#posting art soon so i figured i’d post more!!

[theswedishpajas]

💙🌌💀🌌💙

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[remxedmoon]

(You don’t know how much longer you can do this.)

hi the wip for this was absolutely not supposed to blow up. why does that have 1k notes. horrifying. anyways!!!! it’s update time baby!!!! 64 new assets this time around!

so that’s what the caption was supposed to be. this update was already pretty damn big and took a ton of time to make!!! and i was finally done!! but then my hand slipped and now we’re at 143 new assets. super sorry for the delay! That Was Not Supposed To Happen.

i’ll go more indepth below the cut, but this update encompasses all menu/profile art for both isat and sasasaap, battle portraits for sasasaap, every single pixel icon in isat (to my knowledge anyways), the dialogue skipping animations, and a few miscellaneous additions.

also i spent too much time on these to put them below the cut so Please God Look At My Icon Resprites I Spent 16 Hours On Them. enjoy!

okay first things first. why the hell is this batch 143 assets. so. i HEAVILY underestimated how many times the menu drawings are used in the games. even removing all of the custom art, it’s still ≈30-40 variations! that’s a lot! and once i finally finished everything, i got Posting Anxiety and somehow convinced myself that attempting Animation And Pixel Art (two things i haven’t done in YEARS) would be easier than writing a normal post. so here we are.

the custom art here is pretty much par for the course at this point. extra menu art for bonnie, extra expressions for the party in act 5, we’ve done this enough times that it’s expected. i am aware that bonnie’s custom menu art gets completely covered by the ui. i kept it in because it’s really funny (and also i didn’t feel like extending the sprite (but then the sasasaap version forced me to extend the sprite anyways so Whartever)).

once again, provided a spritesheet for sasasaap’s battle portraits! i do intend to cover both games, it’s just a slightly lower priority atm. unlike isat though, i’ve got Less (read “No”) experience with sasasaap, so there might be more issues with those assets?? apologies if there are, i’ll try to fix any issues that come up!

the Miscellaneous Additions i mentioned above are the sprites used on the teleport map and the loading screen, which is just a tiny version of the skipping animation. they were pretty small, so i figured i might as well get them out of the way!

not actually much to say about the 75 icons surprisingly! i haven’t done pixel art in about 5 years?? and that’s a Travesty actually these were super fun to make. i did make mockups for the overworld sprites earlier, but they aren’t Officially part of the redraws (yet) so they’re getting posted seperately

and also!! some exciting news!! this project might actually become a Proper Published Mod pretty soon!! i’ve been in contact with someone who’s willing to help me get everything set up, and i’ll be getting a Usable Computer around the end of the year!!!! it’ll still be at least a month before it’s up (i’d like to get the enemy art finished beforehand wauaua) but!!! still exciting!

okay, i think that’s everything relevant to the update!! i Definitely can’t fit all of the relevant assets here lol. but i’ll try my best ! please enjoy !!

[celestialkiri]

Hello, I found you due to the Journey to the West content you made on your other dedicated blog, and I must say I absolutely fell in love.

I was wondering if your content was still active because I had so much joy reading about Sophie and your version of Sun Wukong. And I’d love to continue reading and learning about them and seeing the beautiful art you’ve created.

As well as maybe throwing out some “what if”scenarios myself

But if you’ve closed that chapter of your art, I will respect it and refrain.

Hello! I'm glad that you love my JTTW art on my JTTW AU blog! It brings me so much joy! I will say that I am still active! But because in my real life, I am a trainee and soon I will get a permanent job it takes a lot of my energy so I admit that I have been fighting a big art blog. Still- I am active and I am not planning on leaving JTTW fandom! Hopefully when I get used to working and everything I will get my energy back on drawing! As for the "what if" and questions in my inbox, I have closed them because I get SO MANY of them on my other blog that I simply could not have time to answer all of them and it started to stress me out a little bit I admit 😅 I also don't want others to send me messages on inbox and never get an answer so I figured it's better to close it. BUT I AM ALIVE! I just need to kick this art blog or maybe I will just accept the fact that I want to focus on my job and I will just post more rarely, but it doesn't mean I am dead. 😭🤔🫡😅

Hope you have a good day!

[animalsalvationassociation]

Calling all Octo-Agents!

Yes! You! Please read till the end, and if you don't have the patience/energy for it rn, come back later! It'll be worth it I promise!

So the holidays are now pretty much over, (except for New Years ofc, but I digress.) meaning I've been looking for new ways to improve my Au. You see, it's come to my attention that I'm not as organized or as thorough as I thought I was.

I've created a lot of lore/characters for this Au, but not very many people really know what's going on anymore. Even I get lost, and it's been a little frustrating ngl. So, seeing as this blog is officially over a year old, I think it's time to "fix" my mistakes and take a new approach.

Ya'll might've noticed that I've been slowing down on content. I haven't been spending as much time on my art, meaning the quality (well I wouldn't say it's gotten worse) hasn't been as strong as some others I've created in the past.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a resolution for the new year, that's dumb and we all know those never last.)

So here's what I'm promising instead since this clearly is the only thing I'm allowed to work on at the moment (not saying I don't have other projects, but if I want to actually publish this story at any point I'm going to have to spend as much time as I can on it, meaning I have to make some sacrifices - RIP my FNaf's & Undertale fanfics)

1. Full Character Redesigns

Taking all the core characters (The Octonauts / Octo-Agents / Y.N. & Fae / The A.S.A. / C.L.A.D.E. / etc.) and giving them a full reference sheet with details, headcanons, and an updated design.

Creating family/relationship tree for those characters (parents/siblings/love interests/etc.)

Family/Team “Photos”

Crossovers (I will still be doing multiple crossovers and soon they will get their very own redesigns!)

2. Updating the Master Post

3. Updating the “Pinned” Blog Post

For reference this will no longer be the current top post with all of the A.S.A. members, but a poster I will create for the fanfic to make the blog appear cleaner. (I won’t delete that post I’m just going to unpin it since the designs are old and not as useful as they used to be)

4. Asks will open January 1st, but I will not start answering any asks before February 1st!

That is so I can properly prepare and reevaluate the blog’s content so there is more information available to anyone who wants to ask questions for the Octonauts/Octo-Agents.

5. A.S.A.’s Rating & Genre (Fanfic)

This story will now be classified as Cryptozoological Fiction, with partial Horror / Science Fiction & will be drawing straight from Folklore & Mythology. (For “Sci-Fi” don’t think space/aliens, think Cryptids in a scientifically evolved world.)

The rating is now PG-14

(Poll Results)

6. Fanfiction

This is really for the fanfiction itself. I’m still trying to figure out how to go about this. As of this current moment I have 1, maybe 2 chapters written out, and soon I hope to have more. However I am my own editor/beta reader, so it might not be as polished as I’d like to be, but I’m just going to have to accept that.

Unless I can find a bunch of people who can do that stuff for me, for fun, that’s the state this story will be in. You’ll have to have patient with me, I’m using all the tools I have at my disposal (Grammarly, Google Docs, LibreOffice, etc.) but I am a human with heavy ADHD and reading/comprehension disabilities, so please be kind.

7. Weekly Posts

I will still be posting weekly, just not on Tuesdays. I realize it’s only been stressing me out to post on that day every week and so I’ve been abusing my attempts at a proper sleep schedule because of it. I still work a very busy retail job and will have to get a secondary job sometime soon, so unfortunately you’ll just have to add me to your notifications if you want to know when I’ve posted.

8. The Future . . .

This one is for anyone who’s gotten this far. I want you to know that the Octonauts still mean so much to me. Even if we aren’t getting updates anymore, the community is still somewhat alive even if it's only a few of us. Maybe one day we’ll get our kickstart, but for now I will continue making content until I’m satisfied with the story and it’s ending. If I stray every now and then, that’s just because I have the attention span of a goldfish with a million hobbies and fandoms that constantly need attention. I love you guys and I promise to do my very best to make my mark on the internet, even if it’s for a silly kids show about talking/walking/nerdy animals who save fish every day.

9. January's Posting Plan

Week 1: Finishing the Octonaut's Headcanons

Week 2: My Christmas gift to the Community

Week 3: Silly Y/N & Fae Content (No it doesn't make sense, deal with it)

Week 4: Screencap Redraw

Week 5: Starting Redesigns

If you made it this far . . . here's a cookie and the secret formula.

🍪🍾

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

UNTITLED EVIL LUIGI AU COMIC THING | Page 2 & 3 of (???)

Eggman Bowser’s come to make an announcement. Particularly to shut down any premonitions Mario may be holding onto a little too tightly. Bowser and Mario are able to set aside their differences (for now, at least) so that they can work together on a common goal-- figuring out where the hell Luigi is.

(A/N under cut)

---

believe me when i say i really wanted to link all the pages together in a neat, practical way so that everything would appear more organized than it actually is, but tumblr hates me and won’t let my posts show up in the tags if i include a hyperlink of any kind. :D

i read somewhere that tumblr only disallows posts from showing up in tags if it includes an external link (vs an internal/link to another tumblr page), which, in theory, shouldnt be an issue since the pages i’d be linking to are also on tumblr but regardless it’s not cooperating with me anyway. i’ve been on tumblr for what feels like a million years but this is the first time ive tried to make my posts cohesive like this so if anyone knows how to fix this issue im all ears 🙃 for the record, everything related to this au will be going into the following tags on my blog: #my art, and #evil luigi au. we’ll just have to sort things that way for now, i guess 😭

i start work tomorrow so can’t say when there will be a new page but i do have a lot planned out already. so hopefully i’ll be able to continue what ive started for at least a handful of more pages 🤠 next page will be fun to work on. for a bowuigi-centered story, where’s the luigi?! he’ll show up soon. just in the form of a flashback for now though 👀

also sorry if my handwriting is evil. it’s just personally easier/faster to write out everything by hand than type everything out but i may try to type the next page’s dialogue to see how it goes and to see if it makes things look ✨cleaner✨

(also also i spent so much time trying to figure out how to draw them doing a handshake for the “truce” panel. i ultimately failed. therefore.... fist bumps LMAO)

[gremlinmodetweeker]

The Axe - Chapter 3 (Part 1)

Okay so I've done a lot of art recently, but as I've mentioned to some other people I want on a vacation for my anniversary so I'm back, I'm refreshed, and I was able to sit down and write the next part of The Axe. This fic is always super fun and interesting. I know medieval fantasy is always a turn off for me, so I don't expect many people to enjoy it, but I do think the world building in here is pretty impressive. Let me know what you think!

