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imagines-for-earthbread · 10 months

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Can I get something romantic between warlord longan and dread trident sea fairy? (Both are lesbians)

The ocean was deeper than they remembered. Long did the trenches at the bottom of the ocean extend, ever darker and ever deeper, ever heavier as it pressed down upon them. They felt it in their scales as they breathed and as they moved, even though the dim trill of magic still hummed in their lungs and prolonged their life. They weren't a swimmer, but they swam now, in search of anything that existed anymore, even if it wasn't gilded gold or ever touched by the rays of the sun.

They didn't know what they were looking for. Something alive? --Certainly, the ocean here teamed with its own particular breed of life. Ancient fish and creatures whose shapes held up under this oppressive pressure, who were both clear and glimmered with their own particular brand of bioluminescence whose purpose served to lure prey closer. They would have to struggle less to find food in the dark that way.

Or something ancient and forgotten? There were many shipwrecks in the ocean, pirate ships and cargo boats that found themselves a necessary end. Cookie skeletons slumbered at the bottom of the sea, sugar bones cracked and frayed and perhaps nothing by now, if the years of observing the whalefall were anything to take into account. A ship didn't harbor as necessary an ecosystem as a whale did. Cookies were too small--too insignificant--to matter much down here. And that was only if their bodies made it down this deep in the first place.

They spent years diving the depths of the world, taking in the wildlife that existed subservient to dragons. They found Sugarteara and tore it to pieces mightily, cookies and shrapnel sharp upon their tongue, coral buildings torn to pieces by tail and claw. They hadn't caught every Sugartearan cookie in the slaughter. Some of them, even, managed to flee, scattered across the ocean like motes of dust in a high wind.

Perhaps that's what Longan Dragon Cookie was searching for: The survivors.

Fish, treasure, or stragglers... It was impossible to tell anymore.

Their eyes couldn't adjust to the darkness that permeated so deep without the aid of a dim, golden magic. Their lythe, draconic form wound its way, serpentine, ever deeper, twisting into the underwater canyons and gullies below. Their claws scraped against the smooth stone walls worn away by a millena of salty current and water wear.

They could hear their nails scratching at its surface more clearly now than ever--the noise was louder under the water, and the dense pressure only served to amplify it. They could almost hear their very own bones creaking and hear the shifting of their leathery scales rubbing against each other. They could hear the ichor flowing in them from the tip of their nose to the tip of their tail.

And they heard the sound of nothing--nothing, that was, except the sound of pressure, the noise of the ocean itself breathing.

They snuffled their snout against the earth at their side, snorted, and dug their claws in deeper, determined to leave their mark. They were here. And in a million years, they would come back and leave this mark down here again, fresh and deep, because there was nothing left to do. The world was empty.

The world was quiet.

At the bottom of the trench lay a gently swirling expanse of dusky sea brine, of which the haze beneath concealed the true bottom of the ocean floor. Longan Dragon Cookie paused here, golden eyes shining light and making the cloudy mass almost seem to glow with an apparent halo. It looked like the sunlight reflecting off of the clouds, only salty, wet, and dense. This was where the heaviest matter collected at the bottom of the ocean. Testily, Longan Dragon Cookie extended their paw, reaching inside to press down to find there was no immediate ground to stand upon. The trench extended deeper than life and deeper than sight.

A noise reverberated all around them suddenly, echoing loudly off of the ever-narrow walls of the trenches and leaving a dim ripple of water flowing east in its wake. It sounded like the ocean--not something cracking and breaking all at once, falling to the bottom of the ocean floor, but moreso the humming of an ancient song, one that only Earthbread itself could possibly know. Something about it seemed familiar to Longan, though they couldn't quite place it.

Longan twisted their head in the direction of the noise, bracing themself upon the precipice that dipped into the briney sea, weighted down upon by pressure and cold. For all their sense of sight, they couldn't see particularly far ahead of themself. It probably wouldn't have done much in the first place.

The noise didn't stop. It rumbled within the earth, tingling their claws and sending shivers down the length of their body, from the tip of their nose to the tip of their tail. It shuddered in the air with every ancient note, a siren's call that sang an ancient song of love.

To investigate or to draw themself back?

Well. Longan Dragon Cookie had conquered the world with a mighty swiftness and resolve, dragging the world from a golden age of pathetic, crumbling cookies to the golden age of dragons sprang anew. If life could exist, even down here--if this was a song being sang by a cookie of any form--even if it seemed unlikely that any cookie life could exist this far down, they knew what they had to do.

Powerful legs and a serpentine body snaked its way through the water, defying the laws of gravity, twisting its way through the current. The noise only grew louder, raising in volume, not for lack of becoming louder on its own but for how distant it apparently was. It followed the sea of brine--a sea so long that at some point, they were willing to call it a giant's river instead. The darkness was cold, and it was difficult to see farther than a short distance ahead of them. They found themself hugging the wall of the trench more often than they didn't.

They didn't know how long they swam. Hours, perhaps--it felt like it might have been days. Time was impossible to measure down here, unless one wanted to waste the effort to keep count of seconds and minutes and hours themself. Longan was not one of those creatures. After all, they had all the time in the world now.

As they swam, the taste of the brine seemed to grow thicker, punctuating the water with a taste so dense one could choke on it. They thought at first they were hallucinating how the brine seemed to rise as they traveled, but eventually there came a time that even they had to admit they were wrong.

They traveled for many hours--until, finally, a most peculiar sight met their eyes: A wall of brine, filtering slowly down, in a manner not dissimilar to a waterfall. Longan Dragon Cookie sniffed at the air, magically artificial gills flaring, head lifting in defiance of gravity. Gravity itself threatened to pull them under for how much the water tried to strangle them--they had to kick their feet with great aggression to not sink deeper before they were ready.

The song by now had stopped, the water stilling with the silence of nothing save the beating of a dragon's heart and the breathing of the ocean. Longan gazed upward, estimating the likelihood that the brine was pouring from somewhere above. It was easier to go down than it was go go up, they decided--and besides, it's not like they had anywhere to go but up or back the way they came, anyway. Twisting their body to face upwards, they began to swim in the serpentine manner that their cousins swam upon the air in the far-off tundra.

They thought of their corpses, intermingled in the midst of a fierce battle that ended up leaving the earth flowing red with the flow of dragon jam. They died protecting each other--protecting the cookies that they saw fit worthy to protect--and for what? Nobody would remember them now except as the villains who stood in the way of the re-emergence of the glory of dragons. It was a fitting end for the greater good. They knew not the forces they toyed with.

After a long, long while of swimming upward, taking rest at perches they found along the way, eventually they found they could rise no more. The brine filtered in from somewhere in the cavern wall, which meant there was a hole that led elsewhere. Longan Dragon Cookie's tail lashes furiously, glowering at the brine that drifted steadily downward and tumbled upon itself in slow motion. What a waste of time, they thought with disgust. And they were about to leave when all at once the song of the sea resonated once again.

It was louder here--loudest, even. The source of the noise seemed to come from wherever the source of this brine was.

Longan's tail thrashed, body dancing contemplatively before the brine. Fine, they eventually concluded. They'd come this far. What would be the point if they retreated now? Taking a deep breath of water, Longan Dragon Cookie flattened their gills shut (a feat that wasn't easy and took a great deal of concentration in itself) and dove forward.

It was very thick--so thick, it was viscous. The tunnel they twisted through was large enough to fit their body, but it was impossible to see and seemed even more impossible to work through. More than once, Longan found themself pausing, taking a moment to register from what direction the brine came by sensing the dim pull of the current. It seemed to bring them ever-upward. They held their breath so long that their lungs burned. They held their breath for so long that they had to breathe, and they sucked in water that was more salt than it was water and half as fluid. It burned in their gills, sharp and painful, rubbing the fragile flesh beneath raw and tender.

The song was still singing when Longan breached the surface of the brine, clawing their way through the final gap and finding themself finally drifting above it all. They opened their gills and breathed, heavy at first, and then softer. Already, they found themself bring dragged down by gravity once more, but it felt easier to move from where they currently rested, though it was no less difficult to see. There was no light here--none from above--though looking down, the brine on the ocean floor seemed to glow the palest of teals.

The song rocked softly, so loud that their head buzzed from the noise. It sounded louder to their right, so they angled their head in that direction and began to swim to investigate.

They drifted close. Closer. The golden light shining off of their eyes illuminated what lay ahead dimly, until they could see the face of what looked to be some kind of statue--the statue of the beautiful face of a young woman, one who looked so distantly familiar, Longan could swear they should have been able to remember her name. And yet the song of the sea seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within the statue, playing like the distant memory of a lullaby.

Before Longan could think too much of it, the statue suddenly moved. Soft, quiet eyes suddenly stared back at them, and the music that the sea had been singing all this time faded all at once.

Longan flinched backwards for a moment, alarmed, but didn't draw too far back. Recognition snapped into place in their mind all at once--the song of the sea a song that sailors used to sing on the ocean when they missed their loved ones at home. The thick sea of brine that twisted like rivers in the trenches of the sea, the very same brine that fell from her head like hair. The tale of the Sea Fairy, how she loved the moon so fiercely she never stopped trying to reach the cookie she loved, until finally she did and disappeared thousands of years ago.

This was where she disappeared to.

She stared at them for a long moment, the living embodiment of water staring deeply into their own eyes with a chronic lack of fear that either came from ignorance or dismissal. The brine glowed stronger now, as if awoken from a deep sleep of its own, shimmering a cold teal and allowing Longan to finally see for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She was silent. They were, too.

"I thought you were somebody else for a moment," Sea Fairy murmured, her eyes drooping tiredly. The glow of the ocean floor eased, but didn't go away entirely.

Longan answered: "The depths of the ocean is far too deep for any light from the sky to reach."

"I know," came the quiet answer--quiet, though it still trembled loudly in the air. She shifted, her eyes sliding away from them and drifting to the side, a spark of some unnameable emotion Longan never cared to consider slipping onto her face for a moment.

"So this," Longan Dragon Cookie noted, gazing about the empty ocean themself, "is where you have been hiding all of this time, brooding because you could never reach the unreachable dreamer." It wasn't a question--it was a statement of fact.

Sea Fairy hummed, the sound not dissimilar to the song they'd heard in their search to find the source. The song of love. Were Longan Dragon Cookie not fully aware of just whose domain they resided in, they likely would have scoffed.

"You have dived quite deep," she murmured finally, "to have come here." Carefully, her eyes slipped back over to them, her brow lightly furrowed as she gazed upon the comparatively small dragon. "I wish that you hadn't."

"I certainly didn't descend these depths to find you," Longan proclaimed, searching the ocean floor for a distant island that could be deemed at a safe distance. There was none. "I followed the sound of the sea's song of love, and it brought me here. That is all."

"What are you doing so deep in the first place?" she asked, moving. Longan Dragon twisted back, scowling, but she continued to move her arm, slowly extending a cupped hand, assumedly for them to perch upon. As if they would. "You're no manner of sea dragon."

The bubbles rose from Longan's snout in a shimmering gesture, eyes shifting from hand to face to general demeanor. Her hair fell slowly in waves, blanketing the bottom of the ocean floor in a salty teal that glowed with the power of her magic. Somehow it made her seem paler, framing her face and making it almost seem to glow like the face of the moon on a clear night--all except for her eyes, dark and carefully neutral like the depths of a somber sea.

She was beautiful, they thought.

"I could ask the same," they answered briskly, turning their head aside but still keeping their eye on the waking legend. "But we already know that reason. Don't we?"

Sea Fairy Cookie blinked.

"Is that why you're here, then?" she asked, voice humming like the the curling currents. "To relish in fate's decision to leave you lonely?"

Longan Dragon opened their mouth to speak, but paused, grimacing--an out-of-character action that took them by surprise. But there was something to it that troubled them, rearing its ugly head and hissing with agony and frustration. For several long moments, Longan Dragon Cookie puzzled over it, eyes flickering slowly and warily over the oceanic hue surrounding them.

And then it hit them.

'Alone'.

In all of Longan Dragon Cookie's efforts to expunge the world of all cookie life, they've found themself alone. In electing to live their life in accordance to the superiority of dragonkind, they've also turned away from their very own family--their dragon kin, their brood, their heart. How disgustingly attached to mortal musings they had been. How spiteful and angry they were to turn Longan's vision for the future away.

They'd seen these events unfold. They knew this song and dance. As far as they were concerned, it was worth a millennium of loneliness, if it meant destroying the cookies who were destroying the world and the legacy left behind by dragons everywhere.

But now they were facing the consequences.

And here they were, facing the unforeseen--a living goddess hiding beneath the sea, for a thousand years hence, unable to face her own loneliness in her longing for the sleeping moon.

