#this is where I watched my mother die Ink

[sandeewithtwoe]

When English is hard…

Ink belongs to comyet/ myebi

Dream belongs to Jokublog

In case you can’t read my handwriting:

Ink: So, Dream, why are we here again? You do know this AU is pretty dead, right?

Dream: this is where my mom died, Ink

Ink: Oh merde. Seriously?

Dream: Yes…

Ink: My deepest conveniences … Wait… My deepest concussions

Ink: No… My deepest compli-

Dream: My deepest condolences

Ink: Yeah, that!

#art #utmv #comic #dream sans #ink sans #colours!! wow!! #I had to search how to write condolences for this #English is not my first language #this is where I watched my mother die Ink #cowabummer #maybe one day I’ll draw Dream being happy for once #but not today #also this is a one piece reference

[7s3ven]

MY LOVE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… the half-blood campers live in a world where everybody is granted a soulmate. Everybody but the favoured child of Aphrodite, who was always destined to live a life without true love.

“My love is mine, all mine. I love mine, mine, mine. Nothing in the world belongs to me.”

( inaccurate details )

Warnings : Slight angst, not proofread (grammar mistakes)

A/N : late Valentines special… oops

—

Depending on what type of person you were, the concept of soulmates were either a blessing or a curse. To Y/N L/N, it was neither because she was never given a partner. The unseeable red string tied around her left ring finger never led to anybody else. Her skin never replicated the wounds of another person. Her world was always a scope covered in bright colours instead of depressing grey hues.

To others, her lack of a soulmate was great. She was free to love whomever she wanted without having to worry about a so-called soulmate. To her, it was hell. While it was true that she could like any person she chose, she would never be their first option. She was smart and beautiful and charming but their ideal pick would always be their soulmate.

It was sad, honestly. Especially when she knew boys would like her if soulmates didn’t exist.

Even when Y/N arrived at Camp Half-Blood, she was an exception. No soulmate meant no love life in other people’s eyes so it shocked everyone when Y/N was claimed by the very person who created the idea of fated partners. Aphrodite.

Y/N was awoken by loud giggles. She cracked an eye open, staring at her siblings across from her. “Why are you all up so early?” She almost groaned. It was seven in the morning and she knew her siblings always valued their beauty sleep. “Is Elvis Presley here or something?”

“No.” Silena grinned at Y/N, her cheeks flushing a pale pink colour, “Even better. A new boy just arrived last night and rumour has it that he’s cute. Cuter than Malcom.”

Malcom was an Ares kid. Ares and Aphrodite children always got along for some reason and because their parents had a complicated love relationship, so did they.

“Malcom isn’t that good-looking. What about Ben?” Y/N retorted, kicking her blankets off.

“I think Nigel is better.” Another sibling piped up, causing the whole cabin to burst into muffled laughter.

“That’s because you’re gay, Andrew!” They all exclaimed in unison, trying not to wake the other cabins.

Y/N leaned her head against her fluffed up pillow, gazing at Silena. “So, what’s this cutie’s name?”

“Luke.” Silena immediately answered, proud of herself for remembering the new camper’s name. “He came with Grover and a little girl.”

“Annabeth.” Andrew added. Y/N quietly hummed.

“Don’t be too loud.” She muttered, “I still want to sleep.”

As the commotion amongst her siblings died down, they too went back to bed. Y/N watched as Silena traced her soulmate tattoo before lying down, gently smiling. Y/N glanced at her own wrist, imagining her own mark inked onto her skin. What was it like knowing you were destined to love someone and they were destined to love you?

It must be reassuring.

Y/N didn’t remember when she drifted off, but she did and when she opened her eyes again, the sun was seeping through the light pink curtains.

Y/N lightly sighed as she sat up, running a hand through her perfect hair. That was a peek of having Aphrodite as her mother.

“Oh, you’re finally up. We thought you were sad. Too bad you aren’t.” Drew Tanaka was as cruel as ever. She was sitting at the vanity, applying a layer of pressed powder onto her face.

“Even if I did die, Drew, Silena would be the next cabin counsellor.” Y/N nonchalantly uttered as she stood up, stretching. Drew quietly scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“At least I have a soulmate.” She grumbled.

When Drew Tanaka hit hard, Y/N L/N always made sure to hit back harder.

“Yeah? Well, at least my ‘soulmate’ doesn’t hate me because of a rumour about me sleeping with his best friend. Which, by the way, was true.” Y/N quickly snapped back, leaving Drew speechless. Y/N was never one to act out but when someone asked for it, she delivered a killing blow.

Like any normal Aphrodite daughter, Y/N took her sweet time in doing her makeup. She could feel Drew’s glare on her as she swiped a red tint across her lips.

Y/N arrived at breakfast a little late, just in time to see the new kids stumble into the pavilion. Girls turned to whisper to each other, subtly pointing at the boy and blushing.

“That’s Luke and Annabeth, right?” Y/N questioned as she took a big gulp from her golden chalice. Silena quickly nodded, glancing at Luke.

“See, I told you he was cute.”

Y/N shrugged but Silena did have a point. Luke, with his perfect side profile, sharp jawline, and pretty curled hair, was a pleasant sight for sore eyes.

Y/N was caught off-guard when Luke sat down at the Hermes table and immediately lifted his head, his gaze settling on her without hesitation. Y/N quickly looked away, glancing at her wrist like she always did in hopes a tattoo would appear by some miracle.

Drew saw her moment of weakness and instantly commented on it. “Still no soulmate, Y/N?” Silena sent her half-sister a disapproving stare.

“Yeah. I’ll just fuck yours, I guess.”

Drew’s face sank for the second time. “Stay away from Sulan.” She hissed, glancing at the Demeter boy who wanted nothing to do with Drew.

Fate always drew people together so it was no surprise that everybody in Camp Half-Blood had their soulmates in the same place. There were multiple ways you could find your soulmate, depending on your mark.

Silena had her matching tattoo. Drew had that damned red string that only she could see. And Andrew could only sed the world in black and gray until his soulmate arrived, which they hadn’t yet.

Across the pavilion, Luke lightly nudged a teen named Chris. “Who’s that?” He asked, pointing at the H/C-hIred girl who was sitting with a group of unnaturally attractive kids.

Chris laughed for a short moment. “Y/N L/N. She will eat you alive, boy.”

“Has she found her soulmate yet?”

Demigods weren’t much better than their parents. They played around until they found their soulmate and that’s when they settled down. At least, for most. Some still had flings here and there, proving that they were just like the gods.

Luke’s question causes Chris to pause. He lightly chewed the inside of his mouth before stabbing his fork into a piece of bacon. “She doesn’t have a soulmate.” He murmured.

“How come?”

“We don’t know. She’s wondering the exact same question.” Chris shrugged before going back to his breakfast, “You can talk to her if you want but she’s a little mean so be careful of that.”

Luke quietly hummed, circling his finger around the rim of his cup.

The first time Luke talked to Y/N was when he and Annabeth were separated to go on different tours. Luke ended up with Y/N, who beamed at him and crinkled her eyes.

“Hi.” She effortlessly greeted him, waving.

“Sup.” Luke choked out, his voice accidentally going up a pitch higher. He cleared his throat. “I’m Luke.”

“So I’ve heard. Y/N.”

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence until Y/N spoke again. “Where’s your third person?” She questioned. “And I’m not talking about Grover.”

Chiron had tried to keep Thalia a secret but the gossip still managed to reach Y/N’s ears.

Slowly, Luke pointed at the tree that had mysteriously appeared this morning. It guarded the barrier between the camp and the mortal world.

“He turned her into a tree.” Luke grumbled, clearly displeased.

Y/N didn’t have to question who he was. Zeus, the king of the gods and ruler of the sky, had decided to turn his only daughter into a tree.

“Yes. The gods have always been a little… questionable. Shall we continue with the tour?” Y/N guided Luke forward. She did most of the talking while he listened, or at least tried to. It was hard when an absolutely stunning girl was standing in front of him.

“And last but not least, the strawberry field. Pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled as she stared at the fresh strawberries. Luke let out a small ‘yeah’ but he was still staring at her. Y/N clapped her hands together, finally bringing Luke back to reality. “That marks the end of our tour. Any questions?”

Luke shook his head.

“Great. Oh, and if you’re worried about your soulmate, they’ll show up at some point. All the new kids freak out over it. If you’re a demigod, it’s almost guaranteed that so is your soulmate.” Y/N smiled again, making Luke’s knees weak.

Where was a matching tattoo when he needed one?

“So, uh… your soulmate… what are they like?” Luke knew he was most likely overstepping a boundary when he asked that. But Y/N, used to the shame and embarrassment of not having one, merely shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know. For some reason, my mother wants me to spend my life alone.” Y/N laughed but Luke could see the pain that flashed through her eyes. The same exact agony that Luke had been experiencing after all his peers found their soulmates expect him.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have one either.” Luke piped up. “I guess we can be lonely together.”

Y/N carefully gazed up at him. She felt a glimmer of hope spark inside her chest but she shoved it down. She refused to get her hopes up. “Everybody has one, Luke. You do too. Maybe my mom just wanted me to play the role of Cupid.”

Y/N walked off before Luke could say anything else. Annabeth instantly replaced her. “What did you say to make her leave?” For a young kid, she sure had a sharp tongue.

“Don’t even, Annabeth.” Luke’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. He never had a problem with getting girls to like him because of his good looks, but they never stayed. And Annabeth took every chance she could to remind him of their awkward moments.

“What did you say, though? Did you mention your pet crocodile again?”

“First of all,” Luke retorted, “It was a spider. It was not a crocodile. And someone set him free! I really liked him too. And, I only asked her about her soulmate.”

“You’re an idiot.” Annabeth deadpanned, “Why would you ask that? Can’t you see that it’s a sore topic for her?”

“Not everybody is blessed with your wits, kid.” Luke playfully ruffled Annabeth’s hair while she huffed in frustration.

She quickly swatted his hands away. “What’s if she’s your soulmate?” Annabeth blurted out. “She doesn’t have a soulmate. You don’t have one. At least, you don’t have the common signs. What if that’s your soulmate bond?”

