#early belief

[thesilicontribesman]

Eassie Pictish Symbol Stone, Eassie, Scotland

[suntails]

strength and nobility

[chalkrub]

vega my best friend vega

[ghost-bxrd]

Is Jason struggling hard trying to deal with envy that Tim has taken his family, his place in the court, his dragon? Of course, but at the end of the day Tim never owed Jason’s memory any respect or loyalty. But the egg he stayed up late whispering his hopes and notions of friendship and happiness and protection, patient and gentle for years, despite everyone telling him it was a lost cause. His egg –now a dragon– has forsaken the only person to dedicate themself wholeheartedly to its safekeeping. So Jason might eventually get to a point of understanding and tolerance with Tim but the little dragon must have felt him off in the distance and given up on him. It is the only way the pieces fit together. How can Jason accept that? He never faltered in his belief in his egg but as soon as he seemed weak it discarded him for someone easier to love.

It certainly seems that way to Jason, yeah :/

(Jason has no way of knowing that Robin hatched only a few weeks after his perceived death, and that the little dragon was inconsolable for many months to the point of near starvation, and that Dick and Bruce were so wrung out about Robin’s impending loss that Tim snuck into the dragon caves to try and coax the baby dragon to eat something, and that Robin didn’t just latch onto the first best person he saw, no, Robin felt that Tim came the closest to Jason’s kindness and uplifting spirits for the first time in months….)

[bamsara]

maybe a weird/selfish question/request but have you considered maybe dropping fic updates on patreon when you’re comfortable? stuff like Solar Lunacy or whatever you might feel like doin, or would that still feel too tense for you? i understand if so!

I'm sorry but I can't do that for reasons even outside of my comfort zone! I'm not sure about other countries, but in mine fanwriting and fanart have different grey areas when it comes legality: fanart is more greenlight than fanwriting is. Plus i'm a very firm believer of not having fanfiction being put behind a paywall

[rosalinesurvived]

Kunikidazai is a galaxy-brain ship obvs but but i need a fresh out of the PM Dazai viewing Kunikida as like the Ultimate CumulationTM of both Oda and Chuuya, the people who loved him, one Dazai left and the other who left first, I need Kunikida terrified of Dazai not because of any PM suspicions but because Dazai’s everything Kuni could be if he skewed to the right: the sucide obsession, the dangerous morality, the lost ideals, the general bizarreness–what puts Kuni off of Dazai is that he’s everything like Kuni and at the same time nothing like him, surely and that has to Fuck You Up, being stuck with your distorted image day in and day out.

“You are everything I could have had,” Dazai thinks towards Kunikida

“You are all of the horrors I could become,” Kunikida thinks of Dazai

[verycharismaticdragon]

One popular scum villain take i've seen that i completely disagree with is that Luo Binghe is aware that SY!SQQ and SJ!SQQ are two different ppl. (obviously this is talking about canon, not divergence au situations where smth happens that tips him otherwise.) Not only do I think he doesn't know this, I think that a number of his "irrational' actions post-Abyss are informed by believing SQQ went from hurting him to being nice to / accepting of him once before already.

[shardpencil]

god wouldn't it be interesting...if they worked it out on the top of Urithiru on the tenth day? 😏

[theartthatleavesthemark]

this post probably exists out there somewhere but. you know the book la galatea? the one Flint leaves for Miranda in 2x3? uhh well it was written by Cervantes the man most well known for creating the patron saint of lost causes (don quixote) but that isnt even the most insane part this book was a collection of pastoral poems loosely wedged into a narrative now, what were these poems about you may ask? well, pastoral stories for those of you who do not know are about love specifically they are about overpowering love making people do insane things and many of these stories in this book end either in tragedy or very ambiguously. essentially the love was there but it didnt change the ending. now the frame these tales are set in? well, THAT is the story of two gentleman, one of noble birth named Elicio and one of low birth who is nonetheless quite well-spoken named Erastro (sound familiar?) who are both in love with the same woman (the titular galatea). they agree that their shared love will never interfere with their friendship. now if you, like me, are throwing objects at the walls at this point, wait for the best part: la galatea is UNFINISHED. Cervantes wrote only part 1 and IN DON QUIXOTE there is a scene in which part one is BURNED and a character comments that it will never be any good without a second half. which he never wrote.

[thesilicontribesman]

Replica of the Monymusk Reliquary, circa 8th Century CE, Arbroath Abbey, Angus, Scotland

[hephaestuscrew]

In Ep55 A Place for Everything, when Minkowski thinks Kepler is doubting the likelihood of Eiffel still being alive after he's floated towards the star in his spacesuit, Minkowski says "Eiffel had plenty of air left, and let's not forget he survived for -" It seems pretty likely that she was about to say that Eiffel survived nearly 200 days stranded in deep space on Lovelace's shuttle. It's interesting to me that Minkowski uses that incident as evidence that Eiffel will survive this time too, because that's not really how situations like that work.

