#cause i feel like i've been stagnant for a while

[purble-gaymer]

burger-sized and all that

[ghoulphile]

run rabbit run | c.h/the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 869 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, mildly dubious consent (kinda?), dom!coop, bareback, cum play, degradation kink, biting, pet names (bunny), man-handling, doggystyle, drabble, coop's gotta fuck you full so the ferals can't smell you ➥ summary | "the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time" ➥ notes | do not look @ me rn 🫣 i feel like i've exposed myself too much lol masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

He found the rabbit among endless dunes of rock and rubble; a frightened, jumpy little beast that required a firm hand to tame, and an even steadier one to control.

And while it would’ve been easier to dump ‘em at Super Duper Mart -- get his caps worth, pounds of flesh for vials of chem -- he took a shine. Now, what exactly it is about you that captured his attention so thoroughly, he can’t be sure (though he could hazard a few guesses).

What he does know is this: if it wasn’t for him, you’d have been killed a million times over by raiders, fiends, and ferals alike. Always finding your way into trouble as soon as his back is turned.

Like now.

So if he’s a little rough with you, it’s only because he had to haul ass half-way across the flooded district when he heard you scream.

Nevermind the hard lurch of his heart, the sensation of his stomach droppin’ to his feet. You were supposed to be safe, holed up in the building he cleared yesterday.

Surprise, surprise; you decided to go poking where you shouldn’t, and now he’s gotta rescue your dumb ass. Skidded around a bombed out building only to find you fighting off a small pack of ferals, their rotted hands scratching at your arms and their teeth gnashing at your face.

Goddamn it.

Same shit, different day.

“What did I fuckin’ say?” he snarls, chapped lips pressed tight against your ear as sharp hip bones rut into the softness of your ass. “You’re dumber than shit sometimes.”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - hhahh, slow down - didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Your hands scramble for purchase, nail beds aching from how hard you’re digging at the dirt.

Shoved onto the ground, pants sagging around your thighs as a stray rock digs into your cheek, scraping up the tender skin. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”

The Ghoul snorts, delivers a stinging nip to the tip of your ear. Your reedy whine soothes some of the agitation but he’s still bristling, aggression threaded through with tendrils of panic he refuses to acknowledge.

“I highly doubt that.”

You hiccup, knees spreading wide as your back dips - trying to get away, to get closer.

The fat head of his cock keeps hitting your cervix with every stroke, little fissions of pain kissed pleasure racketing up your spine as he stretches you past your limits and fucks you open.

Your gummy walls swollen and raw from the constant friction of his shaft, the rad burns scraping your insides up. Clit aching and so wet you’re dripping, a damp patch of earth beneath you.

“No, promise I’ll be good!” You pant, the scent of sunbaked soil and stagnant water heavy in your nose. “Please, please, please.”

Everything aches, limbs sore from your tussle and pride bruised as sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.

A hand clamps down on your hip so hard bones grind, yanking you back into every punishing thrust. Heavy balls smack against your clit on the in-stroke, stoking the embers of your desire. Your toes curl in your boots.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, bunny.” The Ghoul grabs your elbow with his free hand, tugging you up into his chest so his chin hooks over your shoulder, breath puffing along the side of your cheek. “You just don’ know when ta learn. So I’m gonna have’ta teach you. An’ I’ll do it as many times as it takes, you hear?”

You sniffle, nuzzling the back of your head against his face. “I mean it,” you say. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know there’d be any ferals around. Was just trying to find some more food.”

Groaning, his hips kick forward in a softer grind, still so deep you feel him in your stomach - pussy filled to the brim with cock - but not as harsh as before. As close as you’ll get to an apology until he’s done.

“This is your fault - you got ‘em all riled. Now, we gotta make you smell like me so take your punishment like a good bunny 'fore I decide ta eat you instead.”

And you do, letting him rut into you until he’s satisfied, aching and so swollen by the end of it that he has to bully his way in with every thrust, your pussy clamping down and milking him for all he’s worth.

When he finally does pump you full, you’re dumb and dripping. Limp limbed and sagging into the ground - only held up by the cage of his arms. Thighs shaking and clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat as he wrings every last bit of pleasure out of you.

“Sometimes,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch as his cum oozes out of you in a sticky rush, dripping down your folds, “I think dumb bunnies like you are only good fer one thing.”

You whine when his thumb whispers over your clit, caressing your folds as he gathers up his spend. Gently fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. 

“But that’s all right, I like ‘em a lil dumb.”

[lonniemachin]

JEWELRY RAFFLE FOR PALESTINIAN SURVIVAL AID -- EXTENDED

Due to a lack of entries, a need to get this jewelry off my hands, and these 3 fundraisers' need to reach their goals ASAP, I've decided to extend my authentic crystal jewelry raffle for another month, or until I feel I have enough entries to do the raffle properly.

A local artisan was kind enough to provide me with 8 pieces of authentic crystal jewelry to offer for donation funds supporting three different campaigns for Palestinian families looking to evacuate Gaza or in need of survival aid while in Gaza.

These families are:

Ahmed and Maram’s family (in Euro)

Mohammed Shamia’s family (in Swedish kroner)

Marah Atallah’s family (in USD)

All families are 100% legitimate — I have been in contact with Maram and Ahmed for months, who have provided me multiple pictures, videos, and recordings of their situation. They have been featured in a video by YouTuber Ro Ramdin and have been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein. I am also in consistent contact with their beneficiary through a group chat who updates us on the movement of all money.

Mohammed’s family has multiple pictures and videos of their situation on family member Ahmad’s Twitter/X account proving their legitimacy. I have personally communicated with Ahmad and his history online stretches back far before 10/7. His campaign has been SEVERELY stagnant, often going 20+ days before receiving a donation. He is trying to raise enough to evacuate his sister and her two children. He has had 2 donations in 29 DAYS!

I personally connected Marah to the one managing her campaign, who is a friend of mine. Marah is also friends in-person with other verified families over on Twitter/X, where she posts pictures and videos of she and her family’s situation. They use all money raised to survive displacement in Gaza and to save up enough to register for evacuation when the time is right. Marah’s campaign has been shared by @/90-ghost.

Donate an amount of $5/€5/kr50 SEK or more in multiples of 5, DM me proof of your donation, and tell me which piece you are interested in (send the number and letter listed next to the description of the piece). I will enter your name into a raffle for the piece you would like. One donation of 5/kr50 SEK = one entry, 10/kr100 SEK = 2 entries, and so on. At the end of the raffle, I will randomly choose one recipient per piece, contact said recipient for details, and mail the piece to you.

From left to right: A pair of Rutilated Quartz earrings valued $20 (E1), a pair of Kunzite earrings valued $18 (E2), and a pair of multi tourmaline earrings valued $20 (E3).

From left to right: A labradorite, aura quartz, clear aura crackle quartz, and sea sediment jasper bracelet valued $30 (B1), and a chrysocolla, morganite, phosphosiderite, and yellow opal bracelet valued $30 (B2).

From left to right: A clear quartz necklace valued $30 (N1), a red tiger’s eye necklace valued $30 (N2), and a flower agate, rose quartz, lepidolite, strawberry quartz, and clear quartz necklace valued $32 (N3).

If you can’t participate, that’s okay! Please share this post so that others may see and enter to win some beautiful jewelry for the most important cause — saving lives.

Tagging for reach under the cut

@wayneradiotv @killy @kahin @tododeku-or-bust @wellwaterhysteria

@kibumkim @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis 

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillain

@aristotels @komsomolka @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts  @ot3 @brutaliakhoa

@amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @deepspaceboytoy 

@mazzikah @mahoushojoe @ana-bananya @rhubarbspring @pcktknife

@3amsnow @orange-coloredsky @ehjane @dogesterone @specialmouse

@smalldumbpigeon @sakeeeee @bhavna-does-stuff @hal-your-pal @nevermore-was-here 

@pronouncingitwang @sloppystyle @saltycharacters @cloudofdarkness @dirhwangdaseul

@boudicca @soul-hammer @mxwhore @desire-mona @batmanego

@magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @turian @determinate-negation @sylvianritual @neptunerings

[velvette-creations]

To be loved by death

Interview with the Vampire: Santiago x fem!reader 

Rating: Explicit 

WC: 1.5 k 

Prompt: “That’s an awful lot of blood” for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Heavy on the blood play, stalking, oral (f receiving), manipulation, mind control, biting, thigh riding

Summary: You become Santiago's prey

A/n: Ben Daniels as Santiago has a hold on me. First time diving into writing for this fandom that I've loved for so long

A sense of dread crept up your spine as you took the last sip of your coffee at the quaint cafe on the corner. Your eyes darted around, but nothing suspicious lingered in your view. You placed the cup back on the saucer, the ceramic clinking together as you stood and left the money on the table. You hurried across the cobblestones, feeling like someone or something was following you. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, but it felt like danger loomed in the distance, concealed in the shadows of night. 