Luke chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way.”

“Maybe not… but either way, she’s still staring at you.”

Luke had never turned his head so fast. Y/N was perched on her cabin porch, leaning against the pretty wooden railing. And just as Annabeth had said, she was looking at him.

“Soulmate bond.” Annabeth repeated in that annoying singsong voice of hers.

Even as Luke walked back to the Hermes building, he couldn’t shake Annabeth’s words. Was Y/N really his soulmate? The person he had spent his entire life searching for?

Maybe. Standing next to her just felt so… right. He knew the moment he saw Y/N step out of her cabin that she’d have his unwavering attention.

Months passed by like seconds and years passed like days. Luke found himself becoming an expert at wielding a sword and not even Clarisse could disarm him. Y/N never bothered to try, always wanting to keep her appearance pristine under the hot sun.

“Do you ever get bored just lying around?” Luke questioned as he stood in front of Y/N. She was lying down under a large tree, enjoying the cool shade.

“No.” Y/N answered, closing her eyes. “I just don’t find it fun swinging around a sword in the hot sun.” The heat from the large star was unbearable during summer. Y/N hated the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin so she was commonly found under trees during the hottest season.

“Why not try swinging around a sword at night? It’s cooler at that time.”

“I’m good.” Y/N truely was a daughter of Aphrodite, caring about her appearance above all else.

“I heard Silena found her soulmate.” Luke uttered as he sat down, keeping his distance in case Y/N didn’t appreciate his company. But she said nothing so he assumed it was fine.

“Yeah. At least he’s nice. I’d hate for her to have an annoying soulmate.” Y/N laughed yet that familiar look of envy and sadness flashed across her eyes. Y/N did well in concealing her facial expressions but her gaze never lied.

Luke and Y/N were seventeen now, almost eighteen. They had known each other for years and Luke had managed to notice some of Y/N’s subtle habits.

He also knew her opinion on soulmates. She craved for one and found the courage to despise her mother for her lack love. She prayed for one when offering a sacrifice. She dreamed of finding her other half and every time she woke up, she was disappointed that it wasn’t a reality.

Y/N knew there was more to life than relationships but why didn’t she have a soulmate? That was a query only Aphrodite herself could answer.

“Still no soulmate for you I suppose?” Y/N asked, glancing at Luke who shook his head.

“The main reason I was looking for you was because I had some sort of… theory.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, suddenly curious. She gestured for Luke to continue.

“I don’t have a soulmate mark. You don’t have one either. What if, in a way, our lack of soulmate marks is our bond? If that makes sense.” Luke almost stumbled over his own words, suddenly feeling far too nervous.

“You think… I’m your soulmate?” Those words felt foreign as they slipped past Y/N’s lips. She was staring at Luke in slightly disbelief. “I don’t know, Luke. Maybe we just don’t have soulmates.” Y/N chuckled at the end of her sentence.

Luke’s breath nervously shuddered. “Okay… so if we don’t have soulmates then I can like anybody I want?”

“Technically, yeah.” Y/N aimlessly shrugged.

“Then I chose you.”

Y/N stared at him with her eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why me?”

“Because why not? I’m not taking pity on you, Y/N. I genuinely like you. As more than just a friend. The moment I saw you, I knew that if I had a soulmate, I would want it to be you. We can take it slow if you want. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

Y/N could only muster up a nod, still in shock.

She didn’t know what she was expecting to happen after her indirect acceptation to his confession but finding a small bouquet of roses on her bed was not what she had in mind.

“Oh, those are pretty. Who are those from?” Silena was at Y/N’s side in an instance, curious to see the flowers.

“Luke.” Y/N muttered as she flipped over the card, staring at the messy handwriting that was undeniably Luke’s.

“So my manifestation did work!” Silena exclaimed, happily clapping her hands together. “I’ve been shipping you guys since, like, forever! And I knew you wouldn’t make a move so I manifested Luke to.” Silena proudly beamed as she rocked back in forth on her heels, “I’m so happy for you two!”

Drew, on the other hand, was not.

“Cute pity bouquet, Y/N.” The ravenette said as she waltzed into the cabin.

“I will slap you with the thorns.” Y/N fired back.

At dinner, Y/N ended up sandwiched between Silena and Drew. For two girls who seemingly hated each other, Y/N and Drew sure spent a lot of time together.

“Here comes your lover boy.” Silena teased as she watched Luke guide a new camper towards the Hermes table. Y/N wasn’t sure if she should stare or look away but Luke was already locking eyes with her, smiling so widely that you’d think his deepest wish just came true.

“He’s not your soulmate.” Drew uttered.

“I know. We don’t all have to follow the rules of soulmates, do we? You should know that better than anyone else.”

Drew scoffed, angrily stabbing her fork into a piece of meat.

Y/N didn’t eat much. Her stomach felt too queasy whenever Luke so much as glanced at her. Was she nervous? Her leg was continuously bouncing up and down so she must be.

She left the pavilion early, expecting Luke to follow after her and feeling proud of her guess when he did. “Did you like the flowers?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Of course.” Y/N answered.

“I really like you, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance. Who cares about soulmates? You may as well be mine.” Luke engulfed Y/N into a tight hug, his hands resting at her waist and refusing to let go.

“I don’t know, Luke.” She whispered. She had spent so much time alone in the dark that she forgot what love even felt like. Was it the butterflies in her stomach? Or perhaps the loud pounding of her heart? Or maybe her cheeks that were flushed a bright pink hue under the moonlight?

All her worries seemed to effortlessly melt away as Luke suddenly kissed her. He stepped back just as quickly but Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her again.

She wasn’t sure what was happening but she could feel small beads of tears roll down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. Y/N swiftly wiped her tears away. As stupid and it sounded, that was her first kiss. And it was the first time someone showed a genuine interest in her, someone without a soulmate.

“If we do this, Luke… you have to promise not to leave me too quickly.” Y/N whispered so that only he could hear her voice.

“I don’t want my soulmate, if they even exist, Y/N. I want you.”

Those words echoed in Y/N’s head. I want you. Those three simple words set off fireworks in Y/N’s stomach. She felt her heart skip a beat.

She really shouldn’t have indulged in her own feelings when Luke might have a soulmate of his own but she couldn’t resist him when he was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes.

After that fated night, Luke rarely left Y/N’s side. He seemed to be attached at her hip and even when Clarisse laughed at him, he ignored her. Y/N was happy for a while.

It was the new girl that caused her fragile relationship with Luke to shatter into pieces. She really should have seen all this coming. She always noticed the bruises that lingered on Luke’s skin. Bruises that weren’t his but ones he simply brushed off as small injuries from all his hard training.

Y/N was the first to walk out of her cabin and, by default, that meant she would be showing the new camper around.

She had arrived early in the morning and while she was supposed to be resting in the infirmary, Y/N found her under the tree she usually sat at.

“You should be resting.” Y/N uttered. She could only see one side of the girl’s face but nevertheless, she was still pretty. Dyed blonde hair with heavy bangs framing her delicate and pale face and light grey eyes that nervously shifted from the ground to Y/N.

“They kept pestering me about my scar.” She mumbled, refusing to show Y/N her full face. “It’s my soulmate mark but they kept saying it wasn’t. Apparently… my soulmate has already found someone.”

She finally turned her head to reveal the scar. It was a jagged line, perfectly mimicking Luke’s. Y/N stiffened as the dread began to set in. She felt like she was going to collapse. Luke always preached about choosing Y/N over fate but would he do so now that his soulmate was here?

“Right.” Y/N choked out. “Well, let me show you around first.” It took all her energy to hide her true feelings. She didn’t want this girl to know that she was slowly but surely cracking under the pressure.

“I’m Lila, by the way.” The blonde muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Y/N.”

As usual, she saved the strawberry fields for last. Lila seemed impressed by the big, red berries that the Demeter kids had grown. “One last stop.” Y/N said as she led Lila to a certain cabin. She knew she would come to regret this but the matching scars weren’t exactly subtle.

Y/N knocked on the door and just as she hoped, yet dreaded, Luke answered. “Hey.” He grinned widely at her as he leaned against the door frame.

“Someone’s here for you.” Y/N stepped aside to reveal Lila. Luke paused before he chuckled.

“This is a joke, right? Y/N?”

But she was already walking, more like jogging, away.

Y/N watched from afar as Luke conversed with the girl who had the identical scar to his. It trailed over the same eye too and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what that meant. Luke had finally met his soulmate.

And Y/N was alone. Again.

The favourite child of Aphrodite. The golden star. The beautiful role model.

She was always destined to spend her life alone and perhaps she should have fully accepted that instead of falling in love with Luke, someone she couldn’t have no matter how hard she tried.

She ended up skipping breakfast and merely sitting in front of the vanity mirror, soullessly staring at her reflection. She wanted nothing more than for an ugly scar to taint her pretty face just so she could claim Luke as her soulmate.

She traced a faint line over her eye with light brown eyebrow and imagined that it matched with Luke’s. That, in another life, she could finally call someone hers.

The cabin door opened. Y/N didn’t have enough time to wipe the eyeshadow scar off before Drew walked in. The black-haired girl made an immediate beeline for her half-sister. Y/N thought Drew was going to taunt her as usual but she was shocked when the cruel girl hugged her instead.

“Soulmate or not,” Drew whispered, “He should choose you.”

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[derangedanomaly]

Part 1: Their s/o is a skeleton pt.1 (Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror) - For context

Their s/o is a skeleton PT.2

(Error, Dream, Ink, Swap)

Error:

Oh, he absolutely knows that you're a skeleton because you're dead.

How? He read your file. (Sneaky mf)

He might've been a little interested in you at that time. (Takes this to his grave)

He's the one that's, next to Dust, the MOST prepared! You want bandaids? He has a whole stock of them. You need snack's? Sure, what do you want?

He's like your little hero most of the time, it's actually really cute ❤️

Always ready to step in if you happen to be in danger.

He became a little sap because of you, no one really knows why, or where it come from.

Error speaking to Ink; "I hate you, and I wish I would've never met you! So tell me, why should I help you?!" ".... We've got Y/n-" "I'm in."

Uses his strings to secure you when on missions, since he has Haphephobia.

Really sweet towards you, but an ass to everybody else 💀

"Y/n! I need you to-" Killer spoke, but got cut off by Error. "I'll do it." There's a silence following after that. "Huh? Wha-Why? It's quite...hmm... dangerous." Error scoffed at Killer's dumbness. "Yeah. Exactly I want to do it for Y/n." You awed a little, grateful for Error's kind words.

After they ended their own conversations, you went up to Error, smiling at him. "Error..thank you for doing that!" Error smiled and used his strings to sort of...hug you? "It's no problem. I'd do anything for you..." You blinked and looked at him, confused. "Huh? I'm sorry- what did you say," Error blushed deep yellow and stammered. "A- Uh.. it's nothing! Really..." After awhile of you both staring into each others eyes, Error snapped out of it blushing profusely.

"I GOTTA GO! THE ANTIVOID'S ON FIRE!!!" You laughed as he teleported away. What a liar..heh.

Dream:

Oh my god! You're dead?! Is his immediate reaction. After that follows a quick stammer of these words: "Are you ok?! I mean- you're dead, of course you're not ok! BUT DOES IT STILL HURT?! OH MY GOD!!!!"

He's like a worried mother. 💀

Becomes even more worried when he finds out you're bones are easily breakable.

Someone, please calm him down!

Don't get him wrong, he is usually composed and calm, but he literally went crazy after you told him this mind-blowing fact to him.

I mean, he loves you, very dearly. But he just found out that his crush is actually dead, and is very fragile.

After getting used to this, Dream treats you as if you were made out of porcelain.

He's being so very careful for you. You could be doing anything. Even the simplest of things, and he'd be watching you like a hawk, checking if you'll be ok.

He stopped doing that after you told him it's making you uncomfortable, but decided to instead hold your hand, or lay his hand on your back. (Depending on what you're doing.)

Doesn't bring you on fights on many occasions. (Doesn't like seeing you hurt.)

But if you do end up in a fight, he makes sure to always put you first. No one else matters except you when it comes to fights. Not even himself. He'd rather sacrifice himself then watched you die. 😭

You were watching a movie, when you felt it..the intense gaze....

Like a hawk ready to strike. You silently gulped, turning around. You were met with Dream's gaze. "Uhm...hi Dream..? Something's the matter?" Dream shook his head, his gaze never leaving you. You groaned. You thought he was over this! You turned to him. "Dream! I thought that I told you, that you don't need to watch over me in these situa-" "You're pretty." Everything fell silent, as you let his words sink in. You blinked a few times, red blush starting to appear on your face.

"Huh?" "You're very pretty tonight, Y/n." Is that why he was staring?? You didn't had any words, shock overcoming you. "Um..thank you??" He flashed you a gentle smile, then went up the stairs. What a weird night.

Ink:

Oh, so you weren't born a skeleton? Cool cool. But can you watch thi-

He doesn't care. And it's not because he's an asshole, it's because he doesn't find it really mind-blowing.

He doesn't change his view about you just cause you're dead! Hah!

He's that kind of a friend that would laugh if you'd done something to yourself. Like broke a bone on accident or something. Trust me, he WILL laugh his ass off.

He might be doing all these things, but he did find himself chasing after you. He didn't know that though. (Remember. He doesn't really have emotions..)

He probably never felt these emotions before, so he doesn't know that he loves you, until one specific moment.

The moment where you confess to him. He should feel happy in this moment! But he just feels- sorry. For you. He thinks he doesn't deserve your love, simply because his emotions are fake.

So he studies these emotions further!

He suddenly becomes an expert at love. 🤠

Keeps telling you cringe things, thinking that'd woe you... "I wanna be your sigma baby!" You just look at him in disgust. "Don't... don't do that..."

Ink loves to capture small moments on camera, so he has a ton of pictures with you two! He has them all printed out, sticked on his wall.

Every time he looks at them, he thinks of you. And that just makes him feel...alive.

You were walking down the stairs when you suddenly tripped. You groaned, about to stand up, until you heard a loud crack. Oh no.... your leg bone just broke! Great.. "OH MY GOD! I can't believe you just plummeted a whole flight of stairs!" You groaned even more when you heard the voice of that rat...Ink.

"Ink...can you help me instead of laughing at me?" "No." Was his immediate response before laughing his ass off furthermore. "You're such an ass..." Ink chuckled, suddenly holding you up bridal style. "Yeah, but I'm your ass." You couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Yeah.."

Swap:

Is kinda...chill? It's actually really weird. You would think he'd freak out the most.

It was actually just cause Error told him beforehand. (Swap bribed him 💀

He was surprised, but didn't change the way he treated you.

The only thing he did is just...admire you from afar.

You kinda became his role model. He just admires you so much! He thinks it's incredible how you can still push forward even in your conditions.

Has kitty bandaids in his pockets prepared just for you :)

Just a lil cutie, always making sure you're ok.

Always encouraging you in everything you do! He's your little cheerleader.

Tried to calm Dream down when he found out. "It's ok Dream! They're ok! Stop overreacting!"

He might be the good guy. But if he finds out...that someone hurt you... he'll personally eliminate them. And he's not really hiding it either. He's actually thriving in it. (Which makes you kinda nervous.)

"S-Swap?" You called out his name. You needed his assistance. Nightmare severely hurt you. Broke a few bones... Swap immediately went to your side.

"Y/n! Are you ok?! What happened?" You frowned and explained him the situation. "Nightmare happened. That's what.." you slowly went to sit down, watching Swap curiously. "...Swap?" You suddenly saw a flick of anger across his face. "I'M GONNA TEAR HIM TO SHREDS THAT EVEN DREAM WON'T RECOGNIZE HIM!!" You jumped, being shocked. You never saw Swap act like this.

He was about to rush out the door, until you stopped him, holding his sleeve. "Swap, no! It's ok...just...help me patch up? Please.." Swap looked at you sadly, until nodding his head going over to the medkit. "I'm sorry...Y/n. I don't know what came over me..." You nodded, wincing from your injuries. "... I'm still going to annihilate him.." you looked at him with confusion. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" "Nothing. Just that I love..." He stopped himself from finishing that sentence. "Tacos. I love Tacos." Swap blurted out avoiding your eye contact.

..

.

"And also you..."

#sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #undertale fandom #sans au #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #error sans x reader #killer sans x reader #horror sans x reader #dream sans x reader #ink sans x reader #swap sans x reader

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Horsemen of the Apocolypse

My headcannons of what the boys would be as the Four Horsemen of the apocopyse! I havn't seen this idea yet and I thought it would be pretty neat.

Masterlist

Paul - Death

I feel like he fits because he likes to kill, but he isn't as sadistic as the other boys

More silly and has more leeway of how his victims die

He treats hunting as a pass time, or a simple hobby

He knows that his victims will die, but he's not very worried about his victims getting away

Death isn't just dying, it's mourning, loosing, feeling intense emotions, and sometimes it causes the living to kill themselves

Those are what he call "Day's Off" since there's no day off for Death

If they were a good or innocent person, he'll appear as a comforting figure while taking their soul

If they were, say, a murder, he would kill them like how they killed their victims (He only does this on days he has more time, Death's a Busy guy, ya know?)

He knows at the end of the day, he'll get them, they'll die, and the cycle will begin again.

Over, and over, and over, and over, for all of his eternity

Living is worse in his opinion

He has a garden of souls where everybody he takes goes

If they were good, they go to their respective afterlife (It's a whole thing, he doesn't like to get into it, too much paperwork)

If not, either their equivalent of Hell, or if they believed in nothing, they serve him

They get him all kinds of things, like his book of names, the quill in ink blood, and sometimes has them work underneath the other boys

He's got too many to know what to do with, it's like his version of sims

Marko - Famine

Marko's more sadistic, he likes to watch his victims suffer

Faminem in his mind, is about causing individual suffer, not mass scale like war or death

It's tailored to each victim, earing its own challenge in a way

Marko like the challenge of finding way to starve them, not just of food, but attention, love, money, anything he can

He especially likes starving people of their looks, he thinks that people put too much into them instead of other things, like love or something else humans should enjoy.

He does this through making food rot, causing food posining

Perhaps a batch of cosmetics had an expired ingredient in it and cause a total recall since it was giving people severe allergic reactions

Or perhaps somebody relies on the attention of others, and he's caused their friends to become busy for some odd reason or another

His kiss is deadly

Since most times people get sick from touching their lips or eyes, he'll visit them when they're sleeping so as not to disturb them

Then he'll breath into the mouth of whatever disease he wants to infect them with

If it's an infection from a wound, he'll casually spit in it when possible, other than that he'll drag his infected fingernail in the shape of an "X"

War - Dwayne

There's more planning when it comes to war, Dwayne is meticulous and thoughtful

He plants the seed in people’s heads, usually through anger

Dwayne like psychologically torturing his victims

He put the thought that a another man was sleeping with a man's wife, causing a fight between the two

He pits parents and children against each other too

A mother hates her son as he acts exactly like his deadbeat father

He fuels countries feuding over pointless debts and social policies

His workspace is kinda set up like map of the world where he can zoom in on areas and specific people

He often partners with David and Marko to cause more destruction in peoples life

Marko enjoys the personal torment, and David loves the added control over areas afterwards

If Paul has an excess of workers at the moment, he'll usually give them to Dwayne as he sees Dwayne as the most responsible one

If war is going on, he'll put them as ghost of soldiers of the enemy side, tricking them into attacking

Otherwise, he'll place them into causing war between their families

as punishment for their crimes in life

Sometimes animals wander their way into their realm, which of course, Dwayne uses to his advantage

He'll send them in the form of demons to cause anguish against people, causing their friendships to turn to ruin

The animals of course return to their afterlife, which usually consists of people in the good afterlives giving pets and companionship

Conquest - David

David loves to control, it makes him feel like he's the only one with power

While he knows this isn't exactly true, as none of the other boys can function without each other, he still secretly feels a little superior

He loves having power over people, since logically, in his mind, the boys could do without him

Dwayne sorta covers the conquest part since war often leads to the destruction and rebuilding of nations, fighting over boarders, etc.

