#i understand why people fear the beholding

[izel-scribbles]

so many malevolent artists that are like. well known in the community have followed me back. this is horrifying

[chaisshitposts]

Write A Letter To Yourself To Find The Answers You Want. || 'Dear Subconscious...'

have ya ever had a problem at hand that ya just couldn't figure out a solution to? it's such a deeply perplexing problem that ya just decide to shrug it off and maybe 'sleep it off.' and so, ya do just that... and maybe in the middle of the night, or as soon as ya wake up, or maybe even two days later in the middle of a totally unrelated task, ya get a random idea, a random thought, or perhaps a random solution that was the answer. that was yer subconscious, answerin' that problem ya were so stumped on.

which got me thinkin'... why haven't i considered askin' my subconscious a direct question? ive seen this happen in movies before, usually with— people who have DID or MPD, or perhaps someone who sleep walks, or suffers black outs. I've seen people leave notes and messages to themselves.

why haven't I just written a letter addressed to my subconscious and let it solve everything for me? why haven't I asked my subconscious to show me the answer or give me the answers I need to tap into being in the state of pure consciousness? the letter is personal to me, and my subconscious knows me best, so why the fuck wouldn't I trust what it has to say? i already do muscle testin' to get my yes/no answers, I already do fuckin' tarot readin's on myself— so... why not do this? can't believe I haven't done this yet.

and with that thought, I got my handy notebook, sat down at my dining room table, and got to writin', starting the letter off by saying 'dear subconscious...' I spilled my most vulnerable guts afterwards and the rest was history.

I'm gonna tell ya right now, full transparency, I wrote to my subconscious about how much I want to enter the void state/I Am State and asked it for clear signs in my letter, I told it to give me the answers I want in a way that only I could understand. an experiment worth while... originally, i wasn't gonna post this but then i got my answers and i wanted to share this with ya lovely folks of this lil' dandy community.

I bet you're wonderin' what was the answer I got from my subconscious. I got multiple answers, as terrifying as that is, and I cannot even fathom how I can explain them properly. All I know is that I feel unwavering peace in all aspects of my life. but if yer really curious, I got a message in a tarot readin' video and through the spinoff of adventure time that just came out, not too long ago on max. Fiona and Cake. the shit they say in the show is... I can't even explain how it made me feel, just finished watchin' the entire series today. it was everything I needed to know, I asked my subconscious for an answer that only I would understand and what would ya know... i love musicals and animated shows/movies, and behold, i gotta damn combo. i definitely recommend it to my fellow manifesters!!! they literally talk about how easy it is to create yer own REALITIES in the damn show... that's what we fuckin' do!!!!

how do I write a letter to myself?

address yourself a letter as 'dear subconscious' and then get to writin'. you're literally sendin' yerself a letter, say whatever ya want in it, write yer secrets, write yer fears, write yer dreams. ask yer subconscious whatcha need to do to get yer dream life guaranteed and ya shall receive. some people may not like the idea of this but, what's the harm in a lil' conversation with yerself and findin' out the answers ya need. It can especially help ya if you've been strugglin' for a while, 'specially with all ya folks out there who've been on yer void journey for multiple years. what better way to get yer answers than to speak to yerself through yer own mind... wah, that sounds fuckin' coconuts but I stand by it.

essentially, this is just a combo of commandin' yer subconscious and scriptin', that's not hard at all. and who said ya gotta handwrite it? ya can type it out on yer phone or even yer computer if ya want, do whatever feels good and allows ya to write out yer guts and frustration. after that, ya can relax and see what happens next. that's all in this post! thanks for readin' and I hope ya get the answers ya seek! until next time!~

p.s. this ain't a challenge, it's just another way to get to know what you need to do to accomplish your dreams as the individual creator of yer reality. you'll know when yer answers come. hell, might even come to ya in the middle of the night or even in a random movie in the form of a quote that is far too relatable to yer situation ya decided to sit down and watch one day. kinda like what happened with me... hehe.

[gauloiseblue]

For though I am a sinner / You call me to your table.

(König × Reader)

[May contain: heavy religious imagery, obsessive behavior, murder]

Credit to @rainlovesyou12

When he was six, he witnessed the rite of communion for the first time. As his brother approached the altar, the priest announced, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.”

His brother whispered a few words he couldn't catch, before he stepped forward to receive bread and wine.

He didn't understand what the ritual was, or what the purpose of it was. But he looked up and saw that his parents smiled, almost too proudly.

At eight, the church adversely taught him about it.

He was crying, screaming, as his parents dragged him to the altar. The priest's eyes were cold, as he spoke the same verse his brother received. When he resisted, his mother yanked him by his arm and forced him to look into her eyes. She was angry, and it's a loose word for what she exhibited that day.

When he stood in front of the table, tear-streaked, and trembling, the priest took a piece of the bread, and offered it to him. With his hands clasped, he muttered, "Lord I am not worthy"

That morning, he retched up the blood and the body of Christ.

He wiped off his mouth, as he lifted his head from the toilet bowl. The sour taste of the wine still lingered in the back of his tongue, and he bent down to wash his mouth with running water.

He didn't understand the joy of union with God through communion. It was dreadful to think that, by consuming a part of Christ, one could lead a salvation. But why would you take a part of someone else when all your life you never knew him?

His mother loved Him, and she loved Him more than her own son. She visited the church day and night, recited her praises in front of the wooden cross, where the statue of Christ watched upon her, cold and motionless. His father was a stern man, and he'd remind him of all-seeing God, who'd always watch him from above every time he misbehaved. They believed in salvation, and they believed in sins. For the only people who's versed in God's orders were them.

Rejecting a body of Christ might’ve put a curse on him, as he's blind to the doctrines his parents taught. Turning your gaze from your mother when she talked was a sin, but looking away when the priest took a young boy into a room wasn't a sin. Yet his brother understood it, and he had no choice but to obey.

And he tried, he tried to be good. But it's never enough in his parents' eyes.

It wasn't until he's old enough, that he had the courage to leave the house. Carrying all of his belongings, and all of his sins.

He rejected God as he rejected His salvation, but then again, he had rejected Him the moment he spat out the bread and wine. Without the eye of God upon him, he's freed from the sanctions. No more Hail Mary or Our Father prayers, just him and his conscience.

He relished in his freedom, venturing outside the tiny box he once called home. It's easier to live without the fear of God. In his line of work, he couldn't afford to worry, even just for a second. His parents might be horrified to find out that their son had abandoned the way to heaven, but he's content, content with the way he lived.

Yet it only lasted for long, before he saw Him in every face.

When he stood in the war, with his hands bloodied and bodies by his feet, he often mused on the possibility that they were once a child of God. Did they swallow His flesh, when the priest placed a part of Him on their tongue? Did they feel at peace, after knowing that the blood of Him would lead them to salvation? And would he, as an apostate, burn in endless fire after killing many of His lambs?

Sometimes he stared at his ceiling, wondering if the omniscient one was looking at him through the pale light.

They said God is present in every lights

In every ray of the sun,

In every glow of the moon,

Yet the darkness still creeps

From the long shadow

The light creates

He received a new contract the next morning that required him to fly across the ocean. He accepted it, without knowing what was in store for him.

Between the light and the dark

There's a boundary where

The dark would collide

With the whiteness of the light

Leaving a gray line

Where two forces

Dance in eternal war

Right after the touchdown, the chopper came to a sudden halt. He snapped out of his thoughts, as he looked out the window and saw the base from afar.

