#and then unrelated. i had like. a crisis of sorts

[hsslilly-blog]

okay guys i’ll be honest about my first (official) day of internship. not only it sucked but also i wasn’t feeling well the entire time lol

[smaeemo]

On the topic of s8 buddie speculation, I think that it’s important to recognize that they are actual adults.

Like these are fully grown men, who are inherently recovering and still mentally growing, but they are not teens or even young adults at this point. With Tommy specifically, my guy Tommy is a fully grown 40 year old, comfortable stable person who is experienced and confident within his identity and relationship. And while Buck has always been a little more immature, he is growing and getting healither and healthier as the seasons progress.

So as of right now Bucktommy is ideal for the two of them, but when it comes to Eddie it is a completely different ordeal.

Eddie’s emotional and mental states are in crisis mode, with chris, SINCE shannon, PTSD, all of above. And with adding in Marisol, and specificlally his relationship with God, this is now a perfect avenue for his queer identity. HOWEVER, With the Chris timeline, there has to be closure on one before the other, most likely chris first.

Here’s what I think will happen BRIEF IDEA

Chris -> Eddie Queer -> Eddie realizes he loves Buck -> Bucktommy break up due to TOMMY realizing this -> Buddie fight -> Eddie & Tommy talk + Eddie and team talk (or carla)-> Buck realizes/eddie tells him(but not fully establishedor resolved) -> DRAMA UNRELATED -> Big emotional AGGHH (Possibly to do with Chris) -> resolve that issue -> Circle back to the topic of their love -> Buck talks to peeps -> DRAMA -> Buddie Canon

(Buck and Eddie can be interchanged in specific parts due to the general theme of the dramas or perhaps the “confession” of sorts)

However my point is…

- Tommy will not be a bad sport and is NOT a bad person or bad for Buck. Wrong person wrong time, but a lovely couple as of right now. Specifically for Buck’s development. (I really hope they strengthen and continue Tommy’s character because I love him, and because I don’t think he should be known exclusively as a catalyst for Buck’s identity, kind of like Taylor was :()

- For Buddie to go canon, the Chris issue has to be resolved first WHICH could come before or after Eddie’s queer realization. Specifically after, perhaps due to his repressed feelings and idenrity becoming a prominent figure in his self care, and willingness to change. AND let go of Shannon IN A HEALTHY WAY. (also parent stuff)

- This is not high school, they are adults. BUCK HAD HIS ARC!! Eddie needs to figure out his shit.

- They are flawed and complex characters, so while yes, this is 9-1-1 so it will be theatrical, it will not be immature.

- It will be MESSY and DRAMATIC and with REALISTIC (ish) themes

-> Think of Bathena, Henren, Madney

- Buddie is a longstanding want from the Fandom, ergo, if executed wrong, there will be an actual outrage (look at how they reacted to Tommy) so this was/will be a very complicated and complex writing!

- OR casually dropped in (I highly doubt this option)

- Most of all, Chris is the main priority within Eddie’s life, so the Chris Arc and EDDIES arc need to take place PRIOR to canonical Buddie.

- Buck has suspiiously not gone through anything this seaosn.. so keep an eye out for that…

- TOMMY IS NOT BAD. I REPEAT TOMMY IS NOT BAD.

-> Not the right longterm relationshup for either of them, but a HEALTHY one

- Buddie may not go canon this season, but it’s still possible THEY HAVE ALL THE BUILDING BLOCKS

- But on a more media related note, please take into account:

-> Actors comfort

-> ABC’s policies

-> And of course, plotline: due to the NATIONAL/GLOBAL want and demand for Buddie, this arc would over shadow most other arcs, so other character arcs need to take place, and really develop before canon buddie

-> Also, please be respectful of other people, actors, and of course writers. As viewers we don’t see so much, and of course all media can be intperetted in many various ways, and even if you don’t agree, please respect and have compassion for your fellow 9-1-1 enjoyers (specifically regarding all of the listed items).

Ok, Stay safe, stay respectful, stay on the watch for potential buddie themes, be patient and most of all, have compassion for all parties involved, fictional and production wise.

[nightcolorz]

I'd love to hear your thoughts about what was going on in armand's head in the books after he turned daniel. do you think the lack of telepathy between them was a factor? do you think he felt guilty for turning him or just sortof didnt know what to do now that it was done, or both? what do you think changed to allow them to get back together in the end? do you think anything could have gone differently so that they didnt separate after qotd? also unrelated loving the kill marius tag 10/10 I hope he explodes and dies forever

TY I LOVE THESE QUESTIONS!!! And thank u lmaoo so true Marius die challenge.

I’ve kind of talked about a lot of this before in my post about why I think Armand and Daniel’s relationship ends in the books but I’ll make this post into a sort of tldr lol. for my own comprehension sake I’m going to answer ur questions in an autism friendly list, lmao

do you think the lack of telepathy between them was a factor? —Yes absolutely. Armand struggles a ton with verbal communication as well as being open and vulnerable with his loved ones (especially Daniel). I think that Armand definitely had a crisis after he turned Daniel bcus he was feeling a ton of grief and sadness after his turning and in addition, had his most comfortable mode of communication stripped from him. Armand in tvl doesn’t speak out loud for most of the book, which makes me think he finds telepathy much easier then speaking, and it was definitely a big part of his dynamic with Daniel. Armand defaults to using telepathy when he has trouble speaking about certain topics, or is in a headspace where he has trouble talking in general. it’s very likely armand wasn’t commutating with Daniel at all once they didn’t have the telepathy bond which was def a factor in their relationship falling apart. Daniel probably felt neglected by Armand and didn’t know why since he suddenly wasn’t talking. Get this boy a communication device 😭

do you think he felt guilty for turning him or just sort of didnt know what to do now that it was done, or both?—I think he felt guilty, and also like a failure. Armand’s vow to never turn someone into a vampire is incredibly important to him, and possibly one of his only moral standards he is dedicated to holding onto. Armand considers turning someone into a vampire an unforgivable evil he would never want to participate in, he thinks that the maker and fledgling dynamic is doomed from the start bcus fledglings will always grow to hate their makers, and he thinks that this is inevitable bcus vampirism is a curse that no one will ever get anything good from. As Armand sees it, him turning Daniel was both selfish and cruel, bcus he cursed Daniel horribly out of the selfish desire to keep him alive against his own good, and it was also a forgoing of his most important boundary and therefore a forgoing of his humanity and his morals. So needless to say Armand is kind of going through it after he turns Daniel, lmao

what do you think changed to allow them to get back together in the end?—I think that Armand’s complex about vampirism and his own trauma fueled perspective on the world was the main contributor in Daniel and Armand’s relationship ending, and I think they are able to make it work during the Prince lestat era bcus Armand goes through a lot of growth since queen of the damned, especially in the vampire Armand. After his suicide attempt and his gaining of his human children Armand begins to become genuinely more content, confident, capable of overcoming his trauma set backs, self aware, etc, and I think Armand just being a more happy and optimistic person in itself did wonders for his relationship with Daniel. He always thought of their dynamic as a doomed to fail tragedy, so when he reunites with Daniel and takes on a more optimistic approach they have a lot less conflict. I also think Daniel no longer being an unhinged alcoholic and going through his own growth period helped tremendously lol.

do you think anything could have gone differently so that they didnt separate after qotd?—I tend to see it as an inevitability that their relationship ended that way. The only thing u could change would be making Armand and Daniel completely different people and changing everything about their relationship, lmao. Every little thing in the devils minion chapter, including Daniel and Armand as characters, is a small contributor to a relationship that is about to burst in flames 😭😭 I’m just happy they work it out later on lol

Thank u for the ask!!!! I loved answering and thinking about these questions!!

[darcytaylor]

You know, the more I see this play out the more I wonder, was there a stupider reason for the pap walk? Like, does A have some sort of influencer power couple fantasy that she talked L into? Were they hoping to get invited to events as a unit, but miscalculated how disliked A would be? Did he panic about being seen just as Colin, so he felt the need to make a clean break from the show and quickly set up some sort of unrelated narrative for himself? It's all just so bizarre and I feel like we're missing crucial information here to connect all the dots. Honestly I feel like he's a bit naive and a people pleaser, it would make sense if he's doing things to further A's career without being asked or even realizing. L screams anxious-preoccupied attachment style to me. Like, maybe he took on the burden of delivering on her ambitions? There's no doubt in my mind that she'll show up as a dancer on the show next season, they've done nepo hires for small things before.

It was an interesting decision for sure. I obviously do not know who was behind it, or why anybody would have thought it was a good idea. I'm sure Luke and his team aren't happy with the results since it's still being talked about (and not in a good way) over a month after.

There isn't a single positive thing that came from that whole situation. It was bad for Luke's public image, for his career, it was even bad for Antonia (this situation made Luke's fans dislike her even more, and because of this I don't think she has any chance to redeem herself to the public).

