#it is unknowable but it can be influenced with good intentions

[olivesdontbite]

I've been doing a lot of analysis on Good Omens recently so here's some things I've gathered from the scene in S1E5 where Crowley is talking to himself drunk in a bar after he believes Aziraphale had been killed. (This might not be new for everyone, this is also just my opinion and thoughts, I'm just having fun so take what I'm saying with a grain of salt lol) Before going into the quote and what each part means, I would like to specify that Neil Gaiman stated that Crowley isn't the most reliable narrator of his own fall. From this I am assuming that although most of what Crowley is saying aren't direct lies, but that he likely sugarcoated and holds back some information. Neil also stated that Crowley (before the fall) wasn't as innocent / good as he paints himself to be, and isn't nearly as evil as Heaven would like to imagine.

“I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then, oh look here, it's Lucifer and the guys. Food hadn’t been that good lately, didn’t have anything on for the rest of the afternoon. Next thing I’m doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulfur.”  

There are a few things that we can take out from this quote. 

“I never asked to be a demon.” This is the second time Crowley specified his intent with falling. He never wanted this, he never meant for this to happen. Although he doesn’t directly say that he feels it's undeserved, it is clear that he in some ways regrets his actions and that the intent of falling wasn’t there. 

“I was just minding my own business one day.” Here's what I believe is very clear sugarcoating on his behalf. He paints himself as innocent and unknowing of what would happen. Although it may be true to some extent that he didn’t realise it would lead to him and others falling. It would be wrong to assume that it wasn't also his own doing which caused him to join Lucifer and to join the rebellion and further, participate in the great war. 

“Look here, it’s Lucifer and the guys.” These are the people he blames for falling, the “wrong people” he hung around with so to say. (There was a theory at some point that Crowley was Lucifer and he was talking about himself in the third person but this has been debunked by Neil Gaiman who said that Lucifer turned into Satan.) In this way he is also somewhat sugarcoating (imo) because he makes it seem as if others dragged him into the rebellion and the war, while yes there may have been peer pressure and outside influences, Crowley is someone who makes his own decisions and doesn't just go along with something he doesn't agree with.

“Food hadn’t been that good lately, didn’t have anything on for the rest of the afternoon.” Another instance of Crowley sugarcoating what had happened, I personally find it hard to believe that just one random afternoon a large group of angels just on a whim decided to rebel and start a war, as well as that I find it hard to believe Crowley joined the rebellion and war because “the food hadn’t been that good lately”. There was definitely a more serious and substantial reason for the rebellion and why Crowley joined. His language here also plays it off as no big deal, while clearly, it is a big deal, he just has a hard time confronting that reality.

“Next thing I’m doing a million light year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulfur.” This line is very different from the others, as his tone also shifts slightly, you can clearly feel the hurt and pain of this memory. From this we also learn that when an Angel turns into a Demon, they fall into boiling sulfur. But clearly to Crowley, this is a very painful and traumatic memory, I just wanna give him a hug.

#good omens #crowley #good omens theory #good omens analysis #crowley good omens #anthony j crowley #crowleys fall #i want to give him a hug

[completeoveranalysis]

Hi Nick. If you don't mind, can you share a summary of what you think Ashura's overall goals were? I'm still sincerely confused. And we now have the "reasoning itself crumbling" thing. He saw and saved this child cursed by FWR... or foresaw. He always planned for Fai to kill him. Was the whole point really to break Fai's curse out of care/love? Or to prove he could? He clearly didn't consider Fai's empathy or emotions. It start out with good intent but then his reasoning crumbled? thank you

Hello Anon! I don't mind at all! I absolutely love talking about these topics more, so thank you for asking!

The Ashura Problem is such a fascinating scenario because I'm pretty sure CLAMP deliberately wrote it to be both misleading and illogical. If it doesn't make sense then CLAMP absolutely achieved their goal, but that doesn't make it any easier to puzzle out.

So! The options!

(With content warning for everything that happens in Seresu oh my goodness)

Option A) That Ashura was a terrible person.

This is the interpretation that most closely matches Fai's lived experience, especially during the Seresu arc.

This explanation focuses on the fact that Ashura manipulated and twisted Fai's entire life and psyche until he was a broken person who would not have survived his own storyline. Ashura used all of Fai's tragic circumstances to mould him into doing exactly what Ashura wanted; he used Fai's dead brother against him, he trapped Fai into making promises he could use against him, he used Fai's emotional wounds to manipulate him, he limited Fai's magic for his own ends and deleted his memories of it, he committed mass murder, he tried to hypnotise Fai directly, he tried to get Fai to kill Kurogane, and then he tried to kill the entire Tsubasa family - all to get Fai to kill Ashura. It's worth noting that all of these actions echo the narrative impact Evil Wolverine has on Fai as well, and we can clearly see how broken Fai is over all of these revelations, even aside from the fact that we are told that Fai would have killed himself if he had succeeded in granting Ashura's wish. It all points to a very solid verdict, and one that pretty much the entire story supports from the very beginning.

The only thing missing is his actual goal. Why is he trying to get Fai to kill him? Is it out of boredom? Is he immortal and can't die without external influence, and so wanted to manipulate events until he got what he wanted? Is he just doing it all for the hell out it, and sees a dramatic death as just another fun thing to aim for? Or...

Option B) Ashura did it all to save Fai

This is the interpretation that mostly comes to the fore when Ashura dies, having failed in his long game to get Fai to kill him by his own hand.

This option revolves around Ashura's otherwise missing motive. The strongest motive potential motive we have for his actions is that he was trying to break both of Fai's curses at once; to become stronger than Fai so that Fai would be forced to kill him, and in the process wouldn't trigger the second secret curse and save Fai's life in the process.

The thing that muddies this interpretation is how badly he treats Fai to make it happen. Over the course of his entire life he breaks Fai. All his actions are hurtful and twisted, and he is willing to murder as many people as needed to make this goal happen, including literally everyone else Fai values in his life. Nothing about the Fai that's left behind is left unmarred by tragedy and self loathing - but he would be alive! And that seems to be what Ashura was aiming for, in this line of reasoning.

This neat thing about this option is that it really plays into the darker characterisation that CLAMP like to work with. Ashura has his own set of morals, inhuman and unknowable, and so he's willing to cross lines that seem to defy all the rules of empathy that you'd think would apply here. DID Ashura think this was still an acceptable result? Did he commit to this goal with the willingness to break and murder literally anything he needed to in order to make it happen? It seems so! But can he really say he loved Fai if he was willing to do this to him? He could see the future, so how could he not see that his actions would kill Fai just as surely as the curse would?

So it's either that, or

Option C: A bit of both!

This is the option that Tomoyo presents in Nihon, after the fact.

Tomoyo posits that both options are true at the same time, and the reason why this doesn't make sense is because of Fei Wang's influence on the universe. Logic itself is breaking down, so Ashura's actions have lost any logical integrity somewhere along the way.

This option allows for the paradoxes to exist as a deliberate example of the wider affect the overall plot is having on the multiverse. Tomoyo says that yes, Ashura did love Fai and was trying to save him, and also yes, his actions don't reflect that and would have killed Fai through his abuse in the misguided attempt to save him.

At this point in the narrative I think it's option C that CLAMP are set on. It does seem like they deliberately wrote the scenario so that Options A and B don't internally make sense on their own on purpose, so that C can rise out of the ruins and cast a shadow on the rest of the narrative right before things really start to kick off in the main plotline.

I hope this helps! This is my ultimate understanding of Ashura's plotline as it stands, but if anything isn't clear feel free to let me know and I can talk even more.

#Ashura's crimes also include: #making me think more about Ashura #the worst fate of all! #Tsubasa #Long post #Seresu #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Liveblogging the catch up chronicle #Fai #Ashura #Tomoyo #Catch Up Seresu #Replies #Anon

[utilitycaster]

hi again - tbh i also wonder if a large part of the way certain folks are grokking the deities (prime & betrayer) is not influenced by the role artagan played in c2. jesters a cleric, and her god is revealed to be A Guy!! hes a little unknowable, a little amoral, and very powerful, sure! but hes also cool, and demonstrably capable of change, what with his fey morality softening a bit in the face of Caring for Jester. ofc zerxus can "fix" asmodeus, if A was even the real bad guy to begin with 1/2

the idea that the deities are fundamentally no different from mortal beings except for the scope of their capabilities/reserves of power is IRONICALLY just as rampant in fandom as it is in the magocracy of avalir (hi patia and laerryn talking about their motives behind planeshifting the city I SEE YOU), and thats GREAT in the show just as much as it makes me want to beat my head against the wall IRL lol 2/2

------

So like...here's the thing. I get questions like this sometimes that ask if the fandom's response to something is because of previous Critical Role campaigns and while that may be a point of reference for some people...usually, I'm talking about things that are common in fantasy or subgenres of fantasy at large (or sometimes like...speculative fiction at large, or genre fiction at large, or sometimes, terrifyingly, fiction in general).

The idea that there are gods and they are beyond mortal realms and there are ones that are good and ones that are evil is very standard. It's like, a thing the professor says on the first day of Fantasy 101 like "of course, we are aware that in many works, there are gods, who are understood to have powers beyond what mortals can do, and that they embody domains and cannot stray from their nature" because if you're in this class you are kind of expected to have picked up on this.

And to be clear if Critical Role is people's first foray into fantasy, or a specific type of fantasy, then that's okay - but in that case there's a lot of value, again, in understanding what is informing your thoughts and what you might be drawing into them if you don't have the groundwork in fantasy. For that matter...this question does presume people watched Campaign 2 yet somehow missed Caduceus, Fjord, and Yasha's relationships to their (Prime) deities entirely, since those are relationships far different than Jester's with Artagan; and it misses how, for example, Caduceus, cleric of a Prime Deity, related to Jester and Artagan with that reveal; and on some level the whole point of the arc with Artagan is that the duties of a god were a difficulty and a Prime Deity was in fact able to kick his ass without trying that hard.

So: I'm pretty sure that in a number of cases it really just is as simple as people saying "what if the Bad Guys were the Good Guys and the gods aren't that important actually because this would fulfill things I believe and want to see" without actually stopping and saying "hmmmmmmm the god of lies might be lying". Now, I think there's other tendencies mixed in there as well; notably the desire to be more right than other people which drives one towards unpopular opinions in the same way that people bet against the odds (sure, if you win, you win big, but chances are you go bankrupt first); and the desire to feel like Zerxus is doing the right thing (which just feels very ignorant of context and intent, ie, Zerxus himself feels like he's doing the right thing but, quite literally here, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions). But a lot of it does feel like people have a story they want to see and are going to insist it is happening until they no longer can.

#i should go to bed early and stop musing on human nature huh #critical role spoilers

[flipping-the-coin]

The Characters

The Last of the Angels, Optimus Prime

Origins:

Forged long before the mortal children of Primus, Optimus existed for what could have been an eternity within the embrace of his maker, nameless and pure without the pain of living tainting his divine nature. He could have and likely would have remained in that dormant state for all of time if not for the desperate pleas of the mortal children that walked upon Cybertron's surface.

The other Primes failed, those chosen by the Matrix not having enough experience or understanding to guide the children of Primus effectively. The Matrix was unable to form a perfect leader from lackluster material. Thus Alpha Trion took on the role that was required of him and he raised up a vessel so that Optimus might come into being within the living realm and fix the damage done.

Such it was that after millennia of careful planning, Orion Pax was offered up and Optimus, the last of the Primes awoke.

He came into being with the knowledge and memory of his host imbedded into his mind alongside the knowledge the Matrix had to give. However he was not granted peace or opportunity to develop for long. Orion Pax yet lived within him and Pax was a vicious host for the infant Prime. All throughout the war Optimus suffered the agony of Orion Pax's attacks to his very spark and could do nothing but endure in silence.

He gave his life to restore Cybertron, and in doing so returned the frame he had taken upon himself to its rightful owner. For vorns he remained in the loving embrace of his maker once more, however he has since returned, and chaos has come in his wake for both Cybertron as a whole and for those who knew him personally.

Traits:

Optimus was for all intents and purposes a blank slate before he was given to Orion Pax to house. Thus all of his personality traits have come directly from Orion. The Matrix has ensured that only the positive traits Orion possessed have transferred over, however a good thing in too large a proportion can swiftly become just as deadly as an inherently negative trait given enough time. As such Optimus walks a fine line between his nature as a divine being and his inherited mortal will.

Optimus prizes duty and order above all else, such is his nature as one of the divine. Often this presents in his blatant but unknowing disregard for anything that does not fall under his jurisdiction or takes lesser priority in the wake of a larger issue. However because of his dutifulness he will see to an issue even if it kills him and will stop at nothing to see order and justice made manifest. With that said, he is incredibly loving even if he is uncertain of how to show it.

Relationships:

Conjunx: None (desire for bond present)

Amica: None

Temporary Bonds: Ultra Magnus, Jazz, Prowl

Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: Bumblebee, Smokescreen (partial)

Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: Orion Pax (unwilling, strained), The Matrix (deep rooted, unbreakable)

The Corrupted Vessel, Orion Pax

Origins:

Plucked from the wilds of Kaon as a sparkling by Alpha Trion himself, Orion Pax spent his formative vorns under the strictly curated control of his Sire. Alpha Trion instilled into Orion the mannerisms and goals fitting the vessel of the Thirteenth Prime; a goal unbeknownst to Orion Pax, who was under the impression he was training to one day take his Sire's place as Head Archivist. Though his methods may have seemed cruel to outsiders, it served its purpose in crafting the perfect host for the upcoming arrival of the new Prime; one instilled with a strong sense of duty and a desire to see true justice granted.

The harshness of his upbringing instilled a fierce resentment and a desire for freedom deep in the Vessel's spark that lie buried and dormant until he came across the writing's of the Champion Gladiator, Megatronus. They began a correspondence that rapidly evolved into a strong friendship.

The Gladiator's influence rubbed off on Orion, encouraging him to be more selfish and possessive over his own wants. Emblazoned by the encouragement to act selfishly, Orion Pax made the first real choice of his life; to court and bond himself to Megatronus of Kaon, despite the discontent of Alpha Trion, who was forced to act once it became clear that Orion's intentions to permanently leave Iacon to take a side with the Gladiator's vision became undeniable.

Orion Pax was given to the Matrix despite his protests and as Optimus Prime was born Orion was shoved into the back seat of his own reconfigured frame. In near complete isolation he festered in madness as he fought desperately against his confinements to keep the Prime controlling him from killing the mech he loved.

After his liberation, Orion Pax had a long road to recovery from his millennia long confinement, but with the patient care of his Conjunx and the medical expertise of his once best friend, Ratchet, Orion recovers enough to continue his Archival work and have his 'happily ever after' with his lover. Until the rebirth of his biggest fear dashes vorns worth of progress in that arena, creating an unstable, irrational mess of a mech who just wants to be as far away from Optimus Prime as possible.

Traits:

Orion Pax has a deep sense of loyalty, duty and justice. He is ruthless when he sets his mind to a task that will help disenfranchised mechs. He is used to being the sole voice of dissent in a charged Council Hall and will not hold back against speaking what he thinks is right.

However he is incredibly selfish, often doing 'the right thing for the wrong reason.' He is obsessive in his relationship with Megatron and extremely distrustful of those who criticize him for his choice in his partner, and his extreme dislike of Optimus Prime is highly criticized.

Relationships:

Conjunx: Megatron

Amica: None

Temporary Bonds: None

Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: Bumblebee (one sided, strained), Optimus Prime (unwilling, strained)

Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: Alpha Trion (strained, deceased????)

The Catalyst of Change, Megatron

Origins:

Originally known only as D-16, Megatron spent his youth deep inside the mines of Cybertron, where he specialized in the backbreaking task of tunneling towards hidden ore deposits. His optic for detail was eventually noticed by his overseer and his tasks were soon shifted to sort slag from usable ores, monotonous work that gave him time to think. The slavery he and his fellow miners were forced into due to their frame typing was morally reprehensible, and he was going to do something about it.

While the murder of his overseer in a fit of justified rage had been unexpected and premature, it had been just the catalyst he had needed to begin his quest for change. He was sentenced to die for his crime in the Pits Arena of Kaon only to prove to be a capable and innovative fighter. He took the name Megatronus and soared to popularity as he rose to the rank of Champion and began ending his wins with politically charged speeches calling for freedom and self determination.

After his words moved the spark of Archivist Pax, he gained both a valuable asset in his movement and a partner worthy of giving his spark to. With Orion by his side and their movement rapidly gaining public support, they managed to secure a chance to speak their demands to the Council; a meeting which ended in disaster, ultimately resulting in Orion's capture. Feeling what he thought was his beloved's death he made a vow to destroy any who were responsible. There were few strong enough to oppose him in his quest for revenge until he came face to face with Optimus Prime who so obviously wore the frame of his Beloved Archivist.

The desecration of Orion's frame was an added stain on the establishment he now was openly at war with and repeated battles with the Prime did little to help the gladiator's mental state as the war dragged on, though his disgust towards Optimus Prime eventually grew into a rival's respect.

He still does not know why Optimus Prime spared him or gave Orion back to him, but he is grateful all the same for a second chance. His eye for political strife has once again urged him to begin writing as he notices cracks in the newly formed system.

Traits:

Megatron is blessed with strength, endurance and incredible observational skills. While no longer the leader of Decepticons in the post war era, he still is loyal to those he sees as 'his people': the downtrodden and oppressed. He writes often about the suffering of Iaconian citizens under their own government despite their hostilities towards him and together with Orion Pax, fights for the preservation of the various cultures the current Council is trying to obliterate. According to Orion, he is the best Conjunx in the universe.

He also is incredibly stubborn, prideful and holds a grudge like no other. He is wildly protective of Orion Pax and in many cases will not hesitate to use violent means to protect him. He has an intense hatred for the medic Ratchet that clouds his judgement whenever the medic is involved.

Relationships:

Conjunx: Orion Pax

Amica: Soundwave (MISSING)

Temporary Bonds: None

Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: None

Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: None

The Healer, Ratchet

His exact age and date of emergence are unknown, however it is common knowledge that Ratchet is ancient, coming from the days before the Quintessons had control of Cybertron. Very little data is available regarding what he did before he marched to Iacon, but he was recorded arriving in Iacon some time during the early days of Quintessons occupation on Cybertron's surface. He was then known to have fought bitterly in the intensely competitive education system until he managed to gain the attention of an older medic by the designation of Burnout.

He was a youngling by the time he came to train under Burnout and quickly proved himself a prodigy in the medical field. He excelled in his work and swiftly gained himself the title of one of the head medics operating at Iacon's central hospital. Through his efforts he also garnered the attention of Alpha Trion, soon after leading him to have chances to pursue higher education, and in turn come to the archives for research.

It was in the dark of the archives that he met Orion Pax and became fast friends through shared belief and drive. A wedge was driven between them as Orion began corresponding with the gladiator Megatronus, but they remained good friends up until the end of the golden age just before the war began. At that point, Orion disappeared without a trace, Megatron emerged enraged and ready for war, and one Optimus Prime made his appearance roughly a stellar cycle after Orion vanished.

Ratchet did not question much and served Optimus loyally, even bordering on fanatically through the war. After Optimus gave himself to the Well, he deteriorated and fell deep into a mix of depression and rage. He took up the position of Primal Steward to try and desperately preserve what little remained of Optimus and was left relieved beyond words when Optimus returned, if still quite a bit damaged emotionally.

Traits:

Ratchet is by any definition a genius in his chosen field. Renown for his skill in medicine and science, Ratchet has a mind capable of both great healing and destruction. He is not the most fit physically from vorns of smoking and drinking, but he still has the capacity to throw a decent punch and more than enough cunning to kill a mech quietly. If nothing else he possesses endurance matched only by the strongest and most resilient mecha.

He can be soft spoken and loving with those he cares about, but he holds grudges like no other. If he or his family are wronged, the perpetrator will suffer his wrath until their dying day. Stubborn beyond words, he will stop at nothing to preserve what he holds dear and to make a world that he feels is just and fair. To Optimus he is near incapable of true evil.

Relationships:

Conjunx: None (desire for bond present)

Amica: None

Temporary Bonds: None

Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: Bumblebee

Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: None (caretakers deceased)

The Centerpiece, Bumblebee

Bumblebee was forged during the height of the war and taken in by the Autobots after his original Caretakers were killed. The role of Sire was taken by Optimus Prime and that of a Nurturer by Ratchet. With little other choice, he trained as a soldier and scout as soon as he came of age and was proficient in his work. Known for his skill and keen optics, he was also a little too brave for his own good, leading him to lose his vocalizer to Megatron during the battle at Tyger Pax.

While his recovery was difficult, he managed to find a new way to communicate, using beeps and tones. This caused him to become fast friends with the young human, Raf and together they proved quite a menace to the growing Decepticon threat to the planet Earth. As the war raged on, and the situation grew more dire after Megatron's destruction of their base, Bumblebee took it upon himself to rally the team back together in order to put a stop to Megatron's plans to Cyberform the Earth, leading to a deadly confrontation resulting in Megatron's death at Bumblebee's servos.

It seemed a cruel joke that the end of the war brought the death of his Sire and the resurrection of the one mech who deserved it the least; Megatron. The copy left behind of his beloved sire was an added twist of the knife in the bitter wound Optimus left behind.

In the time since, Bumblebee has kept himself busy. He spent a significant amount of time acting as the Ambassador of Earth relations before deciding to move back home, where he has taken a job with law enforcement. He was ecstatic at the resurrection of his sire, hopeful that this means that Cybertron will finally become the home that Optimus had promised him as a sparkling.

Traits:

Having been raised by Optimus Prime and Ratchet, Bumblebee was instilled with a strong sense of loyalty. He knows what is right and what is wrong without having to be told and is strong-willed enough to trust his spark to guide him true, even if that means going against the wishes of his Sire and Nurturer.

He can be hot-headed and sometimes reacts without thinking of how his actions will affect others, especially when confronted with emotionally charged situations. He has a tendency to act first, think later that can sometimes make his actions appear questionable.

Relationships:

Conjunx: None Amica: None Temporary Bonds: None Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Orion Pax (unwilling, strained) Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: None

The Guardian, Smokescreen

Origin:

Forged during the height of the war, Smokescreen was drafted into the army as soon as he could walk. He served as a simple messenger until he was grown enough to receive proper training, at which point he joined up with what remained of the elite guard. There he learned not only the art of war, but also the essential skills needed to appropriately serve a Prime.

He served with the elite guard up until Iacon was attacked, which led to his unintended landing on Earth upon his capture and swift escape. On earth he was thrilled to serve under Optimus Prime, however he quickly learned that his Prime was not all he seemed. He was forced to watch and do next to nothing as Optimus suffered under what he claimed to be the Matrix. Eventually Smokescreen ignored the team's warnings and took to caring for Optimus as a good guardsman should. He even came to see the Prime as a Sire of sorts as they bonded slowly over the course of the final battles fought on Earth.

He tended to Optimus as his mental state deteriorated up until the Prime gave himself to the Well to restore Cybertron. After that he threw himself into his singular duty of being a guardsman. He collected recruits from amongst the faithful and dutifully raised them up in the manner he had been trained. He instilled into them the values of the guard and made sure they all knew who they served. By the time Optimus Prime returned to functionality, Smokescreen's efforts resulted in the expansion of the guard to a startling count in the hundreds.

Now he serves under Optimus happily, totally unconcerned with anything else in favor of fulfilling the function he was raised to complete. He usually does not care for the drama of others, however when it comes to Orion and Megatron, he hates both with a seething passion. He fully believes that they were not punished for their actions and that justice should be served, but he does not voice this.

Traits:

Smokescreen is loyal to the point of it blinding him. If Optimus gives a command, he will follow without question not only because Optimus is the closest he has to a Sire, but also because of his firm belief that the Prime would never do anything evil. He is energetic in his duties but rather lax and fun loving when off duty. He is a stern commander to his subordinates but a playful youngling with those he is close to.

He cares very little for the happenings involved in politics as long as he feels justice is being served. Unfortunately he does not have the best optic for corruption and is largely unaware of the dark deals that happen every cycle. However when he does notice, he stops at nothing to see it dealt with.

Relationships:

Conjunx: None

Amica: None

Temporary Bonds: None

Caretaker-Sparkling Bonds: None

Sparkling-Caretaker Bonds: Optimus Prime (partial)

#2s2actchrter2023vspecifictaglol

[jane-friend]

@jewishdragon Thank you for having interest in my OCs but also oh god what have you invoked HERE WE GO

The Big Four are Arneis, Lily, Banneson, and Epi. Arneis is the anthro goat and there’s enough art of her plastered everywhere on my blog(that and I still have to finish her reference sheet properly oops). She’s a small brash goat that playfully bullies everyone and has a troubled childhood that left her with a lot of broken friendships and difficulty forming new ones. And in the game I was working on with her in it she’s kinda a sort of unknowing conduit for deities to sneak their (often bad) influence into the world. So a lot of bad stuff happens around her and she beats herself up over tragedies she thinks she inadvertently accidentally caused when in actuality it’s otherworldly forces. She’s a vegetarian, a little dumb, extremely bi, extremely Italian, and loves to garden more than anything. Her favorite hobby is trying to grow plants from cuttings she takes from her work at a garden supply store, and her home is filled with little jars of these cuttings positioned at every window. Other than that she’s also kinda Basic Bitch interest-wise and absolutely whittles away hours doomscrolling on her phone and chasing shallow trends.

Lily(I did the art here :y ) is also from my game making escapades and is Arneis’ friend/tenuous partner? She’s shy and reserved, but also unnervingly grim and speaks of dark topics with familiarity. And, like, this backstory kinda happened??? because she was a Dreams Game Jam one-off character who wound up becoming a mainstay because I liked her so much so sorry for this, but LONG STORY SHORT she’s basically a lich who escaped a sort of purgatory in which she died and was reborn repeatedly in this mausoleum surrounded by seas of ichor. She was sent to this purgatory years ago after praying to any god that would hear her pleas to survive a life-threatening illness that left her weak and in a hospital for a majority of her life. What she was given though was a bouquet of Lillies and was told to place one on each tomb within the purgatory mausoleum before being able to leave, but having been brought to the mausoleum in the final stages of her illness, she was always too weak to finish the task and would die only to be brought back to the moment she entered the mausoleum. She escaped with Arneis’ help though, after Arneis also accidentally wound up in the mausoleum due to deity meddling, where she helped place flowers at each tomb allowing Lily to escape. However the escape wasn’t intended by whatever put her there, and now she exists as a sort of lich, her body being kept running by the forces that would resurrect her in the mausoleum. Her body is cold to the touch, she cannot age, nor can her condition fully recover, but she’s still “alive” and has newfound strength due to the forces within her borrowed from the mausoleum. And now her main goal in life is to experience all the things she couldn’t in a hospital bed, like eating fresh seasonal fruit and feeling rain on her fur.

Banneson and Epi(from left to right(Art also done by my friend Ash!(@ramblesofash))) are both members of a secret anarchist cult(in DnD it’s a cult that worships Leira) that seek to assassinate any political leaders their deity deems unjust in the name of eliminating the barrier between truth and lies and freeing people to live however they choose. Banneson and Epi are also very much not good guys. They operate within morally gray areas, and their cult’s intentions are unclear as to if they’ll do more harm than good, but nonetheless they carry out their missions.

I, uh, actually can’t talk about their backstories because they’re both in serious dnd campaigns at the moment and I don’t want to spoil anything. As for their personalities though, they’re both Massive Jerks. Banneson is snarky and snide and is often(and sometimes intentionally) grating to be around, but can also quickly turn things around and act flirty and demure to get what he wants. However, deep DEEP down is someone that is genuinely longing for meaningful bonds and wants to care for others and be genuinely liked, but he’s too deep in the game his cult is playing, and his real emotions are suffocated under layers of this jerky persona he’s built. And as for Epi, she’s extremely ditzy and often too blunt for tactile conversation. She operates off of pure instinct and impulse, and will only rarely pause for consideration on what course of action to choose next. However, when in danger or confronted with situations she’s alarmed by, she grows very serious and laser-focused, but struggles coming out of these moments emotionally. All she really wants out of life are friends she can truly feel close to, but it’s hard to understand her emotional state sometimes and baggage from past events leaves her hesitant to trust.

There’s also a few other OCs outside of the big four, but there a little less developed outside of the big four and also I don’t have art of them and ALSO I gotta go to bed for work so maybe later I’ll come back to this post and update it with more OCs and art of them! :D

#this is actually less intense than I thought huh #also only one I REALLY fully thoroughly explained was Lily but OH WELL

[anhilliator1]

To explain what that ... thing was is near impossible. In that strange world where nearly everything was shaped by the collective imaginations of the people who went there, that strange being seemingly came out of nowhere.

When the gateway to that strange world appeared five years ago, with the short time we had to pass through it, we couldn't have had any way of knowing what it was.

And yet, when it reappeared, five years later - somehow it appeared once more, but not as a thing of pure shadow - no, this time it had a form, although ever-changing.

It is because of this that we may finally understand what it was.

The Void is a strange, unknowable being. Its form is never set, appearing as a formless black mass, or perhaps as a strange demon. The form that remains foremost within my mind, however, is that of a shifting creature, bearing twin heads covered in eyes, atop a body seemingly formed from lightning itself.

As for just what it is - In a world formed from imagination, it should have been seen as an eventuality - for it is a being formed from the collective thoughts of every single last person that left their mark on that world. Every single dream, nightmare, errant tangent, everything, resulted in the amalgamation that we refer to as the Void.

It is then no wonder why it acted as it did five years ago - we saw it as a formless black mass that only served to consume everything around it, so that is what it became. When the world expanded and grew five years later, more people were able to come, more thoughts, more dreams, more nightmares - becoming what we know it as now.

The Void's intentions are unknowable, as is its behavior. It may be dormant at one moment, and unerringly hostile the next. It grows and consumes, and yet at times allows others near itself and defends them. It's powerful beyond measure, and yet it is not a god, nor is it a monster. It cannot be said to be wholly good, nor can it be said to be wholly evil - it simply is.

Perhaps it simply wants to observe us. Perhaps it means to help us, in its own twisted way that reflects our own desires. Perhaps it simply wishes to destroy all that exists in that world, influenced by our own dark thoughts.

Whatever its desires, though, one gets the feeling that we have not seen the last of it.

-----

Alright, with that out of the way, yes, I'm writing lore for r/place. Seems like a fun project, but don't expect much.

This time, I'm covering what is arguably one of the most iconic pieces of art of the 2022 canvas - the Void entity/void mother/void king/what-have-you.

I find it really cool and interesting, especially given that its formation and subsequent evolution is more or less completely spontaneous - no templates, no plan, no nothing. It just showed up out of nowhere and continued to be utter insanity for the time that r/place 2022 was up.

In a sense, I kinda see the void as this perfect little encapsulation of what r/place was all about.

by the way, if you ever feel like contributing your own pieces of lore to this silly little project of mine, the tag is r/place lore.

#The void #r/place #r/place void #r/place lore #writeblr

[smells-like-mettaton]

If your still taking ficlet requests, mayhaps 45 with soriel?

Settlers of Catan

Rating: G Word Count: 1106 Prompt: "under the influence" - I took a pretty different route with it, hope you still like it! Read on AO3: here

---

“No! Sans, don’t fall prey to her conniving influence!” Papyrus said as Sans prepared to trade his wheat card for one of Toriel’s brick cards.

“I’m just trying to build a road, bro.” Sans gestured to the edge of the Catan board, where his lonely blue settlement had nearly been cut off by Frisk’s orange ones. It didn’t help that Sans had built on a brick port, only for eights to never be rolled. He was gonna have to resort to loading the die at this rate.

“I have only as many points as you do, Papyrus,” Toriel said innocently. “If anyone is ‘conniving’ here, it is my child.”

Frisk grinned widely at that. Sans was pretty sure Toriel was letting Frisk win, but it was still sweet to see them having such a good time.

Even if he was going to come back and totally crush them.

“I still have a bad feeling about this,” Papyrus grumbled, peering suspiciously over the top of his cards.

“Welp, unless you’ve got a brick for me, I’ve gotta take her deal.”

“Fine, but I will be telling you I told you so!”

Sans shrugged and completed the trade, built his two roads, and passed the dice along to Toriel.

After rolling (a four) and collecting her resources (two ore), she began laying down combinations of cards in rapid succession.

“Woah.” Sans’s sockets widened. He needed to take Toriel to poker night—she’d had twice the amount of cards he’d thought she had. Having giant paws probably helped hide them, but he had no doubt it was intentional.

“Two cities,” she said with a hint of smugness. “You really should listen to your brother, Sans.”

“I told you so.” Papyrus sounded even more self-satisfied, despite the fact that she had completely surpassed his score with that move.

“Geez.” Sans shook his head while Toriel replaced two white settlements with cities. That would double the amount of ore she got every time a four was rolled.

Which was distinctly more often than it should be. Had someone else loaded the dice? If Toriel had gravity magic like him, he would’ve bet on it.

“I’ve got a long road ahead of me to catch up now,” he joked, though his eyelights searched for a weakness in her strategy. He sure wouldn’t be trading with her again anytime soon. Much as he adored her smug look, there was no room for sentimentality in Settlers of Catan.

“You wish you had a long road,” Frisk signed, then held up their Longest Road card, which they’d earned for connecting their settlements across the board.

“Hey, settle down. It’s road to rub it in.”

“Oh, stop complaining and grab your sheep!” Papyrus said. He’d already rolled a five, which did in fact earn Sans a sheep.

“Thanks for sheeping track for me.” Sans winked.

“Ugh!! Just for that, I’m using my knight on you!” Papyrus flipped over a hidden card that allowed him to block and steal one of Sans’s resources.

“You sure you don’t want to use it on Tori? She’s the one who’s kicking our pelvises.”

Papyrus squinted, his skull swiveling between Sans and Toriel. Toriel sat with her hands primly in her lap, her poker face revealing nothing.

Sans started to sweat. Would sibling rivalry win out over Papyrus’s own logic? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Nyeh… fine! Miss Toriel, I must steal from you! It is nothing personal, just the most rational move for a master puzzler such as myself!”

“Of course.” Toriel smiled, then help up her empty hands. “However, I spent the last of my resources on my last turn. I am afraid I have nothing to give you.”

Papyrus’s jaw dropped. “How did I… well, I can still block your dastardly ore mine! So! It is still a victory for the Great Papyrus! Nyeh heh heh!!”

Sans hadn’t noticed that Toriel was out of cards, either. He watched her closely from then on, making sure she wasn’t hiding any inside the thick sleeves of her sweater.

“See something you like?” Toriel’s voice was innocent, though her quick wink was anything but. Heat broke out across his face.

“Your wheat,” he said, flipping over a hidden monopoly card, which allowed him to take all of one type of resource. “Hand it over, swheaty.”

With a bark of laughter, she slid him two wheat cards. Papyrus grumbled and forked over his three wheat, and Frisk tossed a couple as well.

There was only one problem. Distracted by Toriel’s wink, Sans hadn’t examined his own cards closely enough. He couldn’t do anything with seven wheat. He’d meant to ask for brick.

(He blamed the fact that the wheat pun had been too good to pass up.)

Frisk’s presence stopped him from cursing under his breath, but he still glared a hole in his cards. If he traded in enough wheat…

He made a few inefficient exchanges of resources. By the end of it, he could at least build one settlement. It wasn’t much compared to Toriel’s empire or even Frisk’s transcontinental road, but it was something.

“That was rather anticlimactic,” Papyrus noted.

“The workings of my mind are unknowable,”Sans bluffed with a straight face. Then he passed Toriel the dice. “Just roll with it.”

Papyrus had been the one to organize the “Family Game Night,” but regret was etched into his expression.

“Next Family Game Night will be at the bowling alley,” he told Sans. “That way, I can roll you!”

Sans grinned. “Cool. I’m sure we’ll have a bowling ball.”

“UGH!!”

A few more anticlimactic turns passed before the dice returned to Sans. He rolled a seven, forcing him to move the blocking token off of Toriel’s ore factory.

That was fine. What were the odds that another four would—

Okay. Sans should definitely leave the betting to someone else for a while. Preferably Toriel, with the way her luck was running tonight.

Between her cities and ports, she was able to trade in enough ore to build several roads, taking the Longest Road away from Frisk.

“Betrayed by a mother! How cruel!” Papyrus gasped as Frisk glared at their mom.

“All is fair in love and Catan, is it not?” She smiled at them. “That is my tenth point. It has been a pleasure ‘owning’ you all.”

Frisk stuck out their tongue, and Papyrus groaned—though that was probably at her joke more than at the fact that he lost. Sans couldn’t bring himself to be mad, though. That look on Toriel’s face as all her cards fell into place…

Yeah, Sans was ‘owned,’ alright.

#fic tag #tali writes #soriel #prompt requests #safeutdr #ive been wanting to write a fic where the fam plays settlers of catan for a while now #i hope you dont mind squarefriend

[shotorozu]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦 ᥊ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you find yourself in a bar that you and your ex used to go to regularly. the local bartender calls your ex- shinsou hitoshi; thinking you guys are still together. 

𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀: angst to fluff (happy ending), sfw, pro hero au (aged up), drinking (alcohol mentions and intake) ex to lovers, minor todomomo (not the center of this fic) reader is in the top 5, some swearing. 

𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱: [Y/N = your name, L/N = last name, H/N = hero name, ] f! reader, quirk not mentioned. 

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: i also did this trope on ao3 with todomomo, so i better not see people think i plagiarized them because.. that’s literally me lol. also! i was very conflicted, bc i also wanted to do this with shouto but since I already have 2-3 fics in the making, i went with hitoshi (but let me know if you wanna see shouto’s version.) 

word count to be added when im not sleep deprived

　　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　　˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

You swivel down another shot down your throat, not caring of the burn in your nose, nor do you care about the smell of the alcohol. 

You’re never like this, this is not the best representation of yourself, no. This is not who you are as a person, and the way your former classmates look at you with concern when you chug down another shot shows how unusual this is to them.

“Take it easy..” Momo pats your back, and you exhale heavily, putting down the glass. Everyone is certain that you’ll obtain some serious hangover, almost to the point that you’d have to take the morning off to treat your hangover. They’re aware that you’re not this careless, since you're in the top 5 after all. 

But they let you be momentarily, but why you may ask?

Because this is your way of coping a breakup with your boyfriend of 3 and a half years, Shinsou Hitoshi. They’re aware on how hurt you really are, and to be real- they were the ones that asked you to come out with them tonight to distract you. 

“They’ve been going at it for a while, it’s almost concerning.” Tsuyu comments, as she tends to a slightly tipsy Mina, holding her so she doesn’t fall face first into the floor. 

The least they could do is let you be, while you're not totally blacked out.

The local bartender- Maki, looks at you with concern when you order another shot, yet they still give it to you (with the slightest hesitation) since you’re such a good friend to her. (Your rank makes you very respectable, it’s almost intimidating! but your casual friend ship with the bar tender says other wise.) 

But on the contrary, you'd know when you’ve reached the limit, and you’d probably know when they’d start refusing your requests of another shot. 

One by one, their friends depart from the table, either they were too drunk to even handle it so they were brought home, or something came up- everyone could agree that they all had some sort of worry towards their dear friend’s very out of character coping mechanism. 

“I have to go soon,” Momo sighs, when she receives a text from Todoroki- though it’s very obvious that she’s still very concerned for you, considering that she’s the only friend left. “Please take care of Y/N, Maki-san.” 

Maki nods at your black haired friend, and the creation hero looks at you one last time before leaving the bar. 

Lifting your head, your words are slurred as you request for another shot, which seems like the umpteenth time that you requested for a shot. The concerned bartender still attends to your needs, yet- she’s contemplating of calling someone if you ask for another. 

Likewise, you finish that shot in a moment, and you slump down on the table. Eyelids fluttering slowly as your laughter is filled with intoxication, your cheeks are warm from being inebriated from the intake of alcohol. 

You don’t notice how your concerned bartender dials up a number, requesting for them to pick your drunken state. 

     »»————-　➴　————-««

“Did you know the word bed is shaped like one?” 

It’s now past midnight, and you’re mouthing off about something random, the train of thought is endless (but it’s more like a shower thought ramble.) Your fists are deep into your hair- holding your head up so it doesn't hit the table, meanwhile Maki paces back and forth- still tending to other requests from the very few customers left. 

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, yeah.” They answer absentmindedly, “Man, I haven't seen you in nearly 4 months! it’s been a while. You knows how to hold your alcohol so frankly, this is the first time I’ve seen this side of you!” 

“Oh really?” You slur, continuing on to spout out purposeless words.

The bartender’s response is a total blur, words turning into background noises, and a part of you is lucky to still be conscious and still functioning (yet it's barely) 

“..But you hold it well for--” 

You’re also very lucky that you’re a little too under the influence to even register the name.

You didn't know you’d take this breakup with him harshly. The most you were expecting was just.. crying while eating ice cream. 

But no, it was an utter shit hole. 

The door busts open, and the bartender’s expression seems to brighten up “Ah, there you are!” 

You grumble, the bar’s lights causing your eyes to sting- and your head hurts too. You might need some aspirin later.. you close your eyes shut. The bartender is chatting with the unknown person, and frankly- you just wished you didn’t intoxicate yourself this much.

“Y/N,” 

The baritone voice is almost sufficient in sobering you up. Turning to the familiar voice, you see the tall figure, sporting bedraggled purple hair. 

It’s Shinsou Hitoshi. A reason why you’re in such a mess, coping with a breakup in the first place. 

You almost fall off your chair in sudden revelation to the appearance of your ex lover. It was almost like.. your drunken state was making you see things- a possible hallucination maybe? it has to be that. Maybe it’s the side effect of the growing headache?? What was in that shot?

“Ugh, I must be crazy,” You wipe your cheek from slob, your head throbbing from the growing headache. The weary purple head raises an eyebrow, and the bartender is confused by the sudden tension. It's abnormal, alright.

The reason why you broke up was because of his lack of self care. 

Again, it’s not like he was being a shithead and cheating on you, or being a total prick of a boyfriend and neglecting you, and it’s definitely not the other way around either. 

It was probably the opposite. He'd neglect himself for days on end, not caring about himself, and not caring about his own being. It was.. not what you wanted at all. 

You figured just because the both of you are rising up heroes, and also adults- he would’ve gotten a grip of not neglecting himself. 

But even habits like that don’t get old. 

“Hitoshi- seriously, when was the last time you’ve took a breather?” growing slightly irritated by Shinsou’s continuous neglect of his own self care, and also the fact that he’s clinging onto you 24/7. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugs, pinching your cheek. Heck, you should be glad he wants to be with you for the majority of the days. But you can’t tolerate him when he’s constantly complaining about being tired, although making little to no efforts in taking care of himself. Heck- his dark circles got even darker- how is that even possible?

“’Toshi, it really does. You can’t neglect self care.” Your brows furrow when he chooses to ignore your words. “You’re not listening to me.” 

“You should be glad that I want to spend time with you.” 

It stung. What the hell did he even mean by that..?? scoffing, and slightly offended, you reply “That’s not the main issue.” you cross your arms “We’ve talked about this before, remember?” You reason out, giving him the nice benefit of the doubt. You'd like to be civil here. 

He ignores you once more, and you can actually feel the irritation grow within you. “I don’t want to be the reason why you neglect yourself.” 

“I’m really not, okay?” He retorts back, “Why do you always have to bring up things that don't matter?” 

Aggitated, you snap back “Wh- we’re talking about you! Hitoshi, we’ve talked about this- and you said you’d work on it! do my words mean nothing to you?” Hitoshi’s gaze flickers up, only staring at you, as if it was his own way of judging you and your intent. 

And that’s how it erupted into a full fight, and into your eventual breakup. 

You didn’t know how expressing your genuine concern for him blended into him saying things he’d never mean in his entire life. He doesn’t stop you when you walk out, not saying a thing at all

There was no verbal breakup. It was just.. there. 

The unknowing bartender interrupts the nonverbal tension, “I thought you’d be a lot happier, y’know.” 

“We-”

“..’ll get going now, thanks again.” Before you know it, Hitoshi’s hooking your arm around his shoulders— as he walks to the door, leaving the very familiar bar.

It’s awkward, surely. You’re not sure why he was there, and you’re not so sure as to why he decided to come to your aid in the first place. If Maki called him, and he was requested to come to you in question, then he could’ve just..

“..sent someone else,” You mumble. You reek heavily of alcohol, and your skin is undeniably warm. Frankly, he doesn’t remember the last time you were like this— was it the first time you had a drink? it was years back at this point.

You’re pretty.

Beautiful,

That’s one thing that hasn’t change. Surely, what changed things was the fact that he said some.. horrible things— and refused to even listen to your concerns, which ultimately cause your breakup. His relationship status changed into some lonely and young hero, and his heart ached in different ways.

But you’re still very beautiful, to him.

Doesn’t matter if you’re all dolled up for a hero interview, or a mess on a off saturday. You’re still beautiful.

But now— he’s focused on your words, and he’s taken aback when you continue to speak, causing the both of you to stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You’ve coulda asked s-someone else to pick.. me up.” Your words are slurred, a normal side effect of being drunk. However, seeing your ex has surely sobered you up.

“That’s true,” Shinsou moves to continue walking, so you guys weren’t standing on the middle of the side walk on a cold early morning.

“What are you even doing at a bar at 1am?” He changes the subject, but you’re still caught on to your previous question. “You didn’t answer my question at all, meanie.” Her grip is firm, so there’s no way of budging it.

His laugh lacks humor, yet he feels obligated to answer her. Or else they’d be stuck on the sidewalk, due to her hero grip.

“It didn’t feel right,”

“Yeah sure.” You grumble, “Because you suddenly care.”

“I’ve always cared, Y/N.”

“Really?” You say, not really believing him anyway. “You seemed pretty sure with your words back then to care.” Despite being toxicated, your words have undertones of venom

“You may say that, but.. I’ve always cared.”

“Then why the hell did you say all of that back then, huh?” Overwhelmed by seeing your ex, who you still fucking loved by the way— tears grow at your eyes. “If you’re lying, stop it.” You say, literally not in the mood to be lied to right now.

You’re literally being carried by your ex, while intoxicated, while also having a throbbing headache.

“I’m not.” Hitoshi answers firmly. A certain edge grows in his throat, and he hates it.

“Yes you are,” Your voice is now wobbly, it’s really just a mix of your overwhelming emotion, as well as your drunken state. “You would’ve told me that weeks ago!”

You were always right, and he knows it. Ever since from the last moment you shared with him, your words were just.. nothing but the sheer truth. Yet, he’s only hurt you— because of his denial.

He knows you’re right, and he knows that he had his habits of neglecting his own care. Though that’s why he decided to change, that you were in fact- correct all this time.

And he was just an ass to even admit it.

“You’re right,” His fists crumple, grip tight as he fights his sudden urge to break. “You were always right. I’ve always cared, and you’ve always cared about me. Yet I was worried of changing, not being around you just so that I could take care of something that’s not really important-”

“But you are, Hitoshi,” You sob, nearly collapsing onto the ground— “You matter so much, yet you don’t even see it, and if I’m going to contribute to your destructive ways— then...”

“How could you? If you don’t care about my words, then do you care about yourself..?”

Shinsou sighs, bending down to meet your level— you’re gasping and sobbing into his chest, tears angrily running down your cheeks.

“I know, kitten, and I’m sorry.” Wiping your tears with his thumb, he speaks once more. “That’s why.. I’ve thought about what you’ve said, and I decided to take care of myself a bit more, I want you to know that.. I do care.”

You glance up at him, the city lights luminating his face— enough for you to see the adorning expression he’s sporting.

“..really?” You speak, in a nearly hush tone, again— you’re still very drunk, and overwhelmed with emotions. This could’ve been passed off as a fever dream, and you could’ve been normal with it.

“Yes, Y/N.” His mouth perks up into a small smile.

“Then.. would you allow me to start over with you again?”

Pushing against Hitoshi, you envelope him with your arms— it’s almost cliché and dramatic, the way you collapse into his arms like it’s the last day on earth.

But.. Shinsou’s glad he has you again. Finally a chance to prove that he’s changed.

ーーーーーーー

BONUS

You sit on the counter of your apartment, hands covering your face— as a way to shield your eyes from the prodding sunlight that peaks from the windows.

“This should help,” Hitoshi hands you a cool glass of water, “The way you hold your alcohol is terrible,” You chug down the glass of water, and you take a jab at him with your feet.

He hisses at the sudden attack, and only chuckles, “You’re mad because it’s true kitten,” He teases

“Shut up,” You draw him in with your leg, setting the glass down, “Just kiss me already,”

And so he does, pressing your lips against his— savoring the sweet warm moment he’s been practically starved of for nearly 4 months.

He pulls back, his expression showcasing that he’s tasting the aftermath.

“Ew, you taste like beer.”

You glare at him, and take another light jab, “Of course I do, Idiot.”

Despite saying all of that, he pulls you in once more.

　　　　　　　˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading (literally the first fic i’ve ever posted, so y’all BETTER like it or i’ll 💀)

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing

do not plagiarize my work :)) (literally don’t, it’s 3:26am on a tuesday.)

#shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha fluff #shinsou imagines #shinsou hitoshi fanfiction #shinsou hitoshi x you #shinsou hitoshi x y/n #bnha angst #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha x you #mha x y/n #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou bnha #shinsou hitoshi #istg if this flops #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #if this flops i’ll actually cry #shinsou hitoshi x reader

[d1scwars]

even just casually enjoying dream as a cc is so frustrating and exhausting because on his own part, he can be... defensive and over-explain his side and double down on things and i think that even 20 million subs later, he still doesnt really REALIZE the scope of influence he carries. but as someone who DOES intake his content and "knows him" as much as one can begin to know an online personality, its really easy to see that he really is trying. to me, dream is someone who is trying to be a good person and doesn't get it right the first time most of the time. there's a lot of things I do like about dream, despite it all and its why even though theres a lot of really valid critiques of the things he does that i often agree with, i still will say that yes, I do like dream.

because equally as exhausting is seeing takes on the other side like this

obviously people who at best are indifferent to dream and at worst already hate him arent going to spend the time hearing his side of things. but it's so frustrating because they assume malice on his part. like that last point, "mc guy tries to convince his teen audience that meds are evil" implies intent. the medication thing in mask really rubbed me the wrong way personally, but in no WAY do I assume that was his intention. he was wrong because it feeds into the narrative of medication changing you and being bad but i think as usual hes so focused on defending Himself and getting His perspective out there and generally being straight up unknowing about most things outside of his own lived experience (frustrating but not everyone has or takes the time to engage in discourse for fun and i cant fault him for not knowing things that have a lot of nuance). But to imply that he is actively TRYING to CONVINCE his TEEN audience that MEDICATION is BAD is suuuchh a gross mischaracterization. no wonder his fans will flock to posts like these and try to defend him! im even typing up this whole thing because its honestly upsetting seeing shit like this lol! but unfortunately they're so young and DO baby him and dont know how to have nuanced conversations about things and then just end up making dream look worse.

god even the trump thing- i had friends who were watching Hasan's stream that dream was on, watched the bit where dream said "yes I did think trump was funny but i didnt know anything about anything and even if I did loosely support him back then, i definitely don't now" and then come to our discord channel and say "Wow so turns out Dream is a whole trumpie" ! /! /?! /! /? /? :! /!! //

like. adhd/rsd notwithstanding is it ANY surprise that dream gets so defensive over anything people say about him. i honestly don't know if I would handle it much better.

and that's why all this is SO frustrating. dream consistently puts himself in Situations because he is, honestly, unwordly and naive, hes overly defensive and he doesn't know when to log off and stop talking. his fans really do baby him and white knight SO hard for him, make way way too many excuses for him. people outside the fandom assume the straight up worst out of him and will shit talk him for days on end for just breathing wrong.

#dream hate #dream negative #dream drama #twitter drama #anytime dream does anything i feel a migraine coming on and its EVERYONES fault #I know he wanted to stream more for pride month but ive been begging him for weeks now to just Log Off take some time away from the internet #take a summer vacay or something sheesh

[jackdaw-kraai]

What will the stance on the Jedi be in the Guides? Just want to know for non spoiler reasons, as I really like the Jedi and I've found their philosophy helpful, and I've had some less than fun experinces in the past with fics that started out good and then descended into Here's Why The Jedi Were Absolutely Wrong. (You've stated Fialleril as one of your influences and while I enjoyed their writing their take on the jedi is a nope for me so just checking so I can brace myself if neccesary)

*hisses through teeth* Aiee, that’s a rough one, dear, and messy too, but I’ll try to answer as best as I can. 

Thing is, I love the Jedi. I do! They’re funky little space monks, and I think they had a good thing going with their whole shtick. However, when I say that I am designated the “Anakin” of my friend group, that’s... not just for fun. I am, at heart, a very angry person. Stubborn and passionate as well. I know I may not always seem like it, but it’s the truth. I have quite a lot of negative experiences in my past as well that make deeply sensitive to the things the Jedi did do wrong, even unintentionally and with the best of intentions, like the manner in which they treated Anakin when they were his guardians. 

I’ll be honest, and admit that the way of learning how to embrace my anger and pain without drowning in it is an ongoing process still to this day, but that process led me down a wildly different path of healing than what the Jedi would encourage if they were real, and that path subsequently shaped my view on emotions as well as attachments and flaws in ourselves as people.

All this together makes writing the Jedi, even just in a less AU setting, a balancing act for me, as I constantly have to feed the part of me that truly loves them and their way of life so that the part of me that’s still deeply hurt and angry at my own experiences doesn’t talk over it all the time. I know that the way the Jedi deal with emotions is subjective in how positive it is viewed and in all honesty, a beautiful thing for many people that helps them, as well as based on various aspects of Buddhism and Hinduism. I know that. But the part of me that has had to fight and bleed and hurt to reach the place where I mentally and physically am right now doesn’t understand that.

All of this, mind you, isn’t even factoring in the way I completely rewrote how the Force and adjacent shenanigans work in the Guides for the sake of the plot. 

The Jedi, in the Guides, aren’t the guardians of the balance in the cosmos any more than the Children or any other religious group is. They’re extraordinary and an ancient as well as fascinating culture, but they’re not the “end all, be all” if you get what I mean. In the Guides, they’re a religious order, not the religious order. Then there is the fact that, due to the way the Force, the Dark, and the Light work here in the Guides, while they have a lot of deep and intimate knowledge on the Light, they know next to nothing of what the rest of the Force and all things not-Force are, and often wildly mischaracterize them (not unjustifiably, mind you. They have ever reason to think the Dark dangerous with how the Sith wield it). 

Add to that that in Vader’s particular case they were just... flat out wrong in how they handled him and you get a religious order of... well, people. Flawed, limited people, who nonetheless tried and tried and tried to do their best. Flawed, limited people who deserved better than what fate had in store for them and to be swept up into a war and then tragically cut down in a monstrous genocide. 

The Jedi, in the Guides, will be people. Not grand, unknowable wizards, Not all-knowing, ever-benevolent guardians of the peace who are infallible. But... simply people, who made mistakes, sometimes grave ones, but who nonetheless deserved so much better than what was dealt to them, and who should be able to practice their culture and religion in peace. Who should not and will not be shamed or changed in how they interpret life and their way of living, but who nonetheless loved their culture and code to the point that it... may have blinded them to how it wasn’t the best suited for everyone. 

And they will be viewed through the eyes of equally flawed people with wildly different ideas and philosophies on life and living, but who may, eventually, be able to strike a bridge between their world and others.

Or at least, that’s the intent. In the end, the most unreliable narrator is always the author themselves, and while I will try to keep my own personal biases and prejudices in check and have people reading along with my writing and plotting who have a far less complicated love for the Jedi than I do... fact remains that I am a single human being. And I may fail in my intent, no matter how hard I try, simply due to my own issues.

So, all in all, the Jedi will be attempted to be represented as flawed, sometimes deeply so, but truly good people, with a deep, rich, and fascinating history. Nonetheless, the actions they committed (e.g. the whole “planning of patricide through the twins” plan) will have consequences, just like Vader, Luke, and everyone else’s actions will. Consequences that may not be pleasant, but that are necessary for them to be able to move on, and shift their focus to reestablishing themselves as a people. 

Does this answer your question, dear?

#The Guides Verse #ask

[babi-correia]

You’re My Sunshine

From Anon:

Hey girl! Would you mind doing another Jay Halstead pr maybe Jesse Lee Soffer imagine/one shot*? Maybe being the hidden girlfriend? Thanks hun!

Words: 2147 Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, canonical violence Pairing: Jay Halstead x Officer!Reader A/N: This ask has two viable one shots, actually. I did this one now, but I’ll probably pick up the JLS sometime in the future. Hope you like it, hun!

Deep down, both of you knew this day would come. The day when Voight barked out to bring a uniform up for an undercover stint, and the Intelligence member brought you up. 

Jay tries to interfere and go with Adam as he goes to get one of the officers down at the lobby, but Voight quickly shuts him down, remembering him that Adam knew the suspect's type better than Jay. His jaw clenches and his hands close into fists as Adam goes down the stairs, already knowing you are going to be the one he brings up. 

The two of you have been dating for a few months, and Jay liked having you to himself. By hiding your relationship, not only are the two of you not in the public eye for dating each other - the last thing you need is someone calling you a badge bunny and saying you're sleeping with Jay to climb the hierarchy - but you are also out of the line of immediate danger that comes with dating a law enforcement agent, inevitably becoming a target.

At first, Jay wasn't very keen on the idea of you: a new cop with shiny eyes and hope in the world; he knew you would be shattered by the job, and he didn't want to watch it. But then he started warming up to you. He couldn't pin down what you had done exactly, if it was how you refused to drop your kindness with Platt, or how you could offer an input that he hadn't seen, or how you would charge in, gun in hand with unwavering intent when someone's life was at risk... it was probably how you didn't try to take pity in him or treat him like a baby when you saw him having a particularly nasty flashback that made him freeze in the middle of the locker room. You had just grabbed his hands in yours and gently coaxed him out, giving him the visual help of the "Chicago Police Department" badge on your vest - you would never know how much it meant to him. 

He had seen your determination falter over the time, but he always tried to make you get back up on the positivity horse; secretly, it kept him going too, the idea that someone could see so much good in the world and still believe in the best possible outcome. It was something rare and precious, in your line of work. 

So, when Adam comes back to the bullpen with you in tow, Jay feels like punching him. He feels like going out on a solo manhunt and face the consequences of it, if it means that you won't be brought into this case. But he watches you walk into Voight's office and nod after the Sergeant explains what he called you up for. He knows that you would never refuse the opportunity to help other people - that's why you had become an officer in the first place.

He sits in his chair, resigned, as he watches you and Voight leave the office. 

"So, officer (Y/L/N) will go undercover as an immigrant that needs help getting the rest of her family inside, no matter the cost." Voight says, pointing at the board. The pictures of 7 women are pinned in, their faces stuck in an eery, eternal smile, unknowing of the atrocities that committed against them. All they wanted was to give their families a better life.

Jay meets you in the locker room after he makes sure that no one saw the two of you entering, and crosses his arms. 

"There's no chance I'm talking you out of this, is there?" He asks, his voice small and defeated. You turn back, already wearing your civilian clothes, and give him a reassuring smile as you lay your hands atop his forearms. 

"I'm a good cop, and this will be over quickly." You say, lightly rubbing his arms. "It has to be done, they can't keep killing these women."

"What if something happens?" He asks, his brows furrowed - you don't quite grasp the seriousness and danger of this, and it worries him deeply. "It's more dangerous than you think."

"Jay... I've been a cop in Chicago for a while. A beat cop. I'm cussed at and thrown things at for existing. There, I'm going to be a girl that they're going to underestimate. The only way this can go wrong is if they figure out I'm a cop, and that's a risk every undercover takes, and that you have also taken several times." You grab his face. "It's going to be ok."

-

Unintentionally, you had jinxed yourself in your conversation with Jay. Not in a thousand years would you have thought that the measly drug dealer you arrested a couple weeks ago would be involved with a human trafficking ring, and when he saw you, you knew it was over. He shouted to everyone how you were a "pig", how you were there to arrest them all. You had stood your ground, unwavering, claiming you had never seen him before in your life and had no idea what he was blabbering about, but no one bought it. They ganged up on you and you knew that resistance was futile and would only hurt you further.

And now, 3 days later, here you are. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, laying on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere by the river, in between torture sessions. The big boss doesn't know who you work for - all he knows is that you're with law enforcement. He's too paranoid and knows that CPD isn't the only one after him, and even though he knows you're CPD, he has no idea if you're working directly for them or if you've been "scouted" by a bigger agency. 

Your mind rarely leaves your memories of Jay, trying to isolate and disassociate yourself from the prodding metal and angry fists connecting with the several different parts of your body. A small part of you hangs on to hope that Jay and the rest of Intelligence are coming for you, but the bigger part tells you that they either won't make it in time, or that they think you're already dead. 

The footsteps in the hallway drag you out of your thoughts and you raise bloodshot eyes to glare at the grunt in front of you. He hastily pulls you up by one arm and drags you into another room, different from the one you had been beaten in. There's a hook hanging from the ceiling, but there's also a chair and some blades arranged neatly by the chair. The thing that jumps at you is the camera standing in the corner of the room, hooked to a computer, and aimed at the hook and chair. The grunt stands with you by the door as the boss walks into the room, walking with his usual swagger towards the camera.

"Since I don't know who my little toy is working for, here's what is going on: to whom it may concern, this bitch is at my mercy, and either her employer comes forward, or I'm going to kill her." He says darkly as the grunt drags you into further inside, near the hook. 

You put on your best brave face as he hangs you in the hook by the bindings on your wrists. Your shoulders scream at you but you refuse to show pain. The boss sits on the chair next to you and the grunt leaves, making it just the two of you in the room. He grabs a small, yet sharp blade from the assortment and turns to you, smirking darkly. 

"So, I'll ask you again. Who are you working for?" 

"Your mom." You spit at him, biting your tongue to not cry out when the blade cuts across the skin in your stomach.

-

The mug in Jay's hand hits the floor the second he sees the screen of his computer taken over by a video of a dark, grimy room, with you hanging from a hook and a slimy-looking guy in a suit passing around you with a large blade in hand. 

He knew to fear something bad when they stopped getting the daily debriefs from you, but part of him had been influenced by you into thinking it was the best-case scenario: maybe you had gone deep to the point of not being able to contact them, but were about to resurface with enough evidence to nail every single interferent in the trafficking ring. He feels his heart sink to his stomach and his legs threaten to give out as his gaze fixates on the screen. Your face is bloody and bruised, along with the rest of your body, but your expression is one of stubbornness; whatever the guy is asking of you, you're not complying. 

"This would all be over much quicker if you told me who you're working for." The guy snarks, and your expression remains unchanging.

"We both know you're going to kill me either way, just get it over with. Besides, I already told you I'm working for your mom." His fist connects with your ribs and you give out a pained chuckle. Jay's fists close up as anger begins to boil and cloud his head. "Or maybe for Brutus over there. Maybe you're his Ceasar, and he's waiting for the right chance to stab you in the back thirty times. Now seems like a good time, Brutus."

Voight bolts out of his office, vest on one hand, and a post-it note on the other. 

"A contact of mine got me an address. Let's role." He barks out sternly. Jay bolts out behind him and the whole team gets in the armory, putting on their vests and grabbing their choice of weapon before getting into the cars and driving towards the address Voight's contact had given him. 

Jay checks his three guns yet again: one Glock 19 in his hip holster, one Glock 17 in his thigh holster, and an AK-47 in his hand. He knows every moment from breach is going to count, and the longer they take to get to you, the worse the outcome can be. 

The car comes to a stop and he turns off the security in the AK, rolling his shoulders as he steps out of the car and stealths towards one of the entrances. He peeks through a window, seeing two grunts. He gestures what he saw towards the rest of the team and prepares for breach, kicking in the door when Voight says so. 

He feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins and doesn't stop until he's passed the guarded area. The hallways are silent and he strains his ears, trying to pick up something, anything that will guide him to you. 

In the room, you're still dangling from the ceiling when the loud noises snap the guy from yet another monologue about how it would be easier for you to just give up and blah blah blah. Honestly, you had started to tune out the moment he opened his mouth, already knowing some variation of what was about to leave his lips.

"Go check out whatever that was!" He barks at the grunt, making you focus on the door as the other man exits through it. Before you realize what's happening, a shot rings out and the grunt falls back into the room, making the boss jump in fright. You see Jay slowly stepping over the body, AK steadily trained on the suited guy standing by your legs. 

"If you move another inch, I'm blowing your brains out." Jay growls out as the other man tries to reach for the gun on the chair. "My finger is feeling very, very trigger-happy, and I just need you to give me a reason to give it what it wants."

You feel tears prickling at your eyes, both of joy and of pent up frustration and fear, flinching when you see the man moving towards his gun and Jay delivering a clean shot to his chest, dropping him to the floor instantly. 

The AK hits the floor with a clatter before Jay rushes to you, unhooking you and lowering you to the floor before wrapping you in a bear hug. You feel yourself starting to sob as you hide your face on his neck, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped by Jay and his scent surrounding you. 

"I would die happy if I died like this." You mutter into his neck, feeling him chuckle as he pulls away.

"You're not dying anytime soon, I'll waltz in and save you every time." Jay says, retrieving his AK and slinging it over his chest before he picks you up. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me."

#One Chicago #one chicago imagines #one chicago fanfictions #one chicago imagine #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago fanfic #one Chicago fic #one chicago fics #one chicago fanfics #Chicago PD #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fic #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd fanfictions #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfics #chicago pd fics #jay halstead x reader #adam ruzek #jay halstead #hank voight #officer!reader #reader #reader insert #Female reader #cop!reader

[thelastyetfabolousmidwestmadman]

That One Fanfic Idea I Had That Was Too Fucked Up For Me

So picture this.

Your watching Highschool DXD with your mother. It’s weird I know but my mom has done much more disgusting stuff so it seems rather normal in comparison... 

No? You Don’t want to picture it?

Kay, now stop picturing it, cause you’re either squicked out or have issues so imagine just watching alone, with a friend, or if good fortune strikes you the best girlfriend/Boyfriend ever.

But lets talk about YOU.

You are a lonely depressed coed, who straight out of high school suffered one of the most painful experiences of your life. The one you love the most just broke up with you for reasons you don’t understand or can comprehend at the time. 

For brevity’s sake I won’t tell the cause of what happened between me and my ex. I think some things should remain private and everyday I’m regretful for how I acted and wish that things could have gone differently. That is the past now and it should only be revisited to show how much you changed for the better.

You present yourself a mask of happiness when in reality you are in so much pain you are genuinely considering suicide but in a attempt to keep your mind off the pain, you listen to music that you never liked before because what you loved reminds you of them, and most importantly you watch shows that you previously had no interest in due to a desperate attempt to feel something, anything.

Its been nearly four years since that happened and some things are better but the scars still bleed deeply in the sides of my cerebrum. Today while I still have many issues and I wont pretend to have them together, but with the passing of time wounds become less salted and eventually will heal. Parts of myself I lost I’ve regained and that has made me proud but in other ways my trauma made myself break in two more then shatter. I may never be the same again but that doesn’t mean I could be something new or better.

Some of you might me wondering, “Why Madman, why are you talking about this now.” Well if there is one positive thing I can say about what happened is that it made ma a better writer. I now take my time, and don’t stress out about due dates. Since I experience one of the worst experiences of my life, I could greater write and understand the pain, sadness, and fears the characters I adapted experienced. I guess talent increases through suffering and struggle. I guess the best I can say was before I wrote like a child who hears a song and only focuses on the feelings in their simplistic form while now the adult who has life experience and sense the greater meaning.

But even now I still have so much to learn, and improve from! Sometimes I look at both my ongoing and old work with a equal measure of fondness and disappointment knowing what I know now. Even after the tragedy, I wrote in stasis for a while and works like Goodbye Innocence could have started less like a soup opera and be better for it. But suddenly I had a ephinany. I couldn’t allow myself to keep my writing at this level with the lackadaisical attitude I had before. I had to try harder! And that meant  updating less and taking my time to get back in touch in why I loved writing so.

Then it hit me. The childish magic and wonder I got from writing hasn’t left me at all, even at my lowest most pathetic moments. There are people better then me and instead of repeatedly getting down on myself, I accepted my limitations and regained my enthusiasm that I thought lost. 

But briefly over a period of twenty months my mind sorta went to a dark, bitter place and I sorta gave in into nihilism and despair. I kept thinking about Deconstructionism in general and what it could be applied. As you could guess, my mind landed on one show in particular.

So I kept stretching out my mind, in a rather feverish pace, thinking about how could I turn Highschool DXD dark? I mean the show is literally nothing but fanservice and tame ultraviolence how can anyone possibly make that edgy? Even without Funimation’s help the show is so ludicrous how could anyone take a dark fic seriously?

Well... Unfortunately for my sins, I came up with one.

I thought about Issei when I got to the Diadora Asteroth part. I thought about how hypocritical he could be at times considering how he tried to influence Gasper into stopping time in order to fondle unknowing women, which is pretty much beyond comedic anime perversion and more Diadora levels of sexual predation. 

Granted, I’ve long since learned that if you spend all the time thinking about the unfortunate implications of jokes, plotlines, and character arcs, particularly in politically astute context like myself, you’re quickly drive yourself crazy and be unable to enjoy any work of fiction ever. There are some that are admittedly more egregious than others but author’s intent, values dissonance/resonance, and alternative implications are important to examine as well. Life is too short to turn into a zealot and their are other social-economic problems that require requisitely radical solutions like Medicare For All, Reparations, BDS, etc that are more important to focus on then minor shit like this but anyway why the fuck am I rambling, you didn’t read this far to hear me pontificate on politics, back to the point.

TRIGGER WARNING from this point onwards

So the idea goes like this. The girls of Rias’s harem fall in love with Issei just like in canon. But what if said love is only due to Ddraig’s influence? What it Issei now had a excuse and means to justify his perversions and channel them into outright sexual and emotional abuse?

Yeah I don’t particularly feel like going further into what I entailed other than saying that it got really graphic and disturbing. So why you may ask, why would someone who was infamous for his rape fics be unable to write this of all things?

I couldn’t stomach it.

The amount of talent required at the time was beyond me and I think it’s beyond me even now but lets pause for a second and really think about this. This is something that I have no experience but sadly too many people do. IF I got even the most single fact wrong, I simply wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

Even worse, the part that I would be at most knowledgeable about, the emotional aspect of abuse, would bring up memories that I would rather not think about.

You don’t like fics like this out of passion or joy, you write them out of sheer artistic conveyance to a particular issue. You write them cause you are in pain. You write them to punish yourself. You write them to reveal a dark part of yourself you suppress with thousands of years of civilization and morality. It would be an all around miserable experience for everything.

And why would I do that to myself and others? That is not the sign of a healthy mindset and it is counterproductive to the reason I write dark fics in general.

So I am happy to toss this idea in the bin. I can’t stop anyone from doing this idea, all power to you, but I don’t want to read it. Perhaps my curiosity would get to the better of me.

Either way, I say goodbye to this fic, and hopefully this painful period of my life.

Peace.

#highschool dxd #depressing shit #sorry for being depressing #freedom #moving on #free real estate #Dark Fic #i will survive #im fine #i miss him #but thats life #happiness is real #gotta earn it #mental heath support #self healing #therapy is important #so are friends #dont give up #life isnt easy #but keep on living #you are loved #even if it doesnt feel like it sometimes #too many things to do #live long and prosper #its gonna be okay #i hope this makes sense #sadness doesnt last

[sayuricorner]

Lil’ Lucifer AU X Samurai Jack crossover AU idea

Warning: English isn’t my first language so sorry if it’s confusing! ^^’

Lil’ Lucifer AU belong to @brightgoat

Samurai Jack belong to Genndy Tartakovsky

Here’s a AU idea which I got times ago! :)

You can use the AU if you want just credite/tag brightgoat and I in return please! :)

AU concept:

So this AU would take place when Lucifer was a kid and in Heaven, one day he and his siblings find out about God's true intentions toward Lucifer, they're completly upset and are freaking out not knowing what to do.

After thinking for a while the angels siblings came up with a solution : If Lucifer got a more calm attitude and act like he was an obedient son maybe their father will give up his idea to push their brother to the edge and leave him alone ?

So Lucifer and his siblings put the plan in motion, he didn't like to had to play the ̎ good angel boy ̎ but it was worth it since their father seemed to ̎ calm down ̎, but what they didn't know is that in fact God was getting bored with Lucifer's new attitude and deciding nothing exiting will happen he decide to just abandon his creations and to go creating another world leaving his Heaven completly defenseless.

The angels didn't get the time to panic that a distortion of space time make their world merging with another world and said world was the one ruled by the demon Aku.

Indeed, one of Aku's schemes was to merging other worlds with his to expand his empire and since God forsaken his world his godly influence is not here anymore to keep it from Aku's powers.

And now God is no longer here and their world is fused with another, Heaven no longer in the highest skies is now perched on the top of a mountain with the angels desperatly using whatever they got to keep Aku and his soldiers to invade them while making sure to not completly freak out due to the fact their father abandoned them.

But what neither Aku or the Angels know is this new turn of event will bring the attention of a certain samurai who will stop at nothing to protect people from Aku, especially when said people are lost, scared and traumatised children.

Jack and the angels:

-Jack heard words about Aku’s armies making attacks on a city *cough*Heaven*cough* settled at the top of a mountain and our samurai being the good man he is decided to go defend the city from Aku.

-When he get to the “city”, it was getting attacked by one of Aku’s armies and like in many Samurai Jack episodes, Jack fight Aku’s minions, defeat them and force them to retreat.

-He was VERY shocked when he saw the “citizens” of the city, not because of their “winged lambs” appearance, but because they were all children, very scared children.

-The angels were extremely wary of Jack and don’t know if they can trust him. 

-After all they have been abandonned by the one who were supposed to be their father, found their world fused with another which is totally unknow to them, a dangerous demon try to invade them and now this unknow warrior who appear from no-where.

-Jack with a lot of patience convince the angels to let him train them and help them to be able to defend themself against Aku.

-So Jack stayed for a time with the Angels and step by step the latters get to built a trust bond with him.

-The samurai teach the Angels everything he know about fighting.

-When the Angels get on their bad habits, Jack enter in full “dad mode” on them.

-Like make Raziel understand that while being curious and wanting to collect knwoledge is not a bad thing, it’s also important to respect people’s boundaries and privacy’s.

-Or making something about Lucifer’s bratty attitude.

-Or when some of the Angels, because of the trauma, tried to blame Lucifer for what happen, Jack intervene and put some sense into them.

-But most of all, Jack taught the Angels to be truly independant and to had free will and how to use it.

-Little by little the Angels end up to see Jack as a mentor and even as a father.

-Some, like Lucifer, even call him “dad” or “father” by accident, like:

Jack(explain to Lucifer how to use a combat technique and how to use it responsably): Do you understand very well?

Lucifer(rolling his eyes annoyed): Yeah, yeah! I’ll make sure to be carefull don’t worry dad!

Jack(surprised): ... What?

Lucifer(realizing what he said): !!!! (Nervously) O-Oh did you hear that? I think Michael is calling me ah ah!

Jack(confused): But no one was-

Lucifer(nervous and flaying away quickly): Wellgottagoseeyoulater!

Jack(confused): ... What just happened?

(Micheal is in his bedroom, reading a book when a panicked Lucifer barged in)

Michael(jumping and starting to panicking): Lucifer? What’s going on? Are we again under attack?

Lucifer(screaming panicking): I CALLED JACK “DAD”!!!

Michael((shocked): What?

Lucifer(groan in embarrassement): Aaaaaaaarrrrggghhh...(get in a foetal position and envelop himself with his wings)

-After some times staying with the Angels, Jack leave to go back in his journey to defeat Aku and go back to the past but go see the Angels times to times.

-He even asked the Scottsman to help the Angels with their training while he was away.(Let’s not forget that the guy is the father of an army of daughters, so I think he could handle the Angels well)

Ending:

-During the times Jack was missing(last season) the Angels were very worried about him.

-Once he was back on track, one of the first things Jack do is to go to see the Angels to reassure them that he is fine, much to the relief of the latters.

-When Jack and Ashi got together, the Angels had difficulties to accept her, after all she was Aku’s daughter and has tried to kill Jack in the past so it take at bit of time before the Angels really accept her and trust her.

-Some of the Angels were even jealous of Ashi, thinking she’s stealing their “dad”. *cough*Lucifer*cough*.

-During the time before the final battle, Jack spend time with the Angels, it was bittersweet moments during which the Angels had to accept that their “father figure” will go forever and used those moments as to say “farewell” to Jack.

-The final battle against Aku took place at the foot of the mountain where Heaven is settled.

-The oldest Angels took part in the final battle with Jack’s other friends against Aku.

-When Aku was defeated and Jack and Ashi go back in the past, the Angels accepted that they were going to see Jack ever again but were still very sad about it.

-However, something very strange happened with the time portal when Ashi used her powers and create a explosion which trap in the all the Angels and send them in the past with Jack and Ashi.

-This follow the secret ending of the game “Samurai Jack: Battle through time” and so unlike in the canon cartoon, Ashi still live.(Leave jack be happy please! T_T)

-This happen ‘cause after Jack defeat Aku in the past once for all, the gods who give Jack his sword decided to reward Jack for all the trials he have gone through to defeat Aku and save the world, even the universe and multiverse, to use their powers to destroy Ashi’s link to Aku and to make sure she would not die with Aku not existing anymore.

-He also got the very happy surprise to see that his disciples *cough*adopted kids*cough* were also send in the past with him and Ashi.

-Jack’s parents were overjoyed to see not only that their son was back but also that he was back with a fiancée and a bunch of disciples/adopted children.

-Jack and Ashi end up married and took the Angels officially as disciples and adopted children.

-After all the trials and difficulties everyone was now happy and a new age of prosperity was begin.

AU details:

-The Angels being very traumatized by their “father” abandonning them and having to deal with the mental damages all this caused.

-BAMF samurai Jack

-Awesome mentor/father Jack

-Lucifer being a little shit

-Michael looking up at Jack for being a great honorable warrior.

-The Angels’s familal bond becoming stronger and more genuine through the AU.

-The Angels growing and becoming independant thank to Jack’s guidance and parenting.

-Ashi becoming officially a mother figure/adopted mother to the Angels at the end of the AU.

-Jack and the Angels having family bonding moments.

-About the allies/friends Jack made in Aku’s future after Jack defeat Aku in the past: they are still alive in a alternative timeline in which Aku died in after Jack, Ashi and the Angels were send back to the past ‘cause the portal was connected to him and the portal was directly connected to Jack’s time and by so instead of not being affected by the changes in the past like everyone else in the future, Aku suffered the altering and do with his past self dead he also died. And by so jack’s friends and everyone else from Aku’s future were now free.