If it can't be on a wide scale, he'll usually move to companies

Funnily enough, his "idea" for Walmart is what lead to it having a huge monopoly over other stores

It's less interesting to do it to families, since the natural conquest of generations over the other won't get challenged, especially since people are more willing to talk to each other in a healthy way

It makes David sick to hear humans getting along

If Paul and Dwayne don't have a use for any of the souls, David will gladly take them in

He loves having subjects and things it's unfair how many Paul gets

He loves to watch them bend to his every will

Since his specific part in bringing about the end of the world is less work, he'll mess with the souls

David will appear in human form, as a king of a new nation promising complete control over those who wrong the souls in life

Of course it's lies, but who cares? They're dead, and it's not like they'll have a shortage of dead people

#david tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #the lost boys #david the lost boys #david x reader #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne x reader #paul x reader #marko x reader #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys 1987 #the lsot boys marko #the lost boys marko #paul tlb x reader #marko tlb x reader #david tlb x reader #dwayne tlb x reader

[hanaotaku95]

Joey Drew is a liar

I wanted to follow up on my previous post with something a little more in depth.

I said that the Ghost!Joey likely was lying to Audrey when he was telling the story about her creation, and I full believe this to be true.

It has been confirmed that Joey is a very unreliable narrator, to the point that his biggest fan, supporter and friend, Nathan Arch, took notice of this in the book “Illusions of Living”. His entire life has revolved telling stories, starting with his mother telling him how elves helped his father make shoes. This extended to his time in the army, where he helped a girl who had a crush on him who became depressed about moving to England by telling her a story about their characters. Then again, maybe these tales are fake as well, seeing as Joey is an unreliable narrator.

Not only is Joey Drew an unreliable narrator, but he shows all the signs of being a sociopath. When he was 10 years old, he saw a man almost die after falling from a building but wasn’t bothered by it. He lies on the regular and omits true that. He knows of emotions and has shown to be able to manipulate others with his charms.

An example is Susie Campbell. Despite not being attracted to women, Joey took her out to dinner and charmed her. He knew how important Alice was to Susie and yet still replaced her with Allison Pendle, and on top of that, he led Susie to her death with the promise of an opportunity, turning her into the Twisted Alice we see in all three Bendy games.

Through his experiments, he is responsible for the deaths of Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, who would become the Boris that Henry befriends in Ink Machine, as well as several employees who were handling the machine and the Ink Demon after Joey Drew studios came under fire for claims of employee abuse, unsafe working conditions and threats or bankruptcy, becoming the Lost Ones we see in the Studio.

The Ink creatures are not memories and Henry was not a memory of the real person. All of them were real people, and we see this with Grant Cohen’s audio log, Jack Fain down in the sewers, Twisted Alice and Bertrum Piedmont. Henry was brought to the Studio after Joey Drew sent him a letter, the very first thing we see in Bendy and the Ink Machine. And at the very end of the game, we see the conversation the two former friends had, where Joey lowkey blames Henry for leaving and being one of the causes of the Studio going under.

So with Bendy and the Dark Revival out, there is talk of everything in the Cycle being fiction. Audrey is told the story of her creation by the “memory” of Joey Drew.

But that is the thing, that is not the real Joey Drew, but an idealized version of him that he may even genuinely see himself as. He crafted a story that essentially absolved him of all responsibility by making Henry out to be a simple memory and not the real person. Like with Nathan Arch, he painted himself as a more positive figure with flaws.

And as for Wilson, well, the man also is a story teller.

Neither of these men should be taken seriously in terms of telling the truth. They are story tellers and sociopaths, and all evidence outside of their own words is telling. So none of the lore previously established has been retconned.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk! Despite its flaws, BATDR is an enjoyable game to watch and I can’t wait for it to be released for the Switch

#bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #Joey Drew #spoilers #don’t trust anything that comes out of that man’s mouth #Audrey Drew

[sim-ply-lilacs]

As soon as the wedding was over, Josef, Bea, and her mother left for the farm. There was no time to linger over the old cottage and all its sweet memories and bitter remorses, no time to brush fingers across the spot on the wall where Beatrice had spilled a bottle of ink as a child, or to kiss goodbye the trees she'd climbed as a girl. It was planting season, and she was a farmer's wife now. The farm must come first.

Except, Bea didn't yet feel like much of anybody's wife. Other than the addition of her new ring and the sight of her things in the bedroom and communal areas of the cabin, ever since she'd returned her borrowed wedding gown to Mrs. Landgraab, there wasn't much to signify that much beyond her location had changed. With the rush to resume planting, she had barely seen her husband save when they brushed up against each other while in the fields, or when he offered her a small smile at the well when they paused for a drink.

And yet, Bea knew Josef loved her. She knew it in that smile, she knew it in the way he took time to plant her a garden of herbs and flowers by the kitchen, she knew it when she saw the amused twitch of his mustache as he watched her coo over the baby chicks. They loved each other, the bustle of the farm just sometimes made it hard to show that.

Despite the hardships inherent in farm living, Bea loved their little patch of earth. The animals, especially. Bea had always loved animals, but hadn't had any since her last cat had died some months before her father grew ill. Oh, how she loved a warm, purring kitten—not that they had room for one on the farm. Farm animals were a different, but no less wonderful, source of joy. The chicks were an endless source of fluffy, fuzzy joy (and soon eggs) and the cows, with their large eyes and even temperaments, were sweet companions who didn't mind listening to her prattle on and who could be trusted to keep her secrets.

"I'll admit that farm life isn't necessarily what I thought it would be, Daisy," Bea chatted companionably with the Holstein cow Josef brought home the day he and Bea married, "but I do like many parts of it. I wasn't raised to be a farmer's wife, you see. I was supposed to be heading off to the University of Britechester this fall to get my B.A. in literature. There isn't much use for Chaucer or Dante on the farm, I'm afraid." At this, she laughed. "Unless of course you'd like to discuss Purgatorio or Boethius with me, Daisy dear."

"Sometimes, I confess, I'm still not sure how I ended up here after the life I planned for myself. Oh well, perhaps it is as our dear Mr. Tennyson said, 'Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die." Oh dear, that's a bit morbid, isn't it? Maybe a bit of the good book then? 'Thou waterest the hills from thy upper rooms: the earth shall be filled with the fruit of thy works: bringing forth grass for cattle, and herb for the service of men. That thou mayst bring bread out of the earth and that wine may cheer the heart of man. That he may make the face cheerful with oil: and that bread may strengthen man's heart.'"

"Well, bread certainly strengthens my heart—even if I haven't exactly perfected how to make it yet—and wine does cheer the hearts of men, so let's pray for the grass for the cattle and herb for the service of men, and all shall be well, indeed!"

Later that evening, after dinner was (somewhat pitifully—Bea was new to cooking, to say the least) made and eaten, Bea took some time to herself to think over the day before joining Josef in their bedroom.

While it's true that she was settling nicely into life on the farm, and while she remained sure of Josef's affections, there was one area of her marriage that Bea found herself worrying about. Namely, the physical side of things.

Oh, she knew it wasn't proper for ladies to think about things, and she wasn't exactly dwelling on the topic, but she was concerned that Josef hadn't, er, broached the subject. She knew he'd been exhausted since the wedding from managing the planting from sunup to sundown, but what if it was more than that? What if...what if he loved her, but not in that way? His kisses were just as nice and frequent as they'd been during their brief engagement. More frequent, even. However, despite working the land together and sharing the same room, bed, and last name, he still acted as though they were courting. She half expected him to hold her hand in the parlor and then walk her home!

Bea arose sharply. Enough of this, she decided. There was only one thing to be done: no matter how she blushed or stammered, she must go and speak to her husband.

With that, she strode across the room, head held high, into the hallway, through the door to her room...

...only to find a still clothed Josef asleep on the bed.

With a weary little laugh, Bea plopped down on the chair next to the mirror. Well, it seems her little conversation was going to have to wait for another day. Bea sighed. Time to get ready for bed.

Prev ~ Next ~ Beginning

#decades challenge #moody legacy #simblr #sims 4 #decades challenge gen 1 #new simblr #sims 4 decades challenge

[three-eyed-skullbunny]

White picket fences

Barbed wire and trenches

Trick or treat, merry christmas

Howdy neighbor, thank you Jesus

Oh what is he building in that painted lady?

A participation trophy wife, or blonde, blue eyed baby

Wide eyed and wired, the snap crackle pop of the Geiger

Camouflage billboards for lead lined brooks brothers

You elbow the jukebox and sing duck and cover

And breed out our incisors, feed on white wine and Pfizer

It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die

Suburbiaaaa~

You’re not aloneeee~

The lights are onnnnn~

But no one’s home (so welcome home)

Myers Briggs, OKULTRA

Takes a village to fake a whole culture

Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball

Your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall

Oh well, home is where heart is

You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless

It’s the safest on the market

But you still gotta watch where you park it

So give me your half life crisis

I can tell you don’t know where paradise is

Where parasites don’t care what your blood type is

Only pheromones

Is it true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard

Everyone knows that, nobody knows that

Everybody’s all up in my, everybody’s all up in my

Everybody’s all up in my BUSINESS

Suburbiaaaaa~

Where you belonggggg~

The lights are onnnnn~

But no one’s home (so welcome home)

Chameleon peacocks are talk of the town

Well, word gets around on hit number stations

He cums radiation

The dog bites the postman, while basement eyes dream

Of a night at the drive in, with an AR-15

I dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire

We fucked on a bed of nails

I caught kuro from your sister and died laughing in jail

Smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on the Fourth of July grill

Smile and wave boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love

Please pass the pills

It’s only culture, it’s only culture, it’s only

Cultureee~

Sulfur smoke and soot

You learned to torture house cats like vultures

You cocked and sucked your lack of empathy

Pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you’ve got

BLOOD

Didn’t they want your blood?

