#doomed to write things that make no sense

[mirixmoya]

I’ve been a hayffie fan for YEARS and the backlash I’m seeing against them now after SOTR overlooks the crucial point Haymitch is an unreliable narrator. His trauma distorts his perception, making him believe he’s incapable of love, but that doesn’t make it true. THG series has consistently shown us that first-person narrators don’t always see themselves clearly. Also, if anything, Suzanne Collins really loves to write a boy who’s wayyy more in love with the girl than she is with him.

Haymitch’s relationship with Lenore Dove was passionate and intense, but it was also fleeting and fragile. It was such a beautiful display of young, exciting, love and infatuation. But I truly think had he not been reaped, her free spirit, their diverging convictions, his commitment to his family likely would have led them down separate paths. His lasting attachment feels more rooted in guilt than the once-in-a-lifetime love.

Effie, however, is a love that endures. She chooses him, over and over, for TWENTY FIVE years, despite what it costs her. She but by a deep, unwavering commitment. The real tragedy isn’t that Haymitch lost his one great love with Lenore Dove—it’s that he doesn’t yet recognize the love he has with Effie.

Love doesn’t diminish when you love again. I truly think Suzanne Collins played off of the star crossed lovers trope presented by Haymitch with Katniss and Peeta and make him and Lenore Dove the true ones of the series. If Lenore was Haymitch’s star-crossed lover destined to be lost, then Effie is proof that love can exist beyond tragedy—whether he realizes it or not.

oookay yes anon i do like a lot of what u said, so i'm just gonna give my thoughts below!! (also, worth mentioning, my pre-sotr hayffie thoughts were a product of like 10+ years of thinking, planning, and refining. so with only a week of thinking space, my post-sotr are very much still in the process of being parsed out and refined.)

i think the idea of haymitch being an unreliable narrator is an interesting one, especially considering how closely paralleled with katniss he is. i do, however, think thg fandom has a tendency to misuse the concept of the unreliable narrator, so i'm gonna be careful with that one. i do think that 16-year-old haymitch should not always be taken at his word, especially when it comes to love. no 16-year-old should be. like you said, his love with lenore dove is passionate, and exciting, and full of youthful-enthusiasm. and it is fleeting in the sense that, narratively, we know it is doomed to end. however, i (personally) take post-war haymitch at his word when he says that lenore dove was his 'mate-for-life'. i think he's old and/or lived enough to know what he means, and i believe him when he says it.

it is interesting that you think that haymitch and lenore dove's diverging convictions would have eventually wedged them apart. i don't know if i agree (yet), but it's something i will definitely continue to think about. but i have been thinking about how haymitch's image of him and lenore dove growing old together is entirely of his own imaginings. lenore dove--who we know to be opinionated, and passionate, and full of life--isn't there to speak for herself. i do wonder what lenore dove would imagine for her own life growing old, and whether it would align with what haymitch has imagined for them. i, also, do agree that guilt has big hand to play in haymitch's epilogue memories of lenore dove. he fed her the gumdrop. he feels like he killed her, and i imagine that's not an easy thing to let go of.

what has allowed me to really reconcile haydove and hayffie's co-existence is that neither seems to be taking up the other's space in haymitch's life. hayffie isn't young love, it isn't whirlwind passion, maybe it isn't even that exciting. their interactions are mundane. their romance is a slow grow. it's stone-by-stone, year-by-year, familiarity, trust, sustained companionship. again, not as exciting as young love, but it might be stronger. it maybe has the ability to last longer. effie could never be what lenore dove was for haymitch, nor (do i think) would she want to be. lenore could never be what effie is for haymitch, nor would she would want to be. these relationships don't overlap. they're parallel in a very literally sense where they don't disrupt or overlap onto one another. and i do think this is how i will be framing haydove + hayffie in my fics moving forward. haymitch's lingering pain over lenore dove should be an affirmation of his ability to love, rather than an opposition.

i also like that you brought katniss and peeta into the conversation because i've been thinking a lot about the linear progression of the love stories we see across the series. if everlark is a pure example of star-crossed lovers, and snowbaird is doomed from the beginning, i think that puts haydove somewhere in-between. i think haydove did love eachother a lot, like all-fire, and i do think they were soulmates to a degree. i don't know if they would have been able to live happily ever after. i don't think it's for me to say. but i do think the central tragedy there is that they never got the chance to figure it out for themselves.