When he stepped out of the aircraft, he was greeted by a blinding light, before it all died down once he winced. As his vision adjusted, he noticed two figures approached him. One's stone-cold face, and the other one wore a striking white uniform, that he almost mistook them as something else.

The new commander was a stern man, the common kind that one could find everywhere in the military. But his eyes wandered to a rare sight beside him.

You greeted him with a smile, something that he's not quite used to. You held a clipboard in your hand, and he could tell that your job was closely tied to the item. The commander noticed his attention and cleared his throat.

"This is (Name), she'll help you move to your room. Meet me at the office when you're done."

And so, he followed after you.

You were warm, and polite. You made small talk with him without prying too much, and he found himself relaxed in your presence.

When he had stored his things away, you took him to the office, where the commander had waited for him.

The briefing was short, since he had read the files on the way here. But one thing that struck him was the silence from the man when he brought up the secretary.

Once, he was told that anything outside the contract is none of his business, but he couldn't help but be curious. Why the lack of response? What was it about you, that he was reluctant to share?

It didn't take long before he found the nature of your relationship with him.

Alas, the sun has to set

And the dark would triumph

As the shadows march

Towards the horizon

Till this day, he can't find the reason why someone like you would hand your life to a man as cold as him. Even when the answers are already splayed out on the table. It's not hard to piece them together when soldiers' tongues were loose, he just had to say a word, and they'd immediately take the bait.

When the world is shrouded

By the darkness and black

Could the Almighty

Blame humans

For turning blind?

When he saw you sitting in the kitchen, alone, with your head hung low, he found himself inexplicably drawn to you. He laughed at himself when the thought of comforting you crossed his mind, but what kind of human he was, if he didn't feel any sympathy for you?

It's an open secret that you had a loveless marriage, and yet, you stayed with him, despite of the rage that your husband showed that morning.

He'd understand if you wished to throw out your frustration to him, but when you saw him by the table, you offered him a tired smile.

After all,

Humanity

Would always be

Lost

Without its shepherd

"Why didn't you leave him?"

Your face stayed the same despite of the intrusive question, since it's nothing you never heard before.

"Because I chose it that way." You mused, "I don't think you'd understand. I owe him my life. I wouldn't be here if it's not because of him." You told him as you looked at him in the eyes, "Without him, I am nothing."

And he was silent. Silent as he turned, and left you behind. Though he wore a mask, he knew that you saw him. You saw through his false front.

That day, he dreamt of his mother. Her voice echoed, as she chanted her praise at the altar. The devotion in her eyes, the adoration for the Savior whom she owed her life to, awakened the ghastly side of him.

Your devoutness evoked the memory of his own past, ripping his earth open, as the molten rock poured into the land. An ugly jealousy, for something he could never had.

Sentiment.

Something that the commander deemed as unnecessary.

He felt his eyes darkened whenever he witnessed the man's apathy, but his heart would scream at the slightest affection his commander showed to you.

He'd carry this envy until the day of the big Ops.

While Adam bore the title

Of the first Sinner

It was Cain who was the truest,

The most hideous Sinner

For he killed not to survive

But to satisfy his envy

The soldiers were briefed on the possibility of death, or imprisonment due to their carelessness. The commander shouted that it's not an ordinary mission, and everyone is responsible for their own safety.

A sentence that'd become his own doom.

When they infiltrated the enemy base, he knew the possibility of the enemy having bombs planted on each floor. Not to slow them down, but to bury them to the ground.

It wasn't his negligence if he didn't warn his commander about it.

He wasn't an advisor after all.

By the time they discovered the explosives, it was already too late.

He was with the commander when the whole buildings shook, with cracks began to form on the walls. He yelled at the man to follow him, as they made their way out of the room.

As they raced towards the window, a heavy rubble fell through the ceiling, onto the commander's leg. He cried in pain, as the protruding steel dug into his flesh.

"König—" He called out when he stood there, unmoving.

He could've saved him—he should've, but he chose to remain still.

"König." The man looked at him, as suspicion dripped from his voice. Seeing him in that state caused a vile feeling to rose from his chest, as he bared his teeth into a grin.

"Should've said your safety is my business."

His commander's eyes widened, and his jaw tightened into an angry snarl. "Which side is it that you work for?"

"No one."

The man screamed his name when he turned, before a sickening crack filled the room.

He got out just as the building collapsed behind him, swallowing the lives of unfortunate men who were still inside.

The main objective of the mission was reached, but what greeted them at the base was silence. There were no cheers or pats on the back, just a heavy silence.

Many soldiers were injured, and the infirmary wasn't prepared to handle that many. Which pushed the other staff to be one-night medics, and you were no exception.

He only suffered a minor injury, so he could only watch you run in and out of the room from afar.

Of course, the pleasure was short-lived

Since his hatred for his brother

Had nowhere to go anymore

When he found you the next day, with your food untouched, and tears stained your cheeks, he felt his heart squeezed with remorse.

He approached you, as if you were a lone figure—whom, he could confess to and repent—at the confessional. He'd recite the Holy Mary prayers for a thousand years, if that's what it takes for him to be forgiven by you.

But when you looked at him, your lips formed a small smile—the same smile that you gave to him back then, before he pried into your privacy.

"Have you eaten?" You asked him, and he almost ripped out his skin, so you'd see the sins that were carved into his bones. "Come, sit with me."

You took a small bread from the basket and carried it close to his hand, before placing the bun into his palm.

And he understood. He understood the utterance one had to say at the God's table, when they received the Holy supper.

When he brought the bread to his lips, he muttered the soundless words he couldn't deliver,

"Lord, I am unworthy."

[chavahlahdraws]

okay i see you’re obviously a fan of hmc, as you should, but i have a question cause i read the book but people on tiktok pissed me off (as booktok usually does i’m about ready to get rid of it) and a lot of people were saying it’s weird that people love the relationship even though sophie “didn’t really love him” because she was charmed. but i was like no y’all i thought she really loved him?? like she stays with him to have a kid right so???

ok. here is a real way to comment on this yippee! this is actually aweslome because i get to do my little sophie rant.

first of all and most importantly - sophie was never charmed by howl. quite the opposite, really, which i would argue is how she fell for him in the first place.

“Oh, confound that gray-and-scarlet suit!” Sophie said. “I refuse to believe that I was the one that got caught with it!” The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same. She stumped a few steps further. “Anyway,’ she said with great relief, “Howl doesn’t like me!”

this is by far one of my favorite sophie moments in the whole book: and i understand the confusion here for more than one reason (will explain more later!) but clearly she’s using the gray and scarlet suit as a euphemism because she’s in denial. after everything she’s seen of him, sophie refuses to believe that she could fall in love with someone who is so intrinsically flawed—however, as we find at the end of the book—they’re the same in that respect.

howl is by no means a bad person or an evil person in the slightest, and despite herself sophie falls in love with him because of his kindness (like most people do, anyway) here’s some times that they bond …

More about Howl? Sophie thought desperately. I have to blacken his name! Her mind was such a blank that for a second it actually seemed to her that Howl had no faults at all. How stupid! “Well, he’s fickle, careless, selfish, and hysterical,” she said. “Half the time I think he doesn’t care what happens to anyone as long as he’s all right-but then I find out how awfully kind he’s been to someone. Then I think he’s kind just when it suits him-only then I find out he undercharges poor people. I don’t know, Your Majesty. He’s a mess.”