Briskly, Longan's tail thrashed back and forth, claws digging into the stone to keep themself rooted in place. "I made my decision long ago," they hissed, vile and contemptuous, turning their head to glare at the queen of the sea. Such a shame that it wasn't quite so easy to turn the very sea itself into stone.

She met their gaze for a long, silent moment that was only as silent as a dragon's heart beat. It was only as silent as the static noise of the ocean floor. Somewhere leagues away, a whale hit the bottom of the ocean floor, alone and dead.

She closed her eyes and shifted her head, the light of her magic flickering subtly.

"I did, as well," she whispered. "A long, long time ago."

She really was beautiful, Longan decided. They wondered whether the moon saw her face looking up toward the sky, eyes meeting eyes in desperate want to hold her hands and dance together rather than miles upon miles away from each other. Had Moonlight seen her--seen her reaching out her hands toward the sky from atop her tower, trying to do something so small as to be acknowledged once more by her love?

Or had Moonlight merely slept through it all, peaceful and unawares, as uncaring to the sea's pull as a cream wolf was to it's freshly-killed meal?

"Perhaps," Sea Fairy breathed, drawing Longan grudgingly from their thoughts, "if you don't mind... perhaps we can be lonely together. Just for a while."

She lifted her hand once again. Unlike her face, it was dark, like the abyss of the sea swallowed the light and refused to grant it purchase. They hadn't noticed it when she lifted her hand before, and they hadn't noticed when she moved her hand back to her side.

Dubiously, Longan turned their attention toward her face once more, taking in the expression of her eyes, the movements of her face. Perhaps she was trying not to sound desperate. Who knew how long she'd spent in these depths in an exile of her own making, cold and alone?

Who knew how long it'd take for Longan to find company of their own, in the world above the sea where their pairs of eyes could see?

They knew.

"Very well," they scoffed. "If only for a time."

Gradually, they lifted themself up and swam to Sea Fairy's waiting hand. They nestled there uneasily, muscles tense and poised to spring away at the slightest sense that danger was afoot. But her hand didn't move, and it was oddly warm to be held by the hand of a cookie god where the sun never touched and warmth only came from volcanic vents along the sea floor.

They hoped, then, that they didn't sound desperate.

#mod dark cacao writes #sea fairy cookie #longan dragon cookie #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #angst #romance #sort of a character study i suppose #apologies for the late answer I've been working on this on and off for about. a week. maybe more #idk how much romance you wanted between them but i figured #there's nothing more romantic than relating to someone and letting yourself be comfortable in their company #let me know if i accidentally misgendered longan at any point #i struggle with that sometimes and it's absolutely not on purpose if i did

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carterthefrog · 4 months

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sometimes i think a little too hard about how percy jackson started as bedtime stories that rick riordan would tell his son when he was being bullied for his adhd and dyslexia because he wanted to let his kid know that he could also be a hero. and how after his first books were so successful he started to realize that there are lots of kids out there who don't see themselves in any heroes because of various other aspects of themselves, and he doesn't want any kid to feel like how his did, so he started writing heroes that were poc and gay and religious minorities and homeless and genderqueer and physically disabled and from an array of different cultures and he just made it his absolute mission to make sure every single kid could see themselves in his universe. about how the primary purpose of these books is to make kids feel a little bit less alone, and how the percy jackson books are so well loved because they are, themselves, an act of love. percy jackson came into existence as an act of love towards his struggling son and this story grew and expanded into what it is today because so many kids needed that same kind of love, and even those of us that aren't kids anymore still find a home in a story that was made for that exact purpose. and then i cry.

#percy jackson #pjo #rick riordan #riordanverse #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #the kane chronicles

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fyorina · 3 months

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ᡣ𐭩 ALWAYS!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: taking care of a certain suicidal detective is thankless work—or so, that's what everyone says at least, including dazai himself, but you're not as convinced. (wordcount: 1.8k; sfw, mentions of dazai's struggles w depression & self-care; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dazaiiiii <3

Dazai chronically neglects his physical health.

You don't know if it's on purpose or not, you don't think it really matters either way, although some of your coworkers beg to differ in the way that they chide you for "encouraging" his behavior when you go out of your way to take care of him when he refuses to do so himself. Kunikida thinks that he’ll never learn to take care of himself if he constantly has you there as a fallback, but you think it's a bit ridiculous to not extend a hand to someone who is clearly struggling. You know Kunikida means well for Dazai, and he often goes out of his way himself to help the man in his own ways, but sometimes it's not as simple as having to "learn to take care of yourself" and you fear that if no one's there to set him straight when he starts to disregard his health, it'll just turn into another suicide attempt and you'll all be scrambling to help him when his body gives in because it's too weak to sustain itself.

Sometimes, he neglects himself in major ways. Frequently, you catch him going all day without eating, sometimes days if you don’t notice it right away, all because he claims that he’s not hungry. He rarely cleans his wounds properly after missions and they end up getting infected, and that’s always a mess because then he starts whining about "this type of death being too painful" and Yosano has to spend hours treating him.

Days like today, he neglects himself in minor ways—ways that he thinks he can get away with because no one cares enough to scold him over every little thing.

No one except you, at least.

It’s bitterly cold outside, the wind is harsh and dry, and the heat in the office has utterly failed. Usually, the president would let you guys go back to the dorms rather than let you suffer in the cold, but the case the office is handling is time-sensitive, and you need to at least set up the preparations for the infiltration mission that’s going to take place in a few days.

Dazai is late, of course, and Kunikida is even more irritated than usual because if all hands were on deck for this, you’d all be able to head back to the dorm earlier. You’re a bit annoyed too, honestly, because your fingers are freezing and your nose is cold, but you figure that Dazai is going to get enough shit from Kunikida anyway.

The door to the office cracks open—speak of the devil, you think to yourself—and your eyes cut upward to where Dazai is peeking into the office, as if to see if Kunikida was waiting for him. Luckily, the president called the irate blonde and Tanizaki into his office to go over the specifics of the infiltration.

“Dazai,” you say, shooting him a flinty look. “You’re late.”

“Bella,” he tosses you a charming smile—one that never works, mind you, but he never fails to try. “I have a good excuse, you see.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” you press. “Let me hear it”

“Ha, well…” he trails off, and your expression drops when he finally steps into the office and you see he’s only wearing his thin tan trench coat.

“Dazai, what are you wearing?” you ask, appalled. You’re bundled up in your winter jacket and a scarf and you’re still freezing—and you’ve worn Dazai’s coat often enough to know that there’s absolutely zero insulation or protection from the winds.

Dazai gives a look that’s eerily reminiscent of a dog that knows it did something bad, brown eyes just a bit too wide and the corner of his lips turned downward. He makes his way over to his desk, right next to your own, and you notice how he’s violently shivering, face bright red and lips so dry and chapped that they seem to be bleeding.

Your eye twitches in irritation, Dazai gives you a sheepish smile and then winces as his bottom lip splits and blood dribbles over his lips.

“You’re an absolute moron,” you hiss and rise to your feet. “Sit down.”

You all but storm over to the break room, rifling through the closet to find the blanket you stored in there a while back for Kunikida when he decides to stay over at the office to finish up work. It’s fluffy, and warm, and entirely not meant for Dazai’s idiocy but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Yosano gives you an amused look when she sees you gathering the blanket in your arms as she passes by the break room.

“You know, I bet he does this just because he likes when you fuss over him,” she says offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe as she watches you kick the closet door back shut.

“Well, it’s either fussing over him or letting him go off and get himself killed,” you scowl, making your way out of the break room back toward Dazai, who’s sitting dutifully where you left him.

“That’s so unfair,” Ranpo immediately complains. “I asked for the blanket earlier and you said no, you can’t just give it to Dazai because he’s your boyfriend.”

“First of all, I can give my blanket to whoever I want, maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my tootsie rolls, Ranpo,” you say, ignoring the way Ranpo raises his chin indignantly. “Second of all, Dazai is not my boyfriend, he is just incompetent at life.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ranpo scoffs. “The day you two get together is the day the entire office can finally be at peace. We’re sick of the pining.”

You gape, picking up a stray desktop tape and flinging it at Ranpo’s head. Ranpo dodges with a cackle, letting it soar past him and into the wall. You glare at him and return your attention to Dazai, not even saying a word as you bundle the fluffy blanket around him until it’s fully covering his thin, shivering form.

You notice that his neck is still uncovered, both skin and bandages visible—red and frigid from the wind outside. Brows knit together, you unwrap your scarf from your neck and wrap it around his neck neatly.

You think it’s a bit cute the way he’s staring up at you, bundled in thick blankets and your scarf, but you’ll never admit that.

You frown as your eyes dart down to his chapped, bleeding lips. You dab at the wet blood with a tissue before letting out a sharp sigh, wandering back over to your desk and grabbing your lip balm from your drawer. You take a step closer to Dazai again, he watches curiously as you reach out to tilt his head up.

The skin of his cheek is cold beneath your fingers and you stroke it absently, trying to warm it up a bit, before you bring the lip balm up to your lips, biting the cap to take it off before dropping it back down in your hand and placing it in your pocket.

Dazai is uncharacteristically quiet as he watches you bring the lip balm up to his lips. You trace the outline of his lips with the balm, gentle over where they had cracked from dryness and the cold. You can feel his warm breath against your hand and you try to ignore his proximity because no, Dazai is not your boyfriend, but sometimes you wish he is—for all of his quirks and as much as he frustrates you, you care for him desperately.

And when he’s like this, pliant under under your touch as he lets you take care of him, watching you with wide eyes filled with an indecipherable, adoring emotion… You feel it all the more intensely.

Your touch lingers for a moment as you finish coating his lips with the lip balm before you finally let your hands fall to your sides.

“Not dating my ass,” Naomi snorts from across the room, still blatantly watching the two of you, as if you were some reality entertainment. You scowl at her and throw a pen in her direction, she only giggles and tosses you a wink.

You shake your head and take a seat back down at your desk, putting your lip balm away and about to go back to working on the research for the infiltration mission. Before you can focus, Dazai scooches his chair closer to you.

His cheeks are still flushed pink from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and his lips are shiny from your lip balm. He leans in a bit and you raise your eyebrows a bit in amusement.

“Yes?” you ask quietly, lips tilted up in a small smile.

Dazai doesn’t answer for a moment, his eyes are glittering in a way that you know is dangerous but you don’t move away like you probably should. Instead, you stay still as he leans in a bit more and captures your lips in a soft kiss. It’s brief and gentle, no more than two or three seconds long, and his lips are terribly chapped and tasting of your lip balm, but it has your heart stuttering in your chest and your face feeling hot. You can hear Naomi gasp in delight, clapping her hands together, Yosano let out a deafening whoop of a cat call and Ranpo cry a loud finally!

Dazai leans back—his eyes are still shining and his lips are turned up. He looks as if he’s about to say something but before he can, the door to Fukuzawa’s office slams open and Kunikida storms out of it: “You shitty waste of bandages! You’re two hours late!”

“Not now, Kunikida!” Yosano says loudly, intercepting the man before he can rip Dazai right out of his chair. She pushes him toward the break room, throwing the two of you a grin and a wink. You shake your head a bit in amusement.

The moment is ruined, but Dazai is undeterred, finally speaking up.

“Let me take you out later, bella?” Dazai asks, voice quiet and teasing as he rests his chin on his hand, leaning on his desk as he looks over at you.

You laugh. “The only place you’re going later is back to your apartment because you’re going to be sick, Dazai.”

Dazai pouts, over-exaggerated and dramatic but then he amends, a bit more softly, “Take care of me later?”

Your smile is gentle now as you reply with: "Always.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff

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blippymilk · 5 months

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Brozone (+ Poppy & Viva) x Touch Starved Fem! Reader

Ok the request is that the reader is a touch starved, easily flustered, insecure yet passionate female. Her hair can change based on how she’s feeling. She likes to rant and info dump a lot. She likes drawing herself and her loved ones, and gives small gifts as a form of affection or to make them feel better. There will be a friend and s/o version.

(I’m also really sorry if this is not to the liking of the request, I kind of struggled while making this 😭)

John Dory:

Friend:

- As your friend he’s a little concerned for you

- Like he knows your fine but sometime he worries 😭

- But nothing JD can’t handle

- Genuinely enjoys your little gifts but he never makes it obvious at first

“Hey JD look I made you a little gift.” :)

“Oh that’s sweet. Can you put it on my desk? I’ll look at it later.”

- One day him and his brothers were rough housing around while you Poppy, and Viva stood by cheering them on. Bruce gets a little too rough with him and knocks something out of his jacket, it was your gift

- This man stops everything

- Like everything

- Like everyone’s frozen in place no matter what stance they’re in

- And picks it up and places it gently back in the pockets inside his jacket then lectures the boys about how he could’ve gotten his belongings crushed 😭

S/O:

- Still worries about you even after being together

- Sometimes the way your emotions change with your hair startles him

- And that’s mostly because your emotions can change rapidly

- But he also finds it really funny

- So prepare for his scare attacks

- Your hair gets so spiky, and you get so mad

“Oh come on I was only playing around babe. Tell you what, I’ll find a better way to mess with your hair.”

- And he did, which was by flustering you with comments that boost your confidence

- Your face turns red and your hair poofs up then falls around your head

- You’re always muttering a lot just like Viva and Poppy and JD finds it hilarious that him, Branch, and Clay are in the same boat (not saying Clay and Viva are not dating jus to clarify 😭)

Floyd:

Friend:

- Loves having a friend that’s the complete opposite of him

- He’ll listen to you rant all day

- With feedback on every question and statement

- Also finds your hair amusing but won’t abuse it’s power on purpose like John 😭

- Shocked by your passion to draw

“Is that me and you?”

“You know it.”

“I love it.” 🥹

S/O:

- Absolutely head over heels for you

- Still would be into listening to you rant but he’s helping you calm down a bit more

- Now your drawings had a more romantic reference behind them and he loved them even more

- No matter where he goes he always has one of your pictures on him

- He carries it around and values it like cash

- And absolutely none of his (little) brothers are getting their hands on it (yes he’s aware that they’re all adults now)

Spruce Bruce

Friend:

- He’s an expert on hair so he’s not too shocked or anything

- I mean look at that fluff on his head

- Seeing as Bruce could handle so many kids in the movie I believe he could deal with a ranting partner just fine

- He knows how to avoid frustration with you

S/O:

- Finds everything you do cute (c’mon it’s Bruce)

- He loves your arts & crafts

- Probably more than you

- Just like John he likes to you see you flustered with that big frizz on your head

- Your hair is constantly poofy because this man never stopsssss

“Hey (____) did it hurt when you fell?”

“Huh?”

“When you fell. From heaven?”

“Bruce you’re litteraly gonna kill me and my hair…”

- Definitely helps you get the knots out afterward 😭

Clay:

Friends:

- He hangs around Viva so the rambling is nothing new to him

- Always tries to hide you from Viva because he knows you two would be a unstoppable force ( plus poppyyyyy?!?)

- Hates when you feel insecure in any kind of way possible

- So just like you leave him little sketches, he leaves little notes of affirmations for you to read

- And makes you read them

- Outloud

“I am so pretty, beautiful, smart, talente- Clay do I have to keep-”

“Keep going.”

“Ok but-”

- Extremely intense eye contact

sighhhhhhhh “I am talented, I am kind, I am loyal…”

S/O:

- One of the most respectful boyfriends in the world

- Eventually gives in and let’s you and Viva mingle (possibly a bad descion!!??)

- Astonished by what your hair is capable of (can’t show his excitement tho cause he’s not a fun boy anymore right?)

- He is a words of affection (and physical touch sjejkemsjks) kinda guy so as your boyfriend he’s all you could ask for

- So now your attached to this man like glue and it’s kind of his fault

- Has to pry you off sometime but he will never stop loving you the same

“I love youuuuuu.”

“I love youuuuuu too.”

Branch:

Friend:

- Just like Clay he’s friends with Poppy so he’s used to the talking behavior (no Boppy in thissss 😔)

- You guys didn’t exactly hit it off at first either

- You met him during his “no color” era so that makes most of the sense

- ntgl when he first finds out about your hair he’s thrown off

- And the other trolls had so much fun with it that he considered you a distraction from the bergens soooo he wasn’t too fond of you

- And it takes a while but eventually you both become inseparable

“You hated me for no reason, and now I’m your favorite.”

“Yeah yeah.”

S/O:

- He’s growing as in character development

- So now instead of getting upset he uses your hair to read you

- He never really knows when he’s doing anything right or wrong as far as the relationship so he depends on your hair to know which path to take

- Your info dumping soothes him, wether he likes it or not

- He plays it off subtly but he knows how to fluster you and he takes pride in that (*AHEM* SINGING)

Poppy:

Friend:

- Doesn’t even realize that you’re rambling cause she’s doing it too

- You both are a special duo that at one point drove Branch up a tree (no pun intended)

- As much as the trolls like you, they don’t realize how actually dangerous you two could be together 😭

- And you can imagine the fear on Branch’s face when he finds out Viva and Poppy are sisters

S/O:

- Everyone knows Poppy is a scrapbooking master so when she begins to receive little arts and crafts from you she’s in love

- Like she’s bouncing off the wall excited

- Literally (it’s Poppy)

- She’s superrr touchy-feely so your living your best life

- Your hair is so fun and amusing to her

- Like JD she might try to scare you a couple times to see your hair spike up for fun but cuddles you after

“I’m sorry sweetieeee you know I can’t help it. Your hair is just so fun!”

“Poppyyyy you say that everytimeeee!”

Viva:

Friends:

- Basically Poppy’s doppelgänger so what can you expect?!

- Always rambling but somehow always manages to do it more than you

- She might just be you plus Poppy times five

- Clay tried to help you hide your hair for the sake of you and Viva

- Unfortunately she popped up out of nowhere startling you both and causing your hair to go erratic

“So so sorry guys I didn’t mean to…OMG YOUR HAIR!”

S/O:

- Everything you could ask for from a girlfriend

- Like she literally could not have given you anymore

- She loves your art works

- She loves to hear you talk and join in with you

- She loves the touchy-feely type

- She literally can’t find a single flaw in you whatsoever

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shadowboxmind · 9 months

Text

Maybe a hot take, but I don't think the Traveler was being inconsistent or out of character in the last archon quest at all. People are getting upset at their reaction to Lyney and Lynette's behavior from the perspective of players, with meta knowledge of the story that the Traveler, the character, doesn't have.

The players know, for example, that because they're playable characters, Lyney and Lynette are ultimately friendly and on "our" side, and we can also trust that what they told us about their backstory is true. The Traveler does not have that knowledge.

TO BE CLEAR this post is talking about my thoughts on the TRAVELER'S thought process. If we want to talk about how I personally would have reacted to the situation, I'm an overly trusting bleeding-heart who would absolutely get scammed and probably murdered by Fatui in this universe.

(Also characters, even main characters who you normally like, can do things you disagree with and that doesn't mean they're badly written. I mean, sometimes they are, but I don't think that's true in this particular case)

But think about it! Looking at the entire situation from an in-universe, in-character POV, it's a really bad look for Lyney and Lynette overall, because here are the facts as the Traveler is aware of them:

Lyney and Lynette are not only members of the Fatui, the primary antagonistic force in this story, but are specifically members of the House of the Hearth, which is known to specialize in espionage, subterfuge, and sabotage.

Both of them also work in a field that would further require them to be masters of misdirection, audience manipulation, and drama.

They "coincidentally" ran into the Traveler right as they arrived in Fontaine and immediately began to do them favors and be very friendly, including saving them from Furina, bringing them to meet their family, and gifting them VIP tickets to Lyney's show.

During the trial, the twins withheld key information, and not just about their identities (and listen, I get it, I fully empathize with why they did it, I get the reasoning, but it's still a bad look when it gets figured out) but also about what they were doing in the tunnel.

They admitted that the entire magic show was a ruse to do, guess what? espionage! To break into the room with the Oratrice's core and find out how it works. To, through subterfuge, obtain Fontaine's secrets about the nation's most important mechanism and central source of power.

The Traveler has known these people for like, a day total.

So what conclusions might the Traveler draw from these facts? When the evidence shows that Lyney and Lynette have a record of misdirection and obfuscation for their own ends? When the Traveler has no way of knowing if even their initial meeting was orchestrated for an ulterior purpose? How are they supposed to know if the tragic backstory is even true, or if that's just Lyney trying to win back some favor and sympathy? In my opinion, at that moment, they don't. Hence the coldness.

My interpretation of events is that the Traveler does like the twins, and wanted to keep liking them, but was struggling to reconcile their initial impression of two friendly magicians with the realization that these two friendly magicians were dishonest with them for most of the time they'd known each other, so they needed to have some space to figure that out.

And for those saying the Traveler is inconsistent, here's the thing: they still helped Lyney. They still acted as his attorney, investigated thoroughly, won the case, and cleared his name. They've done similar for other Fatui members in their acquaintance—they helped Childe with Teucer, they helped Scaramouche/Wanderer with getting his memories back, they helped that other member of the House of the Hearth fake her death and escape the organization—whether or not they fully trusted them, and generally they didn't.

As for the Traveler's supposed hypocrisy, my view of their relationship with Childe is that it's only improved because, despite Childe trying to nuke Liyue in the past, the Traveler knows that

a. They can handle him if it comes down to a fight again; b. He likes them, regardless of if the feeling is mutual or not, and is indeed aggressively friendly to the point where it's easier to just be civil; c. Childe is generally upfront and honest about his actions and will strike from the front, not stab them in the back; and d. He's worked together with them before when they had a common goal (for example, the labyrinth they went through with Xinyan).

They know how his mind works and what motivates him. Childe is a known quantity, the twins are not, and it took in-story time and shared experiences for the Traveler to get to even this point of neutrality; they were openly suspicious of him during his story quest.

As for holding his Vision for him, the Traveler didn't exactly volunteer for the job, Childe literally threw it at them with no warning and peaced out. What do you expect them to do, drop it in the sea? That would be inconsistent with their characterization.

Wanderer's whole situation is even weirder, since the Traveler was able to experience his actual memories and emotions and therefore has good reason to trust that he's had a genuine change of heart. Not to mention that they're not friends, I'd argue they're in that same nebulous "neutral" zone, and that only because Nahida usually functions as a buffer (and also because, again, the Traveler knows that they can handle Wanderer in a fight, and Wanderer also tends to be blunt and honest).

Also, in Lyney's story quest it seems like everyone got over their problems pretty fast and they're all chummy now, so you can all rest easy that the twins' feelings weren't too hurt about it.

Anyways if you disagree go ham, refute my points, whatever, just keep things civil.

#is there a designated spoiler tag idk #genshin impact #4.0 spoilers #hi non genshin-liking friends i promise i won't be doing this regularly #i just like to think about character relationships #ace attorney ass quest #genuinely rather disappointed that there was no... tension between them in lyney's story quest. like at all #the last time y'all saw each other was dramatic and depressing right after his murder trial and now you're just pals 'n' buddies #and maybe more considering how heavily they imply that lyney is flirting with the traveler #maybe they'll touch on it (the Drama) in the next archon quest #now that would be inconsistent writing with the story quest but whatever #i read comics i'm used to it #shadowboxtalks #speaking of the story quest i said out loud at several points 'oh yeah you're definitely a fatuus'#all that about not forgetting debts #and 'oh yeah you're definitely from the house of the hearth'#sneaky little shits (affectionate)

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sunshine-scented · 1 year

Note

*Stand's in a corner* WHat if Nezha, redson, mk and mei had an Girlfriend/S.O that act's and looks all sweet and innocent all the time untill she's in the sheet she's the domanent one of the couple :3 thank you if you do this and how is your day going? and i send you lots of platonic kisses and friendly hugs!

There's so many Nezha request oh my gosh I'm shaking!! *Ahem* I love the sweet yet dominant reader (as you may already notice from how I depict my readers in my fics, especially on that one Nezha x servant!fic) so this will be fun. I'm happily sending platonic kisses your way too, dear ♡.

❀ A little fun won't hurt anybody, yes? ❀

: In which their darling s/o is way much more dominant than what they appear to be, taking them by surprise~♡

: MK, Mei, Redson, Nezha x fem!reader (I'm also adding Sun Wukong and Macaque as a little bonus, just for you~)

: Smut!!

Sun Wukong

He's downbad, hardcore simping

Finds it so hot whenever you get all dolled up and spit out absolute garbage towards him

One time when he were invited to this fancy banquet where all types of species can get along with each other hosted by some random deity. Of course he brought you along

Bad mistake

You looked so cute, so pretty

Yet here you are dragging your hand on his thigh, inching closer and closer to his clothed cock as you smile and giggle at the person in front of you without a care in the world

He shivers and presses his legs together in an attempt to get friction but a tight squeeze from your hand made him bite his lip to suppress a whine as you side eye him with a glare that screamed "Open your mouth, and I'm leaving you here alone with that mess"

His tail desperately clung into your leg below the table, begging for release, yet you did nothing but entertain the guest and play with his ever growing tent, pressing a finger on his bulge making him whine

The sight of the Monkey king, great sage equal to heaven. Now uncharacteristically quiet and pathetically whimpering with your fingers made you laugh

The look you gave him, with doe eyes and a fake pout asking him what's wrong as if you weren't responsible for his mess made his lose his mind ♡

"Wukong~ what's gotten you so quiet recently?" You turned your head towards your partner in mock pity as he barely responded with your hand now directly touching and rubbing his cock~

He struggled to get an answer out making you giggle in sadistic glee as you turn back to the person you were talking to with an innocent look on your face "I apologize for his behavior, the poor baby probably drank too much again" you explained with a pout

"Isn't that right, My love~♡"

Six eared Macaque

Was taken aback by how...filthy you are

He knew your pretty face couldn't be trusted, yet he fell for you anyways. Not saying he regrets it, oh no, quite the opposite

It's so amusing to him that you, a cute docile little thing, is capable of throwing and pinning him against the bed with that mischievous smirk on your face

Sometimes, he purposely riles you up just to see what kind of mess you'll turn him to when he pushes the right buttons ♡

Lingering his hands secretly all over your body, wrapping his tail around you when you want to focus, grinding and breathing into your ears saying how much he wanted you to ruin him whole~

And when you finally snap, my dear you just gave the demon what he wanted all along ♡

He's there smirking victoriously as you started to stare at him while walking closer and closer, eventually pinning him against the wall

But before he was about to say a snarky remark on how so easy you are to toy with, you pulled on his hair and snapped your hips against his making him groan and shiver

"Aw~ where's that spunk you had a while ago, mhn? Were you just all bark but no bite?" You teased him with your hips still pressed against his as you drag a finger onto his chest

He bit his lip and stared back at you with a glint in his eyes "Mmhn~ dunno, maybe you can be the judge of that ♡"

You chuckled feeling his tail wrap around your thigh as he bucks his hips towards yours, groaning at the friction "Deeming me the winner already? You're no fun" you trailed your tongue against his neck, biting and tugging on his flesh as cute little whimpers escaped his throat

"Hopefully you won't mind me re arranging your guts, yes♡?"

Poor baby is already so lovesick for you, and now you're showing him that you can be dominant? Are you trying to kill him?

He's your cute little puppy whenever you want him to be~

Always at your beck and call, always willing to give all of himself to you if you asked

He'd gladly get on all fours and let you use him as a chair while you sit and look pretty ♡

Put a collar around his neck and he's never taking it off, and when he starts to tug on it, he starts to fantasize about you and only you

Loves it when you talk absolute filth at him and then kiss him all over his face giggling on how adorable he looks taking you so well~

"MK, can you help me out with this jar? It won't open" you whined in annoyance as MK dashes towards you

"Sure!" He exclaims with a smile on his face as he easily opens the jar's lid with ease and hands it towards you making you coo at how cute he's being

You raised your hand to pat his head as he leans in closer to your touch "My obedient puppy, always so good for me~♡"

Mei

Doesn't mind it one bit! You both can look pretty together anyways and she gets to spoil you with pretty clothes and shopping sprees so it's a win-win

Finds you so cute!! She's literally your number one cheerleader at whatever you do

And when things get heated, she lets you have all of the control ♡

Especially likes it when you slowly undo her hair and start to caress her head while you're kissing her, she starts to melt and her knees turn weak

Is super giggly whenever you start to mess with her, you start to wander your hands all over her and she's here squirming on how much it tickles, making you laugh along with her

Loves to make you smile because you just look so pretty and cute and "ohmahgawdd"!!

So if it means getting on her knees and eating you out as you pull her hair, or spreading her legs wide open and inserting her fingers inside her wet pussy for you to watch, then she'll do it ♡

Called you "Mommy" as a joke at first, and now she uses it to address you in the bed, her head bucked upwards with her back arching as you play with her cunt~

"Ahhn~! M-Mommy~♡♡ It feels so g-gooddd~" gripping on the sheets so hard as she squirms in place with sweat dripping on her forehead as you snickered at her

"Yeah? Too good for you baby? Or do you want me to stop, hm?" You teased as she shook her head almost immediately

"No! Pl-Pleaseee it feels so g-good I love it so so sososo mughhchhh~♡"

Redson

Hair is set ablaze, his mind completely blank. You're what?!

He really thought you were just some ordinary girl who just looked cute and acts so innocent like an angel that he fell head first for

Before he used to be more assertive towards you, but after that night now he's the one bending to you

Definitely has a loud mouth in bed

You just make him feel so good, surely you can let him go for that reason right?

A whiner, can't change my mind

Loses his mind when he sees you in such pretty yet so lewd clothing, and when you say it's all for him to see with that mischievous smile on your face. Gosh, he's definitely going to die because of you

Gets so flustered when you call him a pet name, any type of pet name directed to him makes his face red and turns him into a stuttering mess

He has such a sensitive body, a single touch from your fingers sends shivers down his spine

With that in mind, when you trail your hands all over his body when you're kisses, he turns into this pathetic whimpering slut with his hips grinding against yours as you pull on of his legs by his thigh and hold it against your waist

When you use his ponytail to tug his head backwards if you're fucking him from behind turns him on so hard

"Baby, eyes up here yeah?" You called up to him as he tried to look up at you while you ride his cock with that condescending smirk on your face

Pathetic moans and whines escaped his throat making you laugh "Aw, my poor baby has forgotten how to speak? How adorable~♡"

He gasped as he felt you slap his thigh making him whimper at the sting

"How about I teach you how to count first before speaking, hm?"

Nezha

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sorry

He's shocked to say the least, not that he minds, he finds you absolutely gorgeous

Though, if there's one thing that sticks into his mind a lot is how much of a tease you are

Can't you go out on your day without a playful touch here and there? without you saying something so filthy onto his ear whenever you're hugging his sitting form and skipping away like you did nothing wrong?

You drive him crazy for just messing around with him, but can you really blame yourself though? He looks so cute with that blush and flustered expression on his face whenever you walk away, how can you not play with him?

If he thought that was bad, then in the more intimate moments. It's so, so much worse

He's shivering at your every move towards his body as he sits still, allowing you to mess him up however you want

Your hands starts to play with his bare chest licking and sucking on his nipples making him moan and arch his back, his breath turns ragged as he lazily opens his eyes to find you staring right at him in amusement

He flusters and looks away from you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as you laugh and cup your hands on his cheek, directing his face back towards yours "Don't look away from me, you look absolutely divine writhing on me~♡"

He furrowed his brow yet leans closer to your hand, grinding against your knee that's between his legs "You piss me off"

You laughed at his fake accusations "Really? Then why are you submitting so easily, hm?" You pressed your knee harder into his crotch making him suck in a heavy breath "Sh-Shut your mou— mphnn~♡"

"Yeah? You want to continue that statement? Or do you want me to fuck you?" He whimpered at your vulgar language shutting his eyes with a furrowed brow

"Use your words, my love ♡"

Mei is such an underrated baby

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xhmeusworld · 4 months

Text

a perfectly good heart | jeon wonwoo

genre: angst, comfort! bf wonwoo, established relationship

pairings: jeon wonwoo x gender neutral reader

warnings: reader is going through a difficult time, mentions of depression, and reader makes a comment about not wanting to exist

word count: 871

note: lately life has just been throwing me for a loop and as a result, i wrote this. i just want everyone to know that you have a purpose in life. regardless of how big or small, it means so much that you are here and my messages are always open to talk.

no one understands another’s pain. not truly.

words and actions can only explain so much, but no matter what someone says, the extensiveness of the pain can not be conveyed. that’s what you thought.

but as jeon wonwoo held you against him, he swore he could feel everything. the pure turmoil and agony. it felt like his soul was on fire, the flames forcing their way out and racing across his limbs.

the shakes that tore through your body and the struggled breaths through the tears made him hold you tighter, wanting to do anything to provide some sort of comfort. some sort of relief to the despair you felt.

instead, he felt helpless. what could he do? did he have the power to do anything? he wanted to tell you that everything you believed about yourself was wrong. he wanted to tell you that your brain was lying. he wanted to tell you so many things, but he wasn’t even sure if you could hear him right now.

your words from earlier rang in his ears.

“life has no set timeline. I understand that. I hear that every single day from so many people and it’s supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t. because then I think about it in terms of years and the longer I am floating around without a plan or a goal, the less likely I am to feel connected to everyone around me. I don’t want to be left behind. I don’t want to be the friend that is left alone; still wandering through life while everyone else has careers.”

the future was a scary thought. wonwoo understood that. the unknown of where you could end up in five years was terrifying, especially with no set plan. but sometimes things like this were meant to happen. maybe you were being led onto another path that you just didn’t know about yet.

“and I feel like I’m such a bad friend to literally everyone. i can hardly muster up the courage or energy to speak to some of closest friends. they have reached out, but i just find myself unable to reply and it hurts because i know the despair i’m feeling is my fault. i am so mentally weak. cutting everyone off makes my soul hurt so bad because I don’t want to hurt anyone, but my brain keeps constantly saying over and over that I’m a burden. I’m annoying. if i reach out, I’m taking time away from their lives; interrupting whatever important thing they have going on. and even through all of this, i’m lonely and i’m scared that everyone will forget me. I know none of this is true. I understand that, but god, I feel so weak and helpless.”

wonwoo wanted to scream. it hurt to hear you admit how lonely you felt and he instantly felt guilty himself as a result of his touring schedule, but you were in no way a burden to him or anyone else in your life. you just weren’t. there was absolutely no way you could be to the l people who loved you the most in the world. you weren’t weak or helpless. you were just scared. he wanted to tell you, he wanted to engrain into your head, that fear was normal. nothing was wrong with you being afraid.

“i’m a disappointment to my parents; to everyone that believed in me. I used to be so happy and now I feel incredibly stupid and I’m just filled with regret and anger. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I wish I was one of those people who knew exactly what they are doing with their life, but I’m not and I hate it. instead, i’m here with a void in my heart.”

your voice was thick with tears that you were desperately trying to hold back. wonwoo thought you were going to start sobbing right then, but somehow you managed to keep your composure to talk once again.

“i’m just so ashamed myself. I’m so utterly and truly an embarrassment and a failure that sometimes I’m even afraid to face you.”

that’s when your boyfriend grabbed your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him as he insisted almost angrily that you weren’t a failure. you were doing what was best for you. you were trying to take it one day at a time. there was no shame or crime in that. wonwoo was so proud of his person. so so very proud.

“i see no light or hope at the end of the tunnel right now”

these were the last words you spoke before you fully broke down, burying your face into his chest.

and no matter what you thought, jeon wonwoo could feel your pain and he held you tightly against him, tears streaming down his cheeks as well. his grasp tightened with each one of your sobs in hopes that if he only held on a little stronger, maybe he would be able to put you back together. he kissed the top of your head. he whispered that you were safe and loved and that you weren’t alone.

because he knew it hurt to be alone.

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betweengenesisfrogs · 7 months

Text

A HOMESTUCK MANIFESTO

I want to think about what comes next after Homestuck.

That’s a challenge to the world as much as a personal mission statement.

I want to see writers and artists and creators making the next Homestuck, taking its themes and binding them into new fabrics, giving life to new creatures even more beautiful and uncanny than the original species.

I hunger to see new forms of story and image evolving with Homestuck in their DNA.

This process is already underway. Homestuck is a massive boulder dropped into the waters of culture, and the full wake of its ripples is still to be felt. But let’s call attention to this process and ask: what would happen if we engaged in it more consciously? If we sifted through our feelings about Homestuck to create something new, deliberately, with great and wonderful purpose?

The tools we need are within our grasp. Homestuck presents itself as magic, but it’s a work constructed in time out of specific storytelling choices. So let’s understand those choices. Let’s understand how Homestuck did what it did, and use Homestuck’s tools to build art that grips the soul of future generations as strongly as Homestuck did ours.

What follows is not a traditional literary analysis. It does not cite its sources; it does not seek to give us a comprehensive understanding of Homestuck. If it does, it does so only to the extent it suits its larger purpose.

Our goal here, our quest, if you will, is not to understand the Homestuck that exists, but the Homestuck that comes next.

Let's begin.

0. THE WILD GARDEN

Let’s lay the absolute groundwork here.

Homestuck is constructed as a re-appropriation of itself. Or to put it another way, it’s a big improvisational move, a process of “yes and”-ing so hard it develops a sprawling continuity.

Tiny details are constantly re-contextualized to become part of something else. A joke might turn tragic. A silly aside might turn into something profound.

But it didn’t have to be that way.