Your pulse pounded in your throat. Heady and unstable. The pavement slapped beneath your worn leather shoes, the pointed heels scraping against the grooves. One unsteady movement caused your downfall and sent you spilling across the ground. Your palms scraped against the concrete as the rough surface tore through your stockings and resulted in skinned knees. Tears of humiliation burned your eyes as you swallowed down the pain. You were thankful this pathway through the park was abandoned this time of night; otherwise, you would have curled into a ball of shame.

“My, my, you took quite the spill.”

You lifted your head at the sound of the voice, shaking the loose curls out of your face as you peered around, your heart racing with anticipation. It was quite odd because it sounded like the voice surrounded all sides of you, echoing through the stagnant night air.  You gasped as a man appeared in front of you. Older with coiffed white hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that were not of this world, and something about them made you shiver. The black cape he wore surrounded him ominously as it billowed around his legs.

“What were you running from, ma chérie? Was a wolf chasing after the little lamb?”

You scooted away from him, your palms leaving a trail of blood along the cold ground, frowning as he taunted you. How dare he? He didn’t know you and had no right to be so condescending. If you were in a better mindset, you would have slapped him across the face for his brazenness.

“What’s wrong, chérie? Cat got your tongue.” A smirk crossed his face as he loomed over you. He was taunting you, and it made your blood boil.

“You are rude, monsieur,” you frowned, finally finding your voice while you slowly stood as pain surged through your body. You felt wobbly and lightheaded from the sight of your blood smeared against the concrete—a crimson gash reminding you of your folly.

“I have been told worse,” he chuckled. His demeanor shifted as he followed your gaze to the ruby blood sparkling in the dim light of the lamppost illuminating the park. “That is a lot of blood, chérie.” 

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern,” you murmured, pushing your stinging palms together and cursing yourself for not wearing your evening gloves.

He tutted gently, stepping forward with intricate grace, and instinctively, you wanted to run. A cold dread set over you. Had he been the one you were running from? The looming dread from the shadows, the breath on the back of your neck, the mysterious figure who had set you on edge that sent you sprinting through the park toward the safety of your apartment. This feeling had followed you for a week; perhaps now, the answer stood before you.

“Of course I care, ma chérie,” he chided, stepping closer and drawing your hands into his. His long nails reminded you of spun glass. You stood frozen, fixated on his unnatural, spectral blue eyes as he lifted your palms to his mouth. His warm pink tongue rolled from his lips as he lapped at the tiny droplets of blood that clung to your scraped flesh. A scream felt caught in your throat, yet you were paralyzed. Pointed fangs extended from his mouth, dragging across your wounded flesh and splitting it wider. He reminded you of a cat enjoying their dish of cream.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice faint and cracked.

“The sweet essence of fresh youth,” he sighed happily, your blood splashed around his mouth, “You are going to be quite the treat, ma chérie.”

You trembled like a lamb caught in the wolf’s jowls.

~~

You waited in your apartment every evening at the same time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months progressed and still, he kept the same schedule. The night ticked away, and the city of Paris was still alive as people enjoyed the treasures offered in the seclusion of darkness. As if on cue, you rose onto your bare feet and padded onto your balcony. The gentle breeze wafted through your loose hair as the hem of your black dress tickled your calves. You were mesmerized every night as he floated above the dimly lit streets and toward your balcony. Santiago. You were his dark bride, offering your flesh and blood to satiate his voracious appetite.

You gazed up as his hand cupped your chin and pondered how easily those long glass nails could puncture your skin. His lips were cold as ice as they pressed against yours. Warmth spread through you as blood bubbled to the surface, spilling down the corners of your mouth as he laid the first mark of the evening. Wordlessly, he took your hand, guiding you into the privacy of your apartment as the doors closed behind you. You moved as if under a laden spell as your fingers unbuttoned your dress, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you in silky undergarments. Ones you had scrimped and saved for, savoring the delicate fabric as it slipped through your fingers.

Santiago stepped closer, using his claws to tear them to shreds until you stood naked before him. Not a single tear dribbled from your eyes at the loss of the treasured garments. You moved in a daze, slowly dancing in place to an invisible tune as he removed his cape, leaving him in dark trousers, a white undershirt, and suspenders. His piercing blue eyes remained fixed on you as you continued your silent dance before he pulled a chair into the center of the room. You straddled his thigh before skimming your hands over his muscled arms, marveling at how an older man kept in such shape. You supposed there were many mysteries about him that you would never uncover.

His mouth grazed over your neck, leaving the flesh pure and unmarked until he reached one of your breasts. His tongue rolled over your nipple until it stiffened under his touch. The sharp pain made you gasp and rock against his thigh as your blood oozed into his welcoming mouth. It was intoxicating; the pain was quickly replaced by euphoria. Lust unraveled through your body as Santiago continued to claim your flesh, savoring each drop of warm, delicious blood. Your arms circled his neck, one palm pressing against the back of his head to hold him closer.

Moving gracefully and quickly, he lifted you into his arms and placed you on the bed. He kissed his way down your belly, leaving a light trail of your blood over your quivering flesh until he lay between your splayed thighs. Pain and pleasure blurred together as he feasted on your thighs while his tongue claimed your slick cunt. Blood and arousal intermixed and clung to your flushed skin as your fingers buried in his white hair. The sweet release rolled through your body like waves crashing through the ocean. You knew he savored the blood more.

“Sleep, ma chérie. My sweet little lamb. I will return to you tomorrow night,” he whispered as his fingers gently slipped against the tender skin of your eyelids and closed them. A deep slumber grasped your body, pulling you under the swirling darkness of dreams.

Santiago tucked the blanket around your body, a few sparkling, wet, ruby droplets clinging to your glowing skin as the rest dried into a vexing crust. The next day, you would indulge in a hot bath and scrub yourself clean. He lingered for a moment, watching your chest heave with your shallow breaths, hot blood pumping through your veins—an intoxicating ichor that called to him. How selfish it would be to drain you and deny him such a treat.

“What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?” The words rolled from his tongue, ever the skilled orator and performing, falling onto deaf ears before he disappeared into the black night. You were left to your dreams.

You dreamt of your malcontent Santiago, giving your being over to him as his fangs and claws ripped apart your flesh. Consuming you until you were nothing as blood dripped from him. The wolf feasted upon the lamb. To be loved by death. To be wrapped in it’s tender embrace. What divine bliss. 

The next evening, Santiago did not arrive at your door, but instead, a courier who delivered a card and a wrapped box. Nestled inside the box, between layers of white tissue paper, lay a set of silky undergarments to replace the ones ruined the previous night. Inside the white envelope was an invitation to the Théâtre des Vampires on an evening of your choosing.

Join me, ma chérie. Perhaps you will welcome the dark gift. 

Your thumb traced over the elegant cursive of his signature. Answers awaited you. Time to let death embrace you.

[mary-laib]

OKAY WRITING ABOUT JWCT SHIPS TIME:

Sammy x Yasmina

10/10

I love their relationship and how they have come so far throughout cc and ct. Also less to do with the ship but I especially loved how Yasmina was shown in ct to have worked towards facing her fears and has gotten so much further than Sammy, who has been ignoring her problems. There's like nothing to hate about this ship. Everyone agrees they're perfect.

Kenji x Brooklyn

3/10

I've been waiting for them to break up since they got together. She was great for him in the beginning of their relationship, helping him become his own person and becoming less egotistical, but she has refused to change with him, which has made their relationship stagnant. I thing their relationship was good for Kenji and I'm glad they got together if only so that she could help him figure out how to be his own man, but past that, their relationship was pointless and I hope it never gets rejuvenated.

Ben x Darius

8/10

I love them as bros and honestly, despite their obvious closeness and the fact that I would like to see more of their interactions, I see them as more platonic, especially with what Darius said about his crush on Brooklyn. Not because of him liking Brooklyn or girls in general and you'll see why in a minute. But I also wouldn't be mad to see them get together. They're both nerds and I love them.

Darius x Brooklyn

2/10

Honestly, I feel like the same things that caused a rift in Brooklyn's relationship with Kenji would also tear apart her relationship with Darius. And it's stated in the show that it's unrequited. They're good friends, but while he'd probably rate her as his top friend and vice versa, I feel like we can collectively agree that there are other friendships he has that are less toxic. Also the love triangle thing feels so weird when the girl cares less about both the guys combined than either one feels about her.