“Behold the new Royal Wizard,” he said. “My name is very black.” Then he began to laugh, much to the surprise of Sophie and Michael. “And what did she do to the Count of Catterack?” he laughed. “I should never have let her near the King!” “I did blacken your name!” Sophie protested. “I know. It was my miscalculation,” Howl said.

Howl pointed a shaky hand up toward the canopy of his bed. “That’s why I love spiders. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try, again.’ I keep trying,” he said with great sadness. “But I brought it on myself by making a bargain some years ago, and I know I shall never be able to love anyone properly now.” The water running out of Howl’s eyes was definitely tears now. Sophie was concerned. “Now, you mustn’t cry-”

“If you come out here alone, bring your stick to test the ground with,” Howl said. “It’s full of springs and bog. And don’t go any further that way.”

As she had feared, the hard black-and-white daylight coming through the broken wall showed her that Howl had not bothered to shave or tidy his hair. His eyes were still red-rimmed and his black sleeves were torn in several places. There was not much to choose between Howl and the scarecrow. Oh, dear! Sophie thought. He must love Miss Angorian very much. “I came for Miss Angorian,” she explained. “And I thought if I arranged for your family to visit you, it would keep you quiet for once!” Howl said disgustedly. “But no-”

Howl rose up on his hands and knees with a scramble. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I’ve got to rescue that fool Sophie.” “I’m here!” Sophie said, shaking his shoulder. “But so is Miss Angorian! Get up and do something about her! Quickly!”

Howl looked a little sad, but he said, “We were both hoping you would. Neither of us wanted to end up like the Witch and Miss Angorian. Would you call your hair ginger?” “Red gold,” Sophie said. Not much had changed about Howl that she could see, now he had his heart back, except maybe that his eyes seemed a deeper color-more like eyes and less like glass marbles. “Unlike some people’s,” she said, “it’s natural.” “I’ve never seen why people put such a value on things being natural,” Howl said, and Sophie knew then that he was scarcely changed at all.

and finally…

“Sophie,” said Martha, “the spell’s off you! Did you hear?” But Sophie and Howl were holding one another’s hands and smiling and smiling, quite unable to stop. “Don’t bother me now,” said Howl. “I only did it for the money.” “Liar!” said Sophie.

howl and sophie are meant for each other! they compliment each other immensely, and it’s difficult to describe how well they do so concisely. what i can pin it down to is this: nothing is secret between them. they operate like best friends as well as they do as lovers; they never let anything slide between them! sophie refuses to take howl’s shit when he crosses a line, (and howl vice cersa, especially when sophie is putting herself down) but they also know each other well enough to truly know their intentions when they say anything. a great example of this in hmc is this whole conversation:

“Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch?” “Not likely!” Howl yelled. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell my self I’m not doing it!” Oh, dear! Sophie thought, looking round at the swirling grit. He’s being honest! And this is a wind. The last bit of the curse has come true! The hot grit hit her thunderously and Howl’s grip hurt. “Keep running!” Howl bawled. “You’ll get hurt at this speed!” Sophie gasped and made her legs work again. She could see the mountains clearly now and a line of green below that was the flowering bushes. Even though yellow sand kept swirling in the way, the mountains seemed to grow and the green line rushed toward them until it was hedge high. “All my flanks were weak!” Howl shouted. “I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch’s hands!” “I’m the eldest!” Sophie shrieked. “I’m a failure!” “Garbage!” Howl shouted. “You just never stop to think!” Howl was slowing down. Dust kicked up round them in dense clouds. Sophie only knew the bushes were quite near because she could hear the rush and rattle of the gritty wind in the leaves. They plunged in among them with a crash, still going so fast that Howl had to swerve and drag Sophie in along, skimming run across a lake. “And you’re too nice,” he added, above the lap-lap of the water and the patter of sand on the water-lily leaves. “I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place.”

sorry for the chunky quote, but this is super super important for our two silly little characters and their dynamic!!

and as for the misconception that sophie was charmed by howl:

mrs. pentsemmon actually hints when she meets sophie that she cursed the grey and scarlet suit herself (out of jealousy, though she’d never say it) and the original passage says that;

The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same.

Sophie knows for a fact that she felt the same about Howl when he was wearing the blue and silver suit that she did when he wore the enchanted one, and she knew from that that she most definitely wasn’t affected by the charm.

also! a little note about misconceptions in general: the first time i read hmc, the ending scene felt out of nowhere. but that’s how subtly dwj worked in the character development throughout this story! at it’s core hmc is a character based story, and howl and sophie are the most important characters (sophie especially!) but in the first read through i think we all focused on the plot a little more since we didn’t know that was what it was. every read through since, i’ve seen how howl and sophie fall in love in real time! and it’s undeniable then. :3

anyways! relationships written by a woman always win fr. thanks for listening to my rant if you made it this far. and my good friend @thatfoolsophie if you have anything to add, please do to this already crazy long post lmao :3

[kairos-polaris]

Beloved, why do you ship jonelias? Why do they consume your waking thoughts so?

I am glad you asked :D

So! I really enjoy uneven "problematic" power dynamics and this was what originally attracted me to jonelias. I listened to mag 92 and thought "jonelias seems like something I would ship" because even then I could tell they fit my taste. I also just like protagonist/antagonist ships, complicated relationships are my favourites

mag 92 is one of my favourite episodes as a jonelias shippers for a couple of reasons. at first it was solely the conversation between Jon and Elias and how it was about Jon getting changed by Elias, because of Elias. Jon was being openly vulnerable! "Am I still human, Elias?" he asks Elias who has just confessed to murder and keeping people hostage. Jon, who had so much respect and admiration for Elias' expertise, turns to him even in that moment. It is Elias who he seeks reassurance from, he asks another monster if he is one

Another aspect of mag 92 I am obsessed with is the opening statement and the way Elias puts Jon above everyone else (telling him to discard everyone in his pursuit) while also placing Jon on the same level as him

(Side note: I am still not sure if I prefer Jon to sit on Elias' lap/have Elias clean his wound or to focus more on what they don't do, on the gaping distance between them that they both wish wasn't there but both have their own reasons to not bridge it. Both are so good)

Vampire metaphor! Jon is a walking vampire metaphor and Elias is his maker, his creator. I am so obsessed with the idea of Jon feeding on Elias, pulling fear from his mind and Elias enjoying the intrusion and the freedom the compulsion brings. He said it felt tingly! Freak (affectionate). Also, telepathy and mind meld is so delicious

What I love most about jonelias is what I love in others ships: obsession and fully knowing each other. Beholding allows to take knowing and seeing your partner to another level, Jon and Elias can know and see each other in ways other people in their lives can't

Moral corruption is inherently fascinating to me and especially Jon. He gets worse throughout the series, his only anchors to humanity are his own guilt and the people around him who more often than not just reinforce that guilt (this makes sense in the context of the story but you can't guilt yourself into being a better person and that's why it doesn't really work for Jon but I digressed). I like thinking about all the ways Jon could be worse, the ways Jonah could push Jon into following his worst impulses, into choosing to be a monster instead of drowning in guilt to not feel helpless and powerless

I love jonelias when it's about all the things they wish to do but don't because they have other priorities, because they know but don't understand each other just like their patron. I love jonelias when it's Jon giving in, letting go. Of his morals, of his guilt, letting Elias shape him into something new. I love the idea of Jonah Magnus who worships no god, not even the one he serves, adoring and worshipping Jon and especially the parts of Jon that he himself had shaped. The Pygmalion and Galatea of it

Jonah chose Jon! He saw him and knew he was right! Jonah wants the Archivist and he wants the Archivist to be Jon. Sure, Jon was marked by the Web first but Jonah picked him too and I love it. It's fascinating from both of theirs perspective, Jonah feeling proud he made the right choice and Jon having a complicated mix of feelings about it. He hates that he was chosen and he just a little happy that he was chosen and he hates himself for it

Another thing I really like is the way they say each other's name! Elias calls Jon by his name a lot and I hate when people act like he doesn't

Jon and Jonah are very similar and I find that fascinating too. They are both workaholics and nerds and losers and freaks!! And I love them for that. And and and I really do think they could have eventually been truly equal if not for Jonahs prioritising his evil plan

Also they are sexy, I don't make the rules

[shadyshaylee114]

Orc x minotaur x oc

Zephyr and Vasileios watched the little human female stumble thru their labyrinth her soft brown hair was laced with flowers while they couldn't see her face with her back turn she was dorned with a long white dress. Zephyr looked at Vasileios the minotaur stood atleast a foot taller then the young orc his fur pitch black the only real color on Vasileios being the gold septum piercing he had earned before being placed in the labyrinth.

