#i can’t tell if this is an original thought or if i’m remembering someone’s art

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to... (6)

... Think

MASTERLIST

Summary: You almost forgot…

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, modern au, mentions of cheating and past relationship, reader and Cregan are orphans :( might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: Thank you all for reading, I'm having such a fun time writing this. I already have the groupd's summer vacation plan and THEY ARE GOING TO BE SO AMAZING!

Thanks to your injured ankle you had missed the rest of spirit week, you had won the hall decorating competition, BUT, had lost the whole thing… the engineers won, again…

You were bummed that you had missed it, BUT, tomorrow you were allowed to resume your activities, and you were glad because you were losing it being locked up in your dorm room, and you were even more glad because a classmate of yours, and Rhaena, told you the freespot in the Arts school was filled with someone else other than Alys

She didn’t get the job! you could breathe easily now.

And your ankle had finally healed

That day, Sara came back from classes with snacks and face masks to celebrate, and you placed a green goo on your face as you watched movies as you snacked happily

You hair in a messy hairdo, pajamas at six o’clock, and a green facial mask in your face, the both of you, and you believed it was a good idea to answer the door to whomever was knocking, asking him to come in

It was Cregan

“Why everytime I see you I have something on my face?”, you asked, now feeling embarrassed

He looked at the both of you watching a funny movie with an entertained look on his face

“Hey you”, he greeted, “Now that it's been two weeks since your little accident, I was wondering if you wanna’ catch the last week of Arthur Deyne’s screening”, your face lit up, not that he could see it, because of the  the green goo

“I’d love to”, you whispered

“Tomorrow at five?”, he asked, you nodded 

“You came all this way to ask her?”, teased Sara, he just looked like she struck him on the face, “all across campus?”, you thought about cleaning your face with your pillow but that would be even more strange

“Well, uh, no I just… didn’t have her number”, 

“Well… we can easily fix that, can’t we?”, she asked, as she typed on her phone, “there it is weirdo”

“Alright… “, he chuckled, he then looked at you, “see you tomorrow”

“See you”, you whispered, he waved awkwardly, and left. Sara turned to you with a silly grin on her face

“Nop, no”, you said

“You have a date with my brother!!!!”, she screeched 

“NO”, you sentenced

“You do!”

“We are only watching a movie”, you muttered, standing up from the bed, you needed to wash your face 

“(Y/N and Cregan… sitting in a tree…”, she forgot the lyrics of the song, and she opened her mouth in thought, “.... kissing!”

“Very original!”, you teased

“You are going to be so cute together, my roomie with my brother”

“Sara…. I don’t know…”, you muttered

“Yes!”

“Oh I don’t want to be that girl”, you whined with teasing smile, Sara cackled

“You won’t!”, she said

“I don’t want to ruin this!”, you said, pointing at her and then at yourself, “I love you Sara, you are my friend, I don’t want to lose you over a boy!”

“You won’t!”, she laughed, “Cregan is not like that! she is actually a very decent man” 

“I chose a man over a friend once, and I don’t want to do that again!”, you tried to reason

“And I’m telling you that you won’t have to!”, she insisted, “my brother is a genuinely nice guy and I promise you that if it works out it's going to be amazing, and if it doesn't… it will end gracefully, and we won’t have to separate because it didn’t work out!”, she explained

“I don’t even know if he wants to…!”

“He does!”, she said, giggling, you sighed

“Let’s see, alright?”, you said, not that convinced. You liked Cregan, you did. but it felt strange, you remembered what it was like when you liked someone, had a crush, your stomach flipped, butterflies inside, you start to feel nervous, to say something foolish, or do something, the expectation running high, you wanted him to notice you

Is he looking at me?

Does he think I'm pretty? smart? funny? nice?

When you saw Cregan it wasn't like that, you felt calm, some sort of relief, like you were glad he had arrived

The problem started when you believed or thought about doing something else

Even thinking about being with someone, or going on a date, or being intimate, made your skin crawl, your stomach made summersaults

But he was so nice, a normal guy, would he… wait for you? would he mind spending time with you expecting… nothing, in return?

“Alright let’s finish the movie”, she said, seeing that you got lost in your thoughts 

You didn’t even get to do that, and your phone dinged

Hey, it’s Cregan 😊

Hey - you texted back -

So now you have my number… 

Indeed, I’m excited about the movie tomorrow - you texted easily, looking over at Sara who was just too distracted to notice, you didn’t want to hide from her, but you certainly didn’t want her to build up her expectations 

Mee too, they say is the best one yet! - he texted quite quickly

Do you want to meet up at the cinema? I will need directions though haha - you said cheekily

I’ll meet you in your dorm and then we can take a bus or sm, don’t worry, I’ll guide you ;)

“Great! 4:30 then? it sounds silly but I like to watch the trailers for the upcoming movies

It doesn’t sound silly, I like to watch them too - you smiled warmly

Oh great! - you teased - you are shaping up to be a hell of a good movie partner -. were you going too far? you felt nervous

Well, let’s see how you like the popcorn - he texted with a blushing smiley face

Sweet, with M&M’s in them

Really? never tried them - well at least he didn’t say no at the gate… like Aemond..,

No

You had to stop that right now

You couldn’t compare

Never 

You are missing out, but how do you like your popcorn? - you asked him

Sweet too, See? we were made to watch movies together haha - that text made you feel so nervous, but good nervous 

Well, yes, I completely believe in movie soulmates - you texted with a small giggle

Sara leaned in and shrieked in your ear

“I wanna’ wear emerald green in my maid of honor dress”

“Very funny”, you mocked, she smiled widely 

You were so determined to not make it look like a date, that you dressed in jeans, a nice shirt, but a hoodie over it, and a big jacket and beanie, it was still very cold outside, and a pair of boots, you did payed attention to your face in more detail, putting some makeup on, nothing very fancy…

“you look lovely”, Sara teased, “you just text me a winky face if you are not coming back at night ok?”, she kept teasing, but she finally let you go to meet Cregan outside

There he was

Dressed in a Maroon color henley, leather jacket, jeans, and urban black sneakers, he even wore a thin scarf and a beanie of his own. When he saw you, he smiled, and you just then

Felt something fluttering inside your belly

“Hey”, you greeted, but then you got all serious, “Arthur”, you called, and he smiled

“Winston”, he said back, all serious, like Arthur Deyne called the owner of the mafia hotel in the movie 

You giggled as he leaned in and kissed your cheek in greeting

“Ready?”, he asked

“Can’t wait”, you teased

“I think if its a good idea we take the Trolly art”

“You still hae trolleys?”, you asked all excited, he laughed

“Yes, we needed to help defrosting as much as we could as a state so we brought back all the goods”

“I love that”, you started walking out of campus in a comfortable silence, you haven’t been out in the town much, you needed to see the capital of the North

Contrary to the State of the Crownlands, the cities of the North were smaller, but there were more of them, king’s Landing was the biggest city, and then the others were small towns all around, but in the North, all cities stayed and grow in similar rates, so Winter’s Town wasn’t a metropolis, still held that beautiful and quiet town feeling…

The snow still lingered as you watched the well and softly lighten streets

“Winter’s Town is so beautiful”, you look up at him, who was taller than you, and catched him looking back at you, and smiled warmly

“i can see it”, he whispered, “your face says it all”, you chuckled, embarrassed

“What face?”, you mocked

“Your face of wonder and marvel”, he said back, you giggled, feeling again the butterflies 

You arrived at the small station and soon enough the Trolley passed, you climbed up and led you to the center of the Town, as Cregan stated the small cinema was

And when you got there… It looked like the one from an old movie, preserved since it was built many years ago. Even though it was Friday, it was mostly empty, because probably it was the last week of screening, the movie had premiered a month ago 

“Do you wanna get the tickets and I’ll get the snacks?”, you asked

“Sure thing”

Was this a date? you didn’t want to make it look like one, you didn’t want to think it was… so you went for the snacks, even though bought the “couples” combo, big popcorns and two sodas… you didn't get the M&M’s, there wasn’t any at the concession stand. And as you were going to struggle to grab it all in only two hand, Cregan met you there, taking the sodas off your hands

“Got them”, he said calmly

“Thanks”, you whispered, you smiled at each other, every little interaction about him and you felt like something meaningful, everytime you looked into his eyes made you believe this meant something for him, and in a second, you found yourself wanted this to be a real date

You started to walk to the screening room

“I brought you something”, he whispered, juggling with both sodas to take something out of his jacket pocket

You gasped when he offered you a huge package of M&M’s 

“You remembered”, you said

“Of course I did, I was so curious to try it and I remembered the cinema doesn't’ sell them”

“Good job Arthur”, you teased

“Anytime Winston”

The movie… was incredible

Not romantic by any means, so you didn't have much instances to lean into Cregan or him to lean into you, not that you expected it, but you were still a bit nervous, but you jumped and gasped together and complimented the actions sequences, and he devoured your favorite snack as much as you did

And you cried at the end and he surrounded your shoulders with his arm to comfort you.

When it ended, you both couldn’t stop talking.. you talked and talked and kept talking, about the movie itself, about the ones before, about which one was your favorite, you talked so much, neither of you wanted the night to end, and when you reached the trolly stop, you looked at eachother expectantly

“Want to walk?”, you asked, and he nodded enthusiastically

The campus was near, but like half an hour walking, but you kept talking, and when you shivered he offered you his arms and you coiled yours with him and he dragged you near him, so you could get warmer together.

And then the heat of the movie died down, and the talk became more personal

“Did you always want to come up here for school?”, he asked

“Well, I was like sixteen when I realize what I wanted to study, so I discovered this school of design was the greatest, and, we were ebay friends with Jace, and we both agreed we were going to come here together, to fly off the nest”, you told him, “an adventure”

“And what took you a semester?”, he asked lightly, he probably knew trough Jace, but you appreciated that he wanted to know trough you

“Well, I had a boyfriend”, you answered with a shy smile, “he convinced me to follow him Dragonstone U, and… well… “, he knew, he had known about Alys, so… “I decided to take a leap of faith and have trust in us and our future, it didn’t work out”

“I’m sorry”, no he wasn't but you didn't know that

“Well, I’m just relieved it happened so early on, and not two years into the future, you know?”, you asked, smiling, he chuckled

“Oh yeah, I get it”, he said, “do you still talk to him?”

“Oh no”, you said, “never saw him or heard from him since last semester”, that by now, it was like two months ago.

“And you are happy you followed your dreams?”, he asked, and when you looked up at him, you saw something in his eyes…

No… this wasn’t a date, he wasn’t that into you, he just wanted to see the movie, he just wants to add you to the friend group

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as happy as I am now”, you confessed, “this is everything I’ve dreamed of and more”, you said, “Even if they say the first year is the most difficult one, I love the career, and I’m so happy to have Jace back in my life, and I’m happy I met you, and Sara, and Ben, and reconnected with Baela and Rhaena…”

“I’m glad, and I’m more glad I’m part of that dream”, he teased and as you looked at him, he winked, you laughed 

“Did you ever know you were going to study business administration here?”, you asked

“Yes I did actually, completely predictable”

“You never thought about going South?”

“Well, when I was underage, it was more difficult for me”, he said

“Why?”

“My parents passed when I was twelve, and my uncle wouldn’t let me out of his sight”, he said

“I’m sorry”, you whispered

“It’s alright, i’m glad he had me stay here”, he said, “this is my home, and I will have plenty of time to travel once I finish my studies”

“You are right”, you said

“What about your parents?”, he asked

“They are also gone”, you said back, “I was ten”

“I’m sorry”

“Is fine, I have my godmother who took me as her own”, you offered with a wide smile, “I love her”

“She sounds lovely”

“She is”, you said back. And you chit chatted all the way back to campus, and when you finally arrived back, you didn't want to part ways, but it was already late to go eat something, and you were running out of time, you really didn't want to 

And then you were in front of your dorm, and you didn't want to part ways from him, and he didn’t either, you could tell… you looked at each other expectantly.

“It's late but… I think the tavern is still open for an hour or so… would you like to…?”, and then something caught his attention over your, you looked at him and then you turn to look too.

A beautiful girl was walking your way

blonde, sharp blue eyes, dressed in a puffy pink jacket and white wool knitted beanie, jeans and fluffy boots

“Arra?”, asked Cregan, and when you looked back at him, he look like a child had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar

“Cregan, I was looking for you”, she said softly, looking at you but then completely ignoring you

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you”

“I’m busy”, he said defensively, and suddenly, you felt like you were playing the third wheel

“It’s alright”, you said, “we can raincheck”

“Yes you can raincheck”, she muttered urgently. Cregan sighed, and looked at you with puppy eyes

“You are not staying?”, he asked her, “in town?”

“I’m staying with Alyssa, but no, I’m just here for the weekend”

“Then you should talk”, you said, and something inside you didn't like it

“Raincheck on the tavern?”, he asked you, and you smiled and nodded, he leaned in and hugged you, you hugged him back

He waited for you until you reached the glass doors of the dorms, you looked back and the blond had approached him,he looked annoyed

And now you were more annoyed, as you find yourself wanting this to have been a date. 

You arrived back in the dorm and Sara was sleeping, a thing you appreciated and sneakily took your clothes off and got inside the bed, it was cold… 

You grabbed your phone, questioning yourself…

Aemond haven't reached out

Well… You had blocked Aemond, his brother Aegon from instagram, (not that he would contact you) and unfollowed all your common friends, more like, his friends from college who he made you hang with… because you couldn’t bare to see him, and you truly believed that if you saw even a glimpse of him, you would get a panic attack. So maybe that’s why you haven’t heard from him again

Even though he had a huge ego, you found it weird he didn't even reach out to curse you or tell you how bad of a person he thought you were. 

