did you get two dicks?!" "Shut up and take them, whore."

You felt your brain turning to mush while he rearranged your insides with his thick cocks. Sukuna smirked in satisfaction when he knew your attention was completely on him and not that android on your work desk.

[tally885]

[For the Actor AU] Were there any other notable roles/shows/films that the Critters have acted in besides PPT and SC?

Not reaaallyyy because they had spent their whole lives on SC (Donny & Cal being on PPT before any of the rest of them)

But let’s see,

So the Smiling Critters:

Donny Diaz (DogDay) had a couple of TV roles in his late teens/early adults but was mostly stuck to the critters for his whole life but he did end up getting newer and fresher roles post-incident.

Calixto Nochez (CatNap) starred in a handful of Adam’s movies bc he likes to choose them specifically (Nepotism yk) and after the incident they choose not to be in the spotlight anymore. They’d like a quieter less stressful life.

Kareem Cariño (KickinChicken) was definitely a young actor on many things, his parents are both actors n they nepotismed him into the acting field (Maya hawk kinda deal). He’s always open for more acting roles and he has gotten a lot after the incident

Bobby Bonalove (Bobby Bearhug) didn’t go into acting outside of SC, she mostly makes Music & Models but she’s open to doing acting again

Harley Hipolito (Hoppy Hopscotch) didn’t have any roles previously but she ended up on SC bc her brother Buckley (Bunzo) had previously been on PPT and he recommended her for the sparky energetic rabbit lol, and then she didn’t continue acting afterwards

Cristal Chao (CraftyCorn), Bandhu Bundi (Bubba Bubbaphant) and Paloma Pacheco (Picky Piggy) are the only ones out of the SC who didn’t act before and won’t continue to act.

The Nightmare Critters

Beau Charlot (Baba Chops) and Allister ‘Al’ Gumbs (Allister Gator) are step-siblings, the duo had been handpicked from a local theater group by Dr Harley Sawyer, who liked what they had to offer and they were brought on for SC but nothing else outside of theater stuff and not so much TV or Movies. Allister does go on to try to get on TV or in Movies again bc he does genuinely enjoy acting. Baba goes into making indie music and nothing in TV because she realized it wasn’t for her.

Renée Bebe (Rabie Baby) starred in a lot of other shows as a mean girl archetype which is exactly why she was chosen for Rabie. She continues to act in TV shows and Movies and she even does broadway! She also does music & modeling on the occasion, sometimes with Bobby too!

Símone Solís (Simon Smoke) was a fairly prominent young actor much like Rabie, casted previously for the snarky cocky jock archetype and it’s what got him chosen to play Simon. Now he still does acting and he does modeling as well! Can’t waste a face that pretty on nothing, yknow?

Paige Ravenscroft (Poe) is a thespian who mostly reads poetry aloud and will often act in dramatic plays. This made them perfect for the role of Poe and they got into character pretty much right away. They now continue to post their poetry online but they don’t star in anything else anymore.

Toni Raton (Toullie) , Isaias Lopez (Icky Licky) and Margaret Mahoe (Maggie Mako) were the only ones who didn’t have any prominent roles and auditioned naturally. Tobias likes the spotlight so he did stay and continue, Maggie wasn’t an acting type and she didn’t want anything to do after the SC, and Isaias didn’t feel acting was for him but he did really enjoy the attention so he does try to milk his fame lol

[therealrichardpapen]

I got my gf into bsd and this is what they said on the episodes we've watched. Showed them the most important parts, and they turned into a sskk shipper when I brought them into this for skk. Have fun reading these:

● Love Island: Dazai edition

● I need them all nailed to the wall (dazai and fyodor)

● Mummy with luscious hips (akutagawa's power in dead apple)

● They modified them in a lab, and yet they couldn't make Jouno see

● Plum blossoms in the snow - that sounds like shower gel for women

● Atsushi hallucinating dazai - those scene from romantic movies with the dead wife running through the fields

● I dont know if i should call Dazai the smartest person or the dumbest mf

● (Cannibalism arc) *Mori almost getting assasinated* they need to shave his face

● (Poe) So he's like, Ranpo's boyfriend

● When life gives you lemons, make bombs out of them

●The agency and the mafia are just a disfunctional family

● Can't they just marry and unite the agency and the mafia? They're both single—

● Natsume is the og gay shipper of Mori and Fukuzawa

● (On Mori and Fukuzawa fighting) just fucking kiss

● He's walking like a super fucking model (fyodor)

● I will cling to that tiger for my dear life

● *Fukuzawa calling Mori in season 4* is he calling his husband. I wonder what nickname he has on his phone

● *Margaret in a coma* well she is gone with the wind

● *ango appears* who is this slut with that ass

● asagiri saw "be gay do crime" and created bsd. He was like "what do gays love the most? Outdated literature!"

● Honestly Mori looks so much more better as an old man. I dont make the rules

● Everyone say thank you ranpo

● Why is Aku biting Atsushi? Is it like a sex thing?

● Bram is just an astrology girly

● Why is Bram a lollipop?

● Jouno is so nice! He has a saviour complex!

● Why are they all alcoholics?

● Look how Fyodor stands. I bet he has a spine desfiguration. But it's slutty

● I need Mori to perform a surgery and be hot about this

● *Mori laughing* He's having a villain moment, ok?

● Dazai knew Chuuya is powerful in combat because they've been combating in bed every night

● Sigma thought that Fyodor had bpd and that was his special trait

● Nikolai bending down because he wanted to get fucked by Fyodor

● Imagine the airport having to security check fyodor's arm when they return to Yokohama

● Akutagawa has no chill. Not only he'd been abandoned, but they're all actively trying to kill him by smoking next to him

● Dazai has no filter really

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Pickman's Model

HP Lovecraft: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the story of the pickman's model Lovecraft: what if there was a painting so scary Lovecraft: like it was so scary Lovecraft: like SO scary

Lovecraft: so there's this painting that's SO scary you can't look at it Barker: what happens if you look at it Barker: do you go insane Lovecraft: Lovecraft: yeah you go insane Barker: damn howard really going outside your wheelhouse tonight Poe: clive don't start

Lovecraft: so this painting is so scary that you can't even look at it King: wow! imagine if there was a painting like that! Stephen Gammell:

Garrett Cook: a scary painting huh? i got a twist on that Cook: what if a picture was scary Cook: because it was drawn with haunted chalk? Lovecraft: Cook: just think about it for a minute

Lovecraft: oh yeah that's good Cook: like, chalk cursed by the soul of a debauched libertine Lovecraft: oh no i don't like that Barker: wait wait i want to hear more about that Lovecraft: but clive Barker: shut up howard Barker: adults are talking

Lovecraft: no guys you don't understand Lovecraft: the reason that the painting is so scary Lovecraft: is it's a painting of, like, a scary dog Dean Koontz: i wouldn't be scared of a dog Lovecraft: oh you'd be scared of this dog, dean Lovecraft: it's real scary

Lovecraft: but the scariest thing about this scary dog Lovecraft: is Lovecraft: wait for it Lovecraft: the scary dog is real Koontz: what! Lovecraft: it turns out pickman drew it from life! Lovecraft: from his model! Lovecraft: pickman's model!

Koontz: gosh howard Koontz: i think that's just great! Koontz: seeing a picture of a dog is great Koontz: but then finding out that the dog is real and you can go see the real dog Koontz: that's even better!

