#the sun is weird man

[see-arcane]

Thinking about another dividing line between Thomas Hutter and Jonathan Harker:

One has absolutely no poker face whatsoever.

The other successfully played 'We both know I know you're a bloodsucking horror but the pretense won't end until one of us cracks' chicken for two months solid.

In Thomas' defense, he went through a lot more immediate stressors and terrors within a much shorter time period. Dude was frozen and starving and being magic trick-whammied and getting his blood drained from the tit in under 24 hours' time. Probably not in the best shape to put on a good performance.

But Jonathan, despite being given a far softer introduction to his nightmare, does absolutely ping that Dracula is 1) Keeping him prisoner 2) Not human and 3) Planning to drink him with his roommates and undeadify him the moment the game ends. Still, being a good customer service worker, he bottles up his breakdowns for private time. Then clocks back in to Vampire Hell Guest Mode.

"Yes Count, I would love to hear more war history while you randomly touch me :) This is so nice and fun and normal :)"

I won't say he'd do much better in Thomas' spot, seeing as Orlok is...not built for playing cordial host. But Jonathan is like Mina in the way that he can get a person rambling. If nothing else, I think Orlok would have been caught in gruff peacocking mode for a fair bit longer than he intended if Jonathan started fishing. Orlok would take Dracula's 'lol you soft city boys know nothing of the ways of the hunter' line and turn it into a full diatribe while Jonathan nodded along and tallied the seconds in which he got to keep all of his blood in him

[paperglader]

watching ep 104, listening to laudna talk about Whitestone festivals and crops, and watching Imogen just look at her so smitten… I can’t help but feel like it’s funny that they got roped into this whole god eater thing, cause they really are the most build-for-domestic-life motherfuckers I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Like tell me that you cannot see it in Imogen’s eyes how badly she just wants to elope with this woman on a little farm where they can raise horses and garden and have small little quiet lives in a place that doesn’t suck like gelvaan and where they can get their peace but also get to enjoy the little things in life??? And she looks this way anytime laudna like breathes.

Meanwhile they have to go off and try to kill a god and maybe die in the process or whatever

[fatedroses]

Many things were used to describe the mad hermit of Amaurot: a drunkard, degenerate, cynical, and even monstrous by those who stirred trouble for the newly appointed Azem. But nothing could prepare Emet-Selch for what he would see for himself, when offered a chance to meet the Sun's Shadow.

[gayrathatata]

I like it when he's deranged :)

[r0tting-rat]

Happy Christmas!

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None Words: 1900+ Au: Midnight Overture: Cotard's Delirium (by me) Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you do the mistake of sleeping-in while in the same house as two very strict robots. As a result to your laziness, you are forced to help out one of your bitchy employers in the kitchen. (Sun-centric, Sun's name is Sonne)

The walls of the manor were quiet, despite it being Christmas Eve. No child was running through the halls, no shadow or whisper could be heard behind closed doors or seen peeking behind corners—the rooms were all empty of their usual inhabitants, for Moon had taken all the kids outside to play in the snow. You had woken up late that morning, groaning in pain as your back and arm muscles complained and screamed at you to relax, with no automaton to knock on your door or scream at you to get dressed and come down for breakfast. In fact, after sending a glance to the clock hanging on the wall next to the door, you realized that you had skipped the meal altogether. Did Sonne really let you sleep that long? Seeing the clock’s hands pointing at 10:35, you immediately jumped up to your feet, cursing under your breath as you hurried to get dressed before any of the two automata caught you slacking off, throwing on a random sweater you had found at the foot of your bed and attempting to slip inside a pair of jeans you had left laying on the floor next to the drawer. Sonne was going to kill you for being late—seriously this time. He didn’t like when people left him waiting.

“Sonne?” you began to call after finally leaving your room, searching your brain for a plausible excuse as to why you were still sleeping past 10 am while running down the hall. You almost jumped down the stairs leading to the second floor, turning right and expecting to find the automaton sitting in the living room, in front of the fire, like he liked to do on cold winter mornings like that one. “Sonne, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…!”