"They probably threw the poor thing in here as a sacrifice as they have the others before her. We can lead her out as always." Zephyr stated. Vasileios laid his pale blue eyes on the young orc who had sworn loyalty to him ages ago when he still only had two tusk now the forest green orc was alittle over 6ft tall with four tusk and well earned warrior marking dorning his skin. Zephyr's gold eyes looked at him for his guidance and wisdom on what to do with the young woman. But when he looked at the young woman again a sense of longing filled him, the urge to take the female back to their lair and dourn her with the jewels and furs they had earned over there years.

"No, not yet lets see what she does first." Vasileios found himself saying hoping that the longer they watched either his urge would go away or Zephyr would also get the same instinct.

Aria sighed, unaware of the 2 pairs of eyes watching her every move. The village was going to sacrifice one of the children into the labyrinth. Knowing the tales of the monsters who ruled the area and how ruthless they were rumored to be. She couldn't believe they'd do something so awful, but fear made people into fools. Aria knew that better than anyone. Shaking the darker thoughts from her mind Aria smiled brightly she'd made it through worse situations then be stuck in a labyrinth with some beast aslong as she moved and left it alone hopefully it'd return the favor. She quickly picked a direction, hoping it'd lead her to an exit.

Zephyr couldn't believe it. Vasileios had never let a mortal walk the labyrinth this was their home, and he didn't take kindly to strangers being inside. He always got them out as fast as they had entered. Zephyr looked back at the little female who had started to make her way deeper inside she was attractive for a mortal, but they had plenty of pretty females thrown in as sacrifice, which made this one different. Sure, her curvy body was a site to behold, and the way she smiled softly even at the roughest portions of the labyrinth was enough to steal a man or monsters breath. Zephyr cursed in his native tongue, realizing why him and his brother were truly drawn to the female she was there's or at least she would be. A true mate while Zephyr and Vasileios where both honorable and deserving of gifts a true mate was something not given lightly.

This is later on in the story but since this accidently posted I wanted to share a small smut part. At this point Vasileios and Zephyr have decided to collect there female she had fallen asleep and they are talking on there way back to. There home.

"She's so small Vasileios." Zephyr stated as they began to walk towards there lair. Vasileios chuckled understanding what the young orc was thinking. How was she going to take one of them let alone both.

"That's where we get to enjoy ourselves the most Zeph we get to make sure she's stretched, wet, and needy enough for use that no other thought then taking us will consume her." Vasileios groaned out the images flashing thru his thoughts. Wondering what color her closed eyes hid and what they would look like brimming with tears as she begged for more even though she was much to sensitive, from cumming on both his and zephyr's fingers and tongues.

[djwiththejd]

A quick analysis of Medusa in the new PJO (2023) Disney show

So this really struck me as soon as I watched the episode when it came out on Tuesday, but the writers really added some serious depth and complexity to Medusa’s character which I think fits both the critical lens people are viewing her myth as and how it was originally portrayed.

Here, Medusa is put together and conscientious of her “grotesque” appearance. Instead of letting her snake hair run wild she dons a demure dress and hat combo that hides away the majority of her identifiable features and makes her look like a sweet, beautiful young woman. We only see this shift to her more “monstrous” side when Medusa tries and fails to isolate Percy from his group and decides to take off her hat and “remove her cover” so that she can still turn the kids into stone for her own purposes.

However, I don’t think Medusa’s belief that her powers are a gift is a lie. Yes, Athena is incredibly vain, I can absolutely see her punishing Medusa for her “situation” but I can also see how it can be used as a defense mechanism by Medusa. Athena did punish Arachne in an equally hideous way, so Medusa had every right to hold anger towards Athena for what she did and still have some gratitude for the safety and power that becoming a gorgon has allowed her to gain.

But the show portrays Medusa as a complex character.

Even when we first arrive to “Auntie Em’s” only the most vicious and terrifying stone creatures are on display outside. They can be construed as both defense mechanisms to keep wayward innocents out as well as a warning to those who would try to harm her. I can imagine Medusa not intending to turn many of the statues in her basement right after she was cursed and hiding them away in shame because she couldn’t bear to look upon their faces of fear and horror, but it also could just as easily have been a way to hide her darkest secrets in a place where none are likely to find them.

I like the duality of interpretation opportunities offered to us in the show. I think it allows people who are sympathetic with Medusa’s plight to still have that room for sympathy if they choose to interpret her scenes in a more favorable light but still understand why Medusa had to be beheaded. For all intents and purposes, I did appreciate that her beheading was “unseen” to the audience. Regardless of your analysis of Medusa’s creation story, it feels comforting to know that her death was not some spectacle to behold. It may have been a Disney censor, but it also gives her a chance to die with as much dignity as possible, at least that’s how it came off to me.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Can I request Tristan with a giant gf who’s jealous of Gawain and Isolde because they’re human size and she’s not and Tristan can’t pick her up and hug correctly since she’s so big??

Monachopsis

(n). the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

Ugh, I didn’t really like how this turned out but I hope you liked it! Characters like Tristan and Isolode are certainly interesting to say the least, okay those are my two cents byeeee! ✨

Content || characters involved may be ooc, short story, 1,619 words total, one brief mention of real-world issues.

Being interlinked beyond the vast perceptions of time and space was something uniquely so close, unordinary yet so ordinary. That was in itself a majesty, perhaps a rarity. For many races, one can imagine the difficulty that comes for inter-racial relationships, again it’s perhaps a rarity – a sight to behold; but something that never truly comes to fruition without the opinions of external forces outside the relationship. 

Unfortunately, you’ve come to be a victim of such a thing. You were a giant, a proud member of your race. You were raised with morals ingrained and values meant to overthrow the thinking of anyone else in the process, yet it was all suddenly knocked down the day you met Tristan, the Prince of Liones. You don’t know how, or why — something about him drew you closer. 

You hated that so much, it was the constant reminder that you are a woman. A girl, yet you were also a giant. You hated all of it, but you never voiced these concerns to Tristan. Being a proud member of the Giant race meant you could handle things yourself, battles and even the mental ones. It was all in due part to your old-fashioned parents who raised you the old ways of the giant race, even with how estranged and toxic they were, they were still very old-fashioned. You had been raised with love and toughness, but memories of the harsher times had ingrained so deeply in your heart – the self-resentment still remained. 

Sometimes here and there, you eventually run into people of other races who aren’t shy of telling you what they feel. The effects of the Holy War and the constant racism had still lingered harshly throughout the races from what you’ve seen, it still gave you serious whiplash just from remembering such interactions. 

