#ty for the ask this was a lot of fun <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tes-trash-blog]

Asking you 2, 5, and 6 on the TES OC ask game! ✨

2.) What is your OC’s birthsign? Does it affect the way they live their life?

Under the modern zodiac, Imerae was born under the Lover; the Falmeri zodiac was a little more complicated, but the long and short is that she was born under Syrabane's charge. Those under the Hand of Grace were said to have a certain, undying compassion, be selfless without being self-sacrificing, and be deep, emphatic lovers.

This may have been true for her as a child, as she was something of a blabber mouth and a crybaby, but the war changed her. Still, some glimpses of Syrabane's divine empathy occasionally falls through the cracks. And she did love. Gods, did she love.

5.)What is your OC's first language? Do they know any others?

Her first language is, naturally, Falmeris. She picked up some Ayleidoon in her brief interactions with ambassadors, and can make out some Dwemeri writing, but she has a very hard time speaking Dwemeris coherently. She'd never admit it, but she knows more Atmoran than Ayleidoon and Dwemeris combined.

She slowly picks up Imperial Common in the 4th Era, but never fully grasps some of the idioms. Of Dovahzul, perhaps the less said, the better. No really.

6.) Does your OC have any formal education? Via what organization, if so?

Most of Imerae's education came from the Falmeri Soldiery, and training only lasted a few years. She only truly became literate after the Miracle of Auransel, during her months-long recovery. It wasn't structured, but she made the most of it once she regained her eyesight. She even wrote in this time, but no writings survive.

In the 4th Era, Imerae becomes an honorary instructor at the College of Winterhold. This is partly an effort to make reparations, partly because she does have valuable knowledge to impart regarding Falmeri society, language, and magic, and partly because the College be damned if those hoity toity fuckheads at the Mage's Guild get first dibs on an on-god Snow Elf.

[divergent-paths]

welp! this ask couldn't have come in at a better time, as we're within a few pages of alex sharing more opinions on things, so i'll use this chance to give a bit of insight to culture at aurora~

max's young age of 14 means he's not mature enough to read between the lines like an older teen or adult would, and despite many trainers starting at 10, this adventure in galar is max's first foray into the wider world -- he's pretty naïve and has a lot of growing to do, so his opinion is definitely going to change, but for now, he's happy getting to be the boss of his own team.

i'll leave it up to the reader to decide how popular the two are... :')

[necrotic-nephilim]

I love the new ask game :D

Maybe "You wouldn't." with Bruce/Jason?

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

tysm anon, i'm glad you're loving it! i love that this got requested twice because it was such a fun one. warning that this one is *dark*, it deals with hypnotism/brainwashing and non-con as a result of that. it's *sort of* inspired by Gotham War but is based in pre-Flashpoint and basically my twist on a realistic but fucked up way i think Bruce would try to control Jason psychologically. just 3.3k of Jason suffering. enjoy <3

“Come home, Jason.”

It was a dream Jason had had a thousand times in a thousand ways. Bruce’s hand outstretched, offering Jason a white flag and compassion.

Only this time, it wasn’t a dream.

The cold ground underneath Jason’s palm was real. He could smell the dirt caked under his fingernails as he clenched his fist, panting hard.

He had a gun pointed at Bruce with his other hand. Jason was knocked to the ground, but he wasn’t down.

He was never down; a mutt going belly up. That’d never be him.

For some reason that Jason couldn’t put into words, the gun was shaking in his hand. He never had it in him to actually kill Bruce. But somehow now, his resolve felt more shattered than usual.

“Your home isn’t mine,” Jason said through grit teeth. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, but the fight was already muddled in his head. Was it one of the goons he was fighting or Bruce who’d hit him? He wasn’t sure.

Bruce loomed over Jason. It was a look he practically had patented. Cape billowing, shadow cast over Jason in such a way that Jason felt so impossibly small. He knew all the tricks and how Bruce pulled them off, but that didn’t mean he was immune to them. No matter how much Jason grew and made a name for himself, Bruce could always make him want to shrink into himself.

But he wouldn’t. He refused to hand that weakness over to Bruce.

“It always has been your home,” Bruce’s voice was far too gentle for his immovable stance and shadow-hidden face. Jason didn’t like the contrast. “Just for the night.” He took a step toward Jason, hand close enough for Jason to bat it away with his gun.

He knew this dance. Like a song that Jason had never actually heard, but still seemed to be woven into his soul. A long-forgotten melody as he descended into this hell. Bruce was reaching into Jason’s mind to pull out all of Jason’s worst nightmares about how he rolled over like a dog and gave in.

It made Jason’s lip curl in disgust, even as cold ice dripped down his spine.

“Go to hell,” Jason snarled. He didn’t sound how he wanted to. His voice was too high and it was like he was Robin again, pre-pubescent and looking at Bruce like he hung the moon. That moon was bleeding all over them, now. “I will shoot you if you don’t back off,” he warned. Not lethally, they both knew that unspoken caveat. But that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t acutely aware of every weak point of Bruce’s armor and very ready to give Bruce a new scar for his misplaced nostalgia-tainted love.

“No, you won’t,” Bruce said calmly. Not as an order, but as a simple fact.

Jason scoffed. “Like hell-”

Bruce whistled, a sharp and high note that made Jason’s brain nearly split in half.

And he-

He dropped his gun.

It tumbled out of his hand with his palm forced open. A muscle reaction that felt the same as a doctor knocking a hammer against Jason’s knee to make his leg kick out. So out of control that he just stared at his open, empty hand for a moment.

“What the fuck?” Jason spat out, blinking a few times. “Was that an EMP or something?” He hadn’t been looking at Bruce’s face. It sounded like a whistle, but Bruce could’ve activated some high-tech weapon through his gauntlet or-

Or something. Some sort of Bat-gadget that used a magnet to pull the gun out of Jason’s hand, or whatever other mcguffin Bruce had access to. That was the only logical answer that fit easily into Jason’s mind.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Why was Jason’s heart beating so fast?

He’d felt this fear before, in a dream.

Jason swallowed to keep his throat from closing up. He pushed himself to his feet and tried to grab a dagger from his belt.

He tried. And tried. It was right there, inches from his fingers twitching at his sides. Jason knew he was in control of his body. He could shift his weight and stretch his limbs and crack his neck.

But he couldn’t seem to grab a weapon.

Jason made a fist instead. He couldn’t raise it for the punch.

“You’re okay,” Bruce promised, trying to soothe the panic that was crawling up Jason’s throat. He reached up and stroked Jason’s face and Jason couldn’t seem to stop him. He wanted to pull away from the disgusting false kindness. But he fucking couldn’t. “We’re going home now.” Bruce’s tone was too calm, too even. Perfectly soothing and unbothered by Jason’s growing panic.

“No,” Jason choked out. He still had his words and could fight with them, at least. “What the fuck did you do, you bastard?”

Bruce’s expression changed but was impossible to get a full read on, hidden by the cowl. “What I had to. To keep you safe and bring you home.”

“I’m not yours,” Jason put as much force as he could into every word. All his hate, all his rage, dripped like a venom that was keeping him alive. He used his hatred to hide the fear that was swirling his thoughts, making them harder and harder to make sense of.

Something was wrong. All his worst nightmares of Jason just giving in and agreeing to go home with Bruce as an obedient little soldier were coming to life. Like sick prophecies he couldn’t escape.

Something was very wrong. Jason’s whole body was starting to shake and he instinctively reached for his chest, trying to find what was wrong. Something was lodged deep inside of him that didn’t belong. Something that Jason had to pull out before it took deeper root and he was- he was lost to some terrible unseen thing lurking in the corner of his mind. Whatever it was, Jason needed it out now before-

Bruce clicked his tongue. Jason was at least certain this time the sound came directly from Bruce, watching his mouth move to form the sharp clicking noise. Distinct and-

Familiar.

The fight or flight bled out of Jason’s limbs. His body calmed, even as his mind was still fighting the feeling. Muted and distant now, but still definitely there. Jason fumbled between the lines of a forced calm and natural panic. He didn’t know which one he wanted, which was the right one to be feeling.

The calm was entrancing. Hypnotizing, even. A siren trying to lull Jason under the waves so he would just sink into the current. The water was so warm and inviting, promising an existence where Jason wouldn’t have to feel so much pain all the time-

Hypnotizing.

It was hypnotizing.

Jason vaguely remembered Talia mentioning a hypnotism expert that Bruce once knew but she couldn’t convince Jason to train with them. He thought it sounded like a bunch of pseudoscience bullshit. Everyone knew hypnotism was a dumb Placebo.

Everyone it seemed, except Jason’s body. Which felt like it was trying to sink into the dirt under the weight of forced calm Bruce had wrapped around him.

“How-” Jason’s mouth was full of cotton. “Did you brainwash me, or something?”

“Conditioning,” Bruce corrected. How was he so casual about it? “It took months to make sure you wouldn’t notice. I did what I had to, to keep you safe from yourself.” He dared to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, pulling Jason’s pliant body forward until his forehead was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder. “This isn’t a punishment, Jason. I need you to understand, I didn’t do this to save Gotham. I did this to save you.”

He made the words sound like a love confession. They were the most terrifying words Jason had ever heard. They sounded more like a prison sentence Jason’s soul had been damned to then something sweet.

Jason managed to shake his head. His ears were ringing as he tried so hard to fight against the siren song. Bruce’s body was so warm. His words were barbed wire wrapped in a lullaby. They pierced Jason so deep he was sure he had to be bleeding everywhere. He could taste it, after all. Nothing made sense.

“You wouldn’t,” Jason whispered, almost delirious with how surreal it all felt. His tether to reality was cut cleanly by his puppeteer, razor-thin wires shackling him in place. A promise.

Bruce dared to press a kiss against Jason’s temple. “I already have.”

Jason went limp. Bruce caught him around the waist, easily picking him up to hold Jason gingerly.

Like a lover.

The nightmares of Bruce’s touch tasted so real.

Oh, fuck.

The nightmares.

“You’ve done this before,” Jason realized, tears of betrayal pricking in his eyes. The nightmares were real. They were distant, hypnotized memories he couldn’t quite reach in the back of his mind. Locked away until Bruce decided to unlock this conditioned, obedient side of Jason to play with. Using him like a toy.

Bruce was a psychotic bastard who always went too far.

But this. This was something new. An incomprehensible horror Jason could’ve never imagined Bruce doing. That was why they had to be nightmares, not memories. Bruce never would’ve done that to Jason. Jason never would’ve just laid there and taken it from Bruce. He wasn’t some lap dog for Bruce to domesticate.

He wasn’t.

This wasn’t real obedience. It was forced submission.

This wasn’t real at all. It couldn’t be.

This wasn’t Jason.

He wouldn’t have let this happen to himself.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Bruce was wiping the tears away. Daring to be fucking gentle, like he wasn’t perfectly aware of Jason’s inner turmoil eating him alive.

“Let’s go home,” Bruce said, adjusting Jason into a bridal carry and ignoring as Jason’s shallow breaths gave way to soft sobs.

The worst part was, Jason could feel himself slipping deeper into the corners of his mind. It was disturbingly easy to fall for the drowning nothingness that quieted all his rebelling emotions tearing him apart.

It was easy to give in to Bruce’s conditioning.

Before Jason knew it, he was tucked into the Batmobile, limbs completely immobile as they drove down familiar streets.

The anger melted away first.

Then the fear.

All those feelings left and Jason was just-

Empty.

He was going home.

Moments of clarity came to Jason in short, chaotic bursts. The first one came to him as Bruce was stripping him of his clothes, throwing them to the ground without a care in the world, desperate to consume Jason with hungry hands.

He could see Bruce’s face, now. It was all Jason could see.

Those awful, wanting eyes. Looking at Jason like he was just another toy of Bruce’s.

“What…” Jason’s words were slurred and barely fit in his mouth. “Stop- Bruce, stop-”

“Shh,” Bruce pressed his mouth against Jason’s and Jason was sinking again, unable to stop his body from reacting and kissing back. “I’ve got you.” The words were already so far away Jason barely heard them, even pressed against his mouth.

Bruce tasted like peppermint and sweet compliance.

The second clear moment was the longest one.

It came to Jason with a gasp, chest heaving for air as if something had been choking him.

He wasn’t being choked, though.

He was being fucked.

The gasp turned into a startled moan when a long thrust drove right into Jason’s prostate, his entire body jerking. Jason’s arms were wrapped around Bruce’s back, clinging to him like some kind of needy animal as Bruce drove into Jason’s body. A mutt with his belly up, compliant, like he was afraid of.

“Stop fighting it,” Bruce murmured into Jason’s ear, immediately knowing that Jason was lucid.

How could Jason stop fighting when he didn’t know he was fighting in the first place? He wasn’t in control of the mess in his head pulling him in too many directions.

He was so wrought out that all he could do was cry, anguished.

Jason wanted to push Bruce off of him. He didn’t want this pleasure. Jason’s arms moved sluggishly, but at least seemed to obey him, pushing weakly at Bruce’s shoulder.

“No, no no no,” Jason chanted the only thing he could get out. A mantra, a plea, and a prayer all in one. Every thrust rattled his bones with new, yet familiar feelings that were too real.

The parts of Jason’s body not under his control bloomed under Bruce’s touch. His back was arching and he was grinding onto Bruce’s cock. It made no sense, how he tried to claw at Bruce’s skin while chasing more and more of Bruce deep inside him.

It was where Bruce belonged, an insidious voice whispered in Jason’s ear. Where Jason belonged, too.

No, Jason fought back in his own mind.

God please, no.

Bruce just kept moving and fucking Jason. As if it wasn’t rape.

It was rape, wasn’t it? Jason’s consent wasn’t real. Bruce had made it up.

All of this was made up. Jason would never let Bruce do this to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Bruce soothed, pressing flowering kisses down Jason’s throat. Jason tried to turn his head away but he had nowhere to go, trapped underneath Bruce.

“No,” Jason repeated. He hit Bruce in the chest when a particular thrust made Jason’s own cock twitch and a moan rolled through his body.

Jason was hard. There was already precum dripping out of him.

Would he come like this? Did he have words, when he was completely under? In some of Jason’s nightmare-memories, he could remember begging Bruce for more. More touch, more pleasure, more orgasms.

That was what Bruce had reduced Jason to. A wanton whore who didn’t even have control of his own body. Jason violently shook his head, trying to wiggle more control into his limbs. He managed to just barely kick Bruce’s leg. Not hard, but enough to make Bruce stumble, catching himself with a hand against the mattress. A hand that wasn’t touching Jason anymore, making him sigh in relief. He could keep this momentum.

He just had to hold onto the control-

“I love you,” Bruce said, voice silky and going down Jason’s psyche like smooth whiskey. The burning aftertaste was there, trying to start a fire strong enough for Jason to fight back with, but Jason just swallowed.

Those words were the needed trigger to push Jason back down. And worse, this time it wasn't a gentle descent. He felt like he was being smothered by a pillow inside his own head. Jason was pretty sure he actually screamed before his body was taken from him.

Jason only managed to give Bruce a parting glare.

Lucidity came for Jason again with water raining down on his body. Hot enough to steam up the space, making Jason’s muscles sag.

He was in a shower. Leaning against Bruce. Practically clinging to him like a fucking child.

He could feel the soreness in a deep, disgusting place Jason never wanted to know Bruce could reach. Two gentle hands were massaging shampoo into Jason’s hair. The scent that Bruce used, not Jason.

Even when all this was over, Jason still wouldn’t be able to get Bruce’s scent off his skin.

Bruce had to be doing it on purpose.

“I hate you,” Jason spat the words out as fast as he could. He knew he was going to slip away again.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Acceptance was an ugly pill Jason hated swallowing with every fiber of his being.

He had never hated himself more.

Hating Bruce was an easy second nature. But this level of self-hatred was new, even for Jason.

He was so tired of feeling it. Of feeling at all.

Bruce didn’t use words this time. Jason’s ugly confession wasn’t acknowledged. Warm fingers just pressed into a specific spot against the back of Jason’s neck and he was boneless again.

Jason’s last thought was wondering just how many triggers Bruce had programmed into him.

He probably didn’t want to know.

Jason’s final moment of awareness came in Bruce’s arms. He was pressed against Bruce’s chest, finding himself tracing idle patterns across Bruce’s skin while Bruce was reading something on his tablet.

There was cold, bitter anger freezing Jason’s chest over.

But mostly, there was numbness.

Emptiness.

Jason didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t see the point when his words meant nothing to Bruce. He just glared into nothing, hand going completely rigid, then curling into a useless fist.

He didn’t want to know how many times he had been here before.

Bruce leaned down and kissed Jason’s brow. Jason wrinkled his nose but gave no other reaction. He kept his body perfectly still, even with it in his control.

“Do you want to remember?” Bruce asked.

Confusion clouded Jason’s muddy senses. “What?”

Bruce brushed stray hair out of Jason’s eyes and tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into Bruce’s lovingly unforgiving eyes. “Do you want to remember this time? You don’t have to remember if you’re not ready.”

Not ready. Jason didn’t like how those two words were heavy and had so many implications that they turned his stomach.

“No,” Jason couldn’t stop himself from telling the truth. Bruce had asked if he wanted to remember.

And Jason didn’t want this. He needed to remember. But more than anything, he didn’t want to remember this. It made his skin crawl.

He wanted this to be a bad dream.

The logic side of Jason’s brain was screaming and begging to remember this. If Jason knew this was real when he was away from Bruce, then he could get far, far away. He could run.

He could go anywhere.

Bruce hummed and nodded. With understanding Jason could feel down to his core, an awful thing.

He’d done this before, after all. The routine was down pat, for Bruce.

And for Jason, it was a new horror that he was going to learn over and over again.

Maybe Bruce got some kind of sick enjoyment out of this wretched cycle. Jason knew Bruce’s end goal, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

He couldn’t. Admitting it made it real.

And this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Instead of slipping under the edge of conditioning, Jason just slipped into sleep. His body relaxed and Bruce pulled a blanket around him, tucking him in and murmuring something Jason didn’t quite catch.

Jason drifted into a dreamless sleep.

With a swear and a jolt, Jason woke up. His heart was pounding and he grabbed his chest, breathing hard. He sat up, swinging his legs over his shitty bed in his shitty warehouse.

“Fucking nightmares,” Jason grumbled, getting his body to calm down. The nightmare was already slipping away. It was something so ridiculous that he didn’t bother chasing it. Something about Bruce touching him and Jason just letting him.

A snort came out of Jason’s chest at the thought. He stood up, shaking himself free of stupid night terrors.

Jason rolled his eyes and wandered over toward his fridge, mind already drifting to think about the case he was working on, looking over the board on his wall to give his attention to something that actually deserved it.

Like he’d ever let Bruce get close to him, Jason wasn’t just some mutt belly-up starved for attention.

Over his dead body.

[crescentfool]

adventures in makomart!

[skitskatdacat63]

"Non paeniteo potitus."

+ details & process

And, process !!

The jump btwn the second to last and last always surprise me whenever I make one of these because I always forget to take snapshots after I start painting. It's always like: oh yeah heres the lineart with some colors- BOOM fully finished✨️

What he's holding are the Austrian imperial scepter and orb, seen below:

I was going to draw the crown too but decided I don't hate myself that much(maybe some other day), and gave him a golden laurel crown, bcs I'm obsessed with that as a motif, and also its very remincient of the boy king statue that started this whole thing!

There's some symbolism of this, both intentionally but also just historically. I love that the orb represents that the monarch is holding the world in their hand, basically every old monarchy has one of those, and I think it's very cool for symbolism. But also bcs of that, I was forced to basically draw catholic fanart so, you win some you lose some. The star halo above him head is both to reference those religious statues with star crowns(I saw them a lot in Europe and they imprinted onto my brain), as well as: his four championships of course!

[bookishjules]

2, 3 and 21 for simon lewis/lovelace PLEASE <3

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

simon is bi. fight me

3. Obscure headcanon

yossarian wasn't the lewis family's first cat. simon's dad had a cat who the kids grew up with and who outlived mr. lewis by a couple years. losing that cat was especially hard on simon, who had obviously been the youngest when his dad died and who was kinda mourning anew for him as well as the cat. enter: a stray who wandered into luke's bookshop. when luke saw how much simon opened up with the cat, he let the kid take the stray, which he had already taken to calling yossarian, home. (after confirming with mrs. lewis ofc)

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)

coffee. black out of convenience. different from clary's black, which is because she prefers the taste (and the aesthetic lol)

character asks <3

[mortifying-macaroni]

1, 15 and 22 for Gretch for the NSFW asks!

HI, BABEZ! Tysm for the questions! <3 <3 1. Are there any names they like to be called in bed/names they call their partner? Any names they wouldn’t use/can’t stand?

Any endearing pet name would do. She's not picky in that regard, but being called a good girl really gets her going (Tho she secretly wants to be called mommy as well). As for her partner (in this case- Andrei) she usually uses names like master, tiger, darling or cucciolo (puppy in Italian).

15. Describe their favorite sexual encounter.

Ooh! That's an interesting one! Aside from her wedding night I'd say it would be her second time with Andrei where the encounter involved desecrating a certain *ahem* sarcophagus in the heat of the moment in Hallowbrook (I've yet to write that part in my fic holy moly).

22. Favorite thing/part about sex—intimacy, role-playing, etc.

With Gretchen being terminally horny, she'd have trouble choosing one when there are so many things she enjoys about sex equally: foreplay, torturous teasings, experimenting w toys & positions, role-play, the intimacy/connection, fighting for dominance or submitting,..etc. practically everything under the sun.

[wikitpowers]

ik it’s an old song but “i hate u i love u” by gnash is literally kitty

Feeling used, but I'm still missing you And I can't see the end of this

kit allll thru qoaad about the resurrection

I hate you, I love you I hate that I want you You want her, you need her And I'll never be her

kit’s conflicted feelings for ty after being rejected. “her” is livvy 100% (ik it’s meant to be in a romantic way, like the guy is in love w the girl, but trust my interpretation okay 🤧)

Thinking about you so late at night But I can't stop once I start it's like an avalanche Thoughts coming and I just wanna hold your hand

kit misses him 🥹🥹

All alone, I watch you watch her Like she's the only girl you've ever seen You don't care, you never did You don't give a damn about me

KIT AFTER TY SAID THE THING TO LIVVY ABOUT “THERES NOTHING WITHOUT YOU”

ahem ty for coming to my ted talk

oh this was a pleasure to read… i love analysing kitty coded songs and u doing that with this song just made my very very happi (and also sad bc wtf). i actually have it in my kitty playlist bc it fits them. so. freaking. well. god that song is amazing :’(

actually comparing the “you want her, you need her but i’ll never be her” line to livvy was brutal how could u do that to me????? (but also i think this lyric would work really well with ty and hazel. like if ty knows about her, he definitely feels heartbroken and betrayed, like he will never live up to her, he will never be loved by kit… which is a bunch of lies but yk) :(

[marv3l-drag0ns]

A Minotaur!Pearl would be an interesting trait.

I actually AODRE this idea- pearls a really cool 'crafter, and i love moon-themed bovines. I imagine that the spots on her face and the moon on her forehead would fluctuate with the moon cycles. also stars on the hoodie strings are iconic and i want some that can be chew stims. If she wasn't wearing a hoodie here you'd see that she has socks on her arms (fur pattern so white sections on the limbs) and feet. Shes the silly.

If she wasnt wearing her hoodie id also say that she would have a moth and moon themed dress cloak combo because i think that sounds v cool.

[azalea-bee]

i will give u a real one later i prommy but if u were to write a story about atmos and winston what would u write? would u write them hanging out with ur own ocs please say yes -🦋🌙

YEAH OFC i would!! hehehe just based on vibes i think atmos would get along best with emrys and cassia, and winston would have fun with winnie :D winston regresses sometimes right? (or do both of them regress? i can’t remember agh) i could totally see winnie and winston having a playdate messing around in the garden while emrys keeps an eye on them, maybe they root around for worms or steal strawberries to munch on when they think he’s not looking (he totally knows but lets them have their sneaky snack) :]

[leftdestiny-posts]

Good morning, Shiro, DOTT!! When I heard about your bakery, I just had to check it out. Which pastries would you recommend for a first-time customer?? :3

"That depends on the customer."

DOTT places the last cupcake from this morning's batch behind the glass counter. The bright blue and pink icing does not stand out between the other bright colors in the bakery. If anything; it seems like it'd be a signature item on the menu.

Once he's satisfied with its specific placement, a smile forms on his face and he gently pats his hands against the apron that's tied around his waist.

DOTT Bakery (Also known as .bakery on official papers and the sign on the building) has always had a peculiar reputation.

It's unusual in the way the building appeared in the corner of a street in Snezhnaya's capital out of nowhere, unusual because of the neverending new items and recipes; their unusual ingredients which somehow taste amazing when prepared by the baker, and the unusual DOTT himself;

An eccentric guy that no one really gets.

He's rumoured to be, well... many things.

Quite frankly, the rumours clash and people can't seem to make up their minds about him.

Some people say he's too friendly; his smile is too wide and, really, why would anyone be smiling in Snezhnaya's current conditions?

He is too much; a freak, strange, and most likely an outsider.

Other people praise his creativity and are attracted to the welcoming feeling of the bakery. They say it's a refreshing shop amidst the otherwise grim streets.

Too friendly turns into a sigh of relief to people who experienced the coldness of the world. To them, his eccentric nature can be accepted as a form of comfort.

A hope that perhaps, some day, the Archon of Love will bless the nation with prosperity and happiness again.

And while you can't judge these things upon someone you've just met; you can see why there would be contradictions surrounding him.

Despite the smile and the welcoming impression he gives off, a set of lifeless eyes makes you feel uneasy as they glance your way. Their red color is alarming, unusual. Unique, yes. Certainly. However, for something so bright, his eyes are seemingly lifeless... dull????

If you were staring, DOTT would not be bothered by it. Instead, he seems quite cheerful at the sight of a new customer!

From the counter, he grabs a card and turns it to you. His fingers slide over the words. "My bakery is specialised in sweets, although we have a vast variety of savory pastries as well."

If you were to look at the menu, you'd notice that the items on it do not match the items currently available. From the looks of it, it's not outdated. Perhaps he is still trying to decide what to add.

"Feel free to look at the items with reviews. If you find nothing to your liking, you're free to request something to your taste."

UNLOCKED: MENU ITEMS

> every time a customer orders a [ new ] item, it will be added and delivered with a fragment of DOTT's memory

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari.......... will u mutual bingo meeeee?

NIKU ……. say less >:3 here is your bingo hehe pls have a seat n sip on some coffee ☕️ made it extra bitter so **** won’t come and steal it from u….

