#is it a coincidence it comes from the cult shippers? i don’t think so they’re terrified of it

[taehyungfirst]

Antis calling Taehyung homophobic will always be crazy to me. He’s been appreciating and sharing queer artists for years. And I say this as a queer person myself, you sound ridiculous 😭

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Larrie posts would get 10s of thousands of likes. It was like a huge wave that carried you along.//// I was there. And honestly, I still go through some Larry theories once In a while. Just for fun. I recently read one of the scarlet letter and how both HL signaled their lives pertaining to the themes of the book- and it’s prob just a coincidence and the person who wrote it is obvs delulu but damn was it Interesting. Especially as a literature geek, that was a fun post to read. Very engaging. Bulletproof larrys blog is a hilarious place. And I am absolutely not a Larrie bc I just don’t have the time and energy to read into this now unlikely theory anymore. Not when all logic points to it being false all along. And not when the cult leaders are doll lady and Gina the fan fic lady. Both misogynistic assholes who are solo harries in disguise.

But the 1d fandom has been such a core part of my life that I simply cannot let it go. And why would I if I love being here? My happiest memories are 1D concerts and tumblr discussions and jokes and all types of ppl who ship different things and have different lanes and opinions coming together to just have fun. Like the day Eleanor and Lou broke up most of us were genuinely there for each other, just making jokes and talking abt how we miss and love her(bc god was 2015 a mess and what came after was all the crazy theories and confusing times). Only the toxic larries like I doll lady and lassurex(I think?) were being assholes that day and onward. The tumblr community on here was, by in large, a wonderful (dare I say safe for my introverted ass w only online friends at the time) place. And this fandom was SO SO SO huge that we usually squashed the rude peeps under a boot and went back to making jokes.

I do have plenty of friends who are still Larry shippers/larries, engage in the fandom, etc. It isn’t that deep for me or them- we’re just doing our thing. And they’re Def not toxic or crazy like the cult leaders. They’re just spectating and agreeing w certain things. I can’t relate- but I don’t like argue w them. I’m still streaming their music till this day( u can’t tell me what a feeling isn’t a BOP like it’s a B O P). (And strong has no right making me feel things in 2021). I still play the last 3 albums a couple times a month.I still watch some old videos and interviews where their youthful and vibrant personalities shine through… especially the ones from the midnight memories era bc that was the best era. I still read Larry fics(💀) bc it’s just fun. One of the best things I’ve ever read is that young & beautiful fan fiction. Truly a skilled writer. And yes in a fictional world I do ship it idc if all the other anons will have my head for it. The chemistry was v much there during those years, U won’t convince me otherwise. U can’t make me Unsee what I still see when I watch those interviews and vids. I do see the nature of their relationship during those years as suspicious and very intense and idgaf if I’m just crazy for it cus I’m not actively pushing it and pretending I know the facts. And fuck is it fun to do these things in my free time. And that’s the purpose of fandom. To have fun. None of this is that deep. And this was a fandom for those of us born in the 90s/early 2000s. Our middle school or high school or college years WERE these 5 kids. Some maintained their authenticity. Some fell off. Some- Idk. Some’s solo stuff I enjoy, some I don’t. Some I think are secretly assholes cough mr homewrecker, the rest I think are good at their core(Exept Liam I’m eh on him but I wish him the very best.) I don’t Stan them per se anymore(though I’m still emotionally attached to 1/2 of the Larry ship cough it’s not the one we hate on), but they’ll always mean a lot to me. And when any of them drop an album I will listen. Even when hs3 drops I’ll be a masochist and listen to him whine about cockburn. That’s just what it means to be a directioner. And yk what the Larry ship was so much fun for us fans but it caused sm harm to these real ppl- I wish ppl would’ve accepted it’s just a fantasy of two men who just have this intense chemistry, and likely a deep bond(that WASNT A ROMANCE.) I wish ppl would’ve accepted it when they denied it, even if their behavior was, like I said, intense and suspicious, it’s not the fandoms business. These boys were overworked asf I’m sure they didn’t appreciate us bugging them 24/7 abt it. And clearly, larries were wrong abt their perception of this bond. And if Larry ever were something *more* it’s sure as hell over now. Mr Donny chav and mr homewrecker probably never want a teenager daughter who’s allowed on the internet bc us teenage girls basically ruined a lot for them. And yk what? I feel guilt for the very minimal part I played in it. Even if it was never too serious for me- I should’ve called out some Tin hat behavior some mutuals displayed.