hayffie, on the other hand, does get that chance. they spend 25 years together, building their relationship, brick-by-brick. and (seeing as they eventually reach a point where they've known eachother longer than they haven't known eachother) i don't think it's crazy to assume they spent many more years together after the war.

but let me know what y'all think :)

[voxvalentine]

part of the problem of why people glom onto these ideas that you can accurately model physics in these systems is that they have broadly overstepped their scope and ability in their writing and real physics makes more sense, and people keep running into internal friction that cannot be easily explained, but they tend to be more of a certain mind that can explain it away with physics.

This is a Pathfinder 1e story, which is 3.X with more bits on, so not properly analogous, but here goes: the worst debate I ever experienced at a table involved the interaction between Light and Darkness spells. The module had a monster that could cast Darkness as a SLA (which, SLAs, whole other mechanical can of worms, but we gotta stay on topic).

The physics of light obviously does not work this way, this is a game of wizards and magic, but there was an argument that got incredibly heated when one of the players accused the GM of just draining resources by turning the encounter in a lightswitch-flicking competition that the PCs were doomed to lose because they had a finite amount of light spells. And some of this is more clear in hindsight, but look at the wording of Darkness and how complex it is versus how relatively understandable light is: there being different levels of Darkness with mechanical effects versus Light not having that just caused them to short-circuit in the moment. And they got pedantic and very angry, because they were trying to apply natural physics to the elf game because that ruleset made more sense because they live with it every day.

Not condoning this behavior or belief system, just, I see where it comes from. It's not right or good, but I can see how you arrive there, considering how spells like Darkness and Light are integral to the core of things like D&D and dungeon crawlers broadly...and then there's all the other stuff that's been added over the decades that violate or change or substitute core rules and internal mechanical logic.

The Peasant Railgun doesn't actually work.

Or like. It does, but it doesn't do any of the stuff people claim it does.

For those who don't know, the Peasant Railgun was a thought experiment made up during the heady days of D&D 3e. The crux of the experiment was the fact that D&D 3e had Ready actions (a concept that should be familiar to even D&D 5e players) but no limitation on how many Ready actions could take place in a round, which opened the possibility for theoretically infinite chains of reactions. The idea was that you'd have an unreasonable number of peasants standing in line and the first peasant in line would hand a rock to the next peasant, which would trigger their Ready action of "if I'm handed a rock I will take it and hand it to the next peasant in line," all the way until the last peasant in the line would throw it. This would, according to some calculations, cause the object to move at unreasonable speeds in the space of a 6 second round, and thus by extrapolating the damage based on the velocity of moving objects from the falling damage rules the object would, on a hit, cause somewhere in the region of morbillion points of damage.

That of course is not what would happen. You may have noticed what just happened: people treating the rules for Falling Damage as if there was actually a universal underlying principle informing it underneath it all. But that's simply not the case. D&D 3e doesn't have rules for Falling Damage that emerge from some universal rules for Converting Velocity into Damage. It simply has rules for Falling Damage. This is what I mean when I say that D&D 3e has a physics engine but that it doesn't actually simulate anything besides D&D 3e.

You may have also noticed that there is nothing to stop this trick from working in D&D 4e or 5e. But it rarely gets brought up in conversations of those editions, because those editions don't have a reputation as being physics simulations. And to be fair, D&D 3e is the most physics simulationy edition of the three. But even it isn't a particularly good or accurate physics simulator.

I don't know what the point of this really is. People have a strong idea in their mind that D&D 3e's system acts as a physics simulator, which is only Kind Of True. Because at the end of the day while it is extremely maximalist in its design it's not exactly a game where its many specific rules interactions are derived from first principles. It simply has a lot of extremely specific interactions already accounted for in its mechanics which are the sorts of things that characters might be reasonably expected to run into in the context of a game that features some Dragons in some Dungeons.

[sophiamagia]

Bad habits

-Pairing: Bat family x gn reader

-Sumary: You vape. What started from sharing one with a friend, had slowly turned into buying some for yourself. You stayed at the manor often. The Waynes were a found family to you, and if you weren’t already being taken care of by your own legal guardians, you would’ve been adopted by Bruce himself. You’d probably be a new Robin and everything. You spent a dinner shared with the whole family, a rare occasion for the busy bunch. You step away for a bathroom break, and just take one hit. Then a few. Then you got caught.

-Authoes note: this is a request by the same person as last time, and I was excited to write this one. Btw I don’t usually write a lot of angst so this is so light I’m sorry. Again, I apologize for taking so long, it’s just a religious thing going on right now, no social media. I hope you enjoy it, and requests are open as usual. Sorry it’s a bit short 😔😔🙏

-warnings: small angst, usage of a vape, addiction references, little conflict, I don’t really proof read

~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><><~><~

Bad Habits

     It was a rather cold night; you could hear the gentle patter of rain against the walls and windows of the structure you currently took residence in. There was minimal chatter in the large dining room as everyone waited for the food to be delivered. You were relieved to be in this comfy place again. The warm lighting graced the large room with a sense of security and peace. 

     Alfred delivered everyone’s plates, and Jason was quick to start devouring his food, followed by Dick. You chuckled softly, watching as everyone else ate like royalty. Bruce spoke softly to you from the other end of the table.

     “How have you been, y/n?” 

     “Oh, uhm…” you hesitated. The truth was, you weren’t on your best days. But it wasn’t worth talking about during a nice dinner like this. You took a small bit of your food before replying, “good. I’ve been good.”

     He nodded, and Tim chuckled. You glanced at him, seeing he was just on his phone, typing rapidly. Bruce told him to put it away. 

     You sighed, glancing around at everyone at the table. The comforting silence slowly became itchy. The urge to take a deep breath of something else was getting stronger the more you tried to sit still. You suddenly sat up.

     “I’m using the restroom…” you announced, a bit of nervousness in your tone. Everyone looked up at your suddenness, before looking back to their food. Damian spoke with a bit of attitude he always had.

     “Ok?” He spoke, before rolling his eyes and taking a bite of food from his own plate. You let out a breath, and turned away from the table. You walked down the huge halls, a slow pace turning into a pretty much a jog to get there. You could feel your hand already pulling out the vape before you shut the door. 

     Pressing the button, you brought the edge of the pen to your lips, slowly inhaling the sweet nectar that promised to solve all problems.

1

2

3

4

     Then you put it back in your pocket, holding the vapor in your mouth for a while cracking open a small window. You exhaled, feeling a calm wash over you. Feeling a bit lighter, you took your time with a few more hits. 

     You thought it was just a few minutes. Just a few minutes of relaxation before resuming the dinner. But when you checked your phone, ten minutes had passed.

     Shit…

     You couldn’t lie and say it was the dinner; you had barely touched your plate. Maybe you could say you ate something earlier? No…you told them you hadn’t eaten before this. Maybe they would believe you were just doom scrolling. Yeah. Tim does that all the time; forgetting he has somewhere to be meanwhile scrolling social media endlessly. You nod, closing the window. 

     You take another hit of the vape as you open the bathroom door, only to be met with Damian. You froze, making eye contact with him as a flavored smoke leaves your nose and mouth. His face curls in disgust, and his hands sink into his pockets. 

     “Please don’t say anything…” you muttered, putting the vape safely away in your pocket. He spoke lowly in response.

     “So this is what you spent ten minutes doing? I thought you hated bad habits like that.” He muttered, shaking his head. You couldn’t help but feel irritated and shameful. He must’ve been sent to check up on you, and you could sense his disappointment.

     “It’s different from smoking cigarettes, and it’s not alcohol, or drugs.” You spoke in a mumble, hands fiddling with the vape in your pocket. He snapped back.

     “It’s the same, Y/n,” He shook his head, “you might as well be smoking cigarettes. You can’t seriously be trying to tell me vaping is healthy.”

     You opened your mouth to reply, but saw Dick walking up to you both. This was quickly escalating to something you didn’t want it to.

     “Hey, everything ok?” Dick asked with a smile, looking at Damian, then at you. You tried to speak first, but Damian interrupted .

     “Y/n is vaping.” Damian said flatly, and Dick gave you a confused look. His eyes drifted to your pocket, seeing the vape. His eyes shifted to more of a concerned look than anything else. 

      Does everyone in this family snoop around? No, it wasn’t their fault. You were stupid…walking out of the door taking one last hit. But it’s good. Similar to the feeling of licking a lollipop. Then taking another lick before the sweet taste is gone. Then you’ve eaten the lollipop and go to get another one. 

      Humiliatingly, the lung-killer was taken from you. Everyone was told, and could’ve curled in on yourself when you saw Bruce look at you; the same look a father would give you. A father you actually want to be around, no less. A long conversation was had with you instead of a warm dinner and game night. You were just focused on the fact that you’ve seen some of them smoke before.

      Oh, but you practically begged Bruce not to tell your guardians. You would rather die than face that on top of everything else. But they did anyways. Your room was searched, your bathroom and trash cans. 

Now every time you come over for dinner, Alfred asks you to hand over any “addictive products.” Good luck sneaking past the famous vigilante detectives next time. 

[zorosdimples]

ITADORI YUUJI X READER ⟢ mdni. vaginal fingering + feelings.

The sky weeps plentifully, washing the horizon silver. Tears pelt the towering magnolia outside your window, pooling in pointed petals and veined leaves before overflowing, coursing downward to plink onto the sodden earth.

Your bedroom is the same shade of grey. But it’s warmer in here, shared breath and body heat keeping the room alive. The steady rainfall is drowned out by pleased sounds: fluttery whimpers to rival the whipping wind, heady moans more electric than lightning, groans that rumble deeper than thunder.

“One more—hm? Please?” Yuuji mumbles into your jaw, nipping at the flesh with his canines.

Two of his fingers caress you deeply, exploring your innermost heat with tender precision. It’s a day of rest, of respite, of falling apart beneath him over and over and over. His thumb teases your aching clit, coaxing you further toward the precipice, the rough pad of his digit an insistent pull that promises ecstasy.

The whole time (for hours, it feels) his eyes never leave your face, not even for a split second. Wells of sticky honey soak in every crinkle of your eyelid and twitch of your lip. The tiniest pockmark on your forehead and hair on your cheek is dear to him—a vital brushstroke in the art of your being.

There’s something that yawns within Yuuji, cracks his rib cage open and yearns—no, insists—on memorizing every aspect of you. He has always hungered, ever since he was a young boy. He hungered for love and connection and meaning and a full belly. But you stir something vital within him.

He wants to consume you; he wants to devour everything you do. The quirk of your brow and the tinkle of your laugh and the curve of you nail—they all pluck a chord within him that he didn’t know he had. It’s so innate, so in balance with his soul that he no longer knows what he would do without you. A part of you will forever live with him.

Nothing about you is unfamiliar to the sorcerer; perhaps he knows you better than you know yourself. It’s why he insists that you continue, why he has a knowing smile tucked into his lips when you cry out his name and dribble around his fingers. It’s why he allows you to greedily lick yourself up from his skin and settle into his lap, asking for more with a rock of your hips, asking for him.

[a-passing-storm]

Ough... Moby Dick... Moby Dick... I think I have a new favorite book.

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

That is a drastic misunderstanding of Asuryani and Necron lore.

Biotransference (necrontyr -> necron) happened during the War in Heaven, before the aeldari as we know them even existed. The Old Ones dominated the galaxy at the time, freely creating species or genetically manipulating existing ones. Between biotransference and their alliance with the C'tan, the necrons finally turned the tide in the War in Heaven. In desperation, the Old Ones created various servant species, including the aeldari. The necrontyr predate the aeldari. The aeldari only ever knew and fought the necrons. Hence my complaint. The problem isn't the aeldari being snooty assholes, the problem is bad writing. Aeldari calling necrons "necrontyr" doesn't make sense.

Furthermore, the foundation of Asuryani and Exodite culture was their rejection of the excesses that produced Slaanesh. They're descended from the refugees who fled the mad hedonism of the Aeldari Dominion. They sensed that Bad Shit was coming, they knew the Dominion's decadence was its cause, and they wanted to get out. Here's an excerpt from Asurman, one of the few depictions of the pre-Fall eldar that we have:

´…this shall not end in peace but in war with ourselves. Our great foe remains, within ourselves, when all others have been conquered. To what mischief will idle minds turn ? To what depravity will we stoop when our lives no longer have meaning? What sensation shall we crave when the exotic has become mundane?’ As the doomsayer turned towards Illiathin he realised too late that it was not her words that were driving folk away, as ridiculous as they were, but the glow of the projector lenses fitted into her eyes. The moment he met her stare the psychoprojectors reached into his mind, conjuring up a scene from his own subconscious. He saw himself being burned alive by the stellar flare, each layer of his body stripped away an atom at a time. He watched in horror as skin, then fat, then muscle was flensed away, all that he was consumed by the fiery passion of the star. And then came the realisation that it was not the star that devoured him, but his own passions and desires, and that they were eating away inside him, hollowing out his spirit. Into this emptiness poured a filthy black fog, polluting his body, corrupting everything that he was. Breaking away from her gaze with an effort of will, Illiathin rose to his feet with an angry shout. ‘You’re insane!’ he yelled. ‘Fates-forsaken doom-monger, ply your misery elsewhere!’ The crowd was turning from agitated to hostile, the calls of derision becoming louder, a few threats thrown in with the denouncements. ‘Heed our words and know that our destroyer stalks us,’ the doomsayer shrieked, ducking as something was thrown at her. She had time to hurl one last warning before turning and running pursued by a hail of insults and a few improvised missiles. ‘The exodus is coming. Only those that join us will be saved!’

The Paths system isn't a "small adjustment" from the Dominion's hedonism, it's a drastic change designed specifically to prevent a return to decadence by channeling the aeldari tendency to hyperfixation and emotional extremes to a disciplined, productive pursuit. The Drukhari actually mock the Asuryani for living stunted lives, and consider themselves to be the true inheritors of the Dominion. They're not entirely wrong, but that is not a good thing to be.

And literally no one is in denial about the causes of the Fall. Sweet Ynnead, the most famous Harlequin show is about the Fall. From Valedor:

The Harlequins playing the eldar danced nobly and with strength, various movements within the dance alluding to legendary happenings, some well known, but many leaving the twins feeling ignorant. Over time, a note of discord crept into the music. The gods’ movements became halting, concerned. The eldar moved ever more twistedly, and one by one their dances became darker and darker, until they were acting out depravities in groups all around the stage. The music grew unpleasant. Stealthily at first, then with brazen openness, others came and joined the dance. They wore black body-suits, their masks projecting snarling faces that whisked into the audience and peered into their eyes, causing them to shrink back and cry out. The servants of Chaos. The sweet scent grew stronger, and the dancers grew in stature, becoming giants. The black-suited creatures moved among the eldar, dancing obscenely. They drew them into grotesque pairings, and when they touched, the dancers representing the eldar took on the dances of the servants of Chaos, their bodysuits losing their colour, their stances losing the cast of nobility they had previously displayed. The gods recoiled as more and more of the Harlequins dancing the dance of the eldar were corrupted, and then they too were assailed.

I swear I remember earlier editions depicting the Dance as a frigging morality that the Harlequins would perform for anyone, even other species, to warn them from making the same mistake. Unfortunately I don't have a source on that, so take it with a grain of salt.

And while there are various reasons why the aeldari lose in-lore, the out-of-universe reason is that the aeldari are GW's punching bag. Okay, this is admittedly getting into my own opinion, but it's one I've seen echoed by many other fans. Part of the problem is that the guy who controls aeldari lore thinks that if the space elves win an unalloyed victory, then their "dying race" theme is undermined. Needless to say, he doesn't give them solid victories too often. Add to that GW's bias towards the Imperium, which tends to treat all xenos as antagonists to be defeated, and you end up with a rather ugly picture.

The Ynnari are no exception to this rule. After Gathering Storm, GW pretty much binned their storyline. Each successive edition depicts the Ynnari spinning their wheels more and growing more desperate while all the cool allies they gathered wander off back to the factions they came from. It's fucking infuriating. The Ynnari were my first love in 40k. I can't tell you how long I've been looking for a (relatively) heroic death god. And they're fucking disintegrating in front of my eyes because the books written for them are shit, and their lore writers are too unimaginative to do anything with the concept, even though it's bursting with potential. The reason why I picked up Wild Rider in the first place was because I was so furious about the latest update to their lore in the recent aeldari codex release. Apparently, the Ynnari are starting to consider using the extinction of the aeldari to raise Ynnead. BUT THE WHOLE POINT OF THE FACTION IS TO AVOID THAT SPECIFIC SCENARIO! So I want to write a fic that does them justice, and I'm doing a lot of reading so I can get them right.

I have to admit, I was kinda ticked to get this notif in my inbox. "The aeldari are too vain to admit they've made mistakes, the Asuryani haven't changed at all since the Fall"--this is the kind of bullshit I'd hear all the time from simperium jackasses on r/grimdank who know nothing about the aeldari beyond "Fucking knife-ears!" You couldn't bring up anything about the aeldari without getting a cavalcade of shit about how much the knife-ears suck, how they're all good-for-nothing manipulators who murderfucked Slaanesh into existence and learned nothing from it. It's partly why I left the sub. I was tired of explaining basic lore over and over again to yahoos whose knowledge came solely from memes. Tumblr felt like a refuge in comparison. Yet here I am again, explaining foundational, faction-defining for the millionth time. It never fucking ends.

Ok so Wild Rider is decent so far but for some reason the eldar refer to the necrons as necrontyr and it’s driving me up the wall

[masterfuldoodler]

girlbossed too hard.... unless...

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

anyone else think it's insane that folie a deux -- which literally means "the shared delusions of two"-- opens with "I'm coming apart at the seams/Pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams"

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

obsessed with their different reactions to being called starcrossed lovers

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

i am confusing kali and durga but you did make design of fgo her right? can i ask you to repost it bc i scoured your archive and i still cant find it

It was kali! The actual post is here but I’ll post some of the pictures here as well

I’ve been planing on doing proper ascension-like art for her for a while now, just haven’t found the time between work and making my normal content for the blog ;v;

[cocoabubbelle-newblog]

Do current Marvel Writers hate Professor Xavier or something?

[anachronistic-falsehood]

oh my god dude. sorry i'm gonna have a homestuck interlude to classpect qpac and his role in the narrative because i'm thinking about him

he's. SO Page of Hope coded. he's so page of hope fr. his class being a Page makes so much sense because throughout homestuck, every single Page are all people pleasers. they're walking doormats who rarely stand up for themselves. they feel like they can't do anything right, so they sit down and shut up half the time so they don't do anything wrong. and his aspect being Hope makes so much sense because like. Hope is about optimism and doing right for right's sake and helping those who are down. he holds optimism as his greatest shield even when things are crumbling around him. it's so important to him!!!!

but also being a Page means that he lacks his aspect in a way, and his journey will be long and arduous before he can see the fruits of his labour, and when his efforts pay off, MAN it will pay off. there are so many times when he has just seemed to have completely given up hope. he's been broken down again and again and again and you can see the peak of that during the risus pills arc, when he was so out of it he was actively suicidal. but somehow he keeps bouncing back!!! he found the cure anyway, he left it for Cellbit, the guy he's terrified of, and he saved himself and Forever. he will step between something that scares him and something he wants to protect even as he cries and shakes and sniffles the whole time.

the thing about Pages is that it takes a long time for them to reach their full potential, and there will be so many bumps in the road before he even comes close. but when a Page finds that potential, they can be one of the most helpful, powerful, and dangerous members of their session. Pac is an extremely useful member of the server, he's extremely skilled, he just doesn't see it, and he can't reach his full potential as a Page until he can recognize his own accomplishments. the only problem is that when Pages reach their full potential, they have a tendency of dying right away. when Jake faces Aranea in Game Over, when Tavros stands up to Vriska, they both die almost immediately.

Pac and Jake "yes and" everything because they don't want to be a burden, and Pac and Tavros don't know how to face the people who traumatized them. the inaction of Jake and Tavros is what ultimately leads to their deaths at the hands of the Light players who hurt and manipulated them. (coincidentally, i also see Cellbit as a Light player, a Prince or Bard of Light, but that's for another post!!!) Tavros didn't stand up to Vriska sooner, Jake couldn't say no to Aranea, and Pac folds as soon as Cellbit, one of his greatest fears, is in front of him with a knife.

Tavros and Jake forgive people who hurt them no matter what they've done. Pac has faced his own Light Player and died multiple times at his hands in both Purgatories, and now after a brief interrupted apology, they're supposedly just fine. Cellbit doesn't mean to be, but he is Pac's own personal Serket.

the difference with Pac though is that he is like if Jake or Tavros got a well-rounded continuation to their character arcs. his story isn't done!! it's still going!! he's getting there!!! he's getting more confident, he has support from the people around him, and i think eventually he can break this doomed-by-the-narrative cycle that fully fledged Pages seem to have.

[mechahero]

Lambda's currently sat at his desk, hunched in front of his computer, feverishly typing away.

"Who the heck does this person think they are? I can't believe someone would be this dumb.", he grumbles, mostly to himself as he was the only one in the room. (And because Skip was asleep elsewhere.)

/

[cybercds]: no way. bloodstorm 2: blood will rain is a TERRIBLE sequel. it was so rushed out and it sooo shows. half the maps are ugly or are so bright it hurts to look at, only 3 of the weapons actually right!

[cybercds]: *work

[cybercds]: and on top of that, theres the fricking rocket+ ice feet glitch combo that you have to deal with the entire game that just ruins the gameplay! its not even bad in the fun way. why would you ever wanna play it when bloodstorm 1 is right there?

[cybercds]: and don't even get me started on the story! its so bad bc of the rush to get it out and i really, REALLY hate the reveal of the vampires' creators being aliens. it literally doesnt make any sense especially since 2 is supposed to be connected to the lore of the first game and in the 1st game it was established that the vampires were made by demons! like what even????

/

He pauses, interlacing his fingers as he waits for a response. Not a minute later before ding! His eyes scan over the screen and hangs his head with a sigh.

It was going to be a long night.

[hauntingblue]

That batman jukebox musical tik tok made me thing about how mama would be a great song for jason dying in the warehouse

[ieatwormsandtheytasteverygood]

And remember: "to evil end shall all things turn that they begin well"

It never ceases to amuse me that Feanor’s narrative arc ends like THAT.

like this guy is built up to be a genius in 2384739847 different ways, charismatic as fuck, insanely spiritually powerful, made the magical artifacts the book is named after, he’s got Sexy Protagonist Energy for days, you’re only like a few chapters into the actual story of the Silmarillion, so you’re like “yeah, alright, this guy’s our guy, i can’t wait to see what crazy shit he gets up to in Middle-earth, what kind of character development he has–”

and then he gets to Beleriand, tries to fight Satan, and IMMEDIATELY dies. like. Battle #1. he beefs it. literally spontaneously combusts.

AND YOU STILL HAVE MOST OF THE REST OF THE BOOK LEFT. absolutely ICONIC of tolkien to kill his main character in the first third of the story, and then despite elves being able to return from the dead, he literally never does, not even post-canon. NO ONE ELSE CAN PULL THAT OFF. this is SUCH a power move.

….on a more serious note, Feanor’s decisions and motivations leave a huge impact on every other character, almost every other plot point in the entire story can be traced back to what he did, and killing him off not only increases his narrative importance to those he left behind but also makes it impossible for any character to actually confront him or reconcile with him. he’s a ghost throughout the whole rest of the story, but he’s haunting everyone in myriad ways, through the Oath, through the Silmarils, through his sons, through the repercussions of the First Kinslaying, through the unrest of the Noldor and the rebellion against the Valar, through everything.

So like. Feanor might die as soon as he sets foot in Beleriand, which is hilarious from a narrative standpoint - but only at first glance. Because he’s still there for the rest of the story. You can’t escape him, no matter how hard you try.

[dreamerzclvbz]

she was as me as i was her, as alike as we were different, the same and yet not at all. she was my sister, and i hers. i was her mother, and she my daughter. she was my light as well as my dark. i was her prison and i never wanted to let her go. i hope she comes to adore the sunlight reflecting off the sea.

i am far fonder of you than you could possibly know