If you don't want to wait for the whole fic to be published over the next couple of days, check out my KoFi HERE

By the way, the whole fic is 24 pages size 10 Times New Roman. Full fic is about 11.3k. This is a long thing.

TW: mention of alcohol, public execution, gore description of corpse, religious figures

Wordcount: 6k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Behind The Dew You Sing To Me

You’d never been keen on execution wakes before, but today was different. Today, you wanted to see if you could learn more about the great hooded man with that glinting, silver axe. A part of you was afraid to so much as offer to help your uncle, but another part of you was too excited to stop yourself.

“You want to come to a hanging?” your uncle stared at you in bewilderment, “a hanging? Have you lost your gourd?”

“Uncle, I know what I want,” you sighed again, “I want to come with you. You only just got out of bed, you need someone to help you there.”

“I don’t need that much help,” your uncle snorted, “I’ll be just fine. You can stay back and do some work here. Buns need to be made for Halaxwake.

“But you need rest, uncle,” you chastised him again, “you have to rest just a little bit, right? Auntie would never forgive you if you got sick all over again.”

“She wouldn’t, nor would she forgive me if I came home empty-handed!” your uncle chuckled before glancing at you with a mischievous look in his eye, “why, you’re so eager to go I might think you’re looking to meet someone there!”

Your face flushed a violent crimson as you spluttered and coughed.

Your uncle hummed, “You really do like to get yourself into all the worst situations, dear. If I didn’t know better, I might even say you were looking to see a certain shrouded man! Maybe even, dare I say it, a certain mysterious hangman?”

You shamefully turned away as your uncle laughed.

“You think you’re so slick, don’t you!” your uncle’s grin was woven into his words, “I’d bet you really thought I didn’t know any better!” he calmed his laughter momentarily to heave the last load of loaves into the wagon. He took a moment to lean against the side and cross his arms over each other, shoulders back as he stood tall in the crisp air. You glanced back to see him admiring you with his wise grey eyes, “Come with me. If you’re anything like me or your father, I wouldn’t be able to stop you, anyways.”

Your blush hid behind your wide grin as you walked over to stand beside your uncle. He hoisted the wagon up and looked at you, casting you a wry wink before pushing the wagon forth along the dusky dirt road.

Your uncle pushed the wagon along the road, his eyes straight ahead as he hummed a gentle off-pitch lullaby under his breath, one you’d heard your auntie sing to your cousins. You walked beside him, admiring the wild poppernickins as they grew in bundles of little white and pastel orange-pink blooms along the fence posts on either side of the road. Occasionally, the flowers were overtaken by winds of orange-brown twineweed that snaked up the wooden posts and curling along the fencing. It interwove onto itself, making intricate patterns formed in the ivy under wilted papery white flowers. You figured that soon the farmers would be collecting the pollen for the Hanndoal’s-Turn harvest. You smiled at the thought, memories smelling of bright fruit coated in syrups and the taste of old brew ghosting through your mind.

“You think Ernest’ll have another batch of wink ready for this harvest?” your uncle interrupted your thoughts.

You turned to look at your uncle and blinked, “Wink? Um, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I hope so,” your uncle smiled, “I think Ernest’s wink always tastes the best, but don’t tell Leonard I said that.”

“I don’t think he can bring his head out of his ass long enough to hear you,” you snorted.

Your uncle laughed and shook his head, “Your mother said much the same, back when she was around. She never liked the Buscher clan, really.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

Your uncle kicked a stone out from underfoot, “She thought they were all pompous pricks. Thought they knew everything there was to know about gourds and squashes and the like, but they were all the sourest things you ever did chew on.”

You laughed, “That sounds like my mother alright! She knew what she was talking about.”

Your uncle shook his head, “Oh if you think they’re sour now then you should’ve been around for the older Buscher. That old tyrant grew gourds sour enough to pinch your lips clean off. Horrible things, really.”

“And here I thought Leonard was the worst farmer in the village,” you hummed.

“Leonard’s a right gem compared to his father,” your uncle said, “his father was a right good-for-nothing. You couldn’t talk to him for longer than a vigil before he’d go off about how we were bound to be under the rule of elves if we didn’t prepare for ‘the rise up’ or whatever he called it.”

“The elves?” you rolled your eyes, “I’ll admit, I might say he was right if I didn’t know better.”

“But you do,” your uncle pointed out, “we all know the elves won’t ever try to take over the continent. They’re the best warriors you ever did see, sure, but they’re not that bright. And anyways, they ain’t as evil as he made ‘em out to be, but you already know that yourself. Elves are all just a bunch of bastards with egos big enough to blot out Brak-Hah’s-Eye. And anyways,” your uncle smirked, “they still don’t know how to make any sort of good drink. They need us for a good party.”

You laughed and nodded along. If nothing else, you supposed humans had that going for them. You weren’t called ‘The Joyful Children’ for nothing.

You walked along beside the cart as it squeaked and jostled over the stones littered across the dirt road. It seemed to whine over each and every pebble it overcame as it was pushed closer and closer to where the bodies swung in the breeze. Just the thought of the place had chills crawling up your spine. How anyone was able to endure living in that forest of corpses was beyond you. But then again, most of The Axe’s life was a mystery to you. You’d never even seen the man’s face before.

The Axe was a man hidden in a shroud darker than the one he wore upon his face. He was a strange, curious thing made up of flesh, stolen bones and misplaced teeth. He was walking death through a field of corpse flowers. He was the peace made between a dying man and his maker. He was hatred and rage and bloodshed held within a porcelain vase. All of him was drenched in criminal blood, and yet his eyes were blue as a newborn’s.

This strange man had taken a place in your life unlike any other. No man stood with you when you kneaded the bread for the next wake, but he watched over your shoulder and asked about the herbs and spices you tossed into your mixes. He walked with you when you went to church, an invisible shadow by your side at all times. These past two god watches, when you went to church, you would look down at the stone tiles and wonder if The Axe sat below, a doomed man listening to the words of something floating ever beyond his grasp. Innocent eyes trained on the glowing light coming from beyond an iron grate. You wished you could sit beside him.

Your uncle trod along beside you, blithely ignorant to any of your personal quandaries. He bullishly pushed the cart forward, ignoring its groans of protest. His stone-grey eyes were trained ahead, never wandering from their final destination.

“Uncle,” you asked quietly.

“Yes dear?” your uncle replied with a curious lilt to his tone.

“Do you think that The Axe is a bad man?”

Your uncle hummed slowly. He adjusted his grip on the wooden handles of the cart as sweat bloomed up on his rosey forehead. He took a moment to stop and wipe his hairy forearm over his face, then shook himself clear and picked up the handles again.

As he began to push the cart again, he said, “I think he comes from a cursed line.”

“But is he cursed?” you asked.

Your uncle chuffed, “Oh he’s cursed alright. Cursed by a little girl.”

You screwed your brows tightly together, “Cursed by a little girl?”

Your uncle nodded solemnly.

“Cursed by a little girl,” he confirmed, “I heard it happened when he was sixteen, right after his father went out into the woods and offed himself. I can’t remember the details, but the basic idea of the story is that an execution went south and the man’s daughter cursed The Axe. What the curse is? I don’t know, and don’t you go and listen to anyone who says they do. Nobody does,” your uncle gave an affirmative nod, “but he’s cursed for sure. He sees the witch, the apothecary and Father Kim to treat whatever it is, but I’m betting that as long as that hood’s on his face, he’s a marked man.”

You shivered at the thought.

“I’m sad to hear it,” you said quietly.

“Well, that’s life when you’re a killer-for-hire,” your uncle chuffed, “you need to be prepared for those sorts of things. And,” he paused briefly to glance at you, “if you really wanted to get close to a man like that, you’d have to be ready for those sorts of curses being turned on you.”

You glanced away from the cart to look at more of the tangleweed fencing.

“I know,” you admitted, “but… I can’t help it.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” your uncle sighed, “I know I can’t stop you. If I were a nobleman, maybe I could marry you off to some prince from another land. As it is,” your uncle shrugged, “all I can do is warn you. I’d tell you to stop, but I’m not your father, am I?”

You grimaced, “No, but you’re a better father than mine.”

“You’re speaking of my brother-in-law, you know,” your uncle huffed, “but,” he adjusted his grip, “you’re right. My sister’s husband wasn’t exactly the best sort of man. I always thought he was a bit immature, but what he did when your mom died? I still can’t fathom it.”

You nodded and admitted, “I sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like if he stayed.”

“You’d be a farmer’s daughter,” your uncle said, “so if you prefer the fields to the ovens, maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed.”

“I like the ovens well enough,” you chuckled, “I’d rather Auntie in my ear than getting my legs cut off by a scythe.”

“You heard old Martin got it good last turning-time, did you?” your uncles winced.

“Old Hutch told me it was a nasty wound,” you nodded, “he had to send him to The Axe for further treatment.”

“At least with The Axe around he can mend some of the worst wounds we get,” your uncle mused before a scowl dawned his face, “mind you, he only knows to heal as many wounds as he gives out.”

The thought of The Axe’s words from your last visit rang through your ears.

“I don’t think he likes hurting anyone though,” you said.

Your uncle shrugged, “Doesn’t matter if he likes it or not, he’s a torturer and an executioner by trade. That’s enough for me to make up my mind.”

“But can he really be anything else?” you asked as you stepped around a particularly large stone.

Your uncle shook his head, “As I said, he comes from a cursed line. His blood is tainted by generation on generation of curse. I’d be surprised if he can even sow another line if he tried with you.”

“Don’t be so crass,” you huffed.

“What?” your uncle chuckled, “it’s not like he’s got much to give any son of his. An old axe and a sorry story? I don’t think I’d want to be born to that, if you ask me.

“And anyways, would you want to give birth to any son of his?” your uncle asked you.

You thought for a moment. The thought of being a mother was always there; it was expected of you since birth. You were raised to be a mother much like any other young girl in the village. You were given dolls to care for and stories to lull your newborn to bed before you’d reached your third cycle. Being a mother and a homesteader was just what being a woman in the village meant. That was life. You’d never really paid too much thought to it. If anything, you didn’t even know if you’d ever take a husband. Sure, one day it would happen, but you never put much thought into it. Already most girls your age were married off with a troop of children around their hips. You were a bit of an outlier by now. But, the thought of having a husband and child comforted you at the very least. One day, soon enough, it would happen.

But you hadn’t thought of having children with The Axe. By the spirit realms, you hardly even knew what his face looked like! For all you knew, he was the ugliest man you’d ever lay your eyes on in your life. He could have a rotting face, for all you knew. And yet… The thought of a child with him didn’t sound half bad. It was a thought you’d have to play around with more after you’d gotten to know him better.

“You’re thinking of it now, aren’t you?” your uncle groaned, “by Halax, I shouldn’t have even said his name. I shouldn’t be talking about him with you at all!”

You rolled your eyes at that, “Well, you want to warn me, don’t you?”

“I’ve warned you plenty!” your uncle scoffed, “I keep telling you he’s bad news but you won’t have any of it!”

“I’m having some of it,” you retorted, “just not all of it.”

“Well go on and have some more because I’ve got plenty to give!” your uncle shook his head, “I mean, look, I can’t change your mind. Go and talk to Father Kim if you’re really interested in that man. Father Kim seems to know him best, at least. And if a holy man thinks that it’s a good idea, who am I to judge?”

“So you give me your blessing?” you asked hopefully.

Your uncle sighed, “Not now.”

“But maybe soon?” you prodded.

“Maybe,” your uncle conceded, “but not anytime soon. I still don’t even know the man.”

“But haven’t you given him his rations for years?” you asked quizzically.

“I have,” your uncle explained, “but he isn’t much of a talker. He’s a bit spooky, actually. He’s so quiet I might think he was a louse.”

Your thoughts drifted to when you ate sweet buns together in the forest again.

“I think he just needs some encouragement to talk,” you offered.

“You’ve chatted to him plenty, have you?” your uncle grumbled.

You flushed, “I’ve spoken to him in passing.”

“In passing,” your uncle drawled.

“In passing!” you bristled up.

“Calm yourself, you prickly little poke bear,” your uncle laughed, “you’re acting like a schoolgirl here!”

“I am not!” you huffed.

“You keep telling yourself that,” your uncle smiled knowingly, “you’re only digging a deeper hole for here.”

“I-” you cut yourself off, “I don’t need to hear any of this. I’m better than this.”

“Are you now?” your uncle cackled, “look, your father isn’t here. Somebody has to act the part while he’s gone.”

“And that person has to be you?” you grumbled.

Your uncle gestured to the wide open fields around you, “Who else do you see?”

You bit your tongue harshly. He had you there.

Your uncle laughed as he carted the wagon along the trail, happily poking fun at your ‘schoolgirl crush’ and your youth as he made his way along the old road. You, for your part, flushed up to your poor mortified ears and stayed that way for the rest of the journey. Your uncle took endless delight as he moved the cart along. With a sigh, you accepted fate and walked behind your uncle.

Your uncle only calmed his laughter once you broke through the forest. The cart caught on tangled weeds as you travelled down the lonesome road to the old hanging stone. The trees were thick enough to cast a haunting shade over the two of you. In woods like these, a highwayman could be hidden behind any tree. Suddenly, you were terribly glad to have your teasing uncle by your side. Even if he was an older man, he still had a good bread knife tied to his belt. You had your own little dagger, but your uncle was a seasoned man with a quick draw. It wasn’t much, but anything was better than giving in to whatever the highwaymen demanded.

Your uncle huffed and puffed as he pushed the wagon along the overgrown road. You only knew to follow the path because the trees had been artificially cleared generations before you, leaving a winding trail that snaked erratically through the woods. Evidently, the wood cutters had only cut through the easiest trees, unable to move the monoliths that stood along the edges of the waxing and waning road. In some parts, the wagon only just barely squeezed through the gaps in the trees. You wondered how any of the large carriages were able to make their way through the trees when they already pressed down on you, crushing you like insects under their wild thumb.

Ferns and flowers peeked from behind the old woods to wave in the passing wind. You watched Brak-Hah’s-Eye blink in and out above between the tall pines as you walked along. As you drew further and further into the woods, you felt the chill of shadows creeping up along the back of your neck.

You were blinded when you broke into the bright opening of the Criahlin’s stone. The black slate shone, polished of blood and grime to prepare for the coming day. Around the edge of the circle, stalls had been set up to welcome in any visitor in need of a sweetlin or a swintlin. Someone had set up a stall to shine shoes, another gave out bags of grain for cart beetles. You couldn’t help but be amazed by how so many were able to come and capitalize on the death of a criminal.

Already, a group of townsfolk had gathered around a large loch tree on the far edge of the clearing. Beside it, a long ladder had been placed, leading up to a long twineweed rope. You followed the rope up, up and up to a thick and heavy tree bough. It looked as thick as a man, but it had been cut off after a couple of lengths to prevent the tree from covering up the entire clearing. You had to wonder how often someone had to go up and trim it back to keep it from taking up the whole space.

By the bottom of the tree, Judge Holten sat on one of the large roots that jutted up from the loamy earth. Beside him, Father Kim looked out over the crowd, lips pressed into a thin line. His dark eyes darted side to side as he took in the familiar faces of his congregation. You wondered what he thought of you all.

In the stall nearest to you, you could see Nikto sitting and watching the crowd with an amused look in his eyes. By his side, bottles of eggs, vegetables and even meats were put on display with delicate care. He glanced over your way and waved at you and your uncle.

“Ah, friends!” he called out, “come take the stall beside me!”

Your uncle waved back and brought the cart as close as he could. When he stopped the cart by Nikto’s stall, the old northern man rose to his feet to help you and your uncle set up your display.

You worked quickly with the extra set of hands. A few times Nikto stopped to help your uncle set up his display in a more appealing way. You laughed at the sight, but thanked him nonetheless. Halax knew that your uncle needed the help.

“No no no,” Nikto grumbled as he took the spider buns from your uncle, “put these on the middle shelf. They’re cute and sweet, so people will see them better if you put them there. And put the smallest buns on top! Trust me on this, old man.”

Your uncle followed the other man’s words, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But who were you to argue with Nikto? All his displays were immaculate. Even the products themselves were made so perfectly that you couldn’t stop salivating at the sight of them.

“How do you know how to make everything look so nice?” you wondered as you followed his guidance.

“Secret tips from my mother back home,” Nikto’s eyes crinkled behind his wooden mask, “mother always knows best, you know?”

You faltered briefly before flashing a wide smile, “Well, I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Nikto shook his head, “Mothers never leave their children, Criah doesn’t work that way. We always have our families with us.”

You smiled softly, “You think so?”

Nikto laughed heartily, “I know so! Mother never left. She’s always here,” Nikto thumped his chest before he leaned in conspiratorially, “and that’s how I know your uncle can’t set up a stall to save his life!”

You groaned but couldn’t hold back a laugh. Nikto was an odd man, but at least he was always a fun person to share company with. You shook your head and turned back to your stall.

“Well, it looks like we’re about ready to start selling,” you said as you admired the hard work.

“Can you manage the till?” your uncle asked.

“Are you offering to do the calling?” you replied.

Your uncle nodded and pointed over to the other stalls, “It looks like we don’t have much competition today.”

You glanced over at Nikto.

“My goods are meant to be brought home,” he shrugged, “not eaten here. Yours are better for the show.”

Right, the show. That was certainly one way of putting it.

“I can handle the crowds,” you told your uncle.

“Right then,” your uncle nodded, “I’ll head out and get to hawking.”

You watched your uncle walk out in the crowd, puff up his chest and call out in a big, booming voice. On que, a few customers eagerly turned and looked around before finding your stall and rushing forth. You didn’t understand how anybody was able to eat during these events, but evidently you were the odd one out.

Before long the line had formed and you were up on your feet exchanging coins for sweet and savoury buns. To your delight, a few customers immediately left your line to go over to Nikto’s stall to pick up some jars of his pickled goods. Nikto was never quite as popular, but having the top-selling stall beside him evidently did something for his numbers. A part of you wondered if he’d thought about this when inviting you over, but another part couldn’t care less. You were shopkeepers just the same as he was; you had to do whatever it took to make a good living in a small town. 

As the townsfolk came and left your stall, you did your best to focus on them rather than on the absence of the most prominent figure at the event. Wherever you looked, The Axe was notably absent. Of course you already knew where he was. He was probably bringing the poor victim to the gallows at that very moment. You knew the ritual well enough by now.

The executioner would go to the prison and then pick out the culprit. Then, the culprit would be carted to the outskirts of the forest, at which point The Axe and his victim would be dropped off and The Axe’s assistant would drive the cart back to the Axe’s home. Then, the Axe and his assistant would both make their way to the hanging site. Of course, the assistant would arrive first, and then the Axe would come through the clearing. Then, once they’d both arrived, the event would begin. That’s how it always was, it was how it always would be. A part of you wondered if there was another way. The thought of letting a murderer go free seemed unthinkable, but did they have to die themselves? You didn’t know. Somebody with more time on their hands might have been able to think over the problem more thoroughly, but as it was you only felt opposed to the executions, but weren’t able to think of any other good solution.

You watched the crowds slowly grow in number as they bumbled around your stall. The bread and buns were flying off the shelves at this point. Muffins were devoured before your very eyes. The throng of people was generating an electric buzz in the air, crackling with the winds through the trees. Judge Holten looked out over the crowd with a disdainful eye, Father Kim behind him with a more sympathetic expression. Even from here, you could see him shivering in the cool air. With how his hands had withered away, you figured they were probably more sensitive than ever.

Whispers rippled through the crowds. As with any gathering, you heard stories from all around the village. Some talked about the local drunk’s latest antics at the tavern. Another rumour was about what an old woman was doing with her pets in the shed out back. Someone mentioned that the butcher was getting a bit steep with his prices. Another said the nuns were getting frustrated with the lack of provisions provided to the church as of late. All these stories curled around the air with a whimsical twirl. The stories ranged from the banal to the completely bizarre in nature. The ones about the old woman and her pets stood out as a particularly egregious one.

You chuckled at the latest tidbit of gossip being thrown your way. You waved the man off with a big toothy grin and turned to help the next customer. To your surprise, it was none other than Salvatrice.

“Salv!” you beamed as you packed her usual order, “I didn’t think you were back yet!”

Salv played with an arrowhead between her fingers as she said, “Well, the raptor was pretty easy to track. It was too big to hide from me for long.”

“So, a successful hunt?” you asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Salv nodded, “a good hunt.”

“Great! So you’ll be selling it soon?” you queried.

“Once Tor breaks it down,” Salv frowned, “but he’s getting pricey these days.”

“So I heard,” you mentioned as you served a different customer.

“He’s asking for nearly a quarter of my wage now,” Salv grumbled, “I can’t keep up with that! Hunters don’t make that much, you know?”

“You’ve let me know a few times before,” you replied easily.

“Now he’s going around asking for a hundred stones. I can’t afford that! Nobody can!” Salv clenched her fist around the arrowhead.

“I’m sure the prices will go down,” you assured her, “Tor can’t keep charging those sorts of prices for long. The people in this village just can’t afford that.”

“Maybe, or maybe they’ll keep paying them because there’s nobody else,” Salv clenched her jaw tight.

“Well, I hope not,” you scrunched up your face, “I don’t want to think what people would do. The last cycle was bad enough as is.”

“I think it’s because of the last cycle that he’s charging these prices,” Salv shook her head, “he realised he can get away with it.”

“But those were desperate times,” you pointed out.

“And all the businesses took advantage of how vulnerable we all were,” Salv leveled a glare at you, “they learned from our weakness.”

You shook your head free of her thoughts, “No, I’m sure there’s a good reason. Tor isn’t a bad man. He’s not like that.”

“You say that,” Salv spat bitterly, “but I’m not so sure. I think he’s a blorgron.”

You glared at the dark haired hunter fiercely, “Don’t say that! We’re all just trying to recover after the flooding and droughts.”

“At the expense of the people!” Salv retorted.

You cringed and held up your hands meekly, “I don’t know. It’s not my place to say.”

Salv stared you down with coal-black eyes. Hot burning coals burned through your clothes to your very soul. Hatred, fury, injustice, it all flickered through her eyes before she settled on one final emotion: defeat.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she sighed, “you’re a vendor just like Tor. But,” she gave you a resigned half-smile, “you keep your prices affordable at least.”

“We try to,” you handed out another loaf of bread, “Uncle always wants to raise them up, but Auntie won’t let him.”

“She’s a damn good woman then,” Salv determined.

“She’s sometimes a good woman,” you grumbled, “she’s a slave driver if you ask me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking you,” Salv gruntled.

“I suppose so,” you said. You turned to say more to her when the crowd broke out into a roar.

Salv smirked as she took a bite of the beetle meat bun, “Looks like the show’s started.” 

Salv slunk into the obscurity of the crowd as you peered over the edge of your stall. You couldn’t help but stare as The Axe came into view, easily a head and shoulders above everyone else at the clearing. His hood fluttered around his clavicle with the wind as he strode forth. He looked around the clearing with blank eyes before they fell upon you. Immediately, they lit up with bright recognition, and just as they did, the light went out and he was back to the blank mask of before. You were the only person in the entire crowd to notice how he stumbled slightly when he moved past you to the Criahlin’s stone.

Once they got to the stage, the prisoner was finally revealed to you. A wiry man with a thin, pinched face. His eyes burned dark with a silent rage, furious and clawing inside him like a ravenous beast.

Judge Holten watched The Axe guide the man to the center of the stone, then down into a kneeling position. You winced sympathetically.

“Karl Hoffman,” Judge Holten pulled out his thick book of laws and perched it on his bulging stomach, “thirty-eight cycles, father of eight cycle Klara Hoffman and ten cycle Mathilde Hoffman. Husband of thirty–two cycle Martha Hoffman. Employed as a fishmonger, but was found out to have joined the Raptor’s Claws to steal a living as a highwayman.

“Karl Hoffman is accused of three charges of manslaughter, the assault and battery of two different women, battery of six different men, and accused of stealing over twenty thousand faces. For these charges he has been sentenced to death by choking,” Judge Holten smirked as he shut his book and tucked it under his corpulent arm and turned to face Karl, “you are a damned man, but I will be giving you one last chance at redemption. Do you take Halax as your lord above, in this life and beyond, forevermore?”

Karl turned his thin neck to glare down at Father Kim. You watched as Father Kim stood tall against the withering stare, unmoving in the face of evil. Karl pulled his head back, then spat directly into the priest’s face.

Karl turned back to look at Judge Holten’s reddening face and gave him a twisted grin with a mouth full of crooked teeth, “No sir, I don’t think I do.”

His whispering voice sent chills up your spine. The display itself was unthinkable. How anyone could revoke the name of Halax, especially in their dying moments, was beyond you. You stared, gobsmacked as Judge Holten awkwardly shifted his robes over his protruding belly and waddled side to side. Judge Holten glanced over to Father Kim, who had carefully used his coarse brown robe to wipe his face clean, marring the markings he’d painted onto his face that morning.

You glanced between the men as Judge Holten looked to Father Kim, he himself shaken by the flagrant display of utter disinterest in any form of honor or redemption for himself or his family. You trembled slightly as you waited for anything to happen.

Father Kim stepped forward and presented a bowl of black ink to Karl. The man tried to move out of the way, but The Axe clamped onto the back of his neck and kneeled into his legs. Father Kim gave the executioner a long, thankful look and then went on with his work. He gently placed his forefingers into the ink, then gently pressed them onto the man’s forehead. With a shudder of his shoulders, he painted a large eye on his forehead, then two slashes crossed over it. Father Kim rose back to his feet and steeped back with a mournful shake of his head. The Axe stepped back to hover by his side.

You watched as Judge Holten turned back to the crowd with a shaky breath. He looked up, his watery red-rimmed eyes glanced around before finally settling back on the crowd.

“Karl Hoffman has declared to the court that he does not wish to be reunited with Halax in the next realm. As such, he is declared lost, and Martha, Mathilde and Klara Hoffman are hereby stripped of their citizenship and declared lost as well,” even the horrible Judge Holten trembled like a leaf before he straightened up and turned to the hooded man by the back of the stage, “my Axe, if you’d please.”

The Axe stepped forward from the back of the stage to take the back of Karl Hoffman’s neck into his hand. He screamed bloody murder and thrashed against the giant man’s grip, kicking and spitting like a wild animal. The Axe tried desperately to give him one last chance of dignity by letting him walk up the ladder himself, but Karl immediately tried to dart into the woods. Within a couple of steps, The Axe had his hand back on the back of his neck and gripped it tight as he dragged the man back to the ladder. With one hand on the ladder and one on his victim’s neck, The Axe slowly crawled up the ladder while Karl dangled limply at his side. He tried to kick the ladder over but Father Kim was quick to stabilize the two. Karl screamed until his voice broke when The Axe rose to the top and finally looped a noose around Karl’s neck. With nothing left to do, The Axe slowly lowered Karl and left him to suffocate.

Karl kicked and gripped at the noose around his neck, lifting himself just barely to scream profanities at the gathered crowd. He spluttered and spat before he turned to his wife and cursed her and his children like nothing you’d ever heard before. Meanwhile, his wife watched him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Her rudy hair waved in the coming breeze as she watched her husband use his last moments not to declare his love to her, not to apologise for his actions, but to spew hatred the likes of which nobody there had ever seen. Even from here you could see her struggle to keep her wailing children at her side. Their littlest daughter stared up at her father with big black eyes, so much like her father’s but filled with sadness and love instead of hatred and fire. You could only imagine her asking her mother what it meant to be lost, what it meant now that their father was gone.

Karl Hoffman continued to kick and spit, but his grip grew weak and he slowly slumped into the noose. At that point, you turned away and focussed on packing up the rest of the bread. Some things were better left unseen.

Glossary

1. Halaxwake: The first day of the week/God-Watch

2. Poppernickens: A species of flower characterized by tiny five-petal flowers that grow in bunches along a tall stalk. Large round leaves shoot out along the bottoms of the stalks. The flower seeds can be ground to get a floral spice used in cooking. Leaves can be used as salves for burns.

3. Twineweed: A long vine once considered a pest plant, but is now used to weave fence posts together to create natural fences. The large white flowers are toxic to most animals, but the pollen has a pleasant smell that some people use as perfume.

4. Wink: An alcoholic beverage made from fermented fruits. Farmers often collect any fruit that spoils or grows poorly and use it to make wink for the end of the year. Each batch has its own individual taste. Usually, years with plenty of rain make the best wink.

5.  Vigil: A minute in their time, a bit over a minute in our time. Used as an expression for a short amount of time.

6. Elves: A warlike species known for being the best hunter/warriors on the continent. Their brutal culture is widely feared by others. Many believe that if elves were more intelligent, they would have organised to take over the continent and wipe out all other species. As it is, they are known for their brawn more than their brain, and thankfully they are too curious and entertained by other cultures to attempt genocide. They find all other species weak, but amusing enough to take as slaves for their own entertainment.

7.  Brak-Hah’s-Eye: The sun, the center of their solar system

8.  Corpse Flowers: A group of species of flowers that grow near decay. They are often seen as cursed flowers, and use of them is heavily prohibited by most laws. However, they are known to be excellent pain killers and excellent disinfectants. Have a notably bitter, sour taste. Look somewhat like snowbells or lady’s slippers.

9.  Turning-Time: Season

10.  Poke Bear: A tiny species of bear covered in spines. The animal will occasionally roll into a ball and charge downhill at its prey. Other times, it uses its long spined tail to defend against larger predators.

11.  Sweetlin: A round, sweet fruit, much like an apple but larger and more filling.

12.  Swintlin: A very sour fruit covered in a thick, black skin. Very citrusy and used in both sweet and savoury cooking and baking.

13.  Loch Tree: A type of coniferous tree that grows in the northern Mormonian forests. Grows to eighteen meters in height with long branches spiralling around to form a canopy below. The pine needles are hard, and often used as sewing needles to make clothes. The sap can be used for glue. The wood is notably difficult to work with because it is so hard, and it has a strong smell that lingers for years to come. Makes poor firewood because the sap forms large pockets in the wood, and when heated up explodes.

14.  Stone: Slang for a face. A face can be broken into one hundred fragments, which refers to cents. Every face is composed of one hundred fragments. Slang for a face is a stone, slang for a fragment is a pebble. Used as currency.

15.  Blorgron: A large, fat and unintelligent lizard with a broad head and a stumpy jaw. Equivalent to a pig, but a simple herd animal. Known for being simple minded and territorial over food. Often considered to be symbols of gluttony.

16.  Declared Lost: When an individual is legally declared lost, they lose their rights as a citizen in their nation. They are considered lost from the light of any god, and as such are considered lesser citizens. They cannot vote, cannot marry nor divorce, cannot receive medical treatment or any form of charity from the community. Many fall into complete poverty as others refuse to be associated in any way, lest they be dragged down with the lost ones. To be declared lost is the greatest social punishment a court can give out. Many will leave to go into exile because of the shame of being lost.

Part 2

Part Three

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

Full Fic on KoFi Here

[furiousflamingfeline]

What are your good and bad thoughts about the Reds 👀

Good question, I’m sure from recent posts on Reddit and other social media it might look like I hate the Reds. I don’t. 😇

I’ve been in this fandom for all 26 years and Blossom is my favorite character of all time, so I’m pretty much open to shipping her with almost anyone as long as it’s thoughtfully written and keeps her pretty much in character.

My small child started watching PPG last year which got me back into the fandom after being away for a while. Since then I’ve read pretty much all the Reds that’s worth reading on FF.net and AO3. Some great stuff out there, of course. But after a year of consuming Reds I decided I was tired of the pairing so I wanted to try writing Blossom with almost anyone else.

I mostly don’t like the fanon exclusive version of Brick when his entire character completely changes with no explanation, pretty much only just to make him a palatable love interest for Blossom. Hint: if the character has to change drastically to make Blossom like them, maybe it wasn’t meant to be lol. I particularly hate the dark triad mysterious badass trope that the fandom likes to give him. I just don’t buy it. I feel strongly that (IF the boys got friendly with the girls as they aged) Brick would just be slightly nerdy and a bit of a dweeb. Best comment I got on my story recently says he would grow up to be a dramatic theater kid and I can’t unsee it now. (A good example I can think of right now is “On Top,” on FF.net where Brick is just a giant goofball and Blossom’s exasperation actually makes their chemistry really adorable).

If a good Reds story comes across my dash I will definitely still read it, and I’ll never turn down a spicy Reds scene. But as far as actual realistic compatibility with Blossom? Not a fan.

This is the girl who envisioned a perfect society where the world is run by women. Brick in the canon, of course, is famously a misogynist bully. Making him mature as he ages is fine, but it’s just hard for me to buy that both characters would make a beeline in the complete opposite direction, not without some serious setup by the author.

So, that’s why I’m writing Harry Pitt/Blossom right now. I got sick of the fact that there were almost no alternatives for Blossom and I figured if I couldn’t find it, I’d write it myself.

My other OTPs are Blossom/Princess, Blossom/Butch and Blossom/Robin. (A multi-chapter Blossom/Princess story is already written and coming soon, but I gotta finish the art for it and proofread more before I post lol.)

My headcanon for Blossom is bisexual and for Brick is gay. One fic I read once that was super cute was Blossom doing Brick’s makeup for the first time after he begrudgingly asks for help. That, to me, is a peak Reds interaction. Brick dealing with his true self and internalized homophobia and Blossom being pure Everything Nice for him. Thats’s just *chef’s kiss*

Anyway this comment was way longer than intended lol. I just love Blossom and Brick separately and I wish they worked better together in my headcanons but I like them better as bi/gay rivals or besties rather than romantically.

[cellarspider]

16/30 Chemically inert

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We return to a movie whose biggest enemy is its own script, Prometheus. This is the second post today, because the previous one was so awful and I had very little context to add beyond anger.

So, now we come to a scene that made me wonder in the theater: what the fuck is going on with straight people?

A tangent is required at this moment, before we get back to pondering this question. Some of my friends like to watch their favorite science fiction shows with me, particularly if they have to do with genetics. Orphan Black, for example. This is because it is understood that I will regularly call out “Pause!”, and then they get to sit and listen to me alternatively praise or sputter over the fictionalization of my field of study. 

“Look. Their genetic material pre-dates ours. We come from them.”

Pause!

This is, probably, meant to hammer in the premise of the movie to a lay audience. However, the way she phrased it left me confused for a good long minute, trying to figure out what the fuck she meant. We don’t speak of any extant species as “pre-dating” another, even if they look exactly like their fossilized ancestors: all modern organisms are modern organisms. They have been continuously evolving the whole time they’ve existed. What we talk about is species diverging from each other. We didn't come from chimpanzees, or from neanderthals for that matter: we diverged from them.

(https://news.wisc.edu/naledi/) 

If I were to try and explain what she actually means by this: The particular Engineer they sampled from possess genetic sequences that are present in our evolutionary precursors, but have been lost in humans. That, and/or the Engineer possesses no sequences that are specific to modern Homo sapiens. 

To which my response is: no shit. They’re eight foot tall, completely hairless humanoids, surrounded by advanced technology. This is not Futurama.

This still doesn’t answer all my other logistical problems with when they got involved on Earth, which I already rambled about at length. 

But now we get to the real mystery of the scene: why are straight people?

I’m asexual as a rock. No, not that rock. But I’m not sex-repulsed. Sexual media and art is fine by me, but Hollywood does such a shit job with romantic chemistry that I thought I was for quite a while.

Shaw and Holloway are a couple. We know this, because they are a pair of female and male adult humans who work together in a movie. They have held hands and smiled at each other. Honestly, if Holloway hadn’t called Shaw “baby” soon after they woke up from stasis, I wouldn’t have known. 

Admittedly, this may be due to the fact that my “flirting or not” radar is hilariously non-functional most of the time. I have been on dates before without realizing it. Multiple times. It’s that bad.

This is the scene where we are supposed to see how they are romantic together, and how they grapple with their present situation. Holloway froze a rose in the cargo, along with a bottle of champagne. The fact that he has already been drinking heavily will surely make this especially fun, I’m sure.

Shaw, at least, acknowledges “[t]his is The most significant discovery in the history of mankind,” though I’d argue whichever early hominin first saw the big bald bastards already called dibs on that. I appreciate the gesture toward understanding the enormity of this situation, but her behavior hasn’t demonstrated it so far. Holloway’s, however, is even worse, and I think we are supposed to take Shaw as the more staid and reasonable one because of this.

With this and her further evidence that the Engineers made humans, Holloway immediately says “Okay. I guess you can take your father's cross off now.”

Yes. This is what you should say, when you’re in a long-term relationship with a religiously devout person who lost one or both of their parents at a young age. Definitely.

I get what this is trying to do, thematically. This movie is about the creation of life. We have a religious character squaring her faith with a piece of information that is incompatible with the literal text of her religion’s doctrine. 

Funny enough, we have a lot of religious people who work in biology already. Unless your religion was created last tuesday, there is literally no way it won’t contradict with some aspect of what modern science has discovered. People create the mental space for the supernatural, either merging or separating it from their field of expertise. Or they may not believe in the supernatural at all, instead subscribing to belief systems that provide an ethical and behavioral framework for their lives. 

A lot of scientists who are religious state that their religion is part of why they study the material world: Out of a love for the world, a call to aid others, or because the act of learning is seen as divine in itself.

This is also the kind of conversation that, frankly, two lunatics who believe in ancient alien contact with Earth should’ve had a long time ago. ‘Hey, you believe that big men from space were talking to the Sumerians, how’s that fit in with the whole Christianity thing for you?’

But no, he’s going somewhere hilariously baffling, via a direct route through the state of Wildly Insensitive as he barrels along the Clunky Dialog Highway.

“But here's what we do know: That there is nothing special about the creation of life. Right? Anybody can do it. All you need is a dash of DNA and half a brain, right?” “I can't.  I can't create life. What does that say about me?”

He FORGOT HIS LIFE PARTNER WAS INFERTILE.

“Ellie, that's not... I didn't mean… I wasn't talking about…”

Have you ever been so drunk that you made your girlfriend feel like Natasha ‘I’m a monster comparable to the Hulk because I was sterilized’ Romanoff in Age of Ultron

This is, as with most of the most thunderously clunky dialog in this movie, a plot point. There are ways they could’ve done this differently that I will get to at that time

But you know what’s even more baffling about this? Apparently that didn’t kill the mood.

It makes the next scene where Janek seduces Vickers with a jumpscare accordion and “Are you a robot?” almost make sense.

Or, frankly, Idris Elba and Charlize Theron are acting wizards who somehow managed to strangle some chemistry out of that scene.

Next time, the not-so-little death!

⛬ 

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://archive.org/details/abbott-and-costello-meet-the-mummy 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Nepenthes_cultivars 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ecce_Homo_(Garc%C3%ADa_Mart%C3%ADnez_and_Gim%C3%A9nez)#Failed_restoration_attempt_and_internet_phenomenon 

https://youtu.be/cZyj6GECjZ0 

https://youtu.be/nRr1t80TayE 

http://www.totheescapehatch.com/2012/06/escape-by-playing-stephen-stills.html 

https://www.discogs.com/artist/236968-Stephen-Stills 

Overflow Ramble 1 

I want it noted at the start here: I try to use screenshots where everyone looks as dignified as they can without losing objects or gestures I want to comment on, because otherwise it breaks flow. I could not find a screenshot where Shaw wasn’t stickin h leggy out real far, or making this extremely weird face. I tried. The movie defeated me.

Medium wide shot of Shaw sitting on a couch (loose pillows that don’t have velcro surfaces to keep them in place if the ship rolls), with Holloway in reverse shot, sitting on the other side of a coffee table (no lip to catch rolling objects), with a rose sitting in a cup between them. Shaw is about to stand up, and has just the most goddamn weird expression on her face. 

In the background is a side table (does have a lip, not tall enough to do anything), with a lamp (might be magnetized/gripped to the surface, doesn’t look it), a pile of books (falling hazard), a stick of incense burning in a cup (falling AND fire hazard), and, as previously noted during Vickers’ introduction, there’s the required Cultured White Person African Art Pieces just sort of. Leaned on a tiny little shelf in the background (how have they not fallen over already). Finally, a tropical hanging pitcher plant can be seen hanging behind the lamp, probably a Nepenthes cultivar. Did David keep these alive for two years? 

There is a bewildering buttload of Nepenthes cultivars, with an active enthusiast community in Japan. So, SO many of the cultivars are called ‘[Adjective] Koto’ (cite 2). Like, to the point where someone was clearly breaking out the dictionary to find more words for Koto. Decorous Koto. Effulgent Koto. Effulgent Koto again, there’s two of them. Elfine Koto. Emotional Koto. Felicitous Koto. Feminine Koto. Feverish Koto. Igneous Koto. Immobile Koto. And that’s as far as the Kotos go, apart from Zonal Koto. Somebody in 1984-1994 was literally going A-Z on Kotos before they suddenly stopped at I, turned around, and went back up to throw in Gerontic Koto and Ferny Koto.

⛬ 

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[mossstep]

Christmas/Winter Sagau!

As always: I am a minor sagau is self aware genshin au

Sorry for the long wait, school has been kicking my ass especially with finals soon, which sucks (especially since my art and history finals are on my birthday :()

For those that don’t celebrate Christmas: there will be a second post with more winter headcanons.

So, Christmas!

It probably wouldn’t be too snowy in volcanic areas like Natlan or the deserts and rainforests of sumeru. And of course Snezneya is likely snowy year round.

Unless they’re like me (I don’t like Christmas music) they likely have a few Christmas songs downloaded on their phone. Scaramouche would likely hate most Christmas songs, but especially Mariah carey’s “all I want for Christmas is you.” He’d lose his mind if you constantly blast it like most retail stores do.

-

If it were me I’d like to spend winter in either Monstadt, as I imagine it’d snow quite a bit there but not enough to be snowed in, Sumeru, as, like my area, they likely don’t get any snow and i think the company would be nice. Also Fontaine! They get quite a bit of snow, and I can imagine ice skating being popular there.

-

What’s Christmas without the gifts? As the creator you’d probably receive a lot as the creator, Anything from a custom windglider from amber, or maybe a bomb from Klee. A history book from Zhongli would be cool, raiden would probably gift you a kimono. Nahida would probably gift you and Scara matching Christmas pjs.

-

Christmas in inazuma would be fun. Yoimiya would have a firework show Christmas Eve, yae would probably convince Raiden to host a Christmas party. The kamisatos would have a dinner party Christmas Eve.

-

Monstadt would be more chaotic, a Christmas party hosted by the knights of favonius (which immediately goes awry) but that would be mostly it. But the company would be great! The knights would be happy to give you a place to stay for the night!

-

Liyue would likely be chill there would be a Christmas party hosted by Ningguang, wherein Xinyan would be playing music, and Zhongli would be telling stories, yaoyao and qiqi probably made everyone handmade gifts. (Qiqi’s are a bit on the simple side but everyone loves them)

-

Fontaine would be very much in the festive spirit, plays and musicals would be preformed throughout December. There’d be numerous competitions and contests. Furina and neuvillette would personally host a number of Christmas parties, most of which were Furina’s idea. There’d be games, figure skating, and all sorts of gift giving!

-

Sumeru would probably not be very festive due to the lack of a clear winter, but I think the people of sumeru would give the best gifts!

[blueisquitetired]

Astral Shards AU

TLDR: The Boys are in space and they have a Bad Time. (Lady Sneasler is there too)

(This is technically a No Man's Sky AU, but you don't need to know anything about the game to follow along just fine)

Welcome to the pitch! All art for this AU will get their own posts, so everything here will be in game screenshots. There's also a lot more to this story then just what's written here (As this is, you know, the pitch) so please leave any questions, thoughts, or ideas in my inbox. This bad boy isn't getting a fic anytime soon, so it's tumblr only for now!

(In game models of the boys. I'll post a drawing of their actual designs sometime in the future)

Post proper under ReadMore!

This is honestly half fic if I'm being honest.

Length: ~3,000 words or so. Sorry not sorry.

Disclaimer: I don’t know every single No Man’s Sky lore detail, and I’m not going to scour the wiki for every piece of information and spoil the whole game for myself, so not everything will be 100% lore accurate. And I’ll be ignoring the giant late game twist (if you know you know) because, as cool as it is, it’s very much a twist that consumes all narratives set in this universe, and I’d rather not make my story *also* about that. (Also, as with all AUs not currently written down in fic form, details are subject to change)

Anyway did you know the No Man’s Sky protagonist suffers from amnesia?

Picture this- Ingo wakes up on a frozen planet next to a crashed starship. He's a bit confused and lost- but his space suit is damaged and that kinda takes priority. Because of that, it takes him a hot minute to figure out he has no memories- but as he’s gathering the materials needed to not die he figures it out

The starship recognizes him as its owner and he feels relatively confident in his ability to fix all of this jazz, so he did exist before... but besides that he’s kinda stumped

But this place sucks- he’s constantly freezing to death, stuck either recharging his hazard protection with sodium or siting in his (still wrecked) starship until he warms up enough to go mine stuff with his handy dandy laser again.

And he’s alone

It’s very lonely

(He’s not supposed to be alone)

So the tentative plan is this: fix the starship enough for space flight, launch into space, and then fly to this solar system's space station. (which he has a gut feeling exists. “Every solar system has one” he mutters to himself. He’s not sure how he knows that)

It’s….. slow going. But it’s going

There’s a lot of mining involved, a lot of looting crashed space junk, a lot of mind numbing boredom as he goes to the same spaces over and over and-

And then he sees something weird in the distance.

(This is a monolith. In game it’s used to learn space language words and history and to get  l o r e. I’m taking advantage of it)

It’s kinda a hike over there, and it uses up a lot of his sodium reserves, but eventually he comes face to face with….. whatever this is

So he walks around it, trying to figure out what it is, before eventually finding a platform he can interact with.

Stepping up to it, he’s filled with strange sensations and knowledge, a story of an alien race that is familiar yet he hasn’t actually seen yet-

And then the world shatters in front of him

He steps back in shock as a tear in reality forms, a crack in the cosmos widening and fracturing, the sound of breaking glass as everything s h a t t e r s-

And then everything is fine

He stands there, dumbly for a moment, mind reeling….

Until he notices something that wasn’t there before

A shard of purple glass

Carefully, he picks it up, holding it up to his visor-

It whispers

It’s faint, too faint. He can’t hear it well- but it’s important. The whispers are familiar and he needs to know what they’re saying.

So he treks back to his ship, filled with a purpose he hasn’t had in his entire remembered life.

It takes a bit to wire his radio receiver to accept strange reality shards as a valid form of input, but eventually he figures it out. Connecting the last few wires and attaching the shard to it-

“Ingo, where are you? Please respond.”

That’s- that’s- that’s his brother!!!! His TWIN!!! Ingo doesn’t know much but he knows that’s his brother and he’s not supposed to be alone and what happened, why did he crash and why is his twin not here, where did he go? What happened?? He needs to find him!! He needs to find him NOW!

This lights a fire under him

Suddenly it isn’t “hey let’s fix my ship because I have nothing better to do” it’s ��I have to fix my ship so I can find my brother” he’s working in overtime

He visits the monolith once or twice too, hoping to get another hint, another clue, maybe even respond- but it has no more answers. Reality is stable, and there are no more shards of glass

It takes forever and the fixed spaceship is…… not great- but at least it flies.

It works well enough, and Ingo has enough oxygen for his life support and enough fuel for his ship to get to the space station- even if it’s on the other end of the solar system.

Ingo…. reeeeaally wishes it was better put together, but this is the best he can do for a previously totaled starship.

So, he lifts off.

And things go great at first!

His radar manages to locate the space station without much trouble, and his pulse engine should get him there fairly quickly.

He charts a course and gets going, little purple shard tucked into his suit. (He’d listened to the message on repeat hundreds of times. Over and over “Ingo, where are you? Please respond.” He’d combed through his ships logs as well, but they were almost all corrupted, left with nothing but fragments of his brother’s voice. This was his only true connection)

And then the engine dies

The engine dies and Ingo is in the middle of nowhere, ages away from any planet, stuck in the middle of empty space with no hope of getting anywhere.

No debris, no friendly ships, no nothing.

He’s going to die out here.

He's going to die out here and his brother will never know, will never see him again, will think he just forgot him-

He has a nice panic, looking at his limited supply of oxygen and mildly freaking out

(Majorly freaking out)

But at least he has his radio.

He doesn’t…. know any frequencies or anything, doesn’t know what to tune it too, but he has to try something.

So he just, turns it on and hopes for the best.

“Hello this is Ingo. I am stranded in deep space and require assistance.” No response. Tune the frequency one more decimal point “Hello this is Ingo. I am stranded in deep space and require assistance.” No response. Turn the dial-

And so on and so forth.

Eventually, his wordy message turns to just a hoarse plea of “help”, and he’s started switching the stations willy nilly, no longer one decimal at a time.

He’s going to die out here.

Hours of this, hours of desperately pleading into the vast depths of space-

The frequency changes without his input.

“….help?” He asks hesitantly, staring blankly at the radio transceiver. How did it do that? Why did it do that? Why was the display filled with random symbols instead of numbers-

“With what?”

Ingo jolts upright in his seat, adrenaline rushing through his veins and his heartbeat in his throat “I am stranded in deep space and require rescue.” He wheezes out, his throat sore and dry

“Oh yeah that’s no good. You sound awful- you must have been stuck there a while.” There’s the sounds of buttons beeping and fingers tapping before- “Ah found you. We’ll open a pocket near your location. Sit tight.”

And then reality warps and-

That’s new

It’s uh…. A bit too far from his ship though. It’s a nice, rational distance away, but his ship can’t move.

But it’s close enough he could probably jet pack over there.

Making sure his shard is close to his chest and firmly secured, he opens up his cockpit and leaps, propelling himself into the docking bay-

And oh

Artificial gravity kicks in, and he falls to the floor in a crumpled heap right by the entrance.

Impossibly, a ship flies in a mere moment later, even though there had been no ships anywhere nearby Ingo before. Several more soar in and out as he ungracefully shuffles to the station proper. Somehow.

And by the stars, is it loud.

(Please imagine this area being far more busy than it is. I took this photo on a weekday, but even on its busiest days it’s still a game that probably maxes out at lobbies of thirty or something. Since, you know, it’s an indie game)

After weeks of total isolation, the sheer hustle and bustle of hundreds of people is far too much to handle, the echoing reverb of ships landing and taking off sending spikes through his skull.

But, as uncomfortable as it is, it’s still people- and Ingo is so so glad to have company

“You okay?” A young voice asks as he clambers up to the parking space nearest to the entrance. “You took quite a tumble there.”

There's a short being on the platform, one that helps Ingo up. It's a youth, maybe female- and she almost seems to be the same species as Ingo. (Ingo has the feeling that he doesn't meet members of his own species much... or ever)

“Everything is operational.” he reassures, standing at full height and towering over the girl. He hunches down slightly, as to not seem intimidating. “I am just relieved that I am no longer trapped out there.”

The girl nods and gestures him forward, walking towards the station proper and expecting him to follow. He does

“Yeah I bet! If your ship wasn’t even working well enough to fly in….” She shakes her head. “Well enough of that. I’m iteration Akari! What’s your name?”

“Ingo.” He replies, a little more directly then he prefers. His voice is still hoarse. “What is this place?”

“The anomaly!” Akari replies, as they get closer to the crowd proper. “I guess this is your first time then?”

“Yes it is.” What in the world is this place? And where are all these people coming from??

“Then you should meet with iteration Adaman and Irida!”

Akari begins leading him past the crowds and towards a curving ramp.

“Iteration?” He asks, noticing the pattern in their titles.

“Oh yeah uhhhh… I’ll let one of them explain that.”

Akari chatters to him as they walk along, pointing out different landmarks and explaining their purpose

Eventually they reach a wide room that seems to overlook the entire station, just as bright and colorful as everything else.

“Hello!” A voice calls, and an alien decked in dark blue greets him. “You took quite the fall there! Are you alright?”

He is iteration Adaman apparently, and iteration Irida stands nearby. She waves when Ingo and Akari approach.

They are the leaders of this place- the founders of the anomaly. A place between dimensions, a safe haven for people like them- one's who are alone in the worlds they inhabit.

They ask about his lack of spaceship and Ingo tells them of his plight, eventually explaining his goal.

“I need to find my twin.” He explains, pulling out his shard of glass. “I remember little, but I know we are not meant to be separated. I fear for his safety.”

“A twin???” Irida sounds completely shocked, the plants she was monitoring forgotten as she turns to the group. “That’s not possible.”

“It could be.” Adaman counters. “In the infinite reaches of spacetime anything is possible.”

“The odds of such a thing are so astronomically low. Do you mean a brother in arms? A family chosen by bond alone?”

“No?” Ingo responds. “He looks like me.” He saw his reflection in the ice, his brother whispering in his ears. They shared a face.

“Impossible. Mathematically impossible”

“Improbable Irida. Not impossible.”

“The odds are far too low-"

“Plenty of people have siblings. And plenty of twins exist.” Ingo interrupts, irritation coloring his voice. “It is not that rare.”

“But not travelers.” Akari pipes up, finally joining the conversation. “Travelers are always alone.”

“Traveler?”

“That’s what you are.” Irida explains. “A traveler. We all are actually- everyone here. A being cursed to wander the stars, one with no home of their own. They may stop and rest, may find a place to settle down- but there is no place that is theirs, no community for them. No sky they rest under calls them its own.”

“Only one can exist at once.” Adaman adds. “Every dimension can only host a single one.”

“Hang on.” Ingo shakes his head. “That does not track. You just said that everyone here is a traveler. Which contradicts your earlier statement.”

“We are in an in-between space.” Irida explains, her tone pitying. “We founded the anomaly so travelers could find each other. So that the iterations could finally interact.”

“So we wouldn’t always be alone.”

“I…. I need to sit down.”

Adaman pulls up a chair and Ingo slumps into it, his head and helmet falling into his hands

“You can stay as long as you need.” Adaman reassures, his tone soft. “Our home is open to all, a bastion of safety.”

“I cannot.” Ingo sighs, before straightening back up. “I must find my brother.”

He holds out his shard of glass, reflections of multicolored light gleaming off it.

“This is the only clue I have”

“May I?” Adaman holds out his hand and Ingo hands it over reluctantly, watching as he holds it up to the light. His face falls as he examines it.

“Oh dear. Irida is this….?”

“Yes.” Irida's tone is grave, somber and mourning. “A shard of the glass world.”

“Your brother is almost certainly gone.”

“No!” Ingo leaps to his feet, his hands clenched in fists. “He is not! He sent me that message-“

“There are many in between spaces.” Irida interrupts. “We are in one, a stable pocket that hides us from the world, from the gaze of the Atlas.”

She frowns.

“Larger ones are far less stable. Refractions, cracks. The-"

“-world of glass.” Adaman finishes for her. “Any living being unlucky enough to fall in there will cut themselves on its fragments, their very being torn to shreds. Your brother would not survive."

“Not necessarily.” Ingo counters, his voice tight. “If I could get him out-” 

“He would be nothing like he was before, shattered beyond compare.”

“But he would be THERE!” His voice is loud and booming, his throat stinging in pain. “I refuse to let him suffer and die in there. I refuse to just…. give up on him! I will get him out!”

“It will be difficult.” Adaman hands him his glass back. “To find a way in will be tricky enough, but to find a way out….”

“How do I get in.” Ingo holds the shard to his chest. “How do I find him.”

“Well…."

Adaman frowns, drumming his fingers on his arm.

"Entering the world of glass shouldn't be much trouble. It's a vast space, and opening pockets in spacetime is our specialty."

"But finding him is the actual problem." Irida adds, her face grim.

"Yup. Which makes your encounter at the monolith even more strange." Expression contemplative, Adaman once again holds out his hand. "May I see your message again?"

Tentatively, Ingo places it back in his palm, still reluctant to part with something so precious. Adaman hardly seems to notice, casually turning it back and forth in his hands as he re-examines it- before eventually scanning it with a tool on his table. Data streams onto his screen, and he hands the shard back to Ingo before examining what he received.

The group is silent as he scrolls through the data, a tension in the air.

".... I think you could probably find more of these shards. Going off of your account of the event and the frequency of the shard itself..." He trails off, expression contemplative. "They seem to be... tuned to you somehow. Connected somehow. Maybe it's related to you two being 'twins'."

He hums.

"Maybe your predecessor was split into two. Maybe you are connected more than you know."

Ingo has... questions about that, but he keeps silent for now. Better not to interrupt him and break his train of thought.

"If you can find weak spots in your universe, places where the boundary between the world of the living and the world of glass is thin... Maybe you can find more of these."

"And then what?" Irida asks, her tone annoyed. "What good would more of those do?"

"Why, that's where you come in my dear friend!" Voice light and face playful, Adaman turns to his partner and grins. "With enough data points, I'm sure you can triangulate his location!"

"And send this man on a suicide mission?"

"I will find a way." Ingo interrupts the two before their argument to escalate, his determination swelling. "A way to travel there without losing myself. I will not go in unprepared."

"You heard the man!" Adaman claps his hands merrily and Irida groans. "He's already made up his mind! Better to help him where we can, hmm?"

Irida shakes her head.

“Fine. I’ll rig you up a scanner. A way to find unstable areas.”

"And then you can gather more of those shards!"

“But you’ll need to go all over.” Irida huffes.

“Not just yellow stars. Red, green, blue. You’d need to build an intensive warp drive, which is expensive and requires so much materials and nanites and you don’t even have a ship-”

“We surely have an extra we can spare.” Adaman interruptes, flashing Ingo an apologetic look. “And while the trials will be difficult, I’m sure your determination will see you through. Akari?”

“Yes?” Ingo startles as the girl speaks. He had forgotten she was there.

“Can you check the hangers for a ship we could gift our friend? I’m positive we have a few that have been abandoned.”

“Of course!” Grabbing Ingo’s hand, the girl leads him onward. “Let’s find you something good!”

Unfortunately, ‘something good’ was a tall ask when looking through old abandoned spaceships. Most had been left behind for good reason, old piles of junk that barely flew and would require extensive repairs. Certainly not anything close to the state of the art traveling ship Ingo would require.

“Okay this isn’t looking great,” Akari started, no doubt noticing Ingo’s discouragement. “But you could probably break one of these bad boys down for parts and then buy a better ship? Work your way up?”

“I suppose.” Ingo frowned as he brushed his hand over one of the ships, a part coming off under his hand.

“Or maybe….” The girl trailed off, and Ingo gave her an inquisitive look. “I mean it’s kind of a long shot- but I do know a ship that has all the required technology you’re looking for already.”

“Really?!” Hope bloomed in Ingo’s chest, his hands shaking in excitement.

“Yeah. But uh, don’t get your hopes up too high. She’s really picky.”

“…..she?”

‘She’ was a ship by the name of ‘Lady Sneasler’, a living breathing organism that happened to also be a spaceship. A marvel of biology that was like nothing Ingo had ever seen before, a pure wonder and the most beautiful thing Ingo had ever laid eyes on. And he told her as much.

(Living ships are a very canon thing in game and they are so cool! I'll post some art of Lady Sneasler later, but for right now, here's my personal in game living ship, Darling)

She was flattered, and was even more flattered when Ingo broke into an excited ramble as he examined her thoroughly, reverently running his hands up her flank when she gave him permission. She was a prideful one apparently, and had refused a pilot for centuries- but Ingo’s genuine wonder managed to easily win her over.

And so Ingo got himself a ship.

Thus, the two begin their cosmic journey together, traveling through the galaxy to gather all of Emmet’s messages and eventually save him.

It’s long and arduous, rife with danger and trials... but eventually they manage to force their way into the world of glass, and pull Emmet out.

And boy howdy is he messed up….. but that just means they get a healing arc lol.

But yeah, that’s the basics! Feel free to ask questions if you’re curious, (I have a lot more I haven’t shared yet) and I hope you enjoyed! There’s a very decent chance I might end up writing a fic about this in the future, but that’s so far off that you shouldn’t hold your breath.

Thank you for reading!

[bungiri]

FINALLY got around to doing a slight redesign for wren and figuring out how i wanna draw her SO HERE SHE IS !!!

posted some close ups way under the cut bc i didn't realize how small my handwriting is IM SORRY

if u don't know her yet here's my stardew valley expanded based farmer oc her name is wren <3 she's a half witch who isn't very good at magic, but is more capable than people tend to think.

EDIT: ok i still get likes on this as of the day i’m editing this post so i thought i’d mention that this is outdated asfk. if ur at all interested in seeing wren’s new intro page u can find it here although it’s not as detailed as this one is

the only person who consistently believes in her and has never doubted her is her father, alejandro, who is an experienced adventurer based in pelican town. he is well known in various guilds (specifically the castle village guild) for not only his physical strength and mastery of the sword, but his optimism and abilities as a natural born leader. since he's a member of the guild in pelican town, he'd often bring wren to town since she was a little girl all the way to the present day.

on the other side, wren's mother, dolores, is much more critical of her and has had high expectations of her since childhood. she expects wren to practice her magic by the book and strive for perfection. protective and often overbearing, dolores wants wren to remain in their small town without consideration for her daughter's desires. the two of them bond over their love of fashion and dolores often spends a lot of time making clothing and accessories for wren to wear by hand.

as much as i want to make this an infodump about her Lore, i don't wanna give away too much bc i wanna do vague art about it first !!! she has 2 very good reasons for running away to the farm and is quickly overwhelmed as she tries to adjust to her new life and make money. she isn't gonna quit though because she doesn't wanna have to do the Walk Of Shame back home and admit to anyone that she couldn't do it. thankfully some of the townspeople (marnie, marlon, pierre, gus, linus) are familiar with her and help her out in her first few weeks.

i don't have a clue what isaac's backstory will be like but the idea that he and wren are childhood enemies is drilled into my brain LMAO. they haven't set aside that childhood beef because when they reunite as adults they're still snarky and hostile towards each other. isaac thinks she's a spoiled nepo baby who has only gotten accepted into the pelican town guild + is being considered for castle village entry because her dad is so cherished in the scene and he thinks they can't outright say no to her. he also believes that she's not cut out for Adventurer Life™️ and that she should just stick to farming and failing at magic or whatever it is she does. wren can also be very reckless (she gets it from alejandro) which isaac believes can possibly put not only herself but other people in danger (Valid Point). wren is stubborn though and is sick of people doubting her. isaac has never been particularly nice to her in the first place so why should she listen to him fr !!! however things happen and they eventually smooch so ?!?!?? enemies to lovers.

idk what Else to add pls do ask questions if u want,, i'll definitely be doing more art of her soon

CLOSE UPS !!! not very detailed thoughts just some notes hopefully u can read it

[pmdttas]

Aaaand that wraps up Chapter 1! Hope you all enjoyed! Chapter 2 will be coming soon!

<< Previous

Thank you all SO MUCH for the positive feedback on TTAS! It makes me so happy that you all are enjoying the story so far. I’ve been wanting to share this story for some time, and I’m so proud that I’ve stuck with it!

I talk about more updates under the fold. If you don’t care about minor changes to the format and style of the comic, you can skip.

The most important takeaway is that the comic will be staying on an every other week schedule. More details about that below!

I mentioned at the beginning of this comic that I’d be working to figure out what exactly works for me vs what doesn’t.

This comic is a learning experience. I’ve never stuck with a comic long enough to understand what all it takes. I greatly appreciate your patience!

That being said, something was learned from Chapter 1 - being that pages take a lot longer when there are more characters to draw. (Big shock, right?)

So starting in Chapter 2, the pages will not contain my drastic shading styles. I’ve already experimented with this in the last scene and it just makes my life a whole lot easier. Coloring everyone is already a lot of work, and it would mean stretching the already lengthy posting schedule.

They will still be colored, and I might use shading for dramatic effect, but it will not be something I do for every panel in every page. I hope you all understand.

I’m also going to be changing the text. I really wanted the text in the comic to stand out, but I’m not sure if my reasoning was due to stubbornness or just wanting to do something different. I played with this in the last scene as well, and I think it looks much better. Hopefully you’ll agree.

Last thing - because of how busy I’ve become, TTAS will stay on its current posting schedule of every other week. Unfortunately, with how much longer it takes, plus many other responsibilities that have fallen into my lap, I don’t realistically see myself posting every week. I really hate to say that, cuz I know it will stretch the life of the comic a lot, but I know this is what’s best for me so I don’t burn out or have to take constant hiatuses.

It’s possible that I might post more frequently in the future if my schedule frees up or for specific chapters. We’ll see!

In the meantime, you can go check out the ask blog @ask-pmd-ttas-gang on Tumblr! I’m going to post additional art stuff there, answer questions for the characters and artist, and reblog any fanart I see!

Okay, that was a lot of updates, but I hope you all will stick around to check out Pandora’s story. Cuz let me tell you - this is just the beginning! We have a long way to go. :)

- Ash

[hellfirebride]

I really love how realistic your headcanons are, ooc saturated fandoms kill me. 😭 I was wondering if you had any thoughts on L falling in love e.g traits he’d fall in love with, moments he’d make the realization, how his behavior would change towards the person of interest over time, etc. I’m not sure if I worded this well or if you’ve already done this, if so then don’t mind meee. 😬 if you don’t wanna do this one or already did then I’d be happy just to hear literally any hc’s you have about him lol

first req first req first req

hiiiiii !

So, L falling in love. Putting this under a read-more because my stupid ass is going to ramble.

I think he would usually fall in love with people who are relatively capable. I have no idea how to describe this more. You wouldn't have to be some genius, just be able to operate independently because the man is no caregiver. Also, I think you'd have to make an impression of some sort on him, otherwise he probably wouldn't even pay enough attention to get to know you. A big trait L would like to see in someone is understanding. You're gonna have to be able to at least tolerate his attitude and more bizarre mannerisms if you intend on becoming a permanent fixture in his life. Even more than that, he would want someone who would be able to understand just what kind of person he is: how he's not exactly pure, how he would rather do things if they interest him instead of doing them out of the goodness of his heart, the things he's willing to do to get the results he wants. You don't need to agree with him on everything, he probably would like it more if you didn't. You can't change him, but it gives him more to think about when he weighs his decisions.

So! L falling in love. I did touch on this in a previous post, but I'll paste what I said here:

L will know as soon as his feelings appear. Depending on what he's doing at the time, this discovery could be anywhere between a mental footnote and an outright statement directed towards you. He's become fond of you, far beyond a passing fancy or a momentary infatuation. He'll be requesting your input on whatever he's been working on, or making sure Watari knows to bring extra sweets when you're present. If you're really lucky, he might just feed them to you.

I think it's something he would figure out super quickly and then just. Sit on until he's pretty sure you feel the same. He doesn't want to have to confess just to find that you don't share his affection. 10/10 you can just expect a "I've fallen for you" from him and have no idea how genuine it is because it wouldn't be unusual for him to say things like that to get a reaction. You would have to pay attention to how he interacts with you and matters regarding you to know just how true his statement was. (To a point, I think he'd kinda be lowkey obsessed with you. Like, he's not gonna be thinking about you all the time or think about you over the case he's currently working on, but there's definitely something there.)

Things you can expect from L when the two of you are an item:

Don't be surprised if he encourages you to pick up some kind of defensive martial arts. He knows several, so it's really not a shocker. The man's really thinking you need to learn how to beat the shit out of someone so it's one less thing he has to worry about now that he's let you in.

Luxury. Absolute Luxury. L's funds are near bottomless as far as you should be concerned. You have his heart but he's not always the most emotionally available, so you have his wallet. If you're travelling with him, he's actively making sure you get the best. Watari probably would've picked up on your tastes and knows to accommodate them if he wants the detective's best work. An extra slice of cake meant for you? Sure. A whole floor of the headquarters building just for you? Take two.

Vulnerability! Holy shit, vulnerability. It's something that's so rare for him to show. He's almost always working like, five steps ahead of everything else, why would he need to be vulnerable? I think I can count the times he's canonically showed his cards on one hand and most of them were in the episode where he fuckin' dies(showing some regret over the deaths of the FBI agents, the interaction he has with Watari in the monitoring room where the older man asks him what's wrong or w/e, the rooftop scene, the foot thing, and then him dying.) He's more willing to show the cracks in his façade to you, and that in itself is super powerful evidence about how you make him feel.

I absolutely think he would have some kind of system set up to look after you if something happened to him. They had the dead man's switch to let Roger know if L died so whatever successor would know to take over without letting the world know the original L was gone, but that seems more like something Watari would've insisted on. A place to live, expendable funds, hell there's probably options for a new identity in there somewhere if that's what you'd want.

aaaaa i've never filled a request before so i rlly hope this is satisfactory djgfhfjghf. i hope it's in character enough, at least. i always kinda stress over like. what if my interpretation of a character is total dogshit and people don't like my writing. thanks for the ask!

[moltenwrites]

Hi! I read the bit of Paintings that’s out and I’m a fan. I really like how relaxingly told it is, it’s very flow-y and easy. When my attention span is more cooperative I’m interested to see what else you’ve got up as well, but that day is evidently not today haha.

On a lark, asking your thoughts on a technical question, just me nerding out, I’m curious if you have thoughts on writing serialized versus… is it just non-serialized? Less serialized? Fiction.

I’m of the opinion that a lot of, for my experience, manga suffer a lot from the lack of ability to edit their structure and continuity, however it gets me out of my head and onto the page. Even on ao3 I don’t like going back and editing continuity mistakes as I think it’s unfair to anyone who’s read the old chapters to suddenly say “hey, that name I forgot to add in chapter one?(this happened ~w~) Yeah, you know that now!”

Instead it forced me to get creative and add an element that didn’t clash with established world building and future plans, which was fun and challenging. So like, it’s better for me psychologically? Especially in terms of motivating me by having people actually see it while I’m moving forward.

Idk, it’s an art, not a science, just newish to the site and wanted to reach out and talk writing.

Happy New Year!

Heya, firstly I wanted to say this 100% made my day thank you SO SO much.

As for the question, I’m still honestly figuring that out! I’ve never really posted publicly, so I’m not sure if my stance on serilazation of this stuff will change, but here’s what I currently think for my writing. I personally don’t plan on changing anything ( except for maybe like a grammar/spelling error I didn’t catch ) after stuff is posted! Unless I feel like I made a mistake so great that it needs to be fixed, I’ll just try to work it into the story.

As for other people, I can 100% see both arguments. Even outside of the more niche communities here, some series would KILL for the ability to be able to change some old stuff.

I personally wouldn’t mind if a series in following were to change something, as long as it’s communicated to the reader in some way. Like in the unlikely event I WOULD make a major change, I’d make a blog post and put an addendum on whatever chapter would be posted next.

On the other hand, I always commend it when people find ways to write themselves out of corners. I think the ability to work around your continuity, especially in fantasy settings, is an important skill so that there aren’t constant retcons.

I hope I answered the question well enough haha, thanks again for reading, I’ll try to put up the next part soon ™️

Oh, and happy new year :)

[monachopsis-11]

First Time In Public In A Wheelchair 🦽

Overall it was actually pretty okay, I used my new chair today at the art museum with my family and I was a little uncomfortable with it but nothing over the top. I felt awkward which seems pretty normal and I felt like people were staring but I honestly think that was more in my head than anything. That was a pro of doing this at an art museum instead of the grocery store because I was generally the least interesting thing to look at.

Some things I learned and noticed for anyone else who’s really new to using a wheelchair or considering getting one or going in public for the first time.

1. People apologize more, if someone thought they were even slightly in my way they’d say sorry and move which was weird but idk it wasn’t super upsetting

2. More people talked to me, not about the wheelchair just random small talk. I’m not sure if it was because they were uncomfortable or not but I didn’t love that

3. Pushing in the rain is not fun and if you know it’s going to rain I’d recommend bringing a washcloth to dry your push rims once you get inside so you can move around easily.

4. Pushing on carpet is harder and it hurts my shoulders, definitely not fun

5. It was so much easier than walking as long as it was flat, I could move fast and I enjoyed myself more than I have at something like that in years. I’ll have to see how I feel tomorrow but I think any symptoms that show up will be significantly better than after walking.

Also friendly reminder that just because I’m not too anxious around strangers doesn’t mean anything, using it in front of my family was anxiety inducing and when I got home I made I post on my private Instagram figuring I’d have to tell people eventually. That was a mistake, as much as I wanted to post those pictures doing so without consequences isn’t a reality and as soon as one old friend asked what happened I deleted the post and didn’t answer which I’m now stressing about.

I guess this stuff just looks different for everyone and even though I want to be able to share pictures of myself with or without aids I have to remember that their are consequences to that because other people won’t see it the way I do and I don’t particularly want to explain it to people.

Basically my main takeaways are that if you think a mobility aid would help and are able to get one you should, it can be amazing and really helpful. Also it takes time to be brave and that’s okay.

This post was more for me than anything but if anyone ever is in a similar position I hope it helped!