So why apologize for being blue and cold

Blood, didn’t they want your blood?

So why apologize when you’ve turned blue and cold

🎶🎶🎶🎶

It’s only culture, it’s only culture, it’s only

Ah- ah- ah- ah

Culture’s not your friend

Hey fuck your culture, I ain’t got no culture

It’s only culture and it’s more afraid of you than you are of it!

C’mon drink that blood!

Didn’t they want your blood

So why apologize when you’ve turned blue and cold

Blood, didn’t they want your blood?

So don’t apologize for being blue and cold

Were you Nabokov to a Salinger

Were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary

Were you mother, daughter, subject, and author

You don't make the rules, you just write them down and

Do it by the book you throw around

Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn

Going against the grain and catching splinters

You pull out your Rorschach like a paint-by-numbers treasure map

The ink upon on your jigsaw piece traces you back to your fingerprints

Well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and I guess you'll too, and die

The Lord looked down, said, "hey, you're only mortal"

Giveth and taketh away 'till things come out a certain way

Leave you wondering when they might go back to normal

Leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal

#will wood #suburbia overture #vampire culture #aphroula gets asks

[ramayantika]

Sakhi bring me a spare parchment,

I need to write to my daughter.

"Which daughter? You sent your children far away."

My eyes shine once again,

As they once did years back when I was nothing but a young girl

Who frolicked in the courtyard of the temple.

"Not them, sakhi. A daughter shall live

Who shall dance like me,

But she shall be free.

Free like how art should have been.

I see her in my dreams as she sweetly calls me 'amma'

And her feet? They always look red.

I hear her jingling ankle bells!

She sings, dances and dreams,

But fulfills her dreams unlike her mother.

I am tied. I was tied. I am going to be free soon.

My daughter is free."

And my dearest friend hands me a worn down parchment.

There is not much strength left in my hands, my pen is trembling.

However, I must write today

And let the ink dance on the parchment

For this is a dancer's story.

Which shall soon be forgotten by the world.

The world which once adored her,

Considered her auspicious, made her a goddess,

The same world made her a prostitute.

My art, my dance is now impure.

They made me dance for Shiva, and

I revered Nataraja

And now his dance is impure. Is the said God too?

Who is impure truthfully?

Dearest daughter,

I have seen you in my dreams, seen you dance.

Your two lovely agile feet capture movements so fast,

Your enchanting eyes look around everywhere, examining each thing in detail.

Observation, a skill essential for dance,

For we are storytellers and actors

And stories are found everywhere.

Look around and learn.

The world dances, you must too.

You have grown up into such a lovely woman, dearest one.

I am your mother, the mother with a tainted history

Who has nothing to bless you with

But dance, my story and wishes for

A life where you are free.

I can feel my breath turning heavy,

My vision is slowly blurring out.

Don't worry, your mother has spun

A hundred times in this glorious temple

For Him, for them, and seldomly for herself.

I can focus on the parchment for a little while longer perhaps?

Child, learn to dance for yourself too.

My beauty once praised is long lost. The jewels underneath my bed

Cannot cure me of this disease.

I have to die. I am going to my husband

As the people tell -- Shiva is my final destination.

The dance in this mortal plain has bound me,

With Shiva, I am to dance in gay abandon.

I have worshipped the gods through dance.

Shuddha Nrityam they call it,

I wish people looked at me with shuddha drishti.

I am mere seconds away now

Before the noose of Yama lands on me.

My lovely daughter, I hope your time shall be different.

I was doomed to live in the darkest chapter of nritya,

But joy shall adorn my heart when you find me.

People shall label me tainted, a very sensual woman, woman of lust,

But who taints me? What taints me?

This body which shall now perish

Holds no longer the burning lecherous gaze of lustful men.

My eyes do not see the people trying to purify me.

My ears no longer hear degraded hushed whispers of how this flesh has been touched my many.

My lips only speak your name.

I wish you were here, my child.

Let me see you once again before I depart for Shiva's abode.

Ah! Right there you are!

You were hiding from me for so long.

Don't you cry once my pen stops for,

Amma is always with you, silently watching you, silently protecting you,

Silently teaching you dance.

Find me soon, child... I hope you find me in my true form.

Be blessed! May you dance always!

Om Shanti....

********

I will post the daughter's reply to this piece ater. Now just for some context, I had written this piece I think in 2021 when I had stumbled on this topic while watching some dance documentaries. I looked through every video, read books about these hereditary dances, and did some research about the injustice meted out to them in the name of reforms and purity which ultimately had almost led the glorious dance forms of india to extinction and I had various questions, I still think I do. These women who were once rich, had their own lands and money, they were independent and well versed in various subjects apart from music and dance were now reduced to prostitution and called names.

Somewhere as I read more about them I wondered what connected us apart from the dance form. I think freedom? Maybe knowledge? The knowledge that we need to undertake as we learn dance because we don't only just copy off the movements that we learn in class.

And one night it struck me somehow. I still remember that night. I was studying for my 12th boards term 1 exam that was 2 months away I guess and it was very late at night and I kinda dozed off where I almost an epiphany like thing over this. I couldn't stop myself from writing this down. For me every artistic work, be it writing or dancing, no matter how large or small the job is, I always meditate for a while and then begin. For me whatever little experience I have had with art, it is an expression of the divine, it feels magical and is like a thread that connects me to the past and the present.

This topic is controversial. There can be countless debates over this and I am really not good with the political side of things. This piece is something from my heart as a small tribute to the endless amount of women who served dance and sustained it for as long as they could to be passed on to us even today.

#samridhi writes #danceblr #poetry #indian poetry #dance poems

[anotherrosesthatfell]

[E.L.A] everyone opinions on Lily <3

Adults

Dream:

"My daughter is very beautiful like her mother but sometimes I feels her aura is...off. of course, I'm not saying she is creepy, it's just her aura feels like her (Nim)

Ink:

"Lily is soulless like me, I should've seen this coming when her existence clearly cause me discomfort. Anyway, I do hope one day someone will love her and willingly to gave their half soul to Lily.... Just like Error did for me so I can have emotions"

Swap:

"Mweh heh heh, I couldn't be more grateful when she healed my legs. Thanks to her, I can be more helpful to my friends. I sent my gratitude to her by inviting her to my au, she became very happy and lovelier everytime she visited my au!"

Hope:

"Well, isn't she's the little girl who Dream decided to take care of, when it's clearly lady Ink and that bastard octopus responsibilities? Hmm... I do not hold anything opinion of her. I can't say I like her and I can't say I dislike her... But I must say, lady Lily isn't someone want to be close with. They should run if she says her greeting."

Nightmare:

"Hmm, my daughter huh? Well, because of her, Dream and I actually made truce after years... I do want to take care of my little girl but oh well, Error want to kill me because you know Ink is his ex and here I am hooked up with Ink."

Killer:

"I am a little bit grateful the fact the little girl didn't live with us... It's much more safer to stay with Dream."

Horror:

"She's looks very much like Crescent. Almost reminded me of Angst too, especially her intelligent."

Dust:

"I suggest everyone should stay away from her. I don't understand how Dream can tolerates her when she clearly killed couple of people then gawk their eyes and rip off their faces. I seen it and I am glad my face doesn't attracted her that much."

Reaper:

"She doesn't own a candle life... Everyone have it but that child is like Geno..."

Geno:

"Goth says a lot about her. Reaper too. I am curious but Reaper forbid me to come closer to her, even if it a small wave."

Children

Palette:

"at first, I thought I was paranoid until I live through almost over 300 timelines because of her. That thing is no one want it to exist. I remember a couple of timelines, she torture me and turned me into a doll and sometimes stitch my mouth so I can't scream. Mostly, she took my eyes and left me bleeding then die... I am not her only victim but I can say, I am her top target..."

Lux:

"Unclemare used to told me a lot that I have to kill her right away when she was born but I couldn't bring myself to do it... Now, I understand why he said that. He warns me to never interact with Lily ever again... You don't want to know what's in her room, it's just sickening."

Drop:

"I am disappointed to have such sister like her... No, I am ashamed to call her my sister. What she did to Palette and Merciless is just unforgivable... I remember couple of timelines where she take out Merciless organs and stuff cotton in him then dance with him... It's just horrible, it's disgusting. What can't I forget the most is when she beheaded Palette and... Urgh, I cannot say anything anymore. It's too horrible."

Merciless:

"Ah... Honestly she creeps me out and uh... Made me really uncomfortable most of the time. I prefer hanging out with Drop since she respect my boundaries at least and act like a child but Lily.. It made me want to puked when I remember what she did to me... I stop visiting Palette or Lux cause I know Lily will be there, watching us as if we are her dolls."

Goth:

"For the first time, I don't want to have any attentions from anyone. Lily, she... She killed a friend of mine and gawked her eyes. It's not the first time, she killed a lot of influencers but only with pretty faces. After that, I decided that Palette and Drop live with me as I am aware they are beautiful and can be the next victims of Lily...."

Crescent:

"She's definitely a demon in disguise. No child supposed to act like that... Merciless cried at me and told me the horrible things Lily did to him.. It's my first time seeing my little brother cries... Dream, Ink and almost adults found her innocent. May God never forgive her."

Angst (spirit):

"She's a demon. Quetzalcoatl made a mistake by giving her the wrong blessing, especially when she is already soulless. That dumb b-tch... Even grandma are super pissed."

Angst (alive au):

"Oh princess Lily? She is the most loveliest girl I ever know. I don't understand how my brothers hates her to the core."

#evil lux au #undertale au #lilylunætic #ship child #inkmareshipchild #dream sans #ink sans #corrupted nightmare sans #dust sans #swap sans #horror sans #killer sans #lux sans #palette roller #palette sans #merciless sans #drop sans #crescent sans #angst sans #reaper sans #geno sans #evil lily au

[exmotranny]

i don't want to write poems anymore.

the soft short sweet lines, the beautiful versions of my pain, the polished mirror, the makeup caked onto my face.

i feel like i'm drowning, i think that's the secret. i feel like i'm drowning, im sitting in class, i'm hanging with friends, i'm holding their hand, but i'm drowning. my head hurts. my knee hurts. my teeth hurt.

i want to tear out my bones.

i want to stab myself in the stomach. i want to hurt you. ocd don't make me neat, the opposite really, the clothes strewn across the floor, the shame, the thoughts in my head i'd never dare say. i think i'm a bad person.

i'm laying in bed, looking at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. i'm laying in bed, and it's cold. i'm laying in bed, and god is not there. i'm here.

my head is pounding.

i'm listening to my favorite band and i think i feel okay for a moment. the sun appears from behind a cloud, it's warm. i'm tired. my eyes hurt.

sometimes i want to die, but it's become more than sometimes. some days i think about killing myself, but now it's every day. a lot of the time, i'm tired. i don't wanna be here anymore. where are you?

i wanna go home.

im staring at my shoes during class. algebra, functions, equations, it's all drowned out by the blood sloshing in my skull. im planning my suicide again.

i want to sit on the train tracks.

sometimes i hope my parents' religion is right about what happens after death. 

sometimes i wish my mom would stop crying so much.

i'm tired of disappointing people, you know? i'm tired of my mother's sigh at my messy room, i'm tired of my friends' sadness when i cancel on plans again, i'm tired of my teachers saying i know you're smarter than this.

i stare at my failing grades, i stare at my apologetic texts, i stare at the space i occupy while giving nothing in return.

i'm tired isn't cutting it anymore.

but i am! and i'm watching my peers grow and get jobs and learn to drive and get A's and i'm still where i've been for years.

because i'm tired.

so many years of therapy and medications and recovering but not actually getting better and school counselor meetings and staring at my hands as yet another person says they'd miss me if i was gone.

i'm sorry that they care. i wish they didn't.

i'm vomiting words on a page, ball of yarn that won't unravel. barbed wire. shiny ink black and it's tipped with blood and god it hurts why can't they see how much it hurts

why can't i rest?

but i'll push it down, another reason not to die, another lie to myself to keep my hands still rather than point a weapon at my head

but i don't want to lie anymore, i don't want to write anymore, i don't want to live anymore.

please don't miss me.

#vent #im sorry please dont worry about me i just. need to vent #god #idk if im gonna make it to christmas #im so tired

[andromerot]

mabel, episode eight point five: letter from juniper. in which history comes alive again

Dear Lily.

All day and all night I thought about writing you this letter, saw it unfold in my mind, and so now that I am here with my paper and my ink it does not seem like a real thing, but like a task one undertakes in a dream. When I am finished I will curl this paper up and tuck it in an acorn shell and throw it through your bedroom window; I dreamed this, too, and did I dream you? Are you real? Are you anything of flesh, do you breathe?

Sometimes, when I look out of your mirror at you, I think that I am looking at a piece of my own soul, torn loose and tossed into the world. Not because you belong to me, but because you are familiar and strange at the same time. Lily, you are a person, you are a creature all in your own right – and isn’t that curious? How can something like you have come to be? I want to unpick you, like stitches, to see what makes you run – but I won’t. I will content myself with drawing your name over my wrist-bone to consider how you turn my blood into gold.

You were small when I was small. I watched you through the bluestar, through the blazing star. It was my mother warned me against you, but I heard you singing in the cinnamon fern and thought you were beautiful: a thing I could never touch. Like the crest of Orion. Like the farthest Pleiades. You wore erythronium in your hair, like your name; the yellow trout lily. Lily, lily. Sometimes I think I would eat you if I could. There is a witch in a story who ate a girl she loved, and always afterwards when she spoke, flowers fell out of her open mouth. I would swallow you up, and you would be lobelia on my tongue for the rest of my life. This is what they say: it is not uncommon for us to want to eat what we love.

But you are uncommon. Every moment we have spent together is a shining stone in the bowl of my skull. I am greedy, and so I take them out and look at them now and then, like a dragon. The day we went to the buried well and threw butterfly weed down into the black water to count our wishes. The first time you stepped out of your dress for me, gold in the sun, yellow and gold. The night I brought you into the hill, when you clung to me like lichen and in the hall your eyes were cups of firelight. The day in the rain, both of us laughing.

Dear Lily: my mother taught me many things but she did not teach me this.

Where does it come from, the thread that ties us together? Who spun it? What is it composed of, what is its matter? I have half a mind to unpick myself, to find the source; but I won’t.

That day in the field of green-and-golds. You said who are you, where did you come from. I said I came from the hill; I am the girl who does not die. You laughed, and I fell in love with you, there. There: I wrote it down, I turned it into ink and made it something tangible (but you could burn this letter and I would still love you, so it must be something beyond matter). See it here in black and white. I love you, girl from the house on the hill, girl with the hair made of sunbeams. I love you, knot in my heart. I love you, hands on my hands, hands on my ribs, mouth on my mouth. I love you, stone in my shoe. I love only you. Only you. Only ever you.

Yours always,

Juniper.

nice

#andys seventh mabel relisten: a beautiful liveblogged adventure #hope this helps !

[bobateaboo]

*sits politely* k so tell me about your ocs

EHEHHEHEHEEEHEHEHE OK OKOKOKOK

(tw for references to abuse because my ocs have tragic backstory for days)

ok so I'm jumpin around doin my favorites here. first off; Piper

Piper, before being the bastard goat child she is, was a bastard human child! except said bastard human child was in an ongoing abusive environment and most of the bastardry was in an attempt to get revenge on the world around her. now it's just bc old habits die hard

essentially, Piper's life was her mom, who was physically abusive, and then all the adult at school who treated her like she was made of glass because she couldn't see. one day, Mom Of The Year got bored of this whole "raising a child" bullshit and took her on a walk to mt. ebott, where she promptly drove off and left Piper there

Piper, of course, falls into the underground (it should be noted that during the falling process, Piper ends up landing in a different Au than she started in, this one an Underfell au). she meets Smidge, Instant besties, and gets adopted by everyone's favorite Goat Mom while the rest of the monsters in the ruins try to kill her. Fun Times

so now she has essentially switched from Abusive Mother In A World That Treats Her Like Glass to Mother Who Treats Her Like Glass In A World That's Trying To Kill Her, but this time with a flower friend. she peaces out, hangs with the skeleton bros (and gets battle training from UF Papyrus, she still visits sometimes) and then goes on with her way of multiverse hopping and causing trouble for anyone who stands still and some people who don't.

at some point Indigo finds them and decides "yeah these two are my new siblings now" and brings them to codebound, where they are still happily living, with the get out of jail free card that is a super powered older sibling and mommy issues that could fees a small village

Ok next up; Solar and his planets!

all of the planets have suitably tragic backstories, but while most of them have things that can and do happen in the real world (child abuse, trafficking, dog fighting rings, rich people), Saturn and Jupiter are from a full on coliseum style arena. I call this out because they wrecked ass and still do

now, for the big boss himself! Solar is the son of two Very Important Heroes, Daydream and Dapple (this universes version of Dream and Ink, they're still called that sometimes) and hates them both with a passion. We'll get to why in a sec

Daydream was very, Very concerned about two of the resident bad guys that follow him around, Nightterror and Daybreak (another Dream variant) hurting him, and spent a lot of time out keeping tabs on them to make sure they didn't hurt his baby. unfortunately in the time he spent watching the bad guys he was not watching five year old Solar, so they kinda scooted on in while there was an emergency and kidnapped him. Whoops!

Daybreak and Nightterror (mostly Daybreak) taught Solar several fun ideas like Have You Considered Killing People Actually, and got him to eat one of the corrupted apples. This went predictably, making Solar an absolute powerhouse but in a way he couldn't control

it's at this point we get Solar's Halo, which is actually a magic restrictor. this keeps him from flipping the actual fuck out and turning into a full on beast from the corruption, but he can only produce pure magic while wearing it, not shape it into attacks. this is why he has the pins, which he essentially feeds his magic into like a battery to do what they're programmed to do, like pre-made attacks.

The star pin is a gift from Daybreak and can and will blind a bitch when used, as well as being able to grow for him to chuck at things like captain america's shield. the moon is a gift from Nightterror and allows him to step into and manipulate peoples dreams (he's more powerful in the dreamscape but also more vulnerable), and the sun, which is a gift from Daybreak and also his literal soul, emits a warm and protective light made to guide him to safety in times of need

you may note that Daydream's gift is more gentle and protective while the gifts from Daybreak and Nightterror seem incredibly combative. this is because they are

bonus fun fact, Solar is never seen without the black bodysuit he wears under his outfits. Ever. Not even while sleeping.

so yeah Solar has some fun trauma from being manipulated by his uncles into accepting a corruption that his six year old body couldn't handle, but he's still best buds with Daybreak and Nightterror so he blames all the symptoms of that on Daydream, who's much easier for him to villainize. Fun!

so yeah that's Solar's traumatic backstory. tune in next time for his traumatic frontstory

Daybreak, Daydream and Nightterror are by @andizoidart

#boba answers #boba talks #boba talks A LOT #lore #system lore #Solar's system #friend andi #utmv #Dream!Sans #Nightmare!Sans #tw manipulation #tw child abuse mention #Solar #Piper #Smidge #Indigo #Daybreak #Daydream #Nightterror

[sea-owl]

I know people usually put John x Francesca x Michael but have you considered Philip x Penelope x Eloise (Yes, this is my crack ship)!

Let’s reimagine season 1 where George arrives instead of Phillip and whisks Marina away before Penelope publishes her column. Colin finds out Penelope wrote to George and is hurt by her actions. They have a fight and Colin of course goes on his tour. Eloise meanwhile realizes she’s in love with Penelope.

Cue season two where Penelope finds out about Theo and Eloise and realizes she’s like Eloise’s but not wanting to out her friend in Whistledown or risk her getting caught for treason, she sends an anonymous letter to Anthony who cuts the relationship short. Eloise finds out and the two have their fight as Eloise discover her friend is also Whistledown and they part heartbroken.

Wanting to help her cousin, Marina hires her as the children’s nanny/governess where she then meets Phillip. A man so opposite of Colin yet he intrigues her. The two fall for one another but Penelope reveals her feelings for her best friend as well which Phillip is honestly okay with. Tragedy occurs towards the start of Penelope’s third season when Marina and George both die in a carriage accident. Not wanting his niece and nephew to be in the care of his father, Phillip asks Penelope to marry him and she agrees. The two spend the season raising the kids and settling in as a married couple.

The next year Portia forces them to go to London for Prudences wedding and Eloise is shocked to see Penelope not only back after vanishing but married as well!

The two friends reconcile and find their feelings are still there, however Eloise also feels attracted to Phillip as well making her feel guilty. Eventually the three figure things out and Eloise becomes their other spouse.

Eloise is seen as the children’s governess but the kids are aware of her being their other parent. Pen is the one to carry their children (Eloise is not going through childbirth).

Everyone but Colin has figured out the situation but are cool with it as Eloise is free to pursue her passions while also being with two people that love her. Still it takes a while for Eloise to let her family know. Until Violet says at tea one day while they are in town.

“Oh for goodness sake Eloise, invite your husband and wife to have Christmas with us. With Penelope starting to show, I imagine you’ll not want her out of your sight.”

Eloise gapes at her mother while Colin chokes on his food as Eloise then beams and hugs Violet.

Cue Christmas where Eloise is with the two people she loves most and their kids (though she feels guilty about how hurt Colin looks).

Hell yeah, Bridgerton crack ships! While not one of mine (I honestly only see penolise as friends.), I can see the attraction to this. Eloise and her two introverts.

Phillip is so passive and would be down, especially when his other spouses can entertain themselves while he's working in the greenhouse.

I know I wrote about this before but it'd so cute as like a gift Phillip creates ink for Penelope out of flowers, while Penelope uses that ink to write spicy poems to seduce her spouses.

Everyone thinks Eloise is the dominant one but lord help her when Phillip and Penelope decide to team up. It's the quiet ones you gotta watch out for.

#bridgerton #phillip × eloise x penelope

[little-bloodied-angel]

To an arrow of gold, to a green carnation

I was twelve. The frost of both a yearlong winter and my own numbness was thawing in reverse, the pale reddish gold tendrils of autumn creeping through the windows, better suited to my melancholy than spring.

I braved, for the first time in nearly a year, that year, iced-over and fraught with loss, the library my father had left behind. It had been the only space where we'd been equals, where he'd loved me in a way he could show and I could understand. He had left his books and records, or most of them, behind for me, but in equal measure left the cramped room so dreadfully empty of him that I had abandoned it too.

He wasn't watching me now; I could do as I wished, without the heavy weight of his knowing dark eyes and their expectations, even here. And so, I rifled through the forgotten volumes way at the back, the ones he didn't pay much attention to and I, eager to please, didn't either.

It fell into my hands quite by accident; I didn't see what I was doing, scrambling around blindly behind three other rows of books in the seemingly bottomless shelf.

Or, perhaps, it was simply destiny.

Dusty -even more than the rest of the room locked for a year, nobody interested in it but me, and I too pained to enter- clearly pretty much untouched. Father was never a fan of Wilde. But beautiful, cream-colored kid leather and gilded edges on the pages and embossment on the cover. Old; older than me, than my father, than the both of us together.

It had some of his short stories, some poems, and the novel. I'd heard of it, of course. Nobody who read as much as I did could entirely ignore its existence. Mother called it (called him) blasphemous, impudent, out of the corner of her mouth. Indecent, improper.

So I read it, of course.

I had merely meant to thumb through it, a story I thought I knew. A beautiful man, a cursed portrait. From the first lines it wrapped lithe fingers about my neck and kept me there, kneeling on the Persian rug that scraped my knees, unaware of the sting, of the ache in my back, of the ballet of dust-motes in the golden shafts of light. As close to holy as I'd been in so long. When I raised my eyes, dazed, my hand trembling on the last page, the sky was twilight-red through the window, and I felt that Time had both stretched and stopped for me; I felt as though I hadn't blinked since I'd opened Pandora's box and soaked the first taste of its honeyed-poison ink.

Reading it was like being slowly struck with an arrow to the heart. Chains I didn't know existed in my soul cracked with each word until they snapped and fell. The devotion painted in the page, the cruelty of beauty, the blade-sharp philosophies. Someone loved like I did, utterly and completely and at the cost of everything. Someone else laughed like I wished I could, and mocked every posturing of society from God on down. And a last someone was so hopelessly fascinating, I was as captivated as his doomed lovers.

There had been poison in that arrow. I devoured the rest, every short story and poem. It only further stoked my fever, left me thirstier the more I drank, as though I'd bitten into goblin fruits. I found old photographs, letters, biographies. I found the transcript of the trial, and raged like I had hardly thought myself capable of; I read De Profundis, and I wept like it was my own heart shattered and tossed aside by that foolish, careless, cruel boy, as fair without as he was monstrous within; head tilted back, I breathed in the pain I could understand so terribly, let it touch every fiber of my soul, and felt a thrumming in my chest that was not my own.

By Christmas it was irreversible, blood afire and soul consumed. Like a cursed, ailed queen in a fairytale I begged someone who, if he would never understand, would at least comply. Find me this book, in its original glory, with all the amputated pieces carelessly cut by his society and his time, give it to me or I shall die!

Soon the book was mine. That arrow of gold burned my heart further; the ague further consumed me, instead of abating. It was hopeless for me, now, and it was joy and not resignation that I felt. Father bought me the complete works, untranslated, not much later, on a trip to London, if only to spite my mother. It did, but I hardly noticed nor cared.

Each delicately crafted word of exquisite agony showed me who I was; and showed me I was not alone. Each syllable of joy or grief shattered the manacles I wore, freed the constraints on my spirit. He was my painful truth I could no longer deny, and he, too, evaporated the desire to deny it from my soul, left nothing but curling wisps of stream, when the flame of his passion extracted such surrender from the ice I had tried to shroud my heart with.

I loved wildly, freely, a bleeding heart gambling everything, like his. When I first saw her, I remembered his words; "I was in the presence of someone whose personality would dominate my art, my life, my very soul if I'd let it...!"

And I let it happen, of course, surrendered to the inevitable. That summer, at fourteen, cracked like china on that sun-warmed pavement, the acrid taste of blood filling my mouth, I thought of her blue eyes, and of Dorian's. I thought of the cruelty beauty masks. I thought I'd die for a forbidden love, and was content of it, even if I wished for the mercy of a knife below the ear, rather than the slow trickle that slid between my lips and the unbearable agony of each rattling breath.

At fifteen, I crouched on stone, dressed like a boy and not quite yet understanding why, even if it wouldn't be long -in a shirt and ascot and blazer, vanilla and and pale blue the first two garments, rich chocolate the jacket, colors he'd loved; light pearl gray trousers cut at the knee and hugging my thighs, like when he'd been in Magdalen, and started to become himself. I pulled my long hair back, and kissed the stone leaving a mark like dark blood, and wept and confessed, devotee once again after so long losing God, I have a sprig of violets wrapped around a green carnation in my heart. Nobody will silence me again, they won't do to me what was done to you; I will always love, freely, as deeply and as truly as you did, and my lips will kiss forbidden lips and hold a scream for the injustice done to those with our hearts; I will fight, and I will love, always love, because in the kinship of your spirit I found myself, because those words you thought would become a dark, forgotten smudge in history became my comfort and companion trapped in the hypocrisy of my guilded cage, murdered by the coward's kiss.

You gave me my strength, Oscar, and I won't stop fighting while I have a drop of blood in my veins.

I left my broken chains at that tomb. He'd been the mirror to show me who I was; by Henry's cruel mouth and sharpened teeth of wit he had ripped the wool from over my eyes. I had become; I had burst through my chrysalis and renounced my constraints.

I kept learning. I kept growing. I became myself and I became unafraid. Bloody but not beaten, I continue on the path I swore on that grave, to the first man to teach me love.

And it all started with Dorian Gray.

Happy birthday, Oscar. Thank you.

#me #personal #my writing #Oscar Wilde #dorian gray #the picture of dorian gray #homophobia tw #queer #nblm

[spastuetheobsessedphylosopher]

"Oh you're stalling on posting the new 'some thoughts' post because you have so many ideas to write about and it's kind of dizzying" no I'm not shut up

(While we're on that topic, I will end up separating that post into a few smaller ones bc. I cannot organize my mind otherwise)

ANYWAY. Been watching a bunch of GenLoss edits and I really like how people are connecting the storyline to the lyrics of the songs they use. I don't know how to edit so you're getting a tumblr post from me. Yay.

It's gonna be long. Sorry? Not really.

This song is a popular Spanish camp song about the Civil War. I couldn't find any clues of its origin (apart from the fact that it's most likely based on a real letter someone found), but it was incredibly popular in Spain in the 70s and 80s, and is still very well known to this day. It's mostly spread through summer camps (back in those years, mainly by the Boy Scouts), and that's how I learned it myself. Because of this, lyrics vary depending on who you ask. I'm using the most complete lyrics I could find, some of which I didn't even know existed until now. I will do my best to translate it, and then we can do some fun analysis!

Here we go:

Caminando por el bosque, (Walking through the forest,)

entre flores vi que había (between flowers I found)

una carta ensangrentada (a blood-stained letter)

de cuarenta años hacía. (dated forty years ago.)

Era de un paracaidista (It was from a paratrooper)

de la octava compañía (from the eighth troop)

que escribía a su mamá, (who was writing to his mom,)

y la carta así decía: (and the letter went as follows:)

"Madre anoche en las trincheras ("Mother, last night in the trenches)

entre el fuego y la metralla (between fire and shrapnel)

vi al enemigo correr; (I saw the enemy running;)

la noche estaba cerrada. (the night was dark.)

Apunté con mi fusil (I aimed with my gun)

y, al tiempo que disparaba, (and, as I was shooting,)

una luz iluminó (a light illuminated)

el rostro que yo mataba. (the face I was killing.)

Clavó su mirada en mí (They pinned their gaze on me)

con sus ojos ya vacíos. (with their already empty eyes.)

Madre, ¿sabe a quién maté? (Mother, ¿do you know who I killed?)

¿A qué soldado enemigo? (¿Which enemy soldier?)

Era mi amigo José, (It was my friend José,)

compañero de la escuela, (my school classmate,)

con quien tanto yo jugué (with whom I always played pretend)

a soldados y a trincheras. (as soldiers in trenches.)

Hoy el juego era verdad, (Today the game was real)

y a mi amigo ya le entierran. (and my friend is being buried.)

Madre, yo quiero morir, (Mother, I want to die,)

ya estoy harto de esta guerra. (I've had enough of this war.)

Y si te vuelvo a escribir, (And if I write to you again,)

tal vez sea desde el cielo, (it might be from the heavens,)

donde encontraré a José (where I will find José)

y jugaremos de nuevo. (and we will play again together.)

Dos claveles en el agua (Two carnations in the water)

no se pueden marchitar; (cannot wither;)

dos amigos que se quieren (two friends who love each other)

no se pueden olvidar. (cannot forget each other.)

Si mi sangre fuera tinta (If my blood was ink)

y mi corazón tintero, (and my heart an inkwell)

con la sangre de mis venas (with the blood in my veins)

escribiría 'Te quiero'." (I would write 'I love you'.")

I don't think I need to explain how much I love this song or why. There's so much to talk about here, and if my translations were understandable, then I'm sure you've caught onto a lot of it already, but let's begin!

The first stanza was the reason I thought of making this song analysis, as it speaks of finding this lost, old, bloody letter in the middle of the woods. Ranboo's first little clue into what GenLoss was going to be presented the idea of a box full of tapes being found in the middle of the forest. It was said the tapes looked new, but they still give the connotation of an older time period, and while the box wasn't necessarily bloody, the content of the tapes sure turned out to be!

There's not too much I need to point out in the second stanza, except for the fact that it tells us this letter was intended for the paratrooper's mother. This is brought up throughout the rest of the song, as the paratrooper continuously talks to her specifically in narrating these horrid events. Ranboo mentioned in his post-finale stream that the flashing of the mask during the death scene represented all of the memories GL!Ranboo had prior to the experiments being brought back. I imagine our hero thought of many things in this short period of time, but (specially based on how wholesome Ranboo's relationship with his mom seems to be) I think it probable that he mostly felt like he wanted to go home to his family. I think it's fair to assume that this was mixed with all of the guilt they had been carrying throughout the last episode. He wished to die for more than one reason, but one of those reasons was probably the fact that they couldn't face their family after committing all those atrocities even if they somehow found a way out. Because of this, I like to imagine in the context of GenLoss, the song exposes Ranboo's last thoughts before his death, all his memories having returned and him wishing more than anything to go home to his family, but feeling oppressed by his guilt, before they finally accept death as their fate.

Stanza number 3 and 4 reflect the whole situation with GL!Ranboo's vision being altered. In yesterday's stream, when asked about the mask's control, Ranboo explained (or at least this is how I understood it) that the mask wasn't really forcing any actions, just presenting a different reality so that our hero thought he was doing what was right. Stanza three reflects that, with it being a dark night full of disorienting noises where the soldier can only make out the faintest details of reality, and assumes he can see the enemy and consequently shoots, he is acting according to the reality presented to him, not the full truth. Stanza four represents shutting off the mask, shining a light on reality and making the soldier realize what he has done. In stanza number 5, the guilt pours in slowly.

Stanza number 6 has two main things I would like to point out. First of all, we never find out if this friend of the soldier's was supposed to be of the enemy's side or not. There are many ways to relate this with GenLoss. We could talk about blurred lines, or about not really figuring out who the enemy is supposed to be. I like the idea that it represents the fact that while, inside the game there's the hero and the villain, reality makes no distinction inside the cast. No matter who you decide José represents in this allegory, the fact is the same. Whatever role they play, the truth is they were all people GL!Ranboo was friends with in real life. Sides don't matter. Our decisions didn't either. The other thing I can draw a parallel with is that GenLoss originally presents itself as a video game, and playing video games with these other characters is what GL!Ranboo did before he was sucked into these experiments.

We continue developing this point in the seventh stanza. 'Today the game was real, and my friend is being buried'. Today, I wasn't just killing my friend on a video game, this isn't just any 'Game Over' screen. This is the truth, and their blood is on my hands. Once again we are circling back to GL!Ranboo's guilt. But the best lines are the ones that follow immediately (and the reason I thought about this song in the first place). 'Mother, I want to die, I've had enough of this war'. Our soldier, our hero, has given up fighting. The cruelty of his fate has sank so deep into them, they don't have another escape but death. And I want to point out as well that where our soldier was most likely to die in battle if he didn't commit suicide, GL!Ranboo would've eventually died in the show if we had chosen not to kill them. Their fate was almost completely inevitable.

The eighth stanza reinforces this death wish. To the soldier, death is seen as a way to go back to simpler times, and I think GL!Ranboo might've thought that as well. With all their past memories flashing before him seconds before death, maybe he thought the mercy of death would present itself in the shape of getting to see his friends again, with no threats looming over them this time.

Stanza number 9 is the hope that he will be forgiven. That, just like they protected him in the game, GL!Ranboo's friends will receive them with open arms when death comes for them. That throughout everything they went through, a part of them recognized Ranboo as a friend who was just as trapped as they were. Ranboo hopes that, even though he was responsible for their deaths, their blood won't be on his hands forever, and their bonds haven't been ruined completely.

And the last stanza represents the love he held for these people, and how they would sacrifice themselves for their friends in a heartbeat. He already did, for Charlie, killing himself and his chances of escaping in the process. Ranboo died for them, and it may be the one thing they don't regret, even though in the end it doesn't even matter.

Yeah, hope all that made sense and hope you feel the same pain I do. Love you byeee.

(The song is called 'Madre, anoche en las trincheras' for anyone who's curious)

#generation loss #generation loss spoilers #genloss spoilers #generation loss ranboo #spanish culture #death #suicide #this gets dark guys #ranboo #the social experiments

[kirstenonic05]

Ok so basically about that comment about the human flower. So that girl is in the visual novel game Your Turn To Die (you've probably heard me talk abt it before, definitely seen me post and reblog abt it I am going insane over it,) and she's called Kanna, and in one of the routes of the game she dies.

So because they're in a death game (self explanatory imo), all participants have these collars on them and they uh. They can do a lot of things! They act as a sort of way to keep anyone from stepping out of line, and in some cases can be used to kill people. One guy called Mishima got his head straight up burned off his body because it heated up to a ridiculous degree (what a unique way of beheading someone!) and they can also explode! Neat! Anyways when Kanna dies in the route she dies in, her collar plants these specific seeds in her that rapidly grow in her body and turn her into a human flower. It is extremely painful. Like. The game is done with drawn sprites and pixel art but god it was pretty horrifying to watch unfold. And if you thought that was bad she uh. She is also a lil twelve year old!

Anyways with that out of the way I'm curious abt that OC you mentioned :3

Oh damn! That's really morbid! D: That's something that would totally keep me up at night! Things like that, like parasites or anything to do with the insides of a person, I really can't deal with!

Sorry for the late reply, I had to gather all of my info on this OC XD His name is Bluebell and I made him with @dremyink06 as a part of an original story called The Bluebells Sound Death, or TBSD for short! (I sometimes call it the Bluebell Saga, since the sequel is called Sunflowers Spring Forth Day)

I'll put brief summary of it under the read more!

The Bluebells Sound Death is set in around the 80s probably, Ink and I haven't fully decided on the date.

The main character is Sun Fowler, who is from a wealthy family and lives in a mansion surrounded by a lush garden he looks after. He finds that his prized bluebells keep getting eaten, so he asks his mother, Rossette, what animals would eat bluebells. He soon finds out bluebells are poisonous and goes out to figure out what had been eating his bluebells.

He soon comes across a guy lying down in his bluebell field, hiding from him. They introduce themselves and he finds out Scilan Dumort, some random guy who lives next door, has been eating his bluebells as his late mother told him that it would heal him. By the fact that he wasn't dead yet, Sunflower believes him. and invites him over for a proper dinner.

They find out they go to the same school and become very good friends, along with a girl at school named Poppy. Both Poppy and Sun nickname Scilan, Bluebell, thanks to his love for eating bluebells.

Eventually, Sun learns that Bluebell has had a curse since birth thanks to his parents' knowledge of witchcraft. They died to the curse while Scilan has a few years to live. The bluebells act as a remedy and keep him from dying but he didn't even realise he had a curse. His mother had simply advised him to eat bluebells every day.

Not only was he just a weird person in general, but Bluebell was constantly bullied for being gay. Late in the story, he confessed to Sunflower, but Sunflower mistook the confession as a joke and got arrogant about it. Heartbroken, Bluebell took the lonely path home. But, he began coughing out flowers on the way and he soon falls. Sunflower ran after him to actually say that he loved him but found Bluebell dying in the bluebell garden. Sun mourned his death. As they say goodbye Bluebell tells Sun to feed him a bluebell but Sun refuses, thinking there would be a way to fix this. In the end, Bluebell eats it and passes soon after.

Luckily, Bluebell comes back later as a ghost thanks to their strong love. But, he is completely covered in bluebells thanks to where he died and from eating bluebells. But don't worry, they live happily together :D

The blue haired guy is him as a ghost in Miitopia with his friend from another original series! (And me in the top left and Ink's OC Morty in the top right XD)

This all started out as a Caejose Hanahaki RP that spiralled way out of control! I actually have the original version of the Hanahaki AU written out, but it was when Ink and I were new to the fandom so I'd like to rewrite it someday.

I also wrote a song for this series! Maybe I'll post it sometime? Who knows XD

But yeah! That's a quick summary of TBSD!

#bluebell my beloved #i remember writing a very descriptive death for bluebell #very sad #then i mistyped and wrote 'like a grap vine growing' instead of grape #and it totally wrecked the mood XD #thanks for asking abt tbsd fhgjgfh #tbsd #my ocs #answer box