That’s an unfortunate difficulty to just merely exist, though there remains some deep-rooted hatred and evil. One can find love and peace, surround yourself with people who sincerely understand and love you with all their hearts. Which had led you to meeting Tristan, one day out on the plains. 

You were traveling, out and about. Honestly, you didn’t have any particular reason to do so. Only that you found traveling to be fun and exciting, and possibly seeing brand new beautiful sights that you haven’t before. Although some of your friends and family back at Mega Dozer (homeland of the Giants) were unsure of letting you leave in the first place, they reluctantly gave in when you argued; “This could be a good learning experience for me! Besides, it might be good that I am alone by myself.” 

In hindsight, you wished you would've said those words differently. Being alone by yourself was becoming quite the scary experience, but you trudged onward in order to better face your fears of being alone by yourself. 

Was it being alone that you were scared of though?

“I think i'm getting pretty close to somewhere,” You muttered, looking down at the map in your large hands. You squinted, albeit a little closer than you needed too. Yet something had suddenly snapped you out of your stupor, causing you to look down and seeing two small forms who bumped into you. 

“Hello! I’m so sorry for that.” One had apologized, your brows furrowed as you tried to make out the appearances of the two beings. One clad in gold and white armor, golden gleaming aura and impossibly imposing, which somehow had you impressed for a brief moment. The other appeared to have long silver-length hair and heterochromia, one green and the other being blue. You shook your head as you crouched down to properly get within ear-shot. 

“No, I should be apologizing.” You grinned nervously, scratching the back of your head. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, that’s on me.”

“Ah, well the name’s Tristan.” He smiled warmly with a quick wave as he introduced himself, sensing your anxieties. The prince then asked for yours, and with a quick nod, you had introduced your name. 

Upon hearing your name, he repeated it. It rolled right off his tongue, beautifully done and divine to say. “That’s a really nice name.” He smiled once again, yet his smile softened into a grin, talking with you a little further before he finally decided to introduce you to the knight he was traveling alongside with. You couldn’t see the knight’s face, thus not knowing the knight's gender, but it wasn’t your business to know anyway. 

“This is Sir Gawain!” He exclaimed proudly. You raised a brow. Oddly, the knight clad in white and gold armor had not uttered a word since the beginning of the interaction, but you paid it no mind. 

“Not much of a talker huh?” You joked, now sitting down. Tristan laughs, nodding along in agreement. Though it was a curiosity, how Tristan knew his name, you decided not to pry. 

Ever since your eventful meeting with the prince, it was from there that somehow everything went downhill; Getting to know him, finally entering the kingdom of Liones, meeting so many brand new people, his parents, some of his friends, and apparently finding out that Sir Gawain was indeed a woman. 

Then there was also Isolde, a tall woman with pink hair and green eyes. You thought without a shadow of a doubt that she was beautiful for her age, Gawain too. But you sincerely were unable to fathom how you could get along with Tristan after getting to know these two ladies. 

You began to feel weird, odd even. A thrashing turmoil of feelings and hate toward yourself, them. Being small was something they all had in common, they could easily hug each other. If you’ve ever even attempted to try to do something like that, you would no doubt hurt your would-be boyfriend in the process. 

Feelings weren’t exactly a linear thing, sometimes not easy to recognize either. But you could somehow know it, sense it. You really hated it, but the memories you made with knowing Tristan’s friends, him too — were something all so dear and precious to you. Not something you could so easily throw away, all for the sake of distance. 

So you began keeping your interactions with his friends to a minimum, that had also meant keeping your interactions with Tristan sparsely small. 

God, you hated it so much. He was smaller, you were huge, being a giant had its perks – but not being able to give Tristan affection was something that had killed you on the inside. You just sometimes simply wished that you would just one day wake up as a small person, and hug Tristan wholly with all your heart without injuring the boy. 

A particular someone, though his interactions with you were quite brief, could notice the way you began to get distant and had rarely interacted with Tristan, much to the detriment of your mental health. Chion wondered if he could be of some help in mending the relationship between you two, because frankly to him, it was beginning to be very tense and stuffy whenever the both of you were in the same vicinity. 

“Hey, woman.” A crass, but firm tone. You looked down, having already been crouched and stuffed your face in your hands for the last few minutes, scratch that — an hour. You sighed, a notable huff escaping your lips at your clear distrust of Chion, having seen his personality in action before. 

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, but your distancing with Tristan is bothering everyone.” He iterates, and despite his blunt and forward speech – he was also very worried about you. Actually both you and Tristan as well.  

You frown, re-adjusting your position to better face him. “You don’t get it Chion, I–” You paused, the thoughts flooding back in, and making you hesitant to continue. Causing the purple-haired boy to raise an inquisitive brow, so he waited for you to speak, though he was albeit known to be impatient at times. 

“Uh..” You sighed, shoulders deflating in defeat. Despiste knowing you could finally get things off your chest, it was so hard to actually force the words out your mouth. 

Chion simply walked closer, patting your knee with an understanding elation. “Keeping it in will do you no good, I should know.” He remarked, his single eye briefly closing. You chuckled with a slight chagrin inter-woven of your tone, though, you collected yourself. 

“Oh yeah, like the time you withheld information from everyone that Percival was a knight of prophecy?” You joked, causing him to sigh in disappointment, but nod along in agreement nonetheless. Oh how you wondered how Chion had even met Tristan, the only thing you knew about this particular piece of information was how the one was saved by the former, and from there Chion’s admiration for the prince grew. 

Chion fiddled with his staff for a moment, then spoke: “You should try speaking with him again, voice your concerns.” 

Suddenly you could feel your blood run cold at his suggestion, almost causing you to shout out to refute it. But you calmed down, reeling yourself in with a sigh, “How.. could i?” You were unsure of how to approach the subject, to talk to him about such things suddenly seemed so silly to speak of. 

“Try.” He insists, tilting his head as if the idea was the easiest thing in the world to execute. Your eyes flitted over to his form, a glimmer of recognition shining brightly in your pupils. 

You rested your head against your knees, sighing after a few moments. You closed your eyes as you responded with an exhausted tone, “Okay.”

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Vhagar's diary (The Point of view of a dragon) ((Slight spoof)

This fanfic has been dedicated to my friends, who told me to start writing and to kinda dont give a f what people think about it, tbf people will always moan.

The majestic dragon Vhagar shares her story, in a exclusive interview/tell all biography. What does she remember and what can she tell us about the past? What do we know? Vhagar tells all is part of a mini series featuring three parts of Vhagars life leading up to house of the dragon, with her ...unique thoughts and perspective!

I have always been a simple, elegant and well-educated dragon. I was born at Dragon Stone, which would become the ancestral seat of the Targaryens. The Targaryen family has plagued me for as long as I’ve been alive. From the very moment I hatched, I was wary and paranoid of those white-haired people. It was very clear to me, as with any other sane soul, that there was something incredibly wrong with them. So, naturally: I felt right at home in their presence!

I could hear the swords clash whenever Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys were around. I could smell the sweet smell of blood whenever they were near and feel the fire burn in their veins, yes all that is true. But I must admit that I never felt more comfortable as I did at Dragonstone. It is perhaps a bit childish, but I hatched there. It shall always be my home.

What did I think of the three conquerors personally? Aegon smelled funny. He smelled like cattle and he had a big dragon called Balerion. Aegon was a true Targaryen in name, and birthright, and shared this wonderful bloodthirsty mind that befitted a Targaryen. He also gave me treats whenever Visenya would look away. Aegon married both Rhaenys and Visenya, for some reason I as a dragon quite don’t understand. But he preferred Rhaenys over Visenya, unfortunately. 