I have said before that I think it is possible that Luke had wanted to come forward with his relationship after the New Year video was released. I think that his actions afterward showed signs of this. Maybe Luke was done waiting and wanted it to be officially out.

I have also said that maybe his team thought that since it was the day of the release, people would be happy about that and kind of sweep Luke's private life and actions under the rug. (an no I'm not saying this was a smart move, or one that should have been made, but it's possible)

I do find it weird that Antonia did leave the tagged photos on her social media for days. This screams that she was okay with the situation and wanted people to know, even though it was causing havoc on Luke's life. But maybe it just took them that long to realize the situation was only getting worse, people were not going to be happy and then that's when crisis management became involved.

But at the end of the day we know nothing. We don't have any solid facts other than it was an insane misjudgement, where the consequences are still being played out.

[thenightling]

What I think is the ACTUAL meaning behind the movie Nightmare before Christmas:

I was googling the meaning behind a Danny Elfman song today and something unrelated popped up. It was a Tor dot com article about the "Meaninglessness of Nightmare before Christmas."

It seemed "profound" as far as online articles go but obnoxiously it was clearly an opinion piece dealing with someone's personal interpretation that the movie has no meaning. And Google had sucked up as a valid source of information and "facts." And it was mostly just this pretentious author insisting that the whole thing is "beautifully meaningless." and there's no moral and no one grows and there's no meaning at all. Yeah... No. I disagree. I do NOT think The Nightmare before Christmas is meaningless. Though I don't think it is the deepest thing ever. "Or perhaps it's really not as deep as I've been lead to think. Am I trying much to hard?" - Jack Skellington quote from the song Jack's Obsession by Danny Elfman.

And no, I don't fall in line with the popular interpretation that it's a big metaphor for cultural appropriation. That sort of thing never mattered much to Tim Burton as a film topic and he has said he was just inspired by seeing a store window display change over from Halloween to Christmas. So what do I think it's actually about? ...Love.

Let me explain. We begin with Jack finishing a successful Halloween but he feels empty inside. For all the praise and cheer, he's lonely, isolated. He's the big celebrity everyone fauns over. He knows he's popular but he's always separate, always alone. He has his dog but that's it. He's lonely in that crowd of cheering fans. He feels a longing and he doesn't know what that longing is for. He aches for someone to just understand and accept him, not idolize him. An equal. A companion. When he discovers Christmas that "Empty place is filling up." Christmas spirit is all about love. The Muppet Christmas Carol even has the song "The Love we've Found." The joy Jack associates with Christmas is akin to love. He wants others to feel this happiness, this desire to give and bring joy to others. What he is experiencing is something David Bowie once decribed in his song called Soul Love. "All I have is my love of love. A love that's not loving." Jack tries to share this wonderful feeling with the rest of Halloween but they don't understand it. Most of them don't crave love the way he (and Sally) do. And Christmas is all about love. Not necessarily romantic or carnal love but a love, just the same. A love for others, a love to give. A love of making others happy. Jack substitutes love with Christmas. And he wants to share it with his people. "Well, at least they're excited but they don't understand that special kind of feeling in Christmas Land. Oh, well..." Through the story Jack goes through an identity crisis, partly out of boredom and partly out of this child-like craving for love he doesn't fully understand. Sally gets it though. "Jack, I know you think something's missing..." First Jack has to come to terms with himself and self-acceptance. He does that. He comes to a new appreciation for who and what he is as he talks himself out of despair in the song "Poor Jack." when he exclaims "I am The Pumpkin King!" And then at the very end of the movie he finally connects with that thing he had been missing all along. And it's fitting that it's on Christmas that he discovers that thing he's been longing for - love, combined with a new reinvigorated appreciation for who and what he is. He finally finds that love that fills the void in both himself and in Sally because she has already told us that she feels the same way as Jack (*Whispers* She's just smarter than him...). Though Sally didn't exist in Tim Burton's original children's book / poem that became the film, he did approve of the creation of the character Sally and provided the early concept art. He even modeled Sally on his then girlfriend, Lisa Marie. And the book The Making of Nightmare before Christmas tells us that Sally gave the film its heart. She gave substance to the thing Jack was longing for and had never known- the love of another that wasn't idol worship. I know Henry Selick was the director and Caroline Thompson wrote the script but Tim Burton created the characters and he told the story bit by bit to Danny Elfman, who composed the songs before there was a script. So they conceived of Sally before anyone else and I think Danny Elfman caught on to what an important keystone Sally was for the story. Also Tim Burton is a romantic at heart. All of his films have a love story in there somewhere. And he tends to prefer that the couples get their fairytale ending "And they lived Happily Ever After." He even managed to turn Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow into a romantic fairy tale with a happy ending in his 1999 film, Sleepy Hollow. So there you have it. I feel that the real meaning behind Nightmare before Christmas- the thing Jack was longing for and ultimately realized was right there waiting for him- was love.

[girderednerve]

i am not very good at making friends

when i was an undergraduate, there was another student in my major but two years ahead of me who was more or less widely acknowledged as extremely cool & incredibly smart. i went to a very small school, where everyone in a major knew each other pretty unavoidably (we did not call them 'majors' but you get it). anyway i was terrifically impressed by her; she was a student writing assistant, and she gave me feedback on a paper once that gave me a minor personal crisis (apparently i am 'good at mimicking the voice of the academy'). we hung out a couple times in group settings & then chatted a little bit over the summer via, oh my god, facebook messenger, & i spent the whole time going 'i am very dull, and she is not dull at all. i don't really understand what she's getting out of this,' but i think in fact she was interested in being my friend. i was sort of aware of that possibility at the time, but i was too self-conscious for it to really work out. i hope she is well; she was kind to me.

at the time, we had a conversation where she talked a bit about how she had tried to leverage the 'cool kid' cred you get as e.g. a junior camp counselor to try to get people around her to be nicer to each other, and i remember thinking, you know, it must hurt: it must hurt to be the kind of obviously clever that makes people want to collect you, or think of you primarily in terms of 'being impressive.' i have never been this kind of social personality & spent some time resentful of this fact, or rather envious of people who accomplished local fame, but i think now that it involves (post not unrelated entirely to my j*ss wh*don post, lmao) knowing that people around you are a) interested in your cleverness, or your social competence, or whatever, not the whole messy shape of you and b) relating to you as something other than a friend. there are multiple ways to handle this situation & it surely is a great deal better than ostracization & cruelty, but still. one of my good friends semi-regularly has people treat her as a person that they might like to collect, because she is very clever & energetic & interesting, and it just makes me want to kick those people in the shins; one simply cannot move through the world by finding people who seem like cooler versions of oneself & then treating them that way. that pattern of thinking diminishes the person you're thinking about, but it also feels like, unkind? to yourself? i don't know. i catch myself at this with some frequency.

i'm not sure there is a neat summation or that i've described a coherent phenomenon but it's something that i think about semi-regularly, not least because there is currently a lot of social concern about 'parasocial' relationships (mostly but not exclusively with online content creators) & the pattern feels familiar to some in-person, well-established dynamics. should i read a psychology paper about this? alas, i hate psychology. but if you have thoughts or recommendations please do share, even if the thought is 'log off;' & also i would be glad to be your friend, if you would like an internet friend

[smaller-comfort]

Wip wednesday except a) it's monday and the passage of time is a subjective social construct and b) instead of a piece of actual writing, you get stupid background facts and ideas that haven't made it past the brainstorm phase. Brain is full of bees. Bees are not great at narrative or dialogue. Alas!

I'd do some sort of ask meme, maybe- give me a character and I'll give you a random fact that hasn't shown up in a story yet.

Here's some modern AU and miscellaneous necrons (tired old men, and monster boyfriends) to start.

Modern AU Aephorul has a t-shirt that says "I'm here to eat ass and chew bubblegum. And I'm all outta gum." Resh'an gave it to him for Christmas one year instead of getting him a new pair of booty shorts with ominous quotes on them.

He's not allowed to wear it out of the house ("Why did you give it to me, then?" "Because it reminded me of you. And I will treasure the look on your face when you opened that box until the day I die." The look on Aephorul's face was pure, unguarded delight, and he laughed until he cried.) But he has absolutely shown up in the background of Resh'an's zoom calls with it on when they both work from home. He's reached cryptid status among Resh'an's advisees, which he finds hilarious. Resh'an will vehemently deny that he's trying to encourage this behavior, but secretly he also thinks it's funny. (There's a whiteboard in the physics lounge with a tally of Aephorul sightings for the semester.)

-----

Anyway this is what I'm writing instead of petplay. *facepalm* It's fine. I'm also stuck in a state of minor crisis over the fact that I'm inevitably going to give Aephorul a goddamn fursona. This is both largely unrelated to the petplay and also extremely embarrassing for me. *double facepalm*

Somewhere between Oltyx leaving on his suicide mission and Denet summoning the monoliths, Erraph basically tackles Parreg in a corridor in a fit of 'holy shit we're not dead yet but we're absolutely going to die soon so this is my last chance'.

