#i struggle to accept this even though i literally wrote him this way

[deathricedrawn]

big wide open galaxy

here's my thought process on this drawing... i wrote this in google docs... I hope this is coherent lol:

I am very normal about Andromeda (the song, the constellation, the galaxy, the myth…), if you haven’t noticed already. My love for Andromeda is why I’m doing a bachelor in physics and astronomy (my course is kicking my ass but we stay balling)

I think Andromeda as a concept fits Anya very well. As the myth, Andromeda is chained to a rock as a sacrifice to save her parents’ kingdom. However, it is Perseus who comes along and unchains Andromeda and takes her as his wife. A common critique of the myth is that it’s very much centered around the male gaze: Andromeda is basically a submissive trophy wife for Perseus as a symbol of his bravery. Really, Andromeda has no say in the matter. I feel like there’s a lot of ways you can tie this to Jimmy and Anya, though I’m struggling to come up with the words for it.

Later on, Andromeda is put into the stars as the constellation by Athena. There’s a lot of different reasons as to why this is, but a commonly accepted one is that it’s to commemorate Perseus’s brave deeds. Once again, Andromeda is reduced to Perseus’s acts, even in her death/eternal life in the stars. This, I feel, is fitting: Anya died as a result of what Jimmy did to her. Her death is, in part, defined by Jimmy, similar to how Andromeda is defined by Perseus. Aside from that, just like Andromeda, once Anya dies, she too is put into the stars but in a much more literal sense. Her final resting place is literally in space. 

This also ties in as to why I think Andromeda (the galaxy) fits Anya. Currently, the Andromeda Galaxy is set to collide with our Milky Way Galaxy in 4-5 billion years. This can be tied to the crashing of the Tulpar, but, obviously, in a much smaller time frame. Jimmy’s reason for crashing the Tulpar is, ultimately, because of Anya. He feared the repercussions of what he did to Anya once they returned home, so he chose to crash the ship and take everyone else on board down with him.

A deeper dive into my art: Anya’s pose is reminiscent of the pose the Andromeda constellation is in. Furthermore, she’s held by the wrists and ankles with red chains that resemble the centipede version of Polle. This aspect is meant to touch on the idea of Andromeda being dubbed ‘The Chained Woman’, but also as to why she (Anya, in this case) feels tied down. She feels chained by what Jimmy did to her, what she’s forced to live with, and the fact she can’t feasibly escape through any means other than death. She’s chained by her pregnancy too, which explains the Polle motif.

I depicted her skin as pale and glowing. This is to mimic the brightness of a star (tying her to both the Andromeda constellation and Galaxy). Her expression is mostly neutral, though it bears traces of sadness and acceptance (you can make of that what you wish). In the background, the space is filled with eyeballs reminiscent of Curly’s. These are meant to be stand-ins for space debris, or planets. It’s meant to represent how Curly, even as she neared death, was a big part of Anya’s life on the Tulpar. She took care of him after the crash and she died next to him. The space background behind her was also meant to be similar to a womb with Anya taking the place of a fetus, next to just being there for framing and contrast purposes.

[primofate]

You are the embodiment of fairness...

is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.

The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.

The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.

"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.

"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.

"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"

You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.

Working hours.

As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.

"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"

and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.

"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.

"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."

One second.

Two.

Three seconds.

Four.

The crowd started to bristle a little.

At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.

At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"

Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.

"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.

"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"

The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.

You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.

Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.

"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"

The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.

Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!

Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!

[thedemoninme141]

Operation Oreo

Wrote this cause @ortegalvr and @cobaltperun inspired me a little. Never thought I would write fluff.

Summary: A jealous Wednesday buys you Oreos...

It had taken an hour of pleading, sweet-talking, and even a few light-hearted bribes, but you’d finally managed to get Wednesday to agree to go with you to the carnival. She was by your side now, looking as out of place as ever in her all-black attire, her expression one of deep displeasure.

Wednesday scanned the surroundings with a sharp gaze, her mind undoubtedly filled with thoughts of a million better things she could be doing. The only reason she hadn't slipped away into the shadows was because of you. Her loyalty, or perhaps something more, kept her grounded. Still, she was just about ready to tell you that she was leaving when a lanky boy from Ajax’s group approached.

"Hey, I got these for you," the boy said, holding out a open packet of Oreos. "I remember you mentioned these were your favorite."

You blinked in pleasant surprise, smiling as you accepted one from the packet. "Thank you! That's really thoughtful."

You laughed at something he said, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed. She wasn’t entirely sure if Oreos were your favorite, though she was mildly annoyed at herself for not knowing. But any regret she felt was quickly overshadowed by a surge of jealousy as she watched the boy inch closer to you, clearly enjoying your attention a bit too much for her liking.

Without a word, Wednesday turned on her heel and strode through the crowd, her eyes locking onto Enid, who was in line for food. The werewolf was balancing a tray of snacks when Wednesday grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the line.

“Wednesday! What gives? I’m going to lose my spot!” Enid complained, nearly dropping everything as she was dragged along.

“Where can I find a carton of Oreos?” Wednesday asked, her tone flat but her eyes flashing with an emotion Enid struggled to decipher.

Enid’s confusion only lasted a moment before she spotted the boy sharing his Oreos with you and your smile. A grin spread across her face as she pieced it together. “Ohhh, I see what this is about. Wednesday Addams, jealous? I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice was a warning, cold enough to shut Enid up, but not before she couldn’t resist teasing her one last time.

"Don't worry, Ajax and I will help you with Operation Oreo."

The next thing you knew, you and Wednesday were sitting in the backseat of Ajax’s car as he drove, Enid beside him literally choking because it was too hard to hold the laughter inside.

Enid had practically shoved you inside. The car was crammed with packs of Oreos, a ridiculous amount, so many that there was barely any room for the two of you to sit. The sight was so absurd that it took everything you had not to burst out laughing.

Wednesday, on the other hand, was staring intently out the window, refusing to meet your gaze. Her shoulders were tense, and you could see the faintest hint of pink on her pale cheeks.

You knew this gesture, this utterly nonsensical yet endearing over-the-top display, had been her way of staking a claim, of showing that she cared in her own peculiar way.

You reached over and gently touched her hand. “Wednesday…”

She turned to you, her eyes softening just a fraction. “He shouldn’t have given you those Oreos. It should've been me. I should have known they were your favorite.”

You finally let the giggle escape, your heart swelling with affection. “It’s okay. You know now, and you didn’t have to do all this.”

Wednesday frowned, glancing around at the mountains of cookies surrounding you both. “Perhaps it was… excessive.”

“Maybe a little,” you teased lightly. “But it’s the thought that counts. I love that you’d do something like this for me, Wednesday. It means a lot.”

“Let’s never speak of this again,” she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

You nodded, still holding back your laughter. “Agreed.”

Some Oreos between you two crumbled in their packets as you moved closer to her to put your head on her shoulder, who cares about broken Oreos? You like KitKats more anyway.

[ Author's note: Its been exactly one year since Celine left. Its been a rough year old friend, I miss exploring the lands between with you.]

Our other works are here.

[senseandaccountability]

the healer has the bloodiest hands

I wrote some thoughts after the finale of Veilguard. Solavellan heavy.

This is just me, parsing through some feelings. "My people had a saying long ago -'The healer has the bloodiest hands'. You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. You cannot heal pain by hiding it. You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better."  Solas to Thom Rainer in DAI.  ***

One can wonder, of course, what Mythal has to do with a Solavellan reunion and Solas’s choice to become the Veil’s protector, but hear me out. 

It is significant that it’s Mythal because she is the embodiment of his terrible past, the epitome of their brilliance and boldness and good intentions turned to terrible truths. The horrors they did, they did together. It is significant that it’s Mythal that sets him on this new course by removing the chains of his guilt and regret. Lavellan can’t do that, she didn’t forge them. Solas’s journey as the Dread Wolf begins and ends with Mythal. 