It was difficult for me when he died, I’ll admit it. I wish I had killed him for the pain he inflicted on Visenya. That will forever be my greatest regret, dear reader. I lit his funeral pyre, but I must admit it is no fun lighting a corpse that has been killed by a better, clever and stronger someone before you.

Rhaenys was a sweet boring woman and therefore never interested me, personally. But as Visenya’s first soldier, loyal servant and beloved pet I had to see and watch how Aegon treated Rhaenys and Visenya and let me tell you it was so difficult to not breathe fire at each of them whenever i saw them together.

Visenya. Visenya was the cleverest sweetest most generous and greatest woman that ever lived and shall ever live, mark my words and count my scales! From the moment we bonded, I knew, that woman was a special soul, like me. I could tell, because these are my words, so you have to either buy them, or leave it. 

I remember after she and I bonded; she did a victory ride, with me, soaring through the skies. I never had been bonded before, and no rider’s bond would be as strong as the one I shared with her. I always suspected that Visenya and I were part of the same soul, brought together by fate. We were meant to die together, too. 

Aegon, the pervert, was watching us, and now that she did have a dragon, he was interested in marrying his other sister as well. Visenya was happy. I think I know why. She was finally noticed. She was finally good enough.

From the moment I hatched, I always have been in Balerion’s shadow. Quite literally. Have you seen the size of that beast? But sadly, it is true, I swear on my beautiful horns. The Black dread, they called him. He inspired genuine fear, true terror in ways I could only dream of. You must know, that I was quite the pathetic baby lizard at that time, but I grew and I grew harder out of pure spite, jealousy, and determination. 

It was a sight to behold, the conquest. So many burning things, so many fleeing things! Visenya and I flew to Stokeworth. I never understood humans very well, but according to Visenya StokeWorth was not first in line when the gods handed out brains. They shot bolts at us until I turned the castle roofs to crisp and ash. 

At some point, they crowned Aegon too, I can’t recall when it happened, as I don’t really care about Aegon, much as you can probably tell.  I do recall Visenya feeding me a nice big cowhead as a thank you for my loyal servitude. I never had any friends, but she comes close to what I would consider a friend if you must know.

Castles fell at our feet, men begged us for mercy, they screamed prayers at their gods as I and the other dragons soared above the skies of Westeros, teaching it the meaning of ‘Fire and Blood’. It felt great to be a part of something bigger than me, something that I would know would last centuries. Something that I would know would last long after I had left behind this, earthy crispy shell of a ball.

It was great. But like all great things, this came too an end. 

The Dornish people killed Rhaenys and the dragon Meraxes in Dorne. Aegon never was the same after their deaths, neither was Visenya. There was this hole left in her soul that no dead body could fill. We went on a beautiful trip to Dorne, avenging the fallen Queen and her dragon. I did not care much for revenge; I was just happy to be invited and to taste Dornish. 

Aegon died in 37 AC, and I was invited to light his funeral pyre. I did so with great pride and effort, happy to see the flames lick away the remains of that man. Visenya had again lost something very dear to her, and she remained close to me. The eldest of the three, yet the last alive.

In 41 AC, I saw my birthplace again. Visenya had taken me back to Dragonstone, when Aenys, one of the sons Aegon had fathered, named another Aegon, the prince of Dragonstone, which made him the heir of the Targaryen kingdom we just conquered. I pray to their ‘gods’ whatever these might be, that this is the final man named Aegon in the Targaryen dynasty, as this dragon already finds this incredibly confusing.  I understand my lady was very upset. We passed the moon, and it turned red, according to witnesses. Well, those had a little bit too drink, I think. I did not see such a thing. 

It fell from the skies and shattered. I did see that. But what they claim? No that’s a lie, my apologies. 

The rest of the tale that follows is the tale of the maesters, of corrupt men writing on powerful women. I would not speak ill of the dead, though I do so with much pleasure, but my Visenya was no evil woman. She was gentle with me, she was good and kind. She had given dozens of reasons to burn her sister and brother alive, jealousy being the main one. I must admit, perhaps time erased all the horrible things Visenya did, and only made her sweet in my memory. I do not see Visenya as some beacon of goodness. I see her as any dragon should see their riders: Once upon a time, I was confronted by a girl who stared into my eyes, tears running down her face, begging for a chance to become a Queen. And I gave it to her.

As a dragon, it is hard for me to remember all this stuff. I did not become attached to much humans in my lifetime. Most I ate. But Visenya was unique for I felt we had a connection. A deep connection that threw us together and bound us. 

It was terrifying watching Visenya visit me, every time a little thinner, and a little thinner. I once shared my cow with her, but she did not like the meat, I think. Visenya was declared dead in the year 44 AC, but she died much earlier, I tell you. I watched her die, multiple times a day, multiple times a year, until I finally felt this, horrible emptiness. I wept and screamed, breathed fire until I had blackened the walls of dragonstone, but none of it mattered. I knew she was gone. Nothing could bring her back. I felt alone, truth be told.

At that moment, all I wanted was to join her. We should have died together, fighting as warriors. They call my lovely lady a Kinslayer, perhaps a Kingslayer and a murderer and an unfaithful witch. Well, let them, I say. My lady remains one of the most iconic queens of the Targaryen dynasty, and I shall forever be proud she was my first rider. 

She was amazing.

Not as amazing as me, but be honest: Who even can be?!

Vhagar's diary ends here. A part two might be in the works, I love vhagar very much and i like imagining her life but clearly she forgets/misremembers things and its so fun to write something else for a change.

[xinnabon]

he's the type to...!!!

#kazuha & albedo x gn!reader

note; "he's the type to" edition!!! but these are basically just wholesome, on crack, short, and definitely hcs that don't make sense at all.

requests are allowed to be sent but do take in mind that i will take longer than expected since i would require your patience over this. also no nsfw, i'm a minor.

i don't think this is proof read since i just wanted to post after months.

+KAZUHA

he's the type to dance like old married couples with you. life awaits him and now that you're here, many outcomes behold in the future to the two of you as time comes, as he wants you to be a part of it.

he's the type to wait for you. if you're going to be gone long, he'll support you and still stay loyal. why is that?

he's the type to sing for you. the questionable thing is, its like he's alluring you to sleep after a hard day. he has some poems he made and just make it in song form to just make you more sleepier just trying to understand what it means. i do wonder if it does matter.

he's the type to be like a knight. even though he is a noble himself, it is never a burden to sweep you up your feet. saving you and saving himself.

he's the type to lift your stuff. maybe when you try moving in with him, he'd do all sorts of things just to make you feel welcomed enough, or its just simply carrying certain grocery. who knows.

he's the type to write about you ACCIDENTALLY. maybe he'd reflect it over something he foresaw or just something he takes value of and inspired him. as he progresses, it eventually turns about you.

(previous bullet extended) "a promise is made out of true loyalty and devotion in committing to someone. either you spouse, friend, family, or even to someone as hard as rock to figure out, it is still a must to be able to harnest your ability and fulfil it. someday, somewhere, somehow, i'll have the will to promise to my own spouse. to make due with at the end of " he scraps it off. (bonus if he just keeps it somewhere instead)

he's the type to save drafts from his writing. he probably has a lot and likes looking at it since it sounds so direct and a few mistakes... just often poorly written or not understandable enough to comprehend.

he's the type to be caught rambling too much about a certain topic or interest by "reflection". he'd go all out and get sympathetic, just by thinking as well what other people would think about it. you sometimes tell him over and over again but maybe he can't stop because it may take advantage of him.

