#seriously I have always felt it in deeper context

[rattkween86]

I'm sure this is old news to everyone, but when Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel," I melt EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME SOMEONE HELP 😭

#good omens #good omens thoughts #seriously I have always felt it in deeper context #and I love it every time #crowley #aziraphale

[terraco-07]

HSBC direction and character writing

So the team has released the writer's commentary early to the public most likely because they know how inflammatory the last update is/has been and wanted to get the reasoning behind it out there. Going to be going through it piece by piece here. Disclaimer: None of my opinions and thoughts are directed at the people as individuals and any criticism is directed at the writing itself. With that said, lets start off. Haven saying “this is the update where we’re gonna see if people are really rockin’ with us or not.” Lmao yep and I can assure you that I'm not one of them. I think we're seeing the end results though of a years bleeding fandom here though. Most people who enjoyed Homestuck either didn't read the epilogues or HS2 because they knew it was something they wouldn't like and didn't care for the direction of taking away the kids victory and giving them some new battle to fight while hurting each character. Those remaining are primarily people who are curious, neutral, or liked the official releases after Homestuck ended. Among them I'm sure a fair amount have liked this because this is already a work catered to them and what they want for better or worse. Anyways, moving on. So the next part just goes over everyone liking Yiffy and her getting a voice and all that, not much to comment on here. Which is a non issue except still making Rose and Jade call their kid a type of porn and keeping that was such a choice, but hey silly candy timeline right? Okay moving on to the conversation that matters. Okay starting with Floral: "Kanaya has long earned this confrontation and she’s not going to accept anything less than the truth." JAMES: This is the funniest line in Homestuck. This is so fucking funny because she gets cut off half way through and then the you fucked my wife being memed to hell in back both took any bite out of it and visibly made me cringe to read. Kanaya is mad here but there are other ways to write it. Would have loved to see a rant about "If you loved me so much Jade why would you betray my trust? Why would you not speak to me. Now you choose to spit in my face like this?" Etc etc. I may genuinely re-write every Kanaya part in this log at some point. I did do an alt version already but that's neither here nor there. Compliments for the art which deserve it! BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP GOING "Pretty art" AND EXCUSE BAD WRITING. I've had to read "I'm just using it as a picture book" and "I skipped through the logs" way too fucking much. JAMES: This one was for the sapphics. The most important demographic that exists. ... saying this while obliterating the biggest endgame sapphic romance? But hey guys!! Kanaya's hot right? This makes it all better :) Especially considering compared to Homestuck proper the epilogues and HS2 have just felt actively hostile towards sapphics FLORAL: This scene is also only one small part of the larger puzzle, bridging between what already existed in HS2 to what we want to do deeper into HS:BC. A puzzle that most of us aren't going to want to figure out. The question of if something is bad for the first 500-1000 pages is it worth consuming will always be no. Also points of expanding the border of Homestuck 1 BUT WE NEVER GET TO SEE THIS. I'm going to hit more on this later but Rose specifically there's so little or no direct foundational build up to her current character choices.

MILES: Yeah, seriously.  I felt viscerally going in that it was really important that Kanaya get some time to just be a stone cold bitch, both in the context of this particular marital fuck-up and in general.  She deserves it. So I'm on my hands and knees begging you guys to learn how to write badass powerful women that doesn't involve them just getting angry because their wife cheated. Hands and fucking knees. This goes for any writing in general but if you have to develop a character through purely negative experiences I'm not sure you should be writing. This whole entire scenario with Rosemary is such a cheap drama soap opera point to begin with (like a lot of HS2). Why can't we let Kanaya be her own fucking person and have shit going on, do something in the war, get to have moments like this in relation to Jane.

FLORAL:  Was so excited for this panel when we were first outlining the update. I had a lot of feelings about how we should move forward from the initial Yiffy reveal, but justification for these narrative choices only matter inside of the text itself, and this is only a tip of a much larger iceberg.

That said, what has always appealed to me the most about Candy in Beyond Canon is that it’s an opportunity to explore alt. selves to the max and start finding the missing “Meat” to Candy’s unbalanced and unsatisfying narrative. The irony for me on this is it was written about the fucking Jojo ass posing Rose which is in my opinion the worst panel in the update. Rose being turned into a comical villain for the sole reason of shaking things up in Candy. Justifications in the text is a great way of putting it and before this we had very very little. The idea of telling us afterwards well it was all apart of the grand plan when barely any time ago we have Rose thanking John for how happy she was to have her life the way it is here. Rose suddenly going ahh apathy my true love and going from a loveable and complex character to this flat cardboard cut out is the biggest crime of this update. The I knew you would forgive me part too. Just. GIRL HOW?? Rose Lalonde who first lost her seer powers in Candy, second the same girl who couldn't even see her friends all dying and her failing in game over. This girl? She saw 15 YEARS INTO THE FUTURE and knew Kanaya would just get it. Roll over like a good wife and be okay. I didn't know she was a seer of time now? This is the worst line in the entire update simply because it implies that Rose has gone off the deep end in the least interesting way and is now an unreliable narrator or that Kanaya is actually going to forgive her and holy fuck that would be the actual worst way to take this. Not beating the NTR kink allegations HS2 writers. Also spoiler alert it's unsatisfying because everyone in it gets fucked over by writing choices as baseless and useless as these. You're perpetuating the problem.

HAVEN: The world hasn't felt real to Rose since she was 16, this life is like a game to her. For her, a war is just “something to do.” Also man while this was a route that I didn't like for the epilogues either there are so many other ways to handle this than the one chosen. But that would require a rewrite from the start of HS2 which already put on this shit show. I still wholeheartedly believe that none of the things listed here justify Rose's behavior to Kanaya. As the one anchor point she's had her entire adult life. FLORAL: It’s a little sad that even during a Rosemary moment, it's never really about Rosemary, huh? Then later- "There really needed to be a joke here, too, to sell the emotional drop the next page brings" Kettle, meet pot. Whatever could be the cause for nothing ever being about them and the pair being relegated to background bullshit? Who's to say indeed. But hey! They're at the forefront now, and only for the most basic and cheap drama ways. Also I loathe this mentality about there needing to be a joke. You're clearly writing this for adults at this point a joke isn't required a real look at the situation is. The gag at the end where the convo gets ended is enough to break the tension for the reader.

FLORAL: There’s catalyst events, sure, but ask a few questions and it becomes apparent everything rides on the history of smaller fights, disappointment, sweeped away passive aggressions, miscommunication and unsaid hurt feelings.

This is why writing characters in their 40’s is great and why there is so much to do in Candy. Behind all the patented Homestuck misdirection and narrative unreliability, you’re left with an offshoot full of alternate selves at their lowest, layered in apathy and evidently not saying what they think Once again we aren't shown this. We just get told about it later and that's incredibly unsatisfying as a reader. Explaining it further down the line and doing more justification later does not help this either. I think also the idea that everyone in their middle aged years is jaded and apathetic is such a lame ass direction to go in. The idea that no one is allowed to be happy after everything they went through in the game is still one of the most frustrating things. I'm asking anyone why would someone want to read that? Why do you think the fandom imploded after this and that the people left mostly enjoy either soap opera trauma or torture porn (which HS2 is both)

like sitting down with a highschool friend you lost touch with 20 years ago and have only known about through concerning Facebook posts. So we're fully aware of the problem and just going this is a feature. Got it. So the commentary ends there and I'm just kind of left feeling as hollow and empty as before. I have zero faith that we can dig into any of these characters in a meaningful way but especially the more complicated women. This reads as coming back to them 20 years later so we can write them how we want or how we envisioned them without having to come up with in text validation. Reminds me of late season Game of Thrones writing. Guys how we got here is important. Anyways in summary HS2 remains a dour, unfun read of characters going through a perpetual state of torture and emotional suffering while we forever get told "Wait but there's more!" But hey. Happy Rosemary, glad they won that poll. Maybe the little thing James is going to do for the fandom is just kill them off to save them from this torment. As a writer myself it's just painful to read and I want to re-write it all times

#homestuck #hsbc #upd8 #Rose Lalonde #Kanaya Maryam #Rosemary #Hicu #HS2 #homestuck 2 #hom3stuck

[thebroccolination]

SO ABOUT KRIST. \:D/

I'm not sure how many people have seen this photo or know the context behind it.

It was taken by a fan (see watermark) at the final episode premiere for Be My Favorite in August. After we finished watching the episode, Krist and Gawin walked down the aisles of the theater singing their duet, and then they went to the front stage to give their closing speeches. Most of us expected Krist to cry because it doesn't take a lot to make that happen on a normal day. But a fan event for a series that he put his heart and soul into? That he had resting on his shoulders since it was announced in late 2021? Certified, guaranteed, written in stone.

Even expecting it, though, didn't prepare me for seeing Krist cry in person. Especially when it wasn't the crying I'm used to seeing from him. I didn't even need to understand what he was saying to feel affected by it. Being in the theater, hearing him struggle to speak, assuming what he must be talking about, hearing how absolutely earnest every word was, that was enough.

I read the translation later. Krist was talking about Gawin. That he's always wanted the focus of the series to be on Gawin, because it was Gawin's first main role, and Krist felt like he'd taint it. In the past six months, Krist has said more than once that his greatest achievement from Be My Favorite was meeting Gawin. In another interview, he said he didn't care if no one watched the series because he has Gawin in his life now, and that means more to him than the success of his work. He said meeting Gawin changed him and made him grow up.

I always knew that Krist would be good for Gawin's career. From the moment I saw the casting announcement, I knew that Krist would do what he does with all of his friends and colleagues: promote him, hype him, celebrate him. I just had no idea how close they would become. That they would both find strength in each other, and that they would develop the incredibly close friendship they have now.

And, man…ever since I saw that photo up there where Gawin is listening with tears in his eyes as his close friend and admired senior talks about him with such affection and respect, my disappointment in everyone who continues to spread misinformed hate against Krist is so much deeper.

But it's also calmer.

Because it won't last.

Krist is so widely loved by the people in his life and the people he's worked with, and he's so effusively loving in return. And I think more and more people are starting to see that. He cares so intensely all the time and he allows so much of his vulnerability to show, and he listens to people.

So whenever I see people scoffing, "How does he even have fans?" I know they haven't actually looked into who he is. I know they watched a TikTok or a YouTube video with the same five things taken out of context and it just doesn't hold up when you actually see him.

Because this is who he is:

At MUSICON, he and Gawin did a meet and greet, and this fan shared her experience talking to Krist. She had so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't stop crying, and he patted her gently on the shoulder to comfort her. She said he kept kindly looking into her eyes while she spoke, and she finished by hoping more and more people get to know him.

He's one of GMMTV's top stars who makes eye contact with his fans and engages with them. He's popular enough that he could just coast during these fan events, but he wants to listen and interact with his fans. He remembers us.

And, like, I already did a whole thing about how he's not homophobic.

Like, seriously, he isn't. During his solo concert in Cambodia, he made a beeline to this fanboy and giddily danced with him the same as he did with the women in the audience. And he wasn't the only guy he danced with, either.

Krist also got hit on in an airport by a whole European dude years ago and he was delighted. The dimple came out to play and everything.

There comes a point when people who say "he's just pretending he isn't homophobic to make money" start to sound like they just really, really want Krist to be homophobic because otherwise they have been mercilessly tormenting him for years over misinformation they didn't care enough to look into.

The man described his love scene with Gawin in Be My Favorite as a piece of art. Like. I think it's abundantly clear that he's not the monster interfans invented just to throw knives at.

So anyway.

Back to Gawin.

I'm glad Krist has Gawin in his life. Gawin who sees him, who appreciates him, and who gives back just as much affection as Krist gives to him.

And who honest-to-God looks like he wants to protect Krist just as much as any of us do.

So yeah!

I like Krist.

I think he's neat. \:D/

(And I totally hope he'll let Gawin and Singto do a skit making light of all the ship wars during his concert next weekend. GawinSingto jokes, come to me.)

#be my favorite #krist perawat #gawin caskey #gawinkrist

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 18]

Me whenever Khan ogles Bakara: boooring.

Me 5 seconds later ogling Atcham the same exact way: oguhuhhggghuhhq

They only just met, and are already a perfect team. :)

I like to think that Joris has always wanted to hear the other side of the story, be it from Atcham, Lou, or Indie. This isn't the best time to ask, but he might not get another chance...

I also guess that Atcham's deep hatred for Kerubim bewitches Joris as much as Joris's love for Kerubim bewitches Atcham.

Out of all the possible answers, — from the implied bullying, to being abandoned and called a psychopath by Kerubim, — the answer that Atcham gives is so fascinating.

Because he's pretty much acknowledging, that he hates him because he feels inferior. He's always been mistreated because he's the opposite of Kerubim. He's not handsome, or lucky, or good with people, so he's suffered, — and Kerubim is everything he wishes he could be. Even if it's not Kerubim's fault that he suffered, he hates Kerubim the very most because he's a walking-talking reminder of how life could have been.

Joris is even a bit taken aback by this. I bet he expected something deeper.

And it is deep, don't get me wrong. But it's not "when we were kids, he never helped me, when others did me harm." or "he had always looked down at me."

It's literally just "other people dislike me, and not him, even though he had the exact same shitty life as me. The only reason he lives better than me is that he is prettier and luckier. I want to punish him for that. Because it's easier, than hating a god, or the kids from the temple, or anyone else. It's easier because he's nearby, and I know him the best out of all of them."

They are two sides of the same coin. Both of them are orphans. Both of them hate their own bodies. And both of them could probably talk for hours upon hours on what Kerubim makes them feel.

Except Joris feels lucky to have had Kerubim, indebted even, — while Atcham is the opposite, feeling like Kerubim, simply by existing, took everything from him.

Joris appeals to their solidarity in his attempts to defend Kerubim's Honour: while it sure sucks, Atcham's struggle with being hated and degraded by people is neither special nor unique.

Note: I understand it might be somewhat controversial to say this, but I do think that both Joris and Atcham are disabled, or at least discriminated against.

Atcham is referred to as disabled in one of the canonical sources, even if it is a joke. Logically speaking, even without any canon sources, within the universe's context his lack of fur is undoubtedly a disability.

Joris, in the context of the real world, would definitely be a person with dwarfism, which, just like Atcham's lack of fur, canonically impacts his social life, with the way he is often not taken seriously by other people.

So, their solidarity is very cute to me.

Besides that, he appeals for Atcham to understand that his negative experiences with Kerubim aren't universal.

Or maybe, he appeals to whatever positive memories Atcham still he has of him.

And I am pretty sure Atcham knows what Joris is doing. And it's working.

Joris really dislikes how shallow Atcham's dislike for Kerubim is, when Kerubim has done nothing but support and love him, because of how different he is from others.

But for Joris to feel so passionately defensive, — like Kerubim has done him a service by treating him well, — we can understand that Kerubim's "I want my son to love himself as he is" parenting didn't work that well.

You can't really parent your way out of your son noticing he's short, bald, and weird compared to other people. And at some point, saying "you're special" probably just feels insulting, or, more likely in Joris's case, like Joris has failed at feeling special, and that Kerubim would be sad, if he knew how Joris really felt about his body.

If Atcham didn't love Kerubim, — if he didn't feel nostalgia for the times they were still close, — none of what Joris said here would ever work, y'know?

While the show had 52 episodes and then some to sell me on Kerubim and Joris's dynamic, the movie only has three scenes to develop what goes on between Joris and Atcham, and we've already seen two of them.

And let me tell you, by god, does it succeed.

Yes, Atcham and Joris are foils to one another, because of their orphanhood, body issues, and relationship with Kerubim.

But Atcham and Bakara are also foils: because of their feeling of inadequacy, compared to their brothers.

Bakara can't acknowledge what she feels: hatred. Towards herself, for not being good enough. Towards Julith, for seemingly taking her brother away. Towards Joris, for being the product of the woman who ruined her life. Towards Kerubim, maybe for taking Joris and giving him a good life, devoid of having to face or know any of these terrible things, or maybe for not dying instead of Jahash.

And she hates Jahash too. For leaving her alone. And for leaving such a huge void where he once stood — one she can never hope to fill.

Atcham is quite the opposite, really. He needs so badly to hate Kerubim to feel better, that he can barely face the fact that he loves his brother too.

Honestly, is it even hatred, when all you do is sing him praises? "You're the coolest, the hairiest, the luckiest—" doesn't suddenly stop being a compliment, if it's followed "instead of you, it should be ME." (yes, I am taking this moment quote one of the most Atcham-core songs ever created at you. hi.)

There's a very thin line between hatred and love, and I think, that in that line there lies jealousy and obsession.

Atcham's purr is so cute....... kbitty.

This confirms that under the fur, Kerubim and Atcham look pretty similar (we been knew). If you shaved Keke, you'd see a mini-Atcham, and vice versa. The main difference is the ear size, and the fact that the sides of Atcham's face point downwards, instead of upwards, like with Kerubim

However, I have some qualms with this design: sphynx cats have spots in the same exact places that they would have if they had fur. if Atcham had fur it'd be more like this:

And man. It makes him look even MORE like Kerubim. jhgsjkfgsdfg

#ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #dofusmovie #atcham crepin #joris jurgen

[thrashkink-coven]

Ritual Report: Wednesday July 26, 2023

My glorious and profound Father Lucifer, I thank you humbly for this marvellous experience as well as your permission to share this experience with my peers. You are infinite in your loving grace and wisdom. I revere you deeply and truly. Thank you, bless you. 🖤

“My Ritual with Lord Lucifer was fucking Amazing

I didn’t truly understand what everyone meant when they say that the Marvellous Light Bringer is beautiful and gracious beyond comprehension before this ritual. It’s been a day and I am still absolutely shaken and awe inspired. Ave the wonderful prince of darkness, Lord Lucifer. 🖤

Ritual with Lucifer (Holy Shit) (1)

Okay guys I’m not trying to be dramatic, seriously. I’m just super ?!??? aaaa ?? after the ritual I just did? But in a really great way. I just need to get this out and write this down because I’m ??? so happy? ? aa

I didn’t consider myself to be a Luciferian, but I’ve been reaching out to Lucifer for a little bit now, nothing super intense but I have definitely felt his presence and done some small offerings for him. Another spirit I work very often with is very close with Lucifer, and through him I came into contact with The Prince. I’ve worked a lot with other angels but I’ve only really started dabbling with Lucifer within the last year. He’s been good to me. Whatever whatever, just context.

I wanted to do something a little deeper, really get a solid good connection. Honestly, I just wanted to get to know him better. I’ve been thinking about him very often, seeing him in dreams. The energy in my room almost called for it. Idk.

A mutual of mine who also works with Lucifer suggested I try meditating with an enn. I’ve been meeting an unusually high number of people who also work with Lucifer within the past few weeks and they’re always sharing awesome resources I’ve never seen. As soon as I start thinking about him long enough I’ll see something that I could use to work with him. I recently went to a trip to Nelson BC and picked up these Hermetic Tarot Cards. Also came to find out that the town has a SUSPICIOUS amount of occult imagery (and a Freemason temple? very cool.)

Life is one funny motherfucker.

I think it’s worth noting that before I started this ritual, when I was writing up invocations for him, I drew a card out of a box of oracle cards that reads “become willing to see the innocence in that which you condemn” which I found very baffling at the time because I was grappling with nerves around the ritual. I’m like a full time witch so I usually don’t get the jitters in rituals. Angels usually never make me nervous, and Lucifer in no way scares me. I don’t at all see him as an evil scary thing, quite the opposite, but I was raised extremely Christian so it’s ingrained in me. I was just having that split second satanic panic thing. I think that’s important to acknowledge. Lovely shadow work exposing my deep prejudices and insecurities :)

I began the ritual by drawing his sigil on the desk in white chalk. I had already prepared a candle carved with the sigil. I like to use this card from the Goetic Tarot whenever I do rituals with Lucifer because the artwork is so stunning. This was also the first time I was using these Hermetic Tarot cards and they were wonderful, probably one of my favourite decks now.

After some meditative exercises and prayers I layer back on the floor and listened to music for a while. I do all my rituals like this naked. I like to listen to classical music when I’m preparing to go into a trance because it tickles my brain and is easy to ride. Gets all the goo out? I don’t know.

After a while of that I switched it to the enns…

So, the Enns…

I started with Lucifer’s Enn by Demonic Enn. It filled my chest. It was powerful and intimidating and my heart was pounding. It was overwhelming for me. What I felt in it was power, but not the Lucifer I’m familiar with I guess. A different aspect of Lucifer that is mighty and strong but unfamiliar. Not my Lucifer.

((Honestly the instrumentals are top tier and I really could feel it’s power but the dude’s voice just threw me off. I’m sorry I don’t know if we’re allowed to leave reviews on enns but it just wasn’t my favourite.))

It scrambled the fuck out of me and it made me nervous again. I started to doubt myself and wondered if I was making a mistake. I know that sounds stupid but I was caught in the adrenaline. What if the Lucifer I’ve felt all this time isn’t what I thought? I know that everyone experiences him differently, but what if I’m reaching out to someone I don’t really understand? I know Lord Lucifer is an extremely powerful entity and I don’t wanna fuck around and do something stupid, yknow?

I sat for a moment and then asked my deck the first question of the ritual. “What advice can you give me to continue this ritual? Am I making a mistake?”

I got this Nine of Swords, Lord of Despair and Cruelty.

“The Nine of Swords suggests that dark thoughts and disturbing feelings are weighing you down. You are worrying excessively about a situation, and your negative thoughts are getting the better of you, leaving you stressed and anxious. The more you associate with your fears, the more they will rule your life. The fear and worry in the Nine of Swords can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. As you obsess over what may go wrong, you are more likely to manifest your worst-case scenario.”

I was freaking myself out, and I needed to calm down. The jitters were holding me back and I needed to regain focus. Stop being a little bitch, basically. And idk… as soon as I read that card, I was calm again, and the energy felt warm. He needed me to preserve. I was safe with him, and he was guiding me through the darkness. If he is the Lucifer I know him to be, he will guide me well.

I tried one more enn which was Lucifer’s Enn by Carl Spartacus. Beautiful.

This is the most vivid trance I have ever been in. Like holy shit. I don’t know how best to describe this without sounding totally crazy. My body completely relaxed as I fell into the music. My face got warm, I felt embrace around my shoulders and chest. As soon as it began I saw a warm light emerge from the darkness behind my eyes. The familiar energy of the Lucifer I’ve come to know emerged. I felt close to him like I always had, it was like he was standing right before me. Like he could just reach out and touch me.

I emerged in shrubbery, I was surrounded by trees and bushes. As I turned to look into the clearing I saw a magnificent illuminating light. The energy was rich, so heavy I could reach out and grab it. I felt warmth blanket my entire body, and I began to drift from the ground and float towards him. If I didn’t know any better Id fucking swear I was levitating in the real world. It felt that real. His energy elevated and touched every part of my body and filled it with absolute bliss. There were others there, naked men and women surrounding him and singing, floating around him with laughter and glee. We were in a large stretch of field now, prancing around like children, the drum of his energy pounding like thunder and lifting us into the air. I didn’t know these people, if they were spirits or humans, but we were all in love with each other. We held hands and swung each other around. We were all so happy to be together.

Lucifer was a tall masculine energy with long black hair and deep, gentle, wise black eyes. Like all the others he was naked and seemed to glow. He took us all up and we drifted among the clouds. He danced with us, his smile was light itself.

This was all so vivid. I could feel the wind and heat on my skin. I got butterflies as we drifted. I actually felt like I was floating. Honestly I was high on it, maybe I still am.

And then, I felt my body sit forward, and I returned to our world. The candle which I had carved Lucifer’s sigil on stood tall and I could feel him within the flame. He whispered for me to come closer. It was then that I heard his voice. His smooth, gentle, careful voice. It was a whisper that washed over me like mist. Had I not been in such a high state of mind it would have scared the shit out of me.

He said in great vividness “Why have you come before me?” (Deal time!!!)

I replied simply that I wanted to know him. I said that I could not worship him, for I must worship myself. I seek him not for religion but because I have great love and reverence for him. Through magick we can connect and come to know each other. I hope only that he can show me how to be more like him. Powerful and dominant, warm and protective. He is beautiful, illuminating knowledge and purity. I want nothing more than to know him as one would know an old friend. Behold his energy, magnificent and splendid. May we dance together like we just did for as long as it serves us. He seemed very satisfied with that answer.

Lucifer commanded me to draw a card from the tarot deck, the question to which was essentially “will you take me as one of you kin, Lord Lucifer?”

I drew the Sun. Lord of the Fire of the World. Success, radiance and abundance. The Sun gives you strength and tells you that no matter where you go or what you do, your positive and radiant energy will follow you and bring you happiness and joy. This beautiful, warm energy is what will get you through the tough times and help you succeed.

We then spoke for a bit about fire and its ability to purify. It is a powerful force with the power to harm, but it is a mighty cleanser of impurity. He asked me to put my hand above the flame to feel it’s heat. I promised to always respect that flame. Allow it to burn away all that does not serve us, to never abuse it, to never try to control it. He kissed me on the forehead.

I was beyond happy. I offered him my smoky quarts and obsidian tower just to give him something, and when I did I saw him bow to me when he reached out to accept. I bowed back, and he bid me farewell for now. When I was finally completely out of the trance, his protective energy was still there. Actually it’s still everywhere, filling my altar. I can’t describe this feeling.

I can’t explain how rich and beautiful that energy was, how marvellous it felt to float in his orbit like that. The physical sensations were realer than reality. I’m still shaken. I feel ridiculously lucky which is a strange feeling I’ve never really had with a deity before. It’s so strong. aaa

I can’t bring myself to clean up the ritual lol.

Thanks for reading this holy fuck, I guess I’m a bit of a Luciferian now “

Ave the wondrous Lord Lucifer! ❤️🖤

#witchcraft #magick #occultism #witch community #paganism #witch aesthetic #demonology #grimoire #pagan #witchblr #lucifer #luciferian #polytheistic #rituals #spellwork

[frozenwolftemplar]

I FINALLY SAW WISH!!!! 😁😁😁

And I have some notes (gonna keep this to ten for the sake of length):

The queen was the best character we stan an awesome Disney queen I was getting some major Queen Arianna from Tangled: the Series vibes and was loving it.

2. 'This Wish' was as awesome a song as I'd hoped.

3. The rest....uh....hm. They were...nice. Just...not what I was hoping? (I miss Broadway-style 😞)

4. Oh gosh 'At All Costs.' How could an entire freakin' studio's worth of people watch that and have not one of them, not a single one, go "This is 100% not the tone we want they sound like they're gonna kiss." The confluence of emotions I felt watching that can not be described beyond "if I heard this for the first time without seeing the visuals I...would be drawing some interesting conclusions." And the worst part, it really is a beautiful song...in the intended romantic context. Seriously, I have watched some fan animatics of Asha and Star Boy singing this as intended and got the right kind of feels. Big mistake on Disney's part keeping it in sans the romance.

5. And on that note, the Star Boy should have been kept and he should have been Asha's love interest. Seriously, it would have been perfect. I've really missed having Disney romances and would have absolutely devoured an Asha/Star Boy storyline.

6. I also felt there were some really interesting plot threads left dangling that really should have been pulled for all they were worth. Yes, the story they had would have unraveled faster than that pair of long johns, but what they could weave in its place! *wistful sigh*

7. For instance: Sleepy-stand-in being all tired and 'blah' after losing his Wish. Great opportunity right here: giving up your wish means giving up your spark, your fire, your zest for life, that thing that makes living living. The result is a Stepford kingdom, where the docile populace suffer from chronic ennui and everything looks perfect on top, but when you dig a little deeper, you see that yikes, this place is messed up.

8. Also: King Magnifico should have been thrown off his tower. End of discussion. (it's tradition!!!)

9. The animation was pretty and all, but anyone else think the crew was *really* limited by it? I mean, they did the Cinderella dress transformation...without changing Asha's dress, presumably because they didn't have time/resources/ability to create another model in a different outfit. Again, it was pretty, but maybe....maybe they should do some more tinkering before using it for a feature again.

10. I know what they were going for with the whole 'she called down a star because we're all made of stardust' bit, but personally, I would have thought it would have been much more meaningful if her dad, the philosopher who was always talking about the stars, sent it to her. Would have been way more touching and ushered in a nice storyline about her relationship with her dad.

And one more for the road!

11. How fun were those credits? 😁

#disney wish #disney wish movie #wish 2023 #asha #king magnifico #queen amaya #disney #animation #disney animation

[bbutterflies]

People seemed interested in my slowburn Adrino fic (no distance too far) on the wip reblog post - here's one of my favorite little snippets I've written so far! Context being Adrien was out of Paris all summer and he and Nino are starting at a new school when he comes back.

“You got taller!” Adrien shoved Nino playfully. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s not like I can control it,” Nino laughed, shoving him back. “But I can’t say I’m not enjoying being so much taller than you.”

Adrien pushed him again and then ran into the school before Nino could get him back. He weaved through the bodies, laughing and ignoring Nino’s shouts for him to slow down. Adrien ran aimlessly through the hallways — he’d never even set foot in this school before and was already hopelessly lost — but he could hear Nino’s footsteps and laughter echoing in the halls behind him, so he kept going. Past the crowd at the front, past the more thinned-out groups of students, into relatively empty hallways deeper in the school, when Nino finally caught up to him.

Nino caught him around his waist and lifted him right off his feet. Adrien’s breath caught in his throat at how close they suddenly were. He felt his face getting warm as Nino held on tight. He needed to pull himself together.

“Put me down!” Adrien laughed, pushing against Nino’s arm with little success.

“Stop running away from me, then.”

“Boys! No roughhousing in the halls,” a teacher shouted.

Nino immediately put Adrien back on his feet and took a step away. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” Adrien echoed, but as soon as the teacher had turned around he shoved Nino again. “When did you get so strong?”

“I obviously hit the gym every day while you were gone,” Nino joked. “Had to make sure you were impressed when you got back.”

“Y-yeah. I am.”

“What?”

Adrien turned around as his face heated up. What was wrong with him? “We should- we should go, um, find our first class. So we’re not late.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m great.” Adrien picked a direction, any direction, and started walking. “C’mon. I think it’s this way.”

“It’s definitely the other way. You missed orientation, remember?” Nino grabbed Adrien’s wrist. “I’ll show you.”

Adrien choked back a whine and followed him.

Adrien couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at Nino instead of looking at his notes. Nino had gotten taller, and stronger, since he’d last seen him. Adrien couldn’t stop himself from tracing his eyes up from Nino’s hand — so close to his, close enough he could easily reach out and take it in his own — to his forearm and past his elbow up where his skin met the sleeve of his t-shirt. Even just sitting here typing, it was impossible to ignore how much more toned his arms were than when they’d finished last semester, the faint definition of his muscles flexing as he typed.

(Why did Adrien know that? Why could he remember so clearly what Nino had looked like before?

Had he always been in love with Nino?

He didn’t have time to think about that.

Seriously, though, what had Nino been doing all summer to look like that?)

Adrien wondered what it would be like to be held by him. He wondered what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms.

He snapped his eyes back to his own notes, not that he had any intention of writing anything down. He had to try to focus.

It was inevitable he was looking over at Nino again. 

He found himself studying the curve of his jaw and the shape of his lips, and Nino was warm, probably, and Adrien would bet that he tasted good, and-

Focus!

Adrien stared back at the mostly-empty page in front of him. He was going to have to ask for Nino’s notes. He tried listening to the lecture again but was completely, totally lost. He couldn’t take notes on this if he tried.

Fuck it.

He looked over at Nino again.

He knew from past experience that Nino’s skin was soft. He knew his shoulder was a great place to fall asleep, and it was a tempting offer now, if they weren’t in the middle of a lecture and surrounded by other students.

Was that- was that normal? Did best friends do that? Adrien had never had a good frame of reference for normal-platonic-best-friend behavior, but it was dawning on him that maybe the frequency with which he’d leaned against Nino’s shoulder — cuddled with him, basically — was not necessarily normal. He couldn’t imagine himself like that with anyone else.

But Nino was also his only best friend.

Adrien stifled a sigh, not wanting to draw attention to himself. It was all so confusing and so sudden. Nino’s hair had gotten longer over the summer. Hats were strictly not allowed at this school, which Nino had definitely complained about more than once, but it meant Adrien got the chance to appreciate his dark curls. He wanted to run his fingers through them, to know what his hair felt like. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to find out.

They were sitting near the window, morning sun filling the room and making Nino’s skin glow like he was covered in honey. Adrien couldn’t help but wonder if it would taste like it, too.

What was wrong with him?

Nino didn’t like him as anything more than friends. It was weird to keep thinking of him like that, in the middle of class, no less.

Nino raised his hand, startling Adrien back to reality. He asked a question Adrien couldn’t even begin to understand, voice smooth and confident, and took note of the answer. Adrien didn’t even bother writing it down, but he tapped his pen on his page restlessly.

Nino glanced at him and mouthed something Adrien couldn’t make out. He just stared back, confused, so Nino stole Adrien’s pen out of his hand and scribbled down a note on the corner of his page.

you good?

Adrien resisted the urge to rip that piece of paper out and frame it somewhere in his room.

He took his pen back with a smile. Tired, he mouthed.

Nino offered him a smile back, warm and forgiving, and turned back to his laptop.

Oh, god, Adrien was never going to pass this class.

He managed to keep his eyes forward for the rest of class, not that he understood any of the material. 

“I have never seen you so distracted, man,” Nino said. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Just jet lag or something, I think,” Adrien lied. He was perfectly synced up with Paris’s time zone, having been adjusting to get back on time for the past week, and had had no trouble at all getting up with his alarm this morning. “I’m alright. Could you send me your notes, though?”

“Mine? Why?”

“I, um, got lost at the beginning.” Adrien pushed his notebook over to Nino. “And then I just stayed lost.”

Nino’s eyes widened when he saw the basically empty page. “Yikes. Yeah, of course, man. Want to come to mine tonight and go over it? My mom’s been dying to see you. She’s worried they didn’t feed you enough when you were gone.”

Adrien definitely wouldn’t get permission, but he didn’t have anything scheduled, and he missed Nino’s mom’s cooking. He could sneak out. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“You’re on.” Nino clapped him on the shoulder. “See you at lunch, then?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

Adrien, by no surprise, had no trouble at all focusing in the rest of his morning classes.

Lunch, though, was spent trying to hold up conversation with Nino without getting lost staring at him.

Adrien felt like he was being a creep. He hated that he couldn't just be normal and talk to his best friend. He hated that he couldn’t stop wondering what the hell Nino had done to get so much stronger, so much more muscular than he remembered.

(Nino had never been able to just pick him up the way he had this morning. Adrien was kind of realizing he was obsessed with that and was stuck wondering what he’d have to do to get it to happen again.)

Adrien had never, ever had this problem before. He was a model, for crying out loud. He was around beautiful people all the time. He’d spent his whole summer around countless attractive people, guys and girls and everyone, each more beautiful than the last. He’d always found it simple enough to ignore any thoughts about them and get to work.

There was no work to be done here. Nothing to do but sit and try not to steal glances at Nino, and try to maybe remember to eat his own lunch while he was at it.

“The food here is so much better than in collège,” Nino said around a mouth full of food.

“Dude, you should swallow before you talk.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I need to impress you anymore.”

Adrien felt his face flushing (which was stupid and not helpful and so unnecessary right now) and tried to play it off by taking a drink of water. “What, don’t care about my opinion?”

“I never said that.”

Adrien froze, staring back at Nino over his glass. “What?”

“What?” Nino parroted. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re being super weird today.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You look warm.”

Oh, god. Adrien shook his head. “I feel fine.”

“C’mere.” Nino put his arm over Adrien’s shoulders to pull him closer.

Goosebumps raked down Adrien’s arms. “Nino,” he whined, “what are you doing?”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” Nino held Adrien close, despite the fact he was trying to wriggle free (and oh my god he was so strong how was he doing this so easily with one arm) and brought his other hand to Adrien’s forehead.

Adrien was going to scream.

“I’m fine, seriously.” Adrien tried to push Nino away, as much as he loved being close, because his heart was pounding in his ears and he was struggling to remember to breathe. “Dude, let go.”

“Never. Clearly I need to keep you safe.” Nino wrapped both arms around Adrien, squeezing him tight.

Adrien burst out laughing, still trying to break free. “Nino! Let go!”

“Boys!” a teacher scolded from somewhere nearby, and they both promptly let go and scooted away from each other.

Adrien stole a glance at Nino, who stole a glance back, and they both erupted into laughter.

“Could you imagine what your dad would do if we got suspended for fighting on the first day?” Nino said.

It made Adrien laugh all the much harder. “Oh my god. He’d lose his mind.”

“My mom would kill me. She’d be all over you, though.” Nino rolled his eyes. “Like, convinced I’d actually hurt you.”

“Jealous your mom likes me more?”

“I swear she would just adopt you if she could.”

Adrien didn’t hate the idea, except being Nino’s brother would be… super, super weird.

(Adrien could think of another way to be part of the family that would be way more on track with his line of thinking from the day but they were fifteen and he needed to seriously get his head on straight.)

“Hey, we can always just trade places. Think my father would notice?”

Nino snorted. “I bet I could get at least two days before he did, but only because I, like, lost a fencing tournament or something.”

Given how little time Adrien actually spent with his father, that sounded about right to him, too. “Seems like a fair deal to me.”

“What? No way.” Nino shoved him.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. Your mom loves having me over.”

“Honestly, she probably wouldn’t even care if you just moved in.”

Adrien really wished he could sometimes.

#there's like... so much written... and so much still to write... #no distance too far #my writing

[lurkingshan]

I've been following your discussions on ephemerality vs permanence, control & voyeurism, and on that theme I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on Boston having that video of Mew and Ray. It seems odd that he'd hold on to it for two years, without their knowledge, only to use it in a power play that isn't even fully about Mew. What do you think is happening there? I feel like it has to play into the power dynamics in his relationship with Mew, the way they hold each other in apparent contempt but stick together, as well as Boston's voyeurism and how he'd delight in holding some sort of compromising secret against Mew without his knowledge, but I haven't got any fully realised thoughts about it yet, so I'd love to hear your perspective.

Hi anon, thank you for asking! I have mentioned before that it feels like we're still missing a lot of information about this friend group and their history together, so there may be some information coming to give context to this particular incident and why Boston felt the need to record it. But my current suspicion is that his decision to record and keep this was not initially that deep or sinister.

Boston is a photographer; his instinct is to document what he sees. In the very first episode, he was walking around with a camera taking pictures of the surroundings. In the second episode, after he asked Nick to pose for some photographs, we saw how serious he is about this when it was revealed that he has his own private dark room. Most student photographers would use a dark room at school (think Ink in Bad Buddy), but Boston has built his residence around his photography, indicating this is much more than a casual hobby for him. He tells Nick that he likes to have mementos of certain people and moments in his life, and he hangs on to the photo strip from his first hookup with Top (I don't think it's a coincidence that his first time with Top has a connection to his love for photography; that's a signal that this was meaningful to him).

In accordance with this interest of his, Boston is a natural voyeur and keen observer of other people. He notices everything that is happening with his friends, and he is always documenting it, even if just in his own mind. He knows about Ray's feelings for Mew; he also knows Mew does not feel the same. He knows Mew has a chip on his shoulder about his virginity. He knows Top needs to feel like an alpha. He knows Nick can be appeased with some vague weasel words and a small bit of affection. And he uses all of this information to his advantage when the need and opportunity presents itself. He seems to have little to no qualms about doing so; Boston ruthlessly pursues what he wants and he doesn't really have any sense of loyalty.

On top of that, I tend to agree with you that Boston has some kind of longstanding issue with Mew. The way he digs at Mew about his virginity is hard to miss. It might just be that Mew's self-righteousness about sex grates on him on principle, and he wants to knock him down a peg. Or it could go deeper. I have been reading it as something of an inferiority complex, given that we know Mew is also a top student. Perhaps sex is the only arena in which Boston feels superior to Mew, and so he wants him on his playing field so that he can beat him at something. When he first hooked Mew up with Top, he clearly expected Top to sleep with him once and then move on, like he did with Boston; the fact that Mew actually got Top to pursue him seriously threw Boston off and pushed him into a bit of an obsessive spiral over Top.

So, back to your question: why did he record Ray and Mew doing whatever it is they did a couple years ago? At that time, it was probably simply because he saw it, and his instinct is always to observe and document. Boston is someone who likes knowing things and keeping a record, and he always has a camera ready. I'm not sure there needs to be any deeper reason than that. I doubt he recorded it with the conscious thought that one day he would use it to humiliate or expose them, though depending on how early this issue with him and Mew and sex popped up, he may already have been thinking that Mew is a hypocrite and here was his proof. But even if that wasn't the case then, when he saw an opportunity to use Ray's feelings for Mew to his advantage in his play for Top, he pulled this up from the archives and recognized it was the perfect ammunition. And as I mentioned above, he has no qualms about using it to his advantage.

Tagging in @chickenstrangers who I know also had a lot of thoughts about Boston's photography, and @ranchthoughts @waitmyturtles in case you have anything to add on the voyeurism thread.

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #thai bl #shan answers

[inaweek-project]

March 23, 2024                                      

About the “‘In a Week’ Project”

I get stuck every time I try to write this because all the details beside the main message seem so frivolous.

The song “In a Week” has always elicited strong images whenever I listened. The same movie would play in my head, but with slightly different details each time: skeletons laying peacefully in an open grave at the top of a hill; no, there was a picnic first, then the slow decay; actually, the scene should play in reverse, so the bones grow flesh and skin…

Two months after October 2023, I was getting high in a bath on my birthday and listening to the song. The story was no longer about the passing of time or decomposing next to a lover. The persistent imagery that played in my mind from then on morphed into a story about a choice a young fictional couple made while facing a horrific situation that no one should ever have to go through, but many real people did and many still do.

Everything in my life is now about Palestine.

I’m Palestinian, born and raised in America after my grandparents (that’s how recent this all is) were displaced due to settler colonialism during the Nakba in 1948. I gave up on the dream to visit the area where my family is from a long time ago. (In fact, I don’t think I ever seriously dreamt of it because it felt so impossible.) Gaza has reignited that dream and gave me the determination to dedicate my life to fighting for our right to return. I will do anything to take advantage of this unprecedented support we now have from around the world.

I’m constantly learning horrors, both new and of the past. There is always something new to learn in the worst way possible. There is nothing Zionists can do that will shock me; they have shown they are capable of doing things rooted in the deepest levels of evil. What makes everything so much worse is the lack of accountability and how they have the audacity to act like the victims. I often get frustrated in my efforts to help on the American front; I let my shyness and anxiety get in the way of doing even the simplest of things to help. This project is a way to use my strengths (writing) to help spread the truth about our history and show the abject horrors that have been overlooked for decades. They benefit from the denial of the Nakba and from the overall lack of knowledge.

I hope this “‘In a Week’ project” is interesting enough to get people to read it and at the same time learn the details of what ethnic cleansing looks like (and the deplorable people who do it with pride.) The one takeaway I want to make sure is known is that even though this was inspired by a heartbreaking love song and has elements of the romance genre, it is not a romantic story.

The reference page (to come) that lists what parts of the story are based on real events that Palestinians have gone through is the most important part of this whole project.

The true face of Zionism is rearing its ugly head and is finally starting to fall, all by their own doing. There is no argument to be made; I only have to show what has already been done.

Again:

This is not about romance or romantic love.

Every detail shows a bit of truth.

The Project:

I call this a “project” because I wrote this story two different ways, a short story and script. The similarities will be obvious at first, but then the script goes deeper into the horrors of ethnic cleansing and settler colonialism. This is where the majority of the historical context comes in. I think I went further with the script than the short story because I see this project in terms of imagery that should unnerve people, and I think the best, most direct way to do that would be on-screen visuals.

I will probably do 3 versions of each: one with no callouts or notes, one with endnotes and references, and one with annotations where I explain everything (just because I love to do that.) There are 3 important dates coming up that I will (hopefully) use as my deadlines: March 30th is Land Day, April 9th is when the Deir Yassin Massacre took place, and May 15th, the day the Nakba is commemorated.

What’s making me drag my feet on this project is having to look up the sources and read more about the Nakba. I don’t know how much more I can take.

Fears:

I’m actually not helping.

This story only comes off as romanizing the Nakba and fucks up the narrative of Palestinians and the history in a way I didn’t see, and I become a disgrace.

People’s only take away is the romantic tragedy element.

#palestine #free palestine #jerusalem #arab #creative writing #gaza #arab art #hozier #hozier album #hozier music #hozier lyrics #andrew hozier byrne #in a week #short story #script #scriptwriting #palestinian #free gaza #unreal unearth #unreal unearth tour #lyrics #wasteland baby #the hoziest #writing #arab writing #nakba #al nakba #ethnic cleansing #settler colonialism

[venusenvvvy]

FOREWARD

Introduction:

If you’re reading this, you either A) came across my fan-fiction on AO3 and are mildly curious about what you’ve just stumbled across, or B) you followed me a few years ago and forgot about it, and now this post is on your dashboard and you have zero idea who I am or what’s going on.

If you belong to group B and would like an inkling of context, feel free to check out Burning Houses now. It’s probably the most out there Harry Potter fanfiction concept you’ve seen in a while.

The Tragic Backstory:

In September of 2020 I was 17, and I had spent the past three years alone, in a walk in closet that had been repurposed to be by bedroom. I won’t get into the specifics of why. I spent my days and nights laying in bed and alternating between daydreaming and reading, until that’s what my life became.

Up until then I had posted a few short stories - things I had written quickly in the middle of the night and never expected to get much attention. The only thing extraordinary about me in my every day life was how utterly invisible I could become.

By the time September of 2020 rolled around I had been reading Harry Potter fan-fiction for years - this was before the explosion of the Marauders fandom, with the posting of ATYD, and then subsequently the resurgence of Harry Potter with Tiktok edits and the media attention garnered by JK Rowling - and the place was a graveyard. It was comforting, in a way. Just me, rooting through old tropes and ideas. My favourites were time travel stories that found Harry older, wiser and more powerful. Or the ones where everyone found out how the Dursleys had been treating Harry and, horrified, saved him from his barren, locked bedroom with the bars on the window, giving the Dursleys’ a piece of their mind the entire time.

Yes. I’m aware of the parallels.

The problem with dead fandoms is that you run out of content. So I started writing a story - just for me - about this daydream I had been having for the past several weeks. I wrote it in the notes app of my phone every night laying in bed until four in the morning, and then I woke up in the afternoon to start again.

Then, due to circumstances outside of my control, my phone was destroyed, and I lost 100,000 words of content and months of work. It was like losing a diary - the story was how I channeled my thoughts, how I expressed my feelings, wrestled with philosophies and debated by beliefs.

But there was one thing that survived - the first chapter. I wanted to make sure I could always read it no matter what, so I posted it publicly - stapled it to the wall of an empty room - and tried to rebuild what I’d lost.

And then people read it.

Three Years Later:

People read it, and liked it. They saw this thing that represented me and they liked it, and they wanted to know when there was going to be more. So I panicked, and I wrote another chapter and posted it. And then after months of people asking me when there was going to be more I posted >another< chapter.

But it didn’t feel right. It felt like strangers reading my diary. What had started as a (arguably unhealthy) coping mechanism for dealing with a reality I couldn’t face had become a silly little story for my readers, and I was beginning to feel embarrassed that I was taking it so seriously. That it was more for me than a story that I had made up, about these books with dull characters and a plot so tedious that I couldn’t make it through reading. This series that was beginning to draw more and more criticism as time went on, and JK Rowling continued to dig the franchises grave deeper and deeper.

Three years later has found me at 20 years old, a better writer, with a lot about my life having changed. I don’t need to read those fan-fictions plots to escape anymore, or daydream about going back in time, or being someone else - I saved myself in a very real, tangible way. I came out as trans and fought to be myself. I’m writing this essay from my own apartment with all the space I want. I attend regular therapy, and own a beautiful puppy service dog named Sirius. I go hiking and to parties, and I sleep at night then I go to work in the morning. I live in a world outside of my own head, surrounded by this beautiful life that I’ve built for myself from nothing.

So Why Start Over?

There’s a lot of reasons. I want to rewrite this story because I’ve gained more experience in life. Because I want to start again, this time without being embarrassed of how much this story means to me, or how long it’s taking me to finish, or being ashamed of taking it this seriously at all.

I want to challenge the idea of fan-fiction as being silly, or unoriginal, or illegitimate - something that needs to be hidden, or kept as a stepping stone before writing “real” novels. I want to be writing this story for the explicitly, publicly stated purpose of it being art on its own, because I have things to say that I want to express specifically through this artistic medium.

I wanted you to know more about me - the stranger behind the words, the man behind the curtain - what this story was really about for me, and where it came from. And now you do.

[innocentlymacabre]

So. I read Legends & Lattes. Well, I devoured it. Tore through the tome in two or three days.

Seriously a 12/10 book with a wonderfully cozy atmosphere. I've since gone hunting for other books with its particular vibe blend and have found a few :)

Because I've been reading a bit more than usual lately, I thought I'd start sharing snippets and quotes from these books that particularly stood out to me. These quotes will be listed with no context and may contain some spoilers. They may have been chosen for their literary merit, because I thought they were silly, because the characters did something I love, or for some other reason altogether. I do not intend to elaborate, but I do hope you enjoy and reblog with your own favourite quotes!

As a rule, folks with a fixed address avoided swindling an orc twice their height who could snap a wrist if they shook hands too firmly.

She passed through all the layers of smell that made up a city— baking bread and waking horses and wet stone and hot metal and floral perfume and old shit.

As Viv approached the table, she got the overwhelming impression that she was entering the den of some elderly woodland beast. A badger perhaps. Not a dangerous sense, but the feeling of a place where he spent so much time that it had absorbed his smell and become essentially his.

Viv woke in the predawn indigo to the growing murmur of the city outside.

“Hm,” she said. It seemed he was rubbing off on her.

As Viv scanned the notices, she endured a weary onrush of memory— beast hunts, bounties, and battles.

With the shop repaired and cleaned and nothing upon which to expend her nervous energy, she felt thwarted.

Fennus always found ways to make her feel less-than with the barest twist of inflection or a carefully chosen word slipped like a knife between the ribs, so sharp you didn’t notice the wound until you looked up from a lapful of blood. And Viv wasn’t above a blunt riposte, even if it often came far too late.

“A pleasure,” said Viv. It wasn’t.

The rattkin shifted from foot to foot and stared longingly at the coffee machine. “Coffee first?” he pleaded.

It never achieved a particularly high speed, but the big fan on the ceiling began to stir the air in a steady, cooling breeze. “I’ll be damned,” said Viv. “Hm,” said Cal. “Maybe. Least you won’t burn alive ’til you get to the hells, though.”

They bristled with enough knives to warrant concern.

Viv wasn’t particularly worried about the knives for herself, but Tandri’s presence threw off her mental calculus of risk entirely.

She drank more deeply, and when she wiped her mouth, she looked over at Viv. “No pearls of wisdom?” “Nope.” Tandri’s eyebrows rose. “But I will say….” Viv glanced over to regard Tandri solemnly. “Fuck those motherfuckers.” Tandri’s surprised laugh startled the birds from the cherry trees.

She looked up at Viv, who could feel the warm glow that sometimes peeked out when Tandri was at her least cautious. But she didn’t think it was responsible for the prickling warmth that burned deeper inside herself. The brandy, surely, was the culprit.

“Viv,” began Tandri, but her gaze dropped and she lost what she was going to say. Viv didn’t let her find it again.

She and Tandri exchanged bemused smiles. Viv noticed that Tandri’s tail was subtly, metronomically swaying behind her. Viv figured that was endorsement enough.

Viv and Tandri settled back into a comfortable equilibrium. There were no further picnics or walks home. Viv harbored a wistful ache that she didn’t examine too closely, and an almost cowardly relief that Tandri didn’t mention their evening at the park.

They stayed busy, and the days brimmed with good smells and unexpected music and companionable work. Her hopes for the shop had been exceeded in every regard. That was enough… wasn’t it?

Viv was suddenly awash in an old feeling of fraught potential. A critical instant that hinged on the movement of a blade, the placement of a foot, a moment of trust extended or withheld. Failure to act was as much a decision as any other.

She thought about the last few months. And she especially thought about Tandri, and the spartan room upstairs. Maybe her friend was right. Maybe the shop wasn’t her life. Maybe she should be prepared to lose it. Without it, though, what was she, really? She could only arrive at one answer. Alone.

“What’s the most you could lose?” Viv stared at Tandri and didn’t voice her first thought.

Even with her back to Tandri, she could feel the woman’s warmth. “Good night, Tandri,” she said, too loudly.

After that, for the first time in ages, Viv fell asleep almost instantly and did not wake until morning.

The gabble of Thune’s waking noises, muted by the walls of the shop, surrounded them peacefully.

Viv was reluctant to break the meditative, mutual silence, but after dallying like a coward in the loft, she felt a need to act decisively. “Did you sleep all right?” As a bold conversational gambit, it left something to be desired.

Then Viv opened the door, and the gentle spell was broken like a soap bubble.

“His biggest fan was back again yesterday. Early, so she got a good seat,” observed Viv. “The one with the hair?” Tandri gestured, miming windblown curls. “That’s the one. I don’t think Pendry’s noticed yet.” “Hmmm. Well, people tend not to notice what’s in front of them until it nearly knocks them down.” Viv was about to reply with an offhanded quip, but something about Tandri’s expression made her reevaluate. Eventually, she managed, “I guess that’s true.”

A part of her understood that she was hurting them, wounding these people who were friends. That some older, crueler self was emerging, crawling from the wreckage of who she thought she had become. That newly ruined part of her cried out for her to stop, to let it be for now, but the crueler self was ascendant, its opponent too weakened and diminished to intervene. “It’s fucking gone,” she snarled. “I spent my chance, and I can’t earn it back.” She held Tandri’s gaze and deliberately said, “This is the part where I do what desperate people do. This is the part where I flee.” Tandri jerked as if struck. Savage satisfaction burned through Viv, followed by a wave of nausea.

She saw in Tandri’s face, composed though it was, that she was awaiting some judgment. Preparing herself for it, to be struck, ignored, or accepted. And terrified of all three. Viv’s hand rose and carefully tucked Tandri’s singed hair behind one ear. With a sharply drawn breath, she tipped her head forward, and brushed her lips against Tandri’s, light as a whisper. Then she wrapped her arms around her and tried not to squeeze too hard. Tandri squeezed back.

She reflected that if the Scalvert’s Stone had drawn something to this place, it might still be there.

Summer was waning, and the teeth of autumn gnawed at them, morning and evening.

Roon left to stable the wagon. Viv couldn’t help but be amused, given that they stood in front of an old livery.

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, and his oil-drop eyes brimmed. She hunkered down before him, “I told you, the best deserve the best.” He threw his arms around her upper arm and gave it a brief, startling hug, and then disappeared into the pantry. Viv found her throat unaccountably thick.

On reopening day, the snow persisted, icing Thune from steeple to cobble. Gray skies bloomed with pink, which limned the clouds to the east, promising more pre-winter flakes.

For the first time, Viv faced the totality of Tandri’s essential self, and was struck by the eloquence and delicacy that was revealed. It was easy to see how one might mistake her nature for something purely sensual, how one might glean only what they most desired from that densely-twined rush of feeling. Hers was a potent dialect of emotion, rich with meaning, comprehensible only to those intimately aware of its subtleties. Tandri didn’t have to say yes. The language was understood. And when her lips found Viv’s, no doubt could have survived.

↝✧↝

If you like comedic fantasy heists, you're in luck! You have the chance to vote for an actual feature film being made, simply by reading the script and giving your honest opinions!

Jayce and Lott find themselves in the twisted grasp of Lucille Carmine, one of the most dangerous Overlords of the criminal world, in a fantasy-heist, splicing the thrill of walking the edge of a knife with fantastical malevolence.

Full Intro Here | Full Script Here

#legends and lattes #legends & lattes #travis baldree #fantasy #cozy #cozy fantasy #coffee #bookblr #booklr #quotes #fiction #lesbian #queer #wlw #readblr #reading

[flockrest]

Hi! I am currently enjoying reading everything, just overall the homey vibe this blog has. I was a bit curious to learn- from your POV Do you think Tulin would grow to resent Revali- for his attitude towards Link? or would have another approach towards it- where it would benefit them all? Sorry was curious and well, I don't got many friends currently as focused and captured by the Rito's motifs in BoTW/ToTK

hello, hello! thank you so much for your lovely words, it makes me super happy to know that my blog is appreciated to this extent!! i hope you'll continue to enjoy your stay while you're here ♡ and no need to apologise! seriously, i'm always up for receiving asks like this; please feel free to drop by my inbox whenever you'd like :) as with tulin brainrot, you've come to the right place for some rito brainrot adfjsgkl

i don't think tulin would be able to resent revali, as they both are in canon, if he even tried! he's been such a huge part of his life for as long as he can remember — it's hard to untangle all the positive feelings and thoughts rooted down to your core and built up over all those years about someone like that. and when the pressure of aspiring to be like someone so revered has never felt like actual spiral-inducing pressure ( fr i could go on and on about his confidence and all the people who've nurtured it to that point 😭 ) but more like encouragement or intense faith, it gets impossibly harder to do so!

also i'm assuming you're asking this in an aoc context ( but will touch on the Potential of this concept, give me a sec slfdjkf ) given that tulin would have like. no knowledge of revali's feelings towards link and the way those were externalised unless he was explicitly told about them otherwise and honestly? the situation would confuse him more than anything, just because he's so young, in that child who doesn't understand that people can like him without liking each other way asflkfkj "the coolest people i know don't like each other which is so weird 'cause i like them and i'm pretty sure they like me WHY DON'T THEY LIKE EACH OTHER???" cue shenanigans from a kid who just wants all his Older People to get along and will forcibly have them bond if need be

that being said, please know that i'm only jesting and not being genuinely reductive with the whole "[revali and link] don't like each other" statement! it's how a very young tulin would interpret their interactions, but we all know there's something much deeper to how revali treats link sdlkdjf ( WE KNOW THIS, YES?? )

in circumstances where tulin would actually be able to grow up witnessing or knowing about this in full ( like, say, an au where revali survives or something ), i do think it could potentially lead to him developing a greater understanding of who revali is, by way of him...well, yeah, once again, meddling and attempting to "patch things over" and just generally being an annoyance with how much he'd be pestering revali with questions like "but WHY?" ( with no intention of inducing any real introspection, though possibly doing so anyway because he's a kid who really likes accidentally asking the hard-hitting questions slfkdj ) though lbr, the antagonism between revali -> link would be of a much different flavour than any shown pre-calamity at that point...but that's a post for another time!

ultimately, i can see the hero worship mellowing out naturally as he gets older, especially as he grows into his own role as a sage. the closest to any sort of real negative feeling he'd reach about revali in the process might be grief ( the kind you'd feel when you outgrow someone who was older than you but no longer is ), or an inability to understand his uhh. recorded eccentricities sklfjdfl but master revali is someone very important to him, and someone who will remain very important to him! he's not going to let that opinion be soured if he can help it :)

#* roosting / ooc. #thank you again for this!! was fun to think about :) i love my blog-lurkers!! #'recorded eccentricities' is referring to (parts of) re.vali's diary btw. i didn't forget it! i just know that if i got into it #ohhh my god i'd be going on such a tangent about what that would do for tul.in's perception of re.vali!! also he never mentions li.nk #by name there. so it really looks like he has this intense beef with a guy he either can't be bothered knowing the name of (this is what #baby tutu would see it as) or just won't deign to namedrop (this is what to.tk tutu would know it to be) #* arrowhead / study. #long post cw

[gunsli-01]

Okay now that I've slept more. Let's talk about the English captions on "It's Not My Fault". It seems these are the lyrics that the translators struggled with the most so far. They're riddled with errors that make it difficult to understand or just flow weird. However, it's not completely impossible to grasp the underlying intent.

I can't speak for direct translations of the lyrics, but I can discuss the creative liberties they attempted to take with the song through the English lyrics provided. That and how I feel those lyrics are best interpreted.

So, here's the translation in the captions and description.

Lines that could make it difficult for some English speakers to wrap their heads around, they would do a double take at, or just lessen the impact of the song have been highlighted. However, since English relies a lot on context when everything is considered together it's not that daunting of a task to discern the meaning.

Here's my interpretation of what was provided superficial or nitpicky changes are highlighted in blue.

I feel the most important thing in the translation even if it's a bit rough is this part

"Sorry for hurting you, but I didn’t mean it. I am doing this is just because of being bored. We are just the same." which I interpreted to mean this, "Sorry for hurting you, but I didn’t mean it. I was just doing it because I was bored. We’re just the same."

This could be interpreted to mean that Mu finds her and Es/us the viewers to be the same just bullying others because we're bored. Just for entertainment and she's not entirely wrong. A lot of people have found Milgram entertaining.

However, this comes off as her admitting there's no deeper meaning behind her behavior, she just felt like it. Which tracks with the emphasis she continues to put on Es doing what they want to do. How they never chose to be the prison guard. So, there's really no point in taking it this seriously. She views them as the same because to an extent they're both just having fun judging others and their actions have led to many getting hurt. So, why not just have fun being the bullies together.

If Es tries to rebel out of jealousy well, we've already seen what'll happen right?

The choice to interpret pitiful into Drama Queen really works in English especially with Mu's character. She spent most of her first interrogation crying even though she was comfortable enough within Milgram to order personalized sweets.

Having it be translated to Drama Queen completely changes the feel of the song. To English speakers she's basically stating over and over that she was worried for nothing, she blew things out of proportion, and that this is something she's always done.

The English connotation around the term Drama Queen is someone who turns even the most mundane situations into a dramatic spectacle. Though I feel like after the part where she says we're just the same it'd be better to say, "Don't you think it's wonderful to control them with your gentle sting?" Further driving the comparison between herself and Es.

It would also aptly compare our guilty verdicts to her bullying. Showing that to an extent she's conflating what she did as her very own form of punishment on the same level as the judgements Es makes for their 'job'.

Honestly, they really chose to translate these lyrics in a way that would cause most Americans at least to snipe this woman from the rafters- Like it's very taunting in nature. Though that's just how I interpreted it when I saw it, and this is just the way it makes the most sense to me.

Other English speakers could have interpreted it a lot differently. Though I hope this gives some insight into why some people in English speaking countries may have changed their opinion on Mu. Maybe a more direct translation would've helped her with that, but I don't believe it would have from what I heard. Plus, the song itself is such a mean girl ballad that any hiccups in translation were easy to overlook.

It really does create an entirely different feel.

#milgram #kusunoki mu

[panickedpansexualprincess]

I was just wondering, how do you handle being polyamorus and Christian? I was raised Christian, and it was only last year I finally really made the belief my own and truly connected with God. But the thing is, I always believed I was completely straight too. I thought my religion supported that idea as well so I never questioned the idea that I was straight. Until recently. I started thinking about polyamory, I started realizing I like my boyfriend but I'm also falling for other people while I'm dating him. I realized that any dating games I've played I never wanted to stick to just one partner because I liked ALL the boys offered. I don't really know how to handle that. So I'm curious, how did you handle it? Did you always know you were poly, or was it more of a realization? And how did that affect your faith? I apologize if this is too personal to ask. I just am afraid nobody in my family would understand that wouldn't just outright encourage the idea or discourage me. I don't know if I have any friends I could go to either. Again, I'm sorry if this is too personal.

Don't worry, it's not too personal a question. I don't mind sharing my answer, although I'm not sure how helpful it will be. Hopefully at least a little.

I was raised Christian as well, and grew up thinking I was both straight and monogamous. While I was in college, I had both of those beliefs challenged, and it was something I struggled with for quite awhile. I had a religious crisis over realizing that I wasn't straight first, realizing that I was attracted to people of multiple genders. It was something I resolved through a lot of prayer, and looking at scripture, and the context of that scripture. (Multiple verses condemning homosexuality have a context that they are condemning it as ways of worshipping other gods.) I relied on prayer a LOT here as well, praying heavily and begging God to lead me to follow His will, and to impress upon my heart whether or not I was sinning in my attraction to others. I will also admit, I leaned on the queer community I was a part of at the time, having people who accepted who I was both as a Christian and as someone who wasn't straight. Eventually, I came to peace with my attraction to multiple genders while still believing in my God and in Jesus as my savior.

It happened again, that religious crisis, when I began to realize that I loved more than just my at the time husband. It was an unusual situation for me; I developed a relationship with someone that started as a friendly joke that we were 'spouses,' but somewhere along the line became deeper and more serious. It was a little easier, having already been through one such crisis, but no less scary to think that… what if I was in error, what if I was sinning? I turned first to prayer again. I prayed consistently, seriously, and asked for guidance from God. I asked for God to lead me to follow His will, to show me what He wished and wanted of me when it came to the love that I felt in my heart.

I thought a lot about what love meant, and what love meant to God, and to Christians. Something led me to thinking about the love that God has in His heart for all humanity. God's love in infinite, and He loves each and every human being who has existed in the whole of human existence. That's… a LOT. A lot of people. A lot of love. And something led me to thinking about how we are made in God's image. Everything that God is is reflected in us- including that love. That infinite love. I thought a lot about the different kinds of love as well, and how infinite other kinds of love are. After all, if a person has multiple children, or multiple siblings, or multiple family members, are they not able to love multiple people? Does loving multiple family members diminish or dwindle that familial love because it's so split? That's not how I see it- or how most people see it, I think. Like God loves multiple humans, like a person loves multiple family members… Can one not love multiple people romantically? Why is romantic love seemingly limited to just one person? Why is romantic love so different, so finite, when other love isn't?

I did a lot of praying about all of these thoughts that spun around in my head too. I prayed again for guidance from God, for Him to impart His wisdom to me, and His will. And eventually, I came to be at peace with my ability to love multiple people while still loving my God and taking Jesus as my savior.

So…. tl;dr, I prayed a lot. I prayed for YEARS. And I trusted in the feelings of peace that my prayer eventually brought me to, and I trusted that that was God's answer to my prayers. I also relied a good deal on a community of people who accepted me for who I was and what I believed, a queer community. I also searched out a queer Christian community for guidance, looking online especially, but also… haha, I check out the churchs that come to Pride every year, because it's always a wonderful feeling to see other Christians who are supportive of queer people!

This has been a bit long, but I hope it helps in some way. I absolutely understad where you're coming from, and what you're struggling with right now. I best thing I can recommend is to reach out to God for guidance, and to seek out support where you can. I hope you're able to find peace and acceptance for yourself, and I hope you have a blessed day.

#Christianity #religion #polyamory #sexuality #anonymous #I hope this helps #I hope you find peace with accepting yourself

[tryingtimi]

“ come to me, okay? whenever you need someone. “

@bloodlessheirbyjacques ✨

Painful Endings, Reluctant Beginnings

@bloodlessheirbyjacques and I had this lovely sprint session back in the last decade (kidding obv, I'm just slow with writing and could only finish it now) and we used Brave Enough to Love You by Lindsely Stirling and Christina Perri's beautiful song as a prompt. Listening on repeat, we've both created a scene for it, and so a little angsty, little hurt-comfort Cronlyn had been born from it on my side and an amazing, angsty Elistrea on Jaq's. I also mixed the vibe with this prompt to clear my drafts out as well hehe. Context: The team find out that the driadlin society's religion was a lie that the villain's side planted out back in the days, so they could lure the clueless driadlin into their traps without anyone finding out the truth. Avelyn was one of the loyal Pristess apprentices of their religion.

CRONYL AND AVELYN | ANGST | HURT/COMFORT | SLIGHT SELF-LOATHING | WC: 1,736

Veilnieve’s Priestesses could never take off their veils. The truth was so hidden in the world, they needed the purest sight to find even the tiniest pieces of it. It helped them. Their oats chained the veils to them.

Was the whole thing just a lie?

Avelyn felt the tiny bruise she made as her nails scratched across the soft skin of her thumb. A little blood appeared there as she glanced at it. She couldn’t bring herself to care about it, though. Not now, when she didn’t even know what to believe anymore.

“Here.”

A cloth was pushed into her vision, followed by his usual, even voice. Avelyn didn’t need to look at him to know, he didn't even turn to her while handing her the piece. He knew what she did without sparing her a glance, probably. Oh, Veilne…

Avelyn reached for the cloth so hurriedly, she ended up snapping the thing out of Cronyl’s hand. Great. She wasn’t even capable of controlling herself now.

Was this a punishment? Her punishment? She found and studied forbidden knowledge, after all. She may even have been responsible for dooming their world, wasn’t she? How could she care about a little blood on her fingers after all that?

She squeezed her eyes together for a moment, leaving the cloth to rest in her lap without using it. She breathed in deeply and allowed the air to slowly find its way out of her lungs. Her concentration sharpened with this, so she could focus on her surroundings for a short time.

The small room they were in, the wooden chair she was sitting on, the table beside her… Cronyl, leaning against it. His presence was ruling the place as always. He couldn’t hide there, even if he tried to. Even when she didn’t see him.

Strictness, seriousness, loneliness… tenderness, care, trust. She felt it all, as he soundlessly half-stood beside her. Her mind was full of grave thoughts and with every new one that found its place there, her heart only sank deeper.

And yet, she didn’t feel lonely.