.

[coeurvrai]

Last we left off, Nadya passed out for the billionth time after escaping from the room where she was imprisoned and was found by Malachiasz. This time, Nadya wakes up bandaged in a room at the top of Pelageya’s tower.

Pelageya tells Nadya that she knows who she and Malachiasz really are and is aware of her status as a Cleric, because “this palace has been without any blessing of the divine for so long that you were practically shining when you stepped inside.”

“Though,” she considered, tugging at a spiral curl, “he’s not your king. Not mine, either. He’s not even sterevyani bolen’s king, now, is he? Is it treason if we all here swear to different crowns? Except…” Her gaze narrowed on Malachiasz. “You can’t really swear to your own crown, now can you?”

“Careful…” he murmured. He flexed his hand over the arm of his chair, nails flashing iron in the dim candlelight.

Shut the fuck up, Malachiasz. Also @jefflion​ already told me this particular spoiler, that Malachiasz is actually the Queen’s illegitimate child, so I’m both annoyed but also it kind of makes sense? Because either way, Malachiasz wants the crown and sees the crown as his.

Pelageya explains that a certain Vulture rose up the ranks and found out a way to attain godhood, so he told the King in a way to strengthen the relationship between the court and the Vultures; because the previous “Vulture queen” was ruining the sect and the Black Vulture wanted equal power. And so King Izak wanted to perform the ceremony, to give him the power he desperately craved.

“The Vulture disappeared. Poof! There one night, gone the next, leaving his cult to scramble in his absence. Because the Vultures need direction, they need their Black Vulture to lead them, and he had vanished.”

Nadya was listening at a distance, refusing to let the witch’s words catch up to her, to connect all that she was hearing, but she knew, she knew. Would that it had been so simple, that Malachiasz were just a Vulture recruit who got scared and fled. The world was falling out from underneath her and she had no anchor, she had nothing, because nothing was even real.

AND NADYA PUTS TWO AND TWO TOGETHER.

Look, I’ve been 99% sure from the start because that’s what happens when you advertise your book as a villain romance and also say it’s for Alina/Darkling shippers. The plot twist isn’t really a plot twist.

It was Malachiasz. It had always been Malachiasz. The leader of the cult, the one who had spun all of this into motion, the one who had smiled and charmed his way into Nadya’s trust because he could do terrible things with her power if he had access to it. She wouldn’t be sitting here with bandages covering her body if not for Malachiasz.

Look, you didn’t have to listen to him. You didn’t even have to go with him and Rashid and Parijahan to that church, because you had no reason to trust him or believe their plans or to even stick around to hear their plans. You, by all rights, shouldn’t had no actual reason to have been in that situation in the first place.

It’d be more believable if the book had gone along that Nadya was naive and unbelievably sheltered and that had a great effect on her nature and how she interacted with people.

But we literally threw away any semblance of that out of the window by Chapter 2 to double down that Nadya is Independent and Capable and Can Make Her Own Decisions and her upbringing at the monastery and especially as a Cleric has no greater effect on her perception of the world and her social skills.

Also you still haven’t found out what he did with your blood that one time!!!

“But he fled?” Nadya asked. If she pretended the one they were speaking of wasn’t sitting in front of them, listening in calm contemplation, maybe that would make this easier.

“He did,” Pelageya said. “But he came back. Do you think that is coincidence? That this clever boy and his clever magic have returned now?”

“Malachiasz?” Nadya said, her voice smaller than she would have liked, weaker. She willed him to look at her.