+ALBEDO

he's the type to never judge. even at times of being reckless, he wouldn't bother to pressure you further. he is someone to trust whenever you fear of one's opinion or possible judgement that can lead as an offense. no. he would never.

he's the type to doodle. whenever you come by while he is working or watching him work, he does horrible but cute doodles of the both of you while writing specific formulas or other materials he does. he thinks that it serves as entertainment for you.

he's the type to ramble and fidget around. again, working. you can hear him spitting out certain hypothesis, possibilities, formulas, or literally... anything. he likes it just because he thinks that it can help progress his mind more.

he's the type to be clueless. maybe the first time you were trying to court him, he thought you were just trying to hell regardless of the weird pick up lines you did to get his attention. you literally told him off that you liked him and the fact he only knew now at that moment.

he's the type to accidentally baby you. he's pretty much used to being with klee all the time to the point he is overly protective even if you doubt it. as in, he would ask if you are comfortable with him or not. maybe he does need a break.

he's the type to generally not know how to cook. he'd kept asking you how to just to spend some time and improve. all he probably knows is just to make daily every morning coffee.

he's the type to be less self-conscious around you. people are horribly terrifying to be with because it's either they'd want to test you or even aggravate you to your limit. not you. no. you'd never do that to him. he did thought about it but as timed leaned and further passed, with you, nothing will interfere.

he's the type to be your tutor. history or chemistry, he'd know. instant head aches just hearing him teach you but he doesn't bother to make an issue out of it. but of course, he'll be cut out in trying to go a more simpler level for you. (not an insult...)

he's the type to do crossword puzzles or just puzzles in general. he can be bored or just in a burnt out, and you know all about the cerebrum and testing your brain to become more knowledgeable per puzzle or anything. he liked asking you if you ever want to do some with him but maybe that's your fault for the lack of capacity you contain in your head that you refuse to at times.

[purplink8]

you make good points I just want to add that by “using with intend” I mean his massacre of a large amount in the beginnng to which ryuk said “you are the first person to do so”

Thanks for clarifying that! I will link 2 relevant posts here & here, which imo do a much better job at explaining the issue (you mention) in a thorough manner. Nevertheless, I will answer your ask.

I think you're referencing the following scene, yes?

You are correct in that Light does kill a LOT of people in his killing spree. I will say however that context matters. (Friendly reminder that I am not defending or justifying Light's actions (which are, frankly speaking, horrible), what I am doing is *explaining* his actions from his POV- which does not make me his apologist but I digress).

As I have mentioned in this post of mine, Light writes Otoharada's name into the death note without thinking that it'd actually work. He does not take its rules seriously and why would he? Magic notebooks that kill people are not real, are they? After 40 seconds, he is forced to realize that it's all real. The Note works, and what a horrific realization it is!

Especially for such a golden child like Light Yagami, the brightest student of Japan. Light says it himself:

"I'm a serious, straight-A, student...a model teenager." This is not just him bragging, it's shown again and again in canon just how exceptional Light is and how all the people around him say that they "can count on Light!". Additionally, his father is the chief in the NPA and has, understandably, a strong sense of justice evident in lines like these:

"I will not succumb to evil."

Light has deeply internalized these values; which is why Light resents being called evil very much. Being Kira or killing people goes against the very core of his father's ideals.

Remember, prior to discovering the Death Note, Light was for all intents and purposes, a law-abiding citizen (if we ignore his hacking skills). More importantly he excelled in every thing he tried- he played all his roles in his life amazingly well; he was the perfect son, the best brother Sayu could've asked for, "a serious, straight-A student", "a model teenager" and so on.

All this to say that pre-Kira!Light views himself as a virtuous, Righteous person. He has this image of himself which is absolutely valuable to him, that he is a good person. In canon, it's shown that pre-Kira!Light is the most reliable person in terms of skill, intelligence, and good intentions.

Imagine how he'd feel after he has accidentally killed Otoharada. His experimenting with a harmless prank (as he had imagined) has cost the life of an individual. He is appalled:

He cannot bring himself to believe it. It must be a coincidence:

He has to convince himself that it's a coincidence, because if it's not, it would mean that the best student in Japan has become a murderer. That is why he decides to try the Note again. To confirm his hope that it is indeed a coincidence. Thus, he tests the Note on Takuo Shibuimaru to see what happens. And lo and behold, Shibuimaru *actually* dies (very violently at that, I might add), Light's worst fear has come true:

Now he can't blame it all on coincidences or remain in plausible deniability. A grim realization that he has killed two people is forced onto Light:

Look at his eyes, the poor kid is horrified, in the worst manner possible, that he has unwittingly become a murderer. He's become nauseous, sick to his stomach, he panics, he even contemplates (even if it's for just a few moments) just throwing the Death Note away:

Casual reminder that before finding the Note, Light has been an admirable role model to all those who meet him. People who know him, have immense respect towards him. He's the son of the chief of the NPA, like that fact isn't lost on Light and I imagine it adds on to the expectations others have of him, and the thing is? He delivers on those expectations. No he's even better than that- he raises the standard set by the society.

Now remember all this info & combine it with the fact that the one person whom everyone can count on, has become a murderer (his two kills were accidental but still). Light's view of himself as a person is at risk of being drastically shifted very negatively. Light has tried his whole life to be righteous at all costs (as he follows Soichiro's ideals) however these two kills are too threatening to his identity and morality.

Light is not used to failures even minor ones, he's successful at an amazing degree in his life, and these two incidents easily take the cake, so as to speak.

Think back to his first reaction to becoming an accidental murderer: "What do I do... Get...rid of this evil thing..."

Notice something? If he does decide to get rid of the Death Note as per his thoughts, he'd be admitting (at least to himself) in his conscience that he made the two mistakes. Disposing of the Note would crystallize his mistakes for what they are as he can't just bring back those two victims back to life, can he? There's no way to bring back the dead (Death Eraser was only part of the pilot chapter). It is an irreversible mistake of gigantic proportions.

But "we can count on-" Light Yagami doesn't make mistakes, much less a criminal offence, right? Since the mistake is neither reversible (such as spelling a word incorrectly which you Can undo/erase) nor small, Light can either accept those mistakes, live with the guilt they cause him for the rest of his life OR he can deny that those were mistakes.

You may wonder, how can he possibly live in such a denial? Isn't he supposed to be a genius or something? And the answer to that is good old rationalization Light is a professional rationalizer imo. In a matter of seconds (proving how quickly he thinks), he has already gone along where his defense mechanism leads him to:

It can't be a mistake if it was done intentionally, right? Light convinces himself that "This is what I've been thinking all along..."

I'd like to point out that while Light does think the world is rotten before getting the Death Note. He doesn't extend his thinking to "The world needs to be cleaned up" via murder until after the two deeds are done. Light would move Mu and earth for maintaining the belief that, he is righteous, true no matter what. Still, whether he rationalizes the heck out of his actions or not, his self-image is shattered irrevocably and he can never be the same person again no matter how hard he tries.

This, i.e., coming into terms that this is what he wanted, wants, and will want re: the whole killing criminals to make the world a better place, does not happen overnight. Light gradually adjusts to this massive change in his worldview over the course of the next few days:

He acknowledges that it isn't easy by any means.