She was lost; more than she had ever been in her entire life. But with a quiet companion, she didn’t feel lonely.

Avelyn opened her eyes, her thick, pearl-white veil blocking her view to be completely clear. She saw the world through the net of lies.

And how tiring it felt to do that now.

She wanted to reach for the string of her veil, but her hand wasn’t taking orders from her, not now, not anymore. It was something too deeply nested in her core to just get rid of it this easily.

So instead, she looked at Cronyl.

The man, who didn’t let her alone, when everyone else shared the thought of leaving her be. She didn’t want that, and Cronyl somehow knew this. How, she couldn’t tell.

He was watching the other side of the room, maybe inspecting something or he was as lost in his thoughts as Avelyn. He leaned at the table, so he didn’t need to support his whole body with his legs, hands beside him. He wasn’t staring at her. Avelyn saw all this, but only through a muted layer, so she couldn’t be sure about anything.

Only that, Cronyl still wore his half-broken glass on his forehead, one, still unharmed side pulled down at his red eye to keep it at bay.

Avelyn could have dragged her gaze off him, but she didn’t want to. Instead, she recalled their first meeting and all the things that happened since then. How much things have changed. How the hero to monster slowly grew in her eyes and turned into something beyond a hero. She realized Cronyl wasn’t a monster even if he bore one inside himself. He was closer to being a legend by not letting all that power rule him.

Admiration and something else stirred inside Avelyn’s chest. It was a feeling that made her blush, but she was also moderately aware of what it was exactly. She wasn’t enough for it, though.

She couldn't even deal with the weight of the recent events. She wasn’t brave enough to face her shadows, let alone love someone like Cronyl.

Her hands finally let her lift them and reach toward her ears. It wasn’t something she could rush, but something she forced herself to do anyway. When her fingers softly brushed her ears, she almost shivered. She knew if she took her veils off then, she wouldn't take them back. Ever.

The strings were in her hands.

How heavy some silk-like strings could have felt. She closed her eyes. Those ones that everyone said to be treacherous, but legendary. Those ones that made her lose her faith long before she knew the truth. A tiny, bitter smile found her lips.

Has she truly believed anyway?

With a deep breath, she let her fingers pull the strings off of her ears. If they had a grand weight when they were on her, without them, she felt even heavier. Heavy and weak…

Her heart skipped a beat.

A small, delicately decorated mirror caught her sight when she opened her eyes. It was so light, she didn’t even notice when it was placed on her lap.

Avelyn’s mind let all thoughts run free, her feelings exploding as strabugs would burst out their stars on a busy night. She carefully picked up the trinket, letting the veil hanging from one of her hands only. She felt her throat dry out and turn into a desert where all the water evaporated into the air. She gulped then and with a deep breath, she lifted the mirror to look into it.

Veilnieve’s devotees were not allowed to use mirrors. She hasn't seen herself for years now. The only reason she knew her eye color was the wrong one was that her apprentice friend and Priestess Rheata told her.

A mountain grew on her shoulder as she glanced at the reflection. A reflection of someone who had no round, but a delicately narrow nose. Of someone who had no rosy, puffy cheeks, only the soft lines of the face and jaws. There were no longer, curvy, smiling lips on the bottom, but more strict and strongly outlined ones. The hair was fine, long and so cared for as it framed this face. The face that bore those eyes; those golden eyes which about bards have sung songs of tales old as time itself.

Avelyn’s breath was shaking, when she realized who she faced wasn’t the innocent child that lived in her memories.

Who she faced was a woman with possession of something that shouldn’t have existed anymore.

A woman and a face she did not recognize.

The mountain only grew and buried her heart under a terrible weight as those foreign golden eyes became glossy from tears grieving a life lived through lies. A life that wasn’t even one in the first place. If nothing is real, then how could one call that a life anyway?

Avelyn wanted to close her eyes to stop her woe from running free on her cheeks; she couldn’t take off her gaze from the mirror, however. These trinkets showed the reflection of real things, they said.

They never told her it also revealed what is real at all.

She caressed the thick, beautifully carved frame of the mirror as one teardrop started its journey across her face. No more, only one. Finding out the truth finally meant her facing something she had no chance to, what she couldn’t.

Her weakness lasting so long deserved only one drop of sadness.

Heart sinking deep enough to never be found again, she placed the mirror down on the table beside her before she decided to look at Cronyl again. At him, who still faced the door, yet, she knew he was listening and watching. Waiting. Waiting for her to calm down, to begin processing what happened. For her to speak if she feels the need. A gentle smile crept upon her lips, as she somehow just knew, if she wouldn’t say a thing, Cronyl would still stand there until she would decide to silently leave the room.

Avelyn slowly rose from her seat, cloth slipping from her lap whilst she walked before him. She kept her distance to not disturb his privacy, yet she was close enough. His piercing metal-like gaze carefully wandered at her then, that one eye he was forced to leave free. Something he couldn’t hide, no matter how much he wanted to.

Carefully, with certain hands, she reached for his spectacles on his forehead. Not directly, but steadily to give him time to see what she’s going to do.

Cronyl visibly tensed up as he leaned back slightly, the same way a stray cat would draw back from a stranger who was trying to caress them. One of his hands seemed ready to stop her even. He didn’t raise them, however. The only thing he did was look into Avelyn’s eyes as intensely as ever and as if he found what he was looking for; he closed his eyes eventually.

A tiny, soothing wave washed over Avelyn’s deeply rooted loss when she finally touched the glass. She noticed his ears sharpen ever so slightly and heard the faint scratching sound of the table as his sharpened nails dug into it. He let her take off his glass nevertheless.

Revealing the scar on his eye made her sigh soundlessly, but it didn’t stop her from replacing the glass by binding her veil to his forehead.

A surprised expression spread out on Cronyl’s face, as Avelyn stepped back when she finished. He immediately raised his hand to touch the fabric, which she folded into a bandana. It was thicker now, so it could protect his eyes.

“Come to me, okay? Whenever you need someone,” she added quietly.

After a moment of standing in their content silence frozen in time, he pulled one side down at his scarred eye, then opened them up. There was no confusion, nor question in his stare. He only nodded.

“I will.”

#writeblr #fantasy #writing community #Project Metalsea #Metalsea snippets #Avelyn Dione #Cronyl Eldenwere #Cronyl doesn't really like touching #or well only from people closest to him #so #they're at the doorstep of slowly getting together #tho ther will be some things to think upon before they do #Metalsea: The Lost Empire

[gglitch1dd]

To Be Better -MHA

Bakugou x (Kirishima x GN!Reader) Angst to Comfort

Context: Kirishima, Bakugou and you were all best friends. So you all knew when something wasn't right with another. But Kiri and you didn't expect to find Bakugou starving himself to be better.

Warning: Negative thoughts, T.W: starvation, self-hatred, comparing of two different people

“... I was talking to Inko and we were both watching the news together like we do on Fridays and we saw you and your friends take down that one villain with the cloud quirk.” Mitsuki Bakugou talked to her son through the phone.

Katsuki Bakugou, however, couldn’t care less. Ever since he was kidnapped in his first year at U.A his father had insisted that he talked to them every month or so to make sure he was doing okay in the dorms. He, of course, thought it was unnecessary and so did his mother but he didn’t want to upset his father so he put up with it for him. Plus, he normally finished all his work and studying quite early so he had nothing better to do than catch up with his parents.

“Izuku looks so much buffer now, Katsuki. He’s really taking his hero training seriously.” His mother continued to ramble on about Midoriya. Bakugou rolled his eyes. He hated whenever she talked about him. Sometimes he just wanted her to focus on him, her son. “What food have you been eating, Katsuki? I noticed your face has gotten chubbier.”

Bakugou froze from his position on his bed. “What?” He asked her, anger seeping through his voice.

“Argh, you heard me. What have you been eating there? I thought you always monitor what you eat.”

Bakugou sat up as his eyebrows furrowed deeper. “I do watch what I eat. What are you saying, old hag!”

“Don’t shout at me, brat! I’m just asking! If you want to be a chubby hero, go continue what you’re doing.” She let out almost as if she didn’t care. “Just don’t come blabbing to me about what the press says about you if they see it too. It’s better you hear it from your mother than from them.”

Bakugou felt his palms dampen as anger coarse through his veins. His free palm that wasn’t holding his phone, sparked. “TCH! Whatever. Listen, Old Hag, I need to go to bed. I don’t need you bothering me. Tell, Pops I said bye.”

“Alright, but you should ask Izuku about his workout routine. Don’t you want to be better, cute and slim like Izuku? He could help you slim down your-”

He ended the call not even wanting to hear anything more about Midoriya or his body image. His scowl deepened as he looked at his phone. He always hated when his mother compared him to Midoriya. Whenever she mentioned that green haired hero to him. She always did it when he was younger. Even when Midoriya was found out to be quirkless, she still wanted him to be kind like Izuku. To be a hard worker like Izuku. To have better manners like Izuku. To be better just like Izuku.

Bakugou threw his phone against his pillow and stood up. He slid off his tank top and was going to put it in his drawer when he paused. He had saw his image in his mirror. He hesitated but walked back to stand in front of the mirror. He had always been a slim kid but he had to gain more muscle and mass due to hero work. To be stronger and to be able to withstand attacks to his body. He knew he needed the extra weight but yet somehow he couldn’t help but look at it with a bad taste in his mouth. Suddenly his waist didn’t seem tight enough and his face…

God, he hated his face.

Always carrying that scowl that everyone mentioned. He always looked so angry, so unapproachable.

What type of hero would people want to be around that looked like that?

He also hated his chest. He had a big chest, it couldn’t be helped. Even at the end of middle school he had to blast some guy in his class to saying a joke about how he had big tits like a girl. He tried everything since then and nothing worked. It couldn’t be helped that he had them.

He hated them.

His feminine features are what he hated the most. His chest, his ass, his waist. Everything. He wanted them to just be different. To have a more masculine look like Midoriya started to build up. To be broader and look like his mother’s definition of a perfect son.

Bakugou quickly turned his head away from the mirror not bearing to stand it. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt the feeling of hot burning rage in his chest. Not directed to his mother or Midoriya but to himself.

He heard a knock at the door. He sighed and shrugged back on his tank top. He walked over to the door and threw it open. “What?” He asked, anger still burning inside him.

You and Kirishima stood at the door with your stupid bright smiles on your faces. It directly contrasted his angry expression that you had both gotten used to. “Hey, Bakugou.” You greeted.

“It’s time for dinner, dude.” Kirishima informed him as he motioned for the angry blond to come into the hallway. “Come on. The class is waiting for us.”

Bakugou and Midoriya normally trained at nights every few days or so with All Might, so they would both just get back and go to their dorms to change for dinner. This time, they had come back early and Bakugou decided to call his parents, seeing as they were due for another check in.

“I’m not hungry.” He automatically responded. He wasn’t sure how the lie just fell out of his mouth. He never lied. He always responded with his truth because there was never a need to lie. So, why was that his response? A day in the hero course would leave anyone starving. Heck, he could feel his stomach growling.

Why are you lying?

Both you and Kiri shared a look. You were both very skeptical about that. Of course, Bakugou didn’t eat as near as much as Kirishima did or others in class but he always told you all the importance of eating regularly and healthy. It was sort of annoying especially since you all also heard it from Iida.

“Uhh…” You started. “Are you sure, Bakugou?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. “You normally-”

“I’m not fucking hungry. I’m tired, alright. Training with that damn fucking nerd gets to me sometimes. I just want to sleep.” He interrupted you.

You opened your mouth to push on but you saw the look Kiri gave you. He shook his head as if understanding that the blond needed his space. He looked back up to Bakugou and smiled. “Sure man. Have a good night, alright?”

