#I still really like it :)

[punkinspice]

So it’s Zelink week thanks to @zelinkcommunity and I really only had the energy to do the first prompt Under the Stars and I just had to do it with my original otp, TP Zelink.

I just love them so much and it’s so fun and interesting to think about them and the events post TP and how Hyrule could rebuild and revive and how they could potentially fall in love. Zelda could learn how to process her grief and loss with the destruction of her castle and kingdom, and having the whole of Hyrule pull together and help rebuild. Link could also learn to process his grief and trauma of what exactly it took to be the hero of Hyrule, and what does one do with oneself when that role is not really needed anymore…

Link could come to Castletown to help rebuild to help bring him a new sense of purpose, as the calm life of Ordon just isn't the same of what it used to be because he's not the same person he was when he left. While Zelda could come to Ordon with Link and learn how to rest and feel revived with the simple but hard work of farm life, and the kids would all adore her and put flowers in her hair, and Link could finally tell Zelda his sincere mixed feelings of everything that happened with them and Midna and the Twili because she’s really the only other one who knows and understands what he went through, and maybe Link begins to see who Zelda is outside of being the crown princess of Hyrule, and maybe Zelda starts seeing Link for who he is outside of being the Hero of Hyrule and aaaaagh there’s just so much there to work with.

They’re all each other has with the depths of what really happened, and man. Rip to the fanfic I had of them that lived perpetually in my mind and will probably never see the light of day. 😭

[bananas-mode]

Rrrrr new pfp

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Suffs

April 23, 2024 | Broadway | Music Box Theatre | Evening | Musical | Original | 2H 30M

The changes and improvements to Suffs since its off-Broadway run have been staggering, to no surprise. A show must be allowed time to change and evolve before coming to Broadway and not all shows this season bothered to take that time. By refraining from making that mad dash to the Great White Way, Suffs has become an entirely new show with a tighter narrative, better pacing, and a clearer aim. And yet, something must always be lost. Ultimately, the bite was lost.

The show is good. It's a solid piece of storytelling with a better score than most right now. The design was given a Broadway facelift, complete with better costumes, and a bigger budget set design. Lighting design improved and shone. And yet on this vast Broadway-sized stage, it feels smaller. Softer. A pinch instead of a sting. In a smaller off-Broadway venue, a cast of twenty feels grandiose. On the vast, deep, massive Broadway stage, a cast of seventeen gets swallowed up. For the most part, the Broadway show takes place on one level, leaving the set design to tower over the actors. This, I have to assume, is a purposeful decision, though I'm still not certain of its efficacy. While I didn't necessarily like the utilitarian set off-Broadway, it split the stage into several levels, and the women felt larger than life. They demanded space and they took it.

The changes and cuts were necessary. The show is structurally rock-solid. I admire and applaud a musical theatre composer and writer who is able to kill her darlings in pursuit of creating something better to be proud of. It is a good show. I will be seeing it again. I will like it.

But the show on Broadway only ever comes within reach of grabbing you by the throat. It never quite gets there. It's resonant, it's relevant, but it is not riveting. Tension was lost in translation. The other version may not have been well-paced, but the fear and tension loomed large. I remember leaving The Public Theater ready to burn something to the ground. I left the Music Box pleased, but not radicalized.

Verdict: A Lovely Night

A Note on Ratings

[shayneysides]

I’m thinking of Mary saying she mostly kept to herself before Annie showed up, and Robin and Humphrey not seeming to be very close either. Thinking about Humphrey being physically unable to move himself around, seek anyone else out. Has he ever just sat in one place for months on end when nobody remembered he was there? Has he ever spent years having rolled under a bed, nobody noticing he’s missing? He’s spent 500 years trapped like this. Do you think Humphrey has learned to let himself slip out of consciousness, or out of reality, so he wouldn’t have just sit and think and think and think for the months he went unmoved? Maybe he’s lost his sense of time entirely. Has it been days or years he’s been sitting here? He doesn’t know. He’s not sure he cares. Maybe it’ll be another 500 years until he moves on. Hopefully this time it’ll just feel like a few months.

[actually-a-ghost]

very cool of anamanaguchi to put the sub boss theme in the final fight for literally just me and nobody else.

[just-a-funny-little-brain]

Death, Again

Critical Role: Bells Hells, Laudna, 880 words

Summary: Laudna is greeted by the Raven Queen's Champion.

tw: death, canonical character death

Read it on ao3

---------

Laudna was greeted this time.

That was the first thing she noticed. The silhouetted figure was tall, a cloak obscuring the details of their form as they approached. 

The second thing she noticed was the calm. It was almost comforting, even. The chaos of the battle preceding it—

Dust blowing. Yells. Run, Laudna! Orym falling. Ashton running. Feet against dirt street until—

Now, it was still. Dark, but she could still see. Silhouettes of trees scattered through the distance— or were they nearby? Last time... well, she didn’t want to think about last time.

After a time (what is time when you’re dead?), the figure stopped. Closer now, Laudna assumed, though their size hadn’t changed. She could see more detail now. The cloak was rough, made of some overlapping material. Scales? Feathers? The figure had long, flowing dark hair, somehow visible against the dark sky. Their face… they had the head of a raven, yet also a humanoid. She squinted through the overlapping illusions.

“Welcome,” the figure said. He had a smooth, calming voice.

“Hello,” Laudna replied, feigning confidence she did not feel. “Erm… where am I, if i may ask?”

The figure looked at her. “I think you know.” 

He began extending a hand towards her, then stopped. He took another step closer, the raven head fading into his humanoid one. Half-elf, she could see now. Gently, he cupped her chin with his hand and tilted it up towards him. 

“You’ve been here before.”

A statement, not a question. Laudna blinked, then nodded anyway.

“You weren’t here last time.”

The figure sighed. “I know. I did see you, though.”

“What? How?”

The figure dropped his hand from her face. “It does not matter. This was many, many years ago. I was someone else then.”

Laudna cocked her head. “So was I. Tell me.”

He looked at her for a moment, before looking intently into the distance, examining something unseen.

“My name then was Vax’ildan,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “Myself and my… compatriots had traveled to Whitestone to remove the Briarwoods. When we arrived, we found figures waiting for us on the Suntree.” He sighed. “Including you.” He looked away. 

Laudna breathed out an “Oh”. Then, “You were part of Vox Machina. I stayed in the area for a little while, you know. I heard about you. People really liked you.”

Vax’ildan bowed his head. “I am so sorry that happened to you.” He took a breath and met her eyes once more. “And I am sorry that I was not there to greet you. But I am now. Come.” He turned and began to walk away.

Laudna bounded after him. “I have so many questions. Did you really—“

Vax’ildan held up his hand to silence her, then paused, as if listening intently.

“It seems… it seems now is not your time. Your thread had broken, but it is being repaired.” He turned and looked her in the eyes, the sudden intensity startling her. “You have some very lucky friends who love you deeply. Treasure that, and never let them go.“

Laudna? Laudna, please. 

Imogen’s voice whispered through the darkness, growing stronger with each word. 

We need you. I need you. 

Laudna glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice, but Imogen was nowhere to be seen.

I can’t… I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to do this alone. Not without you. Never without you.

She looked back at her guide. Vax’ildan looked back at her, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t want to see you or your friends here for a long time. I have a feeling you will do great things. Now, go.” He gestured behind her, and where there had previously been nothing but darkness, there was now a pinprick of gentle light, quickly growing larger and brighter.

Laudna turned towards the light, barely daring to approach it.

“And Laudna?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. The light illuminated his face and the feathered cloak now.

“Tell Orym that Will says hi.”

And with that, the blinding light engulfed her, pulling, forcing out her non-existent breath, piercing—

A desperate, ragged breath of air filled Laudna’s lungs, and she barely had time to open her eyes as a blur of purple hair nearly smothered her again.

“Imogen?” She forced out through a parched, scratchy throat.

“Oh gods, Laudna, we thought we had lost you for good,” Imogen said her voice muffled by fabric and tears.

Brushing the hair from her face, Laudna looked up. Ashton, sitting slumped against a wall, face buried in their hands. Fearne, right by Laudna’s shoulder, looking at her very intently. FCG, standing nearby, the white glow of their eyes fading to their normal blue. Orym, standing a respectful distance away, knuckles white, clutching the edge of his shield, his face unreadable. Dorian behind him, hand on the halfling’s shoulder.

“Oh.” She looked down, now noticing something soft in her hand. Paté looked back at her, and she smiled. “Thank you,” she said, quietly. “Thank you, all of you.”

“Of course,” Fearne said. “We couldn’t just leave you. Ashton keeps saying, ‘Nobody gets left behind,’ so we weren’t about to leave you.”

And Laudna could have sworn, somewhere, distantly, she heard a raven caw its approval.

[chenziee]

Freedom

Second piece for the @yamabrozine! This time full of Ace, fluff and ~pain~ 👹🔥

Shout out to my beta again, both for the help and for leaving wonderful live commentary of "don't make me ship them", "who would WANT to go there?!" and "oh fuck you". Love you <3

[ Read on AO3 | Yamato zine fics ]

--------

When he had woken up that morning, Yamato hadn't expected to make a friend. But then evening came and with it, pirates.

Angry pirates, too young and hot headed—literally—for their own good. It was lucky Kaido wasn’t there, if only because that made it possible for Yamato to fight their captain himself; to test his power, to see him free the captive children, to break the large dragon statue at the entrance to Onigashima, and with it, the chains Kaido had around his soul.

The moment he swung his kanabo at the statue which represented Kaido’s power, it was like something snapped. Something that had restrained him, kept him from spreading his wings and even dreaming of flying.

Now, he felt light, like the sky boats that the people of Wano set free during the Fire Festival; the ones that Yamato could only watch float into the sky from his confines of Onigashima. He knew they were sent as messages to the dead… but every time he saw them, he couldn’t help but think how much freedom those messages—and the dead who received them—had.

But now, with the statue destroyed, its broken off head lying at Yamato’s feet…

He knew he, too, would fly one day. Not today, maybe not even once the dawn finally came to Wano.

But one day… he was going to leave.

“Why are you suddenly looking so serious?”

Yamato jumped at Ace’s words. He stared at the man for a moment, trying to gather his lost thoughts. “You came here from the East Blue, right?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Yeah?” Ace blinked at Yamato in confusion.

“Have you seen the island in the sky?!” Yamato questioned eagerly.

“Which one?” Ace shot back, a smirk on his lips.

Yamato gasped; he could swear his heart skipped a beat too. “There’s more than one?!”

At that, Ace laughed, loud and full of amusement. It took him a while to calm down enough to reply, “Yes. Though I haven’t actually been yet. They’re a real bitch to get to.”

“That’s amazing!” Yamato cried, a giggle on his lips as he let himself fall back; he laid on the ground, arms spread out while he grinned at the stars above. 

It was real.

“And the island where lightning falls like rain?” Yamato mumbled, breathless.

“Deuce nearly murdered me when we arrived on that one! It was fun though.” Ace burst out in laughter all over again, no doubt at the memory of his serious first mate and navigator absolutely losing his shit over his captain’s reckless decisions.

And Yamato…

Laughed.

Twice tonight, a weight was lifted off his shoulders. First, his chains.

And now, his doubts about the crazy places that Oden had described—dismissed so easily. It wasn’t made up. It wasn’t exaggerated. Those places really existed, just waiting for Yamato to make his way there and experience them for himself.

Waiting for him to create his own adventures.

—————

A small smile played on Yamato’s lips as he thought back to that night almost two years ago. It felt like yesterday that he had interrogated Ace about every little thing in Oden’s journal, listened to his stories, sighed at Ace’s endless boasting about his brother.

Now, Yamato was alone again… but he wasn’t lonely anymore.

Letting go of the sky boat in his hands, Yamato watched as it rose up to the sky, floating up and up and up, away from Onigashima.

Free.

Yamato’s smile didn’t falter when a single tear slid down his cheek.

“Goodbye, Ace.”

[zinabug]

huevember day 6! I tried mixing in the complimentary colour and I really like how it turned out.

[ID: a digital painting in blue and orange of a smiling half-elf with dark skin, white curly hair, and several piercings and scars, including a snakebite piercing and scar horizontal across her face. She is wearing a very pale orange sleeveless armoured dress with chain mail, sections of padding and a section of plates around the chest and shoulders. She also has on a high-collared blue cape with flames decorating the collar and hem. She is wearing gauntlets, and is raising a flaming longsword above her head. The fire is illuminating the scene]

[endspace-robot]

roja, roja la sangre

que corre por las calles

[ladysantos]

an old karlach i never got to finish

[fuckinnear]

everybody Must say hello to burger boy immediately

[stargirl230]

you’re my hero!

bnha doomed yuri was not on my 2024 bingo card

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[gotchibam]

Chandelure ko-fi doodle for solar!

[verflares]

just how long is forever? // not long enough, with you

pssst. check this out on inprnt :]

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Dunno how to put it properly into words but lately I find myself thinking more about that particular innocence of fairy tales, for lack of better word. Where a traveller in the middle of a field comes across an old woman with a scythe who is very clearly Death, but he treats her as any other auntie from the village. Or meeting a strange green-skinned man by the lake and sharing your loaf of bread with him when he asks because even though he's clearly not human, your mother's last words before you left home were to be kind to everyone. Where the old man in the forest rewards you for your help with nothing but a dove feather, and when you accept even such a seemingly useless reward with gratitude, on your way home you learn that it's turned to solid gold. Where supernatural beings never harm a person directly and every action against humans is a test of character, and every supernatural punishment is the result of a person bringing on their own demise through their own actions they could have avoided had they changed their ways. Where the hero wins for no other reason than that they were a good person. I don't have the braincells to describe this better right now but I wish modern fairy tales did this more instead of trying to be fantasy action movies.

[sergle]

the threshold has been crossed, it is now springtime!!