Existential crisis aside, one of them has blood streaked across his necrodermis and of course Erraph is just as cursed as the rest of them. "If I'm going to lose myself, it might as well be at your side. Better here than anywhere else."

Parreg is barely holding his shit together at this point; the destruction of his home planet, the inevitable decline of his dynasty, even his own descent into madness- fine. Okay. At least he was going to die with dignity, and not fail his king any further. But surviving? While his king goes off to die? (And this is the second time the survivors of Sedh have watched Oltyx leave on a suicide mission. Once was understandable, and he was only nomarch at the time- but twice is a pattern, and a concerning one at that.)

---

I'm not writing any of this! I'm not. I have no desire to write the tragic confessions of a pair of despairing bureaucrats who have spent their eternity engaged in useless, senseless grousing. (They had a place and a purpose in necrontyr society- grain master and magistrate- but as necrons? Without purpose, without respect, without hope for anything but stagnation and madness? *foaming at the mouth*)

Nate Crowley, come here, I just wanna talk. In lieu of that, I will continue to be unhinged and unwell about these bitter old men, and maybe someone else will write it for me.

Okay, so I know we're all here for Anrakyr/Thaszar but I would like everyone to also perhaps contemplate Yenekh being sexy while he runs into Thaszar attempting to capture the aeldari battle cruiser he and his legions just boarded.

Alliances with flayers are uncomfortable at best for most necrons- but Thaszar is already a bit of a pariah in necron space, so it's not like this would make it any worse. It's a mutually beneficial relationship- the flayers are after a different sort of bounty, after all. (Oltyx is still skeptical but he isn't going to spoil Yenekh's fun. He decides to extract assurances that the Sarnekh forces will leave his people unharmed directly from Thaszar and then has to deal with the fact that oh no he's hot.)

Alternatively, Lysikor is lurking somewhere in the Sarnekh fleet- Thaszar's betrayal and overthrow of his dynasty is legendary. He could learn a lot from someone like that.

[thewertsearch]

FCG: I CAN'T SHAKE THE FEELING SOMEONE ELSE MUST BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS. FCG: IT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE IT WAS SOMETHING THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN IN OUR SESSION. FCG: SOLLUX HAS THE SAME INTUITION ABOUT IT AS ME, HE THINKS THERE'S SOMETHING FII2HY ABOUT IT.

If Sollux is the one who smells a rat, then maybe the mechanism of the Mistake relates to one of his interests, such as coding. Sollux would surely notice the telltale signs of a botched ~ATH script, or other supernatural programming error. 

Sburb’s source code doesn’t control the Medium - but it did transport the kids there. Maybe they’ll try to reverse this process, opening a gateway out of the Incipisphere to escape their failed session - but since none of them can code properly, the program actually tears holes in unrelated sessions, such as the trolls’. 

FCG: HE SAYS HE'S WORKING ON TRACING THE ORIGIN OF THIS DISASTER.

I love how Kanaya’s sitting right behind the origin of this disaster. 

FCG: IN A WEIRD WAY I'M SORT OF LOOKING FORWARD TO HAVING SOMETHING NEW TO BE PISSED OFF ABOUT. FCG: IT'S NOT LIKE THERE'S ANYTHING ELSE TO LIVE FOR NOW ANYWAY.

I totally get it. The whole team must be...

Actually, let’s think about this. Now that I’m familiar with all the trolls, how do I think each of them is reacting to their failure? 

Aradia saw this coming, of course. Before the session, she was completely 0k with their inevitable failure - but now that she’s partially alive again, that might be about to change. We do know that she’s going to be uncomfortable with Project Trolling - but why? 

Tavros misses Prospit. That aside, he’s probably just happy to get to relax after their month-long campaign. 

Sollux is suspicious. Something has gone very wrong, and he suspects that the cause lies outside the session. Plus, he’s apparently been spending a lot of time with Feferi... 

Nepeta probably misses the outdoors. We don’t know much about her role in the session, so I can’t tell if she’s going to be heavily involved in the current crisis. What’s a Rogue to do? 

Kanaya is surrounded by her scared, confused teammates, and her level-headedness is surely being tested. She’s probably working closely with more reasonable trolls like Karkat, and desperately scanning Rose’s guide for any clues about their situation. Once she realizes the truth, she’s going to be livid. 

Terezi’s skills lie with people. She’s keeping a close eye on her peers, trying to figure out how they’re responding to this disaster, and who might become a problem. She also finds the whole thing kind of funny. 

Isn’t it awful, Vriska, to be forced into a loss through no fault of your own?

Equius probably blames the session’s failure on its lowblood leader. He might try to take command, but I think he’ll be distracted by relationship drama with Aradia. That one ain’t gonna last.

Gamzee hasn’t been paying attention, and still thinks the session is in full swing. He’s just chillin’. 

Eridan doesn’t understand what went wrong, and doesn’t care - he’s still struggling with the fallout of Alternian societal collapse. Unlike Equius, he has no relationships to distract him, and I’m expecting an actual coup attempt. 

Feferi has grown closer to Sollux, who is about to locate the humans. She’s probably involved in this search, since she’s going to unite the two races. 

FCG: LAST SWEEP'S EVE WAS PROBABLY THE LAST HAPPY MEMORY I HAVE IN FACT. FCG: WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO FOR THE LAST HOLIDAY? FCG: ANYONE? FCG: I REMEMBER MY LUSUS HAD BEEN GONE FOR DAYS AND I WAS STARTING TO GET WORRIED. FCG: BUT THEN HE FINALLY RETURNED, TRIUMPHANT. FCG: HE BROUGHT THE FRESH BEHEMOTH LEAVING INTO OUR HIVE, AND TOGETHER WE DECORATED IT. FCG: AND FCG: I DUNNO FCG: THAT'S ALL I CAN SAY, I'M GETTING A LUMP IN MY SQUAWK BLISTER.

Alternia hates its young.

It hates them. It really does. They’re forced to prove their worth in the brooding caverns before they can even speak - and even if they survive, many of them will be murdered by the state for arbitrary reasons. They’re killed for being single, for being mutants, and for standing too close to a body of water, for fuck’s sake. This planet hates the children who call it home.

But they still have holidays. 

If that isn’t the most bittersweet thing I’ve ever heard. Alternia scoffs at art, fashion, peace and family, but in a strange twist of fate, it does not scoff at Sweep’s Eve - presumably, the troll equivalent of New Year’s Eve. On this brutal, pragmatic planet, these kids celebrate the simple joy of a new beginning - just like us. 

There’s a crumb of warmth baked into Alternian society, despite everything its leaders have done to stamp it out. 

FCG: I GUESS I'M DONE. FCG: I'M GOING TO LIE DOWN NOW FCG: ON THE STEEL FLOOR OF THIS FRIGID METEOR DRIFTING THROUGH THE BLACK UNCARING VOID OF OUR NULL SESSION. FCG: NULL, KIND OF LIKE THIS MEMO I GUESS

For its inhabitants, this warmth can be rather hard to find... 

But it’s there. 

[nightfury-2001]

Okay so. Self-indulgent HTTYD fanfic idea!!! (+ General stuff about main AU

Can't get this out of my head so I'm putting this out there even though I'm not sure I'll ever write a single chapter for this lol

To start off - I imagine this story would feature almost exclusively OCs and have basically nothing to do with canon characters until possibly waaaaay later into the story or like, a sequel if I got that far. It also would take place in my version of the HTTYD universe/my main AU, so certain major events happened differently or never happened at all, various minor details may be changed or ignored entirely, a couple of dragon species may be redesigned if they appear at all, etc..

Really what I'm trying to say is this fic wouldn't be something very many people would be interested in and I'm totally okay with that lol.

Anyway, with that out of the way let's get into what it would actually be about:

After what was supposed to be an easy job goes horribly wrong, a young dragon trapper has an experience that challenges her beliefs and causes her to question if she really wants to continue in her parent's footsteps.

(She stares at the beast. At first glance, it is so very different. But is it truly that different after all?)

As you probably guessed from that simple summary or whatever you'd call it, the fic would be about a young dragon trapper/hunter questioning what she's been taught all her life about dragons after one saves her, and the friendship that slowly forms between her and that dragon. (And yes I imagine the dragon is a Northern Night Fury* because this would be written by me, were you expecting anything different lmaoo)

I realize it could perhaps be a bit too similar to HTTYD 1.....what can I say, it's my favorite movie and I really love it and its themes - but really I do feel like the story/characters I'm imagining are different enough to not have it feel like a cheap knockoff.

But anyway! A couple of details and things I've come up with so far because I have more than just the main idea(s):

- The fic would begin a little after the events of HTTYD 2 - which I imagine HTTYD 2 happened mostly the same as in canon, but I'm seriously debating having Hiccup be the chief/stay the chief in my main AU. Not to go off on a bit of an unrelated tangent but honestly, I'm one of the people that thinks he's just not that well suited for the role. And like yeah, I get the whole parallel - Hiccup becomes the leader of the humans of Berk like how Toothless becomes the leader of the dragons of Berk - but I'm just saying even some of the people who worked on the film thought Astrid should be chief lol

- Anyway so I imagine the young dragon trapper's parents (and their parent's crew) are skilled and pretty well respected dragon trappers/hunters that worked for/supplied dragons to Drago in the past, but since his defeat they've been kinda struggling to find a new employer(s) and have had to travel to unfamiliar areas to find unprotected wild dragons.