Mythal literally pulls Solas out of the Fade to use his wisdom, first to not lose herself to the other gods' vanity and brutality, then to gain advantage against them in an endless power struggle that breaks them both, I’d argue, though most significantly it breaks Solas. Retribution and revenge has no room for understanding, there is no wisdom in conquering. And Solas, for all his faults, isn’t brutal or cruel, doesn’t want power for his own gain. Instead he’s wise and creative, doomed to see the faults of his actions even as he carries them out, arguing in vain that the Evanuris too must see it - don’t cross these lines, don’t do it like this, don’t warp and twist your powers to forces of destruction. You must know this is madness! He objects to the creation of the bodies for the ancient elves, objects his own People’s physical creation. Did the earth not shake? It did, it was horrific and it was wrong and he knows this and it doesn’t matter. What he wants has never been part of the equation. 

Even when he breaks free from Mythal, when he burns her mark off his face, he never stops fighting for the world she once wanted. Because otherwise? Should he stop? Then all that he has done, all that he has given up, all that has been demanded of him both as Mythal’s lapdog and the Dread Wolf, leader of the rebel armies for centuries, cloaked in a persona of strategy and battle orders - all of that has been for nothing. He has made a ruin of himself, of the world, for nothing.  So he begins again, he picks up the pieces, he swears to make it right, to fix what he broke. That’s how he perceives healing, that’s what he thinks he is doing. But you cannot heal pain by hiding it. That’s why the Crossroads are falling apart with the manifestations of Solas’s greatest regrets, that’s why he needs Rook to escape his own prison, that’s why a Regret demon burns through Skyhold.

Solas traps the Evanuris as a final act of the ancient times, the creation of the Veil an embodiment of everything he and Mythal ever were - protection, benevolence, retribution, wisdom, pride. He ties it to the blood of the Firstborn out of spite and anger and it wrecks the world in ways he could not foresee. In ways he cannot fix because you cannot fix what has already happened.

You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better. He holds himself like a broken thing in front of Mythal and you can see it as submissive or as a man finally letting his grief out. There, at long last, he stands beaten and bloodied and blighted and he cries for all that was lost, all that he did and all that was done to him, all the things he cannot, cannot undo. And then: a new way forward.

In willingly binding himself to the Veil he embodies the best of those old myths, the All-Mother and the Breaker of Chains, as he breaks the cycle of punishment and grief and protects the sun and the moon. This oath, as opposed to the oaths of the empire that made him, is not to someone but to everyone, to all the innocents of the world. Instead of being the one who makes the terrible sacrifices of other people - the things I have done - he becomes the protector of the world that his people broke once upon a time. Instead of being the Creator of a new world without the Veil - the god he vehemently does not want to be, that he arguably thinks nobody should be - he becomes a caretaker, a guardian. A healer with bloody hands. And yes, it takes Mythal to break Mythal’s hold over him. You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. And this one goes deep.  But it’s Lavellan who brings him the light in this story. It’s Lavellan who breaks through the dark, transforms it into something hopeful. 

His prison construct in the Fade was terrible, an abyss of regret made to hold a god. An ancient punishment for ancient crimes but times change, people change, the People change for better and for worse and here Lavellan stands in all her mortal imperfection, offering him not a way to change the past - where all these ancient beings are stuck - but a way to mend the future. It will be a terrible place, he tells her, saying I am terrible because the Fade shifts around our beings. It won’t be terrible, Lavellan argues. Because I’m there with you, walking the dinan’shiral with you, all the way. He doesn't have to fix anything first, he doesn't have to change for her, he just needs to stop hurting the world, hurting himself. Because she loves him, despite all the terrible mistakes he has made. Because she knows all his names, from Dread Wolf to Vhenan, she knows the power of his mind and the fires of his love and she saw more than most of the man he is. The man he wants to be. For a little slice of time there in Skyhold he was that man, he was seen and he saw. He saw the world filtered through her and could forgive it, he saw her through his own ancient, tired eyes and he fell in love no matter how much he thought he did not deserve it. You don't have to deserve love, or mercy, it doesn't demand anything in return, holds you to no oath. It is a gift, freely given. That's what Lavellan offers him by holding out her hand there, at the edge of everything. That's where the light slips in.

She’s real, which means everyone is real and she changes everything, because she can.  Ar lasa mala revas. 

[leighsartworks216]

Lap Dog

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 2 am. Can I not keep getting the best inspiration/motivation at the absolute worst hours??

Inspired by my own post

Warnings: violence, guns, threats, kissing, biting, hair-pulling, cuddling, literal sleeping together, no smut, fluffy ending

Word Count: 1,600 (oooh nice)

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The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Updated)

Two knocks sound on the door, but there is no pause before it opens. All conversation dies. The black market Protocore dealer and his two lackeys are silent as they watch you enter.

Your attire is casual, if not a bit tantalizing. One of Sylus’s shirts hangs loosely on your frame, partially unbuttoned. Shorts hidden beneath give the impression of nudity. And to top it all off, a gun is very visibly strapped to your thigh.

They all stare, baffled at the entrance of Sylus’s infamous bodyguard. The discrepancy of the horror stories detailing your ruthlessness and capabilities and the soft, lazy way you pad across the floor to settle directly into Sylus’s lap. It’s harder to take you seriously, if anything.

Sylus smirks, naturally, always accepting any affection you feel he’s worthy of. His hand slips under the loose edge of the shirt to hold your waist, his touch warm and protective. You wrap an arm around his neck, the other resting its hand on his chest. Your head leans on his shoulder, eyes closed. You don’t seem to give a damn about the state of affairs you’ve just barged in on. The client can’t say anything about it, though; this is the Onychinus leader’s home, he can’t disrespect that.

Sylus tilts his head nonchalantly, like nothing ever happened, like the only thing interrupting the meeting was the client’s own self-imposed silence. “You were saying…?”

The dealer balks for a moment. He looks between you and the man he came to do business with. After a beat of silence, where he struggled to grasp onto the threads of the conversation, you open your eyes to glare at him, not even bothering to turn your head. It’s sharp. A warning. Speak, or else.

He clears his throat. “O-Of course, sir. As I was saying, I was able to get my hands on some rare variants of pearl and violet Protocores. They’ve been examined by our lead scientists, and it seems they are highly receptive to alterations.”

“Did you bring any with you, or do I just have to truth your word?” Sylus questions.

“I brought one along,” the man quickly reassures. Your face turns to watch him as he gestures for one of the henchmen to bring forward a steel briefcase, setting it on the rich wooden desk. He clicks the latches open and lifts a tube out with both hands. Floating within the glass is a spiky violet Protocore. “This is one of the weaker ones, of course. It’s bad business to bring the best product to the first meeting.” He holds it out to Sylus with both hands. When the leader gestures for him to bring it closer, he carefully rounds the desk to present it up close.

You squint your eyes at the crystal for a moment. In one swift motion, you pull your gun from its holster and point it at the man’s face. He nearly drops the container in shock. Instead, he clutches it to his chest, staring down the barrel of the gun.

Sylus tsks. “Black market salesmen, always claiming they can scrounge up the best of the best, only to fall short.”

The lackeys reach for their guns. One draws and aims at you. The other hesitates, hand hovering over his holster. The dealer takes a step back.

“Wha- Call off your guard dog!” he pleads.

“Why should I? They’ve just sniffed out a liar. I’m inclined to reward them with a little treat,” he muses. “Feel up to hunting, sweetie?”

You don’t answer.

“No! P-please I-! These are the real deal, I swear!”

Your gun moves from his face to his henchmen. Before the armed lackey can fire, you shoot first. The bullet rips through his hand, traveling up his stiff arm and lodging itself firmly in his elbow. He screams in agony as his gun clatters to the ground, reduced to his knees beside it as he clutches his injuries to his chest. The other one lifts his hands up in surrender, not wishing to further test your ire.

“Was it all a lie, I wonder?”