He looked different, sitting in the witch’s chair in a way that made it seem almost a throne. His black hair parted far on the right side, falling over his shoulder in inky waves, his pale eyes cold and blank. Less a boy, more a monster. Was that all he was? The silly boy who smiled too much and felt too deeply just a mask for the monster underneath?

Had she fallen for his lies exactly as he wanted her to?

I am going to scream.

You literally have called him a fucking monster and an Abomination and a Heretic ALL of the time, just to remind us that, yes, you still consider him an Enemy even though your hatred is paper thin and not at all believable even though your hatred for Tranavia and Vultures especially is supposed to be Important to your character.

But yes, you did.

He finally met her gaze, eyes softening, growing familiar. “It’s all right, towy dżimyka,” he said, voice soft.

It wasn’t. Not at all.

Pelageya laughed. “Is that supposed to make her feel better?” She stood up, walking around Malachiasz’s chair. “Is that supposed to earn her trust again?” She hooked a finger underneath his chin, forcing his gaze up to hers. She looked young. Nadya didn’t know when the shift had happened but knew the witch was a force of nature. A magic just as old and dangerous as either of them possessed, made worse by the wisdom of her years. “What have you done, Chelvyanik Sterevyani?” she whispered. “What will you still do? I don’t think love is such a force that it will stop you. I’m not sure you’re even capable of it.”

Okay, words are just getting thrown around now.

Also, bullshit! It’s not even something close to love. It’s more lust and attraction than anything else. They barely know each other! So of course love isn’t going to be able to stop him because there isn’t love between him and Nadya, because there hasn’t been time for love to develop between them.

Also this isn’t an enemies-to-lovers dynamic. I know I’ve said that before, but I want to just say it again. This isn’t enemies-to-lovers.

Nadya starts to have a moment, blaming herself and then saying that maybe he had changed, maybe they had changed him, maybe Pelageya is just trying to make trouble.

“I just want to end what I started,” Malachiasz finally said.

Ah yes, with a king dead at your feet and a crown sitting on your head.

Pelageya carries on, throwing around more words:  

“But, this isn’t just about you, Veshyen Yaliknevo. Chelvyanik Sterevyani. Sterevyani bolen.” She sat down on the arm of his chair and he shifted to the opposite side, as far from her as he could possibly get. “This is about the little scrap of divinity you’ve drawn to the depths of Tranavia.”

Nadya lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to let them see she was falling apart.

“She followed you a long, long way from home. What did you tell her to make her come so far without putting a blade in your back?”

Nothing too difficult, really. Just that they had a plan to assassinate the Tranavian King and for some reason, Nadya just went along with honestly without that much fuss, because y’know, the plot demanded it.

Also, as much as I find Pelageya amusing and intriguing, the way she’s being all touchy-touchy with Malachiasz, who is still a teenager, slightly uncomfortable.

“... Now that you point it out she does have the look of a girl who goes for—” She leaned over and tipped Malachiasz’s head back again, baring his throat. His fist clenched over the arm of the chair, nails now just long enough to be visible claws. “—sensitive flesh.”

Like, could you not? We get that Pelageya is creepy and strange already, Emily Duncan, you established that in a Serefin chapter with the prophecy thing.

“I never told her anything that wasn’t true,” he said, voice carefully restrained.

Lie by omission is still a lie, mate. What you omitted was pretty important. I mean, it was obvious and I already knew it, but still.

Pelageya still keeps creepily touching Malachiasz and Malachiasz keeps trying to find excuses for everything, insisting that they’re going to end the war. 

“Why are you here, Malachiasz?”

“I have told you. My reasoning hasn’t changed just because you know what I am now. I want to save my country. I’m one of the few people who can; surely you understand that.”

He was giving her nothing, less than nothing.

“I don’t believe you,” she said softly.

That’s one of the smartest things Nadya has ever said, and that’s saying something.

Nadya, who didn’t know how to hold herself together after this. Nadya, who couldn’t pull her gaze away from Malachiasz, unable to reconcile that the boy she had traded jokes with, that she had kissed, was a symbol of Tranavian heresy. A monster greater than all others.

I- you literally knew that he was a Vulture. That made him “heretical” as is. You knew he was powerful, you literally he was more powerful than Serefin! You called him a monster.

I know, objectively, that this is supposed to be a betrayal for you but you can’t just act like you haven’t been calling him all these things for 75% of the book!

She thought she knew what she was doing, coming here, but now she was in a foreign country, surrounded by her enemies, and the one she had anchored her safety to had been lying to her from the start.

Because the plot demanded that you trust him and go along with their plan even though you had no real reason to.

Pelageya tells her that the entity connected to the necklace that Kostya gave to her is called Velyos, a former member of the Pantheon. That the reason she is cut off from the gods currently is because King Izak is strengthening that “veil” of blood magic that hangs over the capital. 

“There is your magic, which is good, of course. And then their magic. Blood magic. Heresy.”

“It’s just magic,” Malachiasz said.

Still haven’t explained why Marzenya just can’t fuck shit up when magic is one of her domains, plain and simple. And yes, you can argue “the veil” but the veil is still made from magic. It still hasn’t explained why blood magic is so different and untouchable when blood magic is still, at its core, magic.

Pelageya tells Nadya that a witch is just someone with magic of their own, not beholden to the gods. Nadya balks at the thought. Pelageya taunts them both, stating that Malachiasz doesn’t have the power of Vultures that he once did.

The witch had said it to sow more discord, but if he didn’t have full control of the Vultures, maybe that meant he actually was helping them? She shouldn’t give in to hope. She hated that she was so damn hopeful.

I’m rolling my eyes, because Nadya is being predictable at this point and I have no hope for any character consistency besides the fact that it's inconsistent.

A sudden insistent knock on the door made all three of them pause. Then a voice, terrifyingly familiar, came from outside.

“Pelageya? I need to speak with you.”

Of course it would be the prince.

And that’s the end of Chapter 26! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!

[romaniassexdungeon]

Two Lucas? Drama at Lu-topia!

Luca Morgens- Luxembourg

Tolli- Iceland

Luca Rotaru- Moldova (copyright @phyripo™)

Plus a LadKug cameo

…

File name is ‘Luca discourse ™ meta ™’.

Based on the rather amusing coincidence of myself and @phyripo giving each half of LuxMold the name Luca, but hey, people share names all the time (I’ve known about 10 James for one). Kind of a silly jokefic based on that (the only other idea I had was adult them having a running joke of “I can’t believe you called your own name during sex” but I’m still trying to regain the dignity lost in the NSFW OTP challenge sooo…). This isn’t supposed to be all that in-character, by the way. It’s just me trying to be funny.

This is short and stupid and I don’t know why I keep coming up with LuxMold high school Aus™ of all things… they’re just around that age, I guess. Also it’s set in an English high school because I’m lazy like that.

Anyway, hope @phyripo and the 5 or so other LuxMold shippers like this… thing.

Can we just settle this discourse by agreeing I am the alpha Luca? (Okay I’m a Luka bUT OHWELL).

…

Luca Morgens was almost certain he was not meant to be here.

Since when did he get detention? Well, there was that time he turned up to school hungover, forgetting he had a two-hour chemistry lesson about alcohols of all things, and promptly throwing up all over his notes. That had been the grimmest day of his life so far, in all honesty.

But aside from that- !- he’d never gotten a detention in his life- and the previous event had actually resulted in a week’s suspension and a concerned phonecall to his brother anyway, so technically his slate was still spotless.

So why the hell had his form tutor only today informed him of a month’s worth of detentions- starting with this one right here. How? What could he have possibly done to warrant a whole month of his life spent writing lines after school as punishment?

Seriously, what had he done?

It was the art teacher he’d cheesed off, apparently, given that he was now surrounded by drying racks and A1 sized card paintings, mostly depicting detailed and often surreal portraits, and then his own vase of flowers, inspired by the likes of Jan Brueghel the elder and Ambrosius Bosschaert, and others from the Dutch Golden Age. It was with great amusement that he’d linked his brother’s own love of gardening to the Dutch Flowers movement and thus his inspiration for GCSE art- though actually painting in such detail was a challenge he’d not quite grasped until it came to practicing his own paintings. But boy had it been a struggle to finish every little detail in two days.

All in all, Luca was proud of the work he’d put into his final piece, finished only today at the end of a grueling, two-day exam, so why the hell was he here? He didn’t like getting in trouble, not in the slightest, and hadn’t done anything to offend Mr Kirkland. Well, not deliberately.

“The hell did you do?”

The teacher had yet to arrive, and so far there were only three- now four- students waiting for him: Luca, two strange-looking pipsqueaks from a few years below him, and now his mate Tolli. To be honest, they only really talked in the art and history lessons they shared, but the boy seemed nice enough.

And apparently had been discovered to be the one who changed every desktop screen in the graphics design computer room to a picture of Robbie Rotten. Oh well. He’d tried to get away with it.

“I don’t know,” he hissed back as the guy sat next to him, “seriously, what could I have done to tick the fellow off?”

“I don’t know,” Tolli gave a little shrug, “I can’t remember anything ya did… Are you crying?”

“…No.”

“Were ya crying?”

“Maybe,” Luca almost sobbed.

Tolli’s eyebrows knotted together. “You cried… over a detention?”

“That a problem?” Yes, yes he’d cried over his first ever detention, okay? Not only was it a new experience for him, but he’d somehow done something so bad-

How did a person even get a month’s worth of detention? What did they have to fuck up to get that result? Luca was almost impressed at himself.

“What about those two?” Tolli nodded over at the pair of what were clearly future art students- one had tied his hair in multicoloured ribbons and the other somehow had paint on his face. Not that Luca had particularly cared to people watch at that moment in time. They seemed a little couply though, practically on each other’s laps as they cuddled.

“Don’t know.”

“What’re ye in for?” he called to the pair.

“Painting nudes for homework,” paint-face called back.

Okay. Luca was officially done with trying to understand young people. Yes, he was only sixteen but anyone younger was beyond reasoning now. Then again, the inner mechanisms of Mr Kirkland’s mind could be a complete mystery too.

“Oh! I got it!” Tolli snapped his fingers for emphasis, “Luca Rotaru!”

“Morgens. I’m Luca Morgens, remember?” Christ, had Tolli been paying that little attention to his life?

Tolli just raised an eyebrow at that. “No, Luca Rotaru in year nine!”

“Who?” There was another Luca in the school? Now that he thought of it, it was hardly some miraculous coincidence. Luca wasn’t the rarest of names.

“Really?” For some reason, Tolli looked absolutely astounded at his friend’s ignorance. “I barely care and even I know about Rotaru.”

“Why? Is he famous or something?” He either had celebrities for parents or had set fire to his previous school. Luca was hoping for the latter, to an extent.

“Famous for being weird as shit,” Tolli was saying, “he’s that kid who brought in a real live hamster and set it loose in the greenhouse, remember?”

“Oh, that guy.” Nice to place a name to an incident.

Tolli just looked like he was happy to be getting somewhere. “Yes, that guy. The one who drew a pentagram in the gym. That guy. Doesn’t own a pair of underwear guy. Claims his brother knows how to summon Satan guy.”

“He sounds… disturbed.” Maybe he had burnt down his previous school after all, and a hospital, an Aldi and a couple nursing homes. Also what the actual fuck was wrong with this kid?

“He probably is. I don’t think he has parents.”

“Does that really excuse vandalism?”

Tolli just shrugged.

Maybe he had something more to say, but Mr Kirkland’s arrival prevented him from speaking another word, like why the hell were they talking about a wannabe Satanist and how did they get onto the subject?

“Separate tables,” Mr Kirkland growled in greeting, indicating to the pair of now rather dejected duos. Well detention sure sounded fun. Luca wanted to crawl under a pile of paintings and cry.

“Morgens, what are you doing here?”