In true Light Yagami fashion (by which I mean, how he's the most suitable person to "count on", THE number 1 student in all of Japan, his self-image being a very VERY Righteous person etc etc). he goes "With great power, comes great responsibility" (instead of getting spiderman's power, he has the power to kill) and he is determined that only he can handle this responsibility.

Only he is brave enough, intelligent enough, responsible enough, righteous enough to be entrusted with the future of the whole world as he'll slowly but surely transform the world into a better place. Of course it won't be easy! That's why only he can do it. He is one tough cookie to be sure for better or for worse like others would've been too scared after killing 2 people and would naturally give up. Not Light tho as to him giving up would be akin to accepting that he fucked up.

But he's Light 'doesn't make mistakes' Yagami, he cannot be a failure as a murderer. He's not used to disappointing others at all. I know I'm stressing this a lot, and it's because to really understand Light, you'd have to know how he is before finding the Note. At the risk of sounding redundant, let's summarize how pre-Kira!Light is.

He's popular, smart, admirable and most importantly, he has great prospects ahead of him. Yes, he does think the world is rotten but he *is* also passionate with respect to changing the current scenario. He has a very strong sense of justice. And I would argue that at the age of only 17, the black & white morality (y'know that criminals deserve to die?) of his is not that unusual. He probably would've matured past that thinking had he not found the Death Note.

Alas that doesn't happen, and he's forced (by himself only to maintain his positive self-image) to remain stuck at that mindset because otherwise? That'd imply that he made the exceedingly large mistake of killing 2 people. You cannot correct that mistake, if you're as exceptional & good as Light Yagami, you have to choose to deny it was a mistake by thinking it was all deliberate. That's how he copes.

That still doesn't make it okay, and Light knows that all too well as he loses sleep & weight:

I believe that now we're at a stage to understand just why did Light kill all those hundreds(? idk the exact number) of people afterwards. After he shows Ryuk how many names he's written, he says this:

Light (before Ryuk tells him otherwise) fully believed that there would be consequences, most likely: Light's death, for using the Death Note. He's tremendously guilt-ridden after 2 kills, and he thinks he's already damned to lose his life/soul once the Shinigami arrives. He will, according to his logic, die at an age of mere 17 years. All his ambitions, dreams, future aspirations gone in a poof of smoke. He's too young to die; what about his life's purpose? He (like any other human being really) wished to have a meaningful life.

He figures, if he's already doomed by 2 kills, why not kill more people (who deserve to die, i.e., criminals from Light's POV)? This serves 2 purposes:

If he continues killing by using the notebook, he can reinforce the denial in his mind, that using the Note on the first 2 criminals wasn't a mistake. The equation goes as follows: Mistakes happen unintentionally & Light does not make mistakes = Killing those 2 was not a mistake & it was all intentional actually.

If he's going to die anyway, why not die as a martyr for his cause? Why not kill most of the other criminals in the world to have the maximum positive impact? So that he can rest in peace knowing that his actions *did* matter in the grand scheme of things.

And that's why I believe, he goes on his killing spree. His logic, at a closer examination, is horseshit (like come on, solving accidentally killing 2 people with intentionally killing even more people? Still it's Light we're talking about) but it's his coping mechanism to which he clings dearly.

He hasn't deceived himself that killing is good, he just views himself + his integrity (and the lives of criminals) as a necessary sacrifice for the betterment of the world and to preserve his self-image as a righteous citizen.

So yes, he kills them with intent. That's the point I'm trying to make. Intent is essential as the lack of it would indicate that Light fucked up. And since he is of utmost conviction that he cannot fuck up, he has carved out this path in which the ends justify the means and he was acting only according to how he always thinks "This world is rotten".

[beth-march]

Hello hello, I was wondering if you could explore Colin's insecurity, like when he wasn't sure Pen really loved him and whether or not she really wanted to marry him etc? I was inspired by a TikTok of them with the quote "someone who thinks they are unlovable and someone else who loves them like it's breathing" and how it can go both ways with them

Hello! Thank you for this prompt. It was an important one for me to fill because Colin is very dear to me and his insecurities are not discussed enough.

You can read it on AO3 here or under the cut:

Doubt does not impede Colin until the night of the engagement party. Standing before almost every person that matters to him, holding a flute of champagne aloft in the air, he dedicates a gushing toast to his bride-to-be. Penelope beholds him with reverence. She is ethereal in her violet swirls, with a silk ribbon nestled in her loose curls. Colin wonders if she has arranged her hair this way in accommodation of the preference he expressed when he let her hair down, during their first visit to their new home.

This night, like every other that has passed since she accepted his proposal, glows with perfect happiness. It does not matter that Penelope has not told him that she loves him. He believes he knows the contents of her heart and he understands why somebody so downtrodden, so brave, is bashful about being vulnerable. Colin has nothing but patience for her.

Then he notices a pained flicker in her expression, and his confidence falters. He does his best to reassure himself, but his hope for comfort is diminished when she avoids his eyes for the rest of the evening. For a period, she disappears from his view altogether, untraceable even when he follows after her, roaming empty hallways in vain. The walls stretch blankly, eerily, in every direction he turns. He does not like to relent, but she does not want to be found.

When Penelope returns to the drawing room, Colin bolts off the settee and bends down, crowds her space. She looks at him, shuddering with anguish and struggling to breathe.

“I know something is bothering you,” Colin tells her. “I can feel it. All evening, you’ve been shirking my gaze.”

“No, Colin – ”

“I would understand,” he implores her, “if you got swept up in the carriage, if you do not now share my feelings.”

He ignores the way his spirit shatters from within. It is unimportant, compared to her. She must know that he would not begrudge her if she did not want to marry him, however much anguish this outcome would bring him.

(If he has misinterpreted her feelings, he has taken unpardonable liberties with her. Colin is ashamed to realise that he is uncertain if he is more dismayed by the prospect of causing her regret or by the prospect of never repeating those liberties with her. He knows one thing with certainty: that she has ruined him for love. This is it for him, whether or not it is for her.)

A moment later, his abstract dread is swapped for simple fear, when an announcement from Cressida Cowper sends Penelope crumbling to the floor. Colin has never known her to swoon. Helpless, horrified, he clings to her prone form. He falls first to his knees and then to his hands, lying alongside her. He frets and fails until she rouses. Her eyes open, and in their glazed blue, restore colour to the world. 

Penelope uses her first moment of lucidity to shrink from the faces that hover above her. She twists in place, alarmed, but calms when she registers Colin’s presence. A relieved whimper escapes her as their eyes meet and she tucks herself closer to him, cowering into his chest. They are half-entangled, horizontal. Colin cannot help but recall their time on the settee. He holds her waist, remembering how she feels here when she is bare. 

Their familiarity is scandalous, but Penelope is not herself, and Colin is beside himself with worry. He shoots glares at his guests, people he loves or likes or regards well enough, and demands that they move out of the way to grant his betrothed some breathing space.

Once the majority of their gazes have strayed, Colin returns his attention to Penelope. Gently, he eases her upright and tilts her to sit against him.

“Careful, Pen. Take a moment to catch your breath.”

“What happened?” Penelope asks, her voice warbled, her eyes wide.

“You had a brief fainting spell,” Colin says softly. “You told me you could not breathe. Shall we try together?”

She looks at him with embarrassment and exasperation. “I know how to breathe, Colin.”

“Let us breathe with purpose; slowly, deliberately,” he insists. He takes her hand and places it on his sternum; lets his chest puff in and out with exaggerated inhales and exhales.

After a few steady heartbeