#and the whole eternal youth thing obviously

[greenhoodiegremlin-blog]

i see your “wu and garmadon started aging because they were separated/in different realms” and raise you;

its not just about them growing older. wu gives up immortality and becomes more human, less god, while garmadon starts turning into some sort of eldritch horror. into something inhuman. idk idk its just. such a wide divide.

[ronanlynchbf]

"all this foreshadowing abt declan dying and then he didn't even die" well personally i think declan got murdered dead by mstief in greywaren so. actually 2 me he did die. Badly.

[ngayawneluoer]

we seek revenge

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam x reader (past), neytiri x reader (platonic), tbh mostly just a spider hate fic, if you like spider you’re prolly not gonna like this lol

Time doesn't seem to heal the wound of losing you mate, and when the sky people return and you learn the truth, no one can stop you from seeking revenge. Set a year after the events of ATWOW.

word count: 1700

a/n: pov you and neytiri form a spider hate club and beat his ass (sort of)

Even a year later, every breath you took without Neteyam felt like eternal punishment. Every moment you felt the loss of your mate and every step you took without him was only a reminder that you would never feel whole again. Every day, you suffered and mourned the pair you could have been and the life you could have lived, and every night you prayed that Eywa would bring him back or take you with him. But it was never that simple.

And so, you busied yourself with the daily tasks of the Metkayina, your head held high and your face unwavering. At least you had Neytiri, who never seemed to leave your side since her son's death. You mourned, suffered, and cried together, and as time passed, you helped each other get back on your feet and brave the world. To her, you were one final living piece of her son, his other half and the one he loved most, and she couldn't help but love you in turn. She had become like a mother to you, and whilst you knew you would never be able to replace Neteyam, your shared memories of him brought you closer together. And obviously, you bore the whole Sully family in your heart, but you and Neytiri had developed a special bond through the pain you shared and the rage you held for the sky demons that had so mercilessly killed the one you loved.

Another thing you shared with Neytiri was the wariness you felt towards Spider, who Jake had wholly accepted into the family following Neteyam's death. You had grown up around him, but being nothing more than a regular Omatikaya with almost no interaction with humans, you never were the most comfortable with him. The emotion had only doubled after his 'father' brought about the war that killed your beloved. Those around you started accepting him, but you kept your distance, as did Neytiri. You couldn't find it in your hearts to forgive him.

“(Y/N)! Come swim with us!"

The voice broke your train of thought, and you looked up from the bracelet you were weaving. From where you sat next to Neytiri, your eyes found Kiri waving at you from amongst the group of Na'vi youths splashing about in the water. You noticed Spider was there too, practically clinging to her side like a pathetic dog. You tried not to roll your eyes.

"No thank you, Kiri," You answered loud enough for her to hear, trying your hardest to mask the venom in your voice, "Later."

A sad pout graced her face for a mere second, and you knew what was coming. You usually rejected her offers, and she would rarely take no for an answer, opting instead to drag you into the group and make it so that you had no choice but to participate. Sometimes she would even send Tuk to guilt trip you into joining with those adorable eyes of hers, knowing you could never say no to Tuk.

You knew Kiri meant well; she simply saw you pull away and didn't want you to feel left out. Lucky for you, this time she was distracted by Rotxo pulling her tail, and she forgot all about her usual routine of demanding you to join. Better this way. You wouldn't have enjoyed yourself anyway.

Neytiri looked up from the arrow she was crafting, a somewhat curious look on her face. She spoke quietly, deliberately to keep the conversation private from possible overhearers, "I don't see you with those your age lately," her fingers continued crafting, but her focus was still on you, awaiting an answer. Finally, when your gaze didn't shift from where it was fixed onto your hands, she continued, "I cannot be your only friend."

You sighed softly, eyes brimming with tears that you were afraid would spill if you met her gaze, "I do not... want to see him," you knew she knew who you meant from the way you spat out the word as if it was poison on your tongue, "it hurts too much."

You finally bit the bullet and looked up at her, only to find her gaze looking off into the distance, following the human boy you were referring to. Her features twisted into anger as if in the process of a hiss, "He shouldn't be here. He should be with his kind."

"I agree," you started, but didn't know what else to say. There was nothing you could do.

Neytiri hesitated for a second but eventually uttered the words you had a feeling swirled through her mind every day, "I... cannot help but blame him. He is not just a child. He is a demon's child. He will bring nothing but trouble... But I cannot bring it up with anyone but you."

You could tell from how she spoke that she had had this conversation before. You wondered if this was a frequent argument she had with Jake, who was so adamant about accepting Spider into their family.

"I don't understand how they can so easily accept him. I know he is not responsible for his father's actions, but…." you trailed off at a loss for words. But what? You weren't sure where you were going with this. And with Spider so close by, you were hesitant to confess the hatred you held for him simply due to his heritage out loud.

Neytiri understood though. She always did.

She dropped the arrow she was crafting from her hand and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side to comfort you, "You are not alone. I see you."

You leaned into her motherly touch, revelling in the comfort she provided, "I see you."

-

But comfort never seemed to last for your kind. The sky people returned, led by the man that didn't seem to die. Your people fought his soldiers bravely, some winning, some losing, but you could safely say you had done more damage to them than they had to you.

"How many times do we have to kill you!" You heard Jake hiss from somewhere, but you were too preoccupied with fighting off the armed soldier in front of you. With a final swift move, you drove your dagger into the avatar soldier's neck, your fangs bared in a hiss as blood sprayed across your face. Briskly, you sheathed your blade into its scabbard and let the body drop, turning back to the dying battle. The sky people were retreating. They were cowards and had finally realised they were severely underprepared. They would be back, they always were, but you revelled in the fact that you didn't die at their hand today.

One of them remained, however. To everyone's shock, Quaritch in the flesh had shown up. He stood proudly with a gun pointed at Jake - Jake pointing one back - knowing that the mere fact that he was alive was rubbing salt in the wound. His return brought back memories of your previous battle with him, and you snarled; eyes focused on the conniving man that stood before you. A thick metal cable fell from the sky behind him, undoubtedly how he would make his escape into the helicopter above. You wouldn't allow it.

As you advanced, you heard Jake hiss again, "How are you alive?"

Quaritch only smirked, attaching himself to the cable, "The answer is simple, Jake. I am, and always will be, better than you," His gaze left Jake and switched to someone far behind you all, and he winked. "Thanks for the save, kid."

…What?

Your blood froze and your muscles tensed, barely registering the sound of the Colonel escaping. It felt like the world had stilled; everyone around you was frozen and unable to breathe as they processed the words that had been spoken mere seconds ago.

You could barely process the faces that surrounded you as you slowly turned, following the direction of where the Colonel had been looking. You should have known.

The world around you disappeared, voices echoing as you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat. All you knew was the pure anger rushing through your veins and the pathetic human boy standing a few meters away in your line of sight. His eyes met yours. You had never seen such pure, primal terror in anyone's eyes before.

"What did he mean?" You seethed, voice muted as your features twisted in anger. You began taking steps towards Spider, which seemed to trigger Kiri into holding you back.

"(Y/N), wait," She grabbed your arm to try to hold you back, muttering something about how you should relax and how it could have been a misunderstanding, but you snatched your arm back. You knew what you heard.

"Speak!" You screamed, making Spider flinch. He remained quiet, seemingly unable to defend himself, "You saved that man?"

"I.." Spider began taking a step back but came to a sudden halt as he heard the subtle sound of the pull of a bow. Your gaze flickered behind him for just a second, and you saw Neytiri with an arrow pointed straight at his head, a snarl as equally vicious as yours on her face.

"Neytiri, no!" "Mother, please don't hurt him!"

You and Neytiri barely registered the voices.

You took another step forward, your figure towering over Spider.

"That man is responsible for Neteyam's death," Your voice shook and your tail flicked behind you with anger as you spoke - everyone seemed to fall quiet, "And you saved him?"

Spider had the intelligence to keep quiet, at least. Unfortunately, what he didn't have was the courage to look you in the eye.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" You screamed, startling Spider. His head tilted up, and his fearful eyes met yours. His face was scrunched with pain and guilt, but it meant nothing to you. "He went back for you! He wanted to save you! He died because of you!"

You unsheathed your dagger, the dry blood on its sharp blade a symbol of the fate the boy in front of you would face.

"And you will die because of me."

-

a/n: If we don’t get a scene of Neytiri killing Spider’s ass in Avatar 3 I will sue

p.s I made an ask box request things pls and ty

[commsroom]

cutter was born in the 20s, and he'd become "arthur keller" by the early 70s, so obviously pryce's story at the beginning of brave new world can't be taken literally - that's not even an old man, much less "older than anyone she had ever met." it's also inarguable she was an adult already working on her... ideas for the human body when cutter sought her out; "i want you to make a doll for me" and "i found people who had some very bold ideas about how to... tune up the human body [...] i funded their work, and provided them with a willing test subject" are pretty definitely referring to the same events. so, it's fairy tale language, but the question is: why? why frame it this way?

one part of it is the "fountain of youth" in connection to immortality, strength, and health. the implication isn't literally that cutter is very old and pryce is very young; it's that she represents this power, and that he wants her to bestow it upon him: "then you and i will fix the world. i will be young and you will be whole." cutter and pryce choose to look eternally 28, while referring to and conducting themselves as if they're very old: it's not just vanity, it's part of their self-mythology. simultaneously young and old, having overcome the natural order.

that mythology of "overcoming" natural limitations is especially significant for pryce: characterizing herself as a "little girl" within her own story is both self-victimizing and self-aggrandizing. pryce does not see herself as disabled so much as temporarily inconvenienced; even the usual limitations of the human body are something she hopes to transcend. "instead of being wretched or afraid, the little girl decided to be clever." she was put at a disadvantage, but overcame it all by herself because she was smarter and better than other people. by extension, anyone who can't do what she did just isn't good enough, even as she's closing doors behind her and making it harder for others like her. and at the same time: it's an underdog story that requires her to have been an underdog. she hasn't been in a very, very long time, but the power she holds over others remains justified in her self-perception by this image of a sick little girl who was hurt by the world. there's an implication of inherent worthiness, and even a sort of expected assumed innocence in characterizing it that way. the first thing people notice about pryce is her eyes, and... sure, maybe it's the technology, but if cutter can catch bullets without any visible signs, it seems likely to me that, like her age, this is at least in part an aesthetic choice. it intimidates people. she's turned this point of hurt and vulnerability into a power play, and remains attached to it.

and that's the other part of the mythologizing that's going on: presumably, pryce was not the only person who worked on all of this. cutter funded others. but the story retroactively simplifies it, in a childish fairy tale way, and paints an image of them as exceptional, uniquely capable and so uniquely deserving, people.

i think there's something interesting to consider here about pryce in contrast to hera: that pryce is a woman who self-justifies her cruelty via a mythologized girlhood, while hera is a woman who was never a girl, who was never considered innocent or even allowed the same recognition of the ways she's been a victim. pryce resents humanity and all it represents, resents her body and its limitations, feels that being human has only caused her suffering, but still clearly believes that she has more of a claim to humanity than hera does by nature of her biology and upbringing. pryce's "bootstraps" attitude re: disability and her own self-victimization are the crucial things here, but i think that is also particularly interesting if you read hera as a trans woman.