And that is when you decided to check your mail, the spam box

And oh there they were

Hundreds of emails

Of another account, but it was clearly him

Even reading the titles you saw his own journey of mourning your relationship…

Denial

“...Maris said you left, and I don’t believe you would do something like this…”

Anger

“...It’s alright, really, now I see how selfish and short sighted you really are…”, he even dared mentioned Alys in that one, the audacity

Bargaining

“...The baby isn’t even mine, that whore lied to me…”, that one you read, Alys tried to baby trap him, and he made her do the Amnio, which was a very dangerous DNA test, and it turned out it wasn’t even his

Depression

“...I can’t believe I lost you, and I'm begging you to give me another chance…together we could rule the seven states…”

And Acceptance never came 

You thought long and hard about it… now that you had time to cool off… 

No, the anger was still there, and you couldn’t forgive him, not ever, he was a nineteen year old man, yes she was older, but he wasn’t a kid, he knew exactly was he was doing, besides, you were not compatible anymore… he dind’t make you happy any longer, and it took you to see him fucking another woman to realise it

No aspect of your relationship was making you happy

Only the praxis was left 

You had made the right decision, even though you did feel like you had things left unsaid, in a relationship that had meant so much for you and your families, since you knew each other since forever…

But coming back to the present...

Who was that girl? they clearly had unfinished business, but before that, has it been a date? did you wanted it to be? he had been so thoughtful and kind... you liked him!

Gods you were confused

taglist! <3

@mxtokko@princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @iloveallmyboys @speedyballoonpainter

#misguidedneed #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction

[ughigottaheadache]

Eddie Dear theory for Welcome Home.

I was sucked into Welcome Home less than 24 hours ago and already my mind has been firing like crazy. One thing I’ve been curious about it there’s no mention of what happens at night besides the cast sleeping/not active, assumably safely tucked away in their homes.

I’ve seen many assume ‘night time’ is actually the studio being shut down for the day with all the lights off, which I agree with. Obviously something bad happens to puppets/people who are outside at night, as evidenced by art of Wally giving his most heebie jeebies inducing stare saying smth along the lines of ‘you shouldn’t be out at night’ or whatever.

What caught my attention after thinking about this was a tidbit from the site.

There are only two clocks in the entirety of Home. The town clock, and the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

All the others seem fine with only having the town clock, so why does Eddie specifically need a watch?

We know he’s clumsy but he always eventually got his work done, so he wasn’t normally forgetful, yet he needed to be reminded to stay in his home when night fell.

I’d like the draw your attention to these companion pieces. I’ve circled what I’m going to be talking about.

As you can see, Eddie does not have his watch in the first image. Clown does not seem the type to forget something like that, which tells me that this was intentional.

My thought process is the first image is when Eddie was still quite new to Home and was increasingly curious as to how he doesn’t remember why he moved there and why he can’t remember his original home besides a small fact about his mother, and numerous places that he’s delivered mail to. So, at this point he has not gotten his watch.

Eddie sneaks out at night to find out more, but in the process is either attacked or knocked out by whatever entity has given the puppets and Home life. Obviously being more in the know of what’s going on, Wally knows and finds him. I say that I think it’s set at night purely bc of how dark the background is. If it was set during the day I’d think Clown would’ve made it lighter. Also with how stressed Wally looks in the original image I think he’s also new to this, this is the first time someone has gotten hurt on ‘his watch’.

So, Wally collects him and drags him back the the Neighbourhood, he’s still knocked out and Eddie spends the night unconscious in Home. While he’s out, Wally attaches a watch to Eddie. Either hoping his friend just forgot about the time or to make sure Eddie couldn’t make excuses about being out at night again. Maybe it’s connected to the entity to project a compulsion to stay at Home and not wander at night. I wonder if the others in the crew also have something like this if it’s the case.

Ultimately I feel Wally wants all of his neighbours to be safe and happy, I think he genuinely cares about them.

What do you think?

#welcome home #welcome home arg #Wally darling #Eddie dear #welcome home theory #theory

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie

I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.

I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.

The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.

The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).

The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.

The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.

Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).

Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.

Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.

Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.

Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.

Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.

Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!

Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.

Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.

PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.

#some other things i wanted to mention but didn’t seem significant to put in the review (+ it was getting rather long) are: #Clemensia you were so pretty & did not desserve to die #like who hasn't cheated on their homework a little #may my hair look as good as your's if i ever get bit by a snake #dill & wovey rest in peace my darlings #Lysistrata it wasn't your fault #Arachane you got what you deserved tbh #reaper you have my respect forever king #lumina really said kill um with kindness #no but sersiously i love you girl & your 1950's farm girl aesthetic #marcus you did not desserve that & sejanus is sorry & in my heart you guys meet up & become boyfriends in the afterlife #treech you didn't leave much of an impression but at least your hat was cool #bobbin my little germin looking boy #at least you gave Snow a good scare before your demise #coral looks gay like that's a lesbian right there #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes review #thg tbosas #thg tbosbas #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas review #tbosbas review #thg tbosas review #thg tbosbas review #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes review #southern gothic is my new fravriote genre #review

[sleepanonymous]

I think I’m mentally in a good enough headspace to finally write about this. This will be a ranty post, so skip it if you’d like. I’m also not going to pretend I’m not wildly speculating here. I do not know Vessel, nor am I a mental health professional. This is just me rambling into the void; I did my best to make it coherent.

So, to start, we’ll need the message from Vessel that he played during his The Room Below set and the text on screen from the Fall For Me music video. Since I’ll call back to them, I’ve transcribed both below.

Fall For Me:

The truth is I am due a harsh lesson in truth itself and how bitter it can be. Will you teach me? The truth is I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost, I am no god. The truth is, I want, to want, to live, and so do you. I just can’t do this any longer. I am afraid. Are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go. So for now let me live as a living drama of your pain. If we are to be submerged let us be submerged together.

Vessel’s Room Below Message:

We are here to silently connect. To project ourselves onto one another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget. We are here to worship. Some time ago, I was given a message. It was a message that originated from one of you. Someone possessed by a strong desire to tell me something. The message read very simply: You saved me. I have thought about this message a great deal since. It left me with a feeling that I have somehow been mistaken for someone else. I did not save anyone. I do not believe I have the capacity to save anyone. All I have ever given anyone was a small window into the emotional waiting room of my mind. I do so whilst doing everything in my power to minimize my own vulnerability. In this way, I am selfish. I chose not to give what others can, and yet I am the benefactor of this thankful praise. |I experience a great deal of pain in my life. However, I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered. I would also like to take this chance to tell you something. To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. My own path towards a place of greater self-acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path that I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else. I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask. So, in this sense, the message I received was true, but only in an inverse sense. The truth is I did not save anybody. You saved me.

For a bit of background, the Fall For Me music video was released in September of 2021, right before the release of TPWBYT. The Room Below show was initially set for January 2022. It was postponed twice due to COVID-19 and was finally set for the end of April 2022. To be honest, most bands would have just cancelled the show after it was postponed, especially if it was a single show, not part of a tour, and not meant for the entire band to be present. According to an online article, the show itself even started half an hour later than it was supposed to. Again, I’m wildly speculating, but Vessel wanted to do this show specifically to deliver his Room Below message. He doesn’t communicate any other way with his fans aside from the occasional chuckle on stage and his awful (/affectionate) heart hands. So what else was he supposed to do in order to respond to that person who told them that he, specifically, saved their life?

Let me back up a bit. Again, this is speculation, but I believe this person with their strong desire to communicate their message to Vessel did so before the music video for Fall For Me was released in September of 2021. It’s possible the message came after, but before makes the most sense (at least to me). I say this because the music video for the song has no direct connection to the lyrics. The base subject matter for Fall For Me is about longing and wanting someone who does not want you back, at least not in the same way.

On the other hand, the music video is Vessel (or a character he is portraying, if that makes you feel more comfortable) committing suicide by sea, and, upon first watch, the words on the screen are his suicide note. With closer examination, this is not the case. The words on the screen, though some statements do seem like they belong in a suicide note, are more like a precursor to Vessel’s Room Below speech, especially with the “I want to want to live, and so do you” quote. Even more than that, the statements show Vessel disproving himself and his importance to Sleep Token fans.

“I am ugly”, “I am inadequate”, “I am selfish”, “I am nothing without this mask.” With these four quotes, I’ll move on to the second part of this post. These four statements are coming from a man with severely diminished self-worth. Plainly, Vessel is struggling, or, to use his word, he is suffering. Without pulling more from his music, these quotes alone are a tell-tale sign that Sleep Token’s anonymous marketing strategy has backfired in the most spectacular way for Vessel. While it has captured the attention of over two million monthly listeners on Spotify and garnered over ninety-nine million views on YouTube, the anonymity has ruined Vessel’s self-esteem.

With the above stated, I believe he’s still on board with keeping up the anonymity of Sleep Token. To be frank, I think he’s the only member of Sleep Token who is still 100% on board with the gimmick. The Vesselettes recently unmasked back in July 2023 (good for them; they deserve to be recognized and praised for their talents), and there are multiple accounts of II, III, and IV walking around festivals and venues unmasked, sometimes even wearing their full stage costumes sans masks. Vessel relies on his masked identity like a crutch to deliver his art. He does so because he believes he has to. He plainly stated this fact to the six hundred people at the Lafayette with him in April of 2022 and, by conduit, all of Sleep Token’s fans who have heard the multiple recordings and edits of this message.

The other members, II, III, IV, even the Vesselettes, the old keyboardist, OG IV, and 2020 session player Sam Kubrick, have all achieved variable success without the Sleep Token façade in the public eye. But not Vessel. The best he had was performing on a small stage hosted by his former university at a music festival in 2014. Before that, he struggled to get subscribers on YouTube and played open mic nights at a local café. Vessel didn’t achieve any recognition or fame until after he put on the mask and bought entirely into the idea that his music, his art, should be wholly separated from who he is as a person.

This mindset reminds me of a Miley Cyrus quote (stick with me; I promise this is relevant) from a few years back. She did a podcast interview and said the following about her Hannah Montana persona: “When I looked like myself, when I didn’t have the wig on anymore, no one cared about me. I wasn’t a star anymore.” Her quote helped put Vessel’s statement, “It left me with a feeling that I have somehow been mistaken for someone else”, into perspective. I saw that snippet on YouTube a couple of weeks ago, and it was like everything instantly snapped into place involving Vessel’s insistence on remaining anonymous.

With the above said, do I believe that the anonymity schtick is a trash idea and that the band should ditch it? Absolutely not, because it works. Without anonymity, the band would not have blown up the way they did after The Summoning dropped in January 2023. Without anonymity, there wouldn’t be extra layers of added lore. Without anonymity, there would be no mini ARGs for the fans curious enough to wonder why there are no credits on the songs their streaming services are suggesting to them (thanks for fucking that up, by the way, Apple Music. A+ shitshow right there). We would not have such emotional, beautiful, heart-wrenching songs without Vessel’s anonymity. Vessel has said this last point himself with his quote about minimizing his vulnerability. Would Vessel have had the confidence to put out songs like Bloodsport, Atlantic, High Water, Missing Limbs, or even Vore without his mask to shield him? In Vessel’s words, all he has given his fans is “a small window into the emotional waiting room of [his] mind.” But what a gifted, beautiful, turbulent, fractured, and brilliant waiting room we have been allowed to see.

In closing, whoever it was that gave Vessel the message about saving their life, I sincerely hope they were in attendance for The Room Below show, and I hope they heard Vessel’s response. I hope they both, as well as anyone else touched by this interaction between the two, have found support channels for the weight of their pain. I hope that they are happy.

TL;DR Vessel is a beautiful, talented, and humble human being who has and continues to save lives with his music. He deserved so much more attention than he got before Sleep Token. I want Vessel to know this (even though he will never see this post). However, I also do not think that he and the other boys should not drop Sleep Token’s anonymity act at the expense of their comfort.

#sleep token #vessel sleep token #vessel #the room below #text post #sleepanon rant #just to be clear #i’m not attacking vessel #or sleep token #or their label/management #or the way they conduct their business #this is my two brain cells rubbing against one another to fire off a neuron in my skull #shocking i know #but it happens sometimes #cw mental health #cw self harm #cw suicide #cw depression #if this needs another cw let me know and i will add it

[damagedintellect]

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 5 💌  

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too okay like a lot of Dazai moments, implied poly but not really

💌 Word count: 2,646 💌 Available Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

After many days and long periods of stress everyone celebrated the fall of the guild. You shared a few drinks with Yosano and Kunikida but noticed that Dazai was missing. He must be at the art gallery with Hirotsu you thought. Things were only going to get harder moving forward. You should tell him about your real identity soon. Your real fake identity that is. Now that the book was being mentioned you planned to use that to your advantage. The plan was to say that you’ve lived through this before but were written out of your original timeline via the page and when you woke up at the riverbank you didn’t know what to think. If he asked why you didn’t say anything sooner you could say that you thought this was purgatory. Whether or not he bought it would be a different story but you were hoping he would at least consider it to be an option. 

Unbuttoning your shirt you heard footsteps outside your door. Dazai had the room next to yours so you wonder if he was just getting back. Although they didn’t sound like his footsteps. Come to think of it, he was always really light on his feet for someone that tall. You glanced at the door once you heard your lock click. Who could have the key to your room? You pushed yourself to lay flat against the wall. You didn’t have any weapons so you hoped it was just Dazai going to the wrong room because if it's someone outside of the ADA you were screwed. The door opened and the smell of wine hit your nose. 

“Lis’en h'er asshole-”

You came out of hiding to see a very drunk Chuuya in the doorway. “Chuuya?” he closed the door and stumbled over to you confused. 

“Whatcha doi'n in Dazai’s room?” 

You watched him sway before you reached out to steady him. “You overshot by one room. Though I think you need to lay down a bit.” He leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. “He can’t ave you. Need you on my side. He'll 'ave you lie too me” This was weird. Oh so weird. This only happened in fanfiction. You don't remember this from the show. Of course you knew that Chuuya had drunk called Dazai before but you never imagined he'd drunkenly break into his apartment.

He wrapped his hands around you and mumbled something into your neck “Smells nice.” Your neck has always been sensitive, feeling a pleasant tingling where his breath grazed your skin. Tentatively you put your arms around the redhead and stay like that for a bit, while you think about what you were supposed to do in this situation. Of course you've always wanted to give him a hug but not like this. You barely heard him slur out "We gotta be close right?" When you felt him kiss your neck. Grasping you pushed him back instantly like he weighed nothing, he didn’t try resisting you. You were so torn right now. You wanted this but at what cost. What would happen when he snapped out of it? 

“Tha was cute. Do it again.”

His face was red but his eyes were locked with yours, half lidded. You saw his eyes trail down your body and remember he caught you in the middle of changing. What are the odds he'd remember this tomorrow? You were still wearing a bra so whatever but what were you supposed to do with him?

“Let’s lay down for a bit and I’ll think about it okay. Can you take your shoes off?” He nodded, taking his coat off too as he followed you like a lost puppy to your futon. He slowly fell into it dragging you down with him. You landed on top of him with a soft thud. His hat rolled off to the corner of the room. You hoped whoever had the room below yours wasn’t back yet or was fast asleep already. You actually don’t know what time it was anymore. You tried to push yourself off but he held you in place “Don go”

“I’m not I’m just-” you weren’t able to finish your sentence before you felt the sensation of being weightless. The next thing you knew Chuuya had flipped you over so he was sprawled out on top of you preventing you from leaving. “Stay” he trailed off. You were weak to him, you already knew that. Kissing his cheek you pulled him closer wrapping your arms around him. “I’m not going anywhere.” You stayed like that until his breath evened out and eventually sleep came for you.

—

“My sleeping beauty, it's time to get up!” Dazai knocked on the door once again. You didn’t seem like the type to drink yourself silly so he wondered what’s up. Everyone had been trying to get a hold of you the next morning after the party to make sure you were okay. Ranpo suggested that Dazai be the one to check your room since your phone was going straight to voicemail. So here he was knocking on your door. He waited a bit but still didn’t get a response. He leaned back on the railing stretching his back when his eyes caught a glimpse of something red. He turned around to see a very familiar motorcycle. That’s odd, he thought. For a second he could have sworn that it was Chuuya’s. "Now why would?" His eyes snapped wide. Both Dazai and Chuuya had the habit of breaking into each other's places when they were drunk. It’s why Dazai doesn’t let himself get wasted anymore. He banged on your door again before shouting “I’m coming in!” He swiftly picked the lock and burst through the door. 

In your sleep you heard knocking that slowly stirred you awake. You tried to get up but you forgot Chuuya fell asleep on top of you and you headbutted the other causing them to wake with a start. “Fuck!” you both stare at each other stunned when Dazai forced the door open. Dazai looked to Chuuya and back to you and Chuuya did the same. The scene in front of Dazai was extremely out of context. From the doorway it must look like Chuuya was undressing your helpless form with the way you were both sprawled out on the futon. You covered your face and groaned as Dazai stormed over to pry Chuuya off of you. You stayed still as the yelling match started above you. Watching them for a bit you had no idea how you ended up in this situation. They were physically in each other's faces, Chuuya’s was red and Dazai’s eyes looked like they could kill. You wondered why. You couldn't tell if it was just based on the principle alone or if Dazai was jealous or what. Dazai is a fucken enigma.

You sat up rubbing your face. “Okay that’s it everyone shut the fuck up and sit your asses down!” 

They both stopped what they were doing and slowly sat down. Glaring at each other. “Why is he here?” Dazai scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Technically he was looking for you, but we also have a very interesting relationship." You were trying to calm your nerves by fixing your bedhead. Chuuya became very rigid at your comment. You guessed you could have worded it better too but they were giving you a headache.

Dazai looked down at your exposed upper half and then back to your eyes. You still didn't get the chance to button up your shirt. It doesn't matter to you, they're freakin adults. If they can't stomach seeing a bra or two you'd be surprised since knowing that in their pasts with the mafia they've seen much worse. 

"Chuuya came over drunk and thought this was your room. I made him stay the night because he couldn’t even walk by the time he got through my door.” you paused seeing them both stare at you buttoning your shirt. For some reason you were more flustered at them watching you cover up than being exposed. Chuuya was avoiding eye contact but you could tell he was glancing at your chest. He was probably wondering if he undressed you. You wonder what Dazai must think. Nothing good presumably god what a mess. "Got it?" You finished matter of factly trying to seem uninterested. On the inside was a different story. This scenario was like a self-indulgent fanfic. You were screaming. You don't know If this is what you've always dreamed of or if this was a nightmare.

Dazai’s serious expression morphed into something less hostile and more mischievous. "Wow, who knew the chibi could be so forward and with the enemy no less." Dazai chided even though the PM and the ADA were both currently in a truce for the time being. Dazai put a hand up to prevent Chuuya from seeing his mouth but made no effort to change the volume he was speaking at. "(Y/N) do you need me to get you a morning after pill? We don't want the slug to reproduce now do we?"

You and Chuuya made the same horrified expression at Dazai’s words. Both of you were red while Dazai reveled in your torment. 

"You bastard, it's not even like that!" Chuuya grabbed him by the collar of his shirt but Dazai frowned for a second before replacing it with a shit eating grin. "Oh I get it so you guys want it to be like that.~" He smiled darkly at both of you yelling at the same time.

"I'm not discussing my sex life with you Dazai!"

"Shut up I'm not discussing my sex life with you asshole!"

You and Chuuya redirected your attention to each other. Both of you were starting to mirror the same shade of red. Dazai laughed "You guys are even speaking at the same time. Talk about two becoming one." Chuuya glared back at him, starting to shake trying to hold back his anger.

You groaned "Please stop. You might be immune to Chuuya’s ability but I'd like to point out that my room and I are susceptible to damage." You wacked Dazai’s shoulder "I know I don't have to explain because you're smart enough to figure it out but you're acting like a child. I thought you've grown past this."

Dazai smirked again "At least some of us have grown-" this time Chuuya punched his arm. He stood up and grabbed his coat and discarded hat, growling "I can't stand him when he's like this. Tell me if you know anything new." Chuuya slipped his shoes on and paced out of the door. You flopped back down on the futon to stretch. "Geez I don't understand how Mori tolerated you two let alone Hirotsu." After you stretched you started getting ready for real. Dazai being quiet is always a scary thing. You could feel his stare burning through your skull. "Out with it. I've been meaning to talk to you anyways."

"You know then, if Chuuya is human."

"I do but I haven't told him yet. Currently I'm leading him on because he misunderstands how my "ability" works," you used air quotes "well lack thereof. It's probably for the best to have the mafia think I have some weird foresight. Since I'm giftless here." You stare at Dazai but he's unfazed. "I didn't want to lie to you but I didn't know what to do. I know things I'm not supposed to. I haven't been that secretive about it but I also didn’t have the time to explain myself either." You turned to look him in the eyes “I’m not from this timeline and the problem is I don’t know how much I can say without causing some anomaly. That's mostly why I don't know If I should tell Chuuya. I’m sure you’re familiar with the book Francis was after. A group called The decay of angle’s got a hold of a page and supposedly wrote me out of existence? My memory leading up to why they went so far to get rid of me is hazy but then I woke up in the past. You were there for the rest.”

Dazai sighed looking at the ceiling “That is strange. It is possible that since they wrote you out of existence it forced you out of your reality and into another, presumably one that lined up with a similar universe where you were about to die. That would explain the manner we found you in as well." Dazai sighed "This ruins my original running theory about you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. The rats already started making their move and now he'd have to worry about the DOA, just great. "This isn't good. Knowing that the decay of angle’s got their hands on a page in a different timeline isn't reassuring for our reality."

“I’ve been trying to keep everything as close to the other reality as I can to avoid butterfly effects but my personal existence is drastically different from my timeline so I don't think it matters. You’re the only one I’ve told for obvious reasons.” you stood up offering him a hand. "Although now that you know, do you mind if I gave you a hug?"

He looked at you quizzically "I don't mind but can I ask why?"

You pulled him close standing on your tippy toes to reach. "I never got the chance to tell "my" Dazai how much I've always loved and appreciated his existence. We may not have the same relationship as my reality but presumably you still had the same experiences." You cupped his face to pull him down enough to kiss his forehead. "Knowing that, it probably sucked worse without me there." You ruffled his hair as you finally let go giving him some space. You hoped that was good enough to spark something. You couldn't help yourself.

Dazai had been tense the whole exchange. His face formed an expression you haven't seen. He was genuinely in awe at your words. Even when you were finished showing him affection he seemed too shocked to process everything. He was too bewildered at the sentiment. The way it made him feel uncomfortable but warm, was he dying? Jokes aside, your words are what struck a nerve. What were you to him? Was this why when he saw Chuuya pinning you to the floor he felt, you know Dazai didn't actually know what he felt. He didn't understand it or maybe he just didn't want to. 

"What were we in your timeline." It came out as more of a demand than a question. 

"We never put a label on it, I don't think you were capable of that at the time and especially not after your defection. You gave me an out too but someone had to stay with Chuuya. I didn't want him to lose both of us at the same time." You really pray this doesn't come back to bite you in the ass. You have to believe your lie with every fiber of your being because the moment Dazai realizes it's a farce you're fucken done. You didn't think you were that manipulative of a person but here you are. All for the sake of your comfort characters. Maybe you did belong in the port mafia.

Dazai didn't pry anymore. The others were probably wondering where you two were anyhow. Kunikida probably thought Dazai was skipping work. On the way there he looked lost in thought of course you couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in and a complete lie. You might be playing God a little too much now but you got to hold both of your boys so if you are to die, you can die happy.

<= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

#the BSD isekai au no one asked for #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #xreader #x reader

[eva-reviews]

The Invisible Life of Addie LeRue by V. E. Schwab -- A Review

Trigger Warnings: Death, starvation, suicide attempt, depression,  drug addiction, alcoholism, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, mentions of rape, prostitution, emotional manipulation, abusive relationship, war, imprisonment, mentions of WWII, sexism, grief, homelessness, family trauma, mentions of homophobia. 

My Rating 

10/10. My best friend has been telling me to read this for 3 years, and I finally got around to it. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint at all. The way that I felt Addie's pain, joy and fear was incredible, and the little twist at the end was so good. The characters developed and evolved so well. Since Addie has lived 300 years, it does give you a lot to work with, with how she can change, grow and develop. Same with Luc, he was such an amazing character. He is definitely the epitome of chaotic neutral, satisfying his own needs before others, but by no means evil. He has his rules and he plays within them. Luc is neither a villain nor hero. I really love morally grey characters, they are so much fun, and because they are neither good nor bad, you don’t really know what they will do next. 

Overview

Addie LeRue asks for a wish she doesn’t understand the consequences of. Being able to live forever and be remembered by no one, is a sure way to become a living ghost. Still determined to find adventure and love, she wanders around in the big wide, ever-changing world, completely alone. Well, except for Luc, who asks every year if she has had enough, asks if she is ready to rest in exchange for her soul. And every year, Addie declines, continuing on to spite Luc. Their back-and-forth game of lies, testing, and gentle touches goes on for three hundred years, until, someone remembers her. And her once lonely existence is not so lonely anymore. 

My Thoughts 

This whole book revolves around time and feeling like you don't have enough of it. Addie asks for more time saying “... so scared of the years rushing past beneath my feet. I do not want to die as I’ve lived, which is no life at all … I want more time” (pg 46). Luc comments how humans need more time when he is showing Addie how different they are. He states “The vexing thing about time is that it’s never enough. Perhaps a decade too short, perhaps a moment. But a life always ends too soon.” (pg 333). This is something I think everyone can relate to, I’m constantly hearing, ‘Time is flying’, ‘I can’t believe how fast they grow’, or ‘It's already been a year?’. Even for myself, it feels as though every year is passing faster than the last. You always need more time, more time to learn, to love, to live. There will never be enough time “God, what he would give for just another day” (pg. 422). It can be really depressing to think about, how, we as humans only have a little to accomplish so much. But it can also be so invigorating because we don't have a long time we have to do things that matter, that we enjoy. After all, we won't always have the time to do so. 

“Because happiness is brief and history is lasting, and in the end, everyone wants to be remembered” (pg 351) 

Everyone can relate to this quote. No matter who you are or what you do. People want to be remembered. Whether it is through graffiti, books, inventions or art, people want to leave a lasting impression. 

Luc is neither a demon nor a god, Luc has no gender and he is absent of appearance. He simply appears how you want him to appear. For Addie, he is tall dark and handsome. We first meet Luc when Addie feels as though her life is falling apart, she prays after dark and he is the one who answers. When Addie says what she wants, he originally declines “I am not in the business of charity. You ask for too much. How many years until you’re sated? How many, until I get my due?” (pg 47). This deal does nothing to benefit him. It isn’t until Addie says he can have her soul once she is done with it, that he agrees to it. Every anniversary, Luc shows up. Whether or not he makes his presence known, he is always there in the shadows. It originally starts so he can ask if she is ready to give him her soul, to make her cave, saying “Come give me what I want, and the deal will be done, this misery can end” (pg 117) Addie denies him, just to spite him. This continues on for years until it is no longer just to taunt Addie, but it becomes a form of a relationship. Not only is Luc the only person who remembers her and sees her once a year, but Addie is there for Luc. Whether Luc realizes it or not, he desires connection, and Addie has been there for multiple lifetimes, much longer than his normal deals last. 

Henry's curse is for people to see what they want to see. I think that this is something that so many people can relate to. We want to fit in, we want people to like us, and especially, we want the people who we love to be proud of us. Henry goes through his life, before Luc, becomes a disappointment, his brother is a doctor, his sister is an art critic, and Henry dropped out of college. He is the black sheep of the family. His ex-boyfriend, whom he loved and deeply missed, wants him back, Robbie says “You were different, we weren’t a fit … You didn't know what you wanted … You have to know who you are. Back then, you didn’t” (pg. 276), but Henry knows that his feelings are not his real feelings. We all want love, and the things that we will do for love can be drastic, “You want to be loved. You want to be enough” (pg.248). When you know that they don’t love you, they love the idea they have created for you, sure, it feels nice in the beginning. But it doesn't last long, it is not real, and sometimes it can hurt more than not being loved. Because it isn't you. “Henry has no idea who he is, and now, neither does anyone else” (pg 276).  

Throughout Henry and Addies time together, Henry made a point to record Addies life. So people could remember her and speak her name. A year after Addie's disappearance, Henry published her biography as a work of fiction. Not only was he able to keep the memory of Addie alive, so people could, in a way, know her, but he also found something to do. Instead of feeling like he is existing for no reason, just taking up space. I thought it was such a cool idea to have us read the whole book, looking at it as if it was all fantasy. And having that reveal that it was a biography. It really makes us as the audience feel as though we could be part of this world, as we would never remember seeing Addie, and this is a book we just read. And we can really resonate with Bea’s anger at the end of the book when Addie just disappears, we also feel that anger/loss that Addie and Henry are not able to stay together. 

Conclusion

I loved this book. I thought it was so interesting how it jumped around from times. Sure it was a little confusing at times, but it was able to make us understand why Addie would react a certain way, or how it affected her. I think this would be a great first book for someone new to fantasy, as it is low fantasy. Meaning it takes place in our world, with our history. You should definitely read this.

#the invisible life of addie larue #v.e. schwab #book review #historical fantasy #historical fiction #lgbtqia #lgbtq pride #books #review #adult fiction #2020 #queer #fantasy #bisexual #queer relationships

[clunelover]

Okay great, I get to do the intensive outpatient program (half days - mornings) for anxiety/OCD. Starting in a few weeks. I now get to figure out what exactly I say to my boss and when. I’ve done it before but it’s been a long time!

For any of you who didn’t follow me back when I did this - I had terrible PPA after C was born. All my usual anxiety shit was ratcheted up, and I had some new things that seemed to have sprung up due to the Las Vegas shooting happening during my maternity leave. It finally got bad enough that social worker BFF said I should consider treatment.

At the time I did PHP (partial hospitalization - ie full weekdays) and then stepped down to IOP. I think it lasted 10-12 weeks between the two.

The program included some amounts of CBT, DBT, mindfulness, and art therapy, with the bulk of the time being spent on ERP (exposure and response prevention). Just doing exposures to trigger anxiety and sitting with it until it reduces at least by half. This is why I say I don’t want to go back - that shit is HARD. But it really works. Those of us with this flavor of anxiety get in a thought trap where we think anxiety is unbearable and that it won’t go away unless we [insert unhealthy behavior or ritual/compulsion]. But in fact it will eventually go away on its own. I just need to retrain my muscles for tolerating discomfort.

For me, some of the specific exposures were:

- for fear of being wrong, tell someone an incorrect fact on purpose (my favorite was “Massachusetts wasn’t one of the original 13 colonies.”)

- for fear of people thinking I’m weird, face the “wrong” way in an elevator

(Most of these things were done with employees at the facility. Not just random people on the street or something. Oh although one of my things was to send a work email without checking it for typos).

Eventually I built up to something they called “interroceptives” which were activities meant to simulate physical feelings of panic, like spinning in a chair or trying to breathe through a cocktail straw.

Anyway, when I did it the first time, I remember it gave me so much freedom. So many things I’d thought impossible or too scary, I could do. But the disinclination to sit with discomfort can creep back in.

I think my current issues are different than last time I went in! Back then I was still working as a statistician, so I had very specific “I’ve forgotten everything I learned in grad school” thoughts. Now that I do a different type of job, I’m more secure (although less so again with new hard to read boss). My current issues are much more social in nature. I can’t bear talking to other Girl Scout moms. All my friends actually hate me. Etc.

And more agitation about things needing to be “just right.” Almost all household chores except laundry are too overwhelming to start. Anyway, I’m pumped to get it all sorted out! And I hope my favorite mental health specialist is still there although that’s unlikely cause I think it’s a high turnover job. But we shall see!

#cw gun violence #cw shooting #cw mental health #actually ocd

[greatcheshire]

How would you rank your vids based on how much you like them?

Ah yes!! I can answer this one

The Many Adaptations of Berserk: I feel like it has to be this one as my fav. There’s parts of the video I wish I could redo (mainly the audio), but to put out such labor of love and have it receive such a positive response back, it’s so fulfilling. From people telling me it got them into Berserk to survivors messaging me to tell me how much the video meant to them. It’s a sense of pride and accomplishment that I never thought I’d ever feel with my art.

Spider-Man Musical: This, for me, feels like the prime example of what I want my channel to be: exploring relatively obscure things in a way that shows how strange they are while also taking it seriously and really examining them. As someone who has been fascinated with this musical for over a decade, finally finding a way to make an essay about it and letting people know about things like the spider fucking and the shoe song.

Dollar Store Game Show: I wish I could redo the audio here. God I wish I could redo the audio here. That being said, I’ve always seen this as the hidden gem of my channel, and whenever I talk to other creators, chances are this is the video of mine they bring up. The Facebook conspiracy “In Motion” part might be my favorite editing gag I’ve ever done

Demo Reel: I would’ve ranked this much lower if I hadn’t rewatched it a few weeks ago for the new Demo Reel vid. Despite some first time video mistakes that I would happily fix if I could, I think the script here is really solid and could have been way worse. I get why people like this one so much. I probably would’ve been really into this video if I wasn’t the one who made it. I still can’t believe I actually got away with the Evangelion intro gag.

Kitchen Nightmares: I started outlining this video back in my college days. I rewatched it about a month ago and my main note is that it feels like a video anyone could’ve made on Kitchen Nightmares, for better or for worse, and lacks a lot of the… personal energy I like to include in these things? But I still think it’s pretty solid. I also meant to include an entire segment on Nathan For You and just… forgot to lmao oops

The Return of Demo Reel: This one is still so new that I haven’t fully processed my feelings on it. This is probably the meanest video I’ve done so far lol I wasn’t sure how much the two halves would connect together, especially since it’s the only video I’ve done so far that isn’t broken up into segments but is rather scripted as one long thing. The stinger is my second favorite stinger I’ve ever done for the channel. I’m so glad that landed for people as I almost cut it entirely lol

The Cinemassacre Backlash: It feels weird to rank this one so low. I still am proud of the result, but I also think it has the same issue as Kitchen Nightmares where it’s like oh, anyone could’ve made that. I did like getting to interject my perspective into the discourse as someone who co-writes and makes online content and I have gotten a lot of praise for this one by my peers which has been nice. Having it blow up so much was wild and has definitely been a career benefit, even if I’m unsure if I’ll ever do a video like this again

Harley and Ivy: I don’t know why but I can’t help but feel like I could’ve made this one better. I’m not sure how, but it just feels like it exists to me. I actually didn’t even remember that I did the whole thing with the Be Gay, Do Crime scale until I saw it referenced on my TV Tropes page

Lost Film About Internet Memes: This one is fine but it sits in a lower place in my head for a lot of reasons. First being that a lot of personal life stuff surrounding the release and aftermath of the video. Second being my hatred of the original thumbnail and the belief that it tanked that video in a way it’s only now recovering from, which affected future business dealings and negotiations and algorithm stuff. Then the fact that this is the only time I’ve regretted going soft in one of my videos. I originally put more stuff in the script about how I believed the guy who made it was a grifter who seems to do a lot of scams but I changed it to make it more subtext and less of a personal attack and then in the aftermath of the vid it turns out, oops, this guy had a history of screwing people over and grifting and jumped into cryptocurrency because of course he did. I don’t think I’d ever revisit this subject, but if I had a time machine, I would’ve had way more testimonials in the vid from former PopMalt people.

Existential Horror Of Making Content About Content: The nicest thing I can say about this one is that it was the first time I ever made a thumbnail myself and I’m actually pleased with how it turned out, all things considered. Otherwise I can’t see myself ever watching this again

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m too harsh on my own work lol I just have a unique relationship to it, I think. I’m generally proud of my videos, even if I do have issues with them as their creator.

[promptcorner]

I need to talk about this cat:

Here’s why:

It’s a dumb reason, but it’s still a reason. So, don’t attack anyone or assume anything. This is just a rant.

Way back in 2015, my dad was writing a new song for this challenge he set for himself. I don’t remember the specifics, but he was surfing the web and found the Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty Meme. However, at the time, it wasn’t called Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty. It was mostly called Butterfly Rainbow Unicorn Cat.

I think most people know the image I’m referring to. I can’t find the original post.

The name was mostly undecided, so Dad went with Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty because it rolled off the tongue.

He made a song that revolved around the meme and commissioned me to make an album cover. You all probably know where this is going.

I was, I think twelve when I made the cover. I was new to drawing digitally and was trying some things out.

If anyone is curious or wants to listen to my dad’s song, here’s the link:

The song discusses international issues, internet stuff, and life’s hardship but shifts focus to the Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty. Because, “Nothing could be wrong cus it looks so pretty!”✨🦋🎶

But yeah, I drew that cover. The name Bellapink5 was an old internet name I used before changing it to Bellapinkpen.

Anyways, cut to high school a few years later in 2019 and my dad tells me that some of his students at school (he’s a music teacher) told him that someone at Nick copied this song’s album cover.

Of course he goes, “What the H?” And looks it up. Low and behold he finds RBUK and tells me about it at dinner that night. We both thought, “What the H?” Because Felicity looks almost identical to the original meme and my drawing, the theme song is super close to Dad’s song too. It’s not by much, but it’s hard to deny someone at Nick didn’t see or hear any of these things and mishmashd them together. Because that original photoshopped cat, album art, and Dad’s song were the only threads that stuck out the most when searching Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty.

It’s actually very obvious when looking at these pictures close together. When you search Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty, this is what you get:

I told a few friends and my grandparents about this, because I was a bit upset that a big company decided to use something that the internet made, something that I was involved in, but didn’t do anything with it!

I completely forgot about it after ranting for a bit. The show got cancelled and things moved on. But the memory came back and I decided to look some episodes up, to see if they really copied the album.

I watched Alpha Jay’s video essay on the matter, saying it kinda copied Unikitty. I do think Unikitty had a part to play. Because it’s existence definitely was a push for the show to be made in the first place. But I don’t think the art came from that show.

Then I stumbled onto Vailsklbum’s video and he literally shows Dad’s album in his video as a possible source of inspiration for this show along with the meme. My mouth literally dropped.

I know this show is like, four years old. But I need to rant again.

I’ll break down what both Jay’s video and Vail’s video pointed out that everyone in my family and friends noticed when looking at Felicity’s design…

I’ll do so in a reblog.

#I don’t mean any shade #I’m apologize if anyone gets upset at this #but I can’t hold it in any longer #i need to say this #cats #rainbow butterfly unicorn kitty #Youtube #my god it goes on

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 11: Split

(Disclaimer: the characters here do not belong to me. Both Wilford Warfstache and William J. Barnum/The Colonel belong to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe.)

(Please note that the concept this story revolves around isn’t something I originally came up with. That honor goes to @ghiertor-the-gigapeen, who posted this amazing piece of art last October! Please check out their blog and show them some love!!!)

(Trigger Warnings: descriptions of body horror, blood/gore, fear/panic, trauma/flashbacks, pain and suffering, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 12 Day 13

“Say, have you ever tried your hand at writing?” Wilford casually inquires, titling his head and pressing his index finger against his temple. 

You hum at the question, wracking your brain. “I’m. . .not sure, honestly. I mean, I probably have at some point, but all the conflicting timelines make it hard to tell.” There’s a generous amount of sarcasm in your voice. So much, in fact, that you have to concentrate on emphasizing the right words.

Of course, Wilford’s response is an overexaggerated quirk of his lips, his eyes as thoughtful as they are mischievous. “True, true, very true. Sometimes you wish those pesky timelines would just fit in your hands so you could organize them to your taste.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you reply, tone dry enough to make Death Valley look rather lush. 

“BUT,” Wilford, never to not have the last word, continues. “If you could do that, then you wouldn’t really be able to have any more adventures. You wouldn’t get to be surprised or horrified! Things would go from challenging and unforgettable to. . .thoughtless and predictable. Sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate whatever comes to grip at your mind or heart!”

His hands are a blur as he throws out one dramatic gesture after another. His expressions follow suite, obviously. Even so, the conniving ember in his eyes never completely fades away. In fact, that ember seems to glow a bit brighter as he finally returns to sitting still and staring at you. “True beauty really lies in thrill, my friend. There’s just no two ways about it!”

You don’t bother trying to suppress an eye-roll. . .and yet a small, genuine smile still manages to fight its way onto your face. Wilford’s statement is partially undeniable. Sure, you’ve been through hell and back, but you saw so many things along the way. You’ve met all sorts of people. The scenarios you keep finding yourself in are literally anything and everything but boring. 

Yes, your existence and abilities have proven to be a curse. . .but that curse has still shaped itself into a gift more times than you can count. 

That’s why you rang that little call-bell: to be taken here to this studio in order to see this insane, frustrating, omnipotent journalist who you (somehow) still have a soft spot for.

“. . .Y’know, I can’t remember the last time you were so specific with your questions,” you point out, leaning back in your provided chair. “What made you bring up writing, of all things?” 

Wilford tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-tsks at you, raising an eyebrow so high that it could potentially need a drug test. “Sounds like someone has forgotten who’s the interviewer and who’s the interviewee.” 

You spread your arms in a small lame gesture, making sure that your eyes help your incredulousness to be palpable. “Hey, listen. One of these days, the roles are gonna be reversed. MARK my words. I’ll be damned if that doesn’t happen at least once.”

“You make a good argument; there’s a chance something like that has already happened,” Wilford admits. He drags out a conspiratory hum for about ten seconds or so, slipping off his pink afro and fidgeting with it. “Well, writers can be a bit of a rare breed nowadays. They’re plentiful if you’re exploring the right circles, but even then, many are still so shy about their work.” 

“Can’t really blame them for that,” you reply. “Not with how unfair the industries have gotten.”

“Oh, don’t I know it!” Wilford huffs a mirthless laugh. “I used to write for the odd column and blog or two. The readers were lovely, but lemme tell you—”

“The higher-ups were not?” You guess with an empathetic smile, just barely noticing how he’s started to squirm in his seat. 

Wilford groans in exasperation. “Don’t even get me started. They turned their noses up at so many things, you’d think they were each three tapirs in a trenchcoat! I remember thinking, ‘If they’re so desperate for cookie-cut stories to have complete control over, then why don’t they just write these goddamn stories themselves?!’’’

You don’t blink: partially because your eyes aren’t dry, and partially because, if you had, you would’ve missed the mixture of sadness and frustration that just flickered on Wilford’s face. It was a tiny amount, and it’s already been beaten into submission by his trademark coyness. 

But it was genuine. 

“. . .I can tell you why,” you declare. “Because writing requires patience and effort and thought. Heart, too. And in my experience, it’d be a miracle for an employer to have at least one of those things.”

Wilford’s eyes ever-so-slightly widen as your words sink in. Something warm and appreciative etches its way into the smile he’s wearing. 

“Words to live by,” he announces with a proud nod. “I don’t think I ever saw anything like that in my old head-honchos. It was always, ‘ThErE’s No WaY wE cAn PuBlIsH tHiS wItHoUt CeNsOrInG hAlF oF iT.’ ‘jUsT bEcAuSe ThE rEaDeRs LeAvE fEeDbAcK DoEsN’t MeAn YoU cAn InTeRaCt WiTh ThEm.’ ‘OuR sHaReHoLdErS wIlL bE oFfEnDeD bY tHiS.’ ‘rEaDeRs DoN’t NeEd To KnOw AbOuT tHaT.’ ‘wHeRe DiD yOu GeT tHaT kNiFe?’ ‘WhAt ThE hElL aRe YoU dOiNg?’ ‘I’m CaLlInG tHe PoLiCe YoU mAnIaC!’”

The droning pitch he’d put on falls away as he collapses into a fit of chuckling.

You, meanwhile, force out an awkward cough to try and hide the nervous grimace that has crawled into your features.

Even if Wilford is an old friend, even if his heart is sometimes in the right place, you can’t afford to forget that his brain is not. That it hasn’t been for a long time now. And it will probably never be anywhere near the right place again.

Not only that, but the longer you listen to Wilford’s giggling, the more you realize just how. . .off it sounds. As though Wilford’s voice is layered; like something else is trying to worm its way up through his bubbly tone.

“And those trials were just in the world of journalism,” Wilford continues once the hilarity finally dies down. “I can hardly imagine what writers in more creative circles have to go through.”

For seemingly no reason, that statement prompts a tidal wave of adrenaline to come rushing through you. 

“Simply taking notes of things in reality can be so difficult. Just think about how long it’s taken for us to make some actual progress with this interview,” Wilford muses, gesturing to all the twinkling lights that decorate his studio. “But how could that struggle even compare to someone creating an entire world of their own? Birth is already one of the most traumatic things a person is capable of, and that’s just when it happens on the outside. So it’s astounding that anyone can survive birthing so many things inside their little head!” 

Perhaps to drive the point home, he lightly raps his knuckles against his forehead as he returns his pink afro to its rightful place. 

“Could’ve gone my whole life without hearing that analogy,” you blurt. 

“No, I don’t think you could’ve,” Wilford whispers. 

You glare at him as an uncomfortable, oily energy slithers along your ribcage. The fact that Wilford is now visibly shaking doesn’t help. 

“Are. . .are you okay, Wil?” You wonder aloud, your irritation slowly but surely leaning toward paranoia. 

“Peachy!” Wilford answers, gesturing toward his face with a flourish. “Why, does this not look like the face of someone who’s peachy?”

You attempt not to cringe too hard as you offer one of those nod-shrugs, gingerly poking the skin beneath your eyes.

Wilford’s expression contorts with confusion. He rises to stand on the seat of his chair, reaching up toward the ceiling. After producing a hand mirror from somewhere you can’t see, he sits back down and peers at his reflection.

Of course, he doesn’t react to the sight of blood oozing down his cheeks from his tear ducts like most people would. Instead of screaming or fainting or trying to pluck his eyes out in order to keep whatever curse they may or may not be harboring from infecting the rest of his body, Wilford casually tosses the mirror over his shoulder, not acknowledging the sound of glass shattering as he fishes a handkerchief from one of his pockets. 

“Meh, it’s a wednesday. You know how wednesdays are,” Wilford mentions as he begins scrubbing at the small, dark red rivers. 

“I’m not so sure I do,” you murmur. 

You consider suggesting to pause the interview here with an oath to resume it some other day. . .but that consideration evaporates when you remember exactly what happened the last time this interview was interrupted. Gunshots echo between your ears, and your heart more or less threatens to start palpitating. 

Hell, you’re already expecting this interview to be cut short sooner or later; it’s had to be delayed at least sixty-nine thousand, four-hundred-twenty times by now, if memory serves (though, let’s be honest, it probably doesn’t). 

But despite everything you’ve gone through up until this point, you still trust your instincts.

Which are currently screaming at you to not be the thing that prompts the inevitable next raincheck.

Plus, while one part of you is worried for Wilford’s wellbeing, the other part of you knows that it doesn’t matter. This is Wilford Warfstache we’re talking about. Even if he got mauled by a hippopotamus fueled by copious amount of acid and maliciously-intended vibes, he’d still find a way to continue existing with a chipper, knowing smile. 

“Now, where were we?” Wilford inquires. You don’t know why, because he immediately snaps his fingers. “Ah, yes! Writing!”

Seeing that his face is clean once again, he throws the now bloodstained handkerchief into the air, where it quickly flutters down to join the broken mirror somewhere on the floor behind his chair. 

“Well, I’ve already rambled on about my adventures with that. Please, tell me more about your thoughts on writing. You know I’d love to hear them!”

“Is that why you booked me for this? And here I was, thinking you just wanted me to sit here and look handsome and/or beautiful!” You joke, hoping to distract yourself from the dread that’s just started festering in your stomach.

Wilford chortles at that. And although the sound almost unveils some happy memories, you can still tell that he’s acutely aware of aforementioned dread.

You chew your lip, thinking.

By the time you’re able to predict what that question could lead to, it’ll probably be too late.

Might as well be honest with your answer, then. 

“I think writing is pretty incredible,” you pronounce. “Some people try to say it isn’t a real type of art, and I’ll never be able to understand why. Like you just said: it’s always so much harder and scarier to do than it’s given credit for. It takes the same amount of energy and care to write as it does to sculpt or paint or sew.”

The words seem to make Wilford grow more excited. “Speaking of which: don’t you just love it when different types of artists work together? I’m always seeing writers basing plot elements off of drawings and drafters sketching out scenes from stories. That camaraderie is one of the best kinds, I think. Reminds me of how wolves and crows help each other hunt.”

“Exactly!” You reply. “Writers and other artists do wonderful stuff like that all the time! Just because they can! And—”

You abruptly trail off, the chemicals in your brain rerouting themselves before they even have a chance to signal more happiness. 

“And. . ?” Wilford prompts, watching you curiously.

“. . .And they barely get any appreciation,” you eventually resume, feeling your face drop. “It’s just so. . .depressing that creative people can’t rely on their craft. Don’t get me wrong, some of them get lucky, but most. . .no matter how hard they practice or research, no matter how much time they spend polishing their projects. . .they still end up having so little to show for it.”

“Such a damn shame,” Wilford agrees, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

Your gaze wandered down to the floor during your little monologue, so you can’t help but flinch when Wilford pats you on the shoulder. 

The gesture isn’t forceful—it’s not like he’s digging his nails through your shirt—but nothing could’ve prepared you for how hot the skin of his palm feels. Wilford’s hand retracts quickly enough, but the heat lingers, racing down your arm as though some invisible person accidentally spilled a translucent cup of fresh-outta-the-pot, wraithlike coffee onto you.

(I’ve read/heard plenty of symbolism that involves boiling blood, but this is ridiculous.)

A gasp catches in your throat as you return your attention to Wilford. 

He almost resembles a celebrity who, thanks to the power of hubris and a little too much xanax, drowned in their backyard swimming pool. . .Well, really, that’s just because of his clothes; if he wasn’t dressed in a bowtie and button-down (which looks suspiciously like silk), he’d probably look like the average corpse that was just pulled out of a river. Minus the awful bloating that always comes with underwater decay, that is. 

You’d only looked away from him for a moment.

How the hell could someone’s skin turn so sickly pale in such short time?

“If there are any artists watching tonight, I’m sure you’ve made them get a little misty,” Wilford reMARKs, reaching up to wipe a single tear from the corner of his left eye. “But that doesn’t mean they have to worry. One way or another, the arts will get more respect in the future.”

“. . .You think so?” You’re not exactly sure where that question came from, but you know better than to stay silent. Besides, you can’t be blamed for having let a mite of pessimism creep into your attitude over the years.

“I know so!” Wilford promises. “So long as a virtuoso shows off what they can do, there’ll always, always be a number of admirers in their corner.” 

You nod without hesitation. It’s impossible to disagree with that sentiment. In fact, you almost start to wonder if whatever the hell has been happening to Wilford throughout this conversation is about to reverse itself. . .

“Though, I have to wonder,” Wilford maintains, glancing over at nothing in particular with a wry, thoughtful smirk. “Could what you just talked about be the reason for the current shift in creative circles?”

(Aaaaannnd that’s why you almost got hopeful.)

“‘Shift?’” You echo. “What do you mean by that?”

You already know, of course. But you also know that Wilford is nothing if not a theatrical bastard. You’ve already played along with whatever has been building up for the past few minutes, so why stop now?

“Well, it seems like the majority of artists celebrate Halloween all year ‘round,” Wilford explains. “Drawings and sculptures of monsters, stories full of insanity, the whole shebang. I’m certainly not complaining, and neither are all those admirers I mentioned. But. . .do you think an artist’s frustration is what causes them to serve muses on the darker side of the spectrum?”

You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the fact that someone out there is probably rolling their eyes and muttering, “i’M fOuRtEeN aNd ThIs Is DeEp.”

(Then again, everything you and Wilford just said is completely valid, so that judgemental prick can just fuck off.)

“I guess it can, in a lot of cases,” you answer. “It’s amazing how many unique ways artists can go about symbolizing those struggles. Even so, a lot of artists focus on twisted aspects just because they see things in ways that other people might not. Just because of their individual personalities.”

“Of course, of course,” Wilford subscribes. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that!”

A sharp, muffled pop called from somewhere in his chest. It’s followed by another. . .and another. . .and another, until a chorus of organic cracking and stretching and clicking threatens to drown out Wilford’s voice. 

Wilford doesn’t seem unbothered perse, but to his credit, he doesn’t let the cacophony stop him. 

“I suppose my instincts as a journalist drove that question,” Wilford muses. “I’ve found myself working with the whole ‘If it bleeds, it leads,’ shtick so many times. But only because. . .”

A violent twitch—the same type that so many people experience in their sleep, and the same type that would render those people unable to ever sleep again if they managed to see a recording of it—wracks his body.

“. . .it works. . .”

He barely had enough time to give you a wink before his eyes practically bulge from their sockets and roll into the back of his head, one after the other. 

“. . .so damn well!”

The skin of his cheeks neatly tears as his smile stretches wider than humanly possible, to the point where he’s quite literally grinning from ear-to-ear.

A strange outline appears in his shirt, trying to push out from underneath the fabric.

Except, it’s not underneath the fabric. 

You can do nothing but watch as the shape moves upward, causing Wilford’s neck to distend. His skin ripples in a way that reminds you of a sea krait swimming close to the surface without actually breaking it. As it gathers in Wilford’s head, the silhouette starts writhing. The movement is frantic. Desperate. Like an animal caught in some kind of trap.

All the while, Wilford’s new, eerie simper never falls away. 

Not even when his features are forced to swell and quiver, as though his skull is tearing itself apart.

Plltk-Sssquiiwrrrlrlct!

One half of Wilford’s face pulls away from the other, like a seam running down the center has burst. 

In a matter of seconds, the rift races down, splitting Wilford’s throat and torso open. 

Gravity attempts to drag the fleshy fractions even farther apart, but by some odd miracle, both Wilford’s afro and bowtie staunchly refuse to be divided like the rest of him. 

So, that means the two halves of Warfstache are hanging in place, only connected by thick, glistening strands of dark pink blood. 

You jerk away so aggressively that it’s a wonder your chair doesn’t tip over. Your stomach roils in a painful way, and a shuddering, terrified cry slithers up your throat and out between your teeth. You automatically fight to close your gaping mouth for fear that something much more solid than a scream might spill out next.

Surprisingly enough, nothing like that happens. 

But perhaps that’s because you haven’t seen the worst of this yet.

(Don’t hold your breath. You’re about to.)

As you stare and scream, you finally realize that. . .you can’t see through the gory chasm of Wilford. 

There’s something caught between the awful ratios of Wilford.

. . .No, not something.

Someone.

Someone who’s dressed in a tan military uniform, along with a pair of spectacles that boast dual loupes on that right lens. 

Someone whose screams make it clear that he speaks with an accent similar to Wilford’s.

Someone who you recognize. . .and, who seems to recognize you as well.

“H-Help me! PLEASE, HELP ME!” The Colonel wails, the fingers of his right hand curling around Wilford’s lower jaw, struggling for purpose. “I CAN’T GO BACK! DON’T MAKE ME GO BACK!”

You don’t respond. 

How the hell could you respond?

It’s one thing to watch a friend’s body spontaneously split itself apart like their skeleton is a bloodsoaked butterfly emerging from a horrific meat-chrysalis.

It’s another thing entirely to watch a friend’s former self shriek and thrash and beg via an unnecessarily brutal rebirthing process for no actual reason. 

“I-I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!” The Colonel howls—if it wasn’t for his volume, the words would have leaked out in a choked sob. “I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT! I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO IT! I SWEAR—!”

Wilford, meanwhile, is still grinning that sly, too-wide grin. He isn’t showing any signs of pain. You can’t tell whether or not he’d known that this was going to happen.

The Colonel manages to free his left arm from its organic confines. He frantically claws at the air, obviously trying to reach out to you, pleading for you to take his hand and pull him out.

The way your eyes are burning nearly rivals the searing ache in your chest.

You want to help him.

The voices in your head are demanding that you help him.

But you can’t. 

To put it simply, what’s done is done. Even Wilford’s bizarre powers are incapable of reversing what happened in that godforsaken manor all those years ago. 

The Colonel does not exist anymore.

You know that. . .

He knows that. . .

. . .And Wilford knows that.

Still grinning, Wilford raises his arms. With a loud criIiIiIck, they grow. In a manner of seconds, they boast a similar appearance to long, narrow tree branches. Each of his fingers follow suite—now it’s difficult to see them as anything other than talons. 

Wilford’s left hand is a blur as it snatches The Colonel’s wrist in a vice-like grip. His right hand reaches around to clamp down on The Colonel’s head.

Understandably, The Colonel isn’t having it. He writhes with twice as much panic as before. “DAMIEN! CELINE! WHERE ARE THEY?! I NEED TO FIND THEM!”

Wilford’s grin spasms. His knuckles turn white as he digs his nails into The Colonel’s scalp. When that doesn’t seem to work, he does what he does best: up the ante with no regard for anything. 

It’s hard to believe that you can hear the sound of glass splintering through The Colonel’s shouting, as Wilford’s index finger jabs through the left lens of his spectacles. 

In comparison, the squelching noise The Colonel’s eye makes as Wilford’s finger is driven into it is almost deafening. 

The Colonel buckles under the new, white-hot pain he must be feeling. His screams reach a truly heart-stopping octave as blood oozes down his cheek.

Instinct seems to take over, seeing as The Colonel’s arm finally retracts, as he attempts to apply pressure to his punctured eye.

There’s really no point, though. It’s not like he has time to stop the bleeding. 

To a chorus of snapping bones, Wilford shoves The Colonel down.

The Colonel’s torso as a whole seems to cave in.

All this time, Wilford’s hot-pink blood has been fountaining onto the floor—you’ve had to cross your legs on your chair to keep your shoes from getting drenched—but as you glance down, you notice that the puddle has stopped spreading. It stays still for a second or two. . .and then it starts rolling back in the direction it came. It glides up Wilford’s legs, and back into his chest, your eyes following it all the while. 

And now the blood seems to be more than just a liquid. It’s coiling around The Colonel like a nest of snakes, binding his arms, encircling his neck. It drags him deeper, obscuring his form until you can barely see his face.

“NO! NO!” The Colonel screams. He can’t struggle anymore, but you know better than anyone just how much of a bitch adrenaline can be. “I CAN’T—!”

It looks like the two halves of Warfstache have finally worked out their differences, because they meet one another with a sickening Ssshlift-pop. 

Wilford’s skin trembles. 

The line running down the center of his face, his throat, his chest. . .it just. . .seals itself shut. As though it’s a new type of magnetic clay. 

After a millisecond, that line itself disappears. It doesn’t even scar over. 

It’s just gone.

Just like that, a whole Wilford Warfstache is sitting before you once again. 

Like nothing even happened.

The next moment feels like several hours as you stare at Wilford, bracing yourself for something else to happen as hot, fat tears stream down your features. 

Wilford’s eyes roll back into place, milky white scleras finally being replaced by his warm, dark brown irises. 

That damn grin finally wavers as he blinks, shaking his head like he’s just woken up from a fever dream.

“Ah—I’m sorry,” Wilford announces, carefully kneading at his forehead. “I must’ve zoned out for a bit.” He glances at his wristwatch, raising an eyebrow. “Strange. . .the longer daydreams usually only happen on the thirteenth. Perhaps something else will be going on then? I know I had a lot of things lined up for the thirteenth in January, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I got around to them. . .unless I did, of course. In which case we might have a few problems.”

Wilford trails off as he finally notices that you’re still here. 

“. . .Are we going to have to reschedule again? No offense, but you’re looking a bit green around the gills.”

You collapse against the back of your chair, not even registering how the world spins. Not that registering is an option; darkness is quick to swallow up everything within eyesight.

(Really? You’re fainting now?)

Somehow, you still manage to hear Wilford’s voice, which seems to echo as he concludes, “I’ll take that as a yes,” with a melodramatic sigh.

@sammys-magical-au

#the thirteen days of goretober 2023 #goretober 2023 #my writing #my stories #wilford warfstache #wkm the colonel #markiplier #mark fischbach #tw blood #tw gore #tw body horror #tw trauma/flashbacks #tw fear/panic

[trains-and-nightmares-pkmncomic]

Mobile Friendly Info Page

Many years ago, Darkrai came across a strange nightmare in an unknown Warden. In modern day Unova, it found the same nightmare in someone verrry familiar.

It gets a little invested.

Tags and Warnings:

Legends Arceus Spoilers, obviously

yet another person trying to fix Legends’ (lack of an) ending

Submas

Darkrai is the main character, but the story is Emmet centric

This is a Family / Found Family Gen-Fic no romance allowed

The usual surviving sibling angst

Headcanons I refuse to let go of

The Cast (so far)

-Darkrai

This Pitch-Black Pokemon is shady and allusive by nature, but its incredible curiosity can coax it into appearances.

One night, as it flew through ancient Hisui, it happened upon a strange dream from an equally strange man. Piqued, it wished to know more, but the human’s guardian scared it away.

The years went by, and Darkrai continued to think about that child from the dream long after he was dead… Until he found a carbon copy of both the man and the dream in modern-day Unova.

.

-Subway Boss Emmet

Some time ago, Emmet’s twin brother went missing without a trace. Since then, Emmet has been continuing their legacy in the Battle Subway, in addition to tearing apart the puzzle left by his brother’s strange disappearance. (Off of the professional clock, of course!)

As time continues forward, the strategy in finding his brother has begun to shift and now Emmet looks into mythical, legendary, and otherwise elusive Pokemon who may help him, or be the culprit to the crime. Perhaps it is the grief of missing his twin, or perhaps a deeper-seeded fear that drives him after all of this time.

.

-Warden Ingo

Stranded from the home he can’t remember and taken in by a clan he’d never heard of, Ingo now works as the conductor–or, Warden, as the Pearl Clan dubs him–of a Noble Sneasler.

While the feeling of unbelonging never fades, Ingo works hard in his goals as Warden, Battle Instructor, and reliable friend. Sometimes, he swears he catches a fleeting thought or strange dream of a hint of his origin. However, it is quick to evade his grasp.

.

-Noble Lady Sneasler

Despite her standoffish and mocking nature all Sneasels and Sneaslers in Hisui share, Lady Sneasler’s nobility grants her a curiosity of the humans she is tasked with protecting, starting with her Warden. However, with her original Warden no longer with her, she is now learning coexistence with a new Warden.

This one perplexes her, wearing strange clothing and smelling of a strange land. She is curious of his destiny and respective of his experienced style of leadership. And he easily trusts her in turn.

.

And the rails don’t end here...

.

About the Art-thor

What’s good everyone I’m the typical artist who only draws 3/4th view busts of blorbos so to force myself to improve and work outside my comfort zone I’m making a Pokemon fancomic out of this idea I’ve been microwaving in my brain for too long. I got fixated on how Darkrai is the last Pokemon in the Hisui Pokedex and only obtainable through BDSP save data, and also got sucked into the Subway Masters stuffs at the same time. Bon appetit.

In all seriousness though I’ve been daydreaming about being good enough to tell a decent story via comic format and recently came to terms that waiting around for the perfect opportunity was gonna waste my time in the long run. I want to focus on the process of telling a story through comic, but also stay having fun with it as well.

Anyway, hope you enjoy your stay!

#Pin

[bp-best-froggo]

Soo, uhh, the Arknights anime...

(fyi, this might be obvious, but I’m gonna spoil the first episode now. If you haven’t seen it, go watch it. Then come back. Or don’t. I’m not your mom. I’m going to dump my thoughts here. This isn’t going to be very structured, very sorry if it’s incomprehensible rambling. It’s a long one. I’m not even kidding.)

First of all: What is this show supposed to be?

This might be an obvious one. An adaption of Arknights main story, in particular its first couple of chapters. The show is called “Prelude to Dawn” which does imply, also based on the material they have shown so far, that they will adapt Chapters 0 - 3 (as these chapters are also displayed together in the game’s story hub). Currently the show is listed with 8 episodes, which is shorter than most other shows.

With that out of the way, what kind of adaption is Arknights: Prelude to Dawn? Is it attempting to simply transfer its story to a different medium? Market the game to a new audience? Or is it trying to improve on a story, which was flawed on release, due to a lack of experience?

Or to frame the question differently: Why adapt Arknights into an anime show at all?

There are a couple of reasons for that. First of all: Expectations. If you’re releasing an anime-style game (or a manga or probably also a light novel), and it gains decent popularity, it’s a given that your fanbase will expect to see an anime adaption. Most fans are dreaming of that perfect adaption, that captures everything they love about a piece of media and looks stellar. Which I think is understandable, but also, when it comes to video games, near impossible to do right. Games are interactive art - you can only transfer a fraction of that experience into a visual/auditive medium.

Basically, you can tell me the story, but you can never capture the frustration of trying to clear NL-S-3 CM. Don’t get me wrong, I love the story, but I also love the gameplay. You can’t capture the gameplay, because I’m not the one doing it. In an anime, I watch someone else doing it. This makes it, by default, impossible to deliver on the expectations set by the community.

If you’re making it so hard on yourself to deliver a satisfying product then, why bother? Reason #2: You can make money off of it. If you have a bunch of people, who are by default willing to spend money on your product, because there’s a familiar name on the tin.

I cut this one short: I don’t know how profitable making this show is. You can watch it on Crunchyroll and I don’t know how much HG is making by selling the liscense. But then they’re also sharing it on YouTube which... I mean, it’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but like... for free? I mean they are getting ad revenue too, but... is that enough to make up for the production cost or even turn a profit? I guess you could also sell physical copies, the fans are gonna love those. But is that enough? I have honestly no idea.

Reason #3: You can market your game. A lot of manga and light novels used to do this and probably still do (don’t know for sure, I don’t watch as many animes anymore), where they get adapet for a single 12-ep season, only to push sales on the original work. No Game No Life, Btooom!, Baccano! come to mind for me. Decent shows, but will probably never have another season aired, even though the show is far from concluded.

If you wanted to make an Arknights show, to have more people pick up your game, selling them a story is one way to do it. But frankly, is that going to work? Remember you’re selling a gacha game. Peeps like me are here for the story, sure - but also for the characters. And if you want to haul in new customers, you might want to sell me your characters.

I know this is going to sound cynical, but if you’re not showing me at least 6* waifus only obtainable by gacha in the first 2 minutes, what’s the point? EP1 features exactly one character who is (not even exclusively) obtainable by gacha: Dobermann, a 4*. So honestly, either HG has no idea how to market their game (which looking at some of their ads might be a somewhat valid take) or that’s not what they were going for. Or they have a lot of faith that the story ends on strong enough of a cliffhanger to pull in the players then. (Which I don’t think either? Like, there’s a Limited Banner coming up both on CN and Global. Why wouldn’t you want to pull in players now?)

Which leaves me only with Reason #4: You create it because you can.

You can also call this one wishful thinking. I certainly think it is. Nowadays it’s hard for me not to look at PieceOfMedia(tm) and immediately think about what it’s trying to sell me. Even Arknights to an extend, isn’t only trying to tell me story. Every event comes with a new banner, so I can waste money on the newest 6* Blorbo. But I wouldn’t like Arknights if I didn’t see an earnest attempt between all the gacha banners and marketable characters to create something meaningful.

Earlier this week I got Glaucus’ module. I don’t think she’s a super popular character, so her module text will probably go unnoticed by most players. It made me tear up, because whoever wrote these few sentences wanted to express a kind of joy and happiness that not everyone can or will experience. This is why I play Arknights.

It’s these kind of things that make wonder, if this anime really only does exist, because there are a couple of people who care so much about something they have created, they want even more people to experience it. Even if gacha or tower defense isn’t their cup of tea. Even if it doesn’t turn a profit. Even if it goes largely unnoticed or unappreciated.

The truth is, probably, somewhere in between these four reasons. That’s why this adaption exists.

And it’s actually pretty good. Admittedly, it has been a while since I’ve read Arknights first chapters, but I still remember that at the time I skipped through most of them. They weren’t the reason I stuck with the game. The reason came way later. If anything, Arknights was a welcome distraction from the absolute hellhole that ‘Rona was at the time.

There’s a strange sense of comfort in a story about a world ravaged by an illness, too poorly understood to be cured, and people yet fighting to help those who suffer from it. Because at the time, when I looked at the outside world, all I could see was selfishness and fear. It was probably, curiously, the best possible time when the game had come out. At least for me.

I think what sums up this episode is that it was simply: Solid. Unspectular, but solid. The animation was good. It looked well-made and it was clear to see, that the animators put a lot of care into every scene. The dark scenes hit pretty hard. The voice acting was really good and I especially adore the Doctor’s voice. There was only one fight scene, but it was well done. I liked how they portraied the Doctor’s tactical thinking, using the drones and all that stuff.

But overall, the pacing was pretty slow and the exposition felt a little... clumsy. The Doctor’s amnesia and weak physical state is a good explanation to have all the characters explain a lot of stuff to them. But it slows the story down in a situation where it would otherwise be adviceable to... hurry up and get the fuck out of there? We know from the beginning that Amiya and her companions are in enemy territory, so having them stop every other minute to tell the Doctor all the stuff they have forgotten takes out the urgency from the story. Not completely, most of the time they are still hiding somewhere. But apparently it’s not urgent enough to not save Ursus mom and her daughter from Reunion.

A faster pacing definitely would have helped deliver the story. I’m not sure how much of the exposition was actually necessary, a lot of it felt like it was mentioned twice, but that might also be just me. I’m already familiar with the setting afterall. I’m still curious how good the setting was actually explained though. I will try to convince a friend, who has no idea what Arknights is about, to watch the first episode. Just morbid curiosity.

A lot of this might read like I have mixed feelings about the show, but that’s not exactly true. In fact, I love it and enjoyed the first episode so much, I will probably rewatch it at least once or twice over the next week. Most of my thoughts are just... uncertainty. This is afterall HG’s first attempt at an adaption. So far, it’s really good. It has honestly surpassed all my expectations and I was expecting something less polished than that. But I want to be careful about setting my expectations too high.

On the other hand I can’t help but wonder if this show is what will inevitably make Arknights pop culture - if such a thing can even be called inevitable. Maybe Arknights isn’t meant to appeal to everyone. A part of me would much prefer that over a slow decline into mediocrity that usually comes with increased marketability.

I have long since made peace with the fact that even Arknights might only be a phase for me. Right now, I still love the game and I play it every day and talk to people about it all the time. I know this can’t last forever, and I can’t help but wonder, whether my love for Arknights has already peaked or if it’s still going to last for a long time. Times feel uncertain to me so I find it though to believe in an eternity.

Regardless, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting for this to last just a little longer.

Frankly, I don’t think this show was made to market the game. I feel like it was made for me, and people like me. I’m probably wrong about this, but this is what I choose to believe right now.

To the two people who chose to read all of this: .... thanks for reading, but also, why?

#arknights #prelude to dawn #long post #arknights spoilers #i guess not really i rambled about everything but the show I feel like - #zeta.txt

[stargazeraldroth]

Aaahhh I’m! So glad you (and a few others!) liked my little Underverse AU idea! It means a lot to me, and seeing the idea blossom is so much fun- Thank you so much for making me smile so big!!!

I’m definitely with you on the whole “Ink wouldn’t endanger the AUs” thing, and it always rubbed me as off in the original Underverse… No hate meant to Jakei, of course! What they’ve done is amazing, their animation and art is absolutely gorgeous, and I can tell that they put a lot of heart and love into their creation! It’s just not something up my alley, you know…? Though 0.7 slaps, Ink/Fresh/Cross vs Error, Ink vs Fresh, and Fresh!Ink vs Error is my favorite sequence of events… So much fun, heh.

Anyways! I feel like a lot of avenues could open up with the idea you’ve laid out, here- I will say that I imagine this as a relatively nice (or doing his best to be!) Ink who doesn’t have any darker intentions, because I feel like that hurts more? Though obviously that’s open to interpretation!

But, like. How would Core!Frisk feature into this- I’m a sucker for platonic!Core and Ink, so I can’t help wondering what they’re thinking of everything going on. Have they been trying to help Ink, and maybe warn him that things are going south? Have they had to decide that they can’t risk the Omega Timeline getting involved with all of this, and been forced to watch a friend fall into a toxic trap? Do they care at all? They’re an interesting character to me, so I can’t help wondering!

And! Cross! My poor, misguided boy… I feel like he has a lot of potential to go a lot of different ways- Because once Blue and Dream’s betrayal becomes known, and they release XGaster, does he have a realization that he betrayed Ink, if only in a less personal way than they did? He hunted through the AUs and damaged them, knowing it would hurt someone who thought of him as a friend- What would he think of that? And depending on if you want brotherly!Cross and a Ink, I think it could go a lot of ways.

Error is a mixed bag, to me- He could absolutely be a yandere himself, and in that scenario, I could see him using Ink’s betrayal as a “ha, don’t you see I was right?” sort of moment. Because the people Ink cared for went behind his back in such an awful way, but he’s never done that, now has he? Alternatively, Error being the only sane man and going “well damn, I don’t like the guy, but that’s kinda fucked up” has some interesting potential in making him the overall… Hero? Or at least hero-aligned, since he might be trying to help Ink, now.

(Also, I just feel it’d be very funny, if he realized Blue and Dream caused the destruction of an AU and went “HEY WHAT THE FUCK THATS MY JOB-)

There’s just! So much to think about! And I’m so glad you enjoyed thinking about it! Make sure to take care of yourself, and thank you again for reading and thinking about my little idea!

I live for my brain to be consumed by AUs, I don't think there's even a logical side to my brain anymore /j.

Before I get more into this response, I wanna say that I'm not trying to bash Underverse either. I really do enjoy the series! I feel like Underverse is a big part of the AU community and I love that, it's just... I wish I could love it more, if that makes sense? I'm not placing any blame on Jakei, but I'm a firm believer that Ink's portrayal in Underverse has significantly contributed to the misconception of his character and the sheer amount of villainization (again, you know who you are). I think my favorite episode was actually 0.6, if I'm remembering correctly. That's the one with the Dream/Cross vs Killer/Nightmare battle, right? So many good cuts of Nightmare. 0.7 was good too, with all those juicy fights. Yum.

I don't really see Ink as a naive, wholly good character. I don't imagine him anywhere near as evil as other people do (y'all know who you are), but I don't see him as pure good either, like what I might imagine for Dream or CORE. However, I am very fond of the idea that Ink's been influenced by Dream and the others, and so he's better… but still not entirely good. He's still generally neutral and all, but he does make more effort to be considerate of others and have a better grasp of morals. Maybe this is a niche interpretation but he's my top comfort character, dammit. I'm gonna do what makes me feel happy and warm.

(I say as I torture him in numerous AUs)

Anyway, I do imagine this Ink to be nicer (or whatever word you wanna substitute that with) than the canon Underverse!Ink. Like I mentioned in the last one, I'm a stickler for the idea he wouldn't endanger AUs, buuuut... now that I'm thinking about it, wasn't part of his motives the Creators gradually leaving? Ink needs his paints to be "alive", if you will, and he won't get those if the Creators are gone. So if he becomes desperate, afraid of being forgotten (again), then... maybe he'd make a small exception? Perhaps? It's... for the greater good! I'm not gonna deviate from what I originally said too much, but I'm a sucker for angst- I'm sure there are some people here who can verify that statement.

I honestly didn't think of CORE very much when thinking of the idea. I know they're important to the story, I just... don't think about them very often lol. I'M SORRY CORE I STILL LOVE YOU-

From what I remember, CORE hates the concept of "the greater good". They're very against the idea of there being things as part of the grand scheme of the Multiverse, I believe. So they're going to be at a standstill here: obviously, they're not okay with Ink being manipulated, nor are they okay with what Dream and Blue were doing. But at the same time, they can't just risk the Omega Timeline. It's essentially the last safe haven in the Multiverse, in terms of being shielded from potential threats (let's just ignore Nightmare manifesting for a moment). As much as they despise the ideology of a greater good, they know they can't rush into this with their usual attitude. They know from experience that things don't always go the way you want, that people- no matter what your intentions may be- will be affected by what choices you make. (Maybe that can lead to some CORE backstory acknowledgment crumbs-)

Regardless of what choice CORE makes, I believe they would care about them still. They're just a little baby, just a little kid, give them a break!

I feel like Cross is becoming the primarily neutral character of this lol. I feel like he would have a lot of mixed emotions about the situation. On one hand, he could still be bitter towards Ink while also feeling guilt for his own betrayal. Depending on how emotionally damaged and exhausted he is, Cross might just feel pity and not much more. I think his dynamic with the other two Stars, especially Dream, would also come into play at this point. If he feels this awful about their betrayal, then... how does Ink feel...? I would ideally want the development of Cross and Ink becoming more brotherly with each other, but that's just personal bias.

And now, Error. Error, Error, Error... one of my favorite AUs. One of my skrunkles. My blorbos. My brainrot babes. There are things that I can't help but include when making an AU, and Errorink- or at least Errorink crumbs- is one of them.

First, let's consider the idea of Error being a yandere himself. This can either be a romantic yandere or a platonic yandere, personally I prefer the romantic one for Error. Generally speaking, even without the yandere trait, I do believe that Ink is the only Error considers "on his level". They're equals- one can never truly defeat the other. Error could definitely use the betrayal to his advantage, and try to tell Ink that he was always right about those anomalies. They took advantage of his trust, and now look at what's happened. But him? He'd never betray Ink in such a way. He's the only one Ink can trust. This could lead to some major angst when Error destroys the AUs, maybe also lead to Ink shutting down and considering giving up. And then Error can kidnap him (again)! Fun!

Now, we'll consider the one where Error isn't a yandere. This is probably the most generally favorable and can be a breath of fresh air amidst the two (three, if you wanna play with X-Gaster a bit) yanderes going after Ink. You know the situation's bad when Error- ERROR- is considered sane compared to you. I do like the idea of them being reluctant frenemies here; Error doesn't really like Ink, but damn, did he really deserve all of that? Especially if Error knows how much Ink truly depends on the Creators. I like the idea of them forming an unstable partnership for the time being. And who knows? Maybe, in this case, Error is one of the people keeping Ink from really hitting a breaking point.

I wonder what that would be like, Ink hitting a breaking point. Imagine all the juicy angst. Ink questioning if any of this even worth it, if trying to keep a Creator active was worth it. If he's worth it. Dream and Blue would frantically reassure him that he is worth it, no one wants him to fade away, but he just... doesn't really believe them. After what they did, how can they expect him to trust whatever they say?

Also, also! I am 100% supportive of the idea that Error takes offense to other people doing his "job". I absolutely LOVE that idea. I like to imagine that's what Ink does in AUs where the Balance is actually important, when Error's being lazy and doesn't wanna do anything. He's like "Hm, I guess I'll just find someone else to destroy the AUs" and suddenly, Error's working.

There's honestly so much that can be done with the concept of platonic yandere Dream and Blue being in Underverse. See, Ink never needed to worry about being forgotten or Creators leaving the Multiverse, because he's got me. I make so many AUs I should be getting paid for it.

#underverse au #ink sans #dream sans #blue sans #swap sans #platonic yandere dream sans #platonic yandere blue sans #cross sans #error sans #core frisk #anonymous asks

[tsunderedoctor]

A/N: Inspired by the beautiful art @politenuclearbomb​ did of plague doctor!Law 💖 (I hope it’s okay to tag you-)

Warning: treatments described are actual treatments from the Black Plague and are extremely disturbing, reader also has the pneumonic plague, second common type of Black Plague that haunted the European and Asian lands. Viewer discretion is advised. This is not a cutesy fic and should be taken with caution.

He found you on the street, coughing your lungs out as you stared up at him in fear. The mask alone telling you, you had reached death’s doors. Grabbing you by the arm with a gloved hand, the mysterious figure drags you away to God knows where, eventually your mind blacked out from the stress and lack of energy you presented. 

It’s dark where he placed you, a small window showing the street above. Doing your best to cry out for help only hurt your chest more as the masked figure stares down at you, tilting his to the side as if you are some strange animal. Maybe you are at this point. Your body didn’t feel human anymore, nor did it look it. Caged up in a small cell, you really are just an experimental rat tied up for a human’s pleasure.

It didn’t take long for him to enter the cell room. Forcing your hands apart as he checked your chest for a temperature, letting out a sigh through the mask. “Just as I thought, your fever hasn’t died down yet.” His voice was gruff, even through the mask you could hear it perfectly, sending shivers down your spine. 

Coughing once more, you tried to look intimidating, well the best that you could for a dying person. “What do you want?” 

Humming, the figure knelt down in front of you, moving your greasy hair from your face. “It’s rare to find someone alive in such a state. You must understand the predicament you are in, how it affects the living. You can’t be up there with them, not like this anyway.” Standing back up, he dusted the dirt from his black robe. 

Looking you over once more, he grabbed the chain connected to your neck, something you must have missed when you first woke up. Grabbing it, you tried to pull away, but your strength already dwindled to nothing compared to the doctor. Leading you to a tub, the mask turned to face you, almost as if you could feel him staring expectingly. “Well? Undress or I will make you.” 

Not wanting the man to touch you any more than needed, you did as you were told, letting the rags that kept your dignity alive fall apart onto the floor like the rest of you. Getting inside the bathtub, the cold porcelain touched your skin, making you shiver once more as the man got to work, pouring hot water on your dirty skin. Letting out a cry of shock, the mask only made a tsk sound above you as he continued to bathe you. “This is mixed with rosewater and vinegar; it should help clean the nastiness off your body. Sit in here for a bit, I need to get something else.” 

Leaving you be for a moment, in sat in the hot water, enjoying the feel of it. When was the last time you bathed? You couldn’t remember. Grabbing a washcloth, you got to work scrubbing the dirt that caked your body from years of living on the street, your skin color finally showing its original shade. Doing your best, you tried to ignore the stings from the vinegar as it touched any new scratches you had received that week. As the man came back with another bucket, you expected it to be full of more water, not hesitating when he dunked it on your head.

Letting out a high-pitched scream, you stared down at the water below as it turned yellow from the substance stinging your cuts even more. Grabbing your hair and pulling your face upward, the masked man stared you down with a glare you didn’t need to see to feel. “You should be honored I’m trying to save your disgusting life, and you have the nerve to scream?” 

Staring at him in fear, you only gulped as he let you go, allowing some of the liquid to enter your mouth as you licked your lips nervously. “Finish cleaning yourself up, this should help your fever die down, the healthy cells from my urine will fix any tainted ones you have.” 

Nodding at his words, you grabbed the washcloth once more, cleaning yourself up with the added ingredient, the smell of urine covered your body, making your nose crinkle in disgust. Heading off again, he handed you some clean clothes, what you assumed was his dress shirt and a pair of old trousers. Stepping out of the tub, you dried yourself off the best could and got dressed, trying to cover any part of yourself that you could, though something told you the man had no interest in what you had.

Once dressed, you sat back down on the cell floor, coughing as he brought you some food. ‘Why are you doing this? I’m just going to die anyway. You might as well just kill me.”

Crossing his arms, the masked man watched you eat quietly, only speaking when he grabbed your empty plate. “My caretaker died from the disease that is now killing you. People say that God has struck down his vengeance on us humans, but I disagree. God doesn’t exist, and if he did, he left us long ago. I’ll cure you though, don’t worry about that, I’ll cure every single damn one of you.” Surprised by the man’s words, you could only find yourself nodding. Maybe you had a chance to live, if he seemed so determined to cure you?

The rest of the week consisted of his treatments and you getting worse. By now the masked man frowned as he watched you sitting in the cell with hens surrounding you. Coming inside, he handed you a glass of wine, it’s usual red color now black. “What’s this?” Even though your voice hurt to talk, you did your best to try and understand what the man was forcing down your throat this time, yesterday it was urine, the day before he made you sit in cow feces, you just wanted this to stop.

“Wine, I mixed some emerald inside. Pure metals should help clean out your lungs.” Believing his words, you did as you were told, drinking the bitter substance with no complaint. Once done, you couldn’t help but cough, the stone cutting away at the inside of your throat as it went down your windpipe. 

“You will get better; I won’t let you die. My pride won’t allow it.” stepping closer to you, he moved the hair from your face, now greasy again from not being able to bathe. Nodding your head, you looked up at him as if he was your new God, and maybe in such circumstances he was. Feeling his smile, he patted your head softly, reminding you of how good you had been for allowing all this to happen. 

It had been officially ten days and you were still alive, breaking the norm that crowded the rest of the dying people above you. By now you were completely entrapped with the man, not even needing to see his face to know how he felt or thought. Drinking the emerald wine, your cough had managed to get better, though your skin and fever will still inhumanely. 

Sighing the man removed his mask, his brown hair having a slight wet look to it from the sweat due to wearing such a mask. Feeling the need to be closer to the stressed doctor, you laid your head on his knee, a hand combing through your tangled locks. You were going to live, you just had to for both of your sakes.

#tsunderedoctor #not ask #yandere trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece yandere

[carefulfears]

hi mulder trying anon jumping off anon to say that learning “maybe there’s hope” is mulder’s final line in the original series has literally made me stare at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes because wHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S STILL HIS BELIEF AT THE END OF EVERYTHING HOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT POSSIBLE AFTER BEING SO TIRED AND WORN DOWN AND STRIPPED AWAY AND SEEING ALL THE LAYERS YOU’RE TELLING ME THIS MAN STILL BELIEVES—

it has like. floored me this entire summer of me watching this show for the first time how consistent mulder is in who he is, throughout everything. he is constant, always passing go, always holding on to the ropes he braided when he was a kid, weaving to let others in, redoing the pattern when they leave, never ceasing in his art for a moment. he can’t stop because it’s all he has. he’ll chase these ends forever, whatever it takes to finally tie them in a neat bow. but he also has to make it good, make it beautiful, ready for display at a museum, because he needs the validation that he did something right for once. he needs someone to see that he tried. he needs someone, anyone, to know the truth.

i also feel like it’s important to note his desperation in regards for the truth is literally how he says i love you? like mulder’s love language, partly, and to me, anyway, is literally his fight to have the answers, to have some sense of control and understanding as to why life unfolds the ways it does. “i love you” is mulder living with the weight of scully’s cancer and him never letting that go, just as much as “i love you” is the ache of samantha and that day of his life. i feel like he’s constantly screaming THIS IS WHAT I CARE ABOUT THIS IS WHAT MATTERS I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE IN THIS WONDERING HELP ME EXPRESS THIS IN WORDS DO YOU FEEL IT TOO at the world, and most people only ever took it as him being “spooky”.

………but i will end my silly little ramble there! sorry for the length of this! i just really think mulder’s important! that’s all!

well this one made me literally cry too skdjdj what’s in the air. babes literally right after posting that i remembered that you said you’d just watched s8 for the first time and was like fuck i hope i didn’t spoil anything for you, so i hope i didn’t!! i’ve just been thinking about that final line nonstop because i have a draft on it that i’m working on lol. thank you so much for sharing your thoughts, i love the way you expressed everything, and i always love to hear all about people just loving this show and getting something out of it. mulder is important, to me, too.

i remember a friend saying once that mulder pursues truth for truth’s sake, just because he believes the world deserves it, and i still think about that. it’s a really lovely thing, for a character to be so rooted in love and conviction. everything that he does is because he loves people so much, in a way that carries this spark of hope for everyone.

#I LOVE HIM #and i love y’all #asks

[rainbowchewynuggets]

Update - re: Focus and Rags

So remember how I said I’d be working on my first original comic next, Rags, now that I’m done with TMA: Encore?

I haven’t actually worked on it in months. I’ve instead been hopping between other writing projects and working on a much less conceptually complicated video project.

And that makes me feel terrible. But the thing is, I’m not sure I should feel that way.

On this edition of I’m Having to Rethink the Way I Learned to Make Art and Am Posting About It to Organize My Thoughts and Maybe Help Someone Else, I’m gonna be considering the entire purpose of why I make art. Wheeee here we go.

POINT ONE: The Thing vs. the Making of the Thing

So I was raised to make art as an object, not an action. Any project needs to have a beginning, middle, and end, or else it’s a failure. I accepted that because people encouraged it. Having a finished piece that people would appreciate made me feel good. And I liked having a finished piece of art. The drive to see something sparkling and complete in my hands has pulled me through many a difficult spot in a project.

However, it was always framed to me as a business thing, extended as a self-worth thing. If you want to be an Artist, you have to produce art. You have to sell it effectively. It’s about proving that you deserve the role of making art in the first place. The second I started being “good” at art, people were telling me to cut out the “bad” pieces for my portfolio. And that’s awful. I can’t stand the fact that that’s something someone taught me before I turned ten.

And that’s what Rags is. Was. Is. I had a really low point a couple months ago where I never felt like I’d measure up in life if I didn’t start selling my art. Rags is a fully original idea with a finite scope that could be made into a book and sold, which might bring me closer to the role of Artist. The story and design of it are all tributes to things that I love emotionally and writing it brought me joy, but it was being made out of a fear of failure and inadequacy. That’s... also awful. Honestly. I don’t want to make art for that reason. I may never get to make art full-time or even part-time, but nobody can take away my role as Artist. That’s just not how it works.

Furthermore, I don’t think finishing things even why I make art. I make art because the act of making it does something for me. It’s interesting. It’s educational and a little bit spiritual. It’s a physical stim and meditation activity. Writing feels like a simultaneous act of building and solving a puzzle. Drawing, painting, and sculpting feels like a wild experiment with turning feelings into lines and shapes. Making art about bigger art may be a never-ending copyright firefight, but it helps me process why I like that art.

And therapy. Art’s a great opportunity for therapy. It is the only form of therapy that has ever helped me. Pouring my woes and flaws into the shoes of my characters and then having to research and conceptualize solutions for them to build their arcs is a kind of self-loving praxis that is slowly peeling back layers and layers of trauma and ignorance in me. I want to do it and share it with people forever.

In embracing this, I remembered that my childhood wasn’t all business anxiety. There was also this really cool person making the coolest videos I’d ever seen and giving it out for free on purpose. Her name’s Nina Paley. Go watch Sita Sings the Blues.

POINT TWO: Going in Circles

So having the object of art hasn’t turned out to be as valuable to me as doing the process of art. Which is why I can’t seem to finish anything. Which is because I rapidly switch between projects. “Rapidly” sometimes means spending months on something or an afternoon, it always depends.

This never happened to me as a kid, but it’s been a nonstop occurrence in my adult life. Maybe it’s just that I don’t have eight classes worth of homework to keep my ambitions down anymore, I don’t know. But I always felt bad about it. It’s the kind of thing the kids with ADHD in the seats next to me got yelled at for. And I should get yelled at, because it means I’m never going to get anything done.

Well, no. Because that’s not the point. And fuck them for yelling at people.

Also, I do get a lot done. I looked back at my personal website a few weeks ago and felt floored looking at all the little things I’ve made over the years. No big impressive monetizable comics, but a lot of cool ink drawings, some weird paintings, a big group project, and one music video that I literally still can’t believe I made. (Here’s a link to all that, if you wanna look at it, too.)

I through my docs and found so much fun writing that I’d given up on because I “failed” to finish it. So I went back to them, and now they’re a little bigger and even more beautiful than before.

I did all that amidst the circle-going. Because I’m not broken. That’s just how my brain works. Leaning into it works so, so, so much better than fighting it. I realized this while watching an anituber I like, Hazel, talking to her illustrator wife on a Q-n-A about how they get projects done (genuinely can’t remember which one, but here’s her channel). It turns out that they both cycle through projects like I do and have both made enormous and wonderful bodies of work (and careers) that way. I can’t tell you how good it felt to find that out.

POINT THREE: What now? / TL;DR

I’m gonna not latch onto big projects... declaratively anymore. I’m just gonna post updates to things I’m working on currently. If the thing I’m fixated on is a thing that’s already on the index, I might put a little flag to it so that people popping by can see what I’ve added to most recently.

But in short, I’m treating the blog as more of a living archive. I might even put up stuff from my website, too. If I make a poster, it’s a poster and not an announcement. I've always wanted to make trailers for big projects, but it would be better off interpreted as a stand-alone thing made for the sole joy of the art of a trailer. Dev art is dev art. Etcetera.

If I get something big all the way done someday, that’ll be icing, not the cake.

Right now, I’m working on an animatic entitled Chuncho, about Yma Sumac and birds and Peruvian festivals. Here’s some stuff from it:

I’m trying to get it done by mid-September (Yma’s birthday). But if I don’t, that’s okay.

As always thanks for reading,

Rainbow / Carlie

#update #focus and rags #rapid switching #lack of focus #chuncho #rags #rainbowchewynuggets