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HELLO! I redrew my Warner designs from 2 years ago! I dont think I ever posted it on here, but the one on the bottom was December 2020. 😊
Ive been re-reading the Axe and Milk fics (If you dont know what those are oml please read them! The Axe fic is my favorite!) as per tradition every year since I found them, so Im back on my Animaniacs brainrot for a bit.
Ember got a redesign! They are technically my Warner Sona, but with a twist. Basically they are a redesigned 4th sibling [like how Smakky and Wakko turned into the same toon later down the line.] She has an intresting backstory, Ill eventually be writing something for it!
[Im still not okay with that Hulu, give us more seasons for our children or I will riot! /j]
Im still getting used to Archieve, thats why stories are taking a bit, also because I have a job I love and Im taking a bit of a break for the holidays! The next part of Your Average Summer Vacation is coming soon!
Dec 2020 Version >>
[Ps: Em was supposed to be one year younger then Yakko originally, but I decided to make it similar to their original lineup before the 90s show]
(REBLOGS > LIKES)
#animanics reboot#animaniacs yakko#animaniacs wakko#animaniacs dot#animaniacs#yakko wakko and dot#the warner siblings#Wakko and Em are twins#which one is the oldest#youll never know but Em swears she is#artists on tumblr#digital art#dot warner#yakko warner#wakko warner#fan art#starryinkartwork
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Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-
Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-
"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.
"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-
"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.
"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.
She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.
Nor the shaking fear.
"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"
"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.
When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.
"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."
"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.
Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.
"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"
"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"
"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.
"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.
"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."
They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.
"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.
She can't think. She can't think.
Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.
Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.
Until she suddenly smells ozone.
Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.
The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.
Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.
"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."
Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-
Nobody has ever cared for her.
... Nobody has-
Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.
"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"
A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."
A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.
She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.
The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"
"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."
"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"
"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."
For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"
"No, Athena!"
"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"
"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"
Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.
Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.
"Please," She whispers.
Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.
"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."
Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.
She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.
She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.
"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-
He's still singing.
She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.
Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"
"Sister-"
"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"
Her siblings exchange looks.
"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"
Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.
"Wait, the bandages-!"
"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"
"Daughter, be careful!"
Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.
"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.
A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.
"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.
He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."
She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."
Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."
"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."
"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.
The wave passes. They are almost touching now.
"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."
He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.
"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"
"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"
"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"
"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."
"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"
"Yes."
"But he's your-"
"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.
"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"
"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."
"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."
Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."
He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."
"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.
"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"
"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."
He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.
But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.
"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."
"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."
"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"
"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."
"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.
"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"
"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.
Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.
"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."
"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.
Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"
Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.
"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.
"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"
"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.
"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.
"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"
"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"
"Really, daughter, you should know better!"
Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.
"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."
"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.
"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."
Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.
"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."
Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."
Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."
Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."
"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.
#athena#odysseus#god games#the aftermath at least#epic the musical#epic the wisdom saga#listen athena is the oldest sister. seeing that 'perfect' and unbroken goddess have a seizure because zeus lost his temper and attacked her#would Not have been easy on them#tw sex assault#< for Calypso#seizures are scary as all hell and no god has ever been injured enough to have one before#which is why theyre all terrified#also both of them have not processed much theyre just keeping their focus on the horizon#hera#aphrodite#ares#hephaestus#i just liked the a theme but it is him#artemis#found kt weird she wasnt there???#apollo#zeus but everyone is currently on the brink of murdering him#does it count as#odyath#if i mean for that to happen wayyy in the future#rn they r just friends that also happen to be intertwined in each other's mannerisms#odypen#my fic
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#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition
#dwedit#doctor who#mrs flood#fifteenth doctor#the master#jacobi!master#tenth doctor#jack harkness#martha jones#twelfth doctor#ninth doctor#*#okay here is my argument: mrs flood IS a time lord but her presence here has nothing to do with the doctor#instead she's here because of ruby. she's seemingly part of/related to the pantheon of discord & we know that ruby is connected to them too#so i think that she was deliberately placed as ruby's neighbor by the pantheon/oldest one/ruby's mom/? in order to watch over her#it also explains why she was there to check on ruby in 1.04. once she realizes she's on the phone w carla she says 'nothing to do with me'#and she leaves. which implies that it COULD have had something to do with her. if it had been something else going on#ANYWAY. to get to the time lordness of it all. rn i personally believe that she's a time lord that's been hiding on earth for 50+ years#bc i don't think she recognized the police box as a tardis initially. that first quote should be taken at face value.#instead picture this: she's watching over ruby as per usual. a police box is there - weird but nbd. then it dematerializes in front of her.#she drops her groceries. she's shocked. she kinda looks scared. if she already knew it was a tardis why would she react like that?#so imo she knows OF tardises. she DIDN'T know the police box was one. and she's worried the time lords have found her hence the fear.#but when nothing happens and nobody comes at her she realizes she's still safe#later when she sees the doctor she realizes the tardis is his/he must be a time lord. he doesn't identify her but that's happened before#so then when she asks him who he is i think what she's actually asking for is his title. WHICH time lord are you.#bc lbr if she knows abt tardises then she knows about time lords and if she knows abt time lords she knows what it means for ruby#to be joining him - and that's why she wishes ruby good luck. meanwhile this is clearly the outcome she WANTS (them to be together)#bc she gets visibly upset when the doctor seems to decide to leave without ruby.#and for once i'm not master clowning bc the list of names the doctor gives out is VERY interesting. some of them we've never heard before:#the bishop; the conquistador; later he adds the pedant and sagi-shi and reiterates the bishop AGAIN. so i wonder if she's the bishop.....
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Catwoman portraits I've compiled after a while
#The oldest one here is from last October I think? yea I've been putting stuff off lol#hence the style inconsistencies (if you can guess which one was when I was into Street Fighter)#selina kyle#plausible art
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Ppl who use a generic explanation of "racism" for why westerners are so weird towards DPRK & PRC need to explain why so many aren't similarly racist towards ROK & ROC
#or like. why ppl from rok and roc are also often similarly weird abt them#like theres something different between these cant quite put my finger on it#also a lot of the points are identical to what ppl would say about the ussr#which. *gestures* *closes the oldest vault (its labeled 'are slavs white')*#this isnt even saying racism doesnt play a role#oftentime when its normatively acceptable to downtalk the enemy tm ppl pick up the tools that are closest to front of mind#the ones that theyre socially conditioned to recognize as rude when talking abt the good guys tm
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For all the shit he gets from the rest of the group, Jabra exudes a lot of big brother energy for CP9. Look at him carrying Kaku piggyback after letting Kalifa have his shirt
#opbackgrounds#one piece#ch495#jabra#cover story shenanigans#he's the oldest one in the group which surprised me#how can you tell me this man is older than bleuno?
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Apparently in the Middle Ages they used to draw these little pointing fingers in the margins of books called “manicules” that would highlight important passages. These are rad we should bring this back.
#hello I am in Ireland right now#these are from a place called Marsh’s Library that is the oldest library in Ireland#they have a ton of books from the Middle Ages/early and late renaissance#and it’s cool af#its smells overwhelmingly like old books it’s AMAZING#apparently bram stoker and james Joyce visited the reading room at this library#which is part of the library that you walk through now#idk it was just so fucking cool to look at the old rickety chair in there and know bram stoker sat in that at one point
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actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road
it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too
i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats
i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain
cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo
(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)
#ganondoodles talks#personal#tw pet death#tw cat death#i hate everything so much and my day is ruined#sorry to come at you with this but its just#the grief and anger i feel for these poor things is more than their owners ever will feel im sure#just getting another one like its a consumable piece of candy#its so common here i hate it#why are people so insistent on it#the fact that the shelter here too advocates for outdoor cats in every cats description makes me twice as mad#do you actually care for them or do you hope they die quickly so people get one more frquently or what#i thought about writing them but i have had both of my cats from there and i am afraid they would not take it well#i dont know how to approach trying to make a change in this case#(my current cat is indoor only obviously and shes about 10 now- which is the oldest of any cats i have known has gotten)#this is germany specific btw ... if theres anyone that knows an organization trying to change this pls let me know
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They’re holding hands :)
#idk how I managed to position them so perfectly#but now I don’t think I can ever move them again ever#legends of avantris#once upon a witchlight#ouaw#torbek#morning frost#frostbek#I’ve been cuddling the two of them all day#because I feel like shit and they make me feel better#I mean I have other plushies that are significantly better to cuddle with#both in size and squishability#but also#these are my emotional support gay furries with separation anxiety#and they make me feel better#also unrelated but i recently counted the amount of plushies I have in my room#and I have about 20 in my room that I know about#which honestly might speak volumes about my childhood#since the oldest one here was from when I was about 14/15#and the rest I got once I started working when I was 17 and older
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thinking about hermitcraft(and mc in general) worldbuilding as i do occasionally and the age thing is FASCINATING to me. one could take so many paths about it and its so cool like!!!
i feel like the most popular one is 'close ish to the actual irl hermits ages' or even kind of a shrug, they're adults. of some age. ive seen some people write the ones who've been playing since the game came out as Literally As Old As The Universe using our universe as a metric, making them. yknow. many billions of years old and the rest of the hermits as not too much younger than that.
then there's the one i find most interesting: they're as old as their in-game days(discounting them logging off the game because. not a thing in-universe(except for some writers, god there is so much freedom in the worldbuilding)). wow, mc days go by real fast! but its only been 14 years since mc was born— the ogs would be barely a thousand years old. now thats a long time!!! 10x the oldest person i know!! ....only 10x the oldest person i know. if someone was 1000 today they'd only have been born during the latter third of the byzantine empire. only about as old as the earliest version of the printing press. by Old As Balls standard thats!! super young!!!
but its still as old as their universe. imagine: this is an infant universe— but its all you've ever known. you're not old enough for the Immortality Thing to really get to you, but you are as old or older than LITERALLY EVERYTHING. EVER. is 1000 like, the tween years for mortal gods? what kind of mindset do you have around the nature of life at 1,000 compared to 10,000? you are old, and the universe is young, and you're the same age, and you are the universe, and you are love. isnt that crazy.
#shush slinky#my hobby is thinking way too much and too deep about things#please please please someone add their thoughts about hermit ages too i love thinking about this#ive also seen like one(1) time: the oldest hermits are as old as the game is irl#as in 14#but were born with the same cognition they have now#so like. theyve been fully formed adults for about 14 years which is STILL super young i feel like that has even more implications
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Quick question — how old is IM!Mugs supposed to be? Cuz in my mind he's IM!Cup's twin (even tho they're really not), yet I vividly remember this point in The Labyrinth Arc™ where IM!Cup is reminiscing about their parents and through his memory we're shown he was at the youngest a toddler when IM!Mugs was born, maybe even a little older (my headcannon is that he was 5 years old, but to each their own)
So yea. I'm very curious now (it WILL affect a story I'm making. probably at least)
#idk we're never really told people's ages#we know Bendy's bc he's mentioned once or twice as being 18. so barely an adult#and i THINK we know Boris' as well (he's like. 14-16 right. RIGHT?)#IM!Cup's in his 20s. early 20s in particular (in babqftim he was 23 if i remember correctly) and Holly probably ALSO is in her early 20s#Oswald has to be somewhere in his 30s. early 40s at the OLDEST i do NOT think someone in 1920 would have young childer beyond that age#and Felix ALSO has to be somewhere around that age range — a) bc he seems to be the same generation as Oswald and B) his sister has kids#Fanny i suspect is either late 20s or REAL early 30s bc she HAS to be the same generation as Oswald. right?? considering their past and all#other characters tho?? yea absolutely no fucking CLUE#which is funny cuz like. basically NONE of the ones i mentioned has a DEFINITIVE age lmaoooo#i just sort of winged it#chat do we KNOW know the characters' ages??? just outta curiosity tbf#... eh I'll just fucking wing it for the au. it's fiiiiine#anyway#demon rambles™#inky mystery#bendy and boris in the inky mystery#babitim#the inky mystery#text post#text#txt post#txt
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There is nothing else like me.