#lil lucifer au #samurai jack #crossover #crossover au #lucifer #Archangel Michael #archangels #ashi #aku #au idea #lil' lucifer au

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Before the Dawn AU - Sephiroth (long post)

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Music Theme Found Here

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Basic AU Info from Profile:

Sephiroth is the only one of his kind--many a Dryad there have been, and some birthed forth from his home land, but none like him. He himself is bound to the Mother Crystal found within the Great Woods in the Forgotten City. For many years, he believed himself a pure being, created to protect his Mother and all that was pure and good that she created or reigned over in the City and at its edges. He knew she hated the weak, the powerless, just as much as she hated those greedy with power and arrogant with toxic ego. And so he hated them as well. For why would he not, if mother did? He protected the City, and roamed within it. But when the day came that a dark Vampire came strolling through, intent on clawing out one of the mothers resting within the crystal (as the form of two women seemed to rest within the great large crystals core), something in him changed. By nature and nurture, he was intent on fighting this Vampire off, but he spewed nonsense about being his true creator, and that his Mothers were useless and greedy wenches. Argument and battle ensued, and what few friends Sephiroth may have gained from the very small population of beings and descendants of Ancients (the original elvenesque people of the Forgotten City and keepers of the crystals and the pure energy of the woods), they tried to aid him, to reason with him. But this Vampire, Hojo, seemed to tear assunder the very fabric of the life the Dryad had lived--He tore too deep into the crystal, and into Sephiroth’s own belief of his existence, and both made Sephiroth susceptible to control….from the very one he trusted most, his great mother Jenova, who’s power had finally been freed enough by the damage to the crystal to reach him. From then on out, she used him like her very tool of will. A great many inhabitants of the City died at his hand, as holy fire wrought throughout it, only a few fae and ancient descendants escaping, seemingly by Sephiroths failure to seize them… Jenova would seek to continue using him as her own puppet, building his power, his strength, twisting him into a possible vessel if she could ever have him free her from the crystal without absolutely destroying it. But Jenova wasn’t the only one in the crystal--no, when Sephiroth was to be made, by Hojo and his mate, Lucrecia, using a shart of Jenova’s crystal, conflict grew between them all, jenova influencing them without their know, breeding Hojo’s greed further, and Lucrecia’s love for those innocents who did not deserve his cruel actions (both the vampire pawn Hojo intended to create, and the back up they saw their claimed son would be). During a confrontation, Lucrecia was stabbed by the shard, which Hojo still used, thinking the ordeal only gave it more power, unknowing of the fact that it had corrupted his mate. Throughout their time developing Sephiroth, she found herself twisted between a cruel darkness akin to Hojo’s, and her true heart shining through. She was almost consumed by that darkness, but escaped with what seemed to be a crystalized egg, holding a small toddler within, and she begged Jenova to make it right, to forgive her her sins in what she’d done to the crystal, and help her give Sephiroth a chance to live. Jenova took advantage of this plea, took Lucrecia into her crystal under the pretense it would prevent her corruption, which it did, but it also locked her away, and she took advantage of having her. Sephiroth was made a monster, by a corrupted Ancient locked away in the Great Crystal, meant to lock and purify her, but it could only bind her for so long. He was a nightmare upon the world, making victims of many beings, from werewolves, to vampires, to demons, to fae, to humans. It mattered not, so long as Jenova saw weakness that needed to be snuffed out. It seemed as if he would either end the world, or have to end himself. It was by the will of warriors that he was finally stopped, and the faint influence of the mother who sacrificed herself for his best chest, Lucrecia, that he found his end….and began again. He returned to the Forgotten City, forging from it’s waters anew, stronger, and wiser, and wearing his crimes and cruelty and truth like a weight upon his shoulders. He now wanders the world looking to purify crystals by a ritual taught to him by a tender ancient decadent girl from before his wreckage upon the City--he wanted to ensure Jenova’s reach would not continue, that she would be removed, never to harm anyone again (unbeknownst to him, his rebirth after defeat at the hands of a specific warrior would produce Jenova’s last attempt at presence, a Water Nymph in their combined visage). He is seen as a monster by most, and does not deny it, but he carries on, to make the world better from the damage he did to it. His natural form involves pale skin, very little clothing if any, minor horns sprouting backward from his bangs, discoloration of the skin around his, elongated nails, markings upon his skin that look like tattoos made to look like cracks in his skin, a few embedded crystals in certain patterns here and there over his upper body. He also has a feral form which involves glowing eyes, discoloured, iridescent skin, crystal embedded horns as opposed to his normal horns that look similar to dull and half dead branches of the trees of the Great Forest of the Forgotten City, a wing of Crystal and light, and slightly increased size. (timeline of his story is dependent entirely on what we as rp partners decide).

~   ~.  ~

Name: Sephiroth, the Crystal Dryad, the Silver Fae, the Fae Curse.

Species: Crystal Dryad, only one of a species never seen before him. (Much like a Dryad of the forests and its soul tree, but he is bound to a Great Crystal of the old Ancients culture).

Role/Profession/Job: Originally protector of the Forgotten City of the Ancients, and indirect Knight of the Mother Crystal. Then, the will and hand of Corrupt Jenova bound in Crystal, he became a curse upon all. Now, he wanders alone to mend the world, to help it heal from the damage he caused. 

Age: 30′s

Nature: As a Dryad, he is drawn to protect, care for, and stay near his connection source, and so he was very much a proud dweller of the Forgotten City and it’s forest. He mingled within the trees and smaller crystals, explored, tended to nature, and took down harmful beasts sent to taint the land. He was a peaceful being, but as he got older, he got restless and more protective, more intense, more closed off. He secluded himself. And then all connection and concern was twisted up and locked away inside him as intense loyalty turned into corrupt loyalty, leading him to harm others and lands beyond. But, his true nature is explorative, curious, intense and valiant, willing to fight as much as he is willing to stand by.

Personality: Curious, loyal, restraint with his empathy but yearning to reach it out to more in the world. He is a being seeking experiences but bound by loyalty for much of his life, and so he resigns himself to that existence and how it requires him to be, personally. But he begins to loose his free will, and control, and seemingly all chance at a free life to experience a great many things. In the throws of Jenova’s worst influence, he is cruel, angry, and seeking what he feels is vengeance and righteous cleansing. But it is not what he truly feels nor how he wished to live. When freedom comes once again, he finds himself experiencing the world with the weight of his crimes on his shoulders.  

History: Unknown to him for a great many years, and still a bit of a mystery in the present, he was the result of a cultist covens experiments and their desires to make a powerful supernatural being under their will. It was a failure, of course, as they delved too deep into their desperation and used the power of a cruel locked soul to aid their work. Through the greedy pride of Hojo, the conflicted coerced efforts of Lucrecia, and the cells of another experiment as well as the cells of the crystal mother, a new being was forged. His crystal cocoon holding his toddler sized, beginning form was carried forth to Jenova by Lucrecia, who begged for salvation for her son. His formative years was full of wonder and pride and appreciation of his land, respect and bonding with the locals within the town, and curiosity of what was beyond. He always found himself coming back to rest at the foot of the Mother crystal, where he felt at home, cradled, watched over by Mother Jenova, glowing and beautiful, and Mother Lucrecia, gentle and soft. His teen and adult years grew with troubles and problems, and more responsibilities, but he sought to do right by all. But, without his awareness and willingness, he felt that desire shrinking and narrowing, and slowly the world seemed to become toxic, the cruelties endless and festering, and he found himself haunted by visions of a doomed, decaying future. And he found himself followed Mother Jenova’s pleas for him to cleanse lands of the cruelty waiting to ruin the world. His bloodshed began in his home, the Forgotten City, but it stretched beyond, for only a few years, before a few warriors and one in particular stood against him, breaking through some part of him (or was it the influence of Mother Lucrecia, or both?), and taking him down, freeing him from the fate of being a dark hand any longer. By will of the mother that loved him truly, he found himself reborn for a second chance, and so he has taken it, to make amends and find where he once was again.

Powers/Abilities:

Energy influence over some nature and weather. The darkness or light of his influence is dependent on his state of mind.

Crystal energy connection, manipulation, energy flow.

Crystal influence as a part of him, meaning he naturally influences shards as a part of himself, and sometimes they can grow into sort of guards or simple crystal sources embedded in his skin.

Super speed, strength, extra senses especially connected to the awareness of the planet.

Energy warping for various purposes, from light display, to energizing, to healing, to blasts or shields.

Feral Form Powers; specific attacks linked to his claws, increased crystalizing, flight due to the wing upon his back made of crystals and energy, stronger levels of all other influences, can tap into the energy of the planets crystals for devestating power, if he so chooses.

Fae magic and Ancient magic spells and treatments.

#Before the Dawn | AU Verse #Dryad Sephiroth #onewinged tragedy ~ Sephiroth #AU info post #paranormal fantasy au #advertising for Dryad Sephiroth #feel free to request!! #simply DM or send an ask and specify muse and that you're requesting Before the Dawn AU #mood board #my edit mood board #aethetic board

[florbelles]

C & E for Lyra, G & M for Lillian 💕

thank you lovely!! sorry for the delay xx

— E / EXTERNAL PERSONALITY

i. does the way they do things portray their internal personality?

absolutely. it might seem counterintuitive, since a good deal of her life has relied on deception — her many cons, her evasion of suspicion in forty murders over the span of ten years, and eventually posing as a civilian to spy on the resistance for the project — but she’s effective because of her passive, instead of active, methodology; she will not tell an explicit lie, but she will make a statement that is technically true, but wildly misleading in its context; she really is that affable and good-natured. she is also sadistic, messianic, and freely admits that she considers herself monstrous ( yes, she is terrible; she knows what she is, do you? ), but generally speaking, no one has cause to see that until it’s too late ( no, literally, she is removing their eyeballs, she is cutting their tongues, she is sewing flowers where their organs used to be, and isn’t it beautiful, that their deaths have meaning, that their skin will not simply blister and burn, that they will not choke as the ash fills their lungs; she will string their bodies about the county; no one will know the work is hers, not until later, not until the end, but then, they never thought to ask ). her blood runs much too hot, she is much too impulsive and reckless, her fuse much too short to maintain a persona that is not, essentially, who she is; if others have missed something essential, well. that’s hardly her fault, is it?

ii. do they do things that conform to the norm?

absolutely not. she has never, anywhere in her life, not been glaringly out of place. it’s how she prefers it; she hides in plain sight. she was perpetually flinging herself up against what was expected of her, getting kicked out of boarding school, disappearing for days at a time on nantucket, eventually leaving the week before her sixteenth birthday and never returning. she left behind any semblance of a normalcy with her old life; she’s been on the run ever since. the closest she has had in her adult life to a routine, to normalcy, is with the project. that says everything, i think.

iii. do they follow trends or do their own thing?

see above. she has quite literally never conformed; even as a girl she was a scandal, far too obscene for the old money set ( doubtless her mother’s blood, they murmur; what was lawrence thinking? ). her manner of speaking is outdated, over-formal and over-familiar; her wardrobe consists solely of bare feet or high heels, of long white or pale pink dresses with thigh slits, plunging necklines, bared arms; she is entirely ostentatious. she was living out of her car pumping gas at a texaco in a wedding dress on a tuesday afternoon.

iv. are they up-to-date on the internet fads?

not especially, she stays informed prior to hope county on what’s presently influencing the public consciousness but she doesn’t especially engage with it; she’s never been much for the internet. she’s good at context clues. if you send her a gif or a meme she’ll understand it. if you send her a screenshot of a vine or expect her to understand that sort of shorthand she’ll be lost. why have you sent this photo of a man smashing his phone. is he a friend. does he need help.

v. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own?

she projects her personality diligently. everything about her has been refined to this; everything about the way she presents herself is intentional. yes, it’s a manipulation, but it’s also true — she has never been anything else. she would not be able to be otherwise, even if she wished to. she allows people to draw their own assumptions from what she presents, and their conclusions are nearly always incorrect; she is indisputably a certain type of woman, but very few actually arrive at the type of woman she is. she weaponizes hyper-femininity to give the illusion of vulnerability to a certain type of man. she gives the impression of materialism where there is none. she bares her tattoos at all times ( the lilies strangled by vines, the thorned roses, the serpent twined in carnations, the wrath across her breasts ); she has shown everyone what she is, she warned them, she wears it on her skin, it is not her fault they did not interpret it correctly ( this is why the marking & atonement immediately resonates with her, it’s aligned with an ideology she already possesses ).

— C / COMFORT

i. how do they sit in a chair?

legs extended and crossed at the heel when she wishes to take up space or make herself an imposing presence; straight backed with her legs folded at a bar or in a meeting; a regular feline at home ( if she’s with her husband she’s curled around him and in his lap, no personal space in this house ). ( originally answered here x )

ii. in what position do they sleep?

she used to sleep on her stomach or side with one arm flung out and the other tucked under her head; she and john sleep in a tangled mess on top of each other because they’re disgusting. she likes to keep a hand on one of his pulse points; she can’t sleep unless she can feel him breathe. ( originally answered here x)

for the last ten years of her life she sleeps curled on the ground with her fingers in the dirt and tries to feel a pulse through the earth.

iii. what is their ideal comfort day?

watch the sunrise ( this is not john's ideal comfort day so his ass better be on that balcony ), fuck all morning, wander the mountains or get high by the river most of the day, read or dance to her favorite records, and a fire at night ( bonfire in the firepit or by the river preferable, hearth fire acceptable if the weather is not permissive ).

iv. what is their major comfort food? why?

hot, sweet, baked things. sugar donuts, scones, coffee cakes. she would loiter around the nantucket bakeries as a girl. lawrence would take her sometimes, if he needed something or was repenting.

v. who is the best at comforting them when down?

john is essentially the only person she even allows to attempt; faith and joseph very circumstantially. it’s less about emotional vulnerability and more about burdening anyone else with her problems; in any given situation, she considers herself the most expendable party, but specifically her discomfort/suffering — she quite literally believes her soul to be damned and forfeit as the price of the world, the lamb, if you will — and that extends to her emotional state in terms. she’s comfortable making herself john’s problem because he signed up for it; she adamantly refuses to do so elsewhere.