It’s crucial to understand that what we experience as continuities were in fact choices made at specific times. Homestuck is a garden where seeds were scattered in every direction, grown en masse, then weeded down to create patterns and forms.

The shape of the garden is designed to conceal the gardener’s hand. But the gardener’s choices are there, every step of the way.

If we are to follow in its footsteps, what choices should we make?

Let’s talk about themes.

1. THE MEANING CRISIS

Nobody in Homestuck knows what they’re doing.

And neither do we.

All the old idols have broken down. The values we were taught in our childhood fail to measure up to the problems of the world we live in. We grasp after careers and lives we were told would make us happy and wonder why we’re left empty. The selves that we were told were us now fit us about as well as clothing we’ve outgrown. Crises loom, political, economic and environmental, and everywhere it feels like the people who are supposed to guide and lead us aren’t doing enough.

It's widening gyres and slouching beasts all the way from here to Bethlehem, is what I’m saying.

The reason people go absolutely insane for Homestuck is that it depicts this crisis of meaning. It shows the questions we might want to ask, and attempts to provide some kind of answer.

The protagonists of Homestuck struggle with what I’ve called “received narrative.” That is, they’ve inherited stories from their families, from the world, that they try to use to define their lives, and it doesn’t work. But these stories are so familiar that it’s hard to think outside them. They have to develop new stories by which to live. Sometimes they succeed, but other times they can’t escape the gravity of the ones they were given.

With me so far?

Great. Now understand that all this was improvised and discovered largely accidentally over the course of ten years.

Here’s a seed that became quite an impressive tree:

The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox. A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.

It’s a joke. But it was never just a joke. There’s an idea here of dissatisfaction with the stereotypical idea of American suburban life. Egbert here is looking for something more, dissatisfied for reasons they can’t fully articulate. This is typical fantasy protagonist stuff, but there’s something more here, too.

Eventually it’s redirected towards the idea that there really is an unseen riddler. But let’s put that aside for now.

This page, in its moment, says: your life is not the full picture. There’s something else out there, waiting, that’s going to change everything.

That's a potential set-up for a very powerful payoff. It gives us the sense that Egbert and all their friends are going to have to rethink what they know. That this suburban life is not going to be enough for them, that somehow or other they’re going to encounter something they aren’t prepared for, and they’ll have to find a new way of acting and being. That, try as they might to avoid it, they’re going to change over the course of this journey.

But to understand how they change, we need to talk about SBURB.

2. THE PORTAL FANTASY OF IT ALL

A lot of people like to joke that Homestuck is an isekai. I think it might clarify things to use the term portal fantasy instead.

Portal fantasy is simply the fantasy subgenre of characters, usually kids, going to a magical other world. Maybe they make friends, maybe they learn lessons and stuff. You know the drill. I don’t have to to tell you more because the story structure is already so familiar. That’s what gives it power.

Portal fantasy differs from the related Japanese genre of isekai in that isekai in its current form is much more heavily based on video games such as MMORPGs. In the most pervasive isekai narratives, protagonists are rewarded not so much for achieving personal growth as being able to exploit the game mechanics of a game-like system. That’s pretty different from your typical Narnia scenario.

The influence of portal fantasy is everywhere in Homestuck, especially in the beginning. We have nods to the fantasy films of the 1980s that gave us our contemporary idea of this story structure, such as The Neverending Story (itself, in its original book incarnation, a phenomenal commentary on the genre). Our protagonists are genre savvy; they recognize what’s happening here.

But it doesn’t fit quite right. The odd note is first sounded when Egbert asks Nanasprite if what they’re doing is going to save the world. They’re bit unsettled to learn the answer’s no, that something else is going on here. Next we have the fantasy worlds: the planetary lands each present a veneer of exciting adventure. But their inhabitants, the consorts, aren’t fully-realized people, they’re largely cute animals going through the motions, not really understanding the story they’re telling. The carapacians are a little better, but they’re still trapped in a fatalism that feels uncomfortable.

As things rev up in Act 4, we learn about doomed timelines from alt-timeline Dave and Rose, how your entire existence in this setting may be fodder for something other than you. When we learn the true purpose of SBURB and its froggy details in Act 5, we see that SBURB is more like a biological creature, mainly interested in its own reproductive desires. It was never really about the portal fantasy at all. The kids are just along for the ride.

So when we see that Rose wants to tear through SBURB, find out a way to escape fate, and snatch meaning from the jaws of futility, it makes sense. We’ve been given hints already that this is the conflict at hand: the characters vs the story that’s telling them.

(Note: it’s certainly possible to have a reading that SBURB is not evil so much as empty, that it reflects what you bring into it, that its will for you is your will for you. But that’s also a difficult thing, right? If you lack self-understanding, it’s a struggle to bring about your ideal reality.)

What we haven’t mentioned yet is that this is all mediated through the lens of video games. Which makes perfect sense. Because where do we seek meaning, especially as kids? In imaginary worlds that make more sense to us than real life, that give us achievements to take pride in and clear objectives to pursue.

SBURB evokes mechanics from games like Final Fantasy. We see its players complete objectives, cast magic spells, gain power-ups with colorful costume changes. But unlike the narratives implied by traditional video game progressions, leveling up doesn’t mean you grow as a person or process your trauma. Later, in Act 6, when we meet a player who has made his life about winning the game (Caliborn), it’s horrific to behold.

Homestuck is a portal fantasy, but it’s fundamentally a portal fantasy about games. It’s a portal fantasy that shows us how characters seek meaning in being the best at arbitrary game mechanics, but ultimately fail to find it.

So I guess…it actually is an isekai? Huh. Wild.

(But seriously, Homestuck is actually fairly prescient in predicting the ideas that come out of isekai and LitRPG. It’s engaging consciously and deconstructively with the weird ideas of self-fulfillment these genres are drowning in.)

So what might a Homestuckian work look like? It will almost certainly critique a false narrative we live by. It may comment on portal fantasy, or our personal satisfaction that comes as easily as playing a video game. But it doesn’t have to be limited to these things. It might talk about our popular TV shows and movies. It may take apart what’s flawed in Marvel, the latest triple-A game, or the modern dark fantasy novel.

Among its tools will be discomfort. Showing a disconnect early on between our character’s expectations and their happiness can serve as foundation to build on, so that when the flaws of the genre narrative are revealed, it feels like the truth. We may see characters who accept their narratives passively, or rebels like Rose Lalonde, who chose to rip everything apart in search of something better.

These are only some of the possibilities.

When I tell you the stories we live by mislead us, what is your relationship to that? If you were to tear these received narratives apart, what would you focus on, what would you try to say? The art that comes out of this question will be deeply personal to the soul who makes it.

But here’s another question:

Just who is giving us all these narratives, anyway?

3. THE PARENT FLIP

The world we live in was not made by us. It was shaped by forces that predate us, over which we have no control and are born into the grasp of without the knowledge of how to escape.

For instance, our parents.

The guardians who raise us provide our template for how to interpret life. We spend a large part of our lives immersed in the world they built, believing as they believe, living by the values that they instruct us in, so that we might carry their goals forward to the future.

This is an effort that is certain to fail.

Because the problems of today aren’t the problems of twenty or thirty years ago. At best, their messages can only to help in a limited way with the crises we go through as we live our lives. At worst, they actively hinder us from dealing with them productively.

If we are to escape the broken patterns of our world, then we need break out of the stories an earlier generation gave us.

How are parents discussed in Homestuck?

Initially? As jokes.

If we take our “future knowledge” goggles off for a moment, we can see that the early depictions of the kids’ parents are a goofy parody of standard parental tropes. Mom and Dad are nameless, faceless, exaggerated cartoon stereotypes, and conflict between them and their children is initially expressed through a silly video game fight.

There’s a seed of something real here, though. What we’re parodying is a familiar trope of tension between parents and children in kids’ fiction and YA fiction. But that trope exists for a reason. This conflict is rich with potential for any story about growing up. And Homestuck has smuggled the idea of it in as a silly RPG parody.

So we can extrapolate, for instance, that there’s tension between Egbert and their father in part because Egbert doesn’t know yet who they want to be, and that Rose and Mom’s relationship is awkward and contentious, with alcohol involved. We see that there’s something profoundly uncomfortable going on between Dave and his Bro, and Jade’s life in the shadow of a dead Grandpa suggests a psychology that’s not entirely a healthy one.

Understand that I’m not saying that all this was there from the start. Rather, a choice was made to develop these interesting possibilities out of the jokes, to tell a story about how parents that act like these ones might have affected their children.

A major turning point in this regard is when Egbert learns their father’s seeming clown obsession was the result of a failed attempt to connect with them. It’s quite silly, but it plays around with the idea of a gap in perception between parent and child. It’s also a sign the story’s starting to take more of an interest in character psychology, suggesting that what Egbert processes consciously is not the same as their deeper unconscious feelings. This in turn can become a setup for a portrait of Egbert as someone who represses things they don’t want to think about. From this moment, in the long term, comes June Egbert.

When the psychology machine revs up for all the characters in Act 4 and Act 5, it’s able to do so because this foundation was laid.

We also, as early as Act 3, get hints that the parents have intentions and personalities outside of how the kids perceive them. The original purpose is to hint at a larger conspiracy around SBURB, with Mom building a secret lab, Dad trying to investigate the mystery, and Grandpa jumping in and out of time. But what this suggests is that the psychology of the parents might at some point come into play.

But the most exciting development in the relationship between parents and children is Act 6.

The great role reversal. The parent and child flip.

How do you make your faceless parent figures into characters?

By making them kids.

We’re so used to this concept now t that it’s hard to remember how wild it is that Roxy is a teen version of a main character's mom. But the concept is genius. Meeting these characters on the same level forces our protagonists to understand them as people and reflect on their fallibility.

For us as readers, it adds detail and nuance to the cartoonish portraits we got in the beginning. Conversely, we also see what our protagonists might have been like as parents themselves—and turns it from a story of “parents just don’t understand” to a story of how people, despite their best intentions, can wound each other.

(The Homestuck Epilogues are a difficult text to evaluate, but one of the best things within them is Egbert’s arc in Candy, where we see how Egbert might have done as a parent, how their struggles with finding purpose in the world might lead them to embrace a narrative of parenthood yet struggle to have a good relationship their kid. It’s brilliant, and the culmination of everything we’ve talked about here.)

Thus the Homestuckian work of art will be concerned with themes of parents and children. It will play with the boundary between what children understand about their parents and what they don’t. It will show parents as people—fallible people, who make mistakes with severe costs, whose stories fail their children and themselves. It may build from a simple base of what children understand, or it may weave parent and child perspectives together. It may even show us how children fail when they become parents themselves. It will show us the cycles we are trapped in, how we wound and are wounded by our context.

And it will force us to look for a way out.

4. CLASSPECTS AS SIGNPOSTS

Hey. You want to know a secret?

Come closer, and I’ll whisper it to you.

Classpects aren’t actually all that complicated. Ultimately, they boil down to one thing:

Symbols we can use to construct a self.

If Homestuck is about a crisis of meaning, then classpects are part of its answer.

What do we do, when the world gives us no story we can live by?

We make one. We make one out of whatever symbols and messages we can find and put together from the stories we’ve read, from the people who teach and inspire us. Such collages are powerful things. They give us a way out of the dark, they give us a sense of something we are and can be, where there was nothing before.

They give us, in short, a personal mythology.

Classes and Aspects have often been read as codes to be unpacked and solved. It might be more productive to see them as creative tools, signposts designed not to narrow down meaning, but to allow us to explore it.

For instance, the portrayal of Light in Homestuck is unique. As a symbol, it combines notions of brightness, knowledge, future, luck, wealth, and narrative focus. These things aren’t inherently linked out in the world, but they are here, and that’s a choice, and an interesting one. It encourages us to imagine connections between these concepts, and to see if they have any relevance to ourselves. Identifying with the concept of Light, in other words choosing to value clarity, luck, and importance, might be a powerful tool for finding one’s way in the world.

Classes play with signposts at an even more basic level. Sure, we can talk about what a Knight does in the context of the story.

But a knight is already a powerful symbol. We bring so much cultural context to it. The word conjures up images and narratives of devotion, duty, violence, the slaying of dragons, armoring oneself against the world, and the rescuing of princesses. If we put that together with a concept like Time, we get a distinct character. If we put that together with our own experience of the world, we can create powerful concepts for who we want to be.

Interestingly, this complicates what we said about SBURB. As much as our protagonists struggle to find meaning within it, there’s still something there that they can latch onto. Classes, aspects, denizens, even consorts and lands—these things don’t have to be devoid of meaning. We can choose to affirm them; we can build something out of them, and say, yes, this is me, this is myself.

But it’s a double-edged sword.