#illustration#comics#art#sketchbook#vampires#obelisk comic#blood#fun fact i painted this with cochineal red watercolor which is one of the oldest pigments!!! and its very beautiful. margot would approve
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another Bacara after sparring and a little headcanon featuring a very tired Cody and Fox
(I also like to think that if you pissed off Alpha, he'd make you fight against Bacara. Ponds and Gree are like the two people that aren't somewhat terrified of her)
#commander bacara#commander ponds#commander cody#commander fox#look. i like thinking up friendships and all that between the clones and their batches and how they love each other well enough#but i saw the opportunity and went full-send#ponds and bacara fucking h a t e each other#others generelly search for a safe space faaar away from them whenever they end up near each other#cody and fox as the second oldest each have to deal with it most of the time. which. theyre so done with this bullshit#main reason why cody and fox actually sorta get along. suffering together and not wanting to give their older sibs any more reason to keep#this bullshit up#and yes. ponds was the one that bit off a chunk of bacaras ear. shes never forgiven and he'll never regret#theres one thing they're willing to agree on and can hold a somewhat fun convo about#its that jango fucking s u c k s#fun all around#ajekyllsart
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I think it’s really funny of the Kudo/Kuroba parents to have twins and name one of them Masterpiece while the other one have Thief in his name 😭 Yusaku really is the golden youngest child ever since he was born huh.
#detective conan#dcmk#detco#yusaku kudo#kuroba toichi#here’s my youngest son his name is exceptional author/work#here’s my oldest son his name is No.1 Thief#Did one of the parents name both of them? Or did the name them separately which lead to the unfortunate event#no wonder they’re divorced#also Shinichi have the same Ichi kanji as Toichi (also Shuichi)#my headcanon is Yusaku name Shinichi with Toichi in mind#Since the Shin kanji in Shinichi’s name means new#shitpost tag to help me keep tracks
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With the collective effort of people from #čumblr we were able to put together a big playlist of songs that have some cultural significance in Czech republic and Slovakia. This playlist can serve to help people learning these languages, people interested in foreign music, and for some good trip down the memory lane for Czechs and Slovaks lol
Playlist features songs of multiple genres from folk to disco to musical to hard rock from anywhere between 1950s and 2010s
Also since I'm absolutely dying to hear other people's thoughts on our music I'd love if you put the playlist on shuffle, listen to the first song that comes up and reblog with the song and your thoughts on it in the tags <3
playlist will likely get updated over time with more songs
#one day if i'm feeling bored enough I might sort the songs by year of release#but as of now it's from oldest video to newest which doesn't reflect actual song releases#čumblr#czech#slovak#czech music#slovak music#czechoslovakia#foreign music
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Do psychotropic drugs and/or ritual play a role in any of the blightseed cultures? A pretty broad question, lol
Yeah that’s a very broad question, the answer is about as much as it tends to play roles in real history. Alcohol is pretty ubiquitous (outside of cultures that abstain from intoxicants) and used for a variety of purposes, opioids are commonly used in some parts for pain relief or recreational purposes, stimulants (usually in mild, natural forms) are used to provide extra energy, and hallucinogens are most commonly used as part of a larger religious framework (rather than for recreational purposes). Any more elaborate answer kinda has to be case by case in a certain culture or part of the setting.
I'll just take this as an opportunity to talk about the one established sect that pretty much REVOLVES around psychoactive use. This is the Scholarly Order of the Root, which is a sort of mystery religion + elite community of scholars who currently occupy the Ur-Tree and its forest in the far southern Lowlands (southeast of Imperial Wardin, on the same land mass).
The Ur-Tree is the obligatory Huge Fucking Fantasy Tree (and its surrounding forest). It’s a mass of vegetation about a mile tall and almost as old as Plant Life Itself, its upper branches are primeval plants, which become more modern the nearer they get to the ground (and each 'level' holds tiny ecosystems, some containing descendants of LONG-extinct arthropods/other small animals). Its lowest branches and the surrounding forest are contemporary plant life, and all is connected and protected by an incomparably MASSIVE fungal mycelium network (which is itself a living god).
A lot of the Scholars' more secretive practices revolve around experimentation with substance use with the goal of expanding the Mind and transcending the body to fully connect to the Dreamlands, and they have a supply chain of traders and mercenaries called Rootrunners who traffic substances into the Lowlands. Most of their psychoactive use is in a very intentional capacity and not just like, for fun, but a LOT of them are just straight up addicted to cocaine (in the form of alchemically refined bruljenum, which is used for practical purposes of its stimulant effect during long hours of work).
All known psychoactives are desirable for experimentation (particularly hallucinogens), with each having properties that either allow expansion of the Mind, transcendence of the body, or outright divine communion. Their effects are logged in great detail and interpreted to form the basis of the Scholars' understanding of the natural world and reality itself.
The most important substance is Ur-Root, which is root matter from subterranean levels of the Ur-Tree that have both their own intrinsic psychoactive substances and a very, very high concentration of living god mycelium. The tree root contains DMT and the mycelium has its own wholly unique effects (being an actual living god). They alchemically refine it into a purer, more potent form, and use it to expand beyond the body and directly commune with the Giants, a group of entities they have identified as the only true gods.
An Ur-Root trip starts off with minor visual distortion, which turns into shifting fractals that slowly obscure the vision. Eventually the senses are entirely taken over by a 'tunnel' of rapidly shifting fractals and geometries. In a complete trip, the experiencer gets a sense that they have been pushed through a membrane and entered another realm, finding themselves in a distinct experiential Space.
At this point they may encounter entities which communicate to them in a language impossible to describe but wholly understood. These beings are understood to be the Giants, or at least aspects of the Giants that mortals are capable of comprehending (they often take familiar tutelary forms of the Mantis or the Snake, or appear resembling the same type of sophont that the experiencer is, all composed of ever-shifting geometries). The experiencer often feels a sense of unconditional and endless love from these beings, though the Giants may be more hostile and may appear in the form of the Trickster (usually a cultural figure regarded as malicious, be it an animal or otherwise) in a bad trip.
(^Up until this point, this has mostly just been a DMT 'breakthrough' experience ft. 'machine elves' and the like).
They are then removed from this space and returned to something that feels like the real world, but is nearly unrecognizable. They have a sense of rapidly moving through time, and will usually see 'the spires' towards the beginning, which just so happen to look like this:
(source + some context via Implication- the spires are exactly what this art is depicting)
The experiencer continues to move across an unfathomable amount of time, occasionally 'seeing' other such flashes of unfamiliar landscapes and creatures, and yet also being devoid of all their senses, the 'seeing' is pure, unfiltered experience. There is a sense of interconnectedness with all life, and that one has become the forest (or even Life) itself. The sense of time is wildly distorted, the trip lasts only about 5 minutes but feels like an eternity and is understood as literal hundreds of millions of years.
The experiencer has usually lost any remaining sense of Self and individual consciousness during this phase (in which case this time distortion is usually a neutral or even peaceful experience), but some retain a fraction of their identity, and find themselves trapped and conscious while experiencing what feels like eternity (which can be LIFE-CHANGINGLY distressing, even after the fact).
(^This latter part of the trip is the effects of the Ur-Tree fungus).
The trip ends with a sense of rushing through the ground and back up into one's body, at which point they will abruptly return to their senses and consciousness. The details are then immediately retrieved via interview and recorded in immense detail. The whole experience is understood as having been full comprehension of the Dreamlands, communion with the Giants, and then a tour through the act of creation.
This is done as part of the initiatory practice into the inner mystery-religion of the scholars, and as needed for study by high scholar-priests. It is not taken lightly, both as it is absolute communion with the gods and reality, and in that it can be a very, very difficult experience. People who have gone through this often walk away with a permanently shifted perspective, often in a positive and/or comforting way- a sense of interconnectedness with all life, a peace with the concept of death, seeing less of a point in individual ego and the concept of Self, and comfort in the sense of divine love they (may have) experienced. This heavily influences the philosophy of the Scholars and has had effects by proxy in the religious worldviews of the region.