— G / GORGEOUS

i. what is their most attractive external feature?

she favors her eyes; all of her sisters share them. she is most often complimented on her hair.

ii. what is the most attractive part of their personality?

extremely resourceful and an excellent conversationalist; either a real pain in the ass or a fucking delight when she lets her hair down, depending on who you ask.

iii. what benefits come with being their friend?

access to everywhere and everything, though if it’s above board she’s probably going to be dull about it and spend the whole time sniping at society she sees there. knows the best places to slip in if you don’t want to be seen, can guarantee you’re seen if you do. can dispatch unwanted suitors, artfully when she’s sober and off-puttingly when she in her cups. premium gossip, if you'd like it.

truthfully, before the war, she'll never be a simple friend to have; she comes with the complications of her family and her name, as much as she might like to slip out at night and play at anonymity to pretend otherwise ( which she will want to do, often ). nonetheless, she invariably comes with society's gaze fixed on her, her familial obligations, and a good deal of skepticism about the intentions of others. she’ll see to your social advancement because that’s what she expects you need from her. if you've withstood the test of time, however, you’re her family, second only to her siblings; she’ll do anything for you.

post-war she can offer her loyalty and a wealth of knowledge about the world before, context to pre-war technology, etc. very scientifically adept, if not trained; in another life she would have spent her years in a lab instead of in front of the cameras. a valuable ally as long as you don't put her on the front lines.

iv. what parts of them do they like and dislike?

she likes that she's resourceful. she likes that she's undefeated among her peers at chess. she likes how splendidly she can command a room, when she wishes; she likes that she can make people listen to her. she likes it better still when she feels she has something that's worth saying ( and she nearly always does ). she likes that she can be ruthless.

while it is one of her defining traits, she can dislike her obstinacy, insofar as she recognizes it’s to blame for her willful blindness to what was happening around her before the great war. she dislikes the extent to which her loyalty to her family led her to turn her head to what was happening around her. she dislikes that she cares so much what everyone thinks of her. she dislikes that she needs her mother's approval, that she hears her voice even after her death. even after she killed her.

v. what parts of others do they envy?

to that point, she envies the more uninhibited like jackie a good deal; to disregard the opinion of others, even their family, in the name of staying true to herself and her ideals is a type of bravery that lillian wishes she had, even if she thinks jackie misguided in her radicalism. she envies freedom, in all forms she lacks it. she envies those unconcerned with perfectionism. she envies anyone who lives a life unencumbered by expectations and legacies.

post-war, she envies those who aren’t burdened with what came before, all that was lost and how and why. she wouldn’t unknow it it she could — being the last to know is a great fear of hers that’s been realized one too many times — but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t envy those who don’t have that baggage of first hand experience and involvement.

— M / MATERNAL

i. would they want a daughter or a son?

neither, truthfully, but she would probably feel more comfortable raising a son; she’s already spent her life shielding evie from their mother, and feels she did an abysmal job of it, so she’s not eager to repeat those mistakes.

ii. how many children do they want?

none, really. lillian is unable to have biological children, but even if she could, she only would have had them out of a sense of obligation to continue the family line, and because of that sense of obligation — subconscious though it might have been — she came to resent the concept.

iii. would they be a good parent?

not really. she could learn — she can learn about anything — but it wouldn't come naturally to her. because it's not something she would choose for herself, it isn't something that would ever be uncomplicated for her. in many respects she's too much a perfectionist to strike a balance as a parent; she would either be overinvolved and overbearing or go to the other extreme and be entirely hands-off. her nanny would most likely be the better mother; hers was.

iv. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter?

john is the family name for boys, from which she'd probably be disinclined to deviate ( even evie only ventured so far as "shaun" in her defiance ). she would name a girl anything but audrey ( her mother's first name, her own legal first name ). after the war it would be extremely circumstantial. she would probably name her after jackie. because of birth order, she tells evie brightly. evie is annoyed by this for the rest of their lives.

v. would they adopt?

she technically does adopt, in the sense that she takes in her nephew and passes him off as her own. she figured she owed evie that much. ( as it happens, the great war comes just before his first birthday, so motherhood is still not something in the cards for her ). she wouldn't do it again, and she would not have done it under virtually any other circumstances.

#pardon the novel jfc #i flipped e & c for the order because i recycled a few answers in c xx #answered #scungilliwoman #oc: lyra fairbanks #oc: lillian fitzgerald

[howdytherepardner]

a tale of two fountains or maybe tributes to "great men"

spires of caverns and pits and spikes; all in aggregate seem to suggest that it could not all have been constructed with care yet each one constructed with too much care for one to bear. cascading semi-chlorinated water separated and dispersed through multitude arteries abruptly exposed to the world around it, standing alone in a vernal pool tucked between decadence and the machines driving legacies of wealth and influence. despite the drapings of grandeur and the mythos surrounding it, it is not unknowable. any outside perspective would give you something to remember it by, but the spears are not a strong enough defense to hides its insides. this unrelenting, static chaos holds an eye of stability; not precise to guarantee protection, but enough to assure that anyone brave enough to venture within will know some measure of relief from the world that surrounds it and the world that it is.

~

i wander down an exposed stairwell with my prox and a towel, wearing only a linting mask and old swim shorts. the paved surfaces that my journey follows range from smoother cement to asphalt jagged with berries from trees that would never realize their evolutionary purpose. it is not the first time i have decided to sit under the fountain of freedom ahead of me arriving at it, but it is the first in memory that i have been so prepared. normally, a pair of briefs would get soaked while too many things sat on the stairs anticipating the emergence of my dripping form, which would continue until i made it back to my room. but there i was. i have never been particularly good at meditation, and would only claim to have “achieved” a meditative state a few moments in my life, but media depictions of water falls as a particular source for finding some form of releasing outer thoughts; it seems to work well enough, but perhaps i just enjoy the spectacle. this night, there were only a few pairs that sat along the side of water, so not too much of an audience, but enough for me to wonder what they thought as i hung my towel and mask on “Double Sights” and sloshed my way to the tower. normally i might set myself directly under a narrow cascade or in the eye, but this session i remained at a static point in orbit: my legs soaked and my arms quickly coated by innumerable droplets, but my hair only catching the most divergent skydivers, the back of my neck losing its dryness only to sweat and humidity.

it’s a place of security, your conversations drowned out by incessant waters, and in close enough proximity, your own thoughts as well. that was the aim of my venture up campus. i’ve been struggling to fall asleep lately. my body will be exhausted from interactions and activities (walking to class? inconceivable) enough that i give up on work earlier in the night and pray that an earlier sleep will restore some greater stamina. the mind however is plagued with sensations of the time that i’m wasting THERE ARE ONLY 22 WEEKS OF SCHOOL LEFT AND YOU’RE SITTING IN YOUR FUCKING ROOM WHAT HAPPENED TO THE YOU THIS SUMMER WHO WAS READY TO SEE PEOPLE AND LIVE AGAIN, the regrets i am well beyond amending THIS IS JUST HOW YOU WERE FRESHMAN AND SOPHOMORE YEAR HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING WITH YOUR IVY LEAGUE TRANSCRIPT, and other anxieties I AM FAILING ALREADY. I AM INDEED TAKING IT ALL FOR GRANTED, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT PRINCETON OPINION PERSON? I AM DISAPPOINTING MY FRIENDS AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER INVESTED CAUSE OR CONCERN IN MY SUCCESS AND WELL-BEING. of course, the mind is of body as well, and these permeate through the rest of me. i haven’t felt health for a while THOUGH I’M SURE THAT’S JUST THE COVID THAT I’VE DEFINITELY CONTRACTED AND SPREAD TO MY LOVED ONES or the scattered eating and sleeping schedule compounding into no full restoration. most of the time, this leads to a shirtless run on the towpath (if i’m not doing school work, i might as well perfect this bag of bones), but Ida has eroded many segments to the bottom of the canal, so darker nights may not be the best for it AND MY VISION SEEMS TO BE GETTING WORSE EVERY DAY, SO IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME UNTIL THE BODY SURRENDERS ANY SHRED OF WORTH ENTIRELY.

but that night was not humid, and chilly waters woke me to ensure i was fully experiencing my slate slowly being washed away. worries seem to just slip away from me, like a patagonia in any of the clubs’ coat rooms. i feel the effortless mind of my body switch on the ignition, turning all engines to ensure that i freezen’t in the water, and i can stretch each muscle individually as i am asked to confront the prospect of how this form is treated. and i can breathe again, full and deep, and i feel like i am able to get up and face the world as it comes once more.

~

Scudder Plaza may be the most relaxing spot on campus: you can catch the cooling spray from James FitzGerald’s monumental sculpture, Fountain of Freedom, or be soothed by the sounds of its cascading water. At twenty-three feet high, Fountain of Freedom is one of the largest cast bronze sculptures in the U.S. Inspired by the rugged beauty of the artist’s native Pacific Northwest, the grooves, channels, and spires of the six-ton sculpture—reminiscent of naturally eroded forms—are meant to symbolize Woodrow Wilson’s aspirations and frustrations. … Seven hundred gallons of water are recirculated through the fountain each minute and are sprayed through an intricate system of fifty major pressure valves and more than 1,000 pin-hold jets. (x)

~

but tower 4 is some distance from those 4 towers. and without jets pushing them back, many things come crawling back. i am looking down to the basement cafe with its lights out, wondering if the people coming my way were laughing at my relative under-dress, when i decide that i cannot go home yet. i complete another barefoot walk across campus, and lay my towel down as a seat at my penultimate resting place.

~

its silhouette a vague enough [cardioid of sorts] to prevent any association based on shape alone, your expectations may be higher than what you need. it is a piece of furniture in name and in relativity to form, something regarded briefly in the minds’ eye and then passed by just as quickly. its flows ooze at a steady rate, in synch such that it never appears to be moving at all; the only proof that it is, really, is the shading below coming from beyond the light and the drippings at its bottom hidden from view. those surface shimmers make a soft sound, but on touch simply flow between the fingertips. a single indentation on the surface has received a few stones of the many that live below its form, placed there by hands other than its creator; certainly, they gave their vision the precise amount of care and intent required to manifest it. an illusion that what it emits has eroded it over many years to a smooth shape, but with the truth that it is still very young and remains solid within.

~

it would not feel quite right to sit atop einstein’s table, so i sit on the concrete next to the square of rocks. even with consistent eye contact, its subtle streaming does little to shield spectators from the world outside. a car driving by listening to top hits from summers past, a few pedestrians making their pilgrimage for late night snacks; every little itch on the surface of my skin, and of course, bare exposure to every THIS and THAT in a state of overwhelming stillness. but in all, it comes to pass, and my brain is left backtracking to the overwhelming stillness i have known in recent months. i am nostalgic for my University Mandated Quarantine Walks, particularly one alone in the mountain lakes preserve after my first snow back. i am nostalgic for early autumn days looking at the sun reflected off a pond. i am nostalgic for the waiting to find out where i’d spend my junior year, the waiting to receive messages and letters from friends. restless simplicity, anticipation for better things that, well, i guess are supposed to be the present. it doesn’t really feel that way now. as SENTIMENTS have alluded to, i am struggling to make it through right now. instead of a senior year that serves as the culmination of all that came before, i feel instead trapped in shitty replays of the past 3 years. like a script composed of false cognates, it feels like i understand what is happening right now and it makes no sense.

~

Near the earthwork is “Einstein’s Table,” made of jet mist granite and inspired by Albert Einstein’s theory on black holes. Lin noted that the theory was validated last year during the creation of the table. Outer space and constellations were a source of inspiration for both projects, she said.

During the hourlong conversation, Lin shared details of her process from start to finish, which included many adjustments along the way. “With every artwork there might be six to eight models,” she said. “I’m always teaching myself about the site, so that I’m preparing myself for what it’s going to be like to be on site.” (x)

~

but i think i am mostly wondering about how similarly others are feeling. it appears to me that my peers are sliding right back into the chaos of the now, festive in the face of it all and doing everything i tell myself i should be doing right now. do i come off that way to them? does anyone really know how to express these feelings 100 leagues below the surface, or is it just me? what feels true to me, and what leads me to rise from my seat next to the table and return home, is that i must continue. there is little option now but to follow through on this all until the end of the line, whenever it may come; maybe that comes easier for some people now, but i think i’ll make it eventually. i am not entirely sad and i am not entirely happy, but i am here. i think i want to help people despite not being perfect at it, and i am here. all things for granted or not, i am here. i will continue to get cold under one monument and never deny the temptation to touch another passing by, because i know those are things i like to think. i hope you know you can talk to me always.