The gun returns to aim directly at him. He drops the tube, glass shattering on the floor, to cover his face with both hands as though it would save him if you pulled the trigger. “Wait! Wait! I know where I can get the Protocores!”

Sylus hmphs. “Heel.”

You obey immediately, returning the gun to your holster. The dealer uncovers his eyes to watch as you lean yourself back against Sylus’s chest, face resting against his neck and eyes closed, as if you were tired of threatening him.

It doesn’t put the man at ease at all.

“Then go fetch them,” Sylus demands. “Two days. If you try to run away or return empty handed, I guarantee you a fate worse than death.”

The man gaped, slack jawed. His hands twisted his tie anxiously. “Two days?! S-Sir that’s impossible!”

“That’s none of my concern.”

In all his years of selling to big-ticket bosses, cutting corners and swindling them outta their money, never had he been so blatantly dropped at Death’s doorstep. And now here he was, unsure if he should scream or cry, or beg for a quick death from the two Grim Reapers that decided his fate.

So he was left staring at Sylus and his guard dog, hands shaking and throat choked up. It’s the second henchman who steps forward to grab his employer and associate, dragging them out of the office. They scurry down the halls, desperate to leave as soon as possible.

Sylus chuckles once they leave. You just sigh against his neck.

“They were boring.”

“Next time, I’ll let you deal with them as you please,” he promises. His voice is softer. No longer does it have the edge of intimidation and danger, the edges smoothed away with affection.

You hum, lazily accepting the offer.

Sylus’s free hand moves to your exposed thigh. He works diligently to remove the holster, undoing one strap at a time, until it slides free from your leg. Red and black tendrils carry it to the desk, resting it softly on the dark wood. He tenderly rubs at the indents in your skin from the leather, drawing a contented sigh from you.

“You should go back to bed, sweetie,” he coos. “You didn’t need to bother yourself with this.”

You shake your head languidly from side to side, nose running up his neck, his jaw, until it presses behind his ear. “It’s part of our deal. Wake me next time,” you whisper.

He closes his eyes, savoring the sound of your breaths, the hush of your voice.

When he first met you, you didn’t say a word. The auction house awed and feared you, just as they awed and feared him. Two terrible forces of nature. When he danced with you that night, you’d tapped on his shoulder to communicate - one for no, two for yes. It wasn’t until your fourth encounter, when he proposed an agreement, that he heard your voice.

“Our deal has been long since fulfilled,” he reminded you. He turned his head, nose brushing against your cheek. “Or would you like to upgrade our terms?”

You breathe long and slow against him, silent. He knows better than to accept it as an answer one way or the other, where most people would consider it an immediate dismissal.

“I want… to go back to bed.”

He chuckles, but complies with your request. He lifts you effortlessly as he stands, your faces still tucked close together as he navigates the mansion. He can just hear Luke and Kieran laughing to themselves downstairs.

He passes by your old room. It was where you stayed for the first several weeks of your employment, before you wordlessly began climbing into his bed. It was a grand compliment. You encroaching on his space like a stray cat, finally deciding he is worthy of your mere presence.

The door to his bedroom opens with his Evol. He nudges it closed when he enters. Your side of the bed is still unmade, blankets shoved down to the end. Mephisto paced playfully along his perch. No doubt that’s how you’d learned of his meeting.

He lays you down, but before he can stand back up and pull the blankets over you, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him in for an unhurried kiss. He supports himself with a hand beside your head as the other cups your cheek. It’s sweet as honey, stinging like a bee when you bite down on his lip. He groans softly, suppressed by another sweet kiss. Your nails scratch up the back of his neck. One hand tangles within the soft white locks.

And pulls.

His head follows the movement, lips forming a delighted smirk as he looks down at you through half-lidded eyes. You grin minutely as you release him. “Stay?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Your arms fall from his shoulders as you turn onto your side, facing his half of the bed. He stands up straight and goes back to his task of drawing the blankets back up around you. Even as you lay still, seemingly already fast asleep, he knows you’re listening intently as he disappears into the closet and changes into his sleepwear. You’re still awake when he slips into bed, and as he shifts to the middle. You slot yourself easily into his arms with a pleasant sound.

He falls asleep to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of your hand holding onto him.

[withleeknow]

minho and https://open.spotify.com/track/4gAIUEY7VkeiKQOPwIYaYb?si=oZNdDS-aTUm9V7bEycscDQ 🩷🩷

flower.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a teeny bit angsty?; minho's pov word count: 0.7k note: i am very sorry if this is bad i wrote most of this while half asleep so please forgive me kshdkfhsk

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

one day if a flower blooms in your heart would you be able to understand me?

Flower - DANIEL

minho has been up for a while now, just lying here with you as you snuggle close to him like you can't help but gravitate toward him even in your sleep. one of his hands slips under your shirt where he gently traces the smooth skin of your waist, careful not to rouse you from slumber.

he fails though. maybe a particular swipe of thumb over your body was too ticklish.

"you're so warm."

the words come out a little slurred, a little muffled from where your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, safe and sound on this chilly saturday morning. you stir awake for long enough just to say that, and before he knows it, you're off to dreamland once more, from where you probably won't return for at least another hour or so.

minho halts instantly. you're none the wiser, still sleeping peacefully with your soft breaths fanning his collarbones.

cold, mean, unwelcoming, standoffish, callous. you could name any synonym of these words and he's probably been called that before, by friends and by strangers alike. some of them didn't utter it with malicious intent, but rather it was only a passing comment said in a teasing manner, with a lightheartedness that they didn't think he would mind because, well, apparently he just didn't have enough heart to take it as anything other than a joke.

he's used to it, he's gotten numb to it. somewhere along the way, minho accepted that maybe his name is merely one of those synonyms. it's fine, it doesn't matter. he doesn't really mind it because at the end of the day, none of these people could ever be you.

you're the only person whose opinion he cares about. when all is said and done, he doesn't care if the rest of the world thinks cold and heartless, as long as you know who he is. you're the only thing that matters; everything else just simply... falls away.

he's always struggled with opening up, even if the person on the receiving end is you. it doesn't come naturally to him at all. minho was never raised to be openly affectionate, and it just isn't an inherent trait that he possesses. he's not the kind of guy that tells you he loves you every hour of every day, nor is he the type to smother you with gifts and kisses and grand gestures on a daily basis.

no, minho's love comes quietly, rooted in almost every mundane aspect of life that it's often easy to miss if you don't know where to look. his love comes in the form of packed lunches and home-cooked dinners, of a blanket draped over your form after you've fallen asleep at your desk while working on a project for work. of his hand holding tightly onto yours when you get overwhelmed in crowded places. of his eyes always looking at you as though you're the eighth wonder of the world and he'll never get tired of being mesmerized by you. of texts asking if you've eaten. of sporadic videos of soondoongdori simply sleeping or munching on treats, accompanied by no other message or explanation.

there's a million ways that minho cares for you; he doesn't have to shout it from the rooftops for you to know. you do know, and that's enough for the both of you.

but it's not until you uttered those simple words just now that minho realizes how much he needed to hear them out loud. he's well aware that you didn't mean it like that. you meant it quite literally, because sometimes he does run hot and you've always loved that. your personal human furnace to keep you nice and toasty whenever you wanted. he knows it and yet, he still lets the words wiggle their way inside his ribcage and make a home there. they settle somewhere beside his heart and mend something in him that he didn't notice was cracked and chipped, worn away after years and years of people telling him he was callous.

minho isn't sure how long he's been holding his breath, but the very second he inhales again, everything feels lighter, like he's finally leaving behind some of the weight that he's been carrying with him his whole life.

his fingers resume their ministrations on your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he holds you a little tighter, and everything feels like it's going to be okay.

even in your half-asleep state with your mind completely elsewhere, you still manage to take his breath away. maybe you really are the eighth wonder of the world after all.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 19.05.2024]

[sugar-grigri]

Yo! I wrote an analysis of 167 that you might be interested in. https://www.tumblr.com/lottimiqo/752646719530041344/when-are-people-going-to-start-noticing-that-denji

Thank you!!!!! I'm very flattered when people send me their analyses.