Being miserable and a little ashamed of himself. “I don’t actually know, sir.” Might as well be honest- and at least this way he could get some answers. Unless Mr Kirkland decided the best course of action was to fly off the rails for no reason, like teachers tended to do.

But Mr Kirkland just ran a hand through his hair with a groan. “That may be because you’re not meant to be here at all.”

“I’m not?” What was this? A song in his heart? A cloud beneath him? A light spring breeze in his hair?

“No, it seems your name must’ve been mixed with another’s at some point.” Mr Kirkland seemed unwilling to name names, but Luca could guess who the real hooligan was.

“So I can take my leave now?” he asked, causing yet another eye roll from Tolli.

“Yes you may; sorry for keeping you, lad.”

…

Well, that was the other Luca, supposedly.

Luca M. hadn’t been too sure what he was expecting, but a scruffy borderline feral fourteen year old wandering about a crowded school corridor seemed about right. Very little of what Luca R. was wearing seemed to be the correct school uniform, but given his track record, that probably wasn’t the school’s biggest concern for once.

Everything about him screamed tryhard, needless eccentricities though, from the necklace made of old Halloween fangs, to the fur coat whose original owner might have had the mange, to the somewhat disturbing lack of shoes. Did he… not come to school with shoes? Did he even own a pair? He, apparently, went out of the way to buy his own miniature hat, so why not even a cheap pair?

Was this even something he could find out? Luca M. couldn’t exactly ask such a thing in polite conversation.

Besides, he had a job to do and should honestly stop staring at the kid from afar because it probably looked creepy.

“Hey,” he called, keeping his voice as soft yet audible as possible, “Luca Rotaru, right?”

Luca R. jumped at that, spinning round slightly and glancing up with a pair of massive doe eyes, like he’d been caught taking ecstasy, or was a cat begging for food. It probably would’ve been cuter if he was a manga character, as opposed to a real life teenage boy.

“Um, yes? Oh gosh, what have I done now?”

“Erm, nothing,” Luca M. replied in surprise. Well, nothing he actually knew of that recently happened. Even the hamster incident had been a month or so ago.

“Oh, hello,” he held out a hand awkwardly, “I’m Luca Morgens.”

The adorable edgelord smiled at that. “Hello fellow Luca!” The way he said that made Luca M. wonder if the kid was about to ask him to join a secret cult of people named Luca.

Could they drink at cult meetings? Because he might consider it (exam season had more or less broken him at this point).

“Well, erm,” he licked his lips trying to find the right words, “your presence is required at… erm, well, detention with Mr Kirkland. For the next month.”

“Oh.” Luca R. seemed to deflate at that, giving a half-hearted shrug that ruffled the remaining fur on his coat. “I suppose I had it coming.”

“What did you even do?” The words were out of Luca M’s mouth before he could stop them. “I mean, if you don’t mind my ask-“

“I tried to make a new mother in art,” Luca R. explained, “and one of the kids in my class called me a dickhead so I punched him.”

“Ah.” Almost cute. If cute was tragic mixed with unnerving.

“Why did sit ask you to deliver the message though?” asked Luca R. as the other Luca turned to leave. Oh.

“There was a mixup,” he explained, “probably something to do with us being the only ‘Luca’s in the school.” Or to his knowledge, at least.

“Oh you didn’t have to sit my detention, did you?” Luca R. looked horrified at the thought, a hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

“Not at all; it was all sorted out fine,” Luca M. tried his best to look reassuring, but wasn’t sure discount Luca actually believed him.

“Oh I’m so sorry.” Now they were holding hands… why? Luca R. sure had a sweet side to him, hidden somewhere under the weird. “Let me make it up to you!”

“Really, it’s-“

“No, I feel really bad about it.” His little bottom lip started wobbling, and Luca M. simply sighed.

“We can hang out sometime, if that’s okay with you.” A rather simple but ingenious plan was beginning to form in his head: if he befriended Luca R, he could buy him a pair of shoes for his birthday.

“Yeah! That sounds really fun, Luca!”