We don't know exactly how much Minkowski knows about Eiffel's time on Lovelace's shuttle, but the reality is that he survived for those 193 days due to an extremely specific combination of impressive ingenuity, incredible perseverance, access to the right resources, a fair dose of stupidity, and an extraordinary amount of sheer luck. Without just one of those ingredients, he would never have made back to the Hephaestus alive. The ingenuity and perseverance could serve him well in this situation too, but the other factors don't exactly apply in the same way.

In my view, it isn't really that Eiffel's survival on that shuttle serves as evidence of any specific attributes that will guarantee his survival this time. I think it's more that the events with Lovelace's shuttle - Minkowski thinking Eiffel was gone forever but then being miraculously reunited with him - have given Minkowski a non-specific sense of Eiffel as a person who survives, a person who ends up in nearly inescapable peril and yet somehow always escapes, a person who makes it back alive against all the odds. It's not a piece of logical practical evidence. It's just an emotional instinct that allows her to believe that she's not going to lose him, allowing her to focus on what she can do to try and find him.

Minkowski's 'Goddamn it Eiffel' when he floats towards the star in Ep53 is so much less dramatic than the way she yells his name as the shuttle drifts away in Ep28. And that's partly about what the story calls for in those moments. And it's partly about the specific situations and the agency Eiffel has had in them. But it's also that in Ep53 she already believes that he will be okay, that he'll come back. He's done it before. He'll do it again.

[bookshelfdreams]

americans learn what the middle ages are challenge

[swordmaid]

this convo hitting so different if ur a lolth drow like minthara

[whogirl42]

Is it bad that my first thought after total shock seeing that Alicole scene was man, that'll be great to use for Rhaenicent manips?

[angelnumber27]

The whole aww he’s chasing/hitting you because he likes you thing that people teach young girls is so fuckin gross and backwards like “men hurt you when they like you” is a message we need to get rid of

[zeebreezin]

Wanted to write out the consequences (TM) of Shaw accidentally entering the wrong story arc & then having @the-dye-stained-socialite ‘s Elias accidentally drive him insane during their current plot line, sooo… short Drabble-y thing incoming.

There was stillness after Elias left the townhouse, a vague semblance of quiet. The taste of iron still lingered on Shaw’s lips, his heartbeat heavy in his ears. He watched Elias’s departure with an unfocused look in his eye, before Shaw’s gaze settled on nothing at all.

Despite being well and truly awake now (wasn’t he?), crimson visions still felt more tangible than reality. It had been months since that night had been so clear in his mind. The cobblestone streets, the screaming. She was trying to apologize, wasn’t she? Shaw couldn’t remember why anymore. All he could recall was the sensation of blood coating his hands through a filthy handkerchief as his daughter bled out on the street. There was so much blood.

So much red.

He was bleeding now (no, he couldn’t be.), a stab wound oozing from his side. Elias’s hands had trailed the blood across his form. A half dozen handprints and stains, brushed across his forehead, his hair, his hands. At least, that was what his bedroom mirror showed. (None of that was real. At least, not here.) Shaw couldn’t pull his eyes away from his reflection, watching unseen hands smear crimson even further. (He made a terrible mistake.) He couldn't feel much of anything, either. (It was agonizing.)

Shaw had known there would be consequences, of course. At the time he hadn’t cared. Chessboard be damned, for those he cared for, he would do what he could. He tried to hold onto that conviction, but it was quickly swallowed under the pain. (Why her? Dear god, why is it always her?)

He watched a phantom hand brush a loc of his hair back, unblinking. It was difficult to find a thought that wasn’t smothered in the pain of the past or intoxicating carmine. (Shaw was screaming, somewhere.) There were tears budding in his eyes. He wanted so badly to believe that it was a mistake. That it wasn’t Elias’s fault. They wouldn’t do this to him. Not knowingly, not willingly. He wanted to believe that very, very badly.

Something else was leaving him, too. Flowing freely from the wound in his chest, trailing towards the mirror’s edge. Something important. (Let it stop.) It didn’t feel like other times where Shaw’s mind faltered, the sudden slip behind the mirror in a flash of mania and cosmongone-gold. His reason was being bled out of him, sanity spilling onto the hardwood floor. The hands were more physical, now, as they painted his throat in red. (He would do anything, now. Just make it stop.)

It was a slow and exquisite torture, lulled (dragged.) into madness by bloodsoaked hands, too locked inside his own memories to fight back. But there was nothing he could do anymore, was there? Queen takes rook. He slips away. With any luck, another could finish the game in his stead. With any luck, they could save them.

The sensation of finally falling through glass was almost a mercy, when it registered. Shaw wouldn’t be home for a very long time.