We are responsible for the narratives we choose to live by. And we may find ourselves falling into a narrative that hinders us more than helps us, that creates a self-destructive self.

What does it mean to believe deeply that you are a thief, that taking from others to benefit yourself is the best way or comes to you the most naturally? What does it mean to tell yourself over and over that you’re a prince, with all the attendant baggage of power and grim responsibility that comes with that concept? Or, to follow the path further, what does it mean to tell yourself over and over that you are a destroyer or must be destroyed?

If we are to escape the story we’re trapped in, we must take care, lest we trap ourselves in a story of our own making.

Homestuck never quite resolves the ambiguity around these symbols of self, around whether SBURB hurts or helps, whether classpects are things you create or things that create you. But this ambiguity is a productive one. It gives us symbolic tools we can use in the creation of meaning, and it shows us the side of them that should make us wary.

The work that is to come after Homestuck will be about symbols. It may show us how we seek them in popular culture, or the people around us. It may use some of the clusters of meaning that that we see in Homestuck, but it will not be limited to them. It will write its own language of symbols, joining Light and Time to notions like Memory, Need, Rupture, and War, and be filled not just with knights and princes but brigadiers, lancers, healers, druids, taxidermists, sentries and waifs. It will build with tarot cards, enneagram types, and Babylonian gods. It will place all the signposts we’ve created in millennia of existence into new contexts and meanings.

By such means will it show us a way forward.

There’s one kind of symbol we haven’t talked about yet, however.

The kind that holds a mirror up to the world.

5. THE POWER OF ALTERNIA

There’s a reason dystopias have been so popular in young adult fiction. Sure, they’re cliché now, but they speak to something raw and visceral.

When you’re growing up into a world that doesn’t make sense, it’s natural to find refuge in emotional extremes. Stories of blood and violence, fates worse than death, and governments that demand horrific things of their citizens speak to the anxieties of the adolescent mind. They validate the feeling that something is wrong—that the world we’ve inherited is broken and unfair and has no place for us. And they’re right.

Alternia taps into these dystopian feelings perfectly. What makes it so fun is that it’s an inversion of a teenage fantasy. It’s a world where there are no parents, where kids can have access to power and violence, where you can sit around and play video games and design your own house. It almost feels like a response to the “parents don’t understand” themes of the early acts.

But the dystopia’s there, and it’s sneaky. A land of lost boys and girls isn’t actually all that great to live in. It’s lawless, survival of the fittest, with children killing each other left and right. And the future adult roles most of the troll kids aspire to are a glamorous veneer over competition for slots in a fascist military hierarchy. Which is to say nothing of the blood caste system as a way in which the kids are taught by their world to abuse and exploit each other. Crushes, personal slights, competition for status, group dynamics, attempts to define identity – all these familiar teenage dynamics play out on a backdrop of maiming and murder.

Which is perfect. Because when you’re young, all those social interactions genuinely do feel like life or death, and adulthood a regime of exploitation and horror bearing down on you. Alternia is a heightened, exaggerated version of reality. It expresses an emotional truth, not a literal one, validating our most intense feelings and giving us a road map to understanding them.

No wonder so many people wanted to skip to Act 5 and get to the trolls.

(See also Hiveswap Friendsim and Pesterquest, which explore these themes really really well.)

And Alternia, for a world where parents aren’t really a thing, tells us a surprising amount about the parental generation. In mid Act 5-2, Ancestors are added to Alternia’s wordbuilding, and we learn that as much as the trolls skipped having traditional parental figures, they were never devoid of role models. The deeds and exploits of notable figures throughout ancient Alternia gave them models to think about each other and themselves—even when those models were toxic ones. In a way, this isn’t so far from the human kids at all.

Furthermore, as time goes on, we acquire an origin for Alternia’s fascist worldview. Doc Scratch, manipulator of society, stands in for all those aspects of the world that work to create the false narratives we are born into, a true evil father figure – or uncle, if you prefer. And he's an extension of the ultimate evil father figure, Lord English, who controls not just Alternia but the timelines of the human children as well, whose belligerence and apathy give us aeons of toxic narratives and abuse. We see that story played out in Alternia in every interaction, in every moment, the beliefs its architects live by.

This is the power of dystopia—it can hold a broken mirror up to the world we live in.

Therefore the Homestuck that will come after Homestuck will worldbuild gardens of horror. It will not pull its punches but show us insidious societal systems and the effect they have on the people who live under them. It may depict fascism, authoritarianism, feudalistic tyranny, or all three. It will be unafraid to evoke blood and guts but use them to paint a picture of what we want, what we fear, and how we break under our false horizons.

As it depicts the path out, so, too, will it have its reverse side—it will show us all the hells and purgatories we’re trapped in.

6. SAILS TO THE WIND

Much has been written (including by this very author) about Homestuck’s metafictional aspects – the way it comes to foreground a more direct clash between character and narrative.

But the point I want to make here is that the metafictional angle wouldn’t work without these earlier choices. They allow the comic to talk about these concerns long before any notion of canon rears its head.

There are many ways of approaching these themes, and we don’t have to be limited to notions of Ultimate Selves and Beyond Canon to explore them. Such things are valuable, but they are only one retelling of the myth. If we are to make the next Homestuck, we must make our own.

I want to illustrate the space of possibility by offering some examples of works that explore similar themes. Note that I’m not saying these works were influenced by Homestuck in any way, but rather that they use some of the same tools to speak to the same questions, anxieties and concerns.

In trying to make what comes after Homestuck, we might consider:

Revolutionary Girl Utena, which foregrounds the archetype of the Prince as duelist, tyrant, and hero and dares its characters to break free from the false reality that shapes even these aspirations and dreams.

The Familiar by Mark Z. Danielewski, author of Houseof Leaves, whose core narrative concerns an twelve-year-old girl in thrall to an entity whose intentions are unclear but may be shaping the fabric of reality itself; which depicts the inner lives and uncertainties of her parents with just as much detail as they struggle, and sometimes fail, to make the right choices to help her; a story which, even in its incomplete form, explores a notion of a greater S.E.L.F that is not just you but also those who share something with you, where characters from other realities blur into transcendent archetypes in this one.

Digimon, perhaps the quintessential work of portal fantasy, not only Digimon Tamers, which steers the genre into a place of trauma, cosmic horror, and adults horrified by children saving the world, but also Digimon Adventure, which creates strong character arcs for eight very different children as they try to navigate a strange alien world, and shows us their struggle to reconcile with their parents as part of the process of understanding themselves.

The Neverending Story by Michael Ende,foundational text for Homestuck, which tells us not only about the rich possibilities inherent in reading oneself into fantasy worlds, but also the terrible potential for harm in making oneself an emperor over them.

Pale, by Wildbow, author of Worm, an urban fantasy story about three teenagers thrust into a world of magic and murder, a world where symbols literally create reality, where concepts like Carmine and Aurum have a powerful pull, where the Self is something that can be nourished or taken apart and put back together, a story where the parents are not just supporting cast but fully realized people forced to reckon with the ways in which they have deeply failed their children, and which contains perhaps the most thorough investigation of the question of “is it good for children to go on magical adventures?” ever committed to the page.

Heaven Will Be Mine, by Aevee Bee,in which the giant robots we pilot through space become the symbolic manifestation of our inner selves and our way of bringing about our ideal reality, and, relatedly, We Know the Devil, in which the repression of those selves causes them to burst out from us in terrifying and glorious new forms.

Crow Cillers, by Cate Wurtz, an often trauma-filled horror comic in which a group of kids and, eventually, adults, tries to fight back against an ever-present death cult that has its grips on every corner, all the while encountering Psyforms, beings made of pure mind, while characters from television and cartoons dance in the margins and all the while the line blurs between audience and art until it becomes difficult to tell who created who—a story that asks what it means to find meaning in stories when the corporate entities that own them are trying to devour us.

It's a tragically short list, I know. But perhaps it conveys some of the angles we might take.

We can also look at works that are known to have inspired by Homestuck. There aren’t many yet, but there are a few.

Undertale is famous for its Homestuck influences, with parallel timelines, an idea of agency that persists across them, and a contentious relationship between player and character, but for my part, I’m just as interested if not more so in Deltarune, which seems to be slowly building a grand thesis about portal fantasy, where the kids' adventures in the Dark Worlds seems to be offering them an escape and helping them become their best selves—but hints at a coming challenge to that simple worldview in the question of who’s really experiencing that escape.

The Locked Tomb, by Tamsin Muir – This is the big one, that really shows what building on Homestuckian themes can achieve. It turns out there really is an audience for weird aggro formalism in scifi publishing if you make it sufficiently gay. But smartly, like Homestuck, the Locked Tomb builds its weird mysteries gradually, adding on layer after layer on the solid foundation of characters we can follow and get invested in. There’s so much to notice – there’s the highly categorized teenagers involved in a murder feud, there’s the constant whiplash of humor and tragedy, there’s the endlessly open spaces in the story to interpret and project on to.

But to me, what stands out the most is the portrait of God and his court as every bit as emotionally chaotic as the sniping teenagers. You go to heaven, and God’s making out in the corner with his friend group, and you look for the adult in the room but the adults in the room don’t know what they’re doing and they never really did. It’s a portrait of the parents, it’s a portrait of the Ancestors, it’s a portrait of the gods of the new world, and it’s exquisite.

The Locked Tomb gives us a world at war with its own mythological narrative, rich with angst and irony. It’s a worthy successor to everything Homestuck was doing. It shows us how much these themes can say to us, and it gives us a hint at how powerful Homestuck's legacy might be.

7. THE APOTHEOSIS OF HOMESTUCK

There’s a lot of discussion about how to continue Homestuck. How to do it justice. What post-canon might look like, and what it might not. What fan comics, what fan fics, what semi-official works truly live up to the spirit of its characters and its multiverse.

To be clear, those discussions are awesome. I’m so glad those things exist, and it’s wonderful to see them unfolding.

But I don’t want the process to stop there. I'd be disappointed if it was only about adding to and re-articulating Homestuck itself.

I want this—

—This multifaceted, complicated, emotionally laden thing that is the experience of engaging with and creating with and interpreting Homestuck—

To go out into the world and to be infused into the world, to become waves spreading further and further. I want to experience the Homestuck artistic movement, the Homestuck school of thought. I want it to be an influence on the fiction of the coming generation of authors, and the next, and the next.

I want Homestuck to be one of those albums that's too obscure to be known by the general public, but everyone who listened to it went on to start an enormously successful band.

Homestuck can appear like a thing that was conjured out of the ether, but it isn’t. It’s a product of a particular time.

But that in itself is profound. When you create art, you reach back to all the things that have shaped you, and you listen to what the world around you needs, and you try to say what needs to be said. Which means you're a part of a history and culture that needs to say those things, which will be different from the things that needed to be told yesterday, and different from the stories that will be needed tomorrow.

There’s no otherworldliness to it, no platonic other reality. But for all I've talked about art being made of choices, there's still something transcendent here.

To make Homestuck—and to make art inspired by Homestuck—means being a node in a web formed of millions of people, where a light passes down the chain to you, and for the briefest of moments, you get to be filled with its presence, before it moves on to the next person in the chain.

That light isn't yours. Not really.

But at the same time, you do get to choose how that light manifests.

And to engage with that process consciously—to think deliberately about what we want to create—that gives us power and agency over that process, our sense of the world, and ourselves.

So let’s do this. Let’s make the thing that Homestuck is telling us can exist, the thing it’s paving the way for, the thing we know in our soul can come to be.

Let’s make the next Homestuck happen.

—Ari

POSTSCRIPT

“To put out a manifesto you must want: ABC

to fulminate against 1, 2, 3

to fly into a rage and sharpen your wings to conquer and disseminate little abcs and big abcs, to sign, shout, swear, to organize prose into a form of absolute and irrefutable evidence, to prove your non plus ultra and maintain that novelty resembles life… I write a manifesto and I want nothing, yet I say certain things, and in principle I am against manifestoes, as I am also against principles… I write this manifesto to show that people can perform contrary actions together while taking one fresh gulp of air…”

— Tristan Tzara, “Dada Manifesto 1918”

"The cyborg is resolutely committed to partiality, irony, intimacy, and perversity. It is oppositional, utopian, and completely without innocence....the cyborg would not recognize the Garden of Eden; it is not made of mud and cannot dream of re-turning to dust...This is a dream not of a common language, but of a powerful infidel heteroglossia. It means both building and destroying machines, identities, categories, relationships, space stories...I would rather be a cyborg than a goddess."

— Donna Haraway, "A Cyborg Manifesto"

“What we need is works that are strong straight precise and forever beyond understanding... let each man proclaim: there is a great negative work of destruction to be accomplished. We must sweep and clean…to divest one's church of every useless cumbersome accessory; to spit out disagreeable or amorous ideas like a luminous waterfall, or coddle them—with the extreme satisfaction that it doesn't matter in the least…freedom: Dada Dada Dada, a roaring of tense colors, and interlacing of opposites and of all contradictions, grotesques, inconsistencies: LIFE.”

— Tristan Tzara, “Dada Manifesto 1918”

“These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,

If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,

If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,

If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.”

—Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

𖤓

#homestuck #homestuck analysis #what comes next after homestuck #the future of homestuck #homestuckian art #you are actually 100% sure walt whitman said that

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itsmealaiah · 3 months

Note

Tom with a girlfriend who plays soccer

yes!! headcanon approach was taken

pairing: tom x soccer player reader (tried not to describe)

tags/ warnings: NSFW headcanons, sex, lots of fluff, tom being supportive, sexual innuendo.

do not repost, copy and paste, claim as your own, place on another website, or translate into another language. read here @itsmealaiah only ❤️ 😘

Sfw:

Going to every single game, absolutely, cheering his girl on, holding up signs, clapping whenever he feels you even slightly did good. You are blushing like crazy when he whistles and yells your name from the stands.

When you ask him to help you prep before your games (at your house not in the locker room) he's overjoyed, and will lace up your shoes, attempt to do your hair, failing miserably, never giving up though, and packing your equipment so you're not panicking last minute.

Kisses and hugs are definitely a good luck charm, showering you in public displays of affection, loving when you recoil shyly, laughing and kissing your forehead.

The whole team would think it is so cute, not weird at all if they see, wishing they were you, the attention making you blush each time.

He'll bring the band to root for you, and they'd bring little presents or gifts for you, congratulating you at the end of the match.

Nsfw:

now, when the game's over, he's got a little "present" of his own for you, bringing you to his car located far away from the rest of the team or any human interaction

the car would be ROCKING and i mean rocking

ya'll fuck like bunnies at the end of each game. Win? sex. lose? make-up sex. any and all sex is always going on.

his goal is to make the pre-wrap in your hair snap, a symbol of how good he's fucking you

hickies on your waist (thank you to epicf4iry on yt for that VERY detailed description) so the coaches don't lay it into you later on

will leave purposeful hickies near your core sometimes so that you'd be struggling to run and score next game, since he loves when you take it out on him for losing

a/n: hope this was good! please send more jake, johnnie, eminem, and andy biersack reqs ❤️❤️

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

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twistedastrology · 11 days

Text

- The most painful Chiron placements -

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in my opinion-

to preface, all chiron placements are inherently painful, but these to me are the ones i have the most respect for in a way??

everyone knows chiron as the wounded healer, it represents our soul level wound that, once healed, is our greatest superpower.

so here are a handful of the chiron placements that to me are the most intense.

- Chiron in Aries/1st -

chiron in aries is absolutely terrifying to me and i have the utmost respect for people with this placement because this is a core wound of the self.

they go through life forever trying to find who they are and feeling like the world holds no space for them- ive said like a billion times that my biggest fear is losing myself, and that's the wound that chiron in aries has to deal with.

they might struggle with finding what they're willed to do and might feel like a mosaic of everything else around them instead of a real person and that is so scary to me.

once they manage to heal that wound though, they are fucking unstoppable and inspire others to find themselves just as they did.

- Chiron in Sagittarius -

this one is intense to me because it often has a lot of potential to remain unhealed- this is a wound that relates to spirituality entirely-

i dont know many ppl with this placement at all but i imagine they're scared or intimidated by spirituality as a whole to some degree-

these people don't know what the purpose of life is, they don't know what they believe in or If they believe in anything- the subject of belief and purpose in life is very sore for them.

when healed, this chiron placement bestows an intense sense of belonging and meaning in life, and it has a lot of potential to remain unhealed because spirituality at the very least helps you to find a true meaning in life, without adhering to a strict religion that makes one up.

- Chiron in Aquarius/11th -

im a little biased for this one because i have this placement but i can 100% speak from experience because of that.

this placement is easily the most agonizing one in my entire chart- for the longest time i felt like i would never find true friends, and sometimes that feeling will creep up again and it makes me absolutely crumble.

chiron in aries and chiron in aquarius are very similar to some extent because they both feel like the world won't give them somewhere to feel at home, just for different reasons.

chiron in aquarius makes you feel like you will never have anyone who truly understands you and that even if you do, they won't stick around like you want them to.

for some people, this can make them try to conform to somewhere they don't belong. thankfully i don't have that aspect, but it has crossed my mind multiple times in life.

this placement, when it's triggered by something, makes me immediately consider every possibility upon meeting someone new and forces me to give up my hopes until im proven otherwise.

im pretty sure it's the reason i have an avoidant attachment style as well as trust issues 😮‍💨

when healed though, these people have the ability to bring people together without snuffing anyone's individuality. they always respect people for who they are and the friends they do manage to find respect them for who they are.

much shorter post this time but ive been super tired all day and ofc had a chiron trigger so ive been a little cranky to say the least- but i wanted to write something for some reason so i figured what better than what i struggled with today 😮‍💨

if you have any of these chiron placements or just generally know your chiron fucking hurts really bad when it's triggered, i get it- but it won't be like that forever. the more we manage to heal, the more that wound is transformed into the most stable part of our charts.

if in general you're not doing well rn, again, i get it, but it will never be like that forever. that's not how life works. you won't be happy forever either, but if you were, there would be no value to it.

like the song i named this blog after says, "a lonely life where no one understands you, but don't give up because the music do"

- 🖤 -

#astrologer #astrology #astro community #astro observations #zodiac #chiron #chiron in astrology #it's gonna be okay

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 4.3

Oof! Got him!

“She loves you and he loves him and they love each other”. You know when you've got something to say but you don't want it to look like you really wanted to say it specifically so you throw it in between two other things? No? Just me and John?

I'm obsessed with John just heaping praise on Paul in this interview. Every song the interviewer brings up it's “best” “my favorite” “all Paul” “good piece of work” “somewhere I have the tape of him doing it” “damn good” “one of his masterpieces” See also: Paul’s a good lyricist, he just doesn't try because he's insecure. And: one of the most innovative bass players of all time.

John mixing up In My Life and If I Fell “although I don't know why I'm confusing them, they're nothing alike but they have the same–” The same what? Same target? Same muse? Hmm? “It's really about–it's not about Cyn.” He's barely hanging on to not saying it here, like, by a gossamer thread.

John confessing that the consistent character flaw of Paul's which hurt him ((hurt. Not annoyed. Not angered. Hurt.)) was insensitivity. Not bossiness or lameness or sneakiness. Insensitivity. What John couldn't handle in the end about Paul was that he wasn't aware enough of John's tender feelings.

He's also so cruel in this interview. And what you've got to pay attention to is the theme connecting the songs he's cruel about: Let It Be (let John go) and The Long and Winding Road (the long and pointless fight).

The Japanese Monk comparison doesn't quite land for me because it implies that John purposely broke up the Beatles because he knew they were at a peak and he wanted them to stay gold. And I think that's what John would like the story to be. It makes him feel better inside. It makes him look incredibly wise and courageous. But it's clear – John even stated it himself more than once on record – that the breakup was not purposeful or calculated. It was a terrible accident that nobody wanted, least of all John.

More quotes to live by when examining John's post breakup “ow!”

I find it fascinating that John thought of Paul's and Dylan's lyrics as very similar and says so twice in this documentary. But nobody else ever draws that comparison. In mainstream thought, Bob Dylan is one of the greatest lyricists of all time if not the greatest (it's me. I'm mainstream. Subterranean Homesick Blues my absolute beloved.) and Paul is the worst lyricist to ever get successful. And you know what? I think Paul gets punished for being physically pretty and financially savvy, and I think in the exact same way his music gets punished for being melodically pretty and commercially successful.

John about Paul's inscrutable messages in his songs: if one knows the person, one knows what's coming down. John in I Know (I Know): and I know. What's coming down.

I will always love how he says in the same breath . . . “I've compared it to a marriage a million times" and "Paul and I were together.”

You really do gotta be like “Johns say the darndest things sometimes.” I mean that's what Paul did, right? Because genuinely most of the time he's a fucking sweetheart. After he's sat there defending Paul's insane mourning bus movie, the interviewer asks him to compare himself and Paul. And after saying there's never been a question about commerciality, he says this.

Nobody think about Paul writing “One of These Days” just before John's death then “This One” a decade later. Don't do it. I do recommend.

Free as a Bird is such a beautiful song. It's a gorgeous melody, and it's got such complex emotions. He's still mourning something that was lost, but he's hopeful. He's on his way home.

You all know that long distance interview Paul did right before John died where they bring up some of the awful things John said recently about him (ignoring the millions of loving and admiring things). When Paul's voice cracks and he looks up at the ceiling and struggles for a minute and the lights go out, I have a theory that it's one of their kids being protective. She was messing with the lights before to be silly and then when the bad question comes she turns them off again as a sort of protective sabotage.

What If though? What If that's true?

Quote of all time!!! “The person I actually picked as my partner, who I recognized has talent and who I could get on with, was Paul.” He doesn't say ‘as my sidekick’ or ‘running mate’ or ‘captain’s mate’ or ‘second string’ or any of those things that traditional Beatles fans tend to push on them. Partner.

Serious question, because I swing all over the place as to what I think actually happened between John and Paul physically and emotionally. If we agree that Real Love is about Paul (a baby and another on the way lalalalalala farm . . . Just call him on the phone) Then what about this lyric? “Was I just dreaming (a word of theirs and something they thought they shared) or was it only Yesterday (Paul's biggest song) I used to hold you in my arms? Is that to be taken literally? John used to hold Paul in his arms? i.e. frequent hugging and cuddling?

The heart monitor cuts so harshly into John singing “Grow Old With Me.” As we see beautiful images of John and all the people he's leaving behind. I'm dry heaving. This documentary is so much more painful this time around than the first.

Anyway I'm glad we got coverage of all the “for Paul” songs. Which. Btw fuck you Sean and Peter. You proved absolutely nothing.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 month

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How would any of the T-dolls react to their s/o easily picking them up or physically overpowering them with no effort or strain whatsoever

(GFL) AK-15, RPK-16, SPAS-12, G11, HK416, and RO635's S/O picking them up

Admittedly it is possible with some of the lighter T-Dolls like AN-94, but imagine trying to lift someone like SPAS.

15's eyes only slightly widen in surprise when S/O manages to pick her up and carry them, bridal style.

She turns her gaze to S/O with a relatively deadpan voice.

(AK-15) "What is the purpose of doing this, S/O?"

(S/O) "Well, I want to show you that I can carry you too!"

(AK-15) "It is impressive, but unnecessary."

(S/O) "It absolutely is! How else could I prove the strength of love?"

(AK-15) "..."

(S/O) "...T-That was a joke-"

15 gently pushes S/O off as she gets on her own two feet.

(AK-15) "Now that I know your strength, S/O, you should join me for training sometime this week."

15 found their strength neat, but it didn't really fluster her as much as S/O hoped it would.

16 lets a quiet "oh" escape her lips as S/O picks her up without issue.

(RPK-16) "Oh, you're far stronger than I thought."

(S/O) "Come on, I gotta do something to impress you!"

(RPK-16) "Well, you certainly did that...Interesting place for your hands too."

(S/O) "W-Well, I'm just lifting you, not groping you!"

(RPK-16) "Hm, is that right?"

Even though she was in their arms, S/O was starting to blush making her laugh.

16 at least knows someone can carry her to the repair bay. And bed. And anywhere, really.

She is half tempted to ask S/O just to carry her everywhere.

SPAS is completely shocked when her feet leave the ground.

(SPAS-12) "GUH?!"

(S/O) "Gotcha!"

SPAS blushes madly when she realizes S/O is able to lift her, and they didn't seem to struggle either.

(SPAS-12) "S-S/O?! The heck are you doing?!"

(S/O) "Can I not pick up my beautiful girlfriend?"

Blushing at the name, she ignored the teasing and asked her main question.

(SPAS-12) "Just how strong are you, and why did you never tell me you could do this!? You could've helped me bring my equipment back a while ago!"

SPAS begins to pout, from both their strength, and the fact they never offered once to help carry all her snacks and gear.

G11 just lets out a quiet but cute "waaaah" as she is lifted into S/O's back.

Her arms wrap around their neck softly as she yawns.

(G11) "Hm...comfy."

(S/O) "Wow, your equipment is a lot lighter than I thought it'd be!"

(G11) "...You're not going to take me to do work, are you?"