But I'd just like to make a few comments about what I've read!

It's vital to take each interpretation seriously, and I take yours seriously, as it explains Denji's initiative by analyzing his verbal behavior, which is a brilliant approach given that we're dealing with an almost silent chapter.

Just as you have to accept that I didn't read the chapter that way. And I think that our difference in reading can be explained by a crucial element, the fact that you rely on the second half of the chapter, deciding to base your analysis on a specific moment, whereas I always prefer to take a global view, sometimes even in an extreme way, by analyzing one chapter in relation to the others.

The 2 are equal, because a perfect understanding of an important moment is just as interesting when read as a whole. You'll prefer to clarify the analysis when I'll prefer to focus on the coherence of an entire work.

But to get back to the basics, there's something fundamental that I don't see taken into account very much in general: Denji doesn't know who he's kissing. What I mean is that even though the first kiss with Yoru was received positively and he undertook a second kiss, Denji thinks he has a relationship with Asa when he doesn't.

I know it's advisable to steer away from a literal reading when it comes to Asa / Yoru, and you're right to prefer a more metaphorical approach.

But even by a symbolic, metaphorical approach, the narrative consequence is completely different. For one wants to kill CSM, while the other wants to save him. Denji's embrace of the one who wishes to kill him is fundamentally strong in its contradiction. If it were Asa, the conclusion would be more logical and gentle.

Above all, you decide not to focus your analysis on the first part of the chapter, which I find fundamental. For the first chapter is expressly about Denji's desire to distance himself from his sexual appetite, and he has several non-verbal reactions.

Like placing his hand in front of his crotch!

Just as it's vital that the chapter opens with Denji wanting to mutilate himself, not wanting to see his limb severed, but also taken out in such a place, just as touched. In short, Denji expresses a clear desire at the beginning of the chapter not to suffer.

Just as Denji is anxious for the woman he thinks is Asa to see his dick, he's afraid of being mutilated. Intrusion and mutilation are placed on the same plane in this bubble.

Especially the first part gives a dimension of struggle between the two. The knife drops but Yoru violently grabs Denji's crotch. Yoru makes it explicit: I deny your feelings and the confrontation with CSM is all she's interested in.

I don't know if Denji really initiated the kiss. He's not bent over to do it, he's bent over because he's constantly hunched over and literally has his dick on borrowed time. The questioning around the kiss is on Yoru's side. For me, she's the one who initiates it.

She kisses him, pulls back abruptly as she realizes what she's done and looking back at Denji, feels like doing it again. She moves forward, backward and intensifies.

Just as we can analyze Denji's non-verbal behavior, his hands don't touch Yoru, he remains disturbed and overwhelmed by his sensations.

That's why, for me, this chapter is profoundly noisy in its silence, in its violence. Denji wants to get rid of his sexual appetite but he doesn't want to be mutilated, but Yoru decides to force him into his patterns. Just as it's when Denji is abused that Yoru remembers his kiss with him.

Because assaulting Denji pleases her. Perhaps because she has feelings for him through Asa, but also because she craves violence against Chainsaw Man.

The most logical conclusion to all this is sexual assault. A brutal compromise, reconciling hatred and unhealthy desire.

Denji never looks Yoru during the act, more often staring into space as if glued to the need to realize, but he's constantly caught short.

Denji is overwhelmed and his body no longer belongs to him. Yoru is hogging it. Just as Yoru is monopolizing Asa's.

Anyway, that's how I see it.

[moni-logues]

BDE

Pairing: Chan x gn.reader

Genre: pwp/smut but it's a little fluffy, established relationship

Summary: Chan tries to insist he has BDE when all he really has is a BD.

Word count: 2.1k

Content: Chan has a Big Dick, oral sex (m. receiving inc deep throat and choking), sexual activity in public toilets (but no one is around)

A/N: this started with, who else?, @minttangerines. I honestly don't even remember how the conversation started but then we were talking about a fic about Chan's Big Dick struggles lmao and this idea was born. That was weeks ago now and she finally wrote it. Thank you to Lia @quarter-life-crisis2 for reading this so late at night to reassure me it didn't suck balls.

*

“I don’t know about these, y’know...” 

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? You should have sized up!” 

“But I always get this size!” 

“And they’ve changed their sizing! I told you! And you didn’t listen so now you have to suffer.” 

You turned away from Chan and back to the mirror while he fussed, trying to adjust himself comfortably in his new boxer briefs that were, quite clearly, a little snug.  

“I don’t know if I can wear these,” Chan groaned, sitting heavily on the bed with his trousers unzipped.  

“You don’t own that suit; you cannot go commando. And I’m not letting you wear any of mine.” 

Chan groaned again, loudly aggrieved, and lay back on the bed.  

“Can’t believe I’m being hoisted by my own petard! Too much big dick energy!” he cried and you turned to deliver a withering look. 

“My darling, I am not sure you know what any of those words mean. You do not have BDE.” 

He was back upright in a flash. 

“What?! How can you say that?! We are literally having a conversation about how I don’t fit in my fucking pants right now.” 

“Having a big dick is not the same as having big dick energy?” You did not, before this moment, realise that your boyfriend was quite this stupid. It gave you second thoughts about the entire relationship.  

“It’s in the name? BIG DICK energy.” 

You gestured wildly, looking around the room as if there were anyone else there who could back you up. 

“Big Dick Energy. You might have a big dick-” 

“-I do, thank you ver-” 

“YES, fine! You do have a big dick, but that is not all that’s required. And I will neither accept nor tolerate your saying that it is.” 

“Putting me down in my time of strife. What a loveless relationship we have.” 

You give him an exaggerated wink and turned back to the mirror once more to apply your lipstick. 

* 

With no solution to his problem, Chan had no choice but to zip himself up, make himself presentable, and pray to the gods that the circulation to his dick wouldn’t get cut off. There are some losses no mere mortal could survive. 

“Stop fidgeting!” you hissed to him as he squirmed on the red carpet next to you.  

It was bright and overwhelming and you were reminded why you so infrequently accompanied him to these events. This time, though, he had been nominated for an award so you wouldn’t have dreamt of missing it. The camera flashes made your eyes hurt and the cacophony of paparazzi calls blurred into a singular, uninterpretable noise; it was like entering a completely inhuman world, where you were devoid of your usual senses, disoriented, out of place, and, were it not for Chan, completely untethered.  

This time, you were also distracted by his wriggling. 

“I can’t help it!” he hissed back. “I’m losing circulation down there, I swear!” 

“You’ll lose more than that if you keep touching your fucking dick on a red carpet!” 

He huffed but duly held still for the rest of the photos, shooting off into the toilets as soon as you got into the building.  

* 

He was uncomfortable. He could barely keep his hands away from his crotch. You noticed. You were sure other people also noticed. You were not sure that this was in any way good. You slipped one hand into his and pulled it into your lap. That didn’t stop him. The night was going to be long – already had been long and had so far left to go. You felt as though you were going to have to take things into your own hands. 

Not literally. 

Maybe literally. 

You leant over, your mouth close to his ear. 

“If you can leave yourself alone until the ceremony is over, I’ll make it worth your while,” you whispered, letting your lips just barely touch the hinge of his jaw before sitting back in your seat.  

He didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his Adam’s apple bob and he squeezed your hand tight. His free hand moved to the arm of the seat and stayed there.  

* 

“This counts, right?” he was asking before you were even out of the door. “It’s over?”  

He was pushing you gently, steering you into the nearest dark corner, and then pressing against you, his hands at your waist, his nose in your hair.  

“Have your boxers cut off the circulation to your brain, Chan?” You pushed him, a little less gently, backwards. “We are still in public! You really want me to suck you off right here?” You were whispering, eyes flicking beyond Chan’s head as more and more people filed out of the auditorium on their way to bars, after parties, bathrooms. 

“Honestly?” he asked, eyebrows raised, saying ‘yes’ without actually saying it.  

“I am not breaking public indecency laws for you.” 

“I’d do it for you!” 

“Oh, you’d go down on me here, would you?” 

He was genuinely lowering to his knees before you had finished the sentence and you scrambled to haul him to his feet, your face burning hot with embarrassment. 

“You’re incorrigible!”  

“No, baby, I am fucking desperate. Desperate to get these piece of shit boxers off me and your mouth on me.” 

You had promised him. So you wandered, as inconspicuously as possible, around to the other side of the building, to find some toilets that weren’t so busy. Rather, you were hoping for some that were empty.  

And you were in luck.  

“Shit, it’s my lucky night!” Chan whispered as you pushed open the last stall door, confirming that they were all empty.  

“Honey, you didn’t win the award and your underwear is slowly strangling your dick. What about that is lucky?” 

“First of all, rude. Second of all, in about one minute, I won’t even be able to remember my own name, let alone all that other stuff. Stop using your mouth to be smart and let me choke you.” 

You rolled your eyes and sank to your knees as he eliminated the space between you. He hesitated as he unzipped, then rolled his own eyes, stooping to kick off his shoes, take off his trousers and stretch, roll, and pull the offending underwear off, muttering all the while about how stupid they were and how much he hated them and the strongly worded email he’d be writing. Then he stood, naked from the waist down.  

“Oh yeah, you’re all BDE now. Y’know, Winnie the Pooh, he really fucks.”  

When Chan looked at you, you expected him to laugh or smirk or hell, roll his eyes back at you, but he didn’t. He just looked down with that dark intensity in his face, the one that said he wasn’t going to take it easy on you. He gestured with two fingers for you to come closer and you shuffled awkwardly on your knees. Then he traced your face with a featherlight touch. You reached your own hand up and used the same lightness as you ran your finger down his length.  

As his fingertips reached your jaw, he held you, his fingers starting to press, harder and harder as you opened your mouth wider. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip as he sank his teeth into his own. You stuck your tongue out to lick at his thumb as it passed and he nodded at you.  

He held you like that, mouth open, tongue out, looking up at him, as he took himself in his free hand, stiffening quickly, pumping slowly. He made you wait until the pre-cum was dripping from his head, until he was quietly huffing little satisfied groans, until you were shifting uncomfortably on your knees, your legs going numb, your stomach tightening with anticipation, your mouth watering—saliva flooding, making a mess of your clothes when you hadn’t even had a taste of him yet. You knew better than to ask, better than to protest. He’d only make you wait longer. Even though it was him who wanted this, who was ‘desperate’ for it, you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to make this a punishment for you.  

When you thought you would fall over, pass out, fling your hands into the air and grab hold of him, he nudged his hips forward, only the very tip of his dick touching your tongue. You lunged forward, wrapping your lips around him, expecting him to move backwards, to tease some more, to make you show him how patient you could be. 

He didn’t. He really was desperate. He let you take him to the hilt, eyes springing with tears when he hit your throat, those tears making tracks down your cheeks as you swallowed him, as you pushed until your nose hit his skin. 

“That’s right,” he sighed, his head tipping back, his fingers winding in your hair. “You fucking know- shit, you know how to do that right.”  

You did. When you first got together, he had very shyly confessed to you that he’d never come from a blowjob before, because people were intimidated by his size, because he was self-conscious of it, all too aware that it was too much for most. He never felt like he could ask for what he wanted, how he liked it, didn’t want to demand or pressure or make his partners feel uncomfortable. So he’d just  sucked it up and, eventually, gone without. It was ok, he had said with a light shrug; he didn’t really mind; he knew it was a lot. He had said many things that he had convinced himself were true. That he didn’t matter. Not really. That his partners shouldn’t try to make him feel good, that they shouldn’t work together to make all parts of sex a mutually enjoyable experience.  

But you weren’t easily intimidated. You were quickly and easily infatuated and then in love with a man so sweet, he spiked your blood sugar; a man so smart, he raised your IQ; a man so hot, he was targeted by climate change activists. And you were determined to show him what he had been missing. Determined to show him what he was worth. Determined to show him that no big dick was going to get in the way of you getting him all the way off, using just your mouth.  

He whimpered, the pitch of his voice tremulously high now, his dick leaping in your mouth so you gagged, choked a little, made him really feel the tight squeeze of your throat. He was whispering under his breath, swearing quickly, calling to god (as if he could help, as if he could do anything you couldn’t), breathing your name in a way that made you physically ache for him to fill you.  

You had this down to an art. You knew his every twitch and every hitch in his breath, could time, down to the second, when he was about to finish. Still bobbing up and down, drooling along his rigid length, you took his balls in one hand and squeezed, slowly and evenly, pressing and rubbing on his taint with the other. You felt the full-body shudder go through him and the gasp which always accompanied his release. You took it all, every drop, every time. 

Chan stood, his hands fallen from your hair, limp at his sides, his eyes closed, mouth open, breathing gradually evening out. You sat back and watched him. 

“I can’t believe I have to put those fucking boxers back on,” he said when his feet touched back down to earth.  

You laughed.  

“Don’t make me say ‘I told you so’ again.” 

You stumbled as you rose to your feet, your legs fizzing back to life and making you unsteady. Chan held you securely. 

“You know I like you a lot more with my dick in your mouth?” 

But he was smiling, dreamy-eyed, putting his warm, solid hands on your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. It was more than you had expected: not a peck, his lips firm against yours, opening slightly, the pressure as he sucked at your bottom lip making your knees go weak again. You smiled at him when he pulled back, dazed, a haze of love and lust swirling around you. 

You hummed lightly. 

“Well, if you’re a really good boy for the rest of the night, I’ll put it back there when we get home.” 

He grinned, smirked actually, and gave you another quick kiss. 

“Can’t resist my big dick energy, right?” 

Your face fell as his lifted into a shit-eating grin. You walked away, out of the toilets, leaving him scrambling to re-dress himself and come after you.  

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

The thing that haunts me about Neil Gaiman is that he's not just a good writer, I found him to be a very good writer about rape. If you didn't read or watch sandman, there's an issue about a struggling writer who acquires the Muse Calliope, who has been captured and bound. She was supposed to be wooed, and in return would give her inspiration freely, but now she is figuratively and literally raped. Over and over. The writer is rewarded for his actions with a very successful career spanning years if not decades, I forget. I think they included this little tidbit in the show but certainly in the comics as they're showing the span of his career there's a scene where he's having a party at the house where Calliope is literally imprisoned upstairs, and he's accepting praise for being such a good feminist and ally with his work.

It's just. I hope to God Neil Gaiman was just incredibly self-deluded. But I'm just haunted by the thought that he knew exactly who he was and what he was doing, and this was his little joke to himself. Like hiding in plain sight. I know I should probably refrain from making assumptions about his work like that. I'll never know what it was really about. But I just can't stop thinking about it. Particularly because he wrote the comic at the beginning of his career before he was Neil Gaiman TM, and he adapted the comic into a show towards the end of his career when he was already wildly successful. It's so disturbing. I thought it was such a beautiful and poetic way to talk about that topic.

He also talks about rape a second time in those comics, though it never got adapted on TV. He explicitly ties rape into empire and patriarchy in an issue centering around Caesar Augustus. As an oldish man, Augustus always has a storyteller right outside his room because he will often get nightmares and he wants someone there to distract him. By the end of the issue we learn that when he was a child/young teen, his Uncle Julius Caesar would come to his room at night and rape him. Augustus understood that he would be richily rewarded for keeping quiet and never said anything and did indeed go on to become the emperor.

I was so moved by this issue because even as the emperor of Rome, the man with the most power in his society, he still has nightmares so terrifying that he keeps his storyteller on retainer, decades after the fact. In the dark he's like a little boy again, his hurt never healed. I can't believe Neil Gaiman wrote that story and did what he did. It's such a mindfuck.

[lover-of-mine]

Top 5 most hilarious, ridiculous BT theories? 😂

I'm gonna give you my favorites in no particular order.

Ryliver is sleeping together. Why did this make the list? Well, 3 weeks ago I had people in my inbox telling me that Oliver and Lou are in love and Oliver is only going along to protect him from the buddie crazies, and that's why they're hiding Lou. Now Oliver is sleeping with Ryan and they are forcing the network to do what they want and conspiring to get Lou out. So like, which one is it? Is he with Ryan or Lou? Is he protecting him or trying to force him out? Can they pick a struggle? Probably not.

The what if episode without Eddie that's just buddie highlights with Eddie removed. The way they think that putting Buck in the same situations he's been with Eddie with an explicit love interest and having Buck have the same reaction helps them is hysterical. That would literally just further the idea that Buck is in love with Eddie, because if he has these reactions with someone he's romantically involved, then he has romantic feelings for Eddie. It's a very simple parallel they don't seem to understand. They also seemed to have forgotten that Tommy left the 118 before Buck joined so even without Eddie, it would not lead to bt. Also got me thinking "so you agree that buddie is romantic?" I would laugh if Tommy got shot tho, but don't you dare break the sanctity of the shooting.

That leads us to the "Tim only wrote Eddie so that he could bring Tommy in during season 7 and have him replace him." Somehow they think that they would write Eddie in to give his personality to some random character 6 seasons later because somehow, Tommy has been in the show longer in their heads, even though Hen Begins is 9 episodes after Eddie was introduced (I think they think that the begins episodes being earlier in the timeline means something it does not), so the spot was always meant to be Tommy's, Eddie was just a placeholder for Buck to kinda fall for but then choose Tommy so they then they could remove Eddie seamlessly. Doesn't make sense at all. I like that they admit that Buck is "kinda" in love with Eddie. Just a reminder that Ryan didn't audition, was brought in as a lead, and Eddie was written for him.

The Tommy is getting a spinoff week was also fun. I was legit rolling around on the floor with how much I was laughing. They had potential names. Plots. Buck was going to leave the 118. They were sending posters to Tim. They had the whole thing locked and loaded. And they kept talking about it like it was a sure thing for whatever reason. Highly entertaining. Was convinced they were rage baiting me until the spies confirmed they were in fact talking about a spinoff as if it was a done deal.

And boring but the invisible string thing. They somehow missed the way that Eddie was the one who restarted Buck's heart. That and the way that multiple people are on record saying that Lou was a last minute decision. And that he was brought in for Eddie. But sure, they absolutely took the time to pretend the relationship has been planned since season 2 when they changed it from Eddie to Buck mid filming the cruise. Totally happened.

Honorable mentions: the Chris has 3 dads and Tommy is somehow the better parent and the only one who can connect with him, and the Tommy is going to admit he was interested in Eddie, Eddie is going to admit he is interested in Tommy, Buck because he just loves them both so much is just going to accept being 50th choice.

[kradogsrats]

Here’s another question, what are your thoughts on Ezran? Since the fandom and I think he comes across as the least developed character of the main cast and no matter how hard he tries, it seems like he constantly has to learn that word won’t be enough to fully persuade an opposing side

I mean... Ezran's twelve. He decides what kind of king he wants to be when he's ten. When I was ten, I was reading a lot about historical atrocities because I couldn't quite wrap my head around the idea that people weren't all inherently good, deep down. Even if they were huge jerks on the surface, surely they'd do the right thing when it was really important, right? So I think he's sometimes just... thinking like a child. Because he literally is one.

We don't know what Harrow may have written to Ezran for after his death, but if we assume it's essentially the same as what he wrote to Callum (minus the cube stuff)—it's a lot of regret for Ezran to take on all at once. You can see in every word that Harrow wasn't proud of the king he had been, even though he started with the best intentions. He wanted to be a different king than his own father, to change Katolis and the world for the better, but he got caught up in the trap of history and its false narrative of strength. Ezran's obviously going to look to his father as his example for how to be king, and here's Harrow confessing that he wasn't the king he wanted to be, and wished he'd known the things he reveals in the letter earlier. So Ezran's takeaways are basically:

True strength is in vulnerability, forgiveness, and love

Reject the past and do not allow it to rule you

It's on you to make a brighter future

From before he's crowned, Ezran is struggling with how he will be king relative to Harrow. In The Royal Council, he literally worries that his choices are to reject and forget the father he loved, or doom himself to making all the same mistakes. As a result, he winds up going all-in on his interpretation of what Harrow wished he would have done.

Harrow wants him to create a brighter future, so not taking the throne at ten years old in the middle of an escalating inter-kingdom crisis would be "letting everyone down." As Soren later points out, this is kind of fucked up. ("If you spend all your time doing adult stuff now, you'll grow up weird, like your brother and Rayla," he says, while cheerfully engaging in the child-like attitude and behavior that his father denied him during his own childhood.)

True strength is vulnerability, so he never carries a weapon. Instead of accepting Harrow's sword to begin his rule, he has it forged into a new crown—something to honor both his father and his own commitment to strength not being about weapons and war.

Freedom is not letting the past define the future, so he holds a ceremony honoring Zubeia practically right next to the memorial to his own mother, who was killed by Zubeia's mate. He fully believes everyone wants the same thing that he does, deep down—a future of peace, free from old grudges and strife—and will join him in putting aside their grief and anger to achieve it.

He's essentially a product of having to mature too quickly in some areas, and having built his version of maturity on his father's example, while also holding on to a few developmentally-appropriate immature ways of seeing the world.

(In terms of development, I think they kind of shot themselves in the foot as far as making Ezran as relatable as Callum or Rayla, because he doesn't actually have anyone who's all that close to him. Soren, Corvus, and Opeli are much older than he is, and are really there for The King(tm), not scared or angry or grieving Ezran. He's literally never had a friend his own age. The only characters he could conceivably play off of in the deep and vulnerable way Callum and Rayla do with each other are Bait and Zym, neither of whom speak in a way the audience can comprehend. It's possible that they're finally setting up Aanya to fill that role with him, whether romantically or not. I definitely think she'll definitely be the one he can be conflicted and vulnerable about Runaan with in s7, since she's been in a very similar place. But yeah, because of all that he comes across as kind of removed from both the main cast and the audience.)

[tacticalrefrigerator]

For personal reasons im gonna ignore the last 10 ish minutes of season two episode 8. it's not canon its a fucked up fan fiction that someone wrote :)

⚠️Season two episode eight spoilers⚠️

Genuinely tho why the fuck did David Jenkins think that THAT was an appropriate send-off for izzy? To be a representation of the metaphorical death of blackbeard? That's it??? That's all he was in the end? His death taking blackbeard with him leaving just Edward?

My question is why couldn't he have lived and his "send off" be becoming Captain izzy hands aiding Zheng and company in revenge against prince ricky? He could have lived and taken on the role of "blackbeard" while leaving Ed and Stede to be innkeepers, that being the "death" of blackbeard. Or if Izzy had to die why couldn't the death of blackbeard be literal? Killing blackbeard and his first mate Izzy Hands, leaving not a trace of blackbeard leaving stede and company to either continue piracy or split up. I'll never be able to watch season two the same way knowing they, traumatized, abused, disabled, and grew Izzy all for him to die as a pawn for Ed's story. That was fucking soul crushing.

It wasn't even a character arc for Izzy, his own death. It was an obstacle for FUCKING ED. So everything leading up to this point, all of his growth, his acceptance within the crew as the unicorn, the abuse from Kraken!Blackbeard, the finding of himself, ALL OF THAT WAS FOR FUCKING NOTHING???

This character meant so much to me for so many reasons. He was an angry, traumatized man who was clinging to an ideal of someone who'd changed. As he grows as a character he realizes that Blackbeard doesn't exist anymore and what's left is Edward Teach, the man he fell for, his best friend. He realizes he's accepted by the crew of the revenge, and in turn realizes he's finally part of something again. His growth as an older queer disabled man from a hardened jerk who couldn't let go of blackbeard was beautiful to watch. And they cut it short. Izzy spoke to me as a character, watching him die in such an, undignified way killed me inside. I have very little in common with izzy yes. He's a 50 something heavily traumatized disabled man living in the (though not historically accurate) 1700's , im a queer, able bodied, teen from colorado in the 21st century who rants on tumblr for fun. But watching episode 6 in particular, knowing what he was in season 1, watching him fearful to be himself then be accepted beautifully when he started singing, accepted as their unicorn dressing in drag, performing during Calypso's birthday, It spoke to me. That process of being terrified of being yourself then finally finding the group that loves you for you. I related to that point in his story so much. I was and still in a sense am terrified of being myself. Im a weird little gay trans guy who's into weird niches. Seeing that struggle in a character and watching his acceptance resonated with me and meant the world and beyond to my little queer heart.

And another thing, Jenkins didn't even fucking tell Con that izzy would be killed when he signed onto ofmd 2. He broke the news halfway through FILMING. A character that meant that much to both Con and the fanbase was killed off to be nothing more than a CHARACTER ARC FOR EDWARD. And the actor who brought Izzy Hands to life was none the wiser until he'd already agreed to play Izzy again.

Now knowing that the story might go on without Izzy, without Con constantly reposting fanart of izzy, without his sass, without his vaguely nsfw quips. It makes the idea of season three less appetizing, for lack of a better word. Izzy was a key part of why i loved season 2 and was willing to excuse how rushed it was.

That's my 2 cents about that absolute bullshit ending to Izzy's story.

[dearweirdme]

why it so hard for you to accept that jungkook and tae couldn’t have a deep conversation? you don’t know these men, you probably frankly never will- you cannot say that they never felt like it based on the interpretation you have of their relationship when their words have told you otherwise. and how their distance cannot be true because it doesn’t align with your fantasies. it’s not only weird but boderline insane. you’re extremely obsessive and need a reality check. rather than accepting that these men want to share a story ab themselves and to show you you can mend relationships with people your close with and things aren’t always at it seems, you fight tooth and nail to convince yourself and others that it’s not real. it’s funny because it seems that when tae was struggling with his mental health that’s exactly when their relationship took a hit- he became closed off because of it even so that jungkook noticed and wrote it to him in their 2020 festa in which he told tae to reach out to someone- literally anyone because he knew he wasn’t that person. you denying this is denying that tae did ultimately go through something, something that the entire fandom had noticed and rather than accepting it and acknowledging the fact that mental health does it fact cause strains on person relationships you act the way you do. like a delusional person. relationships can change find a way to accept that or unstan tae. they’re not pawns for a story u chose to create to comfort yourself, they’re real people

Hi anon!

I don't even care if you're a Jkkr or just annoyed with Tkkkrs in general (though I'm leaning towards Jkkr since you're probably here because of that jkkr account that discussed my post recently).

You are very much underestimating my experience and knowledge about/with mental health, depression, and the effect it has on relationships. This will probably come of as a 'trust me dude, I know', but honestly most people who have suffered from depression (or other mental health problems) will tell you that the depth of a relationship does not matter when it comes to depression. Depressed people are not more prone to open up to their partners, their partners can't fix them and are not able to cure them from being depressed. Partners are also so often just a bystander in someone's struggle with depression. So your comments on this are basically invalidating every depressed person's relationship with their partener, because it has the assumption that a romantic partner is the exception when it comes to a depressed person's internal struggles. They are not! Very often a depressed person will try to hide their pain from everyone. To avoid harming them. Now every person's story is different and every depressed person's way of dealing will also be different. Educate yourself anon.

Tae shut everyone out. Just like Jm shut people out, just like Namjoon shut people out. Parners that truly love one another will endure these times together, even if one of them shut's the other out. I do think Tae shut Jk out at his hardest moments. I also think it is clear that Jk stood by him and was a source of comfort in the ways he could. I've witnessed many (too much for my liking, because it is brutal to see people you love go through this) couples survive mental health problems and making it through them together. I've been the person that a depressed person's partner hoped they would open up to... even though they did not open up to their partner themselves. When you see someone go through hell each day, you don't care who they open up to.. you just hope they do to whomever they can.

Now the real question is... why does it trigger YOU so much that I think Tae and Jk do have deep conversations?

[ac-liveblogs]

Greetings! Can I share my woes with you, fellow stranger? I... honestly cannot believe that a game like genshin could possibly exist. I'm almost done with the Fountain AQ and lemme just say that... This dumbfuck journey through the nations made me fear for my own sanity. There is almost NEVER any logical progression between the stages of the quests and literally only 2,5 people in the whole fandom ever talk about this! Half the time you cannot tell why the characters are doing what they are doing and even when you can see the logic behind their actions the actions themselves are usually stupid af. And then there are world quests that are written as if they exist in some entirely different worlds! Like how the Meropide from the AQ and from the Unfinished Comedy are two completely different prisons, because NO WAY are they run by the same Duke guy. So, I've been very troubled by this. Have I lost my last braincells and this is why I can't comprehend the very good writing of the very good hoyo? Is everyone else just playing a different genshin that ACTUALLY makes sense?? Am I insane or is it the world around me that has gone mad???

Salutations, kind stranger, please take a seat!

To risk sounding very unkind, my general impression behind a lot of the discussion surrounding Genshin's story and character writing boils roughly down to this post;

Because I do get the general sense that what sticks with most people are the big dramatic moments and the general SHAPE of what you expect this all to mean or look like, not what it actually is or says. Which is FINE, praise fanon because god knows this game needs it, but my eye will start aggressively twitching when I see people praising Scaramouche's deep emotionally charged writing (HYV avoided writing as much of his story as possible though) or how meaningful a character Neuvillette is (confusing role in the narrative at best, actively detrimental to the world-building at worst).

And maybe if you're willing to accept lore dumps, explanations that character arcs happened off-screen, character bios, flashback sequences, telling not showing and animated trailers as substitutes for actual writing... then maybe it does seem like a lot is accomplished, even if you do have to bridge the gap with fanon. Like, there's so much lore! And they wrote so many words! It must be smart!!

I did chat to a colleague at work (anime fan; writing a book) who played Genshin and dropped it very early on. I asked "so what did you think of the writing" and without missing a beat he said "embarrassingly bad". So I'm going to say that most of the people that recognise it just dropped it immediately and the majority of the remainders are people that are willing to accept this. And suckers like us who sit open mouthed watching the trainwreck unfold.

Or, there's a secret version of this game I failed to download twice, and you clearly didn't get it, in which case I think we need to find the correct person to complain to about it.

Though speaking of the Fortress of Meropide, I was really amused when 'this is a DARK PRISON' collided with 'this is a GREAT prison and Wrio's so cool' in Wriothesely's quest, where the writers struggled with giving him a dramatic storyline tied to his own location so much they made him accidentally endorse a torture cult without realising how much that clashed with Wrio's previous characterisation of 'I know everything in the Fortress, including that you three are Fatui agents, to the point that I can quiz the Traveller on weird conspiracy theories about this place'.

Or like, "oh I'm really observant, I did notice this weird and suspicious/worrying thing, I just haven't done anything about it" x2 because he can't look ignorant, he's gotta know what's up, but like, think about that a second more and that's worse. Wrio. That's worse, you have to investigate those things. There is a torture cult in the basement and the entire prison almost flooded with people dissolving water, Wrio, we could have avoided these problems!

My current conspiracy theory is this place sucks like the AQ implies, but everyone just lies to Wrio and pretends everything is great and he's doing such a good job running the joint and he just believes them. The bubble almost pops in his character quest, but not quite.

Although, I hate the Fortress in it's entirety and all, but the thing that's sticking with me despite everything that Fontaine did is still.... "these people used to be oceanids but just forgot". Who forgot? Hoyoverse, apparently. Furina's quest sure didn't engage with 90% of the writing surrounding both that and her trial, huh. What a stupid meaningless twist that meant nothing and had no impact whatsoever. Why even do it.

this game is punishment for something and i'm not sure what

[awkwardgtace]

What are the differences between Guardian Au and original au for Melody and Kyrie? How did they meet, their dynamic, and are the guardians supposed to fight against a bigger threat?

got this ask at the perfect time since i just finished the game i was playing tonight :D

I wrote out a thing then decide to go down the list and do major differences at the end.

So how did they meet:

Melody made a comment about Kyrie's eyes being blue when she was near him on a school campus one day (probably college). He heard her and asked if that was a good thing. Started horrible embarrassment for Melody and a lot of attempts from Kyrie to convince her to give him a chance. (lots of self doubt when it comes to people with Melody.)

Siren's song AU Has their first meeting as a story, but something to bring up with it is that Melody at that point was extremely isolated. Her voice had put her and her family in danger. She couldn't risk being seen by anyone because her creepy manager could possibly find her. It took a while for her to accept that she didn't put everyone she cared about in danger just be letting them close, but that fear puts a lot of strain on how she and Kyrie interact at first. (and after he grows considering the aftermath of when she was controlled by the stones.)

Their Dynamic:

Guardian AU has a pretty fluffy dynamic compared to most others. Both Melody and Kyrie have a history of being around guardians and are suuuper used to it. Melody kind of has a blind faith in Kyrie. She genuinely doesn't believe he'd be capable of hurting her. The thing is hoping that faith never gets proved wrong. Kyrie has the same kind of trust, but he usually shows that in the mer au too. He trusts her because she trusts him. He just sees a lot less focus on her own safety he never noticed when they were the same size. It was easy to see her as brave and confident when he wasn't aware how small she looked to any and every guardian. Their relationship is more open too. Easier for them to admit their struggles most of the time. I'd say guardian AU has a much healthier relationship the mer AU

Mer AU has a much more struggle heavy dynamic. Breaking through a lot of pain and issues each has faced. A lot of mutual healing for traumas they faced. Kyrie has the biggest complex about his size in mer au. A lot more obvious hate in this one for him and his size. Melody slowly shows him that isn't true. Melody is convinced she's bad luck. That it's her fault Caprice had to stop doing sports, that if she'd listened she wouldn't be isolated how she is. Even blames herself for Kyrie and what he'll be later. Kyrie does a lot to teach her that she isn't and that she's allowed to be happy with the people around her. Their happy moments show a lot of the trust they build together. Kind of glimpses to what the guardian au relationship already has.

Guardian AU Why guardians exist?

I have had a document in the works for a lore drop like mafia au and I'm stuck on the dumbest part of it (spoilers it's the name for smallest guardian class. something, titan, colossus. I'll figure it out eventually though ideas are welcome. Genuinely considering giant rn lol)

Anyway, yes they exist to defend against bigger threats. Evolutionary protection for humans on a planet that had threats. Basically humans are small, but the planet isn't. There's environments that match each public class of guardians. Originally guardians would be pure defense against predators, which is the origin of the name lol. Then when there was enough they would go get necessities from the larger environments. Evolutionary need has kept the guardians popping up, but it's still kind of just a common ancestor trait so the government haven't found a way to tell if someone will be one. Just locked it to a general age range it can happen.

Kyrie is literally just in an extremely populated city where guardians do pop up frequently. The goal being to stop any from causing trouble while growing or if the 'wrong' person grows. Especially with the changes to memory that could encourage some people to see the average human as something lesser. Generally the days of pure protection have passed, but that still holds the main focus of most of their jobs.

Now the differences in the relationships for siren's song and guardian au melody and kyrie:

Biggest is Melody's blind faith. She doesn't have that in the siren's song universe, but she could after enough time which might be relevant to something I'm working on

Kyrie's comfort in his relationship with Melody is a difference too. He's a lot more confident as Melody's partner in siren's song since he has that promise of 'destined' backing him. There's no one better for her, but guardian au has a lot more insecurities about staying once he grew. Especially since most of the time relationships between a guardian and the average human only works when the guardian can take the medicine without pain.

Time of their relationships is different too. Melody and Kyrie for guardian au had already been to a point of living together before she went away for work. Basically the size difference was viewed as an added roadbump to an established relationship rather than a uphill battle to starting one.

Melody and Kyrie are different in the two universes too. Guardian!Melody is a lot more well adjusted. She has her traumas and struggles, but not to such an extreme. This Melody has friends and people to rely on outside her brother and Kyrie. People who support her and her choices that lets her feel confident enough to have the blind faith in Kyrie. Siren'sSong!Melody is extremely isolated. She has online friends, but keeps them at arms length. A strict distance is kept so they don't know enough to find her past. She could open up, but she doesn't know how. By the time she does, most of her life focuses on merfolk and she can't tell humans. Guardian!Kyrie had a much more normal life too. He wasn't abandoned or treated badly, his parents were pretty decent. Until he became a guardian, but that's another story. For the most part he's formed his own push to isolate himself out of fear of people seeing him as a monster. That's something he'll work on now that Melody is with him again. He can be talked out of spirals about his own actions and what he might have done by accident or on purpose. Siren'sSong!Kyrie is terrified of hurting anyone. Even by accident. He'd run and never return if he thought he hurt Melody. It's harder to convince him that he's worthy of the trust others have for him. In a way he's much more cowardly than the other versions of him. It's all because he's been told so much how he's a danger. He's fiercer at the same time. Much more willing to be the monster than his guardian au counterpart.

Mostly the difference is just in them and their comfort with each other. I def rambled again lol. But it's a lot of just established relationship and relatively healthy lives versus new relationship and heaps of trauma. I think I covered all I could, but if there's anything you wanted to know I missed just send another ask <3

[wheremermaidsdwell]

no one has asked but because i like the verse (obviously, given i wrote 80k for it) i have thought about this, and ex, I have thought about how i will probably never write a full sequel for hntd, although i have a follow up oneshot i will post soon and might write another one or two as time moves on. one of the last comments i got "I loved this story. And i think I needed the hopeful ending." covers why

reason:

seeing as it's a story about love and eating disorders and reclaiming control of your life part of a longer length sequel would probably require being about a relapse for Chrissy ( a big life change/development happening at the same time which would be the main plot something like eddie getting a chance at a record deal) and it being her worst one so it'd be. uh. not joyful to go into though obviously i'd end it with her recommitting to her recovery and adding to her tools and probably seeking more help (like she starts going to a support group etc) because she accepts she needs more if she could fall back like that. It would also be rough for her and eddie because a relapse like that would mean she is hiding it from him in the beginning so it would start with her already relapsing and actively hiding it, and feeling like shit and it would start unraveling very painfully.

and I just don't know if that's a story that needs to be out in fandom. It's a very real story though! I have gone through two major relapses and struggle in smaller ways even when I'm "recovered" and eating disorders are things that just....do not go away. you're stuck with them. they break your brain. Whenever I talk about mine I always hope that it deters anyone reading if they have their own urges. Stopping early is so much better! I almost failed my first semester senior year of college because mine was destroying me. literally my psychiatrist asks me 'but are you doing behaviors' when I express that i'm having urges. because that's when it changes from 'stressful problem for me and my therapist' to 'dangerous' and she will affirm me if i'm not taking actions which is always jarring because my brain feels like a bomb sometimes.

(i am......somewhere in between rn. i have started eating better breakfasts!!!!)

so yeah, idk if fandom need a story about a relapse. i have to finish several other projects rn, so we'll see I suppose, but I doubt I will ever want to write a full sequel. it's a very lovely story as it is. I like being able to leave people with the hope of chrissy improving her life and her and eddie looking forward to Who Knows What but that it's Probably Good. It makes me feel good too.