Lovecraft: dean you don't understand!   Lovecraft: the dog is evil! Koontz: i don't believe that   Koontz: there are no bad dogs

[starberry-cupcake]

I shouldn't be making another one of these because I didn't even give you enough time to catch up and I'm sure you're tired of me (I'm probably losing mutuals over the length of these) BUT I FINISHED ACT II and I think this is the right place for an update recap. I'm so sorry.

previously, in harrowlana the ninth (reference I might explain one day):

this happened

currently, chapters 20 - 22 (END OF ACT II!!!):

we start with a killer epitaph from harrow for her own grave that I absolutely 10000% need in a tshirt yesterday

"Here lies the world's most insufferable witch"

alleged gideon the first, here known as ortus the first (but I am so sure about this one) has tried to kill harrowbeanie 14 times

I honestly don't know how harrow is going through this without outright telling emperor johnny man to go and insert this entire planetary situation right in the center of his bolthole

we're over here working overtime for you and your sorry ass of a plan that is probably terrible for everyone who isn't you

and we have to put up with zombies (we'll get there), the terrible attitude of your remaining lyctors, very questionable food, very questionable decor, very questionable non goth fashions, and also a man who tries to kill harrow at every turn

this is the worst

at least in canaan house we had gideon's humor and camilla's perfection

ANYWAY

emperor john tells alleged gideon the first (if I'm wrong about this, these are going to be embarrassing looking back on) "she's your responsibility, not your punching bag" to which alleged gideon the first answers "I find the responsibility a hard one"

I'm not sure if this is alluding to baby lyctors in general or harrow in particular, or if anything related to the gideon-involvement narrative I'm imagining has anything to do with it

emperor johnny boy tells harrowbean that this guy's problem is that he made a pact with an "authority he has no power to gainsay" to protect emperor johnny john and that alleged gideon the first thinks harrow is a danger to the emperor

I SURE HOPE SO

I SURE HOPE HARROW KILLS THIS MAN

I HOPE ALLEGED GIDEON THE FIRST IS RIGHT

harrow then mentions how she's "lyctor lite" and emperor john of nottingham says he doesn't think harrow fucked up the lyctor thing

he says only one person fucked it up and it was nasty

it was the ninth lyctor, Anastasia (and a song someone sings, once upon a december)

the vacant room harrowbean has taken residence in was meant for her, but she never made it there

she asked emperor john the asshat to kill her and he said no because he's that kind of a person

"she had much more to give"

I hate this guy

he also says "I had a body and I needed a tomb"

harrow asks the question everyone is asking themselves

aside from where tf are gideon and camilla

"God, who did you bury?"

he gets all vague and cryptic so he can avoid taking about what the fuck he's doing

and he quotes Annabel Lee

edgar allan poe's Annabel Lee

this is a bit more in my wheelhouse than shakespeare

to which harrow notes "Who was A.L.?"

now, I have SEVERAL THINGS TO SAY

first, and most importantly, I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS

THAT ICE CUBE BARBIE MIGHT BE A.L.

I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS, FAM

here's more magic knight rayearth art of the vibes I get from them to celebrate

second of all, Annabel Lee

I do have Annabel Lee in one of my EAP books, but not the one with the pretty Lacombe illustrations

so here are some Ligeia illustrations from it that have the vibe we're going for, as a treat

now, not to be all ortus over here, but I'm gonna be reciting some poetry

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea.

gonna put that in the 3d model

in the middle of it, like a centerpiece

let's bring back the barbie

this man is doing the whole wife/madwoman in the attic gothic trope but instead of an attic it's a tomb in pluto

another madwoman archetype to add to the list, we've got a whole collection

CHAPTER 21

we have summoned ortus by reciting poetry, because we're back in the gideon-less version of canaan house

so, the sixth is dead in this version

the sleeper or random rifle carrying person shot them in the face a bunch of times

what I wanted to do to not!dulcinea

harrow mentions not having seen camilla or palmolive much in this gideon-less version

devastating for her not to have met camilla

so then protozoa and dulcinea come in

notice I didn't say not!dulcinea

that's because this is the real deal dulcinea and the alive non zombified protozoa

we can know this by their descriptions (especially the hair), the fact that dulcinea knows who tf palmolive is, that she has a breathing tube that palmolive designed for her (this guy istg), that she can identify them and calls them "cam" and "pal"

I was so caught up on this book I forgot to read the short story that came before it btw

anyway, we also know this because protozoa speaks, but we'll get to that

before that, ortus calls the sleeper "the waker" and it's giving me the vibes of the citadel deck

wait, I'm gonna take a pic of some of the cards that give me the correct tlt vibes, so you know what the hecko I'm talking about

(I'm going on unplanned tangents but maybe someone appreciates them)

(we've moved from 3d models to me fetching books and decks from my shelves, what has palmolive done to me)

so, as previously established, protozoa speaks, which is how we know he might be the real one and not the zombie version

he then proceeds to recite poetry

ortus is feral about this

I thought initially that they were gonna have to make room for protozoa in the polycule ortus is in with the fifth, but he doesn't like protozoa coming for his gig

abby says "we're all in this together" which reminds me I did make a high school musical connection with magnus before, so it's funny that it turned out that way

abby asks real dulcinea, aka "dulcie" to her, to bring in mayonnaise uncle because he'll listen to her

why is everyone always into her in all the aus, idk

this one is less bad than not!dulcinea though, but the bar for that was on the subsoil

magnus (who is very much in love with his wife and he's pointing it out every chance he gets) is in charge of looking for martita

harrow is in charge of regina george twin (and yandere twin)

abby thinks regina george twin is the most relevant one

apparently also they're flooded with the rain

which was me last week, so I feel you fam

and we get our traidtional quote, this time by real dulcinea

"Is this really how it happens, Lady Pent?" "No. It's not" "Does it get—better than this? Do you know?"

real dulcinea is saying goodbye to palmolive and the love of my life, who I refuse to accept is in any way harmed in any timeline

and harrow "felt something in her core, though she did not know precisely what it was"

palmolive had a filmsy and we love flimsies because they have what I have started to call "harrow texts"

or "texts which can only be read by harrow"

OP is still ranting, a continuation of the egg rant

I'm gonna transcribe all of it and bold the new part, for my own access, even though everyone who has me in their dash will hate me and block me

The eggs you gave me all died and you lied to me so I did the implantation myself you self-serving zombie and you still sent him after me and I would have had him if I hadn't been compromised and he took pity on me! he took pity on me! he saw me and he took pity on me. And for that I'll make you both suffer until you no longer understand the meaning of that goddamned word. Him I'll kill quick because she asked me to and because that much he honestly deserves but you two mummified wizard shits I will burn and burn and burn burn until there is no trace of you left in the shadow of my long-lost natal sun

could the self-serving zombie be emperor john? could gideon the first be one of the people alluded to? has Annabel Lee anything to do with any of this? since OP mentions a long-lost natal sun? who's "she"? has gideon's mom anything to do with any of this? is this totally not related? is this the actual present? does 'mummified wizard shits' stand for lyctor? because I kinda live for that

ortus, on the other hand, sees an S

ortus in this timeline knows how his dad died, apparently

and we end this part with harrow and ortus finding rusted pipette needles

CHAPTER 22

harrow has killed 13 planets in this practice, which is insane and nobody's asking any questions about it

she was dreaming with ice cube barbie annabel lee and she told her to wake up

harrow mentions the sword sleeping next to her in a loverlike position and it reads like a gideon body pillow to me

remember when I said we should have flushed not!dulcinea into space?

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT

nobody ever takes the not!dulcinea threat seriously but me

I have to do everything around here

she's a zombie now, which is protozoa's revenge from behind the veil

there's a moment in which she trips but still looks at harrow and it's very creepy and well narrated but I can't help but think of the dracula dead and loving it scene with hypnosis

"it was as though a magnet were stuck in the meat, a magnet that craved some polar force within you" wonder what THAT is about

much like the sleeper/waker, not!dulcinea can pass through wards apparently

harrow goes to wake up yandere twin and says "septimus is walking"

yandere twin doesn't understand at first "the name that had never been cytherea's" and later says "tell her I want my arm back"

which relates to the fact that I've been thinking

if real dulcinea is there in the gideon-less ver

how was not!dulcinea even involved?

because harrow seems to have memories of killing her, of fighting her, of her doing damage in some way, of her being a threat, of her doing it to lure emperor johnny boy to canaan house

so we have some big missing link between the gideon-less canaan version and the emperor's bolthole timeline

she can't be the sleeper/waker, because harrow wouldn't call her "septimus"

so harrow remembers not!dulcinea posing as real dulcinea, which does not happen in the gideon-less version, as far as we can tell atm

AGAIN, DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING, LET ME BE IN DISTRESS

last but not less important

remember not to hint me anything at all and thank you for being patient with me all this time ♥

[faretheeoscar]

The Therapy Droid

Join the TagList! • Main Masterlist • Buy me a coffee! • Linktree

Content: grief, discussions of parent death, angst , comfort, fluff, mentions of panic/anxiety. Art is happy, but the fic is not really. Let me know if I missed any!

I got inspired by this reddit post I read a while ago about how BB-8 was once a therapy droid for Poe.

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Word Count: 4.2k~

The jungle of Yavin 4 hummed with life as the sun dipped low, bathing the sky in hues of orange and violet. From the top step of their modest home, Poe Dameron sat hunched over, a model starfighter clutched loosely in his hands. His fingers traced its sleek wings and sharp edges, but his eyes were distant, fixed on nothing in particular.

It had been two months since his mother, Shara Bey, died.

For a boy of nine, grief was an incomprehensible thing. It wasn’t just sadness—it was a hollow, consuming ache that dulled every sound, every color. Poe barely touched the toys and star charts he once obsessed over. The jungle no longer called to him, nor did the excitement of exploring the Rebel base ruins nearby. Everything felt wrong without her.

His father, Kes Dameron, watched from the doorway. The death of Shara had left a hole in both their lives, but Kes had always been better at hiding his pain. He was a soldier, after all. He knew how to keep marching, even when the weight felt unbearable. But Poe? Poe was still a boy, one who had lost not just his mother, but his light.

Kes had tried everything to help—encouraging words, distractions, he had stayed on Yavin to try to spend time together with his son—but nothing seemed to break through. That’s until he spoke to some officers on Shara’s old team that contacted him with a New Republic doctor, a sympathetic Mon Calamari, who had suggested something new.

“Hey Flyboy,” Kes said gently, stepping out onto the porch. The boy didn’t move.

"Poe..."Kes crouched beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking. You’ve been through a lot... and I know that lately I haven’t been here for you, that you’ve stayed with your grandpa but… I think you need someone who can really be there for you, to help you.”

“I don’t need anyone,” Poe muttered, his voice sounding a little bit more sharp than it intended. His grip on the model starfighter tightened.

Kes hesitated, then pressed a button on the remote he’d been holding. From inside the house came a soft whirring sound, followed by the distinct chime of a droid powering on. A moment later, a small spherical astromech droid rolled into view, white and orange plating recently polished. Its head, a dome balanced impossibly above its ball-shaped body, swiveled with curiosity.

Poe’s brow furrowed. “Who… is this?”

“This,” Kes said with a small smile, “is BB-8. He’s a therapy droid. The New Republic’s been rolling them out for people who’ve had... a hard time.”

BB-8 beeped softly, his head tilting as if studying the boy. Poe’s brows knit together, suspicion tinged with annoyance. 

“I don’t need a droid” Poe said flatly.

“You might not think so,” Kes said, his voice steady, “but sometimes, having someone—something—to talk to helps. BB-8’s not just a machine. He’s designed to listen, to keep you company. To be your friend.”

BB-8 trolled softly, rolling a little closer. Poe eyed him warily, but the droid didn’t press further.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Kes said, standing. “But BB-8’s here for you. Give him a chance.”

BB-8 didn’t leave Poe’s side.

At first, Poe ignored him. When the droid tried to engage him with cheerful beeps or small tricks, Poe would turn away. But BB-8 wasn’t discouraged. The little droid had been programmed with patience and persistence, and he used both.

One evening, BB-8 followed Poe into the jungle as the boy wandered aimlessly, his head bowed. The droid rolled beside him silently, only chirping softly when Poe stumbled on a root. 

Poe paused his walk. “Why are you following me?” He demanded, spinning around to glare at the droid trailing behind him.

BB-8 let out a sequence of beeps that translated roughly to, Because you need me.

Poe’s scowl deepened. “I don’t. Go back to the garage or something. Leave me alone!”

BB-8 let out a sarcastic whistle, a sound that practically oozed droid sass, before speeding up and deliberately rolling into Poe’s shin with a firm thud. He then spun in a tiny circle around him, this kid clearly needed some tough love to get the message. BB-8’s stance made it clear: You’re stuck with me, kid.

Poe stumbled back, staring at the droid with wide eyes.  “Ow! What the—are you serious? You’re lucky my dad insists on keeping you around. If it were up to me, I’d leave you out here to rust!”

BB-8 responded with a smug, elongated chirp, leaning back slightly on his spherical body.

Go ahead. You’d miss me within an hour.

Poe groaned, running his hands over his face in frustration. “You’re the most annoying droid I’ve ever met. And I’ve met Chopper.”

BB-8 let out a dramatic warble of protest, offended by the comparison. His head swiveled: Take that back.

“I’m not taking it back! You’re annoying,” Poe shot back, his voice rising in exasperation.

BB-8 emitted a sequence of defiant beeps, the droid equivalent of, Fine. Say whatever you want, I’m staying. Without missing a beat, he continued rolling alongside Poe, as persistent as ever.

Poe groaned again, throwing his hands in the air as he resumed walking. “Unbelievable. You’re impossible.”

BB-8 chirped brightly, almost cheerfully, Glad you noticed.

BB-8’s beeps followed Poe as he wandered deeper into the forest, the droid a persistent presence just behind him. Poe sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused at how the little droid refused to leave him alone. 

As they pushed through the dense underbrush, Poe’s eyes caught a flash of metal glinting through the green. A moment later, they came to a clearing where the remnants of an old X-wing cockpit lay half-buried in the dirt, vines creeping over its edges like a tangled web. 

“Stars, this is amazing!” he whispered, a grin spreading across his face as he clambered inside. The seat was weathered, moss-covered, and the controls were worn, but to Poe, it was perfect. His small hands traced the familiar layout of the console, fingers brushing over switches and dials as if they might come alive at his touch. He sat down, imagining what it would feel like to fly—like his mom did in her own ship, racing among the stars, the hum of the engines beneath him. For a moment he felt at peace, in that cockpit, and something urged him to start talking, mostly to himself, but still aware of the fact that the droid could hear him. 

“My mom taught me how to fly,” he said almost absentmindedly. His voice wavered, the words carried a weight too heavy for his little heart. “She used to say the sky, space was freedom.” 

Poe’s lips curved into a faint smile as he brushed his fingers across the throttle. “She was amazing, you know? She’d let me sit in her lap while she flew. I could feel every little turn, every little bump. It was like the ship was alive. Like it was... part of her.”

BB-8 tilted his head and let out a soft beep, as if urging Poe to continue when he saw him struggling to speak again. Poe took a deep breath deciding that maybe he could trust the little round droid with his mom’s precious memories.

“She’d tell me stories about her missions—like this one time she out-flew three TIEs through an asteroid field. Dad always said she was crazy for trying it, but I thought she was the coolest.” Poe chuckled lightly. “She wasn’t scared of anything.”

The smile slipped from his face as his gaze drifted to the canopy of the cockpit, now cracked and clouded with age. “When she died...” His voice faltered. He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the edge of the seat. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye. One day she was here, and then... she wasn’t.”

His mind drifted to the memory of her funeral, a simple ceremony held around a fire on the jungle floor of Yavin IV. The night was warm, the fire crackling softly as the gathered pilots of Green Squadron shared stories of Shara Bey. It wasn’t the first time Poe had heard about her final mission, but hearing it from Captain L’ulo brought a sharp pain to his heart. 

L’ulo had spoken hesitantly at first, his voice weighed down by the memory. He recounted the chaos of the mission, the near impossibility of holding their ground against the Empire’s relentless assault. “She wouldn’t leave until she’d done what she came for,” L’ulo had said, his hands tightening on the flight gloves he held. “She said the navigational data in the droids couldn’t fall into Imperial hands. We all tried to get her back to the ship, but then…” He trailed off, his gaze distant, fixed on the flames.

“We begged her to let us stay, to fight for her, but Shara... She was Shara. She wouldn’t let us risk ourselves for her. Told us to go. Ordered us to go.” The words came slower after that, his voice trembling. “And then... she told me something else. She said to tell Kes that she loved him. That he should kiss Poe for her the next time he saw him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling of the fire. L’ulo shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have delivered a lot of messages, but I think this is the hardest I’ve ever done… I’m–sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Kes had turned away from the fire, his shoulders shaking as he fought to hold himself together. Poe had felt frozen in place, the weight of his mother’s final message settled over him like a weight, heavy and suffocating, pulling at the edges of his heart. Even as L’ulo had finished speaking, and the others had started to share their own stories of Shara– with tales of laughter that could cheer up the mood, all Poe could think was how much he wished he could have been there, to hug her one last time, to tell her that he loved her too.

“Poe, come here.” Kes called for his son, his voice breaking. Poe came close to his father, shoulders slouching and his head tilted down.

Kes’s hands trembled as he reached into the pocket of his flight jacket, pulling out a small, silver ring that gleamed shinner than the stars that night. He cupped it in his palm, holding it out to Poe to take.

“This ring,” Kes said, “this was your mother’s. She wore it when she married me, and she always kept it on when she flew. She said it reminded her of what she was fighting for—us, the family she loved more than anything.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, eyes searching Poe’s face. “It’s yours now. To remember her by.”

Poe’s eyes widened as he took the ring, turning it over in his fingers, tracing the cool metal soft surface of it. Tears welled up, blurring the firelight before him as he slipped the ring around his neck, letting it rest against his chest where it felt right—close to his heart.

“Thank you, Dad,” he whispered, three words, it was the most Poe had spoken ever since the news of Shara’s passing had come to their ears. Kes’s eyes also glistened with tears as he pulled Poe into a tight embrace that felt like it lasted forever. After a moment, he pulled back just enough to press a kiss to Poe’s forehead, then stood, watching as his son remained at the fire, fingers clutching the ring against his chest.

The jungle seemed to hold its breath, the sounds of creatures and insects fading into the background. Poe’s face crumpled as tears welled up in his eyes. He buried his face in his arms, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. "I feel like... like there’s this big hole in me, and nothing fills it. I try to remember her face, her voice, but... it’s getting harder.” His words grew quieter, as if speaking them out loud might make the memories fade faster, anxiety making it harder for him to breathe. “I don’t want to forget her.”

BB-8 chirped softly, rolling closer until he was right beside the cockpit. He extended his small manipulator arm and poked gently at Poe’s arm. When Poe didn’t respond, BB-8 let out a deliberate sequence of exaggerated beeps.

Poe sniffled, lifting his head just enough to shoot BB-8 a questioning glance. “What now?”

BB-8 repeated the beeps, slower this time, and Poe blinked. “Wait... what? Did you just say... ‘Why did the droid cross the road?’”

BB-8 let out a series of triumphant whistles, delivering the punchline: Because it rolled with it!

A laugh burst out of Poe, sudden but cutting back his tears. “That’s so bad, BB-8. Like, terrible.”

BB-8 trilled proudly, And yet you’re laughing. He spun in place and bumped his dome against Poe’s arm playfully, making the boy laugh harder.

Poe wiped at his face with his sleeve, “You’re impossible” His tears mingled with a reluctant grin. “But... thanks.”

BB-8 gave a gentle chirp, a comforting sound that filled the silence like a warm hug. Poe reached out to rub the droid’s head, his heart a little lighter despite the ache that still lingered.

“You’d like her, you know,” Poe said quietly. “And Mom. She’d love you.”

From that moment, something shifted. Poe still didn’t talk much, but he stopped pushing BB-8 away. Slowly as their conversations grew more natural, filled with sarcasm and teasing, but also an unspoken warmth. Poe found himself trusting BB-8 in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone since losing his mother. 

Weeks turned into months, and BB-8 became more than a companion—he became Poe’s anchor. The droid’s gentle persistence pulled him out of his shell, coaxing him to engage with the world again. 

When Poe felt lost, BB-8 would roll ahead, guiding him through the jungle paths as if to remind him to keep moving. When Poe was restless, the droid would engage him in small tasks—repairing gadgets, organizing tools, or tinkering with scrap—quietly keeping his hands and mind busy.

On difficult nights, BB-8 would activate his tiny light projector, filling the room with soft, shifting patterns of starlight to create a sense of calm. When Poe woke from nightmares, gasping for air, BB-8 would roll to his bedside, nudge him gently, and Poe, still trembling, would place a hand on BB-8’s dome. And when sleep reclaimed him, BB-8 remained there—a constant, steady presence, guarding his peace through the night.

By the time Poe turned ten, he and BB-8 were inseparable. Together, they explored the galaxy of Poe’s imagination, flying pretend missions in the abandoned ship, building little trinkets at home or mapping out constellations on the jungle floor. BB-8’s programming evolved to meet Poe’s needs, adapting to the boy’s growing confidence and rekindled spark.

Kes often found them in the garage, a small, cluttered space attached to their home. It was a place Shara had once used to tinker with her A-wing’s auxiliary systems, and now it had become Poe’s workshop. The smell of lubricant and metal filled the air as Poe crouched beside BB-8, giving the droid an oil bath.

“Hold still,” Poe said, his voice animated. He held a rag as he worked a polishing cloth over BB-8’s rounded body. “You know, if we ever get into real trouble on a mission, you’re gonna need to be faster. We could mod your servos—make you the quickest droid in the Galaxy!”

BB-8 gave a hesitant chirp, tilting his head.

“Oh, come on, it’s not dangerous,” Poe insisted with a grin, not pausing in his work. “I mean, probably not. I’d test it first, of course.” He leaned back, squinting at a particularly stubborn smudge before rubbing it away.

“And speaking of missions, wait until you hear this new plan I have,” he continued, his excitement bubbling over. “Remember that old ship that’s buried? What if we start bringing the parts here? We could totally try to do some of the repairs ourselves. Grandpa can probably help us get replacements—or better yet, we could just borrow Dad’s ship now that he’s back. Do a quick trip to a scrap yard, grab a new computer, hyperdrive, everything we could need. I’ll make a list! We could sneak out at night—nobody would even notice. It’s totally safe, foolproof, and we get to build our own ship. What do you think?”

BB-8 trilled a skeptical response, his dome tilting dramatically ready to deliver a lecture You’re ridiculous. You’re ten. You cannot fly a ship by yourself. We are not going to a scrapyard. I’m not playing nanny. It’s not foolproof. It’s not doable. It’s hothead thinking.

Poe laughed, scrubbing at a streak of grease on BB-8’s dome. “What, you don’t think I could pull it off? I bet Mom would’ve let me try. She always said we’d build a ship together for me to fly—and that she’d let me do the testing, too.”

His voice softened, and his hands slowed, the cloth resting against BB-8’s dome. “And with all the stuff she taught me when she let me take laps? I think I’m ready to fly on my own, BB. Really.”

The playful banter faded, leaving behind a quiet stillness. Poe’s words lingered in the air, and with them came memories—flashes of Shara Bey’s face, radiant as she smiled down at him in the cockpit of her A-wing. He could almost hear her voice, warm and steady, guiding him as his small hands gripped the controls for the first time. “Feel the ship, Poe. Let it become part of you. Trust yourself.”

The ache inside of Poe returned, sharp and raw. No matter how many days passed, no matter how many distractions he found, that hollow place in his chest never fully healed. His heart? It would always belong to her, bound by every moment she’d spent teaching him, loving him, being everything to him.

Poe’s breath hitched as his hand slipped from BB-8’s dome to the small ring hanging from a metal cord around his neck. His fingers closed tightly around it, the cool metal grounding him. He stared at it, his vision blurred by unshed tears.

It had been hers—her wedding band, worn through countless battles, always a part of her even when she was far away. Now it was all he had left, a fragile connection to the warmth and love that once felt unbreakable.

His chest constricted, and a wave of dizziness swept over him. The memories came rushing back—her laughter, her steady voice, the comforting touch of her hand as it guided him. They swirled in his mind, overwhelming him, dragging him into the ache of her absence, his hands started shaking, the weight of feeling alone in a galaxy that suddenly felt too big, too quiet, threatening to drag him down.