(incidentally, this is part of why i have a particular love for hera designs where she's just a regular woman, more angular, and maybe even older looking - a natural 30-something in contrast to an unnaturally maintained 28 - than pryce. they're both women who have chosen how they want to look, and it highlights something.)

[timemachineyeah]

I think it’s interesting that we learn Philip and Caleb became witch hunters to fit in to the existing culture of Gravesfield.

Because the thing about witch hunts is, there’s a lot of zealotry and tattling involved. If they weren’t a pair of traveling radicals, but rather two side characters in an ongoing town furor? That changes things.

Up until now I’ve been a little curious about the dynamic of having Philip be the younger brother. We are more used to stories where the older person has authority over the younger in a way that allows them to be despotic. Basically when you have two siblings in fiction and one is evil, it’s usually the older one. But Caleb seemed pretty chill? People with chill authority figures usually don’t grow up to do genocide? But Philip is really committed to genocide? And jealousy over your older brother getting a girlfriend is a weird thing to genocide over?

But now we learn, that’s not really the story. Or not the whole story.

This is a JoJo Rabbit situation. This is a Hitler Youth situation.

In a town that’s in a fervor to find the hidden secret evil citizens among them, kids are potentially dangerous. The children you love and care for are also the most likely to be unsavvy and get you killed. Sometimes older relatives under those circumstances have to, or at least feel like they have to, let their younger family members be indoctrinated without openly opposing it, even pretending to support it, because, well. Children talk. Often without filter. Maybe it would be okay, but

Is it worth risking one or both of you being hung in the square to test that theory?

So they get to this town. This town will hang or burn you if you aren’t pious enough. And this town defines piety by its hatred of The Devil. We are all trying to prove we hate the devil the most. And Caleb, older brother, is like, okay then. That’s what’ll keep us fed. That’s what’ll keep us safe. He’s not a zealot so much as he’s just trying to keep him and his kid brother alive and win the town’s favor. Maybe the zealotry even freaks him out a bit, but not enough. Not until he meets Evelyn.

But Philip? Philip believes. Of course he does. His brother has never made any indication to him that there’s room for doubt. No one has ever done that. At least no one whose execution he didn’t later watch with his entire community cheering it on. Because they were dangerous. Everyone knows how this neighbor got sick, how witches caused that terrible accident, how Satan tries to keep us from our eternal salvation. This is literal. This is real. This is eternal souls and cosmic reality. He’s a kid, at first. He gets indoctrinated young. He believes this.

And then they find the actual realm of demons. Actual hell. The source of all evil in the universe. Fucking obviously it is his divine calling to destroy it once and for all. Wouldn’t you? If you could end all suffering? Save everyone for eternity? Surely that is noble. Righteous. Sacred.

And how is he supposed to believe anything else? What is easier to believe: the whole world is a lie and he has been watching innocent people killed for entertainment since he was a child - which goes against everything he was ever taught and also feels fucking bad. Or: the witches used their evil magic to convince my brother they aren’t evil, which proves how evil they are. That lines up perfectly with everything I know, everything everyone around me has always said, and makes it okay that I participated in those public executions, and also gives me some good righteous anger to fuel me on a genocidal rampage for as long as I continue to exist.

In Philip’s head, he’s the center of his dramatic fantasy epic. He’s the lone hero up against the big bad. He’s going to take on the Devil himself.

Idk, I just think it’s cool that The Owl House was like, “hey, Satanic panics, fascism, and genocide are allied ideologies, perhaps even the same ideology, and it’s Bad”

Also, “societal pressure to conform enables and even encourages people to hurt those they love”. Camila tried to send Luz to camp because she didn’t want Luz to be bullied the way she had been, because Luz’s principal told her she had to. It was a gesture born out of a desire to protect her, but one that would ultimately hurt. Caleb let Philip grow up more pious than he was because it seemed safest, to protect him. Philip grew up believing in eternal damnation and righteous cruelty, something that has clearly ultimately hurt him I mean look at what he is now. Philip, meanwhile, hurt Caleb and continues to hurt his family because he thinks there’s a Right and Wrong way to exist. To be. The ultimate call for conformity. For hegemony. But he didn’t spontaneously generate this belief. It was reinforced from a young age from a society that wanted to make sure no one was deviating too much. To centralize and maintain power through manipulation, exploitation, and force.

Anyway I cannot fucking wait for Camila and Eda to meet oh my fucking god

[dragon-communion]

Concept:

All of Marika's children are born cursed in some way. Messmer's snake business. Melina's rune from birth was probably Destined Death and its blackflame. The omen twins and their blood. Miquella's eternal youth/oblivion and weird blood. Malenia's rot.

I don't think Radagon's kids were cursed as badly, and I actually blame most of their issues on him being the world's worst transmasc father. (/j)

So where does that leave Godwyn? Obviously his fate was to be the first to die and gestate deathblight, but that's all to blame on Marika messing with the Elden Ring as opposed to anything innate about his birth. And the kids we can 100% confirm as belonging to Godfrey show signs of the Crucible, which he's intimately and thematically associated with.

I really love the idea that Godwyn was always a merman, but if I look at him critically using what I know about the base game, I don't think it entirely makes sense? Crucible influence seems to make everything revert to a dragon. Reptilian tails, feathered wings, horns, breath attacks. Devolved dragons, sure, but it's really obvious to me when looking at some of the more elaborate Misbegotten as an example. Mohg and Morgott are also two halves of a whole- Mohg got the wings, Morgott got the tail.

You could argue the scaly tail is draconic, but I don't know. We tragically don't really get any sea monsters in Elden Ring, and even the giant serpent lives in a volcano. We've got some land octopus things, some crabs. The Tibia Mariners sort of count.

I think Godwyn was at least marketed to the public as the most perfect man alive, so it'd make sense if he was just an unblemished Adonis and his curse was simply a matter of time, but that feels weird considering the rest of Marika's direct children explicitly have strange powers or deformities or both.

If we assume Castle Sol was his (part of me wants to think it belonged to Miquella but who can say), it's hard to tell if the eclipse iconography came before or after Godwyn's death. If it existed before, there's a good chance the Eclipse Shotel was actually his weapon. If the eclipse iconography came after his death, as part of their continued attempts to resurrect their lord, then Godwyn himself was not associated with the fucked up necromancy sun during his lifetime.

It's also worth noting that Castle Sol is only accessible by passing through the Forbidden Lands, the entire village of Zamor, an archer golem, and a gauntlet of Fire Monks, so anyone who lived there would've been shoved in the back of Marika's proverbial closet. The Mountaintops were probably locked down the second Marika wiped out the giants, if not during or before to bottleneck resources, so nobody would be visiting casually for a light chat and tea.

(As a side note, I really have to wonder how they feed anyone up there. Where's the farms? The livestock and game? Did the village of Zamor serve Castle Sol in any way? Does the massive graveyard up there belong to the astrologers, or the dead from the war against the giants? Both? Did Marika have an alliance with the ice dragons too? What's Borealis's position in the incredibly tense sociopolitical landscape of the Mountaintops???)

All of that taken together, it's not unreasonable to think that Castle Sol could be where Marika hid her strange merman son, but it's hard to draw any definitive conclusions. The duke of that castle would be in a position to oversee the continued imprisonment of the last Fire Giant as well as the Fire Monks and their prisoners, but given the castle's position so far from the fort I'm inclined to think the castle has more to do with the huge graveyard next to it.

I need to examine the architecture for clues as to when it was built and by whom, I think, because part of me wants to say it belonged to the astrologers, and that would make some sense. On first impression though I was reminded a lot of what it felt like to enter Radahn's fort for some reason. I'll come back to this.

[henriediosa]

palatawan: the old money families

one of the things that i think makes palatawan really work as a tagalog translation of the world of hatchetfield is the class divide. if i could drive you through manila right now, you'd get it — the high-rises next to the slums, the sheets of metal covering the shanties next to the highway. there's something very filipino about an island with resorts and mansions on one side and a trailer park on the other.

i think the old money of palatawan are the panginoong maylupa, the landlords who bought up the land and built the mansions. so let's start with the people who made hatchetfield their own little satanic paradise:

the waylon family

Agatha and Mathias Flavio - so waylon is from the old english name weland, which probably means "cunning". it's the name of a legendary smith. someone who makes metal implements is a very cool namesake for the family who built hatchetfield. so i went for the name of our own legendary smith, ang panday (which is just The Smith in tagalog). he's a comics character. but it felt too on the nose to just use panday (after all, they're not the smiths, that would be too plain) so i went for his first name.

the perkins/houston family

Ma. Emmanuella de los Reyes Perez - it's emma! yeah, i think she comes from old money — her parents had land that she turned into perky's buds, and she had the freedom and resources to go backpacking as a young woman. we don't see it much from her because emma's trying to distance herself from her family, and i bet the backpacking has sort of roughed her up a good bit. perkins and perez both derive from the name peter.

Ma. Janella Perez Corazon - áte (big sister) janella. i changed her name because jane in a filipino accent sounds too much like jenny, and they could be confused with each other. going into psychology is a really interesting choice for her, because we don't actually have psychiatric workers for our population right now. so i think it speaks to how perfect and pure of heart she seems.

Tomas Corazon - the hugh in "hugh's town" (houston) means heart, and so does corazon. i think it works for a guy with such big feelings, who cares so much about his family.

Timothy Corazon / Tim - this is a personal thing that you may have noticed if you look at how i name my own characters, but i like it when characters have full names that they can derive nicknames from. he can't just be tim on his birth certificate, that's not a whole name. give your babies (characters) whole names.

the murray/monroe family

Rosalinda Iñiga Camella Villar Rivera - you bet i gave linda a long fancy name. camella villar is a reference to an actual filipino land-owning political family, and iñiga is a reference to one of my exes. hey, i can be petty too.

Gerald Rivera - so fancy and yet so generic. he stays in the background and that's exactly where he should be

Rio, Abra, Pasig, and Chico Rivera - all of linda’s children are named after rivers. is it because the monroe also means (the mouth of a) river? i’m not sure why, but i am keeping the pattern.

Roman Milagroso Villar - he just felt like he needed a second name. why not miraculous? it fits his ego. murray comes from an old irish name that means "master", so i picked a surname derived from the latin word for a village. they own the village (the hatchetfield boating society and the honey queen pageant board)

the young family

Sherman and Sheila Cabataan - this one's easy because the name is obviously a nod to their eternal youth. so it's kabataan, "youth" but spelled with a c to make it look vintage. (when the philippines was colonised by spain, the /k/ sound was spelled with a c like it is in spanish.)

so i've already done CCRP and the nerdy prudes (+ max); which section of hatchetfield population would y'all like to see translated next?

[mstrchu]

is nezha eternally 12?

yeah he is he told me himself in a t&t parking lot

12 is an arbitrary number. if you're looking for a source that literally says the exact phrase "nezha is eternally 12" you're uhh probably not going to find one. you're also probably not going to find a source that outright states that he grew into an adult. i think the reason 12 has become a popular number is because it sort of straddles that point between true childhood and adolescence, but again, it's arbitrary.

in fsyy, nezha is 7 when the whole thing with ao bing and returning his flesh and bones to his parents happens, which as far as I'm aware is the last time that an exact age is given for him in that particular novel. fsyy is also not the end all be all of "canon", but it did have significant implications for both practiced religion and literature (1, ch.5). sangren also notes that 7 being the age given is important.

i've only read about half of jttw so far, but don't think any physical or chronological age is stated for him, except that sun wukong calls him "小哥" (little guy/young man/etc.) when they first meet lol.

(a couple of nezhas from this copy of fsyy)

but the exact number of 12 isn't the point behind the statement. imo the idea behind the sentiment is that nezha is culturally perceived as a child. he is metaphorically and literally associated with and representative of the traits and struggles of childhood. he is "the most popular and classic cultural image of child personification in the literature of China" (2). the portrayal of the child - what traits they embody, which authorities they subvert, how their agency develops and affects the world around them - will change with the sociopolitical environment of the country, and portrayals of nezha have always changed along with it, for the reason that his image is inextricable from that of a child's (3, 4). he is a representation, reflection, and symbolization of the youth.

(some media puts more emphasis than this on others, i.e. the songs used for the '03 cartoon opening and closing, which really emphasize him being little, being young (少年), and being the same age the presumably child singer (他的年纪跟我一般大) lol)

(this paper looks at the appearance of nezha in various medias for the past ~100 years, including adult portrayals, although it does make the assumption that adult actor = adult character and girl actor = girl character which is.. not really correct imo… also it includes 1979 nezha naohai as part of its 'adult image' era which is ????? so i would take its conclusions with a grain of salt and just look at its descriptions.)

you're also going to get a different answer if you look at it from a more religious viewpoint. as far as i know, he has religious iconography as both a child and as an adult, but his appearance is much more varied and doesn't necessarily have the same collective set of easily recognizable traits. here are some posts with artwork and statues of nezha (interspersed with some of hong hai'er): x y z.

however, the thing is that i don't think many modern adaptations can make the claim that they drew from a religious iconography basis more than they drew from the most popular cultural image of nezha. i then wish they would be more cognizant of the fact that, in the source from which they drew, nezha is most widely recognized as a kid, and treat that with respect.

obviously nezha is not always portrayed as a child. nezha is not always anything, there are just recurring visual and thematic elements that make him a cohesive and recognizable figure, i.e. the twin buns, the iconic weapons, the lotus imagery. being a child or a youth is also one of these things, and its significance, imo, is well analysed and documented.

at the end of the day this answer is only so long-winded because it's the internet. go text your parents and ask them how old they think nezha is.

[baldurs-gape]

Can I just say your story “Wish’n’bone” is literally such a comfort read to me, I go back and read it over again frequently! Your characterization of them both is so sweet in all your work but in that one it’s my favorite. I’d love there to be a follow up of sorts some day but gosh all your BW stuff is fabulous! :3

Nonnie, your kind words fill me with such warmth. Wish'n'Bone was my first foray into a longer Bloodweave fic and I was terrified about getting the characterisations wrong. To be honest, I still worry but that's beside the point XD What kind of follow-up of sorts did you have in mind? I can't promise it will happen but I'm always over the moon to hear ideas anyone has.

Meanwhile, I've finished writing Shores so my mind has now been wandering to other things. Please accept this NSFW ficlet because apparently that's where the brain gremlins are sailing today.

No Big Deal

The Weave was magical, Gale thought. Well, it obviously was magic but he meant it in the less literal way. He had been able to use it to make up for so many of his shortcomings. When he was with Mystra, his body wasn't a concern, wasn't even something to think about. All the pleasures they explored together were beyond the physical. In a way it was a relief, a blessing. Gale knew that by human standards he wasn't exactly a catch. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't putting himself down, far from it, he had a lot to offer in terms of knowledge, power, even looks if he was being less than humble. But when things came to a more intimate connection, he wasn't well versed, no was he exceptional. Quite the opposite in fact. It hadn't mattered though, Mystra had rather literally swept him off his feet and those aspects of him weren't of any import what so ever.

Until his fall. While not objectively true, it still felt like everything had been stripped away until the only thing left was Gale himself with all his human shortcomings. Things only got worse with the whole mindflayer tadpole issue. He had so badly wanted to run to Tara and make the joke "I got worms" just to hear her express amused disdain. Instead he had a group of strangers, all of them infected and pulling in different directions. One person caught Gale's attention though, Astarion didn't seem eager to be going anywhere, wasn't all that bothered by the unexpected lodger in his brain. The only other one who seemed as relaxed was Wyll but he still had the optimism of youth and Gale knew he could so easily crush that. It was why Gale hovered near Astarion, set his tent up nearby. Even when the whole vampire spawn truth came tumbling out, he was more reassured than put off. Immortal beings were much easier to understand than humans in his experience.

Of course, not everything could be simple. As soon as emotions Gale thought were long dead in his chest started to turn from ashes to ember, he knew trouble was brewing. Even worse, Astarion was way ahead of him in that department. By the time Gale was approached by Astarion late one night, he should have known what was coming. It still took him by surprise and Gale had to think fast.

"Let me make you feel good," he breathed into the gap between their lips. "Teach me what you like."

"You get off on learning, don't you?"

It was better that way, Astarion wouldn't have to know the disappointing truth about Gale. And Gale was good at giving, he had given Mystra his all. Though he'd rather not think about how even that hadn't been enough. Instead, Gale turned his attention to Astarion, how he felt in his mouth. Every a quick study, Gale was determined to learn how to best please Astarion. He shouldn't have found it easy but there he was, on his knees and pulling the loveliest sounds from Astarion. What's more, he adored how physical it all was, the hands in his hair, sharp nails against his scalp, the mess, the loss of control, the sheer rawness of it all. In the Weave everything was but a thought away, pleasure was vast and eternal until it became a state of constant. This though, visceral and passing as it was, it burned through Gale. By the time he was catching his breath, beard sticky from what he couldn't swallow, he knew he was in love. The euphoria faded and with it came the crippling reality of his own shortcomings.

At first it was all too easy to distract, Gale took every opportunity to make Astarion feel good with zero expectation of reciprocation. If only he was as gallant as he'd made out, wanting to spoil Astarion in a small effort to prove he wasn't like all the others before him. To a small degree it was true. But mostly, Gale was desperately hiding reality. It was why he tried to entice Astarion into the Weave, to share the pleasure without having to reveal his secret. Sadly, it didn't work that way. Only so many times could he claim to have gotten himself off before Astarion grew more insistent. As much as Astarion claimed to love being the focus of attention, there was no missing that the imbalance between them was slowly getting to him.

"Let me see you."

They were in Gale's tent and Astarion was pushing. The problem was, Gale was out of excuses. Maybe half the truth would suffice.

"I'm not- It's-" All the words in the world and none of them came even close to the tip of his tongue.

Smiling coyly, Astarion stepped closer. "For a man who was a goddess' lover, you do seem incredibly shy."

"In the Weave it was all different."

It was the wrong thing to say because Astarion's brows scrunched and Gale found himself on the receiving end of a scrutinising look.

"Darling, are you saying you've never partaken in the earthly side of such pleasure?"

Head shaking, Gale couldn't look him in the eyes. Hands went to his trousers all the same and Gale startled. "It's not just that. It's, well, in the Weave I could be however I wanted."

"Is my darling wizard body-shy?" Astarion grinned. "My dear, let me assure you that you're perfect as you are."

Gale's trousers and underwear were pushed down and Astarion's eyes focused on his goal.

"Oh."

Silence stretched and Gale covered himself up, cheeks flaming. He should have known. Shouldn't have even hoped. Once again, hands reached for him, tugging his hands away.

"Darling, you're gorgeous." Two fingers easily lifted Gale's cock and Astarion's thumb fondly stroked over it. "I don't know why you were wanting to hide."

"It's small." Even when aroused, it was maybe three inches at best and Gale was all too aware of how much of a disappointment that could be, not to mention that he was a grower and not a shower which made his mortifyingly below average in that moment.

"It's perfect." Astarion had never said anything more honest in his life. Truly enamoured with Gale, he smiled and leaned in. "Let me show you how perfect."

No further warning, he dropped to his knees and took Gale's soft cock gently between his lips. He hadn't been lying, it was perfect. A mouthful that gave him scope to lavish it with his tongue, even his fangs weren't such an issue. Hands found their way into his curls, unsteady and uncertain. Usually, Astarion hated it when someone did that but with Gale it felt right. Bobbing lightly, he listened to the soft gasps and smiled around the perfect cock between his lips.

As he sucked, Astarion couldn't help but let his mind drift. Gale was gentle, even if he didn't need to be. There was no risk of him pushing down into his throat, no threat of any kind of discomfort. Astarion was man enough to admit that he was falling in love with Gale's body all over again. He flattened his tongue against the underside of Gale's cock, gave him something to rut against and swallowed eagerly as it spilled unexpectedly quickly. Pulling back with a pleased hum and a show of licking his lips, Astarion grinned.

However, Gale beat him to speaking. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for...?"

"Not laughing at me. Getting me off. Being my first."

Heart softening, Astarion pressed one last kiss to the red tip of Gale's cock before standing up once more.

"If you'll let me, I'll prove to you how I love you exactly as you are. All I need is as much time as you'll give me."

"Forever?"

"Forever sounds good," Astarion purred.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Day 4 (September 26) - Hurt-Comfort/Sick Day

“I’m sorry, but I can’t… We can’t…”

The words have stuck with Ace all week since the events of his rescue of eternal marriage with a phantom bride, the look of Riddle’s somber sad expression on his cute face still fresh in his mind.

He felt sick to his stomach for that expression of a near weep after such a lovely kiss upon those lips he dreamt of kissing since he discovered his heart belonged to the most unlikely fellow…

School was sluggish to say the least for the whole week; Ace was mostly silent and not as jokester like usual, his grades were his average but not as normally passionate as he did on certain topics, his behavior in Heartslabyul was more so gloom.

It’s a mess to watch and everyone is worried sick seeing the Ace card being so sulky and depressed looking, like a ripped up playing card after one too many bad betting games.

Not just him, Riddle also has seemed to be acting differently too.

He has been seen spacing out and looking like he’ll cry or scream any final second upon the halls of school and the dorm and looking a bit paler than his usual skin tones, wandering around like some sick skeleton.

“And that’ll be all for today, please have a good afternoon pups.” Said Crewel as he finishes up his potions lesson for the day on certain herbal classes and how to make certain soft poisons and speeding potions, watching all his students get up and leave from their assigned cauldron.

His gray eyes stop as he sees a certain heart card soldier lazily walking out with a deep frown on his face. “Hold it Trappola, be a good boy and stay behind for a few.”

Many boys snicker as they leave Ace alone with the diva in fur. Once they were alone with Deuce being the one to shut the door the teen turned his body at the split haired gentleman, “Yeah?” He said, his tone and body language obviously trying to act his usual self but failing miserably.

The man sighs and folds his arms, talking stern and serious, “You’ve been acting odd all week and now usually I would mind my business with your youthful ways but for now I can’t bring myself to stand by and watch you sink deeper away.”

Ace tsked and turned his head away, Crewel sighs, “You got dumped didn’t you?”

The teen boy growls, “Hell no!” But the teacher was able to hear a weak mumble of ache under his breath, “We weren’t even a thing…”

Crewel sighs and opens his desk drawer, brushing his red gloved hand across the clutter he has in there before he goes back to his lost hurt pup with a card of sorts.

“Here,” He said as he handed the card with not much expression on his face but sympathy in his eyes, “You can find these things at Sam’s shop, tell him I sent you if or when you go.”

The younger one looked at the card gifted to him, it’s white and decently sized like any business card in shape and weight, black inky pen markings and scratches writing out the words of;

Miracle Cold Medicine

Heartache Go Away

Vampire Beware

Witch Hazel

He blinks and looks at his teacher again, who only gives him a knowing glance back before he turns his fur coat back to him to look at some papers.

“That is all. Have a good rest of your day Trappola.”

Ace blinks for a moment before nodding slowly and walking out of the classroom with the card shoved in his pants’ pocket, leaving the man alone in his room with papers to grade and thoughts to sort. 

—

Winter skies swirl and shimmer like glitter across a beautiful backdrop of wallpaper for the Yuletide season. The sky gifts down little flurries of white spots of cold from the seemingly cloudless black abist of a sky as the large white moon illuminates the many patches of the white blanket that coats the ground and roofs of the places around the people who walk and talk.

Walking beside a winter rose and iced wooden arch is a beautiful young man with short red hair like a rose bud just waiting to bloom and flourish dressed in a black turtleneck sweater under a maroon red winter coat, bright blue-gray eyes glance around the winter landscape of couples and snow as visual breaths escape those petal lips.

A ginger man walks into his few, two green cups that steam in warmth in his mitten covered hands, walks over with a smile and flush face of joy. “Hey there beautiful, you busy?” He asked with a grin, freckles glowing under the warm flush blush of his cheeks and nose.

The redhead smiles and goes to the ginger in a rush, giggling like a kid seeing Saint Nick for the first time in their whole life, the snow falling so prettily against the different shades and style of red hair.

Riddle’s eyes shot open, fists clutching tightly on his pillow.

He blinks fast as turns flow out his sockets and down his cheeks and onto his soft pillow as his breathing quickens as he sob softly, increasingly growing slightly louder with each tick of the volume his throat gives him while his body shakes and cries in unison.

Stupid stupid stupid! He thought as he covered his face with the already slightly damp pillow, images of the dream of him and Ace meeting together coming in projector films under his eyelids with each blink, causing his heart to break more.

He slowly grazed his finger tips against his flushed lips, recalling back in slight joy the warm feeling of his Ace giving him a kiss of passion and affection with the setting sun and it’s paint palette. 

Snot burns his nose as he curls up in another cry, feeling sick to his stomach as his nails dug deep into his arms’ flesh. “Shut up shut up, bad bad bad…” He mumbled between cries, he can almost hear the faint screams of his mother in his dorm room at the dead of dawn.

—

This month was a rough one for many to both be a part of and to witness others struggling. 

For starters, Riddle looked paler and paler with every day that went by. He barely ate much other than some small portions and orange juice, he even gave a tart to another student!

He has also seemed to be studying a lot more than usual. At the library most free time outside of school, club, and Heartslabyul duties, always doing more study sessions with the other students inside and outside his dorm, going the extra mile in all his classes and club activities than his normal nature. 

Meanwhile, Ace seemed to be going backwards rather than forwards.

He drank herbal tea when he wasn’t supposed to, he made a mess of the croquet game, he left earlier than 15 minutes after eating lunch knocking a chair astray in the progress, he chugged a whole basin of lemonade while staring at his dorm’s faces at 8 PM on the dot, and finally… He plucked the roses instead of painting them on a Wednesday.

How the Hell Riddle somehow managed to keep his cool and patients with all he has on his plate already is beyond a shock to everyone who were able to witness the madness of Ace doing all this with a smug yet eager looking smile on his face.

Only for Riddle to turn away and let Trey handle all the punishments he needs.

Ace peers around the corner of the dead of night, making sure not a single door mouse was awake to stop his plan from motion. Once he saw the coast was clear he began to make his stealthy way to the dorm kitchen with his eyes guiding his way past the shadows.

His face stretched into a smirk as he snuck deeper into the kitchen, right to the fridge farthest away in the corner that makes soft sounds for the cold spell used to protect the food within. As his freckled hands grabbed hold of the knob, a voice stopped him–

“Now isn’t it against Rule 089 to not dare touch or eat one of the Queen’s tarts without their permission?”

Ace jerked around so hard his back hit the fridge in his stumble to see the silhouette of Trey Clover standing at the kitchen entry with strong arms folded across his thick wide chest and a gentle yet still firm expression on his face. 

Catching his breath, the ginger scrunch his face up in an angry pout like an upset toddler as he breaks in with a hiss, “Yeah, so what? Gonna tell Riddle about me?”

Trey sighed and brought a hand up and rubbed the bridge of his nose right between his tired amber yellow eyes, “Is that what this is all about? Are you breaking the rules to try and get Riddle’s attention?”

Ace looked away, trying to act sly with his (he assumed) well played expressionless face, but he knew the jig was up when he heard Trey sigh again, “Okay spill. Why are you two acting weird?”

“Nothing…”

Then, the eldest drew a wicked smirk.

“You two hooked up.”

Ace’s face turned just as red as a strawberry as his voice cracked and sputtered, spitting some on his lips, “Wh-No no! We didn’- I didn’-” As heat rushed down the back of his neck and his eyes feeling the gaze grow harder, he blurted, “Okay fine! We kissed!”

He sighed out as soon as he said that, pausing when seeing Trey go to him. The baker moved the teen out of the way and opened the fridge, taking a carton of milk out before grabbing two mugs and pouring them full enough to drink but not spill.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

Ace hesitantly took the offer of a stool seat as he took the cup of milk carefully in his hands, now feeling like the toddler he was acting like earlier on time out. He sighed, “It was when you guys tried to save me from the ghost bride chick. I… told Riddle that I…was in love with him…”

Trey blinked, not really expecting those words out of the card soldier’s mouth.

Ace continued, “I… also kissed him… and I thought he felt the same way cause he kissed back… But… I guess I was wrong. He said that we can’t or something and refused to talk to me face to face since then… But I guess that’s my own fault since I made him uncomfortable and opened my heart up for the first time and look at that he doesn’t feel the same way and-”

Tears slowly spill from those red eyes as his athletic drawn shoulders shake and move with soft wheezes coming from his trembling lips. Seeing someone like Ace cry is a sight to behold no one thought they could ever see but now he’s Trey witnessing it and it’s over a broken heart of loving the Red Tyrant of roses himself. 

Trey reached forward and rubbed the ginger head that bobs and cries like a broken faucet in a bathtub, doing his best to comfort the crying freshman in his favorite kitchen. “So you’ve been breaking the rules to try and have Riddle talk to you again?” He asked, knowing he hit the nail good when he saw Ace nod with a hard sniff of mucus.

He reached around the counter and got some napkins for Ace to use as a tissue, rubbing his shoulders as he blew his nose. “The first time we really talked was when I ate that tart and he collared me… So I figured if I repeat it he can at least tell me he doesn’t feel the same way to my face…”

“What makes you so certain he doesn’t feel the same way to you?”

Ace’s face twisted up as he stared at the vice dorm leader, “Didn’t you listen to what I said? I made him gross out over someone like me spilling my guts out like that and now he’s avoiding me clearly.”

Someone like him… Trey thought as he kind of stared at the freshman, remembering back to him announcing his gender identity and sexual orientation during his so called “wedding”.

But��

Trey looks from the corner Riddle struggling with his shirt as Cater fixes his hair.

“Are you sure the binder is hidden? What if someone finds out? Oh Seven what if mother finds out-” The red head rambles before being stopped by Cater’s giggling and smushing the smaller face in front of him with both hands. “Come on now Riddle-San~ You look fine. You’re a very handsome prince~” He cheered, causing the redhead to smile softly at those words.

Trey spoke up, “Does the title of Queen bother you in any way?” Riddle thought for a moment before shaking his head, “No,” He answered softly, “Surprisingly it doesn’t. …Should it?”

“Come on Trey-kun now you’re getting the poor baby confused. Riddle-san, pronouns, clothes, and titles are far different than you think. I mean, Lilia-kun is a boy and likes to dress up like a girl sometimes, yeah? And you know I love makeup and don’t care if people see me as a boy or not, yeah? And Vil-chan is very pretty regardless of what gender he is. If the title of Queen doesn’t both you than that doesn’t make you less of a perfect boy Riddle-san~”

Riddle smiles and giggles, “I guess that’s true.”

Trey smiles fondly at the memory. He always knew Riddle was a boy even long before he knew himself, it was known in town the Rosehearts had a smart and beautiful little girl but when he happened to see him while playing with Chenya one day he was honestly taken aback over the cute boy sitting there reading and writing. Even at a young age he didn’t question it, Riddle was Riddle after all.

It didn’t really sunk in the actual wording until he saw Riddle in town with long black hair and wearing a gown sometime after the horrible incident with his mother, and he told his parents who sat him down and explained the best they could of what may be happening and warned him to not engage in that family’s issues.

And he knew well the new look on Riddle’s face when around Ace after his Overblot.

“Ace, listen, I can tell you just this now but Riddle would not reject you over something like gender and sexuality.” He said, assuring the boy from more tears.

Ace sniffs again and wipes his eyes with the heel of his palms, voice croaked, “Then why else would he hate me…?”

“He doesn’t hate you Ace. He…” Trey thought for a moment, chewing his cheek some in thought before he sighed and continued, “His mother might visit Night Raven.”

Ace blinks and stares at him.

“Huh?”

“Every 4 to 5 months she comes to visit the school to check on Riddle and his grades. It stresses him out more than anything this school can throw at him. Guess that’s one thing they came to not settle an agreement on during Winter Break.”

Trey crossed his arms and sighed, “If I had to guess, Riddle may feel the same for you but the timing is shit.”

The ginger blinks again and looks down. “And if he doesn’t..?” His voice was so soft Trey would have assumed it was a fairy that came into the kitchen for late night snacks.

Trey smiles assuring, “Well I guess there’s only one way to find out then huh? You have to talk to him properly. And not in a way of breaking the rules, that could make him assume you hate him. I’ll try and talk to him to let you two talk, you’ll respect his answer regardless if he rejects or returns your feelings?”

“Yes! Of course! Just being ignored hurts more than being rejected…”

The green haired man pats his freshman’s head again with a smile. “Good. Now hit the hay, by tomorrow morning I want you to fix the roses you plucked and pour the afternoon tea for everyone in return for the tea and lemonade you drank.”

Ace kind of chuckles at the end but nods and hurries off out the kitchen to his room

—

Riddle coughed into his hand, an ice bag resting on his forehead and his mess of deep red hair. Besides him standing by the nurse office bed is Jade who carried him there after an incident in their class together.

How can I have fainted in front of everyone?! His mind scolds him as he wheezes a small cough.

The nurse feels his forehead again, and makes a curious hum before turning to Jade and Trey, who rushed over fast when he got word, “He seems to have caught a cold of sorts. It’ll go away with some rest and some cold medicine.”

Riddle tries to sit up, “I’m fin-” His voice stops with a harsh cough. Trey’s strong yet gentle hands helped him lay back down. “No you’re not Riddle. You should stay here for the rest of the day and rest. Just until your fever is down enough.” He warned, it was a gentle warning but still a warning.

The eel, vice dorm leader, and nurse soon left the room, leaving Riddle alone with his fever and thoughts.

“Ugh…I hate this… I don’t have time for this…” He mumbled to himself as he lay back deeper into his pillows, his eyes growing heavy from a soft lack of sleep from the last few days due to the worry of his mother coming by.

As his eyes closed, he was met with a random memory played to him rather easily.

It was the 23rd afternoon of September and they were all in the Heartslabyul lounge enjoying the fun and air as cheery baked pie fills the noses of all.

“You know, pie is better than tarts.” Ace said with a chuckle, chuckling more at Riddle’s obvious objective face. “Please. Cherries are tart and only taste sweet with some help.” He retorted back, sipping his tea cup with a hmph.

Ace laughs slightly, “But strawberries are just too sweet and can be sour, it only works if you make it with something else.”

“That’s not true at all–”

Ace’s laughter as he grabs a slide stops the dorm head to argue back with the birthday boy, “In a weird way I guess you’re like cherries and I’m like strawberries. How funny is that Housewarden?”

Riddle watched as Ace took a juicy bite of his pie slide, bringing a thumb up to whip some crumbs off his bottom lips as he licked his lips along with the cleaning.

Tears filled Riddle’s eyes as his opened those sad eyes, the image of Ace’s smug face still paining his heart against his rib cage.

He doesn’t quite know when these feelings for the opposite started but in a strange way he realized that day Ace was right for the first time. Well second if you count his Overblot where Ace argued his behavior wasn’t closure.

In a way he is like cherries, very tart and unsavory and only is sweet when people help him be sweet. While Ace arguably is like strawberries, he’s sweet yes but also sour and works so well with others regardless of how messy the mixing becomes.

Ace’s confession comes to his mind as tears blink out their hiding spots in his eyes as his heart beats in a sore rhythm. 

“I should talk to him…”

And talk to him he decided, grabbing himself together he got up and made his way right to his dorm. It was a very weird sight for some random students to see their dorm leader wandering the halls of the dorm red in the face and in a messy lab coat but hey he was weird all week so it’s not new.

If I’m lucky he should be done with club activities Thought Riddle as he walked to the wall of doors that face the shared bedrooms.

He takes a look around the hall and opens the door, meeting the sight he only saw once in his freshman year lifestyle before becoming Housewarden of four different beds on four different corners fitting four different aesthetics and personalities across the board of the room.

Riddle quietly walked into the empty bedroom and made his way to the obvious side of the room for Ace after spotting the little basketball laundry hoop just there.

“I guess he’s not here…” He mumbled and began to leave. He stops when his tired eyes catch something on the card’s desk.

Besides the normal clutter of Ace’s study methods and magic card tricks he sees a white card sitting there in the open.

Curiouser and curiouser as they say, Riddle made his way closer and his heart sank upon seeing it seems to be an item list of sorts. What became more clear than the rest though was one: Heartache Go Away

He recalls the rumors of a special potion that makes all forms of heartache and love go away with just one drink of a vial, but no one actually got it unless they had a good deal.

Does that mean…

Suddenly all of Ace’s actions this last week since they saved him and he confessed flooded back, Riddle’s heart sinking deeper and deeper into the deep end…

It makes sense now… He thought, Ace hates me now…

Riddle can’t recall how he got to his dorm room, but he knew he was numb and tired, head full of ocean water and he’s swimming in harsh stormy waves.

He breathes in and out, trying to sooth out the storm of emotions in his tender chest and sore ribs.

“It’s fine…” He whispered, holding but the wheezing cry that’s threatening in bubbles up his throat, “I-I rejected him first so why the Hell does it matter if he spelled away his feelings…?”

He started making his way to his desk on shaky knees. “I-I should get back to studying, Mother will be angry if I mess up even a little bit…” He grabs a book and gasps when he accidentally rips the page of the book due to his harsh opening.

This was a book his mother gave him for his birthday before he joined Night Raven College. 

A book is what she always ever given him. And he gives himself in return…

With trembling hands he gripped the science page he was forced to read so much until he saw the charts and tables in his dreams, the pain of his mother’s harsh scrubbing off his hair came crawling up his scalp as he stared at that damn page.

With a harsh yank back he ripped that page clean out as his breathing quickened.

The sound of her screaming voice scolding him for just looking at trousers in a store window rings in his ears as he rips another page out.

He bent the leader back and watched it break in half like a carrot as her constant need to keep him on a strict diet.

A familiar rage filled his body as he moved to the next book from his mother and repeated the same motions over and over until his floor was nothing but scattered papers and abandoned leader back of book covers. After that was done he grabbed the books he couldn’t dare break apart and began to throw them out of his sight.

His hands grab hold of his bed sheets and ripped them up in a fluey as he feels tears burn his cheeks like poison.

Once that was done, he stood still at the chaos he created, hands shaking and rage and pain in his heart. He fell to his knees, the pains he felt seeing Ace’s holding hands with someone else coming to his mind. Guess he has free chances to fall in love with someone else now… He thought, the idea of Ace drinking that rumored potion and hating him already hurting him but the image of him arm in arm with someone else makes him feel sick.

Breathing in, his poor lungs gave out as he cried out in a loud wail. His cries sounded as if someone ripped his heart out and honestly he feels like someone did. And that someone is a woman he came from in birth.

Why does she have to trample and ruin his happiness when he does so much to make her happy?!

No, he knew he can’t blame himself fully for blowing that chance of happiness away. The pain was unbearable as he curled to the floor crying as images of that damn smug smirk and teasing glimmer in those red eyes flash under his eyelids as if taunting him of his what if dream scenario of actually having a happily ever after with this trouble making wild card full of laughter and messes…

His door swung open in a clash.

Riddle freezes as he slowly looks up and sees Ace standing there dressed in his gym clothes panting and red in the face, his red eyes widened and worried. “What happened?! I heard a scream!” He shouted, hurrying inside without hesitation.

The dorm leader’s heart ached upon watching and hearing Ace worry for him.

“Ace-”

He stopped as a new feeling came up his throat and filled his cheeks.

—

When Riddle woke up he was in his messily made bed and it was already night time. He looked around the room a bit as his eyes adjusted in the dark, noticing a bunch of papers and thick leather covers in his trash bin and a decent dark stain on his rug.

Memories of what happened earlier came crashing into his tired fuzzy noggin and Riddle sighed out, shame pooling his gut over such a childish reaction over his stress and-

The card came to his mind.

He placed his hands on his chest as he felt sadness engulf his heart, tired eyes closing. “Ace…” He mumbled, the same already sounding so hard to say without crying like before.

Then, the bedroom door opened.

Riddle looks up and sees Ace standing there and walking to the bed, closing the door with his foot behind him, holding a tray of tea it seems.

“Good, you're awake. I was just coming back from Basketball club and heard you screaming so I ran and saw you were on the ground and your room was a mess. Then you threw up. Don’t worry though, Deuce and I had that cleaned up real fast while Trey-Senpai and Cater-Senpai got you dressed and in bed.” He explained as he rested the tea tray on the bedside table, Riddle watching him move.

He’s so kind… But…why…? He questioned to himself, already feeling a sob coming on.

Ace turns and looks at the upset face of his dorm leader and stammers, “H-Housewarden-” but his words are stopped with Riddle’s sudden sob out, “Please don’t hate me!”

“E-Eh?”

Riddle sniffled hard as he cried, unable to stop the storm that brewed and settled, “I-I know what I said…But I can’t imagine you hating me… Whenever I do my stomach goes into knots and my eyes flood in tears…! I can’t stand seeing you hate me…!”

Ace brought his hands out and took Riddle’s cold hands in a soft grab as he cautiously asked, “What are you talking about? I would never hate you!”

Riddle sniffed in return, “B-But—” He huffs, “I rejected your confession and I know what you bought at Sam’s Shop–”

“Hm? This?”

The ginger reached into his pocket and took out a blue vile. Riddle’s heart sank as he shook his head as if trying to say “please don’t do it” while his words were stuck in his throat.

“This is cold medicine.”

The words stopped Riddle.

“Wh-What…?”

“Trey-Senpai told me you were sick as soon as we were cleaning up the mess you made. So I went to Sam’s Shop and got this Miracle Cold Medicine that I hear works wonders, Professor Crewel gave me a slip to use to ask for it.”

Riddle’s tight chest felt loose finally, like he was finally able to breath as he stared at the vile and then at Ace. “Did you assume I would stop loving you, Riddle?” Asked Ace, his hand held softly squeezing as his thumb rubbed his knuckles sweetly.

The housewarden only nods with trembling lips and spoke, “I-I saw the paper and assumed you’ve-”

“Riddle,” Ace puts down the vile and cupped the sick flushed face of his dorm leader, his thumb whipping away the tear streaks that cover his cheeks, his voice a gentle stern that even Riddle can hear is filled with genuine care, “Nothing in this world would ever make my feelings die. I mean, if I didn’t leave you during your huge emotional period when you blotted and almost killed us then I’m sure as Hell not leaving now.”

The redhead blinks, heart fluttering when hearing such promise from those lips he honest to the Great Seven desire to kiss again.

Ace sighed, “I’m sorry if I came across like I hated you. I just… I assumed you hated me after…well…after what happened…” It was clear with his wording what he was implying, making Riddle realize he, too, is badly in the wrong.

“I-I’m sorry too… I just…” He sighed, rubbing his hands in thought as he hand picked his words in his mind, “I’m…not used to any of this… And I feared the worst… I feared for the disaster that was to come… The fights… The crying… The heartbreak… Then again, I guess that still happened even if we were dating…”

Ace uncupped the smaller’s face and sighs, rubbing his neck.

“Why are we both so bad at this? I even did that stuff to try and make you talk to me…”

“Huh? You did all that rule breaking just for me to talk to you?”

“Yes! Geez, I was fine if you didn’t feel the same way I just rather you told me than pretending that I wasn’t there—”

“No no no! I do feel the same way!”

The two stared at each other, blinking and flushed. Then, a giggle slowly came out their lips as they overheard their words again.

Ace looked at Riddle, eyes soft and so full of love like when he confessed, he reached and held Riddle’s hand again with a soft hold and squeeze, his voice sweet like honey, “Riddle, I love you. I really do. And with all this happening it made me realize how much I love you more. I don’t know what the future might hold, and if we fight and break up, that's a bridge we’ll cross when it’s built. Right now though, I want to enjoy the few of what we have now… If you want to.”

Riddle blushed and looked down, his hair sweeping his eyes like a curtain call.

“We… We’re pretty different…”

“That’s fine.”

“I’m stubborn…”

“So am I.”

“I get angry a lot…”

“I’ll be there to hold your hand while you rage and cry.”

“You really… You really won’t leave me…?”

Ace tilts Riddle’s face up to him and smiles, “Never in my wildest dream will I dare leave you.” He closed the distance between their lips in a firm sweet kiss. Like the previous kiss, Riddle made a small noise and tensed. But also like the previous kiss, he melted as well and leaned back into those sweet lips he will strongly admit now he dreamt of kissing since he took a taste. Unlike the previous kiss though, he cupped Ace’s cheek and relaxed the kiss more, as if he’ll disappear if he never held him.

The two kissed in soft hums and with softer smiles against lips fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces, fingers dancing across different shades of red as their cheeks warm in happy hearth.

Suddenly, the door opens again and Cater poked his head in with a chipper tune, “Riddle-san~ How are feel-”

The pair part fast upon hearing the door and Cater’s voice, too late to stop the man’s gasp and small squeal, “OhmyGosh! You- and him- You two were- You two are- OMG~ #Cute~!”

Riddle turned to his friend, blushing mad with both the cold and the fact he was caught kissing someone unannounced, “C-Cater..!”

Cater gasped, “Oh right right right, I’ll leave you too alone~” He backs up to the door and exits, leaving his head in as he eagerly whispers out, “Tell me the details later~!”

“Cater/Cater-Senpai!”

As the door shut the two breathed out.

Then, Ace snorted.

Then, Riddle giggled.

The two began to laugh at the scene that happened, heads leaded into each other as they laughed as one.

—

Things got better after that.

Riddle made a full recovery and went back to his usual self, tart eating and all. And Ace went back to his usual self as well, but happier it seemed. He spent most of his time while Riddle was recovering repaying and taking his punishments for his behavior. 

Now it’s the Heartslbyul’s UnHappy Birthday Party, everyone is having a fun time with the activities as the sun shone above them as sweet breezes the wine became.

The roses were perfect, the croquet came wonderfully without a hitch, and Riddle was all smiles and glee. His blue-gray eyes watched as the game finished in an end and as a certain ginger snaps his fingers with a defeated look on his face but still smiles.

“Dammit, lost again.” Ace said, rubbing his neck as the one who beated him in the game laughed in return, “Rule 703-” “Whoever comes 2nd in a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen the next day. Yeah yeah I know.”  The winner blinked at the fact Ace Trappola remembered a rule, not only that but that he’s fine with losing.

“You know, I think he’s doing that on purpose.” Trey said with a soft chuckle as he watched the scene with the dorm leader who giggled as well, “Well we’ll never know, now won't we?”

The ones who played the game came back to the party and began to eat as rewardly promised.

Red eyes catching something rather different than the usual set up. “Hm? I don’t recognize this pie.” Ace spoke up as he tilted his head to the rather cute designed pie.

Riddle spoke up rather eagerly, “I made it.”

The students looked at their Queen pretty surprised. And also scared as the last time he made anything it resulted in a huge assault on all their taste buds with oyster sauce. Deciding to be brave and proud, Ace grabbed a slide and took a mighty bite.

His eyes snap open and spark as his cheeks grow warm in glee. “Holy cow! This is amazing!”

As soon as he said that many took slices and consumed as well, voicing their praise as well and chatted of the great flavor. Riddle smiles shyly, “Thank you. It’s a strawberry and cherry pie.”

Ace tilts his head, “Strawberry and cherry pie.”

Riddle nodded some, pink coming to his cheeks as he looked down, “Mhm… Someone special taught me they go really well together.”

Deuce stared wide-eyed at Ace’s expression. “A-Ace, your face is completely red! Are you okay?!” He asked, obviously worried about his friend.

A smile slowly came to Ace’s lips as he stared at Riddle enjoying a delicious tart to distract from his own blushing face.

“Yeah. Just happy today.”

This is the today's prompt for the @ridoaceweek thingy~!

Song that for some reason played while I was writing Riddle's little breakdown

As for the real song that inspired for the vibe of this fic is-

I love this damn movie and this song is just the best for this pair!

People who liked this series, if you want I can animate this, please let me know!

This was my favorite prompt for RidoAce for someone reason, maybe it's because I dog drama and diving into couples

[hiperchile]

Dykes to Watch Out For Listen To

Hello! Here's 30 lesbian* (*or bisexual etc women. While this post is about music, identities [(L)esbian/(B)isexual/(U)nknown/undeclared/uother] have been noted for the curious amoung you) artists to listen to in this month of pride! Feel more than free to suggest others - this list is just what came to mind and is obviously barely scratching the surface. I have highlighted a few notable works for each, but that absolutely isn't to say you shouldn't try out their other works! Some of these women have giant discographies spanning decades, so there's more than enough to dig through :D That said:

1. Janis Ian - Folk. Active 1965-present. I say this list is in no particular order but that’s except for this spot - if you take one thing away from this post, please let it be go listen to Janis Ian. Go listen to anything and everything she’s done, but I’d especially like to highlight Between the Lines (1975), Breaking Silence (1993), and Strictly Solo (2004, live album).  (L) 

2. Sleater-Kinney - Indie Rock. Active 1994-2006, 2014-present. Highlighting Dig Me Out (1997) and Call the Doctor (1996). (B)

3. Teresa Trull - Folk. Active 1977-present. A Step Away (1986) is marvelous and, considering the sadly low amount of spotify plays, you probably haven’t heard it. (L)

4. Jen Foster - Pop. Active 2001-present. Everybody’s Girl (2006), The White Room Sessions (2016) (U)

5. Ani DiFranco - Indie Folk. Active 1989-present.  Imperfectly (1992) and Not a Pretty Girl (1995) are probably the classics, and personally I’m quite fond of Little Plastic Castle (1998) (B)

6. k.d. lang - Country/folk. Active 1981-present. Obviously Ingénue (1992), but do also consider Shadowland (1988) (revealing my eternal fondness for debut albums <3) and Invincible Summer (2000), if not everything else. (L)

7. Team Dresch - Punk/qcore. Active 1993-1998, 2004-present. Personal Best (1995) and Captain My Captain (1996) are both instant classics of the genre imo. (U) 8. Jill Sobule - Folk-pop. Active 1986-present. Jill Sobule (1995) (of I Kissed a Girl fame) obviously can’t go unmentioned, and on a personal level I can’t not mention Pink Pearl (2000) (B)

9. Atomic Swindlers - Glam. Active 2004-?. I cannot recommend Coming Out Electric (2004) enough. So so so so fun - who doesn’t want intergalactic lesbian love songs? Or, as described by the Village Voice, a “rock opera about spacebiker lesbian stargirls in love”. C’mon. (U) 

10. Melissa Ferrick - Folk-rock. Active 1991-present. Freedom (2000) probably goes without saying, but checking out Everything I Need (1998) or Goodbye Youth (2008) probably wouldn’t disappoint either. (U)

11. Bitch and Animal - qcore. Active 1995-2004. All three albums are great, but Sour Juice and Rhyme (2003) does have Feminist Housewives, so. 

12. Maddie Ross - Pop. Active 2016-present. Look, Maddie is exactly the lesbian pop artist you’ve been looking for. Never Have I Ever (2019) is incredible and no I still haven’t shut up about it. Do you like pop? Do you like lesbians? Do you like incredibly well-executed concept albums? Of course you do, so go listen to this! (As a bonus, go listen to her cover of Scotty Doesn’t Know and thank me later :))(L) 

13. Ember Swift - Folk. Active 1996-present.  Stiltwalking (2002) is so good and more than that it’s just so fun, but don’t sleep on Mid-March Meltdown (2021), either. (U)

14. Jen Cloher - Folk-rock. Active 2001-present. Jen Cloher (2017) is definitely worth a listen, as is Dead Wood Falls (2006) (at the very least). (U)

15. Alix Olson - Spoken word. Active 2001-present. Don’t be scared of by the ‘spoken word’ part! You really don’t have to be poetry person - nor even a lyrics person, gd knows I’m not! - to enjoy. Built Like That (2001) I really can’t rave about enough. This goes from fun and silly to serious and profound, and the whole journey in it is incredible. It’s incredibly captivating, is the truth of it. Not saying Alix is a genius, but... Yeah, a little bit. (U)

16. Jamie Anderson - Folk. Active 1987-present. Three Bridges (2007) is lovely, as is Dare (2013), but her earlier works aren’t to be slept on, either :) (L)

17. Tribe 8 - Punk/qcore. Active 1991-2005. The name tells it all, really. Rude, loud and brash, and really fucking fun. By the Time We Get to Colorado (1995) is basically required listening, and I can’t not say how often I get Lezbophobia stuck in my head, and First City (1995) is fantastic, too. (U)

18. Joan Jett - Rock. Active 1975-present. This is yet another one of those ‘where to even start’, y’know? That being said, I would probably point to Glorious Results of a Misspent Youth (1984) and Sinner (2004) as well as her 1981 debut. As a double suggestion, go listen to The Runaways if you haven’t already, in all their messy glory! :) (U)

19. Grace Petrie - Folk. Active 2006-present. Obviously highlighting Heart First Aid Kit (2017) and There’s No Such Thing as a Protest Singer (2016) (L)

20. Tracy Chapman - Folk. Active 1986-present. Need I really say more? Her self-titled 1988 debut is a great place to start, and Crossroads (1989) (and every album after that) is a great place to continue ;) (U)

21. Kate Reid - Folk. Active 2006-?. You can’t go wrong with I’m Just Warming Up (2009) and Doing it for the Chicks (2011). I mean, charming and funny, what more could you want? (L)

22. Partner - Rock. Active 2014-present. In Search of Lost Time (2017). Boom, simple as that. (U)

23. Hayley Kiyoko - Pop. Active 2013-present. I mean, I couldn’t really not, could I? In all honesty, my favorite of hers remains A Belle to Remember (2013) / This Side of Paradise (2015), but if you’re looking for something more openly “out” you’d probably like Citrine (2016) or Expectations (2018) (L)

24. Ferron - folk. Active 1975-present. Yet another Canadian icon! Do absolutely listen to everything, but my personal reccommendations are Testimony (1980) and Shadows on a Dime (1984). (L)

25. Gina Young - Alt/qcore. Active 2002-present. Intractable (2002) is my darling, but She’s so Androgynous deserves a mention, too. (U)

26. Doria Roberts - Folk. Active 1995-present. Woman Dangerous (2006), and I absolutely cannot stress this enough. Incredible record. (L)

27. Alix Dobkin - Folk. Active 1973-2021 (<3). Lavender Jane Loves Women (1973) and Living with Lesbians (1975) (which have been helpfully merged on Spotify /s) are absolute indusputiable classics. (L)

28. Sara Renberg - Indie. Active 2018-present. (U) Night Sands (2018) !

29. Melissa Etheridge - Rock. Active 1985-present. Yes I Am (1993) times 7000. For real. Absolute indusputiable need-to-listen. Brave and Crazy (1989). Your Little Secret (1995). Everything. (L)

30. Phranc - punk/folk. Active 1970s-present. I’m going to point out Goofyfoot (1995), both because it’s incredible but also it’s the only one easy to find on streaming lmao. (L)

Have fun!

[sockori]

shmupdate 🧦

very long, hastily written, but a look is appreciated

greetings- to those who are somehow still lingering around this account or came up upon it during my desolate time off. it is sock. or sockori.... or raven... my name is actually raven (they/it, 20 yo disabled autistic goth nerd whatever the fuck). howdy

im still on the 'undetermined hiatus' so to speak that i described in my leaving post, but i will say right now that i have no near future plans on returning. in the tags on my newest art, i mentioned my naruto hyperfixation (of like. 6 years i think) finally died out and other interests have long since captured my autism full force. for me personally, when i lose a special interest like this so drastically, i just full on abandon it for as long as it stands. however, this isn't the only thing that made me leave, and i think its time for me to be completely honest & get some weight off my chest.

i made this account around the cusp of turning 14, during a god awful pubescent era where i acted as any other edgy teen does and i'd much rather like to forget these days. what im saying is i was not in the right mindset at all when i exposed myself that much & got the attention that i did. a dismayingly giant coping mechanism i had in my youth was being online 24/7 because i had no one in reality to lean on let alone feel comfortable talking to about anything that was happening at that time. this of course leads to what the kids call these days being 'chronically online'- desperate for some sort of assurance or interaction, i crawled into internet spaces i shouldn't have been for an also incredibly unsupervised child using the dangerous worldwide web.

yes, naruto was apart of this, as well as other interests i had at the time. throughout my journey i met unsavory people, suffered abhorrent things like stalking & gr---ming, saw things i didn't deserve to see, did a bunch of stupid shit an angsty teen does, i believe you understand the rest. i am in no way proud or gleeful about any of these years and have some very sour memories tied to fandom as a whole, not just naruto, and i really don't like reflecting on them. so, unfortunately, this account sorta became a bitter reminder of what i went through as i grew up & finally matured and sought to recover. that's the first part of why my activity fizzled away & i began backing off from internet use entirely.

the second part is sasori. yes, the puppet man. sorta the sole reason i made sockori in the first place. as the sasori enjoyers following / who followed know, this puppeteer has an incredibly unhealthy philosophy and worldview (if the carefully preserved corpses turned puppets and complete lack of humanity didn't give that away), and is safe to say entirely detached from his reality to a nhilistic and suicidal extent. when you autistically fixate on a character like how i did, sometimes this character's rhetoric can seep into your own without you even realizing; Especially when you're a spot where you are incredibly vulnerable and psychologically unstable, as i was in my youth. now i didn't go around believing you should uhhh murder people and preserve them Obviously- actually i began to believe that perhaps there was some peace in obtaining a robotic existence. maybe emotions were useless, perhaps nothing truly mattered, my life didn't matter, art in eternal in the sense that death is scary and i should avoid it at all costs, why make connections with people when they just die or leave, cant trust people at all to help me, xyz. anything in these lines. without going too uncomfortably deep for everyone's sake and mine, it fucked me up severely. i suppose in a way it relates to how he uses poison. his toxins got right into my nervous system, but the pain i felt from those toxins was the only thing i could really rely on at the time, so i just let it happen. such is the depressing case of coping in the worst spot of your life.

cant help but feel incredibly strange telling the tale, as it sounds so obscure doesn't it, but media can truly get inside your psyche like this if a consumer isn't careful. not sure if anyone else out there fell into a similar headspace dealing with interests in this nature- but regardless. what i mean to say is, sasori is now a kind of content i cant consume anymore. i am in a way better place now, have grown wise and balanced with careful recovery and patience, and of course have grown out of whatever teenage nonsense i was on. sasori, who was once the only thing my autistic traumatized ass could lean on, is now an extremely dark shadow on my life. yes i see this homicidal anime puppet dude from a fantasy ninja anime and get psychological distress. he's somewhat of an aggressor or abuser to me now, which is tragic. ive been actively avoiding everything even vaguely relating to him, be it the art of puppetry, anime clips, robotic/sci-fi genre, whatnot cause i just. man. i dont wanna go back there. shouldn't have to explain why at this point. ptsd at its finest

feel like ive been honest enough. sasori enjoyers out there who were just around to enjoy what i made, anyone i happened to be good friends with during my time on this account, this doesn't have anything to do with you guys. i appreciate everyone dearly for supporting me and cheering me on in whatever i made despite all the hell & anguish that was taking place beyond the keyboard. im just glad that i managed to find some way out and get the help i need before i gave up & took my own life, which depressingly i almost did a handful of times. carrying the horrors is an exhausting burden to bare sometimes, but that does not mean i can't look back on the good parts of the era too. and seeing you all happy and sharing my memes or whatever made me ecstatic and at least a little bit hopeful for the future. fortunately that little spark of hope grew into something more. thanks for being a light in a very, very dark room.

that being said, i leave you all with this: i am not dead, just greatly changed, a new person at last freed from apathy & exhaustion, with now enough room to finally grow. the memories will never truly fade & my disabilities will be a part of me until i pass on, but at least now i can manage them a lot better than ever before, surrounded by way better people who love me for who i am. i will hang on the best i can. i wish for you to do the same. find freedom and happiness wherever you are. take care. happy trails

trans rights. i eat fascist souls. free palestine

[sluttyjonahmagnus]

Okay, okay. I've had time to process 5.11 as well as I can. As someone who is going through the anniversaries of people who died recently it was a lot for me. And I don't think I was okay but I made that decision to listen for myself. I'll try to keep spoilers below. Also obviously talk of death and dementia.

This might be me rambling about the series as a whole though.

Unwell, a Midwestern Gothic Mystery means so much to me. And I will be forever saddened when we get that final episode. But I have a little bit of time.

Unwell was there for me when my grandmother was going through her own dementia. We lost her last august. We lost her mother that way too. I know my mother will one day feel things slip and I know that for me.. I will too. But I've got time. At least 50 years if great-gran and gran are anything to go by. But that's just one side of the family.

And that's what this is, isn't it. It's family. It's the highs and lows of loved ones, blood or not. Of them coming and going in your life and you are just unable to stop them from leaving and it hurts. It hurts so much.

Blooms is a child and a parent to me.Blooms forever eternal in the midst of its own unending youth. Blooms can't understand, doesn't want to understand, that people leave. Doesn't understand that it hurts them to leave too.

We see this with Dot and Lily. Lily is forever scorned that her mother 'just left them'. It uprooted her life and she will hold that grudge in her heart for as long as it takes her to heal (and she is healing. Slowly). But Dot did not want to leave. Lily is realizing that now. Dot left on obligation. She's not even blood related but she left because she was chosen. She left her baby and the man she loved with all her heart (yes Dale said they weren't going to make it but.. if there was no fenwood, would they?). If there was no steward at the house, people were going to get hurt. People are getting hurt because the current steward and slowly losing her grip and is possibly on her way out. She has let things slip because she does not have the support she needs in the years that are sloping downhill towards her own spot in the cemetery.

And Lily comes and she's only suppose to stay for a bit but she decides to stay for longer and it's not enough to help Dot. And Dot's not enough to help Lily. They might never be enough.

And that's okay.

Because sometimes you can't help your child and sometimes you can't help your parent. The trauma of being a child who was never understood by their parents to becoming a parent who can't understand their child and of that child who can't understand their parent and can't be understood. It's unending. But that's what it means to be a parent and a child and a person. Constantly growing and learning and fitting into the complex human reality of it never being quite enough.

And Blooms has to live through that, forever. Of people in and out of their life and when they think they can understand their loves, they're gone. They leave or die or are taken away in such a violent manner that it forever changes the ripples of the water. And they feel like they've been abandoned and forgotten but they haven't. Because there's a community of people that love them, even if it's just below the surface of their mind.

And Silas.. Silas. Silas who was cast out and discarded and hurts so much that he can't remember anything else but that hurt. Because even if he hurt people, did the ones he loved also not get hurt? 'The gardener's job is also to remove weeds'. And maybe it was all his fault for the horrific things that happened. That's another form of memory loss, isn't it. You don't remember your life but you remember feelings but it's not enough.

Everyone Lily told to rest was loved deeply by their parents. And maybe that love hurt them in the end. Because they didn't understand how to help. 'I made her too sad' 'I need help!' 'I can't, lie down and pray' and how Wes's dad never gave up trying to contact him again and it might've hurt him and his wife.

and it's not their fault.

Everyone needs help but not everyone knows how to help and it's not their fault for being on either side of that line.

And sometimes they leave and sometimes they don't. And sometimes living and screaming and crying isn't enough to fill the empty space they left. The hole is too deep for all the water.

All you can do is rest.

[calamitys-child]

Put your money where your mouth is Aidan I want a thematic analysis of the sex scene in Jason X (I have never seen Jason X)

Oh MAN okay so Jason X is, possibly hands down, my favourite bad movie. Its the funniest bad horror sequel I've ever seen. It's got space stations. It's got cryogenics. It's got INCREDIBLY 00s fashion. David Cronenberg, yes, The Cronenberg, specifically asked to be in it only so he could be killed in a very stupid way after 2 minutes of screen time. At one point a guy gets killed by being knocked off a platform onto a big spiral aerial type thing and you watch his corpse corkscrew the whole way down and I laughed so hard i had to pause the movie because I thought I might either choke or piss myself. It's Bad. I love it unreservedly.

That said, it has been a while since I watched it so I am a little vague on the details and have refreshed myself by skimming the Wikipedia page. Tried to rewatch the scene but I am on a bus so my signal is not quite good enough. I will do my best from memory.

The Friday the 13th movies have always had a theme of responsibility of adults and older teens for the kids and teenagers in their care and, by extension, are often thematically full of Having Sex (Ir)Responsibly. The plot twist in the first one is actually really good - Jason is not the killer! Jason is a child who dies in an accident at his summer camp because the counsellors supposed to be keeping watch on him snuck off to shag in the storage room instead. The killer is his mother, seeking to avenge him by murdering the camp counsellors who she catches having sex. It's a core founder of the "if you fuck you die" trope in horror.

How does Jason get so hugelarge and get a machete? No idea. How does he get to space? Doesn't matter. Have I seen any of the other sequels between the original and Jason X? Not clear-headed, though I do vaguely I think remember watching one when I had the flu real bad and fell asleep a bunch of times.

Basic plot, for context: a professor leads a bunch of students to excavate the cryogenically frozen body of Jason and realises that, because he's so big and unkillable, he could definitely sell Jason's body for lots of money and fame to people looking to profit off of eternal youth. Jason awakens, mayhem ensues.

As I remember it, the first sex scene that immediately comes to mind involves a sadomasochistic encounter between a student and a supervisor, heavy overtones of "fuck me for good grades and fame and success". The wiki page doesnt specify this so i MIGHT be getting it confused with another film but it is definitely something I remember noting about it so for the sake of this discussion I'm going to assume I've got that right. Obviously, then, this links to the core theme of "Having sex with people as a distraction from the duty of care you have over people". While these characters are fucking, Jason is waking up, only attended by the students, and beginning his murder day out in space. Again, these deaths could have been prevented if there was a separation kept between Doing Your Job and Getting Some Pussy, and the dynamics of the scene lean into ideas of sex as power and of appropriate vs inappropriate sexual acts. I also seem to remember the younger girl being the dominant participant in the scene which again comes down to some kind of "horror movie punishing Deviant tm sex Specifically" trope, horror as a genre is really preoccupied with presentations and performances of masculine and feminine, male and female, active and passive, and things which blur these distinctions or confuse these binaries are a major focus and source of fascination but are also almost always resolved by either "Correcting" the gender (girl stops being an adolescent tomboy and gets a boyfriend) or destroying it (if you do things "wrong" you die). This is very much a basic summary I recommend Clover's "Her body, himself" for it explained better than I can on a bus with no coffee.

Another heavily sexual scene in the movie is when they try to capture/subdue Jason by putting him in the holodeck and playing a simulation of two hot half-naked young women at summer camp, which distracts him in a paralysis between violence and desire. This echoes the themes of the first film; first, that sexuality is very often a dominant preoccupation for adolescents and young adults and the question of whether it is appropriate to condemn them for having or desiring sex; secondly, that the tension between condemnation and desire can cause impulses to violence, like the far-right leanings in incel groups; thirdly, the cycles of repeating trauma, Jason here wanting the thing that killed him showing that, like his mother, he is playing out the cycles of trauma again. This is all a very psychoanalytic reading which is not at all my usual thing for good movies (read Skin Shows by Halberstam for, again, a much more competent analysis of why psychoanalysis is often reductive when applied to horror) but I think Jason X does lend itself to this lens and, again, busposting from memory not a fully researched essay. Jason then kills them by putting them in sleeping bags and hitting one sleeping bag with another which is on the one hand a reference to the "young women pillow fighting" sexual titillation motif but is, more importantly, absurdly funny to watch.

Like I've said throughout this, it's been almost a year and a half since I watched this film, but I absolutely do think the themes of sexuality are a significant enough part of it to not be dismissed offhand!

[whenthechickencry]

Cornelia, The New Priest

Released between EP5 and EP6.

The episode starts with listing how Cornelia's job betrayed her expectations, starting with her having more free time than she thought she would and having a "looser" atmosphere than she thought.

She then complains about her lunch break being 15 minutes more than in the books and how she is allowed to speak in normal language in the office, I am sorry Cornelia but oh my god would I hate having you as a coworker.

We dog et some background into why Cornelia is like this, though, apparently she used up any allowance money she received in order to attend weekly court language class, and her parents were poor. Certainly feels like they aren't taking seriously something she used a lot of effort to learn

Some foreshadowing for Will here, neat.

Cornelia isn't in the department she wanted, she is in General Affairs, despite top students usually getting their choice and Cornelia being top of the class. They mention it probably has to do with the interviews, which I assume they noticed she's kind of naive and probably too by the book for field stuff.

Cornelia's issue is not that she won't speak in normal language but she can't, despite very obviously speaking the same language others struggle to understand her. I can relate a little bit as someone that's bilingual but has an accent that I can't rid of, lol. Anyways, everyone kind of hates her after failing to order and considers her incompetent...

Cornelia and Gertrude meet, which fills Cornelia with newfound confidence as they both struggle to communicate, so if she can be promoted so can she. She admonishes Gertrude in her head about not speaking in court language, and Gertrude corrects her way of thinking.

Gertrude then recommends for Cornelia to submit to some projects, and that she has high hopes for her.

Cornelia I think some offices would kill you on the spot if you suggested this as a newbie.

Cornelia is struggling a lot between ideal and reality, how to make her dreams come true while still operating within what is possible. It's hard to not feel very bad for her as she goes on with this even if you don't agree with her at all.

Cornelia is pretty sharp about her flaws and about what must be done, all things considered... it's just a lot harder to apply what you know abstractly to be true when it's not what you are used to at all.

After talking with Gertrude about changing the world vs changing yourself, Gertrude resolves to first focus on becoming an adult, someone who can face the hardships of day-to-day life, before trying to change the world.

This episode is speaking surprisingly close to my heart right now. I used to feel really bad about how useless I thought I was, how little skills I had, how there was no point in even trying because I am incompetent. But internalizing that I have a lot of time to learn things, and that even if I might be a little behind compared to others that is perfectly ok, I will keep trying and I will learn the skills I want to learn, has helped me a lot.

Meanwhile, with Dlanor and Gertrude...

Dlanor's eternal youthfulness gets a bit of a recontextualization here, with the whole being naive and childish but keeping your ideals vs becoming an adult, you can see Dlanor as someone who managed to achieve both. This one was really neat, actually, I like characterization for the side characters and this story hit a lot of notes that felt were very needed to me at this moment.

[angie-long-legs]

The turned-to-stone question wasn't a kink thing, per se. I was just thinking about it because I read an interesting story recently. It was about a man who wished for eternal youth and beauty, and had his wish granted when he was turned into a statue. Which ... is one way of staying young and beautiful forever, but probably not the way he envisioned.

And he was at the coast when he was transformed, so he got beaten by the wind a lot, and the waves lapped at his ankles, and he wondered whether he'd erode until he was unrecognisable, and when he'd finally crumble completely.

Oh, yeah, he was still alive and thinking this whole time, but he couldn't move or speak anymore, so he felt like he was stuck in a prison, and no-one could hear his cries for help, and he wanted to be rescued and changed back but also feared he would lose his mind before that happened...

Sorry, I know I'm rambling! I just thought it might be fun to talk about fiction with a ... fellow creative, as it were.

What about you, huh? Not that I think you'd ever make such a foolish wish, obviously, but .. how would you cope if you were turned to stone?

Turned to stone. Incapable of moving, unable to escape any suffering bestowed upon him. Trapped in a paralytic prison of his own choosing, all for the sake of being beautiful, admirable, perfect. Bound by his mistakes to a mockery of his desires. Helpless. Hopeless.

What a terrible fate.

"Hah!" Angel snorted, pushing these unwelcome thoughts aside. "Sure sounds like a kink ta me, doll. Ya can't move, can't speak... What about that don't sound like bein' bound and gagged? If I was turned ta stone, I'd want someone ta have a little fun with me! Especially if I was young an' beautiful forever... Though, I already got that one covered!"