Bakugou relaxed his shoulders, glad Kirishima was leaving it be. “Yah, yah. See you two idiots tomorrow.” He waved a hand and closed the door.

The both of you shared a glance, not leaving just yet. Bakugou was acting strange. The three of you were best friends and could read each other quicker than anyone else could. With the three of you being in Class A’s hero course together you all lived in the dorms together. You could tell when he wasn’t behaving like he normally would.

Kiri took your hand firmly. “Come on. Lets go back downstairs.” He told you with a soft smile. You gave him a smile back and walked away from Bakugou’s dorm with him.

Bakugou relaxed against his door as he heard the elevator door close, leaving him the only one on his floor. He slid down to the door and gripped his head harshly. His thoughts were racing in his head.

Why would he do that? Why did he lie? It didn’t make any sense to him, whatsoever. He never lies to the both of you. The both of you were his best friends, even when he was acting like an absolute asshole. You both stuck by him closer than you probably should.

Bad friend.

Worthless.

Brat.

Be better!

Izuku wouldn’t do this to his friends!

Why can’t you be a good friend like Izuku!

BE BETTER!

Bakugou squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to block out his thoughts. This was his punishment. He was punishing himself. He had to be better. He just had to. Even if it meant just skipping one meal.

Both you and Kiri knew something was up about Bakugou. You had the feeling for quite a while now.

The changes in Bakugou’s behaviour were subtle and hard to see but they were there. Tiny but there. For one, he was quieter than usual. Bakugou was a quiet person, unless provoked which was quite often but now he wouldn’t explode and Midoriya as much as he used to. He had this far away look about him.

At first both you and Kiri shrugged it off as him maybe just not wanting to talk. He never normally did. And the whole class saw it as him being nicer to Midoriya (if that was even possible). So the both of you ruled it out as just that. Bakugou was much more different then how he was when he first entered UA. So, maybe it was part of his growth.

Then he started to seem… well.. paler. Less healthy. Which was odd since he lectured people (like Iida) to eat better and to keep in top hero shape. His eyes seemed to lose the same vivid redness that the both of you knew. You didn’t know how it was possible since he always seemingly ate his meals although he would be very quick about it and disappear to God knows where to do God knows what. He would never let either of you tag behind. Not you or the squad.

Midoriya had approached the both of you after training one afternoon. He was still in his hero costume from training and was yet to change. Both you and Kirishima were in your school uniform already changed. He seemed hesitant but he knew he had to make sure he wasn’t the only one seeing it. “Hey, Kirishima. Y/N. Can I talk to the both of you?” He asked as the both of you were heading outside to meet with Bakugou who was waiting to walk back to the dorms with you.

Kiri turned to Class A’s problem child. “Yah? What’s up Midoriya?” He asked, stopping with you by his side..

“Is it just me or…” Midoriya looked around the hallway, as if Bakugou would pop out of nowhere and hurdle at him. “Is Kacchan not looking too good?” He asked quieter. Both Kiri and you shared a glance. You were just talking about it yesterday in your dorm room. Midoriya took that as a safe sign to continue. “Like he’s thinner, his hair seems less puffier than usual and he looks a bit… I don't know… sunken in.” He spoke.

You nodded your head. “Yah, we’ve noticed.” You spoke for the both of you.

Midoriya nodded his head, knowing he wasn’t going crazy. “I tried talking to him but he wouldn't budge. I know he's closer with you guys, so can you two talk to him?”

You nodded your head as you looked at Kirishima. “Yah, definitely.”

Midoriya smiled in relief. “Great, I’m glad.” He placed a hand to his chest. “Well, I’ve got to quickly talk to All Might, So I’ll see you guys soon.” He smiled as he ran off down the hallway away from you guys.

You turned to Kirishima. “I told you, we weren’t crazy.” You pointed a finger up at the tall red head.

Kirishima had grown a bunch and had let his hair grow out, at first he was really self-conscious about it but you, Bakugou and the squad were there to help reassure him. Kiri scratched the back of his neck. “Yah, you’re right.” He lets out. “When do you think we should talk to him? I mean we can’t leave him to continue whatever he’s been doing.” You could see the worry in Kiri’s deep red eyes. You frowned at the look on his face. Kiri dragged a hand through his hair. He looked down at the floor as the both of you headed towards the exit. “How could I have shrugged off his behavior? He must need us. I know he doesn’t like talking about things but it doesn't mean I should be so ignorant to-” You quickly stopped the redhead by pulling on a lock of his hair. You saw him visibly tense. “OW!” He shot you a glare and took the lock of hair away from you. “What was that for?”

“Stop getting stuck in your head. There is nothing we can do to change the past. We didn’t see it then, but we see it now.” Kiri looked off to the side away from you, ashamed that he got stuck in his head again. You softly placed your hand against his cheek and turned his head to look at you. “You’re a good person, Kiri. Don’t forget that.” You swiped gently at his cheek. You gave him a weak smile. “We’ll do this together. We’ll help him together. Just like we always do.”

Kiri nodded as he leaned into your palm. The afternoon sun streaming in from outside to light both your sides in the orange gold glow. “Yah.” Kiri turned his head into your open palm. He hummed at the feeling of your hand against his. “I love the feeling of your hands. They're nice.” He smiled. His big red ruby eyes slowly drifted to look at you. One of the things you loved about him was his eyes. His deep red eyes that always looked at someone with all of his attention and admiration.

You smiled at the redhead. Your cheeks warmed at his words. “Thank you, Eiji.” You let go of his face and hooked his arm with your own. You leaned against him as you both continued closer to the exit. “Should we do it after dinner?”

“Yah, let's do it then.”

The both of you clung to Bakugou since you all walked back to the dorms. Not letting him get a moment of alone time. At dinner you both sat at either side of him like any other time, clinging to him. Bakugou looked at the both of you skeptically, not exactly sure about how the two of you were acting. After dinner, Bakugou excused himself and the both of you followed him like sheep. The rest of the squad teased the both of you, but you didn’t mind. You had to know what was going on.

Bakugou felt a bit claustrophobic with the both of you watching over him. He couldn’t get to the bathroom, so he just went to his room. The both of you hanged around him like normal. But then an hour after dinner passed and he felt really uncomfortable. Not specifically with the both of you.

“I’m going to the bathroom. I have to go to bed.” Bakugou voiced out.

Kirishima shot up. “Great. I need to go to-”

“No!” Bakugou interrupted Kiri suddenly. He turned back to the both of you with an angry expression on his face.

Kiri leaned back at the tone of voice Bakugou used against him. “But why, Bakugou?”

“Why?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he glared at the both of you. “Both of you two annoying shits have been following me around all day! You haven’t given me a chance to breathe!”

You stood up from your spot on the floor to walk over to stand next to Kiri. You had a worried expression on your face. “Bakugou, we’re just worried about you. We’re your friends. Is it wrong for us to want to be around you?” You ask him, taking a step forward.

The blond looked away from the both of you angry. His hands shoved into his pockets. He felt sweaty in his sweater. He had started wearing longer clothing recently. Which was weird because it wasn’t winter or cold in any way. Kirishima sighed, seeing that it wasn’t getting anywhere. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned at Bakugou. “Fine. We’ll let you go.” You turned to look at Kiri, confused. “But you have to tell us what you’ve been doing after meals. You always disappear randomly. What do you have, diarrhoea?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“What?” Bakugou asked, shocked at the assumption.

You scoffed. “Considering his quirk, I wouldn’t be surprised.” You snarked out from the side.

Kiri tried to suppress a smile as he glanced down at you. “Not the time.” He mumbled to you.

Bakugou looked at the both of you, annoyed. “I don’t have explosive diarrhoea.” That’s when you lost it and started giggling. You had your theories and this was one of them. Kiri shoved you and you stopped. You apologized under your breath, knowing it wasn’t the time. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the both of you. “It doesn't matter what I’ve been doing.”

“Well if it doesn’t matter, then you can tell us.” You folded your arms as well.

Bakugou dragged his hands down his face. “Can you guys just leave!” He started getting annoyed.

“No. We aren’t leaving till you tell us what’s been going on.” Kirishima pushed.

“Please just leave!” Bakugou shouted.

“No!”

“LEAVE!”

“NO!”

Bakugou walked up to Kirishima. His palms sparking. “God dammit, Eijiro! Just lea-”

Kirishima stopped Bakugou before he could touch the both of you and slammed the blond against the wall. His back against the wall and his face staring up at Kirishima. Kiri glared down at him, a spark of anger in his eyes. “Calm down! We aren’t leaving till you tell us what’s going on!” He told the shocked blond. That’s when he noticed that Bakugou had indeed gotten smaller in his grasp. His muscles seemed less packed almost and his face seemed pale and thinner. Kiri leaned back as his eyes widened. “Gosh Katsuki. Have you been eating?” He asked.

Bakugou looked away from the redhead. Not wanting to lie or say anything to the both of you right now. That’s when you realized what he had been doing to himself. You took a step back as you covered your mouth in shock. “Katsuki… please tell me you haven’t…” You couldn’t finish the statement, not wanting to believe it. Bakugou felt more anger flood through him but it wasn’t at you. It was at him. For doing this to himself. For letting you find out.

Kirishima looked at the both of you, still confused. “What? What has he been doing?”

You turned to Kiri. “Help me get him on the bed.” You tell him. Not questioning you just yet, Kiri did as he was told.

Bakugou’s eyes widened as Kirishima manhandled him down onto his bed. “Hold on! Wait! Stop it!” As Kiri pinned him down, you reached for Bakugou’s sweater. The blond didn’t stop fighting so you just decided that the best plan of action was to rip it open. Once it was torn down the front, the both of you paused. Your assumption was right. Kiri let go of Bakugou his expression filled with worry and sadness. Bakugou looked away from the both of you, tears pricking his eyes. “I know what you're going to say. I know you’re angry, disappointed… but you don’t understand.” He let out. “I had tried everything to be thinner.” You heard his voice break in sadness. “To be better like that damn Deku!” He placed a hand to his chest as tears streamed down his face. “I hated myself. I needed to be better. I-”

Both you and Kirishima quickly tackled the blond into a hug. You were on his right while Kiri was on his left. You both were crying with him, holding him so tight, you didn’t even think he could breathe. Bakugou was shocked. He didn’t think this would happen.

“Please… talk to us whenever you feel like this. You might not love yourself but we do.” You let out, your voice shaky and weak.

“We love you so much, Katsuki.” Kirishima let out, sincerity in every word. He backed away and looked down into the crimson eyes of his best friend. “We love you just the way you are. You don’t need to be better. If you want to be thin, be thin but there’s a better way to do it! We could have helped you.”

“We still can.” You let out. You moved back to sit and look down at Bakugou next to Kiri. “Please, just… talk to us.”

Bakugou closed his eyes tight as he felt a sob wreck through his body. Tears flowed down no matter how hard he tried to stop them. You pulled the blond up and held him in your arms, safe against your chest. Your head on top of his. You rubbed his back soothingly.

Kirishima took the both of you in his arms. His warmer and bigger body, engulfing the both of you. Bakugou just felt more sobs erupt from him at the feeling of the both of you there with him. “Let it out, Kats. Let it all out.” Kiri spoke in a hushed soothing voice.

Bakugou hiccupped as he leaned his head against you. “I’m so sorry.” He cried. “I didn’t know-” A hiccup and stutter interrupted him from speaking.

“We don’t blame you. We’re not upset with you. We’re here for you.” He reassured the blond. The both of you just let him release all that pent up emotions from within. You both knew that it would be a long road to him going back to some sense of normality, and you probably needed to tell Aizawa about this, but right now… he needed you. He needed people that loved him.

He didn’t need to be better.

He was himself. And that was all he needed to be.

A/N: You are perfect the way you are. Never forget that.

-Glitch1d

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