The automaton wasn’t there where you were used to find him; the fire was lit, the couches and comfy armchairs were surrounding it just like you had left them the night before, but no sun-themed robot was sitting on the one closest to the burning brazier with a soft blanket covering his shoulders and arms, complaining about the cold freezing his wires and locking his limbs in places. You looked, confused, outside the windows, expecting to see the large backyard covered in snow staring back at you, finding instead the three kids playing in the white coat of winter with their lunar guardian. Basil, the youngest, was trying to sneak up on Moon, as his older sisters Blanche and Annabel threw snowballs at the laughing automaton. Where else could Sonne be? Your second guess turned out to be the right one; the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards and drawers, dancing around the burning stoves and grilling pans like only someone who had cooked in the same house for 30 years could do.

Standing in a corner of the dining room, which opened on the left from the stairs, you hid from the automaton, squishing your body behind the white arch that separated the kitchen from the dining room. You listened to him working and let your body be surrounded by the enticing smells of his cooking, afraid to let your presence be known in case the robot was mad at you for being late. You were supposed to sweep the snow off the front yard that morning, but incredibly, you had messed up and slept in.

Peeking around the corner, into the bright kitchen, you let your curiosity conquer your mind and attemted to get a glimpse of what Sonne was cooking, daring to take a step forward when your eyes couldn’t see what was hiding inside those saucepans and bowls. 

The automaton was dressed in fine brown trousers and a cream-colored sweater, layered over a white button up which peeked up from under the collar, paired with his usual black dress shoes. A red apron hugged his front, closing tightly in a perfect knot around his extremely thin waist, but you could bet your head on the fact that no drop or stain would have been found on the red fabric, were you to go and check right in that moment. Your eyes wandered down, to the place where you often found them lingering, enchanted; to the ever-working robot’s hands, which moved with such grace and precision over the kitchen’s counter that you could barely understand what he was doing. Slim and long, the metallic brass-colored fingers looked delicate and kind under the bright lights of the room, but you had seen them lifting furniture and wood logs heavier than you in the past to know better and not be fooled by how gentle they might have looked at first sight. Sonne, in general, looked overall like a pretty delicate automaton, but that had never eased your fears and worries enough to allow you to relax in their presence.

“Would you come in and help me?” he asked, startling you and almost making you lose your balance as you leaned against the arch. You hadn’t expected him to see you so soon, turned around as he was, too! Did the robot have eyes behind his head? Sonne glanced over his shoulder, his pale blue optics fixing on you with all the intensity they always held, and you shivered on the spot. 

“So? You’re just going to stand there and do nothing as I cook supper for tonight?” Sonne asked you again, and just then you realized that he wasn’t mad at you for sleeping in, despite the usual cold expression on his face. “Cut some parsley for me, will you? Enough to fill that bowl over there.”

He pointed at an orange bowl sitting on the counter next to him, then he resumed stirring something with a wooden spoon inside the huge pot in front of him. Steam rose up from it, slightly fogging the small, circular glasses sitting on the slight edge of his nose. You were pretty sure that the glasses had been glued to his faceplate, because there was no way they could stay still on his flat features.

Slowly, you began to walk towards him, hesitant to stand too close to his tall frame and get in the way of his work. After a few seconds, you managed to summon the words you needed to express your confusion.

“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t sweep the snow off the porch and yard this morning?” you wondered, and the robot rolled his eyes in his dramatic manner. “I slept in, and…”

“No, I’m not,” replied Sonne, “Wash the parsley before cutting it, and remember to make sure it’s finely minced, or Basil will refuse to eat and start to pick at it.”

You hadn’t forgotten about the little picky eater, but that didn’t answer your question.

“So… It’s not a problem if I woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago?” you continued, and once more the automaton sighed, annoyed. 

“Do you seriously think I’d force you to wake up and work on Christmas Eve?” Sonne asked, turning around to send you an offended glare, “Yesterday you went to sleep late after helping mein Mondlicht in the library, so it’s only fair we’d allow you to sleep in this morning. I’m not a monster, liebling.”

After that last sentence, you felt a little bad for assuming the worst about your employer, but at the same time he had proved to be quite cruel in the past, so you weren’t entirely in the wrong. Shrugging, you went to stand next to him, grabbing a handful of parsley and moving it to the sink to wash.

“Mondlicht took care of the yard and porch a few hours ago,” Sonne explained, resuming his previous task and turning around, giving you his back once more, “Which means that you can stop moping around and help me out in the kitchen to prepare for tonight.”

“What are we making?” you asked him, taking out a knife from one of the drawers. At your question, the automaton hummed gently, like your curiosity had pleased him greatly.

“Since last year we followed the German tradition, this Christmas we’re going with the Italian one. You wouldn’t know, since this is your first Christmas with us, but it's common in this household to take turns on who gets to cook for the other,” replied the automaton, leaving your side to go and open the fridge to take out some butter. “I’m cooking for mein Mondlicht a dish from his hometown: creamed codfish with polenta.”

As you began to cut the freshly washed parsley, you stole a glance in Sonne’s direction, not missing the little smile on his face and the shine in his eyes; a shine you had seen on very few occasions, and never directed towards you. He looked happy just at the thought of cooking for his family. 

“What if I said that I’d rather not eat fish?” you grinned, bringing your eyes back on the knife, “Would Moon hit me on the head for not following his tradition?”

You didn’t hear Sonne moving closer to you, in fact, you didn’t even see his shadow looming over you before his hands were grabbing yours, stopping your movements, and his chest was pressed against your back.

“Of course not,” he replied, taking hold of both your hands and carefully beginning to maneuver them on the cutting board, correcting your stance and showing you the proper way to mince herbs. All the while, you were staring down at his fingers entwined with yours with wide eyes, unblinking, unable to even breathe as the robot’s voice rumbled against the back of your skull. “Me and Moonie love to teach the little ones about all the interesting traditions of our different cultures, but that’s not where we stop. They’re such smart little humans, they’re always eager for more, so more is what we give them. We cook dishes from France, Belgium, Turkey, Spain; what’s wrong with adding another? I’m sure we’d easily find something you’d enjoy as well, liebling.”

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could barely be able to hear the robot’s words over it. You weren’t sure, at first, if your sudden panic was caused by fear or embarrassment, but you found out quickly which one of the two it was when Sonne chuckled and your face turned a deep shade of pink. With amusement, the brass automaton took a step back, releasing your hands from his hold, and watched as you blinked a few times to regain your composure. 

“I’m sure you can go on from here without my help,” he said, smiling, even though you were visibly more lost than before, “Given that you have carefully watched and learned from my demonstration.”

Still blushing, you looked up at him over your shoulder, involuntarily letting him know with your large, panicked eyes that you hadn’t followed his advice at all. With a theatrical sigh, Sonne pushed you aside and took place on the cutting board next to you, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and then taking out a second knife from the drawer on his right.

“Alright, I’ll show you once more,” he declared, tilting his head back to stare down at you like he often did, “Don’t get distracted this time though. Understood?”

Silently, you nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Sonne.

“Good,” he hummed, “Hope you’re actually the fast learner you claim to be in your resume.”

Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate <3

Mein Mondlicht= my moonlight

Liebling= darling/dear

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

I know that I have Lilith's womb egg thing she uses to create a new body for herself to use every time she's reborn after dying named a Flesh egg, because that is what it is. It's a pulsating mass of flesh on a ceiling that's essentially a giant womb that gestates her new form.

the cursed name for it that absolutely fits with the Blood Angels vibe is calling it the Womb of Sanguinius, but that is the most cursed thing I could ever name that thing. However it also probably has a hundred different names depending on who you ask

Blessed clutch, Womb of Sanguinius, Ovum of Sanguinius, or Seed of the Great Angel are probably all names used by the Blood angels and their successor chapters

the Mourning Suns probably call it Ovum of the Matriarch, the Blood Seed, or more simply the Blessed Clutch

the Imperium probably calls it the accursed Womb of the Malformed, the Flesh Taint, and or Ovum of Chaos. Probably think it has to do with Slaanesh until they see what hatches out of it. In which womb of the Malformed it is-

[fallbabylon]

The Wicker Man exhibition at the Horse Hospital- London UK

[mechieonu]

but like maybe bill had a point if i saw a man that wasn't yet infected w The Horrors but was very clearly intending to run headlong into them I'd snatch him up and ruin him for anyone else too

[thursdays-adult]

You know, throwing this out there completely randomly, we really don't talk enough about Zhao from Avatar. Like his story is absolutely wild. Man was trained by Jeong Jeong, freaking found Wan Shi Tong's library, found out about the solar eclipse from the library, burned a section of the library down, escaped from that alive, captured the avatar, successfully breached the walls of the Northern Water Tribe which had never been done, and killed the freaking moon spirit. Like he is a bastard and regularly loses to teenagers, but you can't deny it's quite the resume.

[since-times-long-forgotten]

i’ve been getting into drawing dogs with Colors,,,

[thegoodmorningman]

Good Morning, eh?

[llamaisllama777]

Can I just talk about how dark I realized these episodes are.

I mean, it deals with child murder of course, it's dark, but it just dawned on me how messed this is for everyone involved.

Monty (Monica <- What I call female Monty) has been hiding in the vents during work hours to make sure no kid dies goes missing.

Ballora seems to be dealing with this all in a pretty strange way. She seems almost indifferent to what's happening but also obviously cares.

Puppet has secluded herself in the security office, watching the cams for the past. What three days now?

I don't think it's hit Sun just how bad this is yet. I mean obviously he cares. A multiple kids have gone missing but it feels like the reality of it really hasn't hit me yet.

Vincent, in today's episode, seemed pretty upset about it, too. Those kids died on HIS watch. He probably feels responsible for their deaths. Keep in mind that Vincent has kids, too. So, this probably hits harder for him. Those could have been his kids if events had gone differently.

Eclipse.... honestly, I think he could care less. I really don't know why he's helping. Is it a sense of duty? Is it cause it's technically his job now? Is it cause he harbors some secret resentment to himself for not saving the July 16th kids? Or is it just cause he doesn't want his new place to get all bloody? Or is it the contract Puppet has him in? But for whatever reason, he's here and is being a big help. Thanks, Eclipse.

Most messed up of all....

F.C. saw a kid die in front of him. F.C. is just a kid himself... that... that is messed up. He couldn't do anything to help he just stood there in shock and horror. Powerless to help. That's messed up.

And Monica was in the same room as Evelyn's body. She was right under Foxy and Monica's nose. She was so close to her.... that must have been horrible to realize.

I am really loving this whole arc for EAPS, but DANG! IT IS MESSED UP!

[blueberryrock]

One thing that irks me about PJ's hobbit movies, more specifically how he treats the woodelves, is that he calls them less wise and more feral right?

Bro in the books they were trusted with keeping Gollum as prisoner right? And he escaped on account of they were to kind to him, like fucking hell WDYM LESS WISE MY ASS THEY TREATED GOLLUM SO KINDLY WTF

[lilacsandlillies]

The cognitive dissonance that reading Batman comics right after watching Batman the Animated Series gives me is insane. Those are Not the same people. Like at all.

[n3-x-us]

Made a discovery abt myself

Turns out I like being called Nexus. And I only use he/him. Aint that lovely

Ive also been drawing myself as nexus a lot since im in a collab account as nexus and its gotten to the point that hes also a way i express myself now

[why-the-heck-not]

”having cats is so cozy :3 they’re so cute aww look at her purr aw what a sweetheart”

i’m collecting pieces of a bird into a plastic bag on this fine sunday evening