Darius x Nobody

9/10 The dots have been connected

Now hear me out: I don't feel like his crush has ruined things between him and Ben or Kenji, but some things about what he said regarding his crush and his reactions have made me feel like he is very aroace coded. Which has put a lot of things in perspective for me. Since the beginning of cc, he's been a "power of friendship" guy and rewatching his interactions with everyone, they seem a lot stronger and meaningful as just platonic, rather than romantic. And while everyone around him has been dealing with romance, he's just kind of indifferent to it all until Brooklyn. And his reaction to his crush on Brooklyn just screams repressed aroace with him saying that he never thought he could feel like that (has he never had a crush on anybody before) and how he has completely panicked regarding their relationship. Idk to me, it's giving aroace with a "fake" crush or demi aroace person who has taken way too long to fall for a girl that anybody else would have fallen for after the original bout of mortal danger. He had to be friends with her for YEARS before he could catch a semblance of a crush on her. And it also sounds to me like she was pretty absent in his life before popping in to stay with him for a week, which could also explain why he might he having a "fake" crush (if that is what it is). ALSO: when I say "fake" crush, I'm not trying to downplay his feelings, I'm just referring to something a lot of aroace people experience where you get really close to someone and mistake those feelings for love. And when it happens, these feelings are very intense(speaking from experience). Like how if he's suddenly frequently interacting with Brooklyn again and it's just them, I feel like that kind of situation could lead to an aroace crush. It's all just giving aroace person experiencing their first crush in the most traumatic way possible.

Brooklyn x Nobody

10/10 We love to see a gal feeling herself

I feel like at this point in the story, she has nothing to gain or give by being in a relationship with anybody in the show. Her and Kenji had a decent run while they had it, but it's time to let go at this point. If she does end up with someone, it has to be someone outside the main cast and personally, I'd like to see her with a gal pal. She has bi energy, especially with the new haircut.

Kenji x Darius

7/10

Honestly, I definitely shipped them mid-cc, but at the beginning of ct, I decided I did not want to see them get together. But by the end, I kind of changed my mind. I still think their relationship would be best platonic, but I also wouldn't be mad if they got together. It'd probably be a bit stranger than if Darius was with Ben, but they've also got a strong connection.

Ben x Kenji

0/10

I feel like they've hardly gotten any relationship building in either cc or ct and it needs to happen pronto. There has to be something they can bond over

Sammy x Yasmina and Ben

10/10

I'd like to see the lesbians in a qpr with their hypeman. Ben is just so cute with them and he loves them so much (platonically) and vice versa. It doesn't need to be anything official, but just more of Ben being their third wheel/adopted son would make the show more perfect than it already is.

Ben x His European GF

2/10

I think she's fake, either that he's lying about her so he doesn't lose street cred or that she is lying to him and is a catfish. Maybe we'll see a plot twist relating to the gf, but I'm not holding out hope. She could be redeemed if she was a real girl who was a total kickass and saved the whole group (maybe they meet her at the end of their stowaway boat mission) but otherwise I don't really care about her. Also don't lose hope, people who hc him as gay or aro, there's always the chance that he's bi, lying, or having a "fake" crush like Darius. I know I, as an aroace person have had more online than irl relationships and I'm p sure that's a sign of not being allo, especially when the person you're dating is far away and you have no plans of ever seeing them irl.

Anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[prettyinpwn]

Tough question here: A few people in the fandom drew parallels between Dipper getting the apprenticeship and Ford being offered at West Coast Tech. Some would argue that since it was wrong for Dipper to accept the apprenticeship, did that mean Ford was also in the wrong for wanting that WCT offer? Feel free to note other differences between the two cases.

Ooo, this is a tough one, you're right. I think I'll fall back on the old character thesis of Gravity Falls that I've mentioned in other posts: the show argues, agree with it or not, that a Pines twin alone is worse off than a Pines twin with their respective twin working alongside them, since they make up for each other's flaws. That, and the other thesis that the best way to live life isn't to leave everything behind at rocket speed nor to hold onto the past so hard it makes you stagnant, but to find a good balance between the two.

But even with those theses in mind, I don't think either Dipper or Ford are wrong for wanting the apprenticeship/college experience. I think the issue was more with the lack of compromise each choice offered their twin. I wish the show had explored compromises more, like say Mabel moves with Dipper to Gravity Falls, or Dipper and Mabel move back to California but Dipper apprentices in the summers.

Or maybe with Ford and Stan, they could have worked out moving to the town West Coast Tech is in together and split rent, Stan working while Ford went to school, and then either moved to Gravity Falls together or did the whole Stan-O-War II thing afterwards using the money Stan would have saved up plus Ford's grants. And maybe they could have come to that compromise if they'd worked it out, but instead... oops, Stan breaks the perpetual motion machine and Filbrick throws him out and all that sad business.

But the show needed conflict so they couldn't really make it an easy fix; without Stan and Ford's rift, there is no Gravity Falls. Their brotherhood and argument is literally the backbone of the entire plot and the inciting incident. So... no compromise, because conflict was needed. And honestly, it's true to life; sometimes the greatest rifts can be healed with a simple chat and compromise and apology, but people hold onto anger and grudges and ego for so long that it causes decades of pain that could have been avoided.

tl;dr: Neither Dipper or Ford were wrong for wanting what they wanted, but they're a lot better off with their twin at their side. Ford's arc is a tale of a Pines twin alone AKA misery and mistakes, and Dipper's arc is a tale of a Pines twin who avoided the mistakes and pain of Ford's story because he stuck with his twin and chose forgiveness and sacrifice and compromise.

[fiery-emblems]

Like a lot of people I sometimes ponder what my favorite characters might look like if they were allowed to grow older. I've been seeing a lot of good designs for older Soren specifically so of course I got to thinkin' about my own take!

Some notes on design process under the cut cause I think we should all share our thought process once in a while:

So, for this I didn't want to just want to go with "Soren, exactly the same but older". My thought was "if I was actually in charge of designing for a fire emblem game, one that takes place in a future Tellius perhaps and featuring this character as a guest (a la Tiki or the Awakening trio, which they should keep doing BTW) how would I go about doing that".

You have to think of course, about what the character is actually doing and what their role is. It seems pretty likely that after RD Soren is either traveling the world with Ike or wandering around (probably the former) so "traveler" was the theme. As far as the overall shape and the outer layer especially it seemed obvious to reference the dragons, who are also travelers:

I don't want to just straight up copy the look of the robes though for a couple of reasons. 1) that's boring and the idea here is for an updated visual style 2) I wanted to combine different elements to evoke a feeling of mixing cultures. I figure if this scenario takes place say, 80 years in the future or something, fashions will have moved forward and perhaps you would see elements of beorc and laguz fashions mixed together. Especially for Soren given what he is. So I went with an inner layer that looks more Victorian puffy sleeves (which you don't actually see a lot of in PoR or RD since the characters favor more stiff looking tunics, but they are there and I figured its the future and maybe Crimea has entered its puffy shirt era) with the outer layer looking more like what the dragons wear. 3) Staying with robes seems kind of stagnant. I imagine that a much older Soren who's lived a good life along side his love has probably chilled out a little bit. A little bit. 4) I think having more leg visible gives a more adult silhouette.

The other consideration is the hairstyle. As much as I love Soren being a carbon copy of Rajaion, it wouldn't be the most interesting design choice if I was the character designer of a game to just copy a past design 1 for 1. So I decided to just lengthen his hair a little bit and give it a look like its been blown around in the wind. Soren is the windy guy and I'm assuming he would be more chill here so why not let it be loose and free? This also helps avoid him just looking like Sephiran cause I see that a lot too lol.

Yes I also changed the shape of his brand. I've always been fascinated by the fact that it changed shape between games. I know it was likely just a design oversight but what if it changed because he isn't an adult yet and it changes more as he ages?

Lastly there's the why. Why would your fav show up as a guest character? What would he even do?? Well I think Soren could be really fun actually if we assume he went with Ike and that Ike kept Ragnell with him. I'm picturing a situation where Ike has lived out his natural life and died, leaving Soren to return to Tellius alone in order to tell Mist's family what happened (cause Ike just left without telling anyone anything lol), and to return Ragnell to them. Instead some conflict breaks out, you know how it is, and the more chilled out Soren is convinced to bestow the sword onto the new starry-eyed lord who reminds him of his beloved.

Oh yeah. I can see it now.