BB-8 let out a soft, worried chirp, rolling closer to nudge him gently, a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone. The sound broke through the haze, Poe blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in his throat. BB-8 chirped again, this time a quick, deliberate sequence, trying to lift up the mood.

Poe froze, blinking. “Wait... what? Did you just say—‘What do you call a Wookiee with bad manners?’”

BB-8 let out a series of exaggerated beeps and whirs that were unmistakably the punchline: A Chew-bad-a.

Poe stared at him for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter that echoed through the room, shaking his head as the pain in his chest eased—just a little. “You’re ridiculous,” he said with a grin, rubbing at BB-8’s dome again. “But thanks, buddy. I needed that.”

BB-8 gave a proud whistle, spinning his dome. Poe wiped at his eyes, his laughter filling the garage.

“You’re impossible,” Poe said, shaking his head but smiling brightly. “Seriously, buddy, if you had ears, they’d fall off with all the junk I tell you. But you win in the dumb department, because you come up with things like that.”

Kes appeared in the doorway just in time to catch the tail end of the laughter. Arms crossed, he leaned against the frame, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched them. The boy who had once been so silent, his grief a heavy shadow, now talked nonstop to a droid who somehow understood exactly what he needed.

“You two throwing a party in here, and I didn’t get an invite?”

Poe turned, grinning as he wiped a smear of grease from his cheek. “Nah, no party, Dad. Just me and BB-8, talking about missions, but yeah, we’re just hanging out.”

BB-8 let out a small chirp, swiveling his head. He was trying to ask me to go to—

Poe cut him off before he announced his not so innocent plan “Shut it! You metal Batuuan clementine”

BB-8 emitted a sharp, offended beep at being compared to an orange fruit. He quickly extended his manipulator arm and poked Poe in the side.

“Stop! Stop!” Poe burst into laughter, trying to fend off the pokes as BB-8 persisted. But in his attempt to evade them, Poe accidentally knocked over a can of oil, spilling it onto the floor. “See what you did? Stop, BB!” he chuckled, wiping his hands on his grease-streaked pants.

Kes chuckled as he stepped forward. “I remember when you two didn't get along, now he’s got you wrapped around his circuits, kid.” He ruffled Poe’s hair, earning a half hearted groan of protest.

“Yeah, yeah, he is the best or whatever” Poe muttered with a grin as he headed towards the workbench and grabbed a rag to clean up the spill, leaving Kes alone with BB-8.

Kes knelt beside BB-8, placing a hand gently on the droid’s polished dome. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “For taking care of him. For bringing him back to us.”

BB-8 chirped softly in response, tilting his dome slightly. It’s my job. And for Poe? I’ll do it anytime.

Kes smiled, patting the droid gently. “Well, you’re part of the family now. Don’t let him boss you around too much, though.”

BB-8 emitted a smug, drawn out beep, I’d like to see him try.

Kes laughed quietly, glancing toward his son, who was now diligently scrubbing the floor with a rag while muttering under his breath. For the first time in a long while, Kes felt a small, genuine warmth in his chest. They weren’t whole—but maybe, just maybe, they were starting to heal.

Years later, as Poe stood on the bridge of a Resistance cruiser with BB-8 by his side, they were moments away from taking off. They had just abandoned the Yavin 4 base after a First Order bombing, and Poe could see the planet shrinking in the distance, unsure if he would ever return home.

He thought back to all his time there—his home, his childhood, his family. Through  all the stress and chaos that surrounded him, every battle, every loss, one constant remained: BB-8.  had been there—a steadfast friend that reminded him of the resilience inside him, the one that his mother had instilled in him.

BB-8 rolled forward and bumped Poe’s shin, urging him toward the main platform where his X-wing awaited, ready to launch and join his squadron’s defense.

“Ow—do you always have to do that?” Poe groaned, rubbing his shin. BB-8 chirped urgently, insistent. “Rude? Don’t say that, and yes! I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Poe strapped himself in and started running the preflight checks as fast as he could, trying to really focus on the task at hand. But there was still that nagging feeling of hopelessness that followed him around sometimes when things got tough. With the First Order on their heels, the pressure threatened to push him into a full-blown panic

BB-8, ever perceptive, sensed the shift in Poe’s demeanor. The droid beeped from the back of the ship, his sounds coming through the comms on Poe’s helmet. BB-8’s voice crackled through the comms, full of concern, Poe, you okay?

Poe blinked, the sudden question snapping him out of his reverie. He looked down at the controllers and switched some of them, swallowing the unease pooling in his chest. “Yeah, buddy,” he said, voice wavering just a little. “I’m fine, fine, go ahead with pre takeoff.”

Don’t you dare go back to that dark place. BB-8 insisted, not being convinced by his owner’s tone.

Poe took a deep breath, one that caught and held like it was the last one he’d have for a while. The weight in his chest lightened, if only for a moment, by the simple, unwavering presence of his droid. His shoulders rose and fell as he steadied himself, a tightness in his jaw relaxing. “No, I’m not going back there,” he said, more to himself than to BB-8.“I’m not.”

BB-8 let out a dramatic whistle, the kind that would have made Poe laugh if the moment had been different. Good. Because I’m tired of being a therapy droid, and you’re starting to test my patience.

Poe chuckled despite himself, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re more than a therapy droid, buddy.” He said as his x wing engines came to life, and the ship started going forward to take off. “You’re my family.”

Last Post of Poevember, I had a blast making stuff for my favourite pilot, thanks to all who supported Baby Poe stories and art, really means a lot to me!

HAPPY POEVEMBER! See you all next year!

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

@eyelessfaces @howellatme @ierofrnkk @silvernight-m @ingoldthewizard

@winniethewife @midgardian-witch @ominoose

[horrorvisuals]

The Dark Eye (1995) is a first-person psychological horror adventure where you recite Edgar Allan Poe's stories through the perspectives of both murderer and the victim.

It features uncanny valley grotesque, stop-motion visuals, and clay-modeled characters.

Plays in a classic point-and-click adventure style, the game doesn't really put you into any life-or-death situations or doesn't give you choices. There are stories to go through and you are there to witness them.

Throughout the game, you go through some of Poe's favorite stories: The Cask of Amontillado, The Tell-Tale Heart, and Berenice.

Additionally, you can listen to William S. Burroughs' voiceovers featuring The Masque of the Red Death and Annabel Lee.

Many of these scenes play as QuickTime movies. Sometimes in full-screen, or sometimes in smaller, looping segments. The game as a whole has an experimental look and these only add to its already creepy atmosphere.

While the game features Poe's known stories, it doesn't ONLY rely on them but rather uses a unique plotline as a framing device. The gameplay occurs in two different aesthetic modes. While one is more realistic, the other is dreamy or perhaps even nightmarish.

Set in the late 1800s (as interpreted, not confirmed), the nameless character visits his uncle Edwin. Controlling this character, you meet Edwin himself and your brother Henry.

You then have a whiff of the paint thinner Edwin was using while painting, and go into a "trip".

Developed by Inscape, it was released for Windows and Mac OS. The game is now in abandonware status and you should be able to find it online.

If you want, can play it on your browser here: https://classicreload.com/win3x-dark-eye.html

[glamfellens]

replaying poe!!!! so im having some Tarren thoughts:

born in old vailia, her parents emigrated from the white that wends

need to work on the specifics for why but they left young...I want to say it was a love match that was frowned upon so they decided to be together and make a new life elsewhere

Tarren was a twilight baby who came much later

by the time she was born her parents were well established in old vailia in service of a (middling) landed family.

disparity in ocean folk lifespan vs glamfellen lifespan.... in return for a couple of generations worth of service, family offered to pay for Tarren's education, making her a ward of the family

(for reference on tarren's standing and familiarity with the family following this, using Wickham's position, and his and Darcy's relationship from pride & prejudice as a model)

her cipher abilities manifested as a child...perhaps around 11 or 12

they were treated as more of a novelty and parlour trick more than anything by her friends and peers, family took it more seriously

Tarren leaned into this, enjoying showing off by giving foreboding, cheering or mysterious readings depending on her mood/who she was doing the reading for (and who she was Performing for)

Tarren's parents pass on at some point later... sad but not tragic, they had long rich lives. Tarren is independent now

later on, well into adulthood, is when a rival family causes the downfall for Tarren's family, causing her to flee Old Vailia entirely.

