Hi! i love your art! And I'm curious about something: what do you think of the staff? And which is your favorite?
thank you! ❤️❤️❤️ I LOVE the staff, I wish we got to see more of them -- every once in a while we'll get a little side bit of them interacting with each other and it's always SO good. (for that and more proof that EHN is the best event, see: the teachers trying to hold their own Halloween party without Crowley noticing because they don't want to invite him. why was this one scene and not a long-spanning subplot like it deserved to be. we were robbed.)
I have probably made it pretty obvious which of the staff is my favorite, because I love characters who are huge morons who couldn't read a room if they had industrial-strength prescription glasses:
but I'm pretty fond of all of them! it takes a certain kind of person to work at NRC for more than five minutes. though I do think Trein is probably my second favorite? he LOVES his cat! he LOVES his wife! he LOVES history even though he is fed up with these teens and their wacky misadventures! also, I really want to hear the rest of his saucy makeout story. talk about dangling plot threads. 😔
genuinely we need more staff interactions in canon, there is so much untapped hilarity there I CAN FEEL IT
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Talking to Lurien in a dream
I'm sticking with the Godseeker ending, with a number of headcanons of my own
For example, that the Dreamers were aware of themselves and their surroundings the whole time they were in the Dreaming. And they could also keep an eye on the real world through the reveries of the not yet infected bugs
So, Herrah slipped into meditation, a dream within a dream, and didn't follow the real world, as she didn't see the point of it, since she couldn't affect it in any way anyway (Herrah didn't even follow her tribe or Hornet. She was used to controlling her life and always fighting for it, so when control was taken away from her, she simply withdrew into herself, for there was no point in aimless watching)
Monomon was mostly absorbed in Quirrell's dreams, following his wanderings, and her own musings on the nature of the mortal world and the dream world. The dreams of ordinary bugs didn't bother her much (Her biggest problem was her inability to write down her ideas. After a while, she even tried scratching out words on rocks, but that was hardly possible for non-existent objects. Especially if you only had soft tentacles)
Lurien, living up to his title of Watcher, had been watching the world through the bug's dream all this time (and since the King's plan went to hell, he's been subjected to the inevitable self-digging and self-loathing for giving his life away for free for a shitty plan by a shitty ruler) He's just too damn tired and frustrated, forgive him
And, after the ending of Godseeker, the Dreamers wake up from their slumber, and try to do something about the ruins of their kingdom. Working for free again ¦D
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We aren't talking about the teacher reviews enough. We know that Jace Stardiamond is serving the evil rage god and (appears to be) the only faculty member to do so. The stress of FHJY is, at the moment, only affecting the students. You know who is more powerful than the students? The teachers. You know what would make teachers angry? Hearing how ungrateful their students are. A bunch of teens who don't know anything telling the teachers how they don't do their jobs properly? Teachers who dedicate their entire lives to helping these students, only to get a 2?! That would make anyone mad. And we've never seen the teacher evaluations before. I wonder who could have implemented those? Jace Stardiamond, the vice principal with limited administrative powers perhaps?
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Everything is so hardddd. I've applied for several jobs this morning and I'm in talks with a nonprofit to get help launching a website for my comics and stickers. I couldn't offer as many products as like Redbubble but I'd make way more of the profit so that'd be cool.
Also thinking of printing physical copies of my comics and that's a whole bucket of worms I can't open but it's sitting there in my brain like a heavy tub of worms would do. I still need to come up with a plan for lunch and run errands and after all that virtue I can finally plop myself down and draw more Aisling and Kleo.
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Far too gone to get out, Far too sane to disappear.
I wrote this for my lovely friend, Maki (@dazai-ritualist) and her yandere Alastor au which I swear is my favorite thing ever. She's literally the sweetest thing ever and if you like yandere Alastor, you will be in heavan. Please please follow and read the series. I swear you won't regret it!!!
"I find that the harder you seem to grip, the more you seem to drop, my love."
Alastor had been quiet the past few days. That was…never good. If he was quiet, it meant he needed to be in deep thought…and if he needed to be in deep thought, you were royally fucked.
Today had been no different. You had woken up late, You went down to the kitchen, where your son and Alastor sit in the wooden breakfast nook that you and Alastor had built together before…all of this.
Everything was normal…
That was bad.
“Mama! Hi! Good morning! Papa-”
Noah gets up to run over to you like he always would when he woke up before you in the hotel…you smile fondly. It was almost like you were back home…almost like you were normal.
“Alright, Dear. Let’s let mama wake up now, shall we?”
But of course, Alastor just had to crush that. You frown and walk towards your cabinets…the beautiful light green ones you had once taken such care of before…this.
Your husband hands you a cup of coffee, smiling soft enough to not alert Noah but with far too much of an edge to be sweet.
You almost turn as green as your cabinets and throw up. You don’t, though. Not in front of Noah. You’d seen parents argue and you wouldn’t let your son go through that.
Part of you knew it wasn’t arguing, it was survival but that part had long since been silenced.
“The station is having a late start today…something about the end of lent or something to that effect. Never-the-matter, it gave me time to cook this morning. I haven’t had time to cook for him yet.”
Alastor gestured to Noah, to which your little boy beamed, just like you had when your marriage had been friendly…platonic…perfect.
Oh how you longed for the days where you’d leave each other alone. Where your house was safe. Where you could do whatever you so wished. Where you could not only not be afraid but also joyful. Where you could be happy.
Because you weren’t happy. Not anymore. From what you’ve read, you were very clearly struggling with depression. However, you knew that seeing a shrink wasn’t an option for you.
Yeah, no. You weren’t going to give Alastor the chance to say “Mama’s not crazy, my dear, don’t listen to the people down the street…She’s just a little unwell in the head right now. Now smile, she wouldn’t want to see you sad.” To your son. That was not fucking happening.
Alastor looked at you, smiling like the sick, sadistic monster he was.You were stuck. He knew that. He knew that you were in your own head more so than you should, especially when Noah was at school.
He knew you didn’t have anything to keep yourself busy with, hell, he basked in that fact. The fact that you were slowly losing all drive to fight and just accept this was like music to his ears.
You were running out of people to talk to. Running out of neighbors to ask for sugar when you very clearly had a perfectly fine bag in your cupboard.
You were running out of sanity.
Day-by-day, you were slowly becoming more-and-more malleable, more-and-more agreeable, more-and-more lonely, more-and-more unstable.
You were becoming what he wanted.
And may god or whatever else is out there help you find a way out before it was too late.
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