[aechii]

getting into a fight with jude then you break up w him , then months later he sees you at a party n still wants you back 🙏🏽🙏🏽

₍₍ SiX FEET UNDER ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! toxic!ex!jude x exgf!reader

GENRE ?! angst

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, unhealthy relationship, something about writing toxic!jude that has me brainrotting, reader knows her worth, profanity, a small cameo of playboy!trent, drinking (sip responsibly ppl)

A/N ?! i love love love writing toxic!jude, fight me. other than that, plz do enjoy because for once in a while, im liking what i've written <3 [next fic will be a trent one, dwdw]

~°~

"you're not fucking getting me, jude!"

the heat she felt is all encompassing, red, burning fury for a man— boy, who timelessly strung her along with reins of faded promises and stagnant affection. a piling mountain of 'what could i have done better?' weighed like rocks and bricks, yet if her mother were here, she would've looked on with absent surprise.

she had warned her daughter, begged her even, that men— boys like jude had their words proclaimed as if in the finality of red ink, but their minds basked in a bath of sinful infidelity.

but [y/n] craved love. a feeling she had never encountered fully as it was more of a come and go, never marinating into her flesh and heart. but jude— god, jude, with his heightened charisma and intoxicating smile, had promised to love her from sunrise to sunset, from dusk till dawn.

yet, if those words held any truth, then they wouldn't have stood there, in an air of edged demise.

"listen," jude looked completely uncaring, dragging a hand down his face, "if you can't fucking tell, i'm trying, yeah? and it's not everyday i'm gonna be available."

"i never said i wanted you here everyday, jude," [y/n] cried, frustrated. her bones felt heavy, yet it was the hurt in her chest that blinded every sense of her's.

jude threw his arms in the air, scoffing, "then what the hell d'you want, [y/n]?" his voice resonated with exasperation.

"for you to be 100%, jude, it's not that hard! and if you can't handle a relationship— an exclusive relationship, then don't waste my time!"

they were tipping over at the edge of the cliff, and their fall was inevitable. frankly speaking, [y/n] should've known that their whole... involvement with each other was just a sprint to this foreshadowed end. it started off rocky, and no matter how insistent the red lights were, her eyes were glazed with blatant ignorance.

jude's presence then was like a toxin, accumulating in her muscles and causing every inch of movement to release pain. she needed to leave, with not a turn of her head back, and put jude in her first and only failed attempt of what could've been a blissful experience.

"you know what? i'm done— i can't stand here looking stupid for a boy who doesn't love me the same way," she scoffed, turning on her heel to climb the stairs.

she wished she hadn't had heard it. maybe it would've made her departure easier, that jude, truthfully, cared about her and just had the pieces of his mind misplaced and skewed. that maybe all they needed was space and time to seek and mend before they could try again.

but what she got was like a slap to the face, and the sickening truth that jude was never hers. and never wanted to be hers.

"since you can't understand where i'm coming from for shit, by all means, [y/n], leave."

+_-

the party had been, literally, timeless for jude. he hadn't known for how long he swirled the red cup of [spiked] punch pressed into his hand as he leaned against the door frame and observed the busy bodies that made him stick out like a sore thumb.

it had been months, 3 months, as jude'd been counting, since [y/n] bode her adieu to their relationship, or rather, whatever remnant of it remained. he felt like a disassociated body, existing for the mere fact that he had to, not because he wanted to, and part of him wanted to believe that it was all part of the 'life' experience.

it wasn't.

denial was a vile thing, and everyday, he woke up thinking that their end was her fault, and not his. that whatever they had was a lesson among others, and that he had to move on and find someone else that he could attach his data to.

but he knew, knew that [y/n] was a person that appeared like a blue moon, and soon enough, he found himself lost like a needle in a haystack and regretting. had no one but himself to blame, even his damn brother told him so.

his appearance externally, to those who didn't know what revved inside him, was a continuous ebb and flow from one party to another. whatever he had to do to make him forget was his priority, and if he had to get mind-numbingly drunk to do so, then it was welcomed to be his guest.

it was his 3rd one of the week, by approximation. more or less, he didn't care, nor did he want to know, because recklessness was what seemed more comfortable than guilt and shame, and he was so sure that his body was more alcohol than water. counted his lucky stars that it was the end of the season and so he could do whatever his heart urged him to do. his heart, keyword there.

his darkened mood seemed to have seeped into the room because after hours of remaining stagnant doing nothing, trent walked up to him, identical solo cup in one hand and the other weighing on his shoulder with concern.

"guilt is eating you up, eh?" trent chided, although not as cheerily as expected. jude grunted and took another sip as he huffed out a flippant, "shut up," that had trent throwing his hands up, as best as he could, in defence.

"look- i've been there, done that."

jude looked at him suspiciously, "you've had flings, trent."

"yeah," he shrugged, mellow yet firm, "to forget about her."

"never knew that," jude said with an air of surprise. trent wasn't necessarily the best person to come to in terms of... serious romance, per se.

just as trent went to retort, jude's eyes cast around the room, and zeroed entirely on one hovering figure, meddled with a group of more girls who looked far too merry compared to the one that caused jude's tunneled vision, and before he could stop himself, his mouth punched out a, "fuck."

trent caught whiff of jude's exasperated and frozen countenance, "what?"

it took a whole body and more for jude to respond, "she's here."

then trent's head whizzed around, seeking for the girl whose scarce presence had his friend in complete misery and his line of sight paralleled jude's, "i... did not know she was coming."

"me too," jude said automatically, and as if they had a mind of their own, his feet began to move. trent noticed immediately, and a tough grip wrenched around jude's bicep, "where do you think you're going?"

"to talk to her?" enunciated as if it were a question, but there was an undercurrent of certainty that made trent want to slap jude for his sheer stupidity.

"and do what? beg for her forgiveness as if you did not walk her out your home hand in hand?"

jude scowled at trent's bluntness, "it wasn't like that."

"well it fucking seemed like it," trent chastised.

jude was completely deaf to trent's words by then, as the second she was left alone by the bar, he had an aim. an aim to get her back by the end of the night, and if he didn't, he wouldn't walk out there with all pieces of him intact.

did he need her? yes. and it may have taken him too long to realise, but jude didn't care. it was all part of the 'life' experience.

he managed to slip out of trent's vice grip (who, at that point, had given up drilling pleads into jude. he had to plummet back to reality, one way or another), and by auto-pilot, walk towards [y/n] who has too busy ordering another round of shots to even notice his arrival until his words punctured the air, "hey."

[y/n] spun around. rapidly and in complete shock as her eyes were blown wide. she had wanted to utter everything and nothing at all, but her mouth seemed to malfunction, to both her dismay and relief, so she resolved to a questioning jut of her head forward.

jude nervously scratched the back of his neck, "i uh- how have you been?"

she thought for a few seconds then shook her head conclusively, "as best as i could be, jude."

it may have not been intentional- matter of fact, who had jude been kidding? it was intentional, the icy tinge in her tone and closed off-ness as she settled her stance and crossed her arms. a blank space, gaping and hollow, was left in silence as jude tried to find words to say.

"i'm sorry."

[y/n] looked at him incredulously, "you're sorry?"

jude nodded.

and then she laughed. jude would've blamed it on drunkeness if it hadn't been for the obvious, mocking sarcasm as she stopped and looked at him just as quickly as she started.

"you're funny jude, very funny," she chuckled, turning around to slide a shot glass from the counter, raising it in gratitude to the bartender who gave her a nod back, before patting jude's arm to walk away.

he was delirious by then. in absolute confusion, wondering what he had done to seem so... ridiculous to [y/n]. he had apologised, hadn't he? made sure to make it as geniune as he mouth could mold it and that was enough. it had to be.

he spluttered, reaching out to stop her by her wrist, but, as if his touch were hot, she slapped him away, "don't you fucking touch me, jude."

"i said i'm sorry-"

"and you think that's enough? to do what, jude? get me back?"

he nodded and she laughed again, chesty and completely deprecating.

"you know, let me give you advice jude," her expression submerged jude 6 feet under, it felt like it, "don't date. you're completely shit at it."

jude was definitely 6 feet under.

[geewintg]

You're trying to write an emotionally-charged scene but doesn't feel emotional enough?

Do you wish your scene feels like this? (the following piece is really important and heavily mentioned to the tips down below but you can skip cause I'll provide specific lines anyway)

"He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him.  

Those were the reasons he hated admitting. Because it made him sound petty. And he hated to admit that it affected him more than it should have, that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings.   

He feels vulnerably offered.  

It makes him feel weak.  

He’s weak.  

