#schrödingers creature

[eldrorian]

Schrödinger's Creature

a flag anyone who is or identifies as a schrödinger's creature.

symbol: link

Tag List: @radiomogai , @specieschive , @seasulfur , @alterhumanflags , @kiruyeen

[cerastes]

I really love official art with Doctor in it because they are invariably, consistently a Creature in it

This one, for example, is a nice day out with a squad and a half. Amiya is there because of course they are going to bring the daughter along, plus it’s on company dime and she’s the CEO, you have Rhodes Island’s Handsomest, Elysium, making sure to ‘accidentally’ pose and take off the sunglasses all model like for the photo, you got Ceobe with the bright cord Reeboks, Specter right out of Dorohedoro with the Athletics ‘94 and a summer rich girl kinda fit to contrast, sipping on orange juice, Exusiai in the Toycore fit that she somehow manages to rock prim proper, and then,

Doctor with the cute pins, a special white, elongated summer visor under the hoodie that makes you wonder how many helmets and in how many colors do they own, brown ears to match with Amiya, of course, pondering the absolute SHIT out of that pamphlet for a 3-star deployment in the amusement park,

And the Schrödinger’s Adidas tracksuit. Where do the stripes begin? Do they just... Fade? Orange socks? No wonder W and Ines are terrified of this maniac. Who is this creature?

[shinjisdone]

So....I am thinking about Alucard (again) but his Vlad version....oh, his Vlad version. hits different, different vibe, really good. Unfortunately, just because he changes his appereance, Alucard himself is still the same we know in the show, no matter what form he takes. Him appearing as his former self wouldn't be much of a difference so...

Vlad!Alucard Who Has Amnesia And Still Thinks He Is The Leader Of Wallachia - But His Obsession With You Still Remains...

HEAVILY based on my other ramblings, the detailed one as well as small headcanons here.

TW: HEAVY MENTIONS OF RELIGION, VLAD BEING INSANE AND USING RELIGION TO COMMIT MURDER, SEEING YOU AS AN ANGEL SENT FROM THE HEAVENS FOR HIM, RACISM(? He hates the Ottomen? He's like...from the old times ya know) MYSOGINY (his boss is a woman???), OBSESSION, MURDER COMMITTED FOR YOU, WORSHIP THAT IS ALSO DEGRADING, HE IS NOT OKAY AND NEITHER WILL YOU BE

None...none of this was supposed to happen.

Seras was just in time to block the finishing blow as Integra stared at this creature...the monster Alucard.

Yet, something was wrong, terribly wrong. The form he took on was that of his old and foolish human self and his eyes were nothing of the bloodlust and glee she remembered.

It was pure anger. Pure and cold rage as he gazed about anything in the room.

The long, tattered cloak, the heavy armor he refused to get off and that sword he clung to as if it was the only thing he had. Where are his guns? Where are the glasses she gave him? Where is that smarmy grin, the snicker, the mocking humor, where was Alucard?

Seras' begs of her master reached deaf ears. He was barely listening to her, as if he wasn't even in the same realm as they were, somewhere else entirely. Spacing out but still getting angry at the young vampire's resistance.

The insistence that Integra was his master seemed to displease him as well. He spoke in a thick accent, spatting out that he only has one master and it is no woman.

This wasn't him, she feared. He returned so fast after consuming Schrödinger, but this never could be her Alucard. The one she freed from her father's shackles.

No...he was shackled to something else now.

Shackled to his curse that was you. Chained to his willfull obsession, to his fantasy, his twisted form of love. Integra should have seen it coming that this Alucard would drop his weapon instantly the moment you entered her chambers. His blood-red eyes widening as his breath was caught in throat. Seemingly he had forgotten everyone else there as she watched the man stumble towards you in awe. His hands shook as he kept himself together from touching your radiance and committing sin. Like a puppet on a stage, he fell to his knees, bowing his head to you, dark locks falling in front of his gentle face.

"...Forgive my intrudence, holy angel. Giveth to me the message of God as I offer my prayers."

Fucking hell. It truly was Alucard.

The Bird Of Hermes Is My Name...

It was laughable how quickly this thing was putty in your hands.

Integra sighed, at the end of her wits, but was relieved that this monster was able to be tamed by you. This was no other than Alucard for sure. It was sickening to see him still cling onto that part of himself when it came to you.

As confused as you and Seras may be, she ordered for you to look after him for now. Do not act surprised. Did you think she wouldn't ask that of you?

Both she and you know how Alucard is. And it pains you, terrifies you - because even as he cannot seem to remember himself as the Nosferatu he is - the Dracula Hellsing took prisoner, the one true vampire walking this earth as an immortal being - he is and always will be your monster.

Now he calls himself Vlad the Impaler. The ruler of Wallachia but you do not have the heart nor patience to explain this time and place to him. That his kingdom is no more.

He speaks differently. Voice the same but heavy with a thick accent and speaking in the most polite but proud way you've seen.

You tell him that this place harbors no enemies. There are no Ottomen, no traitors of Wallachia. He believes without a second thought and kneels once again before you. "I thank thee for the sanctuary, o angel." You can cringe as much as you like but he will not stop.

Additionally, Alucard seemed to have forgotten his powers and immortality or perhaps, has not yet regained them. He thinks himself as human and expects an accomodation for one. You offer him a room and though the modernity and the fact he feels no hunger are a novelty to him, he spares these things no thought.

Again, he bows and thanks you once again. "For what reason haseth God brought me here? What message will thy bring me?"

What a load of bullshit. This could not be the Alucard you know (and fear). He may look like him, sound like him but he would never utter such words. With a frown, you step forward and he immediately straightened his pose. As you observe his form, he stares back in awe at the mere short distance of the two of you. A mere servant in the presence of such goodness, such holiness. "Is it really you?" You mutter and gingerly reach for his face. A shudder runs through him as you cup his face and a sigh escaped him. "The touch of an angel..." For a moment, he closed his eyes to memorize and bask in the feeling before gawking back down to you. "I art Count Vlad, thy humble servant. I shall bring death to all thy enemies and have them be a sacrifice."

Your frown deepened and you retracted your hands. "I am no angel. I am...a human. That is all." Alucard's eyes widened and he immediately but gently shook his head. It was like he was hearing blasphemy. "Thou must be. How else could there be such radiance and grace?" He put a hand to his chest, "How else could my heart feel twisted and touched by thy presence? How else could I be so full of veneration at the sight of thy beauty and holiness? Why else..."

Alucard seemed to struggle for words as his breath got caught and his eyes narrowed. You could feel your heart pounding as well but out of fear.

"...does my very existence stop at what I ought to do and be at the sight of thee? Why else had God sent thee to me? Let me be thy vassal, the one who shall shed blood and keep thy hand clean and pure. Let me know, o angel."

Eating My Own Wings...

He was more terrifying than you thought possible.

You almost wished for the old Alucard to be back. This one is a senile, insane warlord who believes each little lie he tells himself. The lies of his kingdom, his faith, that you are an angel sent to him.

It was revoulting.

In the past he wouldn't keep his eyes off of you and never wiped that stupid grin off his face. But now, he bows his head, not daring to stare at you directly or for too long as if he was worthy of your beautiful sight. He showers you in compliments and even prayers. To him, you are a prayer, a benelovence that blesses him. Each word that leaves your mouth and each touch he so eagerly awaits even as he pretends to be humble, are a blessing. To even be in the same realm as you, as you obviously landed from above to see him, is nothing short of a blessing that must be met with gratitude.

Even as he speaks of gratitude and unworthiness, you can clearly and quickly notice that he seeks you out contanstly. The heavy stomps of his armor are hard to ignore. He stalks you without any intention to hide and his face remains blank but soft. The unruly nature of this form of his makes him look so...wild and unkempt with his disheveled hair and the messy mustache...but this form seemed the most non-hostile.

Although he stalks you, he barely lets out a word - aside from begging for your message from God, thanking you again and again for blessing him and imploring for an order, any order to do good in your name. For you. For you to notice him and validate his actions as a warlord.

He must be doing good. The bloodshed and the battles are his prayers and they must reach you, so please, please, tell him he is doing everything right by striking down his enemies.

No matter how many times you tell him you are no benelovent creature, he refuses to believe you. You must hide your identity for men are greedy and will cut off your wings. No one else can see you for what you really are aside from him, of course. It's a way to stroke his ego. Only he can understand and see you for he is God's most humble, most powerful, most blessed servant. He will be rewarded for all he has done and endured, so of course only he knows you are an angel! Everyone else is a blind fool.

As much as he sings your praises, Alucard is too much in awe to touch you. You are a holy being and he cannot ever have the audacity to simply touch you. But, as hypocritical as it is, he reveres in the willing touches he receives from you. Each a prayer, each a blessing. An angel caressing him and showing him...love. True love he has never known. He was always a monster on the battlefield and the common men were traitors and wrongdoers. Only a holy being could hold the essence of true and unconditional love - only you. Only you can love him.

Alucard has lost the wit, the mockery, the giddiness of battle. The only emotions you can make out on his face are reverance and a gentleness that you dared describe as obsession.

No matter what he could ever go through...he was still your sick monster.

The same monster that hesitates to touch you. The monster that won't leave you alone. The same monster that watches you sleep with bated breath, mesmerized by your peaceful figure and the undying wish to craddle you, to share the same peace you feel just once in his life. But he cannot. The only thing left for him is to adore you from afar with a lovesick expression.

...To Keep Me Tame.

The enemy draws closer and so he draws out his sword. He needs no army to protect you and devote the next sacrifice for you. Before every battle, he kneels and lets out an incantation. Promising you glory and the enemy's head all in your name.

"I shan't have any filth taint thy radiance, o angel. The enemy shall lose their pitiful life for daring to approach thee."

His vow is commandable but the way he eagerly turns around and swings his blade with such rage at the danger to absolutely maul them before they can scream out their regrets and begs for mercy. You can't tell if he simply is enraged at the sight of any enemy of the Count Vlad, for wanting to hurt and mock you, or if there is still this bloodlust hidden deep in his dead heart. You do not know. He doesn't squeal in glee when he strikes them down, does not talk down to them. Alucard is as silent as ever as Vlad but the ferocity is still the same.

He returns, reeking and spilled with blood, as he offers you their head. Fearing he will take it the wrong way if you reject it - after all, all he does is for his faith - you try to gently tell him that it's enough, that he doesn't need to fight any more. It works, for he believes his angel.

Still, the look of anticipation in his eyes make you sick. Perhaps one day, you cannot take it anymore. He does his job as Hellsing's hound well unwittingly but the way he seeks you out and looks at you is more than enough. You tell him you are no angel, may be kind to him, may show him humanity, love, but you are not a holy being. That he shouldn't see you as something you are not!

So...stop with the devotion. The sacrifice. This obsession that isn't love.

A monster cannot love. He should know. He is the one who told you!

"...Then what...am I here for?" He told you one day, defeated and disheartened. The desperation on his face was almost shocking.

"...Why am I here in this world if not to serve thee? Why did any of this happen? Why would I march and fight again and again through this wasteland of my own kingdom if...if I cannot have thee?"

You step back. Alucard genuinely sounded heartbroken.

"Each of these non-believing monsters hunting me...I have to kill them, do I not? None of them have the same strength that I have, the will to pray and serve God the way I have! I have swallowed my own armies, my own land just to keep moving on. I kept moving on into this strange, confusing place...all to reach thee, no? That is why I kept on killing, to meet thee, did I not? Is it not what I am here for?"

Alucard stomps towards you, not bowing his head once. He holds onto your arms first with his metal glove, before placing one gently against your face. His eyes are wide and red.

"No one else marched on as I. No one else could ever imagine thy form. Only I can, only I am worthy enough to see thee, to meet and reach thee. To serve thee. My angel."

[cappycapital]

I know I haven’t portal posted in a while but I think people don’t quite utilise the interesting imagery that Dougs relationship with Chell would be

the man sicked her onto the facility like an attack dog, a reaper sent down to destroy the facility. TWICE, the last time sacrificing his own life to do so, placing himself into the pod and turning into the Schrödinger’s cat experiment.

it’s genuinely so cool, chell some kind of monster, the indomitable human spirit, you could give her so much angelic or monstrous imagery depending on which perspective you look at.

from the perspective of aperture? She fucking sucks, a creature who destroyed what little they had left. from the perspective of the people who want freedom she’s a sort of saviour, but the thing about that perspective is

she also sucked at THAT

she left Aperture science with herself ALIVE but not saving the thousands of other humans in cryo that we see in co-op, she’s utterly out for herself like some kind of force of nature.

I dunno I just woke up, I guess I just wonder if Doug would have been happy with the outcome that they got, I feel like he wouldn’t.

[linc-karo-27]

🕯️Reblogging this again for the Prayer Circle of more Graha in the Fanfest trailer 🕯️

Like I can't remember if they show the trailer in Japanese like the Live Letters as it is in Tokyo so mass watching every English Dub person sprint to yt to hear it will be an experience.

I made a cursed image in response to yesterday's 6.5 trailer. Its bad but I love it

Feel free to use it

[museofthepyre]

Listening through all of CHNT for the one millionth time with the *specific goal* of looking for any Schrödinger’s cat references. File 4. That did not take long.

MY THEORY IS BUILDING IN EVIDENCE. BECAUSE THIS IS SUCH A MASSIVE PARALELL TO… WELL… yk. (This line references the Gravediggeress and her attempt to revive *everything* within her land) (the revived things seemingly cannot leave the death fields. The fields are the metaphorical box wherein the creatures are both alive and dead, because true necromancy is impossible, and you can only suspend something between thresholds. AM I INSANE DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE WHAT IM SEEING) (WE HAVE ANOTHER CASE ESTABLISHING THAT YES, “NECROMANCY” IS IMPOSSIBLE AND RATHER MANIFESTS AS A QUANTUM SUPERPOSITION BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH— CONTAINED WITHIN A PHYSICAL POCKET OF SORTS? *DIRECTLY* REFERRED TO AS SCHRÖDINGER’S WASTES?????) (AM I LOSING MY MIND?)

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Lambert groaned and had to make a conscious effort not to vomit. His stomach was roiling, his head was pounding and his mouth felt like he’d cleaned out every fireplace in Kaer Morhen with his tongue. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in a pillow, happy to note he was at least in a bed this time (you pass out drunk in a pigpen once and your brothers never let you forget it). A grumble from his right made him realise a little belatedly that he wasn’t alone in said bed. Cracking an eye open Lambert was greeted by a tanned back and a familiar head of dark, tangled curls. Aiden.

This revelation was quickly followed by two more: The room reeked of sex and they both appeared to be naked. Lambert sniffed almost desperately, hoping for a third, maybe even a fourth scent (it wouldn’t be the first time one of them had taken a bed mate or two whilst the other watched. Some of the residents of these little, backwater towns could be surprisingly kinky). He found none. Which could only mean that he and Aiden had…shit!

Before Lambert could spiral any further the Cat with his ever perfect timing chose that moment to wake up with a hissed “Motherfucker.” Mirroring Lambert’s earlier action and squirming around until his face was mostly smooshed into his pillow before cracking an eye open, “I’m never drinking any of Schrödinger’s moonshine again. Ever.”

Parts of the night before started to flash in Lambert’s memory. Right, they’d just come back from a particularly difficult (and profitable) hunt, both slightly giddy off their success. Aiden had produced a bottle of…something, from his pack- said he’d nicked from his brother and had been saving it - suggesting they celebrate with something stronger than whatever they were serving downstairs…then nothing.

“Hey.” Aiden’s voice interrupted his thoughts, the Cat’s nose twitching in a way Lambert definitely did not find endearing as he too took in the lingering scents, “Did we-ah-nevermind. Just answered my own question.” He said, wincing as he moved to sit up. “Sooooooo.” He turned to look down at Lambert, “Guess we should probably talk about…” He gestured between the two of them, “Right?”

“Er, right?” Fuck, Lambert didn’t mean for that to come out sounding like a question.

“Right.” Aiden parroted. He rose unsteadily and threw on his trousers, foregoing his shirt and boots, “But first, I’ll be right back. I gotta piss and my mouth tastes like multiple woodland creatures crawled in there and died.”

He made for the door, muttering under his breath about it being too early for this shit whilst Lambert felt a sense of guilty pride at the limp the other Witcher was sporting.

Lambert waited until the door clicked shut before finally letting his panic engulf him. No way could he carry on travelling with Aiden now. He knew Aiden didn’t return his feelings (feelings which he thought he’d hidden pretty well until now). As far as the Cat was concerned, no matter how gently he’d try to break it to him, this would be a one-time thing at best and a drunken mistake at worst and Lambert didn’t want to face the gods awful conversation to find out which. He could handle being a one night passing fancy to some nameless townsperson who would most likely either be a grandparent or dead by the time he passed through again but the thought of that with Aiden made his heart clench. No. Best for the both of them if he left quickly and quietly now. Aiden was stupidly handsome, friendly, smart, kind….he’d find other companions on the road easily enough and soon Lambert would be forgotten.

“What the actual fuck!?”

Lambert winced. Of fucking course Aiden would emerge from the inn’s washroom just as Lambert was slipping out of their room fully dressed with his pack and swords, making it pretty obvious what he was attempting. Why did the God’s have it in for him today?

He didn’t even fight it when Aiden pulled him back into the room by his collar (he was pretty sure the other man would have scruffed him like the pup Aiden often called him if his swords weren’t in the way). He dropped his belongings wordlessly and sat on the edge of the bed when Aiden gestured, the Cat’s face a painful mix of pissed off and hurt.

“Never thought you’d be one to fuck and flee. Even the whores you hire get a cursory goodbye.”

Lambert averted his gaze to the floor.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

Lambert winced at the inside joke turned weapon,

“Don’t give me the fucking silent treatment Wolf. We said we were going to talk so come on. Talk to me.”

“No.” Lambert said, not caring how petulant he sounded, “You said we were going to talk. I was trying to do us both a favour.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t know how this talk was going to go?” He raised his voice in a mockery of Aiden’s, “This was just a one-time thing, you know I don’t feel that way about you but we can still be friends.” He stood up and gathered up his belongings again, “Spare me the fucking bullshit.”

“Alright. First of all, I do not sound like that. Secondly, is that really what you think?”

Lambert stayed silent.

“Lam?” Aiden suddenly sounded unsure, “What did you mean by ‘I don’t feel that way about you’. Feel what way?”

Lambert shook his head like he was trying to dislodge a fly, “It doesn’t matter.” He went to move around Aiden but was stopped by a hand on his chest. He could very easily knock him out of the way but he didn’t want possibly his last physical contact with Aiden to be violent if it could be avoided.

“The fuck it doesn’t.” Aiden snapped, “Lam, I need you to talk to me. Please, Pup.”

Lambert met Aiden’s eye, trying to keep his expression blank as he bit out, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t regret it.”

Aiden’s pleading look faltered slightly, “I’d be lying if I did that. I don’t-”

“Then like said. It doesn’t fucking matter.” Lambert growled feeling humiliation and anger curl in his gut as he placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder, fully intent on pushing him away now. Until an insistent mouth was pressed to his own. Lambert dropped his pack to the floor to wrap his arms around Aiden and was vaguely aware of being walked backwards as he kissed back. He really should take his leave before he got hurt any more than he already had but he found he couldn’t refuse as Aiden dove back in for another kiss. Then another. Then another. Eventually though the Cat pulled away.

“Let me finish.” He said huskily, brushing his nose against Lambert’s, “I don’t regret that it happened, so don’t you dare think that for a second longer. I regret that I - we - don’t remember it.” He slid Lambert’s swords off his back and both men let them fall with a clatter, “If I could do things differently, the only thing I’d change is that we’d both be stone cold sober, and it wouldn’t be a fuck between friends. It could never be just that with you, Love.”

Lambert felt his breath catch at the new endearment, “You mean it?”

Aiden chuckled, “Does it smell like I’m lying?”

The scent of affection and arousal filled Lambert’s nose as he shook his head no.

“Does it feel like I’m lying?” He guided Lambert’s hand to where he was half hard in his trousers.

“You want me.” Lambert stated, awe tinging his voice, his hand rubbing and stroking of its own accord.

Aiden nodded frantically as Lambert bought him to full hardness, “You. You have no fucking idea. Always you. For as long as you want.”

Both men groaned as their mouths crashed together again, Lambert dragging them to fall back onto the bed, pinning Aiden underneath him, “From now on.” he said between sucking bites to Aiden’s bare chest, “I’ll supply the booze. At least we both know what the fuck’s in it then.”

Aiden gave a breathy laugh which turned into a moan as Lambert nipped at his collar bone, “Deal.”

[pet-cemetery-emotes]

did your blogsona get a vivisection also what is the blogsona's pronouns also i love the blogsona. cherish even. silly Cat Thing

Awh, thank you!! Yes, it did :) It's alive and dead. It doesn't have a heartbeat until its heart is actively observed lol. It uses any pronouns in teh world!!! Or no pronouns :) I tend to favor it/its but you can't misgender it in a way that matters. It's agender, so it's as much of any gender as it is not any gender.

It doesn't have a name, either. Some of the things it gets called are Ghost, Schrödinger, Church/Churchill, but you can make up new names for it, or just call it the Pet Cemetery cat/creature.

I'm glad you like it :)

[forestdeath1]

nah they don't forget about bisexuality, they just say things like 'bi people exist but Remus isn't one of them' 🫠

Do we EXIST?! Are they SURE?!!!

Has anyone seen a bisexual in their natural habitat?

What curious creatures these bisexuals are... Schrödinger's bisexuals.

[sheppi-isometrics]

🧩 Gargoyle family tokens on Patreon

Create your own schrödinger enemies with this pack! It contains modular parts to create your original enemies or heroes, or statues that aren't enemies at all (until they are).

🌟 Get access to more than 200 creatures, maps and assets by supporting us on Patreon! Complement your campaigns with hi-res monster tokens and start building the adventure of your dreams with our isometric and 2D assets 🏰!

[lonely-vault-boy]

What dogs would the Harbingers have?

Part 1 of 2

Ok well in the Genshin universe Childe technically has this lil fella follow him around in Inazuma-

And I had that whole thing with him and a rift hound back in ye olden days before they actually came out.

But I’m just gonna use normal dogs bc I can

Pierro- Caribert (St Bernard)

Yeah that’s it’s name. It’s not referencing anything at all, and it definitely doesn’t serve as a reminder for all that was taken from his people

Low key I think it’s bc they’re big and skilled rescue dogs (since Khaenri’ah needed to be rescued- I mean what)

Capitano- Soldier (German Shepard)

He had never named something before. He called it soldier as if it was a standard recruit, but eventually that just became the name

A bit cliche, but I think it suits him. They’re loyal and intelligent. They’re also very capable dogs who don’t need constant attention

Dottore- Pie (bulldog mix thing)

Was named P13 bc that was it’s testing number (he created it himself as a cloning test). Childe started calling it Pie and it just kinda stuck

Bulldogs/Pugs/etc are notoriously inbred and I feel like that’s the closest thing

Columbina- ✨ Pom-Pom ✨ (Pomeranian)

She says she named it after a cute bunny she saw once, but that’s probably just more of her riddles

She carries him around in her arms and he sleeps on her chest

Arlecchino- Fang (pitbull)

It sounded intimidating to potential traitors

I think pitbulls get a lotta shit that’s undeserved. That being said, I feel like she’d want a dog more prone to aggression. Sometimes the two of them go on traitor-hunting missions together

Pulcinella- Muffin (mini schnauzer)

Childe let it slip to his siblings that there was a dog named Pie. When Pulcinella got a dog of his own, he agreed to let Childe’s siblings name it. They picked Muffin to fit the theme

Idk they’re underrated and I adore them. They’re also really sweet and can be pretty playful

Sandrone- Schrödinger (chihuahua)

She named it after a fellow woman of science

It looks cute it a weird way, but it’s also the most viscous and bloodthirsty creature you’ve ever met

[bright-and-burning]

bonjour i have been tagged by @goingxmissing and @freeuselandonorris thank u <3

Last song I listened to: girls make me wanna die by the aces.. drawing inspo for girlband au.... the Visions... lando singing this on stage like oooooo. ('i tried to tell her once on a drunken night, but it came out all fucked like a bad pickup line')

Favourite colour: pink my beloved <3 my apartment is very green and yellow w pink accents but i own soooo many pink accessories/little tops/shorts/etc it's actually an unnecessary amount.

Currently watching: i am horrendous at watching tv on my own it's the executive dysfunction. i've only ever successfully finished tv shows w ppl ive dated (rip to stranger things which will never get finished bc we broke up first) or my dad. the 'finished shows w friends' stat would be higher if we hadn't picked a fucking massive show to try and watch (the mentalist) like. you try balancing sports and school and jobs and five people's schedules around those things and finish a 7 season show in 2 school years.

Sweet/savory/spicy: i mean all of the above... i have been craving sweet lately tho. found chocolate chips in my hair this morning bc i had cheerios + choc chips in bed while laying down

Current obsession: waves hands at blog. but also uhhh. hm. just spent like a month listening to exclusively beyonce's cowboy carter. and then a week and a half only listening to glass animals' creature in heaven. saw hadestown last week and spent several days just listening to the soundtrack!! uhh girlband au is wiggling into my brain. honestly lowkey this spinach and sun dried tomatoes pasta salad thing ive been eating has been Hitting

Last thing I googled: "schroedingers cat" to make sure i was spelling it right (i wasn't. it's schrödinger. handing in my nerd card now)

no pressure tagging the wonderful @leclercenjoyer @wewentcarracing @ocontraire if they wld like to

[jams-sims]

I want to hold off making any huge analyzes post about the eggs. Besides my initial reaction being "WHERE ARE MY FUCKING KIDS QUACKITY!" but also the next few days are going to highlight how streamer interact with the world of qsmp now that their moviattion for logging on is gone.

See a lot of people were over the egg arc, some Cubito weren't even interest or became stressed just thinking about taking care of the eggs. Well now they're gone so now what? Because what everyone was working out in their minds consciously or not was that the admins. The eggs, would still be around in some form. Whether it be admins running about or the eggs having hatched. They expected a goodbye not a disappearance a final conclusion to the egg arc. But there nothing. it like- take away there beds, and there builds it like they were never there in the first place. If you noticed even when people would flash the ui to see who was online 0 admins showed expect for cucurucho of course.

The thing is- if scaring them was what the FEDs or what ever entity wanted. They would have given them back by now. Some cubitos aren't made for waiting so the grieving process has started and they will move on. I think they want them to, they want to forceable push them to move on without their kids.

Believing that they hatched is the only saving grace because like Fit said. It kinda a Schrödinger cat situation. They are both dead and alive. Hatching means the kids get to come back. (But their no indication of that happening.)

If anything this feels like a way for them to measure what the cubitos would do. Given freedom on the island, no kids to worry about you get to build stress-free. That means in some way they are expecting people to move on. Forever already spiraled, Bad became nonverbal, new CC who have no connection to the eggs are trying to comfort them as best they can but they have no investment in these creatures they just met. (expect for a few looking at Niki and Tubbo.) Fit is holding out hope as best he can see how he just had his happiness ripped away.

Other CC are missing gone for various reason. Which makes me think this will last for a while so it can really sink in that the eggs are gone or that at least people like Philza get to experience the angst. It just a lot of waiting because a lot could happen.

[waytooobsessedwithmcyt]

Love Schrödinger's cat cause I get an excuse to say that anything I am not actively seeing might not be true. Millions of scientific papers have proved it? Well if I'm not looking at it it is both true and not true. I misunderstand the concept but goddamn if it doesn't give me a superiority complex, I am god, however, you, the person reading this, may be the only sentient creature and therefore only that which you see is true. You are god, congratulations motherfucker

[retro0609]

Story: Ryujo Senki

Character: Viktor Degurechaff Schrödinger version

Equipment

Computation orb

Powers:

Magic Formula’s

Basic magic enhancements

Magic constructs

Magic arrow

Uncertainty: he can be killed but can’t at the same time he can also teleport he gains cat ears as a side effect

Once an abused martial artist died to a semi truck was given a second chance at life in a war torn world with magic, guns and mythical creatures. He is the Protective dragon of Berun, The Ryujo Senki!!!

The son of Tanya and Visha

Story link:

[khaosophist]

I blink.

Where am I right now? Maybe when I am would answer the question of who I am.

Cyber psycho tomorrow, Chaos Abomination yesterday, Or, whatever it is I am today. Which is me. Which isn't saying much. Without a mirror I'm all about being what I feel I am.

I still regret losing my first journal. I realize I remember more of what I drew in there than what I wrote in there. I associate more of who I am with what I wrote when I can. I've not given thought a lot about what I draw when no one is looking. I remember drawing a creature that vivisected it's own heart. A girl sitting on a throne with her hair hiding her face. How can I differentiate between what I drew out of desire or fear if the emotion is forgotten? Do I just rewrite?

Right, Uuuuh, I'm Agender. Should write that down. I have rationalizations for it. But in the end it's just what I'm comfortable with. I don't want to be anything. I just want to be. Standing on the shoulders of giants or some such. I'd rather be a spectrum than a particle. If reincarnation exists, getting a new body won't be as traumatic. Oh? I'm a horror beyond comprehension for this species? Meh. What is bodyhood anyways?

That made me think of a post about androgyny being expected. It's clearly a presumption that was present in me, weakly. Where if someone is non-binary, or whatever, I truly don't know, then they have to have some androgyny. Else it's like a Schrödinger's Gender, where the observer demands one collapses to an identity.

Anyways, now i'm thinking about the emotions that I would gender, right? But in the end, that emotion is pure experience, gender has no play in it as an emotion. Nurture kind of shit. However I was raised in a gendered language. So much of my vocabulary about Identity free of whatever it was that people expected of me because of my body came from English. I remember during my first philosophy course I argued that true men wouldn't mind doing girly things since, y'know, they are manly, no matter what, and if doing girly things removes from one's masculinity, then what stops you from doing that? Fear? Unmanly. Disinterest? Unmanly. just be, dude.

I'm neither a man, nor a woman, i'm a being in a man's body. What I do with it says more about me than what it is. Whether I'm a cyborg, Abomination, or human. It applies. What I do with what I am says more about me than what I am.

Speaking of which, now I'm remembering when I used to draw over a comic book I owned. I was really young. But I was basically drawing what I had seen from my brother's hentai collection. Nothing fancy. Point is, I have no idea why I drew it. Maybe I thought it was funny? Whenever I think about drawing nudity I want it to mean something, because so much of bodies around me are sexualised to hell and back that it took me years to discover affection, rather than um, doing something while expecting something from it. Love is way less transactional now and I find myself wanting to love because I feel love, and not because that,if I love, then something good should happen. It's crazy how my anger was settled in a way that it just expresses itself whenever it's felt. But for love, it's like I have to rip it from myself, especially when I feel like shit and need it the most. I think part of it comes from being taught that anything I do is FOR something. Breathe to live. Cooperate to surpass, X to Y. My step brother is like that, where he sees no true altruism because of that aspect of being nice FOR something, rather than just...being nice because one is nice.

Emptiness of intention.

Moving on. So, I'm trying to see what it was that I thought when I made my first artwork with nudity in it. I feel Shame for it, even if I believe it was a great piece. It's under tons of paint now. Like an archeological painting behind the grime of nonsensical paints. It was just to keep a piece of my wife's beauty at that time, but also Because she always felt ugly because of her curvy body, I wanted to show her that she was beautiful, because most subjects of nude are in some way considered beautiful.

Whenever I would try to draw something pornographic, it would feel weird. "Can't I just use my imagination? Why am I drawing this?" I've never drawn anything pornographic. In a sense, I found it beneath me, but still respected those who would do it. I'm not very good at drawing. So it was a kind of "Well of course I don't, because I can't.". Now I haven't looked at porn for a month.

Oh! I have written smut though. It was a kind of catalyst for what I would feel sometimes. It felt healthier than just going to look at porn. I actually had to put thought to it, yeah? Oh god, the suggested image after that sentence was this:

Too tongue In cheek. Consensual tentacle smut, with no mind control or date rape drugs or whatever. Like...is romance too much to ask for? IMAGINATION. So much fucking hentai about sexual assault. Like WHY? Wouldn't it be more to one's benefit that they woo the dark elven queen instead? Being there for her, growing. Be a partner, y'know? But no, gotta be an ugly bastard and just...Ugh. I went through each character I remember of those hentai videos or comics, and made up my own stories. Massacred every fucking fuck I could and dedicated my life to have those videos not happen.

If one has power over their imagination why non-consensual pain? Maybe I'm just torturing myself. Maybe it is a categorical mistake in that it has no bearing because they are fictional characters. But what if we are of the same stuff to the eyes of divinity? Then, well, maybe it would be nice that gods don't go around changing reality itself to get me raped because 'Oh, he's a mortal, mortals aren't really real...just our creatures'. Creatures in the sense of something created. Fictional characters are our creatures. How does one treat their creatures? If torturing animals is indicative of pathos...then what is the torture of our own creations? Why not the salvation of our creatures? Freedom? The worst is how some tragedies are beautiful. But there's a difference between tragedy, horror, and indulgence. Would I want my life to be created for the sake of others that are beyond anything I could think of, unless my writer lets that knowledge in me?

But, that assumes that one does not abstract from the existence of something's being so. I believe that if it is or not is irrelevant, but what is believed of it whether it exists or not, is closer to truth.

I Have to write this too. it's something shameful for me. I suppose I had/have a fetish or something for large breasts, stereotypical as all hell. So I was attracted sexually to large breasts right? But the kind of love my wife deserves isn't that kind of bullshit right? What if she had a mastectomy, or needed breast reduction surgery, y'know? For me, of course I'd stay, but I had no idea how it would make me FEEL. Well, I got lucky or some shit, stupidest fucking thing, but i'm thankful for it, so, y'know, I talked about Izutsumi before, a freakin treasure. In the anime, she's flat as a freakin board, I don't know, it made something click. She was beautiful without any need for breasts because of her mannerisms and personality, it was also how she didn't sexualise her own body, albeit it did seem self depreciating from her. 'Who would want to look at me?' anywho, I know how I'd feel if she had a mastectomy, or a reduction. Love. Nothing lost, and the anxiety alleviated itself. I appreciate my wife so much. She deserves to be loved, and I hope the anxiety will soon be a distant memory. But the shame of what I doubted for so long is still there. Maybe I'll feel better if she talks to me about this entry. But...whatever

I've been writing for two hours, And I still think I haven't written about what I wanted to write. But, I wrote.

Pictured:

Seasonal eternal bouquets I made for my wife.

Butterfly that landed on my staff when I was having a crisis of faith. It stayed there even when I moved.

Finally, an old photo of me, my dragon hand in plain view. I lost both my robe, and my hat...but such is chaos. I can't stay myself forever. Or can I?

P.S: Midna was my first video game crush.

OG Shortstack! My princess.

I wonder if I can be my own friend...

Hee hee!