[astorythatwritesitself]

OC Meme - Adrian Shepard

Nobody asked for this, but y'all are getting it anyway because I saw @omniblades-and-stars & @stormikins do this and it looked fun, so!

(By @valkblue & @eluvisen respectively!)

GENERAL

Name: Adrian Olivier Shepard 

Alias(es): Addy (from her family), and ofc the usuals via Alliance/Normandy crews (Shep/Shepard/Commander)

Gender: That's something to think about in peacetime 🫠 Just kind of runs with whatever others perceive; defaults to she/her pronouns. (Adrian's somewhere in the transmasculine range, and did pursue some some body modification during college - but all of that just dropped the fuck off after Akuze & then… like. -gestures @ everything that happens + Lazarus undoing a few things & she didn't intend on living long enough for it to matter any more-) 

Age: 28 - 32, depending on game. (Although she's also had the fun questions, post-Lazarus, about how exactly to quantify that...)

Place of Birth: SSV Toronto, during a stint in the Exodus cluster. 

Spoken Languages: English, smatterings of Quebecois French, Spanish & Russian, surprising fluency in Galactic Standard (aka the ever-evolving pidgin of Citadel space). 

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual with very limited instances of romantic interest.

Occupation: Commander in the Alliance Navy (if we want to get really technical: a special operations saboteur/data gatherer - she wanted to be a medic or get into diplomatic relations, but like hell anyone was letting a biotic stay on the sidelines entirely)/Citadel Spectre.

FAVORITE 

Color: Indigo blue

Entertainment: Music, books - not all that big on shows/movies, with the notable exception of a couple medical dramas.

Pastime: Swimming, upgrading/hacking omni-tools, poetry memorization/recitation (all-time fave/longest she can do from memory is The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock), model ship building, galactic politics, collecting rock & mineral samples from various planets she's been to, photography.

Food: Toss-up between Blast-Oh’s and seaquats (nickname for a Kajhe-native spiny pink & white ocean fruit, size & shape is similar to a kumquat. Taste is vaguely briny, then very sweet).

Drink: Masala chai.

Books: The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the collected works of Edgar Allen Poe (The Black Cat is her favorite story of his, Annabelle Lee is her favorite poem), For She Is The Krogan Queen: The Legacy of Shiagur.

HAVE THEY 

Passed University: Went through & passed an Alliance military college - majored in cybersecurity, though she still took a few classes relating to paramedicine.

Had Sex: Yes

Had Sex in Public: Not yet. 

Gotten Tattoos: Got a stylized thresher maw tattoo after Akuze - the body segments were done using the names of the lost unit; she was /not/ happy to see it gone after waking up in the lab.

Gotten Piercings: No

Had a Broken Heart: The better question is if it's ever not been kinda broken, tbh. There's a lot of disillusionment & heartache as she grows up & starts her career - she moves around a lot, so getting attached to anyone will go and hurt (and keeping herself distant hurt just as much, just in different ways). Her parents are both career military - one ground and one medical, she's always surrounded by talk of loss and death; not to mention the just... slow motion trainwreck that is their relationship. She loses her unit, loses the man she was just falling in love with, sees humanity and the galaxy at large pushed to the brink...

And we uh. We're just not going to talk about how she reacts, in the canon!verse, to losing Thane, Mordin & Legion.

Been in Love: Yes - there's a couple probable cases earlier in her life (notably Kaiden Alenko), but Thane's the first person she can definitively say she's fallen in love with.

ARE THEY

A cuddler: Y'know how after being malnourished for long enough, someone has to start so very slowly to be able to eat again? Yeah, Adrian /was/ a cuddler, but it takes a long time to get back there.

Scared easily:

She is so very scared. So very much of the time. There's so many people depending on her and so many bad things that can, will, and have happened if she fucks up, and her fear of doing that again is what keeps her going. Totally sustainable, right?

Jealous easily: Nah. 

Trustworthy: Mostly - but she's pragmatically minded enough that she is willing to use what she knows to her advantage, if the situation calls for it. When it comes to the battlefield though, oh god yes. Ever since Akuze - she'll be first in and last out, no matter what, as long as she has any say in the situation.

FAMILY 

Siblings: Yes, though they show up… way later in her life lmao. Her parents divorce, dad gets together with a turian doctor, & they adopt a couple kids . Due to Shenanigans involving said dad pretty much totally changing his first and last name, said kids don't quite realize their new big sibling is That Commander Shepard until she shows up for the holidays. She also considers Grunt something of a little brother.

Parents: Alive and (relatively) well, all throughout the series - in the standard canon, they actually far outlive her.

Hannah Shepard was from a career military family, while Adrian Alexander Bishop was a foster kid who needed a med degree. They were both in the RMC at Kingston when the Prothean data cache was uncovered and joined the Alliance together as soon as humanly possible, honored to be among the first of humanity to explore the stars, and eager to leave what legacy they can.

 Their marriage is a fucking disaster and only held up as long as it did because Hannah was often gone for quite a while on postings - they're functionally separated by the time Adrian's in high school; divorced not long after Hannah's actions on Torfan.

Children: Never intended on having kids in any capacity, but she does wind up a step-parent to Kolyat. (For the first couple years while everyone's adjusting to things, it's fucking hilarious to see just how deeply uncomfortable they both get when reminded of this fact.)

Pets: Fairly successful at keeping fish. (Also has an extensive menagerie of pet rocks).

[juyeonszn]

AND THEN THERE IS YOU

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader (gn technically since there are no gendered terms)

WORD COUNT 1.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒very slight angst like blink and u miss it

WARNINGS another fic of mine that doesn’t require an 18+ warning… fawn in her tamed era 🙏, ur heart will ache from how </3 this is, mentions of divorce, reader had kind of a shitty childhood, reader also has some intimacy issues, hak is the most patient and kind person ever, throws up everywhere bc me when </3

SUMMARY he was content loving you until you were ready to love him.

MORE ANDDDDD my insanity strikes again!!!!1!1!1! aka in my dr. seuss william shakespeare edgar allan poe steven king arc 😍 my inspiration has been crazy lately, so enjoy this before juyeonszn goes into a drought deeper into the semester 😭 ANYWAYS MAE (@maessseongs) HERE U GO!! i kept it fluffier and kinda short bc it just felt right, i hope that’s okay with u! this is the last request from my 100 followers event so far ✨ prompts used are: 2, 7 >:)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

Relationships were a weird concept to you. Growing up, you’d never really been shown affection. Your parents weren’t the type to pack your lunch for school in the morning and send you off with a peck on the cheek followed by an ‘I Love You’.

In fact, they never told you that they loved you very often. Maybe a handful of times in your whole life did you hear those three words uttered from them. And even less did you hear that they were proud of you. It was worse when you took a step back and watched their own crumbling marriage.

As long as they’d been together, you never heard them tell the other how much they were appreciated. They fought more than they got along. You usually fell asleep to the sound of doors slamming and loud arguing in the hallway. When they finally decided to get a divorce, you almost cried out of joy. They were draining more out of you than each other.

So, perhaps that had to do with your fucked up view of relationships as you became an adult. You could never fully comprehend what love was since you didn’t exactly have stellar role models. Boyfriends came and went, losing interest as soon as they realized how disconnected you were. Your heart was never truly in it.

And then, you met Haknyeon.

Sweet sweet Haknyeon, who only cared about your happiness and your well being. Haknyeon, who didn’t ask you for more than you could give. Who didn’t push you for answers when you shut him out. Who patiently waited on the sidelines while you rebooted yourself.

If there were a higher being out in the universe, they’d done an excellent job at putting all the best qualities into Ju Haknyeon. By some miracle or a stroke of luck, he found his way to you. You’ll always think that he deserves better than you, but you’ll also always be eternally grateful that you have him.

As summer takes its last breath and the air begins to chill, leaves wilting to the streets and crunching below the feet of passersby, your motivation to get up in the mornings has started its tumultuous decline. You don’t know what it is about the change in seasons that continues to put a damper in your mood as the years go on, but it’s become almost too much to bear. It was no longer a dull pressure in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind. Now it was a heaviness that settled in your heart and weighed you down.

It was a Thursday evening and you were tucked into bed already, despite a peek of the sun still visible over the horizon. Your head was pounding despite the room being silent. You curl into yourself further just as your bedroom door creaks open. Haknyeon whispers an apology, going to exit the room when he sees the state you’re in.

It was standard for him to leave you alone until you were ready to talk. He knew you had a hard time opening up, considering what you’d grown up with, and he didn’t want to be the person who pestered you to tell him what was wrong. He wanted you to feel comfortable coming to him first. Haknyeon couldn’t handle being the reason you were pushed to your breaking point.

But for some reason, this time is different. You don’t want to be left alone. You want to be held. You want him to kiss your forehead and tell you he loves you, unlike what you had when you were younger.

“Hak, wait,” you call, voice slightly hoarse. “Stay. Please.”

He’s taken aback by your request, but doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He climbs into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your center. In spite of the fact that this wasn’t a usual occurrence, that cuddling was something you’ve only done a couple other times, he embraces you as if this was second nature for him. As if holding you in his arms was his very life source.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly, words spoken gently into your hair.

“Mhm, I want this,” you nod, nuzzling into his arm. “I have never felt this safe with anyone before.”

Haknyeon’s breathing stutters. You’ve never admitted this to him before, you’ve never ever said ‘I Love You’, but he’s always been willing to wait. He understood that this was a new territory for you. He was content loving you until you were ready to love him, even if it took months— even if it took years. That’s how much he cared for you. In his eyes, you were the reason there were stars in the sky. You were the reason why the sun rose in the morning and why the moon shone at night.

He kisses your temple. “I’ll be here to protect you.”

You turn in his arms to get a good look at his face. Because it was so rare that you were this close, you wanted to memorize his features from this distance. You trace his cheekbones and jawline with your thumb, eyes flickering down to his lips.

You lean forward, minimizing the gap between you to press your lips into a sweet kiss, almost as sweet as him. Haknyeon gasps out of surprise, but quickly reciprocates your affection, bringing up a hand to cup your face. He allows you to set the pace, to move at a speed you were comfortable with in case this was all you wanted.

When you pull back to catch your breath, he smiles, taking in how pretty you were. He could never get enough of you. He thinks that was his biggest flaw, being so greedy when it came to you. He couldn’t help but indulge himself every time you let him, though if it were a sin, he’d gladly commit it over and over again.

“However many years we have left, I wanna spend them all with you.”

You feel the tears dripping down your cheeks before you register that you’re crying. You couldn’t possibly fathom how Haknyeon came to find love in the form of you; the hollow shell of a person who’s never felt the warmth of another human in their life. You didn’t think you deserved someone like him. The only logical explanation was that you were a saint in a past life, and the higher being you mentioned earlier was rewarding you for it.

But even so, he loved you. Enough that he wasn’t afraid to spend the rest of his life with you waking up on the other side of the bed.

He swipes away some stray tears with the pad of his thumb and kisses your nose. You let out a small laugh, connecting your lips once more. It conveys all you want to say, but you know saying it out loud will make it concrete. It’ll solidify what you’ve been building up the courage to finally tell him.

“I wanna spend them all with you, too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[k00320717]

Artist Secondary Research

(The artist I have researched include Gothic ceramicist, painters and animators)

Modern Gothic Artist: -Ceramics:   Emil Melmoth sculptures resemble bizarre religious medical experiments, crafted to a high degree of grotesqueness and macabre sensibility with meticulous detail.  The extreme realism of his work demonstrates horror. Melmoth's sculptures include Gothic martyrs, women, children, demons, and hybrid. His sculpted imagination suffering greatly, as though their very nature were pain.  Melmoth’s works ae described as “portraying macabre, fragile, and powerless aspects and philosophies of life. Melmoth’s wax anatomical models revel in a dark and surreal environment, where his depraved sculptures live in affliction. 

Iloknust is an artist who specializes in pen drawing Gothic macabre style exploring the darker aspects of the human experience. 

Paintings:  John Jude Palencar s an American illustrator and fine artist who specializes in works of fantasy, science fiction and horror.  Johns works include darkly surrealist solitary figures.  Palencar, whose work has graced the covers of horror and science fiction novels by Stephen King and J.R.R. Tolkien H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and many others.  

Animation: Henry Selick's know for stop motion films such as ‘Coraline’ and ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’.  Henry Selick first became recognised when he was approached by an old acquaintance, director Tim Burton. Tim Burton was producing a stop-motion animation feature film for Disney, but did not have the time to direct it himself and needed someone to direct and to supervise the developing process. Selick was hired as the director for "The Nightmare Before Christmas" (1993), the first full-length, stop-motion feature from a major American studio.   

Ray Harryhausen was an American British animator and special effects creator who created a form of stop motion model animation known as "Dynamation". His works include the animation for ‘Mighty Joe Young’ (1949) with his mentor Willis H. O'Brien for which the latter won the Academy Award for Best Visual Effects; his first colour film, ‘The 7th Voyage of Sinbad’ (1958); and ‘Jason and the Argonauts’ (1963), which featured a sword fight with seven skeleton warriors. His last film was ‘Clash of the Titans’ (1981), after which he retired from filmmaking. 

Goth fashion:  In late 1970s and early 1980s Britain, the Gothic subcultural style was a DIY affair.  In the economic recession of the late 1970s, an improvised approach to style became a necessity for many young people.  As the economy boomed later in the 1980s, this remained a form of resistance to a mainstream culture that fetishised wealth.  Further on those pursuing an alternative style would raid jumble sales and charity shops, recycle army surplus, customise high street fashion and make their own clothes and accessories. 

This creative approach to style has been the key to the Gothic subculture’s fashion. Goth has always been about mixing things up and adapting what you find to fit your own aesthetic. 

The Goth aesthetic distinguished itself from punk through its preoccupation with imagery of death and decadence. The earliest goth ensembles, like those associated with Londons batcave club, were characterised by ripped fishnet stockings, repurposed bondage gear, deathly makeup and improvised chain jewellery. Towering, backcombed, dyed black hairstyles were a crucial element of the look. 

Goth style became more available to mainstream consumers through high street versions of designer trends.  In the US, the Hot Topic chain, founded in 1989, sold alternative style to teenagers through regional mall outlets. 

For some, this commercialisation diluted Goth’s countercultural charge. In contrast to the DIY culture of the 1970s and 80s, a desirable Goth look became increasingly expensive to acquire. 

Nevertheless, the subculture proved resilient, expanding to incorporate new influences. By the later 1990s, hybridisation with dance music culture produced cybergoth.  Combining colossal platform boots, neon hair extensions, and tech accessories like masks and goggles evoked a dystopian, posthuman future

[hattiestgal]

SHOW ME YOUR LINEUP!!! 🫵🫵🫵💖

Oh boy oh boy!!!

Riley Foxglove (They/It/She): Fennec fox full of trauma and mischief. My sona, and the menace of Little Pocket. Bassist and vocalist for her band, BOY GIRL MISCHIEF! (<3 with Violette)

Violette Burrows (She/Her): Rat equally full of trauma, but also goth sass. Finally feels like she found home after an entire childhood spent traveling the country with her parents for business. Car mechanic and drummer for BOY GIRL MISCHIEF (<3 with Riley)

Omen Poe (He/They): Raven that is very much the falco type. Employee of a local hobby shop, tsundere but if you called them that they'd punch you, and the biggest egg you'll ever meet. Guitarist for BOY GIRL MISCHIEF! (<3 with Finnegan)

Finnegan Oakes (He/Him): Red fox soft kind boy. Wildlife photographer and trumpet player, and the carrier of many family legacies. Has a bit of an obsession with with historical aircraft, despite being avidly against war. A baker at heart (<3 with Omen)

Alex Lyn (She/Him): Spotted hyena washed out uni student who's finally figuring out his life. Avid hockey player, occasional strongman competition participant and ever sleepy. (<3 with Harlow)

Harlow Reese (They/It/Xe): Black cat equally washed out on uni, but being so silly about it. A complete nerd and appreciator of butches. Occasionally competes in super smash brothers competitions, but otherwise generally collects old obscure manga and video games (<3 with Alex)

Jack Foxglove (He/Any): Wolf tired gayboy, and older brother of Riley. A kind soul looking to help others by studying to become a therapist. Very full of punk swag and an absolute role model all round

Cake (She/It): Shiba inu girlthing. Consumer of many burgers and knower of an absurd amount of obscure facts about early generation game consoles. Collects a wide variety of retro games

Kiera (She/Her): Dragon sleazy cursed artifacts saleswoman. Actually the result of a god's divine punishment turned gender euphoria. While what she sells is cursed, she more realizes peoples fantasies while delivering justice to those who abuse their money

Lizzy (She/They): Taur arctic fox and the result of one of Kieras cursed artifact sales. Originally down on her luck, becoming a taur allowed her to capitalize on the novelty of being one to attract customers for a wide variety of services. Often appears at parties and is very well fed.

Lucy Diggs (He/Him): Rabbit loaded to the BRIM with trauma. Caught in a world constantly at war, given a new headmate with lightning powers and then quickly thrusted into the spot of figurehead for a freedom fighting rebellion to topple the system that perpetuates it he's being so brave about it.

Allison Dudz (She/Any): Albino alligator ex military soldier and mech pilot. Holds down a refuge in the abyss for those who walk it. Is actively on the run by a military force called ELIAS and the sort of kind of parental figure for Lucy. Another figurehead in the rebellion

(Currently Unnamed) (She/Her): Grey cat full of yuri related injuries. Also ex military but then she like kinda joined back in a way under a new name. Fought her way up the ranks to become the head of ELIAS

VUL-TURE (It/Its): Robot bounty hunter thats also a bit of a girlthing. Sucks at its job like really badly but tries its best. Has tried to assassinate the head of ELIAS twice to absolutely no avail

Scribley (It/Any/All/Your Pronouns): ??? BADASS AND INSANE. A BEING BEYOND GODHOOD MADE OF PURE MAGIC. UNSTOPPABLE BY ANY KNOWN MEANS

[beatricebidelaire]

what if jerome's family was also ..... not exactly a vfd family, but involved with vfd in some way. a financial backer. in the background. they're rich and powerful enough to get a way that their kids don't have to actually do volunteering work. don't have to join the training. like there's some, unspoken understanding, or even stated outright. a pact. maybe some family members do join vfd as active volunteers and get trained, but not all of them. and jerome's parents didn't want jerome to be trained as a volunteer - either bc the schism is worsening around that time, or they just don't think he's fit for that life, or whatever. but he still is fairly close with the volunteers - possibly knowing they're all involved in vfd heavily, possibly his parents kept everything away from him and didn't tell him about vfd. maybe he still grew up with the vfd volunteers but unaware what they're going through, or possibly he was banned from interacting with them but somehow jacques and him got close in their teenage years anyway.

if jerome never knew about 'vfd' - or at least, knew that his friends were in vfd - did beatrice know about jerome's family involvement with vfd, and when she left, did she want to model after this, use her money as leverage to ensure her kids would not be involved with vfd, did she negotiate with them, agreed to finance them if the kids were left alone, did that explain b&b's dealings with poe, a pawn of vfd's / one of peripherally vfd people who managed their finances

[melplath]

Welcome to my blog ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

My name is Melissa Rosé and I'm just a girl who lives in her dreamland with her many unicorns and fairies and whose life is directed by Sofia Coppola.

When I grow up I want to be a writer as Sylvia Plath (I love her).

When I grow up I wanna be like Sylvia Plath, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Jane Birkin, Brigitte Bardot, Sharon Tate, Priscilla Presley and Lana Del Rey.

I live with my grandma and I was raised by her.

I grew up watching Monster High.

I believe in ghosts and if I wasn't a human I would like to be a ghost or vampire.

My favourite movies are The Virgin Suicides, Girl Interrupted, Black Swan and Marie Antoinette.

My favourite musicians and bands are Hole, Lana Del Rey, Nicole Dollanganger, Elvis, Françoise Hardy, Nirvana, Sibylle Baier, Gracie Abrams, Taylor Swift, Mazzy Star, Ariana Grande, Marina, Jeff Buckley, The Smits, Olivia Rodrigo, Solya, Sky Ferreira, Birdy, Sadie Jean, Fiona Apple, Madison Beer, Honey Gentry, Mitski, Britney Spears, Remy Bond, Ha Vay and others.

My favourite writers are Sylvia Plath, Clarice Lispector, Franz Kafka, Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen and Emily Brontë.

My favourite books are The Bell Jar, Ariel, Sylvia Plath Journals, The Virgin Suicides, Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through The Glass, Wuthering Heights, Pride & Prejudice, Emma, The Invisible Life of Addie Larue and others.

My favourite animals are cats, bats, foxes, swans, bunnies, lambs and deers.

I like to write, read, listen to music, spend my day with my grandma, scroll on Tumblr, exercise, coloring, watch movies/TV and watch videos off scary stories or just history on YouTube. I like fashion too.

I dislike eating, people in general, leave my house, noise, Tik Tok, creepy men and pedos.

My favourite colours are purple/lilac, black and pink.

My favourite models are Vlada Roslyakova, Adriana Lima, Kate Moss, Gisele Büchen, Ruslana Korshunova, Natalia Vodianova, Snejana Onopka, Gemma Ward, Shalom Harlow, Sasha Pivovarova, Tanya Dziahileva and Carla Bruni.

Second blog: @thevioletsuicide

If you wanna know more about me you can follow my Instagram!! @ melplath

DMS are open just for girlies

Bye-bye

[sarah-ankh]

"does god exist?" Is a very simple question with, imo, a very complicated answer.

Setting aside the question of which god, I think the starting point is to establish if anything can be proven to exist?

The fundamental nature of human existence is that we live in a sort of simulation, a virtual reality constructed by our brains based on stimuli that cannot be objectively verified.

our brains project both forward and backward in time, compiling our lived reality from a collage of sensations gathered by faulty organs that are processed and updated in chunks, and a series of predictions based upon them. As such our experiential present is not a singular point, but a moment smeared across several seconds of both past and future.

The very essence of the world we inhabit is therefore fundamentally unreal and subjective. Merely the best guess of our subconscious. And add to this the "inter-subjective" realm of our shared culture that is itself an ever-shifting social construction.

To quote Poe; "all we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." And that includes gods and nations and corporations. And even the grass between your toes. It is all simply ideas.

God is as real as everything else within this vivid hallucination, if you believe he is.

I believe that religious beliefs play an important role in human psychology and society. Like the grain of sand inside an oysters shell, the shared belief in a god (or in any other religion or ideology) gives us a nucleus around which to build a community, and a cultural identity, and all else that comes with them, like the layers of lacquer that form a pearl. They can form a powerful core to your sense of self and your worldview and can provide a much needed stable anchor in your life.

To that extent, God, or the Gods can have as much power over a group or an individual as does a corporation. It is the collective belief in that entity that gives it power.

If you choose to believe in a god, you will naturally construct an idea of that god in your mind that will be incorporated into your individual simulated reality. You will personify that deity, give them will and ego. feelings and opinions that can be consulted, something outside of yourself.

That does not make them any more or less real than the grass under your feet, which is after all, only an idea constructed by your brain from a hodgepodge of texture and pressure on the skin, and a vague blob of colour in your periphery, all of which could have been drawn from your memories, or induced by electrodes and seem just as vivid and real.

I see the gods as archetypal figures. Personifications of aspects of our lives that give us a model for our behaviour, and a source of motivation. Or of forces acting in our lives that are too large or complex for an individual to understand or emotionally deal with.

Having belief in something greater than yourself can have wonderful benefits in your life. It can bring great peace and reassurance and even confidence. It can be empowering. And just as the object of your beliefs empowers you, so do you empower it in turn and allow it to act through you upon the world. Belief alters our inter-subjective reality.