For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic.  

But still, no matter, all the times he spent with him in that little space they made themselves comfortable, no matter how brief, it made him forget about the duties that await him in his pyramid.  

He made him feel normal. 

He was offered cooked meals. He scolded him for offering Collei bland palate. He made him do stuff, with disregards of his status, whenever he chanced upon it. He, for once, felt what it's like to have a home .

And he hated that he could no longer despise him for what he did. Because he unintentionally gave him the things he craved for—normalcy." -Ephemeral Twilight

I was asked before how to make your writing gut-wrenching. And I was left stumped, because I've never really thought of it before. I just let my fingers do the typing. But I gotta help this person somehow, so in doing so, I came up with advices I think might help in order to write in the style you so perfectly desire: (I am by no means expert, but let me know if some of this helped you in starting to write it)

Adding correlation - as someone who describes the environment a lot, I fall too often into descriptive writing -- going too much into detail on the background setting. Fortunately, there's a work around that I found in order for some of your writing to not go to waste: adding correlation. For example: The sun was scorching. It burned his feet as he treaded along the vast empty dunes, cursing it with the same tongue that used to sing praises of its glory. Adding correlation from the background to your character is the first step of breaking the ice of stagnant writing (mostly when you find yourself having nothing to say in the first few paragraphs). You're creating a framework of what goes on in your character's head (which is vital if you want to affect readers through your character's thoughts) while setting the scene to your readers. It also acts like a build up. Another example: The wind bites her skin yet it was numb compared to her heart thrown and left frozen in the winter storm.

Reading emotional materials - by reading any material that conveys the emotion you wanted to write, you're setting yourself in the perfect headspace to imagine and create the scene. As corny as it sounds, you need to feel it. How do you think actors were able to portray their character's emotions so well if not for feeling and experiencing it themselves? It won't work if you're experiencing an emotion contradicting to the emotion you want to portray. So yes, exposing yourself to any media that has conveys the exact vibe you want is a good way.

Repetition - repetition emphasizes. It creates desperation -- "longingness" of something what could have been; of what they truly wanted or what they truly despised. It gives you the opportunity to play around why they specifically felt that way, all the reasons to say, all of the things to convince your reader to feel the same way. Take for example the piece above: "He feels vulnerably offered. || It makes him feel weak. || He’s weak. || For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic." To this character, being seen as vulnerable is the worst type of thing, which also stays true to most people. People don't like being seen as weak. It emphasizes it. It's the thing he hated the most because his ego (something related to an emotional-aspect) cannot afford him to. And another example is the obvious, almost gagging (don't cancel me, I wrote the piece lol), repetition of hate: "He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him. || Those were the reasons he hated admitting. Because it made him sound petty. And he hated to admit that it affected him more than it should have, that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings. || And he hated that he could no longer despise him for what he did."  Additionally a special mention: "...that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings..." over, over, over... This is also a repetition itself, or what at least I consider it to be. It still creates that emphasis you want to go for.

Contradiction - contradiction and repetition can go hand in hand for a more effective impact. Because in our examples previously mentioned such as "He feels vulnerably offered. || It makes him feel weak. || He’s weak. || For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic." this was contradicted because even though he hated to show vulnerability and weakness, it happened. The thing he hated the most happened. And this: "He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him. || Those were the reasons he hated admitting." He hated admitting but still ended up admitting it. It's the psychology play of after making your reader believe about one thing, then you crush it at the end -- because it's the same for your character. They believed this thing for so long that they repeatedly told themselves, convinced themselves, gaslit themselves, only for it to tumble down to realization that that belief was wrong. The character's contradiction of their own convictions.

Well, that's all for now. If you find these tips working for you, then congrats. Glad I could help. Tell me if you need more of this stuff in the future, and also feel free to ask me for more advices. I may not be an expert but I did start somewhere and working my way up so I'm willing to offer the stuff I've accumulated in those years of writing.

[cult-of-the-eye]

Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski as a jmart song:

"there's nobody better than you/it just took me a while til I knew"

Fuck it's so Jon talking to Martin. He sees Martin as a better person than him, both morally and literally in terms of humanity and it fits his whole S1 ew martin to S4 oh martin arc so well

"but you knew from the start it was us, didn't you/it just took me a while til I knew"

Yep yep yep that's Martin. He loved Jon from the start. Of course Jon's admitting that. And of course he's doing it in such a self deprecating way.

Read more cause this is long

"now I lay as I study a blank wall/would you spare me your voice if I call?"

Ok so we're in Martin's Peter Lukas era right now, Jon is fully pining he's completely checked out and dissociating and he needs Martin to ground him, to be his anchor and he's reaching out in a way that puts the focus on Martin's next move as opposed to him calling which is SO HIM

"Cause you waited and watered my heart 'til it grew/you just grew a little smarter, too"

Fuck he's like you treated me so well, you waited so long for me to like you back but then you realised it was futile and stopped, but obviously you would do that because you're an angel and blameless

"So, I don't blame you/If you want to bury me in your memory/I'm not the girl I ought to be, but/Maybe when you tell your friends/You can tell them what you saw in me/And not how I turned out to be"

Jon's love is just so self deprecating I feel like, he's so acts of service, he's like it's ok that you don't want me, I get it, I'm not loveable but at least I seemed loveable for you to have crushed on me for that long

And and cause Martin's separated from jon, the only thing he has left is his memory of him, the one that lives in his head

"There's some kind of burning inside me/It's kept me from falling apart"

Oh yeah this is so them like Jon's had this drive within him, this incessant need to keep going, to keep finding things out, to keep burrowing deeper into the problem and it's kept him alive cause it's kept him ambitious and it's kept him from being stagnant but it's also been destroying him from the inside cause he can't stop

"And I'm sure that you've seen what it's done to my heart/But it's kept me from falling apart"

But Martin sees this, Martin knows who Jon is and it's almost a plea to try and accept that what's driving him isn't a good thing

"Now here I lay as I wonder about you/would you just tell me what I'm meant to do?"

Jon's like how do I get Martin to come back, how do I get him to be near me, ive tried everything, just tell me and I'll do it

"Cause I've waited and watered my heart 'til it grew/you can see how it's blossomed for you"

Its like a look, you waited for me, now I'll wait for you, I'll take care of myself in your absence to show you how much I care about what you've done for me, I do love you, finally, thank you for waiting all this time

"And I don't mean to make your heart blue/But could we be what we're meant to be?/I'm just about to beg you, please"

God I'm so feral for this last bit

Jon's like I know me begging you to come back is hurting you but I'm finally giving into what you want, you need to come back so we can be together like we're meant to, he's at the end of his tether, he's pleading while threatening to plead

"And then, when you tell your friends/You can tell them what you saw in me/And not the way I used to be"

I'll be better for you, I promise vibes.

[superconductivebean]

#919: imelda headcanons post

Whilst writing something anything for my wlw OTP's and OT3 has me in a perpetual state of stagnant gaze at the nearly empty sheet, I thought, what if I go full delulu and out of the writing way again.

If you've been following me for a while, you might've noticed this tag, #utlitd brainrot. It is the reservation for my magnum opus fic, its abbreviated name, yadda yadda yadda. I don't post about it often assumed it'll be super tiring to have my ramblings look nice -- even though this work is my MC's entire storyline lmao.

Anyhow, while working on it lots I've become to sit on some ideas and headcanons and -- not sharing them. I'm a criminal for this. I plea guilty. Some headcanons are brainrot-derived and marked as such.