[necrotic-nephilim]

i love your fics and the ideas you describe for the ask games. i'm especially fond of your takes on the rarer pairings and i always smile when i see your posts in the ship tags <3

and don't stress too much about not posting anything, real life is important and participating in fandom should be fun, not something you have to force yourself to do. god knows fandom burnout is real, especially if you feel like people are expecting something from you. just keep doing what makes you happy :)

ghgfhgjhkjhjhg this was so sweet, thank you so much! i *love* talking about rarer rarepairs, especially if it gets other people to ship them too. the popular ships are fun and all, but i truly love spreading rarepair propaganda.

that's very reassuring, thank you <3 i've loved everything i posted here so far and have not felt pushed to post anything i haven't enjoyed, but sometimes i forget i can like. use this blog for whatever i want and not *just* headcanons/fics/mets/etc lol. and i also forget i don't have to rush myself. it's annoying to want to write and either not have time or not have the words work. i used to run a fandom blog in my teens that got very large and felt like a chore and i was so stressed about the need to perform and the numbers and all of that. like if a fic didn't do well i saw it as a personal failing and forced myself to write popular headcanons just for the numbers game. was not fun or sustainable in the long run and i think it contributed to me no longer having any taste for the ship i primarily wrote for. so for too long i treated existing in fandom like a job lol. i've mostly gotten it through to myself that this is a space for me, but i occasionally forget when i'm so caught up in all the things i want to get to for this blog. my to-write list is a mile long and i need to be bonked with a paper towel roll, i think. so it's very kind of you to say this bc the reminder is nice <3

[layalu]

art trademark: expressions, character interactions, TEXTURES (in big letters underlined twice) and hatching specifically, rim lighting, faces that look very.... animated? idk how to put it but yeah, and really good style mimicry

HECK YEAH HATCHING TEXTURE, i love doing that so i'm happy to hear it Shows hehe <3 And expressions are something i try to pay a lot of attention to so i'm glad that it pays off! :]

[tunastime]

for the ask game!!

"It's true, isn't it?"

“I don’t think so,” Etho shakes his head. He looks into his hands, picking at a chip in his nail. “I still loved you. Still love you.”

“Sure.” Bdubs doesn’t sound truly convinced, but he says it in a gentle voice that Etho’s only heard when Bdubs is making sure he’s okay when he hurts himself, a voice he heard a lot in the death game. But it doesn’t bite any less. Etho sighs.

“Why are you here, Bdubs?” he says, finally turning to him. “When there’s a perfectly good version of you asleep somewhere, alive.”

“Because you’re dreaming about apologizing to me, your brain’s stuck on hallucinating me,” Bdubs says, furrowing his brow. “Because you feel bad.”

“I don’t...I don’t think I feel bad.”

The shape of Bdubs’ face finally comes into view, the one he knows from outside the games, unbruised and awake.

“You sure?”

laurie belaurie only you would choose this fic and it means so much to me that you did!

this is from Night Swims (previously called You're My Favorite Ghost), and it takes place right after Hot Tea! gosh, this fic was so fun for me, I really dived right into how ethubs works as characters and tried my best to analyze etho without having bdubs there.

through this entire fic, etho's guilt and despair manifests physically as the "ghost" of bdubs, who follows him around his modded world. tldr: he can't sleep, and his guilt makes it worse! I originally got this idea after a beloved mutual (nightbug! hi!) sent me an ask curious on how etho dealt with the loss of bdubs post last life, and honestly. until that point, I don't think I'd realized that etho just. doesn't really go back to hermitcraft after last life. not in his videos, not really. he jumps straight into modded. and so I started writing!

this scene in particular is really interesting to me, because etho isn't really good at dealing with complex emotions, to me--he can, but he's a lot more likely to just pretend they don't bother him all that much. he's real easy going, real cool and chill, and I think there is a point where things get to him, but when they do, they really get to him (something I talked about in Spacer!). he tries hard to keep it at bay by working harder ("With no left over time for thinking too hard. With no left over time to mourn. Right.") but there comes a breaking point (this section) where he's forced to confront his feelings.

it was purposeful to have etho confront his feelings in a way that wasn't internal--that is, bdubs' ghost being the reason he "can't keep doing this" and eventually sends a letter to bdubs. so while he's trying to work and trying to put it off, those feelings get to a point where he's forced to do something about them, or risk making himself miserable in his condition. I think etho, alongside tango, are two characters that put big, difficult, complex feelings aside to deal with later, only to never come back to them. at least I think so!

this fic is actually titled after the half alive song Night Swims, chosen in post. the song is more of a spoken word piece, and I think it's descriptions of needing to shed feeling and take a break from the world, and from yourself, is really pertinant to what etho was experiencing. he's suffering through grief and self-doubt and anger with himself and isn't able to fully realize it. instead of facing those feelings head on, he takes a break, and in doing so, accidentally makes that grief worse by feeling like he's running from the source. it's only in Back Around, the follow up fic to Night Swims, that etho feels strong enough to face those feelings and return to hermitcraft, to season 9.

anyway! i'm still insane about ethubs to this day. i always meant to write another half alive inspired ethubs fic...

(x)

[caffeiiine]

i would like to see either nikolai or sigma's sentences please :3 /nf

THANK YOU!!! YOU ARE FUELING MY TWO FAVORITE THINGS!!!

under the cut bc length. [it got REALLY long]

anyways, nikolai and sigmas prison sentences as they would be in the US.

note: i’m not using the wiki for this. i doubt it covers everything, so im going back through the manga and analyzing everything from there. aside from finding out manga appearances, everything else is research and pre-memorized info.

note 2: i may have made a few mistakes with the sentencing but it should be accurate enough give or take 10 years.

note 3: there’s no minimum sentence since majority of research i’m doing leads to me picking the minimum years since it usually states “punishable by life imprisonment or any number of years” which is unspecific and sucks so i just dropped the category

nikolai!!! - crimes - sentence - reference state - references/citations

Crimes :

first degree murder [7 accounts]

second degree murder [1 account]

domestic terrorism [16]

mutilation of a corpse [1 account]

shoplifting [implied, counted as 1 general account/misdemeanor]

assault with/using a deadly weapon [1 account]

impersonation [2 accounts]

[1]

disturbing the peace

theft of public property [2][3] [1 account]

verbal assault/threat [4] [1 account]

aiding and abetting

aiding in prison break

drugging [1 account]

attempted poisoning [5] [2 accounts]

fleeing arrest [1 account]

[6]

robbery/general larceny [4 accounts]

unlawful possession of explosives

attempted first degree murder [implied] [7]

kidnapping [4 accounts]

aiding a convict

breaking and entering [1 account]

sentence :

at maximum = 14 life sentences + 61 years + 186 days and/or up to 7,063,000$ in fines; no parole

reference state : michigan

references via michigan legislature : [first degree murder] Section 750.316 Act 328 of 1931 + [second degree murder] Section 750.317 Act 328 of 1931 + [domestic terrorism not counted, i can’t find definitive punishments and it'd probably be with the supreme court] + [mutilation of a corpse] Section 750.160 Act 328 of 1931 + [shoplifting] Section 750.356 Act 328 of 1931 + [impersonation] Section 750.217 Act 328 of 1931 + [felony assault] Section 750.82 Act 328 of 1931 + [disturbing the peace] Section 750.170(?) + [theft of public property] section 750.356 act 328 of 1931 + [terrorizing/verbal assault/harrassment] section 750.411h act 328 of 1931 + [aidinh and abetting] section 750.450 act 328 of 1931 + [aiding in a prisoners escape/aiding a convict] section 750.183 act 328 of 1931 + [attempted poisoning] section 750.91 act 328 of 1931 + [fleeing arrest] section 760.479a act 328 of 1931 + [robbery] section 750.529 act 328 of 1931 + [unlawful possession of explosives] section 750.200 act 328 of 1931 + [attempted first degree murder] section 750.91 act 328 of 1931 + [kidnapping] section 750.349 act 328 of 1931 + [breaking and entering (with explosives)] section 750.112 act 328 of 1931.

Sigma!!! - crimes - sentence - reference state - references/citations

[8]

threatening an officer [2 accounts]

domestic terrorism [16]

unlawful possession of explosives

attempted first degree murder [1 account]

criminal negligence [9]

aiding and abetting

negligent attempted mass murder [10]

attempted first degree murder by proxy [several accounts] [11]

felony assault by proxy [12] [3 accounts]

[13]

attempted manslaughter [14] [2 accounts]

attempted second degree murder [15] [1 account]

aiding in a prison break

aiding a convict [1 account]

breaking and entering [1 account]

felony assault [3 accounts]

sentence :

at maximum: 5 life sentences + 45 years 93 days and/or up to 8,000$ in fines; possibility of parole

references via michigan legislature: [aiding and abetting] section 750.450 act 328 of 1931 + [felony assault] section 750.82 act 328 of 1932 + [aiding in prisoner escape/aiding a convict] section 750.183 act 328 of 1932 + [unlawful possession of an explosive] section 750.200 act 328 of 1932 + [attempted (any type of) murder/manslaughter] section 750.91 act 328 of 1932 + [breaking and entering (with explosives)] section 750.112 act 328 of 1932 + [threatening an officer] section 750.478a act 328 of 1932 + [criminal/gross negligence] section 8.9 michigan legislature