#try to revive those muses

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

*When asked about Sonic*

Chaos Sonic: Hah. So we're still talking about that blue pitstain? Whatever. He can be fun to toy with, sure, but he's old news. Last year's model. A failure of a friend and a passable hero. Nine wants him alive for "some reason"—that involves his "intense attachment"—so I won't kill him or anything. I'll leave him alone in a room with Nine over my dead body—or my best friend's wishes, since I cannot bear to refuse him. If I could, though, I'd love the chance to "play" with him some, "rough him up" a little as payback for how he treated my best friend.

Alpha Grim Sonic (answering via writing it down, sign language, transmission, whatever because he's mute): You refer to the blue hedgehog. Once upon a time, my master, Nine, seemed to be troubled when thinking of him. There was a time when Sonic brought a fight to our doorstep, but no matter how Sonic may have hurt him in the past, he has chosen to preserve my master's life. Nine seems to trust him, and Sonic has not threatened his life. So, as I do not have the capacity to experience such things as "emotions", and they would not matter even if I did have the ability, I do not mind if my master associates with Sonic the Hedgehog. If Nine is happy, and the hedgehog does not intend harm upon him, then all is well.

ㅤ

*When asked about Shadow*

Chaos Sonic: Oh, he's that black hedgehog, right?! Seems cool! I'd love to race him sometime. Of course, I'll fight him too if he intends to lay a finger on my best buddy, but all is well if he plays nice.

Alpha Grim Sonic (answering not by speaking, because he is mute): Shadow the Hedgehog. You do refer to the black hedgehog, do you not? If he intends to bring harm upon my master again, I will not hesitate in removing him. He has not received forgiveness for trying to kill my master during the war. Nine surely allows him to live because he is gracious, but if he so commanded me to I would rip the hedgehog him limb from limb. It is my duty to do what my master commands, and I will be ready should the hedgehog try anything or should my master finally revoke his trust in him.

[blond3ang3l]

The most loyalest of servants. That is what you and your partner Uruame were to your king Sukuna. Thousands of years the two of you spent by his side. Ruling and causing misery for those deemed below you three. The news of him being sealed away brought pain for you Uruame. But just how did the two meet you?

Sukuna was sat upon his throne, looking utterly bored and grouchy as servants scurry silently around him. He had taken over more and more of the land. Slaughtering anyone who dared defied him, and just because he could. Currently he was being given his sacrifices. All of them the same thing, meat or weapons.

Each and every one of the people cowered in fear before him, knowing he might kill any of them for even breathing too loudly for his liking . That is when you were brought in. Given to him by your village since they feared him. His most loyal servant, Uruame, stood next to him.

Behind you stood your villages leaders. you were they best they had, better than any girl. you were the towns doll, a porcelain doll. Sukuna was disgusted by it. This is what they gave him? Something some frail?

You were standing in front of your village’s leaders as you was lead into the castle of lord Sukuna. You had no idea what to expect since they never explained why you were going.

One of the village elders stepped forward, clearing his throat to get Sukuna's attention. The elder prostrated himself, touching his forehead to the dirty floor with his hands folded in front of him.

“L-Lord Sukuna, we have one last offering for you.”

One of the elders spoke. Sukuna had little to no interest, but lifted an eyebrow expectantly, peering at you with his four eyes. He glances at Uraume, and they speak wordlessly through eye-contact with one another before they turn back to look at you. Sukuna, however, was the first to break the silence.

"So this is your offering?"

“Is he your best?”

Uraume added, looking you up and down while eyeing the village leaders. The leader bowed.

“Y-Yes. The finest the village has to offer in human form. We’ve offered you all we have, please spare us, lord Sukuna.”

Sukuna didn’t look to be entertained in the slightest. He let out an exasperated huff of boredness. The only female elder stood next to you. her expression clearly over her male counterparts.

“He is more than they have led on my lord. he is the spirit of our village. he has the ability of reincarnation, he can reincarnate others. he himself of immortal.”

Those were words that immediately caught Sukuna's attention, he seemed to have a piqued interest in your ability of reincarnation. Sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, trying to decide whether this was truly the ‘best’ the village had to offer.

"Immortal you say?"

Sukuna muses, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lip. He leaned back comfortably against his throne and looked at Uraume to speak.

“It’s true, sire.”

The elder spoke up.

“He is immortal. He has died and revived many times during our time. Our records date back millennia.”

Sukuna seemed impressed, but remained unmoving on the outside. He had a reputation after all, a reputation he worked hard to uphold. One of power and violence. After a moment of thought and staring at you, he spoke once more.

“Prove it.”

The room grew silent. all eyes in the room moved from Lord Sukuna to you. the pressure was immense. the air in the room was tense. the elder looked at you expectantly, looking to you to prove to Sukuna your worth. your leader gave you a nod, urging you to show Lord Sukuna that you were indeed immortal. Uraume's eyes were locked tightly on you, eagerly watching to see what would happen.

You went to turn to face the female elder when you felt her stab a small sword through my heart. You were not expecting of it at all, merely turning to speak with her. You looked down at the weapon sticking through your chest and back.

Uraume, now standing next to Sukuna’s throne was staring speechless at you in utter shock and disbelief. How could you speak with a sword through your heart? how was that possible? how could this be?

“A warning would suffice next time.”

For the first time you spoke up and you acted like it was nothing. Blood dripping from your chest, sword impaled through your chest, and you were worried about a damn warning. You got a chuckle out of Sukuna, a deep chuckle that echoed through the room and bounced off the walls. It was the first time he had ever laughed in the presence of any other being, and it was because of you.

“A warning would have been nice indeed…”

Sukuna muttered in agreement with you. Oh he was going to have some fun with you..

[gingermintpepper]

Day 2: Hyacinthus

Interpretation notes and trivia below the cut!

Designing Hyacinthus as well as deciding on a personality for him was one of the first big problem I had to solve when the topic of a retelling came up. In most texts, he exists to be loved and then to die and even then, the focus of his death is not his own but rather on Apollo, the one who loses him. General modernised interpretations of him likewise tend to make him agreeable and inoffensive, the sort of character who is likeable and upright but never challenging or ornery. I didn't like any of those options, so I instead decided to build my Hyacinthus from the ground up - for better or for worse. His red hair is his most striking feature, it is his mother's divine hair colour and he is the only one of her children to have inherited it. Similarly, Hyacinthus is the only one of his mother's children to inherit her magic. While some of his siblings were born with a few passive gifts from their mother (Argalus' 'perfect' memory and Polyboea's affinity for mental calculations and projections, for example) Hyacinthus was born with a talent for sealing and warding magic and thusly, much of his life has been shaped by the pursuit of knowledge and his wish to use his talents to better his kingdom. Much of his good-nature and zeal for life and learning is destroyed by the circumstances of his death and entombment. When he is revived, he is angry, lost, devoid of most of his memories and desperate to fill the missing gaps of his soul. He's selfish and snappish, hurt and desperate to hurt others but, most importantly, he is searching. When he is revived, all the world has heard his story but he is not apart of it. They do not remember Hyacinthus, the mage-prince of Amyclae or Hyacinthus, the teacher of men. They do not speak of Hyacinthus, who charmed the gods for their knowledge or Hyacinthus whose beauty was bested only by his wit - they speak of Apollo and his lost love, Apollo and his grief, Hyacinthus, the lover of the Radiant. One can only hope that he will find whatever it is he is looking for on this journey.

Some fun trivia:

Youngest son in a family of seven, his magic was the catalyst for Clio revealing her true identity as a Muse to her children.

Actually prefers to be called 'Hyacinth' but has made peace with people ignoring his wishes and just calling him Hyacinthus out of habit or formality.

Has an intense resting bitch face and struggles with visibly expressing happiness or sadness. This is also a trait he shares with his mother, though his older sister Hegesandre also shares this feature. Cynortas was technically a part of the resting bitch face club but he practiced smiling and looking cheery so much as a child that now has the opposite problem where he can smile through anything, even pain or anger.

Left home when he was 10 to study at the Parnassus Institute for Gifted Children. The Institute specialises in training the children of the Muses, but occasionally it will take in normal people who show great promise. Hector, who becomes quite close to Hyacinth during their tenure together, was one of those people.

Was recognised by Apollo himself at his graduation and was gifted a laurel wreath. Apollo declared him the Shepherd Laureate which made Hyacinth the third Laureate alive at that time - a status shared only by Orpheus, the Poet Laureate and Asclepius, the Doctor Laureate.

Despite his title, is atrocious with animals and genuinely despises both sheep and goats. Has a mild phobia of goats in particular due to a traumatic incident when he was first climbing the mountain where a particular wild goat absolutely terrorised him. Along with following him for days, it would eat anything he left unattended and even bit and headbutted him numerous times when he would try to wrestle his food back from it. He was so bothered by the title in fact, that he asked Apollo if the designation was a joke at his expense. Apollo never denied that it was a joke but he never confirmed it either.

Exceptional hunter but prefers trapping to hunting by dog or arrow. Has never been one for weapons and much rather prefers to fight bare handed if the occasion arises.

Despite his laurel wreath being such a precious object, Hyacinth has never properly worn it. He wore them around his left bicep after obtaining them and when Polyboea contracted phthisis and needed comforting, he gave them to her as an object that would give her strength. Polyboea was buried with his laurels so he never got the chance to wear the wreath on his head.

His favourite colour is a dark oak brown and his favourite hobby is reading. His favourite food is fish roasted by a river and shared with people he loves. He died at 28 on the first day of Karneios.

[cuubism]

No worries if the prompt doesn't inspire. I just want it out of my brain:

When Dream is captured, his ruby automatically goes to Hob, who is suddenly in charge of the Dreaming. He has to figure out what he's doing, realize his Stranger is missing/rescue him, and try to get answers on why the Dreaming chose him.

this could absolutely be a 100k epic, which... i just don't have the energy for right now, but here's a potential scene:

--

Hob's been to more than a few castles in his long life. Hob's as old as more than a few castles. He's seen them from afar, and in more prosperous times he's been in them, majestic old forts and comparatively modern palaces bursting with color and finery and legions of staff.

And the thing about castles is they're busy. It takes a lot of staff to run a castle. The only castles Hob's seen that were empty were the ruined ones, fortresses that predated even Hob, were nothing but crumbling remnants by the time he ever set foot inside.

More like tombs, those castles. Relics. Memorials.

The palace he's in now feels more like that.

It hasn't crumbled, still has all its glass intact, its draperies and rugs not yet moth-eaten, the strong pillars of the throne room still reaching up to an infinite sky. It's beautiful, fine stone and intricate carvings, stained glass murals and impossible bridges--but desolate. And quiet. Quiet enough his soft, bare footsteps echo loudly on the flagstones as he walks towards the empty throne at the end of the long room.

It's so empty. He hasn't seen a soul yet. Twilight falls through the stained glass, casting patterns of red and orange at his feet. Winding stairs meander up to the throne, nearly lost in the gloom. Melancholy blooms in his heart, like he knows, through some instinct, that this place should be different. The feeling of standing in ruins of stone and thinking, this was grand, once.

The ruby glows in his palm, pulsing steadily.

Hob slowly ascends the stairs, unsure exactly what he's looking for. Answers? A way to revive this place from its steadily deepening torpor? He just climbs, and he reaches the throne, and runs his hand over the hard cut stone. Imposing, unforgiving, and no trace of its master. The king's gone.

For all his many careers, Hob's never been any sort of king. It's not something one just becomes.

He wanders behind the throne, just below the high stained glass windows. The ruby warm in his palm. When he steps into the shadows, they change, and a new room appears around him. A softer, more enclosed room, for private musings rather than public audiences. A bedroom. The king's bedroom.

Morpheus's bedroom.

Hob startles, grip closing around the ruby. He doesn't know how the name comes to him. Only he holds the ruby, and he feels it.

The room is simpler than he might have expected of a king, almost sparse, as if little time is spent there. The draperies are dark, the bare stone floor cold underfoot, and the massive window looks out over twilit fields and mountains, an entire kingdom below.

Hob almost walks over to it, but his attention is diverted by the robe that lays strewn across the bed, disrupting the otherwise untouched lines of the linens. He picks up the hem of the long, black cloak. The fabric flows like mercury between his fingers for all that it's heavy and thick like a shield. Like a shroud.

Hob gathers it up in his arms, a quiet gasp escaping him. He knows such black clothing. He knows this ruby. Only he hadn't seen it before. Hadn't seen that he was dreaming.

Morpheus. His stranger. A king and he'd never said.

He'd always had that bearing, though, Hob thinks as he twists his hands in the impossibly soft fabric of the coat. He'd never have let Hob in here, especially not after how they'd left things. He'd never have given Hob his ruby, which Hob can now feel isn't just an expensive trinket but actually some sort of powerful object. If they'd even reunited, if his stranger had returned, Hob had expected at best concessionary forgiveness for his bluntness, and possible just sullen silence. Not an invite to his inner sanctum.

A space which his stranger is conspicuously absent from.

Hob doesn't like the feeling of what it adds up to.

He takes the cloak, and the ruby. Lays a hand indulgently on the bedspread, imagining his-- his friend, he'll be determined about it, sleeping there. Not he seems to sleep much, from the look of things.

Then he leaves Morpheus's bedroom be, and goes to see if there's anyone left in this abandoned kingdom who can tell him what's happened to his friend.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

One day I’m going to finish that essay or whatever it was in my drafts that’s about the themes of womanhood/relationships/thirtysomething stuff and TTPD but since part of this discussion has been revived on the dash but also it’s Saturday so this won’t ruffle as many feathers, I think one thing that sometimes gets lost in the shuffle in the conversation about the muses and stories in the lyrics is just why the recurring theme of the broken dreams pops up all over the album, and why they permeate the discussion of both muses, if not *all* the muses in the album.

Not to project things on Taylor, but it feels pretty clear to me* that the dreams she’s talking about specifically are about having a family, and that is the through line in the album, and why the successive blows devastated her. (*I don’t want to presume that anyone else feels this way and this is just my interpretation etc.)

The suburban gothic allegory in Fortnight depicting a miserable, lonely marriage. The ring on the ring finger in TTPD making her explode with joy because it was a shorthand for lifelong commitment. “He saw forever so he smashed it up” in My Boy. “I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free” and dying on the sacrificial altar in So Long London. Marrying her wild boy in But Daddy. “Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge” in Fresh Out the Slammer (as in, she burned her life down). “You shit-talked me under the table talking rings and talking cradles” in loml. “The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling” in How Did It End. “Promises ocean deep and never to keep” in Peter. The allusion in The Manuscript that the man in question made her think he was in it for the potential of a serious commitment only for her to feel used when he moved on. And there are probably more examples I’m not thinking of off the top of my head here.

But what I’m trying to get at delicately is that from what she’s put down in TTPD, as well as what she’s put down in previous albums (“give you my wild, give you my child,” Paper Rings, Lover, renegade, YLM, etc.) building a life and a family with this person (Joe) was not only something she wanted, but seemingly deliberately planning and working towards. So in the death throes of the relationship, her grief was not just about things like losing someone she once loved, the breakdown of this relationship that was once comforting to her, what she gave up to make their life work, etc. but about this important thing she had dreamed of and what she seemed to feel was on the horizon. What I think I’m trying to say is that it had likely shifted at some point (even just based on the album pipeline) from a hypothetical “one day we’ll have ten kids and teach them how to dream” thing you wonder about with a partner to something that felt a lot more… tangible. (Again trying to be sensitive in my word choice/not project or assume things etc.)

I don’t want to make any accusations or assumptions on main, but I think those kind of life plans feeling within reach not only makes it understandable as to why someone would stay in a relationship whose cracks were turning into fault lines, but on the flip side why giving up on something that felt like it was on their doorstep would be so wholly devastating.

But it’s also why what happened in the two successive relationships *was* so devastating in the songs on the album, and why the Matty thing specifically was so twisted. He’d reentered her life and he’d insinuated himself back into her circle and gained her confidence which in turn led her to confide things in him (the “hostile takeovers” of it all, the whole bridge of The Smallest Man with its honey pot spy mission imagery in which like a mark he sweet talked her into sharing her most vulnerable, compromising “secrets” only to then turn it around to use her and ghost her like a trained operative). And given the way the family thing appears in both presumed storylines, it’s again because Muse #2 used the info gleaned about the life with Muse #1 to sell her a con about an alternate path to what she was mourning so deeply. (And why it’s such an unconscionable act because it’s manipulation, at least going by her own words about her experience of it. It’s as cavalier as the organ donor line in The Manuscript, with the same effect.)

The shittalking about rings and cradles is both of them (if not all of them) because in all cases, they ended up raising her hopes only to not plan on following through. One because he maybe couldn’t commit, one because maybe he was never serious about it. (And the one who did it first who was both 🥴.)

If I had to guess (because I am not Taylor so I will obviously never know any of this for sure besides picking up context clues), the dream was like a carrot dangling in her mind, feeling like this is what the “agony” to quote another one of her songs was for — like, things may be hard, but life is hard, and at least they were building towards *something* she felt they both wanted. And as that dream slipped through her fingers, it created a cascading series of events that crippled her emotionally for a time. So when she mourns that life in her songs, it’s almost like it’s the same dream, just in shifting contexts. The conman selling her dream back to her is comforting at first, but hits doubly hard and leaves her broke when it disappears.

The story throughout the muses on the album isn’t “she jumps to the person who promises her these things,” it’s that it’s a whole life she’s built that crumbles under the weight of reality knocking at the door and a foundation that shifts until it disintegrates. And losing that foundation and the dreams built upon it leaves her searching for answers in the wreckage — and looking elsewhere for clarity for a time. And it’s why it’s so hard to remove one muse from the other (or again, all of them), because that central driving force is used by each of them in different ways to build her up and take her down. And why working through the pain of one situation bleeds into that of another.

It’s hard to delve into this more without crossing boundaries or whatever, but it’s just such a palpable open wound in the album, but also why working through the pain in different contexts on TTPD brings to light all these different kinds of hurt but also the emotions that go along with them.

Anyway. That other essay will write itself at some point idk.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

I just finished watching King Kong (2005) and this idea hit me like a truck: Shadow Milk Cookie as King Kong and Y/N Cookie as Ann Darrow!

i have never seen king kong but i sorta understand like... the tiniest bit about it.... So uh, Reader's getting kidnapped for this one as that's pretty much the only thing i know from King Kong.

Requested Prompts #44 - 💓

" White Lily Cookie! Don't! It's a trap!" You try to scream out, but no matter what you say nothing can reach White Lily's ears as she was trapped within your captor's maze. You watched as the flurry of the new guardian's magic went towards the fake tree, reviving it almost instantly to the shock of the eerily real-seeming fake Shadow Milk Cookie. You were the only one to have realized that it was fake, so he'd given the group a question that he knew they'd get wrong no matter what. Thus he'd taken you prisoner back in the 'real' world, one that looked a lot like the world within the Maze of Deceit except the key difference was that there was a lot more goopy, abyssal shadows littered with blue eyes staring at everything. You silence yourself with a yelp as one of the beast's fingers press into your head, because yes he does have actual hands apparently. " Ah ah ah!" You heard him tut, " I don't believe that this play needs any input from the audience, does it now?" Shadow Milk hummed, bringing you up to his face so you could look into his calculating gaze. " Besides, they can't hear you anymore anyways, so why even bother?" You hesitate, he was right and you knew it. You almost instantly deflated, your prior determination to escape filtering out of you like air from a balloon with a hole in it. " Aw, you look so cute when you're all hopeless like that! It's almost making me reconsider your position as prisoner!" He cooed, poking at your face with his claw(not the tip of it though). " I doubt that there's anything worse than being a prisoner to you." You groan, leaning away from his touch. A shriek is pulled from your throat as Shadow Milk grabs onto the sliver tree, or at least what remains of it. He spins around it like those character in musicals sometimes do with poles before hoisting himself up to sit between the branches as if they were a throne. " I' wouldn't be too sure about that~!" He teased, holding you up in front of his face. You doubted that, and it showed on your face. " No offense, but I doubt that there is." You said rather un-enthusiastically. " You really think so?" The beast grinned in an almost wild manner, you got the feeling you said something you really shouldn't have. " Because i can think of a lot of things! Of course, I won't be listing all of them for the sake of our family friendly audience. But there are much worse fates than being a prisoner to me!" " Like... like what?" You asked hesitantly. " Hmm..." He leaned in close, eyes shining brightly as he stared down at you. Some kind of deranged hunger slipping into his expression as he did so. " Like being a little snack." You froze up, the pause between that and his next statement being far too long for your liking. " Oh I'm only joking! There's no need to fret, I don't intend to cannibalize you... yet." You squeaked with fear, leaning away as much as you could as he threw his head back into a maniacal laugh. " Oh you're just so gullible- it's adorable!" He mused, a grin that was still far too wide plastered on his face. " I think I might have to keep you, even if Silly-Lily tries to seal me back up in the tree for real!" Well, at least now you know that unless the others save you you're probably screwed. Yippee.

[lina-lovebug]

Touch

Short fic: other Na'vi think Quaritch fifth finger in unnatural and weird but (Y/N) thinks it's fascinating and he let's her inspect it.

Warning: MAJOR FLUFF

@darthsabe

_

Quaritch stared into the fire before him, wandering exactly who he was. He's seen all the video diaries and heard all about who the real Colonel Quaritch used to be, but was he still him? He became what he has hated. He was now nine feet tall, and one of the Na'vi.

And blue.

"Demon," He heard a whisper from one of the Natives and looked up, seeing them stare at his hands.

Right. His hands. The Na'vi naturally had four fingers, but he had five.

Couldn't quite fully blend in.

"Where do you come from, Miles Quaritch?" The Na'vi girl who saved him, (Y/N), asked while staring at him.

While the rest of his squad ran from the Thanator trying to kill them, Quaritch was lost. He had run the opposite way and had encountered a Na'vi woman fishing for food as he plunged head first into the water. She revived him and brought him back to her village.

"The sky people," He revealed, really not having much to lose other than a son who didn't want him.

"Ah, so it is true. Your people have perfected making us," You were impressed he could have blended in so easily, but the clothing and extra finger and speaking English gave it away.

"Why are you here? Taruk Makto sent you away, did he not?" Jake Sully. God, he couldn't escape him.

"He did, but sky people are greedy. Our planet is dying, and we want Pandora."

"Could you not have come in a more peaceful way?" You were genuinely curious. Your people had only engaged in violence when Taruk Makto had asked you to fight, but since then, your clan steered clear of them. You were travelers, never staying in one place for too long, and you were lucky enough to encounter a sky person this time around.

He chuckled, "If we see something we like, then we take it. Something we just can't seem to learn."

He started to get self conscious about his hands and felt all eyes on them. So hid them away in his pockets, trying not to explode at them.

"Like a baby," You mused, offering him a fruit.

"Nah, I'm good," his stomach grumbling loudly gave him away.

You giggled, "I will not poison you. Besides, all that running works up an appetite."

"How do you avoid those fuckers?" Not paying attention, he grabbed the fruit and started to eat.

"You run," you shrugged, "you can not tame one of them like you do Ikran."

"Hm," was all he said, the juices of the fruit running down his hand, and he wiped it on his pants.

"Disgusting."

"Demon."

His ears folded back, feeling self-conscious, and he dropped the fruit on the floor before getting up and walking away.

"Miles Quaritch, wait!" You got up, following after him but your hand was grabbed by your mother.

"Daughter, he is dangerous," She warned.

"So am I," you tore your hand from her and followed his footprints. He didn't walk fast, so it was easy enough to find him and stop him.

"Miles Quaritch, stop!" You grabbed his hand and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes looked down at your own hands.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Princess, but it seems I'm too different for your people-"

"Can you blame them? They are scared of another outbreak of war, but you. . .you feel different," Something about him just made you feel drawn to him. Your hand still hand onto his own and he pressed your palms together.

"I've done a lot of bad shit (Y/N). Shit I wish I could take it back, but I know who I am, and they know too. I'm not Taruk Makto - I can never fit into a clan or a tribe. Thank you, again, but-"

You grabbed his extra finger, feeling vulnerable, but you didn't care.

"I do not care who you used to be. Eywa brought you here for a reason," and before he could scoff and say anything else, your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I see you," you expressed, "but are you willing to see who you are?"

He was breathless. A Na'vi woman he just met just fucking read him like a book, and he hated it. A Marine shouldn't ever be in such a vulnerable position. . .but would a Marine ever willingly become a Na'vi?

With a chance to change?

His ears folded back and he merely nodded, not knowing what else to say.

You smiled.

"First things first is to get you out of such weird clothing," You began to walk back, hands still intertwined.

"We just met, and you're already trying to take my clothes off," All you did was laugh it off but seeing the physique of this sky person turned Na'vi didn't sound so bad.

[goodolddumbbanana]

TO BE A MIRROR [5]

An Au when Sun is dead (by Nexus), Dark Sun pretends to be Sun while trying to find some way to revive Sun in secret. Nexus's break down, maybe get some redemption. Everyone is not having a good time except Sun, that poor boy only when he is dead (temporarily) can has some rest.

Summary: Immediately after Ruin was recruited, Dark Sun returned to his dimension to clean up Moon's body. This is Dark Sun's POV, so Dark Sun will call himself Sun, because in his heart, he still thinks he is just a Sun.

“…Your boss will see you pretty soon. Say hi to him for me, could you?”

Sun did not stay to watch the show. It wouldn't be wrong to say he had too much work to do, but honestly, he was just so fed up with whatever threats Moo-Nexus would pull for that poor animatronic.

Nexus - That animatronic, from the day he changed his appearance, continuously so desperately trying to prove that he was so different from his ex-version. Sun doesn't need to be a therapist to know where this will go and how much wrong this could go. It would be adorable if it weren't actually so ironic and shameful to watch.

How he dresses. How he acts. And how he is so obbesess with these star power, with the negative star power.

Tall imitated body with lifeless red eyes, a manic creepy voice and an attitude that doesn't care much about others. It made Sun's tongue dry. The feeling of unpleasantness, to be reminded of a familiar face, the cause of so much of the suffering of Sun’s.

Killcode .

Despite the fact that it was Sun's decision to borrow ‘the helping hand’ from someone who had nothing to give, witnessing a Moon walking by, still left a feeling of bitterness in Sun's non-existent stomach.

Hopefully the other Moon will quickly deal with this version of Moon...

Or this Ruin will show Sun something new…

Moon… or Nexus, has become too… ‘creative’ for Dark Sun’s taste.

It would be a huge loss if the Nexus was destroyed at this stage now, but... to be honest, Sun didn't care if that animatronic died.

Of course, these days when Sun has the urge to pull and scrap every string on any Moon he sees have passed, but the hunger and anger that wants to destroy those self-centered ego assholes is still like a smoldering fire that can flare up at any time in Sun's chest.

It can be said these feelings of hatred and anger, are sometimes inconvenient.

—\

Hop in the portal to get in his dimension. His home. The atmosphere was quiet, with the breath of gloomy darkness passing over Sun's shoulder. Only the rattling sound from Dark Sun's bell was like a ray of shock, illuminating the lab at this time.

There's no one there anymore…

In fact, there has been no one left in this place for a long time.

Death took Sun as its messenger, luring Sun a door to freedom.

And honestly, Sun has never regretted accepting that hand.

Heavy patches of dust clung to the railings, condensing like a dirty black mud, dripping with stagnant sounds. Green electric light covers Dark Sun's head like a thin blanket, like a gentle greeting to an expatriate returning to his homeland. The circuit boards blurred the light, the black windings of the electrical tubes steadily ran each volt to the prison, the escape route, the home of Sun and Moon.

Moon's rotten body lay lifeless scattered on the white tile floor, feeling like a mockery.

“Ah, Moon… Ruin really did a number on your body, huh?”

Sun quietly mused. He stepped into the sterile white room and looked at Moon's body, torn apart and broken in the way a child who doesn't know how to play with his toy would do.

Sun doesn't know what to feel, should he be happy that his Moon is dead? Or angry? Anguished? What should a normal person feel when standing next to the body of someone who the term loved and hated is so conflicted to tell?

Sun had killed Moon before, he had killed so many Moons, so many that he couldn't count them all before he fell into the fatigue of a habit that had grown old.

Sun shouldn't have felt anything, but looking at the layer of black oil spreading on the floor, the emptiness had been screaming since the day Sun made the 'decision' to cut off the connection between them, once again vibrating.

There was a tearful calm that slowly spread in his soul, spare with an annoying feeling when he saw his belongings being touched by others.

A cold, bitter taste filled Sun's mouth, like a red shadow falling on the top of his head.

Sun felt heavy, but didn't know where that heaviness came from.

The empty moon-shaped metal face stared back at him, the red light that once flashed with fear and hatred now faded, returning to a lifeless piece of glass.

Stretching out his hand to pick up Moon's face, the thought briefly appeared in Sun's mind, whether he should rebuild his Moon again, before realizing that his hand was shaking slightly.

The gold-plated metal joints, wrapped in bells and red ribbons, seemed to encounter some error that his sensors did not recognize, twitching endlessly.

Moon was dead, and he should have been happy, or relieved, but in this prison that suddenly became too stuffy, he doesn’t know why he didn't feel satisfied with that.

What is wrong?

Moon was no longer Moon since a long time ago, from the day Sun touched the source code behind his brother's head.

His intelligence was completely destroyed, just a broken machine that kept repeating empty pleas, probably because the influence of the personality chip was still intact.

Sun wondered what took him so long to kill Moon.

It's because of the remaining love, one thing makes him feel so nostalgic about the old days, about the wish that how they could have been better?

Or is it simply hatred, a petty revenge for the fact that Moon always wished to have a body of his own; always enjoy making Sun's life hell?

That if hell is Sun's path to go, then at least his brother should be in the first row?

“I don't understand why I can't clean you up like all the other useless trash, Moon. Even though my old program is screaming at me to do it.”

Choosing a comfortable position to sit down, Sun leaned his back against the wall. Black oil and soot clung to his pants, and the air had an unpleasant smell of moldy motor oil dust.

It felt like the old days came back, about these days of struggling in the bunker, about how instead of motor oil clinging to his hands now, there was the blood of innocent lives.

“It's pointless to talk to you, because animatronics don't have souls, so I can't say you are haunting me.”

If Sun believed in ghosts more, or Sun's hallucinations hated him more, perhaps the person who was silently looking at him in the reflective surface at this time would scream and curse at him, trying to make him feel guilt and pain. But no… they never did that.

Just looks, these red, yellow, brown eyes, staring at him with silence... Of breathing and the feeling of someone standing behind Sun’s back. It was almost comforting, a feeling of someone's companionship, of ghostly guilt rippling waves in Sun's parched heart, before being forced into the eternal void of non-existence.

“Is that the sentimentality of the elderly, Moon?”‌ Sun chuckled, stroking tenderly the sharp edges of the face plate. “Or in this case, animatronic?”

There was only the gentle sound of metal colliding in a space that had never been able to fully breathe for Sun.

Sighing softly, Sun stood up. Moon's face was still held in his palm before it fell coldly to the ground, making a harsh noise.

It shouldn't have startled Sun, but when looking at the rubble called the corpse of someone not worthy of love, Sun's body twitched again.

In the blink of an eye, it was as if he could hear Moon's angry scream, and his sobbing apology from the past.

Maybe he should come another day to clean up, it's not like Ruin could find anything in these broken things anyways...

Opening the teleportation gate, Sun walked through. But instead of Sun's gloomy tower, there was a warm room with another yellow animatronic sitting and playing games.

Another version of him, a Sun, was so startled that they stiffened when looking at him. That yellow animatronic body almost screamed reflexively, before holding back and relaxing forcibly.

Silver eyes contrasted with Sun's red pupils, looking at him alert.

"You…"

“Ah… Me.” Sun smiled lifelessly. He doesn't know why he could have made such a mistake like misplacing the direction, but the feeling of not breathing clearly in Sun's chest suddenly stopped, causing the steps he was about to disappear to suddenly become hesitant. 

The other person sat nervously on the sofa, the loud noise made the cat in their lap jump out.

“Why are you here?!”

The voice was still mixed with a bit of stammering and worry, but mostly it was fatigue, the feeling of exhaustion deep in their bones that Sun himself was all too familiar with, something that always existed there every time he woke up.

“And what happened to your clothes?! You look like you just fell into a garbage pit and fought a bear but lost!"

“Oh nothing much, Sun. Kill a guy, destroy a dimension. Whatever you want me to say.” Sun shrugged, he leaned down on the couch, letting the greasy layer of oil seep into the expensive lotus fabric bought with Moon's money.

“Eh—” An awkward atmosphere surrounded the other person. Their hands were constantly intertwined, half awkwardly as if wanting to stand up and call their Moon, half indifferently placed in the void.

It feels like the other version of Sun had something to say but didn't. And the movement kept repeating as if stuck in a loop, until the 5th time when that bell rang in Sun's ear, it started to make Sun open his mouth.

“Do you have anything you want to say?”

That nervous anxiety had rarely bothered Sun so severely these days since he had killed most of his universe's enemies. But it seems that for the other person, it is still a burden.

“Er–Ah— There's something strange about you today…”

“How so?”

Sun raised his eyebrows in confusion, his hand raised, vaguely stained in oil and soot. He feels fine, nothing wrong. 

Actually, he feels better than ever. 

The concern looks slowly crawling in their other eyes. It makes Sun want to get out, it feels like some of his heart was exposed. A funny thought suddenly came from nowhere, causing him to approach the other person in a suspicious way.

“Hey, Sun~~~”

“W–What?! Wait— What’re you want to do!!?”

The other person looked so scared that he backed away unconsciously. Sun almost felt guilty for making his other self look so tense, before realizing ah, he wasn't actually giving a flying fuck.

Pop!

Sun's dirty, slimy hands pressed and applied forcefully to his clean version's shoulder. The other person's face was blank for a moment before hardening into an expression of disgust mixed with indignation, when they themselves realized something sticky was running down their shoulder.

“Uh!!!!! Wh–Why did you do that??!!”

Because it's fun? Because you deserve it? Because you dare to show concern for me when in fact you can't even take care of yourself? Because even though your Moon is still alive and kicking, I don’t hate the rest of your family this much?

Because in reality I'm jealous of the closeness you have and I'm also desperate to get some warmth from someone else?

There were many answers that Sun couldn't give, so he just stood up suddenly, opened a gate and jumped in, leaving behind confused curses from another him.

“What just happened???”

[bored-trans-orchidsexual]

Last Stand Musing

Spoilers FHJY, as of Episode 15 So, I was thinking about the last stand mechanically. I wasn't trying to but I can't help but think 'that's it?' Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it is, especially with the revelation there will be *no* reviving thanks to Kipperlilly. But I can't help but think that, for a *final battle where everyone is meant to die* the bad kids kinda got off easy. First of all, it was strongly implied that they had to fight off endless waves of monsters, and the only way they could be the ones to *beat* the last stand, was to keep killing until there were no monsters left to spawn, I believe it's an artifice augefort that implies this with a wink. But in the actual fight a new wave was incoming, they were *gonna* have to fight more, but the proctor called it off, because they aced the questions. I *understand* the only reason they aced the monsters was because of this exact crew, tactics chosen, and luck. Fabian blowing over half his resorces to kill a Hyrda *before it can act* was clutch, that shuffle cast was clutch, Gorgug time quangling out all the crits he hadn't been getting in the previous seasons was clutch, ect. But learning that, if you answer all the questions the test *stops spawning*, I can't help but wonder how no one, in the history of Augefort, has managed to clear it before now. Then I thought more about it. About how, part of Arther's point, is that students *Accept* the last stand nature of it, not rebel, taing the premise that they must die on the chin and giving it the best fight they can. Does this imply the other students who have previously taken this test just... ignored the test questions? Maybe only half-assed them, with the goal of going out in a big blaze of glory? Seems a bit unlikely, but maybe so. The bad kids are *powerful* but are also Juniors, surely more *Seniors* take this test than not, would not the seniors on average be of similar or even higher power? Why would this all happen, so that they are the *first?* Then I thought about it even more. This is for people who have no other choice, the *desperate*. The flops, the failures, those who are not succeeding by other means. That's when the cruelty of it all really kicked in, and Augefort's words felt even more hostile. This isn't a challenge where the cream of the crop do thier best and top the charts, this is for the *lowest of the low* to try and do thier best, to salvage a win from nothing. So hard, so cruel, and on top of it all Arther regards those who tried it and failed to just not have 'gotten what he was going for.' What a fuckin' asshole. The deck was stacked in the bad kid's favor as *exceptionally* powerful kids, who are failing as a result of shenanigans, not poor performance. This, the hardest exam and the deadliest the school offers, is only thrust at those who are already behind, what a joke.

[shiningstages]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

have a diantha icon edited by the lovely serin a million years ago diantha you'll be revived properly one day i swear to christ -

what’s your OTP for your muse(s)?

me cracking my knuckles as i look over my whole muse list + diantha.

diantha is easiest because its just captain/diantha and clarisse/diantha (this ship can work flipflopped too but like someone see the vision please understand LOOK AT THOSE GIRLS!!!!!!!)

ratio and screwllum next easiest b/c those two have not left my mind since they were introduced at their respective times and they should hold hands (ofc i like aventio too, but screwtio is my ride or die and also don't sleep on screwtioturine think about it pls i beg). i actually ship both of them very leniently (if that makes sense?), because i'm a multishipper and i love people holding hands, but these are very much the otps (special shoutout to argentio and screwllum/herta and screwllum/gepard though; those are also cute and the last one is the latest collected bestie rarepair and we thrive on it)

looking at my other muses...LanVane, nods nods. BeaZeta, BronSeele (hi3rd and hsr; though multishipping seele in both contexts is also really fun, and in hsr seele/silver wolf angst or hsr seele/gepard and hsr seele with any of the main express friend trio...nods nods). March 7th you can ship any person under the sun in hsr with her, but my favs are caelus or stelle, dan heng, and robin. stelle gets protag rights, but ofc exploring my fav men through her would be fun. yu takasaki with anyone in the club because also protag/past self insert origins rights, but setsuna, ayumu, and shizuku hold special places. kotohonoumi with kotonozo and kotori/minato (p3) honorable mentions. eiden/blade will always be my fav in nu carnival, but shoutout to edmond and yakumo as well. i do like tsukasa/wxs it's true (yes all of them each dynamic is cute), but i think tsukasa/shizuku or tsukasa/haruka has legs to stand on as well (hard working people with personality differences but very determined when striving towards their goals; shizuku has the added benefit of older sibling talks). though i also ship haruka/minori, and minori/kohane. nice nature/tokai teio is a classic to me.

me trying to think otp-wise for other muses...shrugs~

what are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

i love a good domestic fluff, or writing about a couple just being affectionate or just going through slice of life together. also very much into writing out the scenes of my muses in love and flustered but not really knowing what to do in situations when they haven't quite confessed yet. drama is also yummy; love a kind of hurt/comfort working through issues or things that come up type thing too (and the varying degrees of success or failure in that department). since i've started writing more Stuff too, i'd be willing to write out...just a tiny bit of teehee~

how large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

me staring at screwllum, the oldest man alive...he's an exception because he's ancient.

for muses that are teens in canon (and in verses where they're teens, as in versus them in other verses as adults and stuff) it has to be pretty close in ages. but once we're past like 22 i'd say the world is our oyster.

are you selective when shipping?

not really, though on here i guess i don't seek it out as often because i'm not on here as often anymore! i'm a big fan of chemistry and usually only rping with friends anyways though, so we have to be cool with each other and think our lil dolls mesh well together before we can go and pursue more in a shipping on here sense.

how far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

i haven't written any of the teehee on here yet, but i'd say when it get's steamy is like...more than kissing. when you're describing grinding and kisses going places that are obviously to get a rise out of the other muse, or when clothes are being touched or played with or tightening in ways...then the nsfw tag and the read more are implemented. if it's just kisses though, they get steamy but not too much so.

does one have to ask to ship with you?

yes absolutely!! i love communication, and if you think our muses mesh well together like that, please reach out about that and don't just assume~ though also i only really rp with friends so i only talk about it really with friends i've talked about it with numerous times before (waves at wars and serin and j even though you're not really here anymore). but still reach out if we ever rp for a bit and you have ideas~

how often do you like to ship?

:))))))) i can become a lil fiend devil if you wanna

aventio and screwtio have made me particularily feel some sort of way that makes me go even more insane than my love live shipping days, and that says a lot.

in terms of actual writing shipping, i feel like i think about it constantly but also not at all fghfgjhfgjhf discord servers have been my breeding ground for rarepairs and more talks though (surprise it's just two mainly hsr servers wow can you tell i like this game and the friends that invited me to these servers omg hi toria and rei and jules if you somehow find this)

are you multiship?

(points to literally every other answer) oh yes. yesyesyesyesyes.

are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

hmmmmmmmmmm i think both. on one hand in general ships can just consume me, but on the other hand i like varied levels of writing (though also platonic shipping too let's not forget her...i love her too.)

what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

screwtio / screwtioturine. aventio and ratioturine (i'm putting both because ppl can be really picky about name stuffs) are also very good yummy stuffs, but mushing my two men together and then adding aventurine into the mix.............yeah it's good stuff

finally, how does one ship with you?

(points to many points in this post) write with me, be niceies to me, and if you have ideas after we've gotten to know each other for a bit lemme know~

tagged by: @toestalucia warsssssssss thank you for unlocking my third eye and enabling me i love my bestie so much everyone aaaaaa tagging: teehee lmao~ @nokrysalis for crystal but also any of your other ocs or any canon muses you wanna yap about!!!!!!!!!

[archer-kacey]

Joey Drew is Gay and there's no way around it (Pt 1)

I want to immediately preface this by saying I never want to assume that a character is gay, straight, bi, etc. Usually the creator will confirm this type of thing, or it will end up being confirmed or implied later down the line. Joey, however, has something unique in comparison to the rest of the cast- we have his autobiography. This paired with information found in the games themselves and additional novels already give us a pretty big library of information to draw from. We have most of his life story given to us on a silver platter, and in my opinion, the non-heteronormativity speaks for itself.

Let's start with Dark Revival, because it's an easy starting point to offshoot from.

Memory Joey tells Audrey this: for Joey Drew, a family was something he always wanted, but could never have. For most people, this probably translates as Joey being too absorbed in his work, himself, and the studio to raise a family. While Joey did have a big ego and undoubtedly had his hands full, I struggle to believe that this would prevent him outright from even trying.

First off, if Joey's end goal was "a family," then there are a million questions that immediately come up. What kind of "family" was Joey striving for? Dark Revival seems to at least confirm that he wanted a child of his own, and to be fair, solely having Audrey seemed to complete him.

When Joey was alive, there were some pretty easy ways to accomplish having a family. One would be the heterosexual route, marrying a woman and having a child, and arguably this would be the easiest. He could have also adopted, especially if he was Ace, or if there was a possibility he was just an infertile man.

Here's the thing, though- he didn't do either of those.

Now, I fully understand that if Joey were a mouse stuck in a maze, he would take the longest possible route to get to the cheese. He's a bit stubborn and childish, and developed his god complex faster than a Polaroid camera photo. BUT, his two brain cells kick in whenever there's something he truly wants.

Joey doesn't operate on brute force. He outsources absolutely everything. He'll wrap up an entire web of people into doing his dirty work, but he himself wants to take the path of least resistance. So, when dealing with a personal matter that can be very easily tended to...why the hell ignore the entire thing? Having a kid would have worked pretty smoothly with his self-interests.

The way Joey goes about actually "having" kids is very strange. Firstly, there's Bendy, born via Ink Machine. Secondly, there's Audrey, also born via Ink Machine.

Hey Joey, quick question...why are all your kids birthed via giant metal box?

Oh, I'm not kidding about Bendy being Joey's child, either.

In Illusion of Living, Joey states that he views Bendy as his son, and this is specified to not be a hyperbolic statement. Nathan also volunteers the information that Joey felt the same way about Bendy as he did about his own son (Nathan Jr.) Joey also describes Bendy as his muse and his messenger. Joey's philosophy, The Illusion of Living, is the belief that fiction and reality are the same thing, which feeds into a heavy insistence that Bendy is real, and he scoffs at the idea that people would dare think he isn't.

Illusion of Living was released in 1942. So, starting in at least 1942 (though I suspect earlier,) Joey was very protective of the image of this character, and convinced himself that this creation was his own son.

In short, he was already attempting to fill a childless void with a fictional substitute.

However, the sad fact is that Bendy was ultimately a filler child that still couldn't satisfy him. But when Audrey came into being, that was it. Joey wanted a human child, and Audrey was the closest thing to that, hence why she was his last attempt. So he settled down and raised her until his passing.

But we’re not done talking about Bendy yet. Joey's intense connection to Bendy has far-reaching implications.

PART 2>>

[mellorphic]

The fact that, for crime boys, L’Manberg is completely and wholly a representation of the other.

For Wilbur, it’s Tommy - he named it, he’s the heart of it. The muse, and everything Wilbur ever did to protect L’Manberg was about Tommy. In Pogtopia he lost L’Manberg and he was losing Tommy, too. He blew up L’Manberg and killed himself and he wouldn’t apologise because he didn’t think Tommy would forgive him for doing that because Tommy was L’Manberg and the two were interchangeable. He tried to pretend he didn’t care about L’Manberg after his revival because it would hurt too much to admit it was gone. He tried to pretend he didn’t care about Tommy because it would hurt too much to admit he wasn’t the same was when Wilbur knew him.

For Tommy, it’s Wilbur - tommy helped found it for Wilbur. Through the entire beginning it was him following Wilbur and wanting Wilbur to be happy, and everytime he thought for L’Manberg he was fighting for Wilbur, and post-Nov-16th he continued to fight in Wil’s memory because it was all he had left of Wilbur. In Pogtopia he was fighting for L’Manberg back to try and get Wilbur back, because Wilbur was L’Manberg and the two were interchangeable. He tried to pretend he didn’t care about L’Manberg in exile because it would hurt too much to admit he couldn’t go back, he was trying to pretend Wilbur’s death wasn’t affecting him because it would hurt too much to admit he was gone.

The other L’Manbergians are important people in both Tommy and Wilbur’s lives - for Wilbur, Fundy and Niki are his son and best friend. For Tommy, Jack and Tubbo are his best friends and sworn enemies. And as much as those people are so important in tommy and Wil’s lives they aren’t at the centre of what L’Manberg means.

For all of them, it’s about friendship and freedom and community. But for Tommy, it’s also Wilbur. And for Wilbur, it’s Tommy.

And for both of them, that means home.

[mercless]

the powder witch contemplates: ' y'ever wonder what it's like to die ? or maybe you know already , since you're so old and got whole libraries in your head . there's gotta've been stories of people like him , right ? died and came back ? they ever say what it's like ? ' a pause , quieter . ' must've not been so nice . if it had been , he'd talk more about it , right ? ' ' do demons like you even die ? sure go down , but — ' a wave of her hand , features pulling into grimace as she begins to regret having raised the topic to begin with . ' ... you know what i mean . ' @windchaser

Weary eyes watching that wavering horizon don't bother turning to the powder witch and her steed walking beside them. Her habit of musing any and everything on her mind was still taking the hellspawn some getting used to. But the deal that hung above them like a glinting blade on a sliver of thread - to be a guide and source of information to these fine folk looking to stop the inevitable - was one hell of a motivator to become quickly accustomed to this prolonged company. It isn't until Rell's words settle around them both, and the possibility they don't even grace her with a response arises, that Talon heaves a breath past their teeth. A tongue close behind the air brushes over the rows, attempting to dislodge that feather stuck in the back to little avail as their otherwise soundless march continues.

"'Libraries'… Bit of an exaggeration. I don't go lookin' for every poor souls story." An encyclopedia of tall tales, misquoted passages, and drunken ramblings felt more fitting a description for their collected knowledge. In their unbias, reliable opinion. "He's not the first gunslinger to ever return to the land of the living. Although, he's far from a revival like her intervention was..." A cough catches in their throat, but it's not long before their dry droll continues over the related tale. She could ask another time, if curiosity lingered.

"Death's been unreliable for a while now, but it wasn't ever the same for everyone either. I've seen it often enough to know what generally takes place." They decide to not state the obvious how, a small attempt to preserve the witch's current mood. Why would they care about such a thing… "When the souls left it's body, there's no more fear. No more joy or curiosity, no hunger for more. No more mortal woes."

"… Then there are those who don't go so quietly. Ghosts, cursed souls, those who've had their fate tampered with…"

A glance at the undead gunslinger bringing up the rear of their merry band is made over Talon's shoulder, giving away that the discussion was about him. It wouldn't be a surprise to Yone, though; when the young witch ever approached the demon, he was always in earshot. A hand ghosting a holster or sheath. "Our companion isn't one for many words, whether they be for recounting wonderous events, or hellish memories." A cant of their head lifts the wide brim of their hat enough for the two of them to meet the other's eye, if either of them wishes. The sun had fallen enough to not blind Talon, hiding behind the plated hindquarters of the metal beast keeping pace with them. There were plentiful reason for her to be on this doomed quest. They would like it to be revenge, but a nagging feeling of it not lasting as the sole reason dampens any potential fun. Something weak in their chest bemoans her to not give time to the thoughts of the beyond. But then, with everything so decayed around them, whatever else was there for a troubled mind to dwell on? "He has a reason for not movin' on. Maybe even he don't know it exactly. Could even change to something else he finds an' takes ahold of. Nothings gonna be gained if the truth is wrung out of him."

Blunt fingers scratch at the red scarf laid across their chest, trying to displace the sprouting growth tangling in the fabric's folds. Scraping the barrel on their knowledge of the beyond, and their half-baked hunches on the gunslinger, left only her last, uncomfortable question. A flash of teeth at the word 'down' was accidental, but the irony found in it pulled at blackened gums. Silently they wonder when they would see those caverns of endless torment and fire again, but it was something they could never share with a soul like hers. It's enough of an awakening from their ramblings to recall what their nature is. What they are. "Demons like me, don't go around kicking buckets." Talon's hunched posture straightens then, head turning over their shoulder as they speak clearly for everyone in the small posse.

"I'm sure you're both eager to find out what does happen, though."

[morocosmos]

Writer Interview Game

Tagged by @arcaneoddity, tyyyy 💜

When did you start writing?

I noodled at an unfinished story or two when i was a kid (i drew comics a lot more tbh), the first fanfic i wrote was when i was 13 (it is consigned to ff.net, never to be perceived again). i started developing my writing during secondary school, we had to for english class but i genuinely enjoyed those assignments so much that it didn't feel like schoolwork lmao, it was smth of an outlet. i did write a couple of fics for other fandoms between 2016 and mid 2020, but in late 2020 FFXIV revived my desire to create, while @stellarfatalism and @lemoncakedesign's fics inspired me to actually start writing.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read a much wider variety of smut than what i could be convinced to write. other than that i think they mostly overlap.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

@haillenarte, @rabbitprint and @sezja's fics have stuck with me the most in terms of "god i want to be able to write characters like this"....i've never been compared to another writer before, never even considered it and idk how i'd feel.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I was writing on openoffice at first, but their software has a tendency to crash when you press two keys too fast, for example when you. try to save your work. moved to gdocs to avoid that and so that i could continue working on fic on my phone, but i also use the notes app on there, mainly to get down ideas that i don't want running away or to write more freely. it's easier to be experimental and loose when i'm writing in notes, idk, whereas i prefer sitting at the desk and working on my computer when it's a longer fic or a more """important""" piece.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I've let it happen when it happens, for the most part. i was forcing myself to power through job around the time i really grew into writing, so i needed it to be a space where i wouldn't do it if i didn't want to. my feelings about that are more mixed now, because i'm a slow writer to begin with, and i can't help but wonder if more people would read my stuff if i updated more consistently. but i digress - the only time i've had to bring the muse in myself was for to sail your seas, and that was because there was accountability and a deadline. so i guess my most effective tricks are ADHD hacks and brainworms.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Until recently i didn't approach fic writing with themes in mind, when i get an idea it's usually about throwing a character at something and seeing what happens. that something tends to be another character, sometimes it's more existential like touch starvation. that said, i do have a WIP where i sat down and thought about what i want the themes to be before i know how it's going to pan out, but it's baby's first attempt so i don't have an answer to this question yet, really.

What is your reason for writing?

Processing things i know and exploring things i don't. when i got back into writing in 2020 it was extremely cathartic, i've burnt out on several creative pursuits over the years and having that spark come alive was, and is still very precious to me. i spent two years writing simply because i had ideas and a vice-grip compulsion to write them out. now that that's slowed down, i've started to think more about craft, and how i might try to hone that when i'm lowkey afraid of this stage of learning, and there's no formal institution to kick my ass into it. but in some ways, i think i write because i can't afford not to.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I've been told by a friend that i'm good at continuity, which is nice considering it lines up with the obsessive approach i take towards trying to tie plot/character threads together lol. personally, i still consider descriptive writing to be my greatest strength. it's what i keep going back to, maybe because it was the first thing i discovered i was good at that wasn't influenced by someone else's decision.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I miss the honeymoon period when i thought my writing was the hottest shit LOL. that tapered off towards the end of 2022, but it's not like i think my writing is bad now, just that over time i became more aware of my shortcomings, and how much knowledge and experience i lack. i did have to fight a little to keep my relationship with writing from souring last year, but in hindsight it was more about frustration that i didn't have the energy to write (work burnout wooo) than a problem with writing itself. after a year plus of stalling and big fic projects i just want to have fun again, be a bit silly.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

HAPPY 11th ANNIVERSARY TO THE BECILE BOTS!!

To celebrate, I've made free, downloadable stickers!

This folder contains Transparent PNGs of all the individual stickers and the sheet sans the cut lines as well as their PSD files with the cut lines and bleed allowance in place. The PNGs were all saved with CYMK color palettes so those previews are more likely to reflect what the printed copies will look like.

They should be ready to print as-is! If you put one of these somewhere, I would love to see photos!

-

This is the part where I get really sappy, but I'll try to keep it short. I, Muse, wasn't an active participant in the SPG fandom until the Becile Bots came into play. The excitement that sprung up around this little subfandom was infectious, and I made my main tumblr blog for the express purpose of joining in. Soon I was writing (angsty) fanfiction and getting more familiar with digital art. SPG and the fandom here on Tumblr changed the course of my life, and I may never have made the plunge if not for these ne'er-do-wells.

I'd like to thank Surge, the original creator of the AU. Wherever you are, I hope you are well. And I'd like to thank Riley, the previous caretaker of the AU who passed it generously onto me back in 2019. Getting to revive this askblog, fill it out and polish it up, and as we head into the final acts, hopefully send the Becile Bots off in style and in love-- it is a gift I will always treasure.

And I'd like to thank you and all our followers, past and present. I look forward to each and every one of your likes and reblog tags, all of the fan work you share, and the asks that brighten my day and keep me energized to keep pushing forward.

Let's celebrate! 🎉

[uravityxo]

𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙉𝙎 ; important !!!

heyhey friends !! just dropping by to say a few things, a little update for all of you about my plans with this blog and some other ideas/blogs i wanna do !! so here is a lil list of my plans,, please read if you have the time just so you're aware !! i'll hide below cut as there's quite a bit to share !!

✩ ⸺ i am going to prioritise replies that i'm feeling the most at the time. this does not mean i won't reply to yours. i will get around to it at some point. but i've recently realised i found it easier to get back into writing and to write what im feeling over "what needs replies first" !! don't worry !! i will get to it- however if you think i missed a reply or something.. please message me and let me know !!

✩ ⸺ thread tracker has just been set up, however i'm still getting the hang of it and adding everything/figuring it out !! however i fully intend to try keep this constantly updated !! i'll slowly start getting to it though, so if there's a thread you want me to add to it- let me know and i'll add it on sooner rather than later !!

✩ ⸺ inbox and asks !! i have so many sitting in there and i promise i will get to them, but another thing im focusing on is current threads and getting the replies and starters i owe out first !! and then i'll eventually get around to my inbox !! im sorry for such a long delay with inbox stuff... i really do apologise for it taking a long time.

✩ ⸺ denki kaminari blog is actually going to be revived (for real this time), i have many plans for him and i'm super excited to finally get to writing him again. however it will either be low activity or inactive until i get replies on this blog under control !! if you want to follow the blog, let me know and i'll send it your way/follow you from there !!

✩ ⸺ multimuse and oc blog is also under the works, at first i was considering having a multimuse oc blog AND a multimuse canon blog however i feel that'd be TOO much to handle. so i'm going to combine the two blogs together. this will most likely always be low activity for whenever i'm feeling a certain muse !! ochako and denki are my main muses! which is why they're going to have their own blogs !!

✩ ⸺ headcanons and stuff , im considering starting to write headcanons and drabbles (is that what they're called?) !! just for when im not vibing with any replies and still want to let out some creativity !! so expect to see those more <33

thank you for giving this a lil read my friends !! i will reblog later for people who aren't online rn !! but yea... i thought i'd share all this stuff for people just so you all know whats going on 🩷🪱