I'm sincerely very happy for anyone who is enjoying the show but every time I see takes that the show has improved the book characterizations or that the book characters are underdeveloped in comparison to the show...
Based off that one fanfic that i can't really find but it's about how he stops himself everytime things got spicy ("he pulled his hand like he got a burn" or smth like that and it's been living in my head rent free ever since)
+DOODLES! BC MY ELECTRICITY MAY BE CUT AGAIN BUT THE BRAIN NEVER TURNS OFF
To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.
To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.
To love a God is to sin.
The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.
But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.
She loves a God like a lover should.
A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.
She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.
No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.
The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.
It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.
For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.
She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.
She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.
But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.
Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.
There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.
To love is to be human, and they are no God.
Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..
She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.
To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.
Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.
An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.
post-the search for spock but it's a yuri slice of life comic <333 nothing as good a bonding activity as lovingly combing out your vulcan wife's hair as you fondly bitch about your other wife 🩵💙💛
qétoiles n qbagz’ convo about his code arm + fun banter from last sunday :] english subs + transcript below da cut
[Video transcript:
Etoiles: But yesterday when he [Forever] talked to me, he was so frightened, basically he was like, ‘But one day won’t you lose your shit and want to kill the Eggs with the Code, and everything?’ Though I was telling him, ‘But the fact is, I know the Code very well’—
Baghera: Oh, so you told him you joined—?
Etoiles: No, no, no, not at all. It’s just that he has these assumptions that I’m really allied to the Code because—
Baghera: I think it’s due to your Code tattoo, also, it gives off the impression you’re in the process of transforming into a Code, Etoiles, let’s not lie.
Etoiles: That’s it, that’s it. But, basically I told him that I’ve had it since—
Baghera: But you don’t give a shit? You’re taking it well?
Etoiles: Well, yeah, I don’t give a shit because I know he’ll never beat me. Basically I—
Baghera: But you don’t give a shit about the code literally popping up over your body?
Etoiles: Well, yeah, because it’s a part of me now. It’s normal.
Baghera: How?
Etoiles: Well, after— after fighting someone 17 times, you start— you start creating links. But those links—
Baghera: But— you know that’s not how things work. Like— look, we cross paths. Right now we’re crossing paths. You see? We’re crossing paths. I kick your ass. Like, for free. You see? I see you, I’m like, ‘Bro, I don’t like his face,’ so I kick your ass.
Etoiles: But no! Because if you tell me ‘Good fight’ at the end—
Baghera: I see you again— wait, I’m not finished. I see you again like 12 times, and I tell myself, ‘Hey, I’ll do it again,’ I kick your ass again. After a while, Rayou, I won’t get diabetes!
Etoiles: Well, maybe you will, huh.
Baghera: Yes, but it’s not— it doesn’t work, like— there’s no correlation, you see!
Etoiles: You know you won’t have those cells anymore, you know, it’s possible.
Baghera: But— no— what I mean is— Etoiles! That’s now how it works! It’s worrisome! It’s normal for us to worry!
Etoiles: Well, yeah, but, uhhh. Basically, you’re all used to talking with me on the island. And you understand very well that there’s nothing able to corrupt me.
Baghera: That we don’t know, Etoiles! Because— if it’s— I know that your morality, and your enormous brain, and your big body, won’t get corrupted. But if there’s suddenly— well, what I mean is that we don’t know what all the possible systems of manipulation on the island are.
Etoiles: It’s true. No, it’s true. But for the moment I’m doing well.
Baghera: Yeah, well, so much the better. But—
Etoiles: For the moment I’m doing well!
Baghera: If you feel any change, Etoiles, mention it, okay?
Etoiles: Oh, I’ll talk about it. But for the time being I’m doing very well.
Baghera: So I can understand peoples’ fear upon seeing you LITERALLY transform into a Code and who tell themselves, ‘Oh, strange, maybe there’s a thing with the Codes.’
Etoiles: It’s true but who can better know the dangers of the Code than someone who’s confronted it his whole life? Instead of someone who—
Baghera: I’m well aware.
Etoiles: No but it’s— it’s— it’s for that reason that I told Forever. I totally understand the fear and everything, it’s normal. You see a dude turning into a Code, you ask yourself, ‘What’s the guy who sent him doing?’
Baghera: Well, yeah, there you go.
Etoiles: Like, ‘Who sent him?’
Baghera: But you don’t feel any different? Nothing?
Etoiles: Absolutely not, no. Everything is going well. I still hate the Code whenever I see him, I still want to kick his ass. Everything’s fine. Even if right now I want him—
Baghera: But you join up with them when he suggests it, yeah. Well, it’s to get the shield back.
Etoiles: It was just for the shield, believe me. Believe me, if I run into them again- if I run into them again and they don’t offer me things to save the Eggs and everything, it’s goodbye. And considering what I’ve prepared— considering what I’ve prepared, I objectively think that 5 Codes won’t be enough to kill me. There’ll need to be 10 of them.
Baghera: They might bring 10, huh.
Etoiles: Yeah, well, then again, we have time.
Baghera: Well, in any case, they don’t want to kill you anymore since you’re working with them.
Etoiles: Well, in fact, we’re not really— actually— I don’t really know what he’s thinking. Because the last time we talked I told them, ‘But if you lay even a finger on the Eggs, I’ll kick your fucking asses, you sacks of shit.’ And they left, and they didn’t answer me.
Baghera: Then again, they’re a bit cryptic, the Codes, you know.
Etoiles: Yeah, but normally they�� I managed to talk with them a bit, so— so I don’t know. Personally, I’m telling you—
Baghera: Okay, no, what I mean is that I understand why when people see you they think, ‘Maybe it’s possible he’s getting a little bit corrupted by the Codes.’
Etoiles: No but yeah, yeah, I totally get it. But honestly, never. Never in a million years.
Baghera: I believe you! I trust you. But if there’s— if once you feel any difference or something of the sort, you mention it, okay? To whomever you want, but you mention it.
Etoiles: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (10000x)
Baghera: You know you’re not very reassuring when you say that, as an answer.
Etoiles: That’s true. But I’m telling you there’s no problem. And— actually. The moment I start feeling strange, I’ll put numbers. And so you’ll have to come get me.
Baghera: Okay, okay. I’ll remember that.
Etoiles: Just that. But I— I— yeah. I whisper in the Code’s ear.
Baghera: The day you start talking to me in binary, there’ll be an issue, basically.
Etoiles: The day I say, ‘10001’, that’s it. But actually, I’m telling you, I could never be corrupted because I have AVAST, my wool block which blocks viruses.
i’m so used to how you draw zelda that whenever i see someone else draw her it’s literally like. skinny person jumpscare.
literally being a fat zelda truther is so hard bc why do people insist on drawing the girl like she's never had a meal in her life. put some meat on her bones please god she is starving
some design comcepts for older lily + lewis!!! my latest and greatest headcanon for them is that in the future they get gems and can do magic of their own :33 i just think it’d be neat,,, something to do with their love of magic!!!! 🥺