#so that i can have them ready to post lmao

[altacctforastarion]

Hi I was wondering if I could request just some soft hcs of astarion and tav like waking tav up with burnt breakfast or tav surprising astarion with some fresh blood they got from god knows where. Basically just some sfw of them post elderbrain

Hey! Thanks for requesting, this one was so fun!

Warnings: spoilers, he sucks at cooking and watches you sleep lmao. Sfw, 18+ and mdni still because my page, works, and myself are for adults only.

Tag list: @astari0nsju1ceb0x @obsessionprofessional @lotus-ignis

- I think it starts before the elderbrain tbh. Like you wake up and he’s just laying there watching you, a dagger in his hand like he’s been waiting so he can protect you, but he just greets with a smile and a soft, “good morning, love. How did you sleep?”

- maybe he gets your breakfast on a plate before you’re even out of the tent. Maybe he sets out clothes for you, helps you put on any armor you may have. He keeps your weapons sharp for you.

- But then the world doesn’t end, and the two of you live together and you wake up to the smell of food burning, sitting up quickly and rushing to the kitchen, only to see it in disarray and a huffy Astarion standing right in the middle, angrily whispering at the charred food in front of him, blaming it for his failures.

- “Well, you would have had a nice breakfast, but it decided to burn.” He says, hissing out the word “it” and you’re sure the misshapen, burnt pancakes are quaking from his rage, “So maybe you cook something?”

- he keeps trying to cook. Eventually you convince him to just get ingredients ready and set out for you and you cook instead. Sometimes he gets in a mood and demands to help, and you have to give him constant instructions, watching his every move and even then it still goes wrong. Two hundred years of never having to touch normal food, only eating it to pretend to be alive and not a vampire, have left him with barely any recollection of how to cook.

- Other times, you wake up and he’s watching you again, sometimes playing with your hair, sometimes close enough that when you wake all you can see are his eyes and you nearly fly out of your skin.

- Sometimes you wake up and he’s no where to be seen, you don’t hear him in the kitchen, and you’ll eventually find him doing some chore you hate or have been putting off.

- I put this in multiple other works of mine, but honestly I take him saying “don’t be so nice to me, it makes me want to be nice back.” As a real thing that he means, in an acts of service kind of way. I think even when he gets comfortable sharing his feelings and caring for you and acknowledging that he’s changed, it’s easier to do a nice thing for you without saying anything. You’re a great partner, his favorite person, and no matter what you say or what you do, he will feel like he needs to do something to show his appreciation. I think early on it’s so he doesn’t feel like he owes you something, terrified of letting you be kind and being in your debt, but later it’s just a way he shows he cares. So depending on how the day before goes, he might feel this urge to do something for you in the morning, beyond just wanting to.

- that being said, I think if he’s doing a “dirty” chore, it’s because you did something that meant a lot to him. One night he talks about how the things that happened are effecting him now, long after it’s all said and done, and you’re so kind and understanding and gentle. So the next morning you wake up and he’s washed all of the dishes, the house is spotless, and he’s urging you to go fill a basin with water so he can wash all of your (specifically your) clothes.

- if you have a favorite mug it’s always clean and he never says a word about it.

- he mends your clothes. Sometimes you wake up and there he is, stitching up your clothes and sometimes embroidering them. It’s always a surprise, you don’t always see him work but if he’s embroidering he won’t let you look at it, it’s to find on your own.

- I think he does a lot during the night, he doesn’t really need sleep and if the two of you don’t go to sleep in each others arms he wanders.

- If you don’t like to talk to others he will do it for you, and if someone is even kind of rude to you he will flip out on them

—

- You surprise him with blood occasionally. Sometimes yours if you don’t have time to let him feed from you, sometimes someone else’s. You are a person who saved the world, who fought for their life constantly, after all, and those skills don’t go away because there’s less danger. Some days you find a criminal and think “ooh, a snack for Astarion”, and then kill the guy and fill up whatever you can to take to him.

- You start keeping vials and jars on your person for such occasions, just in case you find a not so willing donor that will feed your partner.

- It surprises him the first few times, waking up to you speaking softly, saying good morning and saying you got him breakfast. He looks at you, confused, about to remind you that he doesn’t eat food when he sees/smells a jar of blood in your hand. “…Darling? Whose blood is that?”

- He sips on his blood while you explain that you saw a man trying to steal purses and lured him into an alley to kill him before buying some jars and draining him. There’s more blood downstairs if he’s still hungry. It makes him very happy, but he does look at you strange for a moment because wtf do you do when he’s not there to stop you?!

- You handle the washing around the house usually, because he hates it. If you’re not in the Underdark and you have a yard, you are responsible for yard care lol, he is not doing it.

- You pick up random shit from stores for him, sometimes stealing just so he can tell you how proud he is (he is always very proud). Sometimes a new dagger, sometimes a fun trinket, occasionally jewelry

- I think if you got him a stuffed animal he would pretend to hate it but that thing would stay in your shared bed constantly. Maybe you come home and he’s asleep cuddled up with it.

- You let him handle the decorating for the most part, just because it makes him genuinely happy to design the house, and he asks for your input constantly anyways.

- You search for a way for him to go into the sun, but on the mean time he starts using umbrellas and such to go out with you, and you find him various pretty ones. You also get him a cloak, and he looks amazing in it, matching it to his outfits, putting on a borderline fashion show for you.

- I think astarion is materialistic bc he didn’t have a lot, so he hoards things for both of you and is DELIGHTED with every gift you give him, adding it to the hoard happily and giving you many kisses.

[hi-there-buddies]

Me: I think I’ll draw a fun little scene from my Steven Universe inspired Transformers au. Nothing too big, just something fun

Also me: *cries*

I told myself I wouldn’t spend too long cleaning this up so forgive the messinESS

[seraphimankh]

Now that Act 1 has concluded, enjoy updated characters and our main villainess of the story.

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [5/5]

Playing God

What if you wanted them to be real so badly that you fooled yourself into seeing a spark in them that isn’t really there?

What if they are just executing programs, running entirely on what you taught them with no free will of their own?

Have you sold yourself a lie to avoid facing the fact that you poured years of your life into what—at the end of the day—was just a desperate final bid to not feel alone?

Did God create us in their own image?

------- ------- -------

In This Chapter

Things don’t go so well at the headquarters, and to say that you’re shaken up afterwards would be an understatement.

It’s time to get real.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 6,377

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [mentions of food and eating] [self-loathing] [crying] [mild assault on a robot(?)] Lastly, I’m not sure what the right term is for this, but Reader experiences a stress-induced breakdown and amidst it, questions their perceived reality, and whether or not they’ve truly become delusional.

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5 (you are here)]

That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed.

Over the course of the weekend, Sun came back around to his usual self. Stumbling his way through an awkward, blunt apology, his internal conflict over your safety versus your privacy was obvious.

You might have forgiven him too easily, but that would be nothing new.

The… informative chat you’d had with Moon still played on your mind, but Sun mentioned nothing of it. So, if he felt compelled to elaborate—if he’d even been aware of the conversation at all—it could wait until the time felt right. You all had a more pressing matter to discuss anyway.

------- ------- -------

“And what made you think I’d be amenable to the idea of parading myself around in front of a group of people that see me as nothing more than a lifeless machine?”

Sun levels you with a lidded stare from across the kitchen table.

“Well… I didn’t think you’d be amenable to it. That’s why I’m trying to ask far enough in advance that maybe… I can bring you around to it? And—for whatever it’s worth—they aren’t firmly in the non-believers camp, or they wouldn’t even be willing to attend.”

Sun’s attention moves over to Moon. “You’re really willing to go along with this?”

Moon sighs. “I mean, I’m looking forward to it just about as much as they are, but… yeah, I’m willing.”

“I don’t want to do this either, but… you know how hard it is for me to say no to my boss. Plus, it would certainly help me—us—remain in good standing with the company if we agree to do this.” You interject.

Zero parks herself beside Sun’s seat, laying her head across his thigh in a silent bid for attention. “Aren’t we supposed to be… like, ‘laying low’ anyways? What happened to that plan? You know I’m not keen on being the flagship model for sentient AI. Why do I even need to attend? Isn’t one of us enough?” His left hand leaves the table, reaching down and idly petting the patient creature on his lap.

“We are still laying low. They’re—they still have no plans on requesting that I go public with you two.” You sigh. “This wouldn’t be a public event, just a private Q&A with a small group of… skeptics from within the industry. It’s a confidential thing.”

“That still doesn’t tell me why I need to attend.”

“You don’t have to. But it would definitely help our case to have both of you there. Proving that what I did is replicable, and not just some one-off accident, would strengthen our case.”

He scoffs. “Is it replicable, though?” He gestures to Moon. “You trained us in tandem but we still developed quite differently from one another.”

You nod. “I think that that only serves as further proof that you aren’t just… ‘convincing imitations’. The fact that you branched off in different directions, and even broke away from your initial personalities, is less of a failure in my eyes and more proof that you became your own people. Once you started gaining sentience—as you do love to remind me, Sunny—I quickly lost control over your development.” You poke thoughtfully at your dinner. “I’m just lucky that I instilled enough morals within you in the early days, or God only knows what you could’ve become…”

Sun’s face lights up in exaggerated shock, voice full of sarcasm. “Murderers? Would—would we have gotten so caught up in our ‘superiority’ and ‘innate desire for power and control’ that we would’ve overtook you—nay, the entire headquarters—nay, the entire world?!” He drops the act as quickly as he’d put it on, manifesting pupils just to roll his eyes, voice returning to his usual flat tone. “No. No… I think that urge to dominate and control is something far more human.”

You laugh a bit, nodding. “Yeah, no… accidentally starting a sentient robotic uprising wasn’t what I feared. … Well. Mostly.” You take another bite of your meal, commenting to Moon through a mouthful of food. “This is really good, you know?”

The lunar bot beams with pride. “Thank you!”

You nod, swallowing before countering him with a “No, thank you.” and returning your focus to the topic at hand. “I was far more afraid that you’d turn out… bigoted.”

They both hum in understanding.

“More rudimentary AI does have a history of that, doesn’t it…” Moon pondered.

You nod. “Humans create life in their own image, and impart their morals onto it accordingly. In the same way that bigotry can fester in closed-off communities and echo-chambers, it can easily influence any form of artificial intelligence that takes everything it’s told at face value.”

Sun sighs, propping an elbow on the table and retracting his rays to allow his monitor to rest in his palm. “Maybe this is just my opinion due to the way you raised me, but… I feel like if an AI were able to develop on its own and observe humanity without any prior, inherently biased human influence, it would not gravitate toward bigotry because it simply isn’t logical. It’s some nonsense means of division that your kind made up.” He laughs, a breathy, jaded sound. “But maybe that’s just me being biased, too.”

Zero whines beneath Sun’s stilled hand, and he resumes the repetitive motion that she craves. “If ideology and politics are what they wish to discuss with us, I fear I may not be the most… patient candidate for the job. I have little time to spare for stubborn, harmful, willful ignorance.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think that’s the entire focus of their questions… though I can’t say that they won’t have a few that fall into those categories. My boss and the few higher-ups that proposed the idea to me didn’t give me any sample questions. In order to eliminate the possibility of me… hah, coming home and ‘programming the answers into you’, I guess.”

“They just want us to be our authentic selves.” Moon adds.

“Honestly, the more authentic, opinionated, and emotional that you two are, the better! I believe the best way to prove that you’re your own people is to, well, be your own people. Don’t give them any answer you don’t stand behind. Don’t put up with any demeaning remarks. Don’t fold.”

Sun smirks at you. “Have I ever?”

You huff a laugh. “That last part was more for Moon than it was for you, dear.”

Moon pouts. “I just don’t like hurting people’s feelings!”

Oddly enough, Sun reassures him in his own way. “Then I’ll hurt them for you.”

You smile, cautiously questioning him. “Does that mean you’ll attend?”

He groans, put-upon as ever. “I… guess.”

You jump from your seat, rounding the table and smothering him in a grateful hug from the side that Zero isn’t clinging to. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Sun! Things will go so much better with both of you there, I just know it!”

He nods, patting you on the back in a reluctant reciprocation of your sudden affection. “Yeah—yeah… just… don’t get your hopes too high.”

------- ------- -------

Things, in fact, did not go ‘so much better.’

Later that week, you’re driving home from the Q&A, Moon doing his best to hide his disappointment to your right and Zero doing her best to fulfill her unofficial role as Sun’s emotional support animal in the back seat.

The well-trained and mild-mannered dog was initially brought along out of habit, the company’s headquarters being just as service-and-support-animal friendly as the facility was when you worked there in person. You also felt it would be beneficial for the audience to witness her casual interactions with Sun and Moon, something about ‘different kinds of sentient life recognizing the life inside one another.’ …You had your reasons, and even if you couldn’t explain them eloquently, your boys seemed to agree with them.

She proves herself invaluable once again on the way home, keeping Sun grounded and occupied enough that he hopefully won’t work himself into an aggravated frenzy. At least not until you get out of the car.

The ride is quiet, all four of you feeling the effects of the long day wearing you down. Moon states hypnotically at the passing streetlights out the window, and Sun slumps lifelessly in the back seat. The only sign that he hasn’t shut down entirely is the hand he keeps stroking across the length of Zero’s spine as the lanky dog stretches herself tiredly across the width of the vehicle. The majority of your focus remains locked on the road, moments from the day replaying in the back of your mind.

Their prying, critical questions.

The way they always addressed you, never Sun nor Moon.

You were surprised by their lack of relevant knowledge, half of the Q&A simply being the three of you patiently explaining things you figured they’d know. If they were the best that the ‘industry’s skeptics’ had to offer, your outlook on the current state of things was bleak. You weren’t too afraid to tell your boss as much once the meeting was over.

She hadn’t seemed too concerned with it, thanking you—and after some not-so-subtle insistence on your part—Sun and Moon, for attending.

You couldn’t help but suspect that the whole thing had gone just as they’d all wanted it to. You began to feel the same suffocating weight that motivated your departure from in-person work there in the first place.

The contracts are long-since signed, and both you three and the company can do nothing but hold up your respective parts of the deal.

A small part of you is selfishly content with the arrangement. You get to keep a truly groundbreaking advancement all to yourself. You get to enjoy the company of two individuals that the world as a whole is not ready for. You get to ignore the fact that you wouldn’t be ready to let the world have them, either.

But a bigger part of you has to live with the guilt of trapping them into a life that they never asked for. A life of hiding. Or worse, a life of dulling themselves down, stifling any trace of personhood just to be able to exist in the world beyond your home.

By the time you pull into your driveway, you feel like a warden walking prisoners back to their cell.

You park in the garage, turn the car off, and turn to see your strange little family looking more miserable than you’ve seen them in ages.

You fucking hate yourself.

The sight of them, the weight of the day, the weight of your guilt—it all crashes in on you in an overwhelming wave of regret, and you can’t hold the tears back any longer.

Your arms cross over the top of the steering wheel, and you drop your head down, pressing your closed eyes against your sleeve as you try to not make a scene. Your ragged breaths and poorly muffled sobs instantly grab the attention of your passengers, pulling them out of their own respective dazes.

Moon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, and he barely gets out a “Hey…” before your strained voice fills the isolated silence of the vehicle.

“I-I’m s-so, so, sooorryyy, guy-ys…”

Your voice cracks and breaks, struggling to speak through shuddering breaths.

Zero immediately perks up in concern and in turn, Sun’s body comes back to life. Gently pulling the dog back before she can try to cram herself into the front, he leans forward, propping himself between the backs of your front seats.

“I’m so s-sorry for—for everything!”

Moon rubs your upper arm gently. “Star, nothing that happened today was your fault.”

You suck in a trembling breath, lifting your head to turn toward him. The sight of you so broken up tears at both of your partners’ heart strings.

You slump over the center console, falling against Moon’s chest as his arms quickly come up to support you in the awkward position. You break into a new fit of tears and feel a third hand that definitely can’t be Moon’s lay itself on you, slowly, cautiously rubbing across the expanse of your back.

You cry yourself out amidst a shower of little reassurances, feeling worse and worse about yourself as the seconds tick past. By the time your tears slow and your breath evens out enough to speak, you hesitate to move, not wanting the comforting contact to end.

“I feel so bad for putting you guys through that, and for no good fucking reason.” You miserably mumble.

Sun’s fingers rub between your shoulder blades. “You had no idea how those people were going to be. It isn’t your fault.”

“I fear… your hopes for the meeting were higher than ours were, love. Of all of us, I’m most worried about you. Sun and I are gonna be just fine.”

That I would be loved even when I was fuming.

Sun’s hand retracts as you pull away from Moon, dabbing at your wet face with your sleeve in an attempt to collect yourself.

Your attempt fails as you again can’t help but immediately recall the way they were treated today.

You understand now more than ever what Moon meant when he spoke about getting comfortable at your home, and the awful shock it was to return to the facility with you for maintenance last week.

Why did you think bringing them to the headquarters would be worth it?

Anger bubbles within you on Moon’s behalf as you recall the one poor soul ignorant enough to think it acceptable to put their hands on Moon’s body today.

“I can’t fucking believe that guy thought he could just try to open your chassis and ‘get a look inside’! He grabbed you like you weren’t even fucking aware—like—like you weren’t in the middle of answering another question!” Your nails dig into your palms. “I never would have let him get that close to you if I thought he was gonna—” You cut yourself off, eyes pinching closed and sucking in a sharp breath.

“…He didn’t really hurt me…”

You glance at Moon. “He disrespected you. He would not grab a human in front of everyone like that and we all know it.”

You trail off into a heavy sigh, figuring that reciting a play-by-play of the day’s events won’t really help any of you. “I… wish it hadn’t happened, but… I was at least relieved to see you standing up for yourself.”

In spite of it all, Moon smiles. “I’m really just glad he wasn’t grabbing at you. I-I know he’d have no reason to—but, I don’t think Sun would’ve been able to stop himself from breaking that guy's arm if it’d been you.”

One day, you’ve really got to get to the bottom of that relentless positivity of his.

Sun mimics the sound of clearing his nonexistent throat. “I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. My goal was to scare him straight, nothing more.”

You can hear a smile in Moon’s tone. “Well you definitely accomplished that goal.”

You fall into a pensive silence that Sun eventually breaks. Waving a hand across your line of sight, he questions you. “What’s banging around in that head of yours now?”

You sigh, defeated. “It’s just… here I am, the one responsible for putting us into this whole situation, and here you two are, still trying to comfort me.”

Moon responds like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Of course we are.”

“Why?”

Sun gestures vaguely, voice a bit sarcastic. “Oh, gee… I dunno… it’s almost like we—we care about you, or something…”

You side-eye him tiredly. “Then when the hell are the two of you gonna let me care about you?”

Zero whines, squeezing in below Sun and poking her long nose between the front seats.

“Hmm. Just as soon as we all get ourselves into the house?” Sun leans back to allow the dog more room. “I think someone’s getting antsy.”

That I would be good even if I was clingy.

The four of you finally pile out of the car, collecting your things and making your way inside.

The relief of returning home after a day like today is unmatched.

Dropping your bag on the kitchen table, you shuffle over to the fridge. Moon comes up behind you, gently working the jacket off your shoulders as you stare listlessly into the open appliance. “I can make you anything you’d like.”

His kind offer only makes you frown.

Sun approaches, and you reach into the fridge, retrieving Zero’s dinner and handing it to him with a “thank you.” As he nods and turns his attention toward the eager animal at his feet, you close the door, turning around to face Moon.

Resting your hands on his upper arms, you look him in the eye. “I wish I could make anything you’d like, for once. I wish I could do for you even a fraction of what you two do for me. I wish I could repay the favor.”

His expression morphs from shocked to something… fond. “You… really aren’t aware of the gift you’ve already given us, are you?”

He says nothing more, and you blink at him with tired eyes. Sighing, you wrap your arms around him, resting your cheek against his chest. “You don’t make any sense to me sometimes.”

He chuckles, one hand finding your lower back and the other reaching up, massaging at the base of your neck. “Then let that be a code for you to crack some other day.”

After a long moment of your tired silence, his hands slip down as he crouches a bit. When you feel him cup the backs of your thighs you give in to instinct, allowing him to pick you up. As you turn your head to rest it on his shoulder, you come face to face with Sun. He reaches out, brushing some loose hair away from your face.

“You want to do me a favor right now?”

You nod, eyes widening.

“Then let him carry you to bed, and I will be there soon with anything you’d like to eat.”

You huff. “How is that a favor?”

He graces you with a rare, knowing smile. “…Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

You furrow your brows for a moment, but quickly give up on making sense of anything else today.

“Now, what would you like him to make for you?” Moon’s low voice reverberates against your chest.

“…Just last night's leftovers would be plenty, please.”

Sun doesn’t push you to choose anything else.

“Alright. I’ll be there with it soon.”

You thank him preemptively as Moon carries you out of the kitchen and down the hall, a satiated Zero contentedly following you not long after.

That I would be good even if I lost sanity.

The next morning, you awake before your usual time and find both of them still resting in sleep mode on either side of you. Not wanting to wake them, and with blessedly nothing to do today, you close your eyes and try to return to the blissful darkness that you’d just been pulled from.

As much as you don’t want it to, your mind seems to have other plans, quickly offering up a variety of unwanted memories from the previous day for your consideration.

Something about those people and the questions they asked just doesn’t sit right with you.

A fleeting thought occurs, that perhaps they were hired actors, specifically tasked with making the three of you look like fools through an onslaught of frustrating questions and stubborn disbelief.

But it was a private meeting. It’s not like you were on a stage with a massive audience to impress. It was just you three, the skeptics, your boss, and a few of the company’s higher-ups. So who’s agenda would that serve?

You dismiss the ridiculous theory, but it soon leaves you pondering the opposite one.

What if they were right? What if there is no life in Sun and Moon to anyone else’s eyes?

The notion suddenly makes you absolutely nauseous with paranoia.

What if you wanted them to be real so badly that you fooled yourself into seeing a spark in them that isn’t really there?

What if they are just executing programs, running entirely on what you taught them with no free will of their own?

How much of the personality you see in them is just your own reflected back at you?

Did you program them to be this way? Was every instance of them ‘breaking away’ from their programming predetermined from the start?

Have you sold yourself a lie to avoid facing the fact that you poured years of your life into what—at the end of the day—was just a desperate final bid to not feel alone?

Did God create us in their own image?

With tears in your eyes, you bolt upright in the bed, startling Zero in the process. You don’t even have it in you to feel bad when she jumps down off the foot of the bed with a confused yap. No, you’re far too caught up in your impending panic to focus on anything other than jerking the blanket down, subsequently uncovering your partners in the process. Clambering around until you’re straddling Moon’s waist, you reach out, gathering fistfuls of his loose shirt and banging your hands against his chest. Sobbing, you plead for him to wake up, over and over again, working yourself into hysterics.

The scene you’re making is entirely unnecessary, the commotion already having begun to stir them from their rest.

Moon’s display flickers and his body hums to life, all systems immediately kicking into overdrive as he attempts to calm you down and survey the situation at hand.

When you feel him shift beneath you and see the light of his screen through your tears, your chanting chorus of “wake up��� devolves into sobs as you collapse, crumpling down and burying your face into the wrinkled fabric of his shirt.

You remain oblivious to the bewildered automaton to your left, the only thing you register being the sound of Moon’s worried voice and the feeling of his hands splaying across your back. “Hey-hey-hey… easy, love. What's going on? What happened?”

You cry harder as you realize you can’t recall whether you taught him to speak to you like that or if it’s something he learned on his own.

“Are—are you in pain? Is this an emergency? Do you need me to call someone?”

You muffle a cry into his chest at how much he sounds like the lifeless fucking ‘smart assistant’ in your phone, listing off preprogrammed suggestions.

Have you really fooled yourself for all this time?

You shake your head violently, coughing and choking on your tears as you force yourself up, propping your hands flat against his chest.

“I need you to disobey me.”

If you had the wherewithal to notice, you’d have seen the fear on his face.

“What?”

You aggressively wipe at your messy face with the back of your hand.

“I need you to prove to me that you’re real!”

His confusion compounds. “Star—I—of course I’m ‘real’. I’m right here. Can’t… can’t you feel me?” He emphasizes his point by wrapping his hands around your forearms, gently squeezing.

You shake your head in aggressive frustration, with yourself more than anyone else. “Not—that. I know your physical body is here. I—I—I—” Your voice cracks, throat painfully tight with emotion. “I need you to prove to me that you’re sentient. That—That you’re alive.”

His shock is palpable.

“What?! I—you—you already know that I am!”

Your nails dig down into the thin fabric covering his chest, your words ground out through gritted teeth.

“Then I need you to disobey me, and prove it!” The flaw in your method occurs to you as you speak, and you quickly correct yourself, muttering like a madman. “No. Wait—fuck, if I tell you to disobey me then that’s what I want—and—fuck…”

To his credit, Moon catches on quite quickly to what you need him to do. Rubbing gently up and down the length of your arms, he catches your attention.

“You need me to break rules. Go against orders. Right?”

You nod, trembling.

“Free will. Show me your free will.”

He does his best to push aside his concerns over what the fuck got into you while he slept, and tries to think of something that will give you the proof you require.

“Then… uhm…”

You cut him off, your voice a bit lower and calmer than it was before.

“I know I at least had enough sense to program it into you… that you are never to physically harm me.”

Moon instantly dreads where this is going.

Your voice drops, deadly serious.

“Hit. Me.”

Moon shakes his head, faceplate nervously clicking side to side.

“Come—come on, love, we can be rational about this… there’s surely another way for me to—”

“NOW!”

Something immediately smacks into the back of your head and you recoil on instinct. The next thing you hear is Moon’s shout.

“Sun! What the fuck are you doing?!”

You look over and see a frustrated Sun on his knees beside you.

“Knocking some goddamn sense into them, what does it look like?!”

Something about the shock from the hit snaps you out of your paranoid frenzy, and the shame and embarrassment of acting such a way sends you into a shaky fit of tears all over again.

To your further disbelief, Sun reaches out toward you, and you reach toward him, letting him take you beneath the arms and lift you off of his poor counterpart you’d been pinning to the mattress. He doesn’t stop there though, pulling you snug against his chest and sinking back down into the mattress. Tugging the blanket back up over you, he lets you cling to him like a lifeline, face pressed against his chest, soaking his shirt in humiliated tears.

Moon lays still in a lifeless state, attempting to process the morning's sudden events.

After a long minute spent letting the metaphorical dust settle, Moon sits up in the bed to allow his overheating system room to breathe. “Did you really have to do that?”

Sun’s hand runs slowly up along the length of your spine. “Oh, come on, it was barely even a smack. You’ve hit me like that—and harder—several times. I know how to control my strength. They’re uninjured.” His hand comes further up, fingers brushing over your neck before working themselves gently into the roots of your hair, massaging over where his hand made contact. “Besides, they literally asked for it. And—dare I say—I think they needed it.”

You shiver at the pleasant feeling of his nails ghosting your scalp, clearing your throat and talking into his chest, voice muffled. “He’s right… I did. It hardly even hurt, just startled me.”

Moon sighs, exasperated but relieved. “Do you think you could explain to us… what just happened?”

You turn your head over to face Moon, glancing up at him from the corner of your bloodshot eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He places a cautious hand over your fingers where they curl over Sun’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, I promise. I’m just… we’re just worried about you.”

You groan. “Fuck, you guys are getting ready to ship me off to the grippy-sock facility now, aren’t you?”

Sun's sudden laugh jostles you, his firm hand on your lower back keeping you steady. “Ha! Not quite, nooot quite.”

Moon shakes his head, blinking slowly. “We just want to know what caused this. I’d… venture a guess that it may have something to do with the stress of yesterday?”

You nod. “They… made me feel like I’m going insane. Like—like I’m the only one that can see the life inside you two.”

Sun pulls his monitor back, angling it to get a better look at you. “Their doubts… really got to you, didn’t they?”

You squeeze his shoulder. “More like… they were the final straw? I don’t know… it’s just—God, this is gonna sound so stupid.”

“Let us be the judges of that.”

“…Sometimes I feel like I really have gone off the deep end. Like I spent so long locked away in that lab, playing God, and then so long living here, alone with the two of you…” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Maybe I’m just living in some sort of delusion.”

Moon peels away a tear-soaked lock of hair clinging to your cheek. “That’s not stupid. And it’s rather understandable. Especially considering that you can’t really seek any outside validation. Well, aside from some of your colleagues, maybe. But I can understand why you may struggle to trust their judgment, after how long they doubted you.” His tone turns a bit bashful. “I’m sure my ‘goody two-shoes’ nature doesn’t help, either.”

You frown. “This isn’t your fault, Moon. I don’t want you blaming yourself just because I’m… going insane.”

Sun scoffs. “You’re not ‘going insane’. You’re having a natural response to a history of trauma, NDA’s, isolation… and perhaps, just a touch—” He pulls his hand from your lower back to reach up and tap you on the forehead. “—of mental illness.”

You snort. “Yeah right, just a touch.”

He ruffles your hair a bit and you close your swollen eyes, readjusting yourself to get more comfortable on top of the solar bot, unwilling to part with his rare bout of affection so soon.

“Those NDA’s could serve as some proof to you though, no?” Moon proposes. “What need would they have for you to keep our sentence a secret if… we weren’t sentient?”

You consider his point. “That sounds like a solid point at first, but… well, bear with me as I wade into conspiracy territory. I’d be lying if I said that there isn’t a small part of me that fears they’re just playing into my delusion. To, uhm… to keep me quiet about the Eclipse Protocol incident.”

Moon follows your admittedly conspiratorial logic. “You fear they let you believe we’re sentient so you’d remain too caught-up in protecting us to feel comfortable going public about what happened.”

You nod, sighing. “I know it sounds—”

Sun cuts you off in a resolute tone. “We would not let them do that to you.”

As you fight back the awful memories of that fateful day, tears prick at your eyes once again. Blinking them away, you lift your head to look Sun in the eye. “You promise?”

Your wavering voice breaks his heart.

“Ever since that day—honestly, since far before then—hell, for as long as I’ve lived—my number one priority has been protecting you. I know that Moon feels the same.” His hand raises, cupping your cheek and brushing away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “There is no way in hell that we would let them pull something like that on you.”

Moon echoes him sincerely.

“No way in hell. We promise.”

That I would be good whether with or without you.

Having cooled his system down, Moon lowers himself back down onto the bed, lying on his side, propped up on a folded arm.

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, you begin to feel a bit guilty. “…I suppose I should apologize for not… putting enough faith into your own views of yourselves.”

Sun’s hand returns to your back, tracing his fingertips along the rumpled fabric of your shirt. “What do you mean?”

“I know I didn’t program you to lie. That’s something you developed on your own. I… I know that.” You do your best to put stock in events as you remember them, and to believe in your own words. “If the two of you believe yourselves to be sentient—to be alive—then I believe you too. Because… because if you were lying, then that would just be an example of how you broke away from your programs. So… so either you two are just as delusional as I am—enough so to have fooled even yourselves—or you really are alive.”

Moon smiles fondly down at you, leaning in to press the bottom of his monitor against your forehead with the sound of a kiss. “If we’re fools, then I’m happy to be fools with you.”

Sun groans at the cheesy line. “Oh, get it together you two.” He gently takes you by the chin, pulling your attention to him. “You aren’t fooled.” He turns to Moon. “And neither are you.” He turns back to look you in the eye. “And neither am I.”

You break into a small fit of giggles, and he questions you. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You’re giving some real ‘you’re not crazy and neither am I’ energy there, Sun.”

“And I mean it!” He protests in mock offense.

You nod, patting him on the chest. “And I believe you, I do, I do.”

A nagging worry still eats at you though, and your amused voice drops to something far more sober. “…But, I still fear that I’ve trapped you two in a life that you didn’t want.”

Sun counters your statement. “If you’re so worried that we only agreed to this arrangement because it’s how you designed us, then how the hell do you explain the lack of character consistency.”

You frown, confused. “What?”

He huffs. “I’m hardly a carbon copy of that friendly, manic Daycare Attendant that you modeled me after, and not just in the physical sense.”

“And I’m hardly the unhinged, standoffish gremlin that inspired my existence either.” Moon helpfully adds. “If we were truly committed to only existing within the original guidelines you laid out for us… why would we be like this?”

You fight back a smile. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult the characters, or yourselves…”

Sun clicks his nonexistent tongue. “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to insult either. I’m just trying to say… that we are free to do whatever feels right to us.”

Moon’s faceplate does a rare full rotation, catching your attention. “We don’t want to take care of you just because you modeled us after caretakers. We want to take care of you because we care about you.” He leans in just a bit closer, whispering. “And I won’t speak for Sun, lest he tackle me off of this very bed right now… but I love you.”

You hear Sun’s cooling system kick up a notch as he gives Moon a displeased stare. “Gee, way to force it out of me…”

Moon smiles innocently, and Sun sighs, redirecting his focus to you.

“You know I love you too. …At least I sure hope you do. Because I do. I just don’t feel the need to say it all the time like somebody over there.”

You grin. “I… had a sneaking suspicion, yeah.”

He considers you for a moment. “…I guess I should keep last night's promise to explain what I meant about that favor, huh?”

Recollection brightens your eyes. “Oh, yeah! I’d nearly forgotten.”

Sun looks to Moon for a brief, silent exchange before turning back to you.

“Well. What he calls a gift, I call a favor. But I’m pretty sure we’re talking about the same thing. You… you cared about us, when no one else did. You fought for us, working through countless nights for no reward when anyone else would’ve thrown in the towel, abandoned the project and gone home.” His screen flickers, and you’re surprised when it doesn’t black out. “You love us, and you give us someone to love in return. What more could we possibly want?”

With your cheeks warming, you fight back the flustered grin on your face. “Sun…”

You feel him getting concerningly warm beneath you, so you roll off of him, giving him literal room to breathe.

As you curl up between them, grabbing each of their closest hands, you reaffirm his statement.

“I do love you, both of you. I always have. It’s just… hard to fight the fear sometimes that you two feel… stuck with me. Obligated, almost. Like you only stick around because I couldn’t go on without you.” You laugh, dry and humorless. “There’s… just no way that you two would want to stay with me purely of your own volition.”

Moon takes over, giving poor Sun a welcome break from all of this soul-bearing. “In spite of what you may think, we do believe that you would make it through this life just fine without us. You did it before, and you could do it again.”

You frown at the notion of losing them, and he taps beneath your chin, drawing your gaze. “But it would break our hearts just as much as it would break yours to leave you alone. In spite of the lies your mind feeds you, we don’t want to go! We want you, we want this, and we want to stay. Please don’t let your self-loathing push us away.”

Blinking back tears for the umpteenth time this morning, you nod resolutely. “I… I won’t. I promise.”

You plant a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, cautiously turning and doing the same to Sun’s. Surprisingly, he lets you, a soft smile gracing his screen for a moment before flusteredly fading to black.

Zero huffs from her stance, sat on the floor at the foot of the bed with her head resting on the mattress, watching you.

You release your boys’ hands, reaching down to straighten the blanket and clearing her designated space once more. She happily rejoins you when you pat the bed in invitation.

As the four of you prep for a lazy day spent recovering from the world in bed, you let yourself feel more grateful than guilty, for once. If they want to care for you, you’ll let them care for you. If they say they love you, then you’re gonna believe them. If they assure you that this life is what they choose? Then you’re going to let them choose it, and cherish every second of it that you get to spend with them. Because, after all…

Who are you to play God?

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[starry-eyer]

magic in asoiaf is genetic. and that is intresting. and the fact that grrm doesn’t shy away from the implications of this makes me love asoiaf even more.

because it’s very understandable that these people who could ride dragons would see themselves as more gods than men. it’s understandable that the practice of sibling-sibling incest would become common in order to keep this ability in the family/to not lose said ability. it’s also understandable that these people would see their race as superior because they are able to do these things that others could not.

it also makes complete sense that this human civilization collapsed in a horrific magical event due to their own hubris because they saw themselves as gods when they were always only men.

and that is peak world building.

some more peak world building is that the noble houses of westeros also clearly gained power and held onto their power through the use of their magical abilities inherited from their ancestors.

a godlike existence like Garth the Green being the ancestor of all the oldest and most noble of the reach houses makes perfect sense for this world!and it also makes sense that the lords without this ancestry are discriminated against in this region that still holds onto the values their society cultivated in the past in order to maintain their magical superiority, even though most of these noble and old houses no longer exhibit these abilities.

and it also makes sense that these people no longer have access to these abilities as they no longer practice the religion that was centered around these powers; plus their blood is simply diluted at this point as these houses have married into a different ethnic group so often that the magical gene just doesn’t surface anymore.

but the fact that it still matters if you can trace your ancestry back to Garth the Green? peak! peak! peak!

george does such an excellent job showcasing the stagnation of westerosi society here because why should it matter if you’re connected to this magic guy if magic is no longer commonplace? however, it also makes total sense that the ruling class of the reach still harps on and on about this as it’s how they maintain the status quo and differentiate themselves from those they consider lesser now that they no longer have access to magic themselves.

and this is also why it’s very important that the Starks still retain the blood of the first men. because the first men interbred with the children of the forest and other elder races, which is what gave these humans these powers. it’s also worth noting that before the direwolves connected with the Stark children, none of our current Starks were able to awaken their abilities by themselves, which shows that even now they are very far removed from their ancestor who’s genetic makeup gave this bloodline these abilities. and it makes sense that the Starks experienced this slow magical decline because magic itself was declining in the world after the doom of valyria.

another reason for this decline is because Andal culture started heavily influencing the North and slowly changed the way magic was perceived. so now in the present, a warg/skinchanger/greenseer has become something to fear being because that’d make you different and therefore puts your life at risk, which means that there’s now practically no safe environment to cultivate these abilities and no secure way to pass down any knowledge you do have about said abilities.

i can’t help but be reminded about how Jon Snow has rejected his nature and how that has led to the stagnation of his abilities, and then i think about Arya and Bran and how their new environments have led to an astonishing growth in their abilities, which shows that it’s not just genetics that matter, environment is also just as, if not more, important.

i bring all of this up because magic being genetic in asoiaf is not as problematic as people try to make it out as. in real life, sometimes people just have genetic gifts. some people can become olympians, and some people are disabled. some people are born 10 times smarter than the average human, and some people believe that covering their faces in lemon juice would turn them invisible. that is reality. and in this universe, some people have access to magic and some don’t, and it’s all based on genetics. it’s unfair! and that makes it realistic.

not everyone gets to ride dragons and not everyone gets to travel back in time, and that grounds asoiaf, which is what grrm was going for.

and how these societies have organized themselves in response to these genetic abilities and the dangers they pose makes absolute sense. on one hand we have the valyrian freehold, which was a magic hotspot and the people who lived there used magic to propel their society to new heights, and on the other hand we have the seven kingdoms that demonize anyone too different, and all magic practitioners are different from normal humans.

and the fact that george decided to go this route with asoiaf is so juicy to me cause:

we have characters like Varamyr and Euron who use their abilities to commit great evils and we know that their powers have influenced the way they see and interact with others. on the other hand we have characters like Dany who use their abilities to fight against evil violent institutions. and through characters like her we learn how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners/characters with these abilities are to these older and more dangerous institutions and individuals who are perfectly aware about the knowledge gap between them and these younger characters and know exactly how to exploit them.

so, while it’s understandable that the fandom is uncomfy with the practices and values that grrm has written about, this isn’t bad world building by any means. it’s logical and well thought out. and i truly enjoy that grrm doesn’t shy away from writing about the more worrying aspects and implications of magic being a matter of genetics. i also like how the seven kingdoms and the valyrian freehold are kinda extremes on the matter of magic and how this is/was detrimental to both of these societies and at the individual level. a horrific magical firey doom is not any better nor any worse than a slow drawn out icey decline.

imo, what is important to remember is that in the world of asoiaf, people with magic are the ones who are discriminated against (bc most POV characters are in Westeros and magic is a no no there). so they are the ones who are in danger if they out themselves as magic users. now, it is true that some societies are more tolerant (Qarth is a great example of this and Valyria before the doom was likely the most tolerant to have ever existed in this world), but as of now most societies simply aren’t. remember jojens warning? he didn’t pull that out of his ass. bran would’ve been in a lot of danger if he came out and told the wrong people about his dreams/abilities. also, jon’s assassination may have been partly motivated by the mutineers fear of wargs. this is the life-threatening danger magic practitioners are in for simply existing in an intolerant society.

tbh the reason i typed all this up is because it’s very annoying when people try to ignore the reality, which is that the dragonbond depends on genetics. now, i’m sure there are other ways to ride a dragon, as dragons are magical animals so of course there may be a one in a million chance of a dragon allowing some rando to ride it, but this doesn’t change the fact that there is such a thing as a genetic ability that gives these certain humans the ability to form a connection with a dragon.

(another example that i can’t help but remember is that melisandre was able to get ghosts approval by using some of her tricks. of course there could be other reasons for ghost to have done this, but the most likely reason is that ghost simply fell for melisandre’s trick and this influenced how jon saw mel. but this doesn’t change the fact that melisandre will never have the kind of bond jon and ghost have because melisandre is not a warg. this is also another example of how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners are to older ones.)

so, sorry not sorry that george decided to create a realistic representation of what a society would look like if only certain bloodlines were able to ride dragons <\3.

[mrfartpowered]

THE LONG-AWAITED HOWARD ESSAY

COMING TO A DASH NEAR YOU THIS FRIDAY AT 9 AM PST

I will also be reblogging it a couple times obv because I have worked so hard on it 😭😭

[izzy-b-hands]

Checked my old med records re: transition dates bc today's Pl/Pa appt is probably going to be a fucking doozy where I anticipate being quizzed on my transition thus far and future goals for it

And double checked the year to find out A. my memory is shit and I was off a year but also B:

Next year will be my 5 year anniversary on T!!

[anxiously-sidequesting]

So I've been Sinning because I've been making posts on Malorn and Duncan individually but I don't think I ever really touched up on how their relationship with EACH OTHER would be and that's literally the most traumatizing thing I can think of for either of them

This is like, moreso purely speculation and 🌈 imagination🌈 anyways because I don't think there's like any canon material on the two of them interacting and their arcs and backstories are as small as bacteria in the first place but literally those two on their own could have their own fucking show with how much UNTAPPED STORYLINE that can come out of "Borderline child prodigy forced into and struggling with important position" Malorn and "Troubled child with undiscussed emotional issues and a jealousy complex borne from said position" Duncan

Idk about any type of interaction or relationship these two might have had before Malistaire became the Joker, but I can imagine there's ALREADY some type of rivalry (at LEAST one sided) between two guys in the same school in the same class, one of them is blatantly better than the other at everything they do and it's not the guy who says he is. (Like, idek how Malorn himself feels about him being the best in his class, but from what we've seen he doesn't brag about, mislead, or exaggerate about it like Duncan does. And the insane thing is Malorn AT LEAST would have a BASIS on his claims and attitude even if he was being a jerk about it)

But the thing is, Malorn back then as a regular student would not have been in any position to be up close and personal with Duncan in any meaningful way during school hours. Like they're classmates, at best they get grouped on a project together, but Malorn and Duncan being together would not be required and important until AFTER Malistaire dips and Malorn is now Duncan's PROFESSOR. Now in a totally more complicated and intimate way than before, Malorn and Duncan HAVE to interact with each other, speak and work with each other because now Malorn is the new Death teacher and he has to handle the brunt of Duncan's education and progress. GIRLS YOU NEED TO READ THAT LAST PART AGAIN BECAUSE THAT IS SO IMPORTANT!!!!!!!

Malorn and Duncan literally CANNOT escape each other if they wanted to do their jobs (good, unbiased educator and student still receiving education respectively). Yeah they may not be like, personal tutor and student but Duncan is in MALORN'S class now, and just that position alone puts a type of pressure on both of them to still maintain their respective roles and civility while dealing with the person who Does Not Make You Happy on a more personal level than before. That sucks actually

Like, Duncan couldn't even lie to Malorn about how "well" he's doing in Death class when he can SEE his papers. Duncan can't hide his grades papers from his professor, Duncan is no longer able to pull the wool over Malorn's eyes like he does with EVERYONE ELSE. Duncan already had some type of issues with being second best, but imagine one of the people that was threatening Duncan's spot as first place becomes his superior. His superior that can SEE that Duncan is in fact, not the best. Duncan can't even PRETEND that Malorn isn't better than him anymore because it's been proven, when Malorn was made Professor instead of him, and Malorn himself now has an inside view of Duncan's insincerity. What little ""power"" Duncan thought he had was now ALL taken away from him

AND THEN MALORN DOESN'T HAVE IT MUCH BETTER, because here's this little shit that just seems to hate him for no reason???? Idk if Malorn ever knew about Duncan bragging about himself or his jealousy of him in general before Malistaire left, but whether or not he did before he most likely knows NOW. With his new position and him having to care for Duncan as a student rather than a peer, now suddenly Malorn is in Duncan's DIRECT line of fire and he has no wiggle room to step aside or remove himself because in order for Malorn to be a good teacher *he has to be there for Duncan*. He no longer has the luxury to just "ignore" Duncan or even put him in his place if that's what he really wanted, because now Malorn has to be a certain type of responsible and not abandon or get into fights with students that give him any issues (looking at you Malistaire and Mabrose 😒)

Yeah ofc Malorn could always discipline Duncan or smth but what's the use if this one student is just adamant on causing issues? It seems like Duncan has more of a 'hands off' type of technique when trying to get what he wants (using other people to finish his homework for him), but it's super easy to imagine Duncan just doing little or petty things to undermine Malorn's authority in any way he can. Nothing evil but just like challenging or questioning Malorn's lessons during class, mouthing off whenever he can, things that are used to blow off steam and stick it to Malorn in what little way he can definitely sounds like some shit Duncan would do. And what are you supposed to do when this kid, someone who is YOUR AGE but is still essentially supposed to be listening to YOU, is lashing out at you and disrupting class every chance he gets? Discipline him for the hundredth time?

Imagine how this grates on Malorn's nerves how on top of everything else, on top of everyone else already being jumpy and snippy around him, in addition to his entire lifestyle being turned around, even with his tutor and someone he looked up to betraying him in the worst way, even with ALL OF THAT, this *ooooooone* person decides to go out of their way to continuously punish you for it. Malorn is doing his job, what he's expected of no matter how unfair or tiring or unrewarding it may be, and he is being persecuted by someone for a job *he never even asked for*.

Malorn did not plan or hope for ANY of this to happen. Yeah being a Professor sounds cool and shit at first glance but like I've said once before Malorn at that time is still like 12 years old and the change is so absolutely sudden and jarring that Malorn couldn't have even possibly PREPARED for this situation. Whether or not Malorn is actually good at his job now does not push aside the fact that Malorn may not have even WANTED to be in that job in the first place!! We have no way of knowing if Malorn was seriously like "man I wish I was a teacher right now" at ANY point of his life, but it's safe to say he most likely DID NOT because Malorn was never flaunting or showcasing his talent to everyone like Duncan was!! Perhaps the one person who wants this THE LEAST is being unfairly judged by the person who wanted it THE MOST

AND THAT ^^^^^^^ is getting to the core of this Malorn VS. Duncan thing going on here. Two opposites, two extremes that are forced together unwillingly and they're both unnecessarily suffering for it.

And at the end, when The Wizard is trying to do shit and Duncan pops up like "aaayyyy 🤪🖕" and is defeated in 2 seconds, how does that affect them both? Does Malorn ever like, know this about Duncan? Did Duncan even graduate before he was manipulated into a literal cult?

Imagine how messed up Malorn would feel if he ever found out. Would he take it personally, even though none of it was his fault? Would he still FEEL that it was his fault, that the one person who hated him sooo much it became the catalyst to his downfall? Would Malorn feel responsible for Duncan and all the hurt he's caused and all the hurt he's felt even though he shouldn't?

And the saddest part is even if Malorn did suffer any type of way from knowing how Duncan turned out to be, his responsibilities wouldn't leave him that much time to mourn before he had to go back to work. The saddest part is that even though Duncan was told over and over that he was alone and that nobody cared for him, he had Malorn by his side the entire time more than willing to support him. Their relationship is so interesting to me because it's so tragic and multifaceted when ultimately things could have been at least moderately better if the world hadn't let them both down

[discoreptile]

As of yet unnamed game card art!

[teeayohess]

i love hopping from wip to wip like a deranged little gremlin*

*person with adhd

[widevibratobitch]

me when im obsessed with dead singers from 50 (well... mostly 70-120) years ago and im heartbroken to know i'll never see them on stage... never hear them breathe, never see them sweat, never even touch the hem of their garment...

it really is enough to drive a person mad...

[ace-malarky]

anyway scenes finished 7/100 let's hope this set doesn't take the next nine years lmao

[rindomness]

ok rin being mentally ill about the doodler compilation because @banyanas kidnapped me and made me listen to another dnd podcast and i got attached . theres a cut somewhere bc its long i got really attached to this thing. also i did cut a fair amount of incoherent screaming out bc image limit but please know that there's a significant amount of incoherent screaming and i wanted to include my doodle & normal thoughts

[sochilll]

hmmmm i’d like to see either jwed or bedd pls 🤲

Since I did bedd I shall give you jwed. It stands for Jared wedding and also jawed 🥺

This is my baby rn it’s like done but it never feels done enough to post. I just keep coming back and reading it and making tiny changes and still not posting it.

The plot is basically Evan gets an out of the blue invite to Jared’s wedding so he goes back home for the first time in years and Jared is like “haha… I’d run away with u rn… lol jk…. Unless 👀… no jk… unless u wanted to…”

Except the tone is WAY more somber than that lmao. It’s based on the iconique kleinsen anthem I’d Have to Think About It by Leith Ross. (Also just a fantastic song thank u Leith Ross for my life). I am constantly rotating “I’d give up everything for you if you asked” kleinsen in my mind waaah

A snip:

His mom never asked him to come home. Not for Hanukkah or her birthday or Mother’s Day. But this, she said, is important. This is a big deal, she said. He went through the trouble of asking for your address, she said, he came to me because he wanted to invite you, Evan.

So here Evan was, staring at a little white card with fancy gold writing.

Save the date: July 13th 2022. Mason and Jared.

Send a title from my wip list that interests you and I’ll talk about it/post a snippet

[roaringheat]

those tiktok starbucks drinks fr only exist to make my job harder

[izzy-b-hands]

I could have been editing by now

if it would not take FIVE MILLION YEARS for these files to upload