- That's how the young dragon trapper ends up in the situation™. She's out helping a small group of older and more experienced trappers with what sounded like an easy job, but due to them getting a bit too cocky on an unfamiliar island they end up getting ambushed by a powerful and territorial dragon. It goes about as well as you would expect it would and our young dragon trapper is certain she's about to die just like the others until! The chonk swoops in and scares off the other dragon!

- Existential crisis time because she just got saved by a dragon.

Other things:

- By "young" I mean around 19-20 or so and not like, a literal child - I imagine the chonk is also around the same age lol

- Also in my AU, while some dragon species are more comparable to parrots/cetaceans/etc., most species could be considered sapient in a human sort of way even if they don't necessarily have literal human-level intelligence in all areas. There's even a couple of species, such as Furies, that I imagine have actual human-level intelligence - they just don't act like humans since they're giant reptiles/reptile-like creatures and don't process the world in the exact same way as humans do and have evolved to have different instincts, etc.

- Soooo because of that I think the idea of occasionally having a chapter from the POV of the chonk would be fun. Even if it's only a chapter or two I could explore the idea of why she decided to save the human (could be really interesting I think, especially if the chonk knew/understood she was a dragon trapper/hunter and chose to save her anyway).

This is really long and I've been working on this post for hours and um yeah. Enjoy I guess?

(*Northern Night Furies are a fan species made by me, basically they're big chonky seal inspired Furies that live in very cold environments. They're usually very friendly and curious creatures.)

[slothquisitor]

There for the Taking

In which Liv has a crisis, and Astarion is kind of mean. Or what if your good character was just a tiny bit tempted by Astarion's suggestion you take over the cult? Thanks to TheWyvernRising (on AO3) for letting me borrow Rowan and also naming the fic. Titles are hard. Liv x Astarion, 4.6k, just angst.

Also on AO3.

______________________________________________________________

Blights and shambling mounds sharp as razors leap from the darkness. Here the shadows cut and slice. Despite her hypervigilance in this place, Liv is surprised all the same. She lobs a bolt of fire at the nearest blight, hoping that they might be vulnerable to fire damage. It explodes into flames and needles, and she feels as if she’s being stung by a hundred bees at once on every exposed bit of skin.

Astarion has used the distraction to try and get close, stepping around the back side of the shambling mound. He gets in two quick dagger strikes before the mound’s long, vine-like branches snap his way. The tendrils twist around his feet, pulling him down to the ground where the mound rips into him. 

His name catches in her throat as she uselessly screams his name. It had been a bad idea to come up this path. It had been her decision, and she had walked them right into an ambush. They’re looking for a house Halsin had seen, apparently surrounded by wildflowers in this bleak and desolate place. It might well be the key to breaking the curse on this land, but right now, she’s not sure why they’re bothering when everything here wants to kill them. 

And Astarion hasn’t moved. His pale skin is marred with gashes and scrapes, and he isn’t fucking moving. 

Karlach is trying to get to the mound while contending with two smaller blights, and Shadowheart is slowly making her way toward Astarion’s still unmoving form. Liv hurls another spell at the mound, determined to give Shadowheart a clear path. Liv had been trying to conserve her magic, but the fight is looking far more dire than she’s comfortable with. She isn’t about to lose any of her friends to fucking trees . 

She conjures a tiny mote of flame that snakes into the backfield and then explodes into a fireball. The outward in a burst of heat very nearly engulfs Karlach, her great axe slicing and splintering through a blight. A few more strategically fired scorching rays and swings from Karlach’s unrelenting axe, and the last of the cursed trees fall. Liv is breathing hard, her magic sputtering. Despite her best efforts to stay out of the fray, her arms and face are covered in small cuts from exploding needles, they sting as her sweat runs into them. 

Shadowheart’s spiritual guardians dissipate, leaving them in darkness once more. She’s kneeling at Astarion’s side, and Liv realizes with a certain degree of horror that his injuries are much worse than she thought. And it hurts . 

She knows what this is. What they are. She doesn’t get to cry out his name when collapses. She doesn’t get to have her heart squeezed vice-like while she watches Shadowheart’s healing magic pour into him. That’s not what this is. 

Shadowheart swears as a healing spell does nothing, and then looks up at Liv. “I need a scroll!”

Liv digs into her bag, drawing out one of their precious scrolls of revivify. They’ve only had to use these twice. Once when Lae’zel was knocked into a chasm by a minotaur in the Underdark, and another on Wyll after a thunder arrow knocked him into the lava of the Grymforge. They’re lucky to even have these scrolls, to have options to avoid the finality of death. But it doesn’t help her feel any less panic as she hands the scroll over with shaking hands. 

This sort of magic isn’t her forte. She can craft a fireball, mimic lightning, and throw up shields to protect herself, but she has no spells for moments like this. She cannot heal or ease anyone’s pain. She’s barely been able to craft them healing potions. All of her magic…her studying…what is it for if she can’t truly help people?

A moment later, filled with a burst of divine magic, Astarion’s eyes open. He’s alive. Well, as alive as he was before anyway. And the tightness that had settled in Liv’s chest loosens. She’s more than simply relieved; she’s grateful. She wants to yell at him about being too close to enemies, at his infuriating cockiness, and she wants to pull him into a hug, make sure that he is in fact alright.

She doesn’t do any of that. 

“That nearly ended me,” he says quietly. He’s inches from death’s door, his skin a collection of bruises and cuts, but he’s fine. He’ll be fine. 

“Only nearly,” Shadowheart replies with a small smile of triumph. 

They’re all looking a little worse for wear, and one glance up the path tells Liv that this is a dead end anyway. “This is certainly not the right way. Do we need to go back to Last Light?” Liv asks. 

“And risk another ambush?” Karlach asks, eyes darting about the darkness. 

“We should take an hour here, at the very least,” Shadowheart says, hands still hovering over Astarion’s wounds. Her magic glows a bright blue and the worst of his wounds stitch together. 

She doesn’t love the idea of waiting around here in the darkness or something else to find them, but Karlach has a point. They can at least light some torches and keep the worst shadows at bay for now. Around them there is nothing but the crumbled remains of what was once a tower, perhaps it was a lookout on this ruined battlefield. “Alright then, let’s take an hour.”

She busies herself setting up a perimeter of torches, but it’s not quite distracting her from the image of Astarion crumpled on the ground, all life gone from his eyes. It’s startling how precarious all of this feels, and how much she cares . There are many things from her past life she has tried to leave behind, but caring for those who wouldn’t give a second thought to her doesn’t seem to be one of them. It’s stupid, really. She’s at least ten years too old for this sort of behavior and far too clever for it besides. She knew what Astarion was when she met him in that clearing and she knew what he was offering. Looking for more is simply an exercise in heartbreak. 

And yet. Her foolish fucking heart wants anyway. 

She sits down against the base of the tower, as far away from Astarion and Shadowheart as she can manage and still be within the safety of the torchlight. She pulls out her spellbook and begins looking for anything she might have learned that she can prepare, something that might be more fucking useful.

It surprises her when Astarion shuffles over, cradling a health potion and still battered and bruised despite Shadowheart’s healing. She curses her stupid heart for racing when he sits down heavily beside her. 

“Well, I think I might have argued to stay in camp today if I’d known the trees were going to attack us,” he says. “Really, what is it with this godsforsaken place? It’s downright awful.”

“Really makes you miss dirty goblin camps, doesn’t it?”

“Shockingly, yes,” he replies, flashing her a slight grin before downing the healing potion with a grimace. 

And then he tips his head back, eyes falling closed as he tries to rest. She lets her gaze linger on him a moment longer, convincing herself that he is in fact safe. Then, she turns her attention back to her spellbook and tells herself that his presence beside her means nothing. Right?

***

Shadowheart’s healing magic had done good enough work in bringing Astarion back from death’s door, but there was something vaguely disquietening about having been dead. It’s a different sort of death than what he experienced when Cazador turned him. Still hurt like the hells though. He feels a disconcerting distance between himself and his own limbs as if he hasn’t quite settled back within his body. In some ways it’s kind of pleasant, to be floating above his body instead of trapped within it. It’s easier to pretend he’s somewhere else. 

And he does, for a while. Though Liv’s shifting and the quiet sound of her turning the pages of her spellbook occasionally pull him back. But even that is kind of nice. It’s…easy to be with Liv. It’s not like that with their other companions. Karlach and Gale make him tired. Wyll and Shadowheart are fun to trade words with, but even they feel like work. Lae’zel and Liv seem to be the only members of their little group who seem to value a comfortable silence. And Liv seems to always sense when he doesn’t want to talk, seems content to just be.  

Liv had looked…bothered when he’d come to. Her expression was schooled into something cool and impassive, but her eyes…her eyes were filled with worry. He thought for a moment she might fuss over him, express some outward concern for his safety the same way he’s sure she’d yelled his name when he fell, but instead, she’d simply stepped away. It had seemed almost forced. Even after tendays of traveling together, he’s not sure what’s going on in her head half the time. 

So perhaps that is why he presses forward, headlong into a conversation that might be best left alone. “So…Moonrise towers approaches…”

“Assuming we ever actually make it there, yes,” Liv replies, not looking up from her spellbook. 

“You know…I feel a connection with you. Like we’re two souls walking the same path,” he says. That gets her attention, gets her to look up from her spellbook. There’s something that looks perilously close to hope in her eyes. Something about it bothers him and he almost abandons the whole conversation. But there’s no time like the present, and he needs to know what it is she plans to do. “You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition .”

She frowns and whatever had brightened her eyes dims. “What do you mean naive?” 

He needs to be careful with this. Guide her to the conclusion he’s come to. Gently. “Just that you…have a big heart. You like doing what’s right. So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face to face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads.”

Her brow furrows. “The right thing to do would be destroy the cult and end its evil forever.”

Ugh. Really? She’s unwilling to let go of this ridiculous hero streak of hers. He rolls his eyes. “Gods. No…try to think outside the box. Just a little.” She’s clever, he’s begging her to consider the implications. “Consider the parasites in our skulls and think - how many others have the mind flayers infected? Hundreds? Thousands? And they’re not just goblin trash - there are powerful people in the worms’ thrall. And whoever’s waiting at Moonrise Towers controls it all. But if we can take that control from them, imagine the power we’d wield.”

“The power we’d wield? Are you…you’re being serious,” Liv says, words slowly rising in pitch. “What is it about me exactly that would lead you to believe I’d have any interest in that kind of power?”

She sounds almost hurt, offended, even. It surprises him, but he doesn’t stop pushing. If only to see just how far he can before her careful control breaks. “So much for hoping you had ambition. I’m just saying there’s an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil.”

“By making people our slaves? I thought you of all people would see the problem inherent in that.”

Anger flares in him, bright and fast and razor sharp. She doesn’t know anything . She’s never had to experience what it’s like to be powerless, to have no control over your own fate. If there is power on offer, and if there is a way for him to gain an advantage over Cazador he will fucking take it. “So much for thinking you had ambition. Isn’t that supposed to be the hubris of wizards? How utterly wasteful.”

She closes her spellbook with a snap, leaning far away from him. “This is clearly going to be surprising to you, but I don’t want power. Certainly not that kind.” Then she stands and brushes the dirt from her robes. 

“You don’t have to be so wet around the ears about it,” he laments. He knows that he’s hurting her feelings and probably jeopardizing whatever this thing between them is that he had fought so hard for, but he can’t seem to stop. He's always doing this, pushing her and watching for the point where her patience, her unyielding kindness finally breaks because he doesn't seem to know what else to do with these things she offers him. 

She stares at him for a moment and shakes her head. “You know, saving you from Cazador and liberating everyone with a worm in their head aren’t mutually exclusive.” And then she walks away without another word. 

He’s sure she believes what she’s saying. She’s fundamentally honest. Even when she’s convincing cultists that their group is friendly or persuading mad doctors to let their nurses slice them to ribbons, she’s not a liar…so he’s not sure why her comment gives him little comfort. The tadpole is the thing that’s set him free. It’s given him back his life and given him the advantage over Cazador. He’s no longer compelled, controlled, chained. And even after everything he’s told her, she would strip that protection away, make him a slave to Cazador’s whims once more. 

He doesn’t know how to tell her that her world is different from his. That cruelty has ruled his life for longer than she’s been alive. He knows what survival really takes.

She wants to help him. He knows that; he can sense it whenever he tells her about his life under Cazador’s thumb. But she doesn’t understand the power, the absolute control because she is too damn afraid of taking it herself. But what he can’t fathom is why….she grew up with power, in power. And yet…she seems so damn afraid of it. Their dream visitor offered her power too, and she absolutely refused it. Even Gale had at least been willing to hear their guardian out. 

He’s going to have to apologize for this whole conversation later when she’s not so upset and he can be convincingly contrite. A part of him rankles at the thought, at the memories it stirs up. But he’d had a plan, it wouldn’t do to ruin it all now. 

***

It’s late in Last Light, but Liv can’t stand to be in camp tonight. So instead, she sits at the bar by the fire, nursing a glass of…something. She’s not really sure what it is, the label was too faded to read, but it smells strong and tastes just sweet enough that she welcomes the burn with each sip. She’s not alone in the downstairs of the inn, though the other folks here are just as solitary as she is this evening. 

Almost everyone left in the bar area is mourning in some way, Harpers who lost friends on the road. Tieflings who were separated from friends and kin. Flaming Fist who feel they failed their Duke. 

Liv feels like an interloper. She’s not mourning anything except perhaps the future heartbreak that’s sure to crush her sooner rather than later. She can’t shake the conversation she had with Astarion earlier today. Would he take that sort of power for himself? Does he think she would? Is that what he really thinks of her? 

She’s been accused of being many things she doesn’t find particularly accurate over the years. Some have found her cold, too impassive, too unmoved by things. Others still have told her she is too passionate, too set in her ways and her belief in right and wrong. She’s not sure if the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Most days the only thing she feels she has in excess are feelings. She feels too much and too deeply, and simply ends up hurting too much of the time. 

She wishes that she didn’t want Astarion to be the person who knows her best. Especially when he’s so wrong about her, but then…there had been a moment. A small, small part of her was tempted. Just for a moment. It made her sick. 

Perhaps he did know her well enough to know she’d be tempted. Well enough to echo words she’s heard before: a lack of ambition, a bad wizard, what a waste. Fuck. 

“Mind if I join you?” asks a soft voice at her side, and Liv is startled from the downward spiral of her thoughts.

Liv recognizes the elven woman, Rowan. She’d been injured badly when the inn was attacked, and while she’s not a Harper, it’s clear Jaheira trusts her. She doesn’t really want company, but perhaps it can’t be worse than whatever one wizard pity party she’s been having for gods know how long. She summons a smile she doesn’t particularly feel. “Not at all.”

Rowan sits beside her, her long red hair falling like a curtain between them. She tucks it behind her ear and sighs. “You’re looking a little too long-faced to be the long-awaited hero here to save the day.”

Liv liked being the hero back in the Grove…before she realized how heavy the weight of expectation could land on one’s shoulders. Hope shone in the eyes of the tieflings from the Grove when she and her companions arrived here to Last Light, and she couldn’t help but meet that hope with promises and reassurances she’s not sure she can make good on. Even when she tempers expectations by promising nothing more than to look for friends and kin…it still feels dishonest. 

“Isobel is the real hero here. We couldn’t make it more than a few miles down the road today before being ambushed by shadow-cursed trees,” she says. She doesn’t mean for the words to twist bitterly in her mouth as she speaks, but they do anyway. 

Rowan watches her, amethyst eyes sharp. She doesn’t say anything for a long while. “Are you alright?” 

This is the one question that goes unasked amongst her companions. It’s been avoided for tendays now, ever since it became clear that they’re no longer in immediate danger of turning into mind flayers. The answer itself is fairly obvious for them all, who would be alright under these circumstances? And Liv is tempted to force a smile, to be a good little Vires. 

“No,” she whispers. There’s something freeing in the admission, given to this stranger. She doesn’t want to interrogate why it is so much easier to admit this to someone she hardly knows instead of her friends. Her eyes burn so she takes another sip of her drink, keeping her gaze focused on the far wall. 

She has a tadpole in her head and everyone wants her to save the day, and she is falling in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same. She and her friends are flung into danger every day and today she has nothing to show for it, but scrapes and bruises and new nightmares to haunt her. Halsin keeps looking at her like she can help him break the curse on this fucking land…and the heroes in the books she’s read never mentioned the fucking anxiety that comes with all these people relying upon them. She’s not cut out for this.

After all, Astarion had looked at her and said to himself that she’d want power, no matter the cost…and is there something buried in her soul by her fucking family that she can’t smother no matter what how she tries? Sometimes her last name feels like a stain she can’t wash out.

“Oh shit,” Rowan says, offering her a handkerchief and pouring more of whatever she’s drinking into her glass. “I was really trying to help, not make things markedly worse.”

It’s then that Liv realizes she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. It takes some effort, but she manages to slow her breathing down and get a hold of herself. Gods, she can’t remember the last time she cried, much less in front of someone else. “You’re very kind…I am so sorry. It’s just been…a bad day.”

Rowan nods, looking at her with concern. “Just…slow down. It’s alright.”

It’s not, but Liv is grateful for the assurance anyway. She can sit here and have a drink with a stranger and be perfectly normal. She’s sure of it. She takes a sip of her drink and nods. “You’re looking better than when I last saw you,” she attempts. 

Rowan snorts softly. “You mean when my insides were practically falling out of me?”

“Yeah…sorry.”

“Just lucky there are plenty of good and willing healers around,” Rowan says, and Liv doesn’t miss the way her gaze wanders to the door where Halsin sits vigil over the man who had somehow survived the Shadowfell. 

Isobel and Halsin and Shadowheart have magic that is actually useful; magic that actually helps people. “Very lucky,” she agrees.

“You know, at the risk of providing unsolicited advice…I often find that things look better in the morning. Nothing drains the hope out of a situation like being tired.” 

Liv nods. “You’re right.” She’s unlikely to find any answers at the bottom of this glass anyway.

“For what it’s worth, you’ve already done a lot for the people here. Don’t let whatever defeat found you today keep you down.”

Liv pushes up from the bar, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. “Thank you for the company.”

Rowan offers a smile. “Any time.” 

She wishes she had something more to offer than thanks. She worries over the interaction all the way back to her tent, as if admitting she’s not okay has opened up something, some vulnerability that everyone else will be able to see. It’s an old fear…and not very generous in the face of the kindness she received tonight. 

Their little encampment next to the inn is quiet, the fire has already burned down to the embers. She doesn’t want to see Astarion, but some part of her can’t resist glancing at his tent anyway. He’s not there. Which is just as well. She’s not sure what she’d say to him anyway. 

She glances up at the bright moon, at the shield Isobel keeps around this place, and tries to tell herself that all the hopes she carries aren’t misplaced. 

***

Astarion has spent a tedious hour hunting around Last Light for any creatures he can drink from. He’d managed to find a few small animals, and he tries to remind himself that he’s survived on far less and far worse, but it’s hard to remember because he’s hungry now . Besides, animal blood doesn’t hit quite the same now he’s had the blood of thinking creatures. 

But they’ve spent their days fighting shadows and trees and shadow-cursed zombies, and so he’s had to make due in other ways. He could ask Liv for blood; she’s been willing enough in the past, but there’s something about the fact they’ve slept together that changes everything about asking for her blood. He seduced her for safety, for security, asking for her blood in addition to that feels like taking far too much. 

He takes and he takes and he takes. Beyond the sketch she drew of him, he’s never taken anything from her that wasn’t already offered. And he’s not sure when it began to bother him, but it happened sometime between figuring out that the sadness in her eyes only truly disappears when she has something to offer someone and realizing that she never asks for a damn thing. He is well-versed enough in starvation to recognize it in another, but he can’t figure out what she could possibly be lacking. 

He sees her coming down from the inn towards their encampment. She’s pulling her long hair loose from the tight bun she keeps it in most days. She’s almost to her tent when he intercepts her, falling into step beside her. She jumps when she notices his presence. 

“Gods, don’t do that,” she says. “Where in the hells did you come from?”

“I was simply walking back to my tent. I can’t help that you’re unobservant.” He wants her to ask him where he’s been, so he can tell her about his less-than-successful hunt. Perhaps if she offers her blood it will feel less like taking. 

But she doesn’t. 

“Well, good night then,” she says without looking at him. He can smell the alcohol on her. She drinks little, so it is more than a little surprising. Warning bells are going off in his head. Something is wrong…off. Suddenly, this thing between them feels tremulous and fragile. 

“Are you upset with me?” he asks. Genuinely curious. She doesn’t seem the type to hold a grudge, but he’s been wrong about her before. 

She looks back at him, brow furrowed. “No, Astarion. I’m not upset with you.” The words are brittle things, but they don’t ring false. 

“A pity. I’ve been told I’m quite good at apologies,” pitching his voice down, filling it with dark promises. The sentiment isn’t true. He’s been told he’s good at groveling, and that’s not the same thing. But it’s a half-truth; it’s the only thing he seems to have to offer her.

She’s feeling distant, and something about that makes him want to grasp tighter to whatever this thing is he’s orchestrated between them. As if he could wrench back the simplicity, the surety he felt when he invited her to join him after the tiefling party. 

“I’m tired,” she says. It’s the truest thing she’s said so far, and it feels suddenly the most dangerous. 

She doesn’t want him. It’s the most freeing thing in the world, there’s a certain relief at her refusal, and yet some part of him is disappointed.

He doesn’t show it; instead, he smiles. “Well then, goodnight, my dear.”

She disappears into her tent without so much as a glance behind, and he is the one left there standing in the darkness, wondering what it was she actually needed this evening and why he couldn’t bring himself to ask. 

He had intended to twine himself so inextricably to her that the safety, the brightness, and the implicit trust she is afforded would fall easily on him too. And it has. The hope and expectations she was loaded up with the second she appeared at Last Light have followed him too. But it hasn’t filled up whatever lives inside him, whatever empty void is left of his heart. 

He’s startingly glad she turned down his company and simultaneously worried that he’s lost the only skill he’s ever had. He likes being in her presence, likes talking with her. She has an ability to listen when others talk in a way that makes him feel seen and heard. Who wouldn’t want her undivided attention when it feels like that?

And that’s all this is, isn’t it? An enjoyment of her attention. Nothing more. He tells himself that she’s getting just as much out of their little arrangement as he is, but even as he thinks it he’s not sure it’s true. 

Perhaps whatever has gone wrong today is simply a byproduct of their surroundings, of the general disquiet in this place. Perhaps tomorrow will be different, better. Perhaps she will keep offering him beautiful, impossible moments of comfort…and he will keep taking them. And perhaps it won’t bother him. 

[laidlays]

Tankdge

I honestly think they're the easiest class to play in FFXIV, but it's really funny to me that in a game full of bottoms none of them want to take lead the taid and take responsibility so you get these awkward 6 minutes standing around waiting for one of the tanks to pull. Anyways-

1. Paladin

This is perhaps one of my biases poking out again, but I think that Paladin is perhaps in its best state right now with its kit as a whole. It provides multiple utility options to help heal the party while at the same time providing a fairly good amount of damage all around. Even its rotation has been mathed out to play much smoother and, in my brain at least, makes sense and oils the gears well. When a Paladin plays well, you KNOW they're playing well with how often they are mitigating the party. It's not the strongest tank, but it offers so much that I would call it the pinnacle of tanks in FFXIV.

2. Warrior

Warrior is Unga bunga incarnate. I think all of its skills really sell Warrior as a tough, unrelenting brute force of a tank, it's game feel is honestly unparalleled. Fell Cleave remains one of my favorite skill animations in the game, and now it's been followed up by Warrior's new skill Primal Ruination. The mere fact that it makes your equipped weapon MUCH bigger for a giant explosion blow is unrivaled. Much of its kit remains largely the same and like every tank it also had and upgrade to one of its mitigation skills, but other than that it's still probably the strongest healing tank et al with Bloodwhetting and Nascent Flash. The only reason why it's in second place is just because Dawntrail Paladin exists, but I think it's a very close second nonetheless.

3. Gunbreaker

This is the COOL class, this is for all the FF8 fans and by golly did it show up swinging. I believe as of this writing it is the strongest tank in the game which only makes sense because of its 100 capstone ability that adds a really cool Dissidia-like combo to GNB. While I enjoy the double weaving combo now, I do have issues with its abilities drifting as I'm performing them as the Big Combo and Gnashing Fang combo take up a solid 20 seconds of time and if you miss one GCD things start to misalign and feel weird. Its mitigation also isnt anything to write home about either, but Heart of Corundum is a nice healing skill, Aurora is largely the same, and Superbolide is still very funny. Still very cool though!

4. Dark Knight

As much as I LOVE the lore of Dark Knight, it's aesthetics, it's skills, everything about it, it's kit has the most identity crisis I think I've seen of it yet since Shadowbringers. It's whole idea was that you had a small amount of mitigation tools and instead you brought nothing but yourself and damage as a tank to the party. But that was Shadowbringers, when the other tanks' mitigation wasn't as good as TBN. NOW they're all upgraded and even better as they bring healing to keep up with all the damage that's being put out. But Dark Knight doesn't have any proper healing abilities now, it just has the one upgraded skill, The Living Dead, and Abyssal Drain that isn't even used on single targets. Even worse, it's by far the WEAKEST Tank now as they removed Blood Weapon and didn't really give anything to compensate for it since most of Dark Knight's damage came from Edge of Shadow being weaved in. I think it's currently the most outdated class that needs to be looked at proper to regain some sort of identity outside of being Warrior 0.5.

[energysoda]

Breaking Bad Theory: How Walt Could've Gotten Away With It by Pretending to be Gay (Spoilers for the Entire Show)

Okay this has been on my mind for AWHILE. Since I was still watching season 5. Walter White could have potentially convinced (or at least given an alibi to) Hank that he wasn't Heisenberg by saying that he liked men. Particularly, Gale.

So, to set up the scene in Season 5 where Hank finds the Walt Whitman book and then connects all the dots to Walter. Walt goes and confronts him about the missing book, and Hank admits he figured out Walt is Heisenberg. Instead of going with it, Walt could have said this story:

He was bi. Or at least bicurious. Gale was one of his lovers. His whole life he had pushed down his attraction to men, but the cancer gave him a crisis because he believed that it was the end for him. So, thinking he was going to die soon, he started experimenting with this attraction with men. His whole "fugue state" was just another part of that crisis, he spent that time out of town talking to various different guys. Trying to figure himself out. This was always his reason for the two phones. And maybe he met Gale during his fugue state, or maybe it was a bit later. But either way, Walt could say they ended up getting involved.

He had absolutely no idea that Gale was involved in the meth business. He thought he was just a failed potential mind for science like himself. So when he found out that Gale was dead, and that they found those lab notes basically confessing to the crime-- he was shocked. It was hard to believe. He didn't say anything because he was ashamed of being gay. He was scared that Gale could have been shot as a hate crime, as well as if he told the truth that Hank would be homophobic to him: something he just couldn't handle since he was already experiencing so much in his life. He already lost a lover, he didn't want to lose his family too. Plus, it is already known that Walt has a huge ego and is extremely prideful, he could play into that if he thought to.

And the best part is, this would make a lot of sense. It would explain the fugue state, the second phone, his issues with Skyler-- Walt's weird behavior in general. Hank already thought he was having an affair, so why not go ahead and confirm it but with a twist Hank couldn't have expected? The time that Walt got drunk after Gale died could be explained as him grieving, and his saying that he didn't think Gale was Heisenberg could be explained off as denial that his lover could be the mastermind behind the Heisenberg case.

And Gale isn't exactly the text book example of a heterosexual man. Nah, he's gay as hell honestly. And that little note in his notes about W.W. being his shining star and perfect silence, could definitely be interpreted as a love note. And hey, the notes already had random stuff like doodles and brownie recipes so why not add other unrelated stuff like love notes in it?

His gift of the Walt Whitman book to Walter could also help support this. Walt Whitman was speculated to be homosexual or bisexual, particularly because of his poetry. Walter could totally explain the gift as a symbol of their relationship, especially with the note "to my other favorite W.W."

Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk, I guess it was never meant to be though since Walter White's stupid ass pride would never allow him to go with this. But it's interesting how well it would have worked, and honestly I do think Gale did have some sort of feelings for him. Tbh. Because that Walt Whitman thing and the love note and just Gale being Gale in general is very compelling evidence to me.

But yeah, I guess this is just another example of how if Walter's ego and pride got in the way, and how he could have made a lot smarter moves and would have been able to keep himself going if he wasn't so stupid about that pride. Another example of how ego destroys intelligence.

[ashpkat]

GOD. fuck it . just had a random tma-magisterium AU Thought and this post is dedicated to @usernamesarehard1 (i apologize for the tag) who said i was allowed to rant about my AU’s. this is hard to follow without TMA knowledge but like. also not. aaron blowing himself up in the unknowing or whatever ritual like tim did….. becoming a fusion Stranger-Lonely avatar…. or just straight up dying….. maybe call sort of brings him back as a End-Lonely avatar because i DID have him as a Dark/End avatar…. tamara falling into the six month coma like jon did and call visiting her in the hospital KNOWING that he will be the reason her final tethers to being human will be severed (because the last step in becoming a realized avatar is death and oliver banks touched jon with the End just like call is about to do….. for the greater good and some manipulation on joseph’s behalf…). OUUUFFFGH HIM GIVING HER HIS STATEMENT ON HOW HE BECAME AN AVATAR LIKE OLIVER DID. tamara coming back to the institute and seeing it ran by joseph because constantine is in prison…….. jasper blaming call for making tamara into some fear monster that sustains herself on statements…. call having to be pulled from the Lonely by aaron (it was just repayment after all, call had done the same for him) after isolating himself so deeply that even the LONELY wants a taste of him now because apparently the End and the Dark wasn’t enough…. all of them running off to scotland together……… and living happily ever after……. before tamara gets apologies for the deception’d by maugris/constantine and starts the apocalypse…..and they get split up because call gets drawn to his Dark domain…. and aaron has a crisis without him and almost slips into what should’ve been the Lonely but was just an extension of his own domain…. jasper being jasper in the apocalypse…….. celia and gwenda running the cult in the tunnels…. tamara murking maugris and becoming the pupil (don’t ask me who kills her so that the world is released from the Eye it’s too heart wrenching to think about.) (it’s aaron lol call couldn’t bring himself to do it) before all of them get sent to Somewhere Else

unrelated but kimiya is a section 31 officer after dealing with a case related to ravan (who was like the agnes montague of this universe) 🙌 that same case is what drove tamara to the institute btw LOL

[nostalgiachan]

Whizbangs!

Seventh Prompt: Shopping in Baldur's Gate

Act Three Spoilers

Summary: Vier needs fireworks, and there's only one shop she knows of that sells them. But are they on the up-and-up, or have they fallen back into bad habits? (1403 words)

---

Felogyr’s Fireworks: Now Under New Management!

Vier eyeballed the sign above the door warily. The last time she’d been there, the place had been stuffed to the gills with Banites who’d attempted to taint donations to the refugees with explosives, and clearing out the lot of them had been no easy feat. It still stuck in her craw a bit that she hadn’t been able to resolve the situation more peacefully; the last proprietor of this place, one Avery Sonshal, seemed to have been quite the lovely fellow before he became another of the infected. But with most of the Flaming Fist also being thralls to Enver Gortash, there was nothing else to be done - not without putting the refugees’ lives even further at risk. But who was this “new management,” she wondered. Had remnants of the Banites swooped in, this being one of the few of their hideouts that Vier and her compatriots hadn’t completely wiped from the face of Faerûn? Or had this place turned over a new leaf, some unrelated third party seeing some prime real estate with a legacy name and deciding to give its image a bit of rehabilitation?

Well, one way or another, Vier was heading in. After all, this was the only place she knew of that sold the sorts of fireworks she needed, and she hadn’t traveled a tenday-and-a-half from Dawnshire to Baldur’s Gate just to back out now. Karlach’s birthday party demanded no less.

The shop door jauntily jingled as it opened, and a chipper voice greeted Vier as she passed through. “Welcome to Felogyr’s!” the woman behind the counter chirped - a Deep Gnome, from the looks of her. “Makers of the finest fireworks in all Faerûn; if I’m lying, I’m dying! What’re you in the market for, Miss–?” As the shopkeeper gave Vier a once-over, her eyes went wide. “Oh, oh, I think I know you! Hero of Baldur’s Gate, yeah? Cor, who’da thought you’d show up in my shop, eh?”

Vier honestly hadn’t expected anyone would’ve remembered what she’d looked like, as many months as it had been since the whole crisis had calmed down, and especially not someone of whom she had no recollection. She hitched for a moment, not entirely certain what the woman’s angle was. “Yes, I suppose that’s me,” she finally managed to reply.

“Iffin I may, might I shake your hand?” the shopkeep asked, extending a calloused mitt to Vier, who somewhat hesitantly gripped it. “I’ve heard so much about you from ol’ Barcus - you’re the reason I even got this shop at all!”

“Barcus? As in ‘Wroot’?” Vier asked, and the shopkeep nodded enthusiastically.

“The very same! See, ever since the end of that whole kerfuffle with the squid wotsits, things have turned around quite mightily for the ol’ Ironhands. After we helped out with all that nasty fighting, Barcus had a little chat with Duke Ravengard, and he managed to get us un-exiled from the city! Things are still a smidge strained with the Gondians, but you know…least we ain’t trying to kill ‘em no more, yeah? Anyway, once we were allowed to set up shop in the city proper, I happened to find this little building just lying around - in pretty good shape, too, even after all the hubbub. Place was absolutely full o’ corpses, mind, which a little birdy told me might’ve been your doing. Sad business, that, but it is what it is. Which, now that I think on it, did nobody check in on this place ever? Anyway, anyway, I moved right in, gave it a good scrubbin’, and now I get to spend my days making whizbangs what’d make Gaerdal Ironhand herself crack a smile!”

Vier nearly jumped as the shopkeep slammed her hands gleefully down on the table. “But enough about me! Oh, by the way, name’s Jeminy Swill, lovely to meet’cha. But no, enough about me, I said! I reckon you’re in the market for things what go BOOM in the night, yeah?”

While Vier certainly appreciated Jeminy’s exuberant salesmanship, and she was more than glad to hear that Barcus and his cohort were thriving since she’d left the city, she was beginning to feel a bit exhausted just listening to all of that. “Ah, yes, I am,” she answered. “I’m looking to supply a birthday celebration, and I’ve got about…couple hundred gold or so to do it? What’s going to give me the most quality and quantity, you think?”

Jeminy playfully wagged a finger in Vier’s direction. “Oh-ho-ho, I think I know just the box o’ fun that I can put together for you,” she said with a throaty chuckle. “Gimme a moment, and I’ll be back with some proper goodies!” She hustled around the counter and up the stairs - no doubt the upper floors were still dedicated to the blackpowder craft. For a moment, Vier wondered why they didn’t use the basement as their manufactory instead; she’d quite handily proven months ago that working with highly flammable material high up in a largely wooden building was incredibly dangerous for all involved. Was the basement not aerated enough?

As she idly mused, the shop door jingled once more, and a hooded figure quickly scurried inside, right on time.

“Oh, good, you’re alright,” Vier spoke quietly as she turned to face her companion. “Find anything?”

“Fireworks, fireworks, and more fireworks,” the voice of Astarion poured out from beneath the hood, sounding almost disappointed. “Nothing incriminating in the basement, and no conveniently placed documents suggesting Banite connections upstairs. So far as I can tell, this place is back to being a perfectly innocent haven for pyromaniacs.”

Vier breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly snuck in a kiss when she had the chance. “Thank you for the help, dear. Are you sure you’ll be alright to get the drinks? You aren’t going to get stuck in a brightly lit lane out there?”

“How quickly we forget how long I’ve prowled these streets,” Astarion tutted. “I may be living the country life now, but the alleys and sewers of Baldur’s Gate are practically engraved on the backs of my eyelids. I’ll be there and back before you know it.”

With a second quick kiss, Astarion was off on his next quest, leaving Vier to wait for Jeminy’s return. It wasn’t long before the Deep Gnome was bounding back down the stairs, two solidly built dwarves in tow with a hefty crate carried between them. They deposited their payload before Vier.

“Behold, Felogyr’s Fabulous Festive-box,” Jeminy cheered as she removed the lid of the crate with a showman’s flair. “Not sure I’ll stick with that name, but it’s a work in progress. Anyway, this here is a mixture of just about every sort of whizbang we’ve got, from tiny crackers to giant firewheels, handhelds to massive rockets. Every color, every size, explosions, no explosions, it’s all right here! Let me give you a tour of some of my favorites here.” Patiently, Vier listened as Jeminy detailed a selection of fireworks - what color explosion they’d produce, how big and what shape the explosion would be, how loud they screamed as they soared through the sky. Normally, Vier might have been a bit impatient, but now that her concerns about the management had been thoroughly put to rest, she supposed she had nothing on her hands but time. 

With each new, incredibly thorough description, she pictured the night of Karlach’s party. As soon as that portal to the First Layer opened, and Karlach and Wyll stepped foot on Faerûn once more, a feast of Dawnshire’s finest fare would await them, mugs and goblets overflowing with the best booze she could afford. There’d be music, merriment, and overtop of it all, the sky would glitter with rainbow fire. Any day that those two got to return to the mortal world was cause for celebration, but Vier wanted to make sure with this party that Karlach knew she was loved; that Vier, Astarion (though you’d have to put him in thumbscrews before he’d say it to her directly), and the rest of their compatriots were happy that she was born; and that one day soon, she’d be back on Toril for good and they’d all party even harder.

Vier snapped back to attention just as Jeminy had finished her patter. “So, what do you say? Sound enticing?”

“Absolutely,” Vier replied, “I’ll take the whole lot.”

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I am gonna talk about the izcourse one more time today, but the villain of this post is not the Izzy stans nor Izzy himself. It's the anon. So this does not actually count towards breaking the promise I made this morning about taking a break for a couple days.

I know we occasionally poke this fucker by grading their anons or whatever and I know the Izzy Stan's are presumably having the time of their lives considering that he's not blocked yet on that side of Tumblr, but I'm gonna say something pretty uncomfortable for all of us alike. This anon sucks, they're racist and ableist and probably some other ists that they just haven't gone mask off about yet. They are suicide bating and they are waging a harassment campeign, but the fact that they're in the inboxes of literally everyone proves that this is not an ideological thing. It's just about making other people, and probably themselves, miserable.

We are baring witness to someone else's months long mental breakdown. I think it's one person because they say the same things over and over again in the same type face. If that is the case they're probably unemployed or young enough to not need a job yet given how much time to post they have, although one of my many sometimes nemeses on this sight has suggested they're in their thirties and they didn't dispute it. they're cyber stalking an ungodly number of blogs. And there's something going on with them that makes it such that their chosen pass time is sending Anon hate. What I'm saying is that if I had to guess how the Anon is doing I'd say this person is probably the farthest thing from mentally well that I've personally interacted with, and I'm a head case who works in a field where I occasionally have to assist in a mental health crisis. (I'm a head case and that is my job those two things are unrelated)

I'm not saying any of this to get you to go "oh poor Anon". They are still the villain of this post. Nor am I saying it to justify the harassment. I'm saying it because it should sort of change how we interact with them. I'm being very frank about what's going on here. Another uncomfortable thing about this whole situation is that this person is beyond any of our help. They are semi anonymous and even if they weren't you kind of have to know a person irl to get that sort of help for them. The best way to deal with this situation is in fact to freeze them out. I tried reason. Many others have tried dunking. None of it is working. After a certain point this may be a sort of mutualistic digital self harm for some people. (I goad you into saying hurtful things about me, I say hurtful things about you, we continue making each other feel like shit forever) we really do have to be the ones to cut them off. Their only goal is misery. Don't let them make you miserable.

I don't usually make a call for someone to be the bigger person, because I like to get down and dirty. But this is different. It's not about the show or the fandom. It's about a vortex of suffering that we're only making worse by getting sucked into. That's not a moral judgement on anyone who has interacted in good faith or bad with this anon. It's practical. Block, maybe look up what reporting an anonymous message does and if it does anything lmk if you feel so inclined. I'm not telling you to take it lying down, but we've all gotten our shots in at this point there's no point in dragging it out unless you're trying to maintain the image of being persecuted, which is not worth the suffering it causes on your end.

[sycamorality]

talk about eclipse. send it

ahah. uhm. under cut. void knows ill go on for like 2 paragraphs

first of all, her ref:

incomprehensible jargon of notes probably i wrote these for myself. anyway. she's an ancient --- sort of? she's. definently more creature than ancient. she's a bioengineer, programmer, engineer and pupept designer! though her official designation of sorts of programmer. bioengineering shenanigans lead up to her being more creature. and totally not lore related. but i'd rather not put that on a public tumblr post because i haven't revealed it in rp yet lmao

18 wings! why? why not! they're actually used for communicating via broadcasts - the feathers can send short-distance signals via specific gestures that her communications panel responds to. she had to change/recalibrate it a Lot when she lost her right primary wing and it still took some time to get used to. she didn't always have 18 wings either, it was just her primary wings until much later. oh and, actually, here's an rp snippet from when she lost that wing:

my writing is lackluster but oh well. spears is not my character! he belongs to @/prismsoup. she then proceeded to have an existential crisis on the global line because she fears death more than anything (mind you this is post-mass ascension and pre-spearmaster). her left wing was lost in a void fluid accident - one of her superiors tried to force ascend her by throwing her in a vat of void fluid and that kind of. went Very wrong for him because he got echoed (suck that limit upon a silent vigil) and eclipse got out of that with only a burned wing! that never regrew. so now the iridescence on it looks like fire reflected through shattered glass - and sometimes, in the right lighting, like echo scales. meanwhile the iridscence on her other wings is much more gentle - appearing almost completely golden with a hint of many other colors under the light of a sunrise.

she has many scars - all of them are from her superior. he did Not like her for a Multitude of reasons and she flinches ayntime someone raises anything sharp at her and refuses to use anything but a spear because of it. this brings me to another part - she has a direct response that was coded in to her genome that, when shocked under distress, it will render her unable to speak and express any emotion because that sure is a way to get someone to listen to you huh. anyway the scar on her chest - as pointed out in the notes - never healed and will bleed if under stress. she's not vibing very well actually. not okay. she has The Horrors. many of them.

she much rather prefers to walk like a quadruped - though she can walk on two legs and four. she is some sort of [Weird Cat] and i love her for it. even her own wing bioluminescence and iridescence distracts her! she has an awful attention span but will focus intensly if you ask her about bioengineering or programming and will do her best not to ramble on for too long unless explicitly told that she can go on for as long as she wants to. she's very expressive! she can and will exaggerate her body language and flash her wings about for the sake of it.

misc notes:

she represses her emotions! woo! she's. very good at it. which is Bad

she's the programmer, engineer and puppet designer of my dude whispers of silver and appointed his slugcat (broadcast slugcat) senior for the sake of it. it was funny. and why not

she chitters, chirps and purrs. literally. she can speak but why speak when you can just mrrrrrp

her feather streamers move about whenever she's expression emotion

she hunted vultures for sport and liked carving their masks to trade them. despite this the local scavenger tribe hates her guts

she's never lived on an iterator superstructure! like, ever! this means that yea she hunted things for survival. she did however visit silver a lot and vibed in his chamber. they were very close.

unrelated to her canon at all btw but like in the silly rp she's go ther scars healed and is absolutely vibing being a weird cat. though uh maybe she's gonna yell at spears. maybe. (she totally is)