Details of this experience are closely guarded, and initiates are given absolutely no prior knowledge and expectations for their trip. This is seen as a necessity- their naivety will allow for a true, unfiltered experience, and can be used to gauge whether they should or should not be accepted. Those that have a distinctly bad trip upon initiation may be assumed to have been 'rejected' by the giants and thus denied full priesthood, though this largely depends on How they interpret their distressing trip- those who identify this as a test and harsh lesson in a journey to enlightenment may be accepted (as this is how fully initiated scholar-priests interpret and handle their bad trips).
This inner priesthood is only a small fraction of the Scholarly Order, and its greater function is as a hub of education and repository of knowledge, and Scholar-trained doctors can provide some of the best medical care available in the setting ('best medical care in this setting' only means so much but it's pretty solid, relatively speaking). Only a chosen few Scholars ever get to commune with the Ur-Root, and most of the divine secrets revealed in the process are kept hidden (though they indirectly influence the politics and worldview of the entire order).
#I'm kind of fascinated by the quasi-religious beliefs that have developed around recreational hallucinogen use (ESPECIALLY DMT)#In contrast to like. Uses of DMT-containing substances like ayahuasca for long-established religious purposes#So this concept is basically 'what if a religion was FORMED from pretty much the ground up out of DMT usage'#Like the common 'entities' people encounter in recreational use being identified as the Real Gods and producing a religious worldview#that is mostly rooted in this experience (while still influenced by other cultural factors)#Also the like. Meta going on here is that the fungus is a 'living god' and the oldest one on the planet#It is a VERY rare type of living god that is 'created' by non-sophont (non-sentient even) beings and exists as a mycelial network#that perfectly supports and protects an entire forest. Basically a god for plants. It is so deeply interconnected with its forest that the#usual power sophont belief would have over it has basically zero influence. This is absolutely the closest thing to A God in canon.#(While still not being a Creator/sapient/or even supernatural within the framework of this reality. Just VERY unique.)#The Ur-Tree has always been above water and grows very very slowly over the course of millenia by kind of 'pulling up' plant life from#the ground (so you see ancient long extinct plants in its higher branches and contemporary plants close to/on the ground)#The mycelium helps shield and feed extinct plant life that could not otherwise survive in the contemporary environment#And the forest is big enough to produce its own weather (it is a rainforest and has been ever since the capacity for rainforests Existed)#It's not really a tree at all in any normal sense but an amalgam of thousands of types of plants-#Some growing on top of others and some interwoven beyond any distinction. It does form a superficially treelike structure#(mostly in order to physically support its own mass) with a very wide 'trunk' and massive 'roots' (which end in actual roots).#It feeds on its own perpetually shedding and decaying 'body' and any animal life that dies in the forest is VERY rapidly#decayed and absorbed by the mycelial network (to the point that many large scavengers cannot survive in this forest)#(If you kill a cow and leave it on the ground for just 1/2 hour you'll see little strands of mycelium already growing up around it)#The fungus fruits and spores on a very infrequent basis (scale of ten-thousands of years) which causes the forest to very slowly spread#Fortunately this isn't really an existential threat because the spread is VERY slow (even on a geological scale) and the fungus#itself is rather mundane in nature and cannot usually compete against established fungal networks in other places.#Though there are little Ur-Tree mycelium groves and woodlands in other parts of the world that may (over untold millennia)#generate their own Ur-Trees (there's already a few but they are all MUCH smaller and not readily recognized as the same thing)#WRT THE TRIP:#Most of what I'm describing is a DMT trip but consumption of high doses of Ur-Tree mycelium has both mundane psychoactive effects#and IS kind of the person experiencing the fungus' entire lifetime and seeing flashes of the world's actual evolutionary history.#The amount of material knowledge that can be accurately gleaned from this this is VERY limited though.
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