(S/O) "I was just wanting to show you how strong I was, really."

S/O already knew G11 was closing her eyes as her head rested on their shoulder.

(G11) "Take me to bed and put the blankets over me..."

Now she latches onto S/O's back solely to go to sleep, much to S/O's annoyance.

HK416 screams many German curses as the floor suddenly leaves her feet, seeing S/O carry them.

(HK416) "What the hell are you doing to me?!"

(S/O) "Surprise! Just wanted to pick you up.~"

She has half a mind just to punch them in the face.

Instead, she frowns before getting on the floor herself and crossing her arms.

(HK416) "Don't just pick me up without warning, jackass! That's just begging to get hit!"

(S/O) "Did you not like it?"

(HK416) "No, I didn't!"

The blush on her cheeks tells S/O otherwise.

Now, HK would do the same to them, similarly without issue.

(HK416) "Not so fun when it happens to you, is it?"

(S/O) "Actually, your arms feel kinda nice..."

(HK416) "Tch, whatever..."

RO yelps as S/O suddenly picks her up, making her stammer.

(RO635) "W-What in the world are you doing, S/O?!"

S/O flashed her a cheeky grin before kissing her on the cheek.

(S/O) "Seeing your reaction."

(RO635) "N-NOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHERS!"

Her hands are close to her chest and fidgeting wildly as she feels the gaze of her squad on them.

(S/O) "Sorry, couldn't resist!"

RO is pouting the entire time when they finally put her down.

She doesn't even think about the implications of a human being able to completely carry her due to being flustered.

(RO635) "Please do not do that to me without warning..."

(S/O) "So I can do it as long as I tell you?"

(RO635) "No, that is not what-"

(S/O) "Picking you up!"

(RO635) "S/O! I am -UWAH?!"

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline headcanons #girls' frontline x reader #ak 15 x reader #rpk 16 x reader #spas 12 x reader #g11 x reader #hk416 x reader #m16a1 x reader #ro635 x reader #ak 15 gfl #rpk 16 gfl #spas 12 gfl #g11 gfl #hk416 gfl #ro635 gfl

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strkyoo · 9 months

Text

— flowerboys

PAIRING ; florist!tighnari x biker!male reader

IN WHICH ; tighnari has a random crush on his regular biker customer! how interesting … i wonder how will tighnari try to approach him and make him fall for him?

NOTE ; IM SO SICK…,, but ugh florist tighnari literally makes my brain hurts so much to not write it — wc ; 680

// FLUFF — MODERN AU, drabbles, implied he/him pronouns for reader, slow burn?, ONE JUST ONE cringy cyno joke reader made, ‘delulu’ tighnari??

⋆ florist!tighnari who had an … ordinary first encounter with you. it all started when you decided to visit his newly opened flower shop. still, he wasn’t expecting someone as sweet as you to be his first customer!

⋆ florist!tighnari who didn’t realise that his tail was swaying here and there whenever he looked at you, struggling to find a suitable seed when you wanted to plant a new flower.

“need any help, biker guy?” he chuckled as he left the cashier counter, smiling playfully as he saw your struggling expression.

you just smile awkwardly and nodded, barely muttering any word to him because of how nervous you are around this new florist guy.

“... chill, dude. i don’t bite or anything.” tighnari laughed again as he stepped closer beside you, trying to help you to find a seed you’ve been looking for with an amused smirk crossed his lips.

⋆ florist!tighnari who likes to look at your padisarah pin on your clothes, saying that it looks lovely, especially since you’re the one who wear it. he would definitely say that padisarah is as beautiful as you as a joke, and maybe deep down—it’s not really a joke for him.

⋆ florist!tighnari who would always smile warmly whenever you entered his flower shop. he would wave at you with a bright as a sunflower and sweet as a nectar smile, looking at your back lovingly whenever you tried to find a new seed. he rests his chin on his palm-like paw (or paw-like palm idk), staring at you with such a dreamy face.

oh archons … did he just fall head over heels for you?

⋆ florist!tighnari who would like to have a matching floral themed stuff — earring, ring, necklace, pin, whatever it is, as long as he matches with you. a secret, unofficial sign that one day, you will belong only to him… <3

⋆ florist!tighnari who couldn’t help but sometimes give you his favorite flower, seeds, or even gardening items for free to you—saying that it’s a gratitude to always coming over to his flower shop every day. but deep down, he had no reason to give it to you, he just wanted to see your adorable reaction!

⋆ florist!tighnari who hesitated when he asks you if he could have a ride on your bike whenever you have free time.

⋆ florist!tighnari who will chuckle awkwardly in relief when you said he can have a ride on your bike, while deep inside, he wanted to scream “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO—”on top of his lungs for getting accepted.

⋆ florist!tighnari who pretend that he didn’t know how to ride a bike together before, it’s absolutely clear that he’s doing it on purpose to hear your cute step by step explanations.

“hold on tight, nari!” you joked slightly, which received a playful flick on the back of your head from tighnari. (pls tell me u get the joke)

you guided his hand carefully through your hips to your waist, which caused him to flinch in surprise when you do that so … casually.

he can feel how soft the fabric of your clothes are, his ears drop in embarrassment as he tries to control his breath and his wagging tail.

“his waist is … so soft … so grabbable.” he thought with a rosy cheeks, finding it hard to focus when he was holding your waist so carefully.

⋆ florist!tighnari who always loves to hold your waist while thinking of romantic scenarios you two would have while biking together 𖹭

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated (with tags) ! ♡

@strkyoo, 2023.

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izzyspussy · 8 months

Text

Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

#jack facts #ted lasso #hc #i do vague sir but i do not vague at you sir #also yes i do know beard and bumbercatch's first names but i thought this was funnier

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rendy-a · 11 months

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I live for your "self aware au" Sebek, he so goofy and murder

Can we have some more of him in the said au? Just anything you feel like

Thanks ahead!

~~~🌟🎃

Sebek is such an interesting character to write. He is both as serious and chivalrous as a knight of yore while at the same time being absolutely ridiculous. It gives him just an incredible range. Plus, somehow, everything he does turns out humorous. Its just a fun thing to write!

If this were a normal school, you feel like each student would fade into the background. A crowd of students would be like a school of fish; you see each one and yet none catches the eye. This wasn’t a normal school though and you weren’t a normal student. In the world of TWST, no one catches your eye like a member of the main cast. In a class, the hallway or lunchroom; if a student from the game passes by, you just can’t help but notice.

That is likely why you’d so easily picked up on your new…companion. Sebek was following you again. He tries to be inconspicuous, but he is tall enough to loom over most of the students. Plus, he is in no way quiet. “HUMAN! MOVE OUT OF THE WAY! I HAVE PLACES TO BE!” You hear him from down the hall long before you catch sight of him. You figure that, if he is going to follow you anyway, you might as well walk with him. However, when you turn to wait for him, he quickly ducks behind a pillar. You meet the eye of Scarabia C and nod your head toward the pillar as if to ask, ‘you seeing this too?’ Scarabia C only shakes his head. You shrug and walk to class with Scarabia C instead.

You’ve developed an interest in seeing how far Sebek would go to follow you while still pretending not to. You purposely drop things while he trails behind you to see if he returns them. He does return each item, but not in person. You see him gasp in surprise and rush to collect whatever random junk you’ve left behind and clutch it to his chest like a treasure. Then he hurriedly rushes from your view. It’s never long before your ‘lost item’ finds its way to your school desk or a table in the library you like to use to study; just somewhere he knows you’ll be. Sometimes, you wish he wouldn’t return the items. There have been a few occasions where you forget to toss an empty bottle or note in the trash and find it carefully preserved and returned to you later. Sebek appears to view anything you’ve touched as equal in value from textbooks to gum wrappers.

You aren’t proud of it, but you’ve also sort of been using Sebek as your henchman. It’s hard to be so inexplicably famous but also magicless in a place like NRC. Sometimes, the random NPC students get pushy about spending time with you or invading your personal space. Once, you tugged your hand from a student’s grasp and loudly declared, “Someone needs to teach you some manners!” The next day, you’d gotten a written apology from the student in question. He nervously glanced over his shoulder with a blackened eye while handing you the letter. You follow his gaze and see a hint of lime green hair peeking out from around the corner. You take the letter and smile to yourself. “I graciously accept your apology. I’m glad SOMEONE has done a fine job of reminding you how to treat your fellow students,” you say in a much louder than necessary voice. You are rewarded with a pleased gasp from around the corner.

You sometimes struggle over how to feel about the constant surveillance. On one hand, it was somewhat creepy having someone you barely knew monitor your every move like that. You also had no privacy with Sebek chasing away people he deemed unworthy to speak with you (which was everyone). Even conversations you did manage to have outside of class were with Sebek looming behind your friends and giving them a fierce glare. Yet, there were times when his presence was far more comforting than anything else. After all, it’s a long walk back to Ramshackle.

Halloween was a time when the gates of NRC didn’t close until late in the evening. Until then, students were about campus greeting visitors and running booths; it all lead to a cacophony of joyful noise. After close, the wind that howled softly past your ears was the only sound you heard in the dark night. You quickly snuff a candle in the jack-o-lantern at your feet before moving on to the next. This was the job Crowley had assigned to you; to put out all the jack-o-lanterns from the gate to Ramshackle dorm after close. Honestly, it was a very (dare you say it) kind thing of him to do. It lets you do your part in the festivities while also being extremely convenient for you. When your walk was done, you were right at home.

Only, as you went along the path putting out the lights, the darkness of the night grew ever closer to you. Soon, it wasn’t just the wind you noticed but the common sounds of the night that gave you pause. It was the rustling of leaves that made you wonder what was moving in the forest and the clicking of heels that made you crane your head to locate the student walking nearby. The worst was when you swore you heard one of these noises but pausing to search for a source garnered no results. After staring for a time into the empty night, you’d shudder a bit and force yourself to move on.

You reach the next jack-o-lantern and snuff the light when you hear a branch brake in the woods. This time, it isn’t a small sound but something much larger. Your eyes go round, and you think you shiver a bit as you look into the darkness. That is when you hear the clicking on the sidewalk begin. You turn in fear to peer behind, but it is only Sebek, approaching with deliberateness. He gets a few feet from you and then stops and peers into the woods, “SIVLER? IS THAT YOU? WHEN I FIND WHERE YOU’VE BEEN SLACKING OFF… I…I am going to CHECK THIS WHOLE AREA FOR YOU!” Then he looks over at you before quickly jerking his gaze away.

Having the stalwart knight at your side helps you calm down. Sebek can be strange, but you wholeheartedly believe in his skills as a guard. You look one last time at the blushing first year before you turn and walk away. He matches your stride, going faster when you do, stopping when you stop; he makes sure he never approaches you too close, but you always feel him there nearby. You think to yourself, ‘What could be better than a night fae to guard you from the imagined dangers of the dark?’ It brings a small smile to your lips.

Finally, you reach the final jack-o-lantern at the gate of Ramshackle. You snuff the light with a relieved sigh, knowing your duty was complete and home was in sight. Grim must have beaten you back because the lights were on, warm and inviting, just up the stairs. Or maybe the ghosts took pity on you and turned them on. Either way, darkness never feels as frightening when you come again to the light. You brush a hand through your hair and pull out a wayward leaf, setting it down on the pillar near the last jack-o-lantern. Then you turn your head to meet a startled Sebek’s eyes. You exchange no word, only giving him a grateful nod, before you head indoors.

Sebek watches you go as his heart beats a rapid rhythm. He’d taken a walk with the Player tonight. In the moonlight, alone. It was practically a date! He places a hand to his face to cool down his heated cheeks. And they left something near the jack-o-lantern before signaling him; was it another gift? Sebek heads over and examines the leaf. He carefully clasps it as tears fill his eyes, ‘This leaf touched the Player themselves! And they gave it to me!’ He looks carefully around and finds a similar leaf to swap out with the one he takes.

That night, Sebek pulls out his box of treasures. He opens it with reverence, adding the leaf to his collection. A book, an empty bottle, a scribbled note, a gum wrapper and now a leaf. All the items quite common seeming but each one had once belonged to the Great Player. Sebek felt a bit bad for swapping out the items and returning you imitations, but you never seemed to notice. ‘No,’ Sebek scolds himself, ‘it’s the Great Player, of course they noticed!’ He smiles with great delight. The Player meant for him to have these things, why else would they look at him each time before leaving them behind for him? Yes, he’d keep swapping out the items to throw off the jealousy of those other unworthy fools who flocked around you and wait. Wait until the day he could emerge from the shadows and stand proudly at your side. Just as the Player intends.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #tw: yandere #yandere sebek x reader #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere sebek zigvolt x reader

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