Assuming you've not scrolled past my little hello note, IMELDA REYES HEADCANONS:

Butch lesbian. Accepted herself rather well but she was soon to realise finding someone isn't just a challenge, it's a quest;

Half-Spanish, Half-Scottish. Her grandparents and part of the family left Spain, fleeing the tumultuous change of its regimen;

Was born in Glasgow, Scotland. If the family decided to stay in Spain or to move back, would've attended Beauxbatons instead;

Relatives from the father's side live in Seville, mother's side of the family is stretched across Orkney Islands;

Learnt to ride the broom there btw, she's well-accustomed to the weather and especially, weather changes. If to name one of the reasons she is an amazing Chaser, this would be one of them;

Not as much of a headcanon as it is a tiny essay but! She doesn't like Seekers for a very peculiar reason, if not to downright call it a fundamental difference between a skill-dependent play and a luck-dependent play. She often irates at Seekers: they bask in attention and praised for their skill -- but Chasers rarely have a fraction of that, as if they perform a rotten work! That's her opinion. Bar in the grand scheme of things, Seekers are the different breed of team players. They have to count numbers and be on a constant chase & lookout for the snitch in order to win in numbers. 150 points for the snitch is only 15 times quaffle gets through the rings; you could imagine a scenario when 150 points aren't enough if not for the Chasers' work;

This one is pretty much implied canon: she doesn't like Gryffindors because a Gryffindor caused her father a permanent injury ('took his knees out', gruesome), hence he's disabled and can't walk on his own -- and has been unable to walk since his school years. Imelda is unlikely to had seen him riding a broom ever in her life;

Brainrot: despite the disability, her father is an avid Quidditch aficionado, goes to her every match and makes half the fannish noise because His Wee Little Mija Is Winning. He's not coming to watch her alone, in fact, half the family attends Slytherin matches. It is an important social link for Imelda;

She doesn't have many friends, if at all, which is also an implied canon (an npc slips a mean comment about her, saying she had only a broom for a friend);

Brainrot: support of the family, nonchalant attitude and dead-set goals built Imelda a sense of confidence, she knows what she wants and needs, perhaps, however, she is lacking simple silliness of life and that she isn't anyone's friend but a background celebrity weighs on her;

Brainrot: moreover, her rigid training regimen, partly inspired her childhood on the Orkney Islands, partly enforced by the former Toyoashi Tengu almost-player Madam Kogawa became to feel mundane. As she would put it, there isn't an opponent worthy of her time and skill. As I will say, it isn't as much a need in a rival as it is an ask for a feedback;

Although Imelda notes compliments make people go soft and that no one tells her she did a great job, and that she couldn't care less, she isn't truthful to herself. She needs positive feedback. However, positive feedback isn't praise for her;

After Black cancelled Quidditch for the year, Imelda took it harsh. It meant she was cut off from genuine reaction of the crowd at her play, wouldn't receive family's (dis)approve of performance, and wouldn't even have chances to train on the Pitch;

Brainrot: Imelda feels isolated, to say the least. She is naturally sensitive and quite talkative, insightful and outspoken, however, the mean attitude may have caused people to stray away from her. She does take notice of it but never seek reconciliation, knowing not many people would like to befriend her, besides, a new friend would do game if plays Quidditch or willing to challenge her, too. Time is valuable to her, it's a resource she'd like to spend on a person willing to take on and press on;

MC's timely arrival signified a potential to have someone new to get a hold of after Anne Sallow's untimely departure from the school and effectively, from the Slytherin Quidditch team. Anne was a beater;

Brainrot: to Imelda, Anne was another important social link. They weren't exactly friends but Anne's mischievous nature prompted Imelda to spend more time with her, Sebastian, and Ominis, as both pastime from Quidditch and a way to catch up with studies. Their company introduced her to students she'd normally would've not ever interacted with: Everett Clopton, Ravenclaw Keeper, disastrously ill-disciplined but overall harmless individual, yet too nonchalant to her liking; Garreth Weasley, whom she jokingly berates each time he blows up cauldrons but finds his expertise otherwise valuable whenever she needs help with Potions; Poppy Sweeting, a girl that alerts her to something but she hadn't a clue to what for quite an amount of time, she just knew she wasn't an another meek Hufflepuff; I imagine, @catohphm's Danny, Ravenclaw Seeker, would've been introduced to Imelda, too;

Brainrot: if u thought her and poppy had slowburn mutual pinning 300k words until the first kiss kind of thing going on in my head u are not wrong it is basically canon to me they're so different and unsure about each gesture -- or a suspicion there was an one -- it's as cute as it is silly as it is u just name it im gonna cry

She and @boxdstars' Amara probably are in each other's support group even after they completed the Find Girlfriend quest;

Imelda could use more sleep;

A straight O-student in Herbology and a straight E-student in DADA and Charms;

Has a deep respect for Aesop Sharp: if he finds it in himself to go and teach a bunch of dimwits how to brew potions out of seemingly sheer passion for the subject (he's able to tell the colour of the potion is wrong while nose deep into grading papers), just like her father is always eager to attend her games despite and in spite of his injury, she totally can be as motivated for Quidditch. Whenever someone has anything disparaging to say about Sharp, she would admit, she takes it personally;

What she also takes personally are mean comments and the lack of genuine interaction, and appreciation for who she really is. She's stuck, however: she is mean when there has to be insight, she is brash where it needs to be reflection, she simply shatters when she is wrong or pointed out her reasoning does loops and meandering.

The girl is lonely and insecure, she is naturally abrasive but isn't a massive bitch bomb; stubborn, easily dismayed by a sass response, I would also say, she is very capable of being meek or show at least some weakness when privy because upholding a veneer of someone tough but who isn't really her is a very emotionally tasking endeavour.

and if u'd like more imelda hcs including nsfw ones feel free to send me an ask 👉👈

some tags: @thriftstorebabayaga -- look it is breaching containment again @ladyofsappho @celestial--sapphic @rypnami @endeavour12345

[rawliverandgoronspice]

hey! do you have any thoughts on demise as a looser/more fluid/symbolic/metaphorical figure in the context of the story of the series- like thoughts on what he represents, and stuff like what his curse could mean thematically rather than the more essentialistic absolutistic "literal satan" interpretation that most of the (at least western) audience seems to take?

i know he may be somewhat contentious as a choice introduced by the writers especially considering from an outside perspective what he kind of did to the majority of fandom analysis and discourse, but i've been thinking about how it's quite possible the writers had a more paganistic approach to what it means to be a deity and how demise doesn't even really have a NAME so much as he is supposed to be some sort of manifestation/personification of the concept of demise, and maybe also of hatred, and also i don't know, like, what the point of that hatred is or why there has to be demise/what implications there could be of this worldbuilding

hope that was coherent enough to make sense of anything i just said but yeah i was just curious if you do!

Heyy sorry never replied, replying now!! Thanks for the ask!

Yeah it's exactly how I'm taking Demise, and I think what you mention connects more to what little I know and understand of shintoism.

In French, Demise has an absurdly long name and is basically called "The Avatar of the Void", which I think is... interesting? It makes me extremely curious as to how Demise is called in original japanese --because to me, "Void" is about the absence of things more than their destruction. It's about the absence, not the inevitability of things crumbling down that comes with Demise. I don't know which of these concepts are the closest to the original vision (if it's Void rather than Demise I think it recontextualizes everything we thought we know about this world and characters, but in my opinion it feels too incoherent with the rest of the world, so my guess is that it was a poorly thought-out translation --but I might be wrong!), but to me it's all in the title: Demise. The curse is that every golden era must end with a reckoning.

I think the curse is extremely compelling in that mythological sense, the way Demeter and Persephone's tale is about the joy and pain of passing seasons; it's the given cause for this world's fate as it is condemned to rise and die continuously; and that their eternal, bright future will always be opposed. To be honest, I'm not even sure it's a *bad* thing. Conflict is not only inevitable, it needs to rise to the surface instead of being suppressed to ensure things do not remain stagnant and shortcomings are being acknowledged and addressed --which is also partially why the suggestion of TotK's golden forever after really doesn't sit right with me, especially since nothing was learned and nothing truly changed in the course of its runtime.

I think the curse sucks when people think it means that Ganondorf is a generic evil demon man without motive of his own. It especially grinds my nerves since I somehow never hear this argument being made for *any* other villain in the franchise. I know they look alike the most (and TotK didn't help matters here), but I never *ever* saw people arguing that Vaati doesn't have motive, for example. Or Majora. Or Zant. Or even literal nothing characters like Bellum, who by all means looks more like a primal demonic evil acting on instinct than anyone else. Somehow, we get to assume they have internal motives that, while obviously wicked and self-serving, are their own! But somehow, Ganondorf, the actual main antagonist of his series with the most amount of games hinting at his backstory and internal moral code, gets flattened as an evil puppet with no internal life whatsoever. It's genuinely bizarre.

Anyway sorry sorry! Thanks again for the ask!

[nikethestatue]

So I've been thinking about this.

The Inner Circle, as we came to realise, isn't exactly perfect. It's a stagnant place for the 5 people that had occupied it for so long. It's a relationship of secret resentments, lies, half-truths, and mistrust, and while the Archeron sisters relationship is wrought with issues, compared to the IC, it's based on honesty. These women don't always like each other, also resent one another, are frequently annoyed and unhappy, but they don't hide. They don't hide their natures or their feelings.

Here is what's interesting: Rhys looks at the IC with these absurd, rose-coloured glasses. He doesn't want to 'interfere' with the Moriel x Cassian, situation, offering the pretense of him being uninvolved and simply an observer. He CHOOSES to not see things around him--chooses not to see Mor, chooses not to see Azriel, and generally expects Cassian to just go along with everything. The lies that they've been telling each other for centuries are so ingrained in them, that the moment someone new arrived--Feyre--Rhys immediately began feeding her the same crap he's been so keen on accepting as truth for so long. 'Azriel is madly in love with Mor' and 'Azriel's been hoping/waiting for the bond to snap' and 'Azriel's been pining for her non stop for 500 years'. And naturally, Feyre, seeing that all-important confirmation bias, begins to 'see' the same thing. She begins to trust and believe Rhys's opinions as if they are facts.

But these 'facts' don't coincide with realities. Feyre finds out that all of these people have had numerous lovers throughout the centuries. She finds the dynamic between Cassian and Mor and Azriel odd and begins to question Rhys about it. He, as always, tries to sweep it under the carpet and tells her not to interfere.

Yet, who is the first person who questions the bond between Lucien and Elain? Feyre. And what does she ask? She asks 'why not make them (Azriel and Elain) mates?" Because from her fresh, new perspective, which isn't coloured by deceit and BS, that's what she immediately notices, and feels innately--why aren't Elain and Azriel mated? It feels right to Feyre that they should be. On the flip side, what does Rhys do when he confronts Azriel? He immediately slides back into the familiar status quo of 'What of Mor?" It's almost like he can't fathom that something 'unsanctioned' by him should be taking place in his Inner Circle.

Nesta--another Archeron sister, who is keen on seeing things as they are, and telling things as they are--sees her sister with Azriel, and immediately notices that something charged passed between the two of them. She sees it at once, as soon as she observes them together, whereas her 500 year old mate is still unable to comprehend as to what might have caused these changes in Azriel. It's at Cassian's fingertips--and yet he still can't put two and two together.

Lastly, what does Azriel say about Elain? That she was 'well aware' of why he was avoiding her, and that she could always see through him. What those who were closest to him and who seemed to have known him the best couldn't understand or acknowledge about his behaviour, Elain just...knew.

The sisters coming into the IC is probably the best thing that could've happened to all those people. People hate Nesta for being rude to Rhys and not liking him, but it's because SHE can see him for what he is. Not this idealised version that Cassian and everyone else seems to believe, but the real him.

Same with Feyre, to whom Mor is finally able to come out. She couldn't do that with anyone for 500 years, but Feyre saw, and understood her.

Elain, the quiet, gentle Elain, is refusing to bow to the bond, and questions the expectation of male entitlement to her time and affections. When Rhys immediately falls back to 'well, Elain and Lucien are mates! We shouldn't be going against that, we shouldn't be starting wars or blood duels, and I forbid you (Azriel) from pursuing her' Elain is finally offering a new stance on the bond issue.

I love seeing these three girls shaking things up and opening some eyes and some wounds.

[camthesolemnone]

Sorta of a HeavyMedic vent(?) oneshot cause I've been inactive on AO3 for so long

"Mein lieber, you look frustrated."

The scene Medic was greeted with upon entering his lover's bedroom was not one he would have preferred. Heavy was sitting at his desk with a pencil in hand and a blank sheet of paper in front of him. The giant was hunched over, straining his muscles and revealing all of the stress in his shoulders and neck. His expression was scrunched up; it appeared that he was on the brink of punching a hole right through the paper.

"I am! This feels pointless!" Heavy responded.

Misha's overly harsh tone notified the doctor that this was not a spur of the moment irritation: it was suppressed anger that he had been holding in for days or possibly weeks. It was an extremely unhealthy habit, and while Ludwig would normally chastise his lover for this type of behavior, he knew that comforting words would be more effective in quelling his beloved's rage.

"What seems to be the problem? Having a bit of writer's block?" Medic asked in a cautious tone.

Heavy snapped back: "It has been months! There is no inspiration, no motivation! Whenever I put pencil to paper, I lose my will to write. I feel as if I have gotten nothing done."

Ludwig understood the true magnitude of the situation and was determined to support Misha in any way he could. He too fell into fits of unproductivity in his medical work, and it could feel crushing to the point of suffocation at times. The doctor paced over to Heavy and squatted down to his level. He placed his hands over his lover's with the intent of kneading the tension out of them.

"Why do you think this creative drought is occurring? You are a master of poetry, my dear, so I am certain your head is not completely devoid of ideas."

And the medic was correct. Heavy had so many different story ideas in his mind at any one time, but it came with the caveat of not knowing where to start. Most of his ideas lived and died as a single paragraph in his notebook, never pursued further after the initial burst of excitement. It felt like a never ending cycle.

"I do not know, Medic. I was so productive before--I even published a book! I have more time now than ever to create, and yet I am stagnant" Heavy explained.

"How about you take your mind off of it for a while? We can grab lunch, and maybe you will be more motivated by the time we get back," Medic offered.

"Nyet! That is exactly why nothing is getting done! I say that to myself, and then spend the whole day polishing Sasha or playing Poker! I don't know what has happened, Doktor!"

The more that Heavy described his struggle, the more clear the picture became to Medic. He was trapped in a terrifying cycle indeed: it wasn't just a case of short term writer's block, but the fault of a larger, well-hidden force.

"Misha, mein Kuschelbär...do you think you might be depressed?"

Heavy's anger intensified and it appeared that he was about to lash out at Medic for making such a claim when he suddenly froze. The giant slowed down and sunk back into his seat, really considering his lover's words.

"No, I can't be! I am not a weak baby man! Only small babies suffer from sadness problem!"

Medic sighed and shook his head.

"Depression isn't necessarily only characterized by sadness. It is associated with a lack of motivation in daily activities and can affect you in many different spheres of well being--"

Ludwig stopped when he realized that his explanation was getting a bit too professional. Professional rationalism was not was his lover needed in the moment: he needed compassion.

"Heavy, it's okay to accept that you're not well. Anyone of any age group can feel this way. I'm here for you, as your doctor, and lover."

Slowly but surely, the frustration on Heavy's face began to fade. He had been made fun of as a child in his small Russian village whenever he cried in public. Additionally, his father had essentially drilled into his head before his passing that a real man concealed his feelings from his loved ones. He thus grew up with the notion that any form of emotional distress was a sign of weakness. His partner was determined to change that thought. Misha's fists loosened as Ludwig whispered reassurances to him, allowing him to fully entwine their hands. The German leaned in to give the Russian a soft kiss on the forehead, which resulted in the first smile from him Medic had seen since entering the room.

"The Medigun cannot heal emotional damage, but I might have some medication in my cabinet that could help." Medic ended off his sentence with a playful wink.

Heavy laughed at this comment and pulled Medic up to sit in his lap. He placed his chin over the doctor's shoulder, nuzzling the crook of his neck whilst keeping him close in the iron circle that was his warm arms. Ludwig joined in with the laughter when Misha's stubble tickled his neck.

"Thank you Doktor. You have taught me valuable lesson. I will face this depression head on and write poetry again! ...And Heavy wants love from his medic now."

Medic smiled, relieved to see his beloved in a better mood.

"Affection can certainly be a remedy!"

[slippinninque]

Update!!!

I know I have been gone for a while, it's been a bit hard trying to find the muse for writing when I've been putting so much pressure on myself. Now this is a totally self-made problem lol!

Nothing flowed right, the ideas didn't fit the characters, I started to feel more and more of a fraud the more that time has gone by.

My drafts are bursting and I have so much to say, but I don't know where to put it. My brain was stagnant and my hands were still. I hated it.

I needed away from the blank page. So I picked up another hobby of mine to remember that I am capable of making things with these hands of mine.

My sister's birthday is coming up and while I'm already crocheting her a huge bumblebee, I wanted her to have something special. Something for her to squeeze and to remember her weird, little sister

Lilo & Stitch has been our movie. We were already close at that time but I remember us sitting down and watching it for the first time and both of us just being so grateful for each other.

I will never forget when my sister looked over at me with tears in her eyes and said,

"I could never let anyone take you from me."

She saw me in Lilo, a creative and eccentric little bean who had some hard times trying to fit in. I saw in her a sister who could give me a hard time, but only because she cared and wanted me to be myself.

Not what my parents hoped I would be, not what the kids at school said I was, but me.

I wanted to make something for my big sister, my bestest friend, my Cool Mom. Something for the both of us, really...

THIS IS SCRUMP! My sister's birthday is next month but I don't know if I can wait to give this to her. I know she's gonna love it cause she loves surprises lol! It's not a perfect replica, but this is the first plush/stuffie that I have made like this and I'm very happy with it!

Whole point is that I've gotten the urge to write again! Yeah, a lot of crafting fics and some weird stuff--but my pen is moving. I don't look down at my hands in shame anymore, I'm not banging my head against wall anymore to make something just because.

Remind yourself your heart is capable. Not only of survival and how much it can hold, but what it can lead you to.

Be nice to yourself and wherever you are in the present. Be there for a long as you need to be. Make out of it whatever you want because it's beautiful all the same.

[empty-dream]

Just read FGO Götterdämmerung

Aka the Otome Lostbelt as I read somewhere

Also apparently the Attack on Titan Lostbelt.

I said "just read" but in reality it's been like 3-4 months. I didnt have time to put all my thoughts together and I needed a lot of it to actually form any thought lol.

Up till now I've refrained to comment on the Gotterdammerung story that I've never actually read. So now that I've read it myself, now I understand why many think this lostbelt's story is rather weak. I honestly think it's weaker than its predecessor, LB1.

A long time ago, I theorized that Lostbelts stories will explore about love and different aspects of it. While most of my theories are proven wrong, for a lostbelt that specifically does have love as its central theme, I feel like it could have been...more.

Or more accurately, LB2 feels like it bites more than it can chew.

The LB talks about so many love, be it motherly love, romantic love, sisterly love, friendship love, even godly love. Yet in my personal opinion, only the sisterly and friendship love deal a huge impact on me.

Idk why, but even Scathach-skadi's motherly love (the kind of love that's a sure fire way to make me cry) while mentioned over and over again, it just fall flat to me. Only at the end of the story do I feel sorry for her. I feel like I was more heartbroken when I read her chapter in Nakatani-sensei's From Lostbelt manga.

I was also waiting for someone to mention "Gods can't love humans" (Ahem, Noragami reference here), pointing out how she maintains her world by sacrificing 15 years olds and 25 years olds to be eaten Attack-on-Titan style. Even though she has no choice but to do so, and the reason she maintains the world in the first place is because she loves everything in it, does her love justify the means? Isn't the only one who can do something like that someone -something- not humane? Is that what differs God's love to Human's love? Is that even "love"? I was hoping it'd be at least discussed even though we all know she really would not do it if there was any other way.

Ophelia muttering how she shouldn't think about love and can't fail like Kadoc, implying her train of thought being Kadoc's downfall was caused by the love between him and Anatasia, and turns out love saves her lostbelt and becomes her salvation as well as Kadoc's. Oh poetic cinema.

I kept thinking to myself "does the love triangle (quadruple?) necessary for this chapter?" and after awhile, I came to my own conclusion: yes and no.

Yes for Surtr -> Ophelia and Ophelia -> Wodime. No for Napoleon -> Ophelia.

This is not a "What if asshole boy A falls in love with girl B but chooses to be mean to her out of emotional problems and 1000 other reasons." This is a "What if boy A is literally made, knowing, and capable of one and only one thing: destroy the world, and he falls in love with girl B?" Surtr is exactly written with that concept. Ngl I think that's a good logical outcome that he ends up like this: Showing his love to Ophelia by destroying the world harder.

Although he sure is mean. Odin didn't forget to give him nasty personality befitting the "villain" of the world lol.

I can't deny, a meeting at the end of the world destroyed the same way is rather romantic, if I may say so.

As for Wodime, I do believe that romantic love can drive someone to undergo a great change, positive or negative. For Ophelia who has always remained stagnant, her feelings for Wodime becomes her drive for many things she does. Halfheartedly or not, cowardly or not, she pushes herself forward, she makes decisions on her own, whether that is a wrong way or not. And ngl if I was in Ophelia's shoes and saw what she saw when they were all dead, I think I'd fall at least a little with Wodime too lmao.

As much as I love Napoleon's vibe and bravado, I don't get why he falls in love with Ophelia. I don't think the explanation that this Heroic Spirit Napoleon will always search for someone to love in his incarnation is enough to justify it. Not even the "he thinks she's asking for help" thing, that could be written as a non romantic motive and still works just as well to show how heroic and good-natured Napoleon is. There is no reason why it is a romantic love. I know love sometimes has no logic or reasoning but usually a party has to DO something that personally MOVES the heart of the other party.

But I admit Napoleon and Surtr immediately trash-talking each other as love rival is funny.

Besides that, Napoleon is amusing and great buddy. And the scene with his trump card ... Truly a hope bringer, befitting the title Good Fellow of Everlasting Flame.

Ophelia's genuine feeling for Mash is very interesting actually. I understand her POV of wanting to befriend Mash because there are few girls in Team A (and Akuta is very aloof). How she wanted to befriend Mash yet couldn't close the distance but still tried to anyway, and said feeling still exists even now that it actually stops her from going all out because she couldn't bear hurting Mash and truly treasures her. I feel like it wasnt enough for them to really be tight friends, but if only they had more time, they really could have been such :''

And Ophelia regarding Fujimaru with high respect as their Senpai is pretty heartwarming to me. No wonder in Lostbelt no. 5..... ah...

Sigurd: I've been tricked and taken advantage again I'm a sorry excuse of a hero. Brynhildr: No you're not. Me: Well I actually agree with him on this one but sure whatever u say Mrs Wife

I've been screaming about Sigurd/Brynhildr in this chapter ever since this chapter was out and I will scream it harder now. Even if my teeth rot because the sheer diabetes their interaction gives.

Once, I wondered if Sigurd was an asshole because of what happened to Brynhildr. After Gotterdammerung is out, he's literally best husband he'd die for Bryn but he'd also survive her love-translated-into-murder to prove he loves her. How much he loves his wife and loves to declare it is actually starting to be embarassing, even for Brynhildr lmao.

Giving Sigurd (and by extension Surtr) the voice of THE Tsuda Kenjirou is one of the best decision Type Moon ever makes.

Brynhildr's flashback of her rampage gives me so much chill even though there are no visuals of it. So much that I made a fanart of it. That she might have murdered children and women in blind fury, even though earlier in the chapter she is shown to be great with children and The Model Valkyrie herself just makes a great juxtaposition to show how much love -and being human instead of divinity- steers her to deep end.

The reenactment of her myth (sleeping in the castle surrounded by fire) but this time there is no prince (Sigurd) waking her up but she wakes up and saves herself and others is nice.

Brynhildr and the her sisters interaction is also great. The valkyrie's (I assume it's mainly Ortlinde's POV but really it could be anyone in the group?) lamentation of the past, how Bryn changes from the gentle ice to harsh fire, how they all both feared and envied how much she could change after gaining a human heart, and how they end up gaining that very same heart, it's so tragic yet satisfying as it comes full circle with Thrud and Hildr committing suicide out of broken love just like Bryn did in her myth. Ortlinde freaking out and later coming to terms with everything and choose to fight for what she believes is also in line with them as automata gaining a heart.

Oh and I like the Icy Fire concept here, both literally (the world is covered in fire overlaying Scathach-Skadi's snow, and what happens to Surtr later) and metaphorically (how love can make someone's emotion running wild as cold as ice and as hot as fire)

I DIDNT KNOW, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS IN GERDA'S ART FROM ROAD TO LOSTBELT 7 :'''''''''' That scene is so sad yet so beautiful...

Gerda is basically an innocent child character to be protected. Yet her innocence is also what makes it unsettling that she believes whole-heartedly about the Ordained Day and the short lifespan the people have. Goredolf's rant about how could she, and everyone in her lostbelt, can be okay with any of that, while purely an emotional outburst that's like getting angry at a child who knows no better, raises many points and chilingly resonates well with the concern of the Chaldea members.

I like how Sitonai appears, but I wish she can appear more. The name Illya just brings so much memories... And she even appears with a mother in the form of Scathach-Skadi, just like the original Illya with Iri. It's funny tho that Sitonai is understandably a bit cranky and cheeky with Skadi, unlike Illya-Iri pure doting relationship. Yet the bit where Sitonai ends up missing Skadi just as the Lostbelt disappears is pretty nice.

*snorts* This wouldn't get this long if Holmes just spits out who the hell this Sigurd really is.

Oh, the scene where Surtr breaks out of his prison is scary. Imagine something gigantic comes out of the sun in broad daylight…

And of course the Mystic Eye scene is one of the pinnacle of this chapter. Truly a culmination of Ophelia's development. The voiced version from Flashback Lostbelt no.1-5 MV is even better.

To be able to create 3 spin-off chapters of this lostbelt and deep dive into the psych of each character... Now I understand how much power Nakatani-sensei has.

Napoleon: "Keep moving as long as you still draw breath. You're never completely out of possibilities. There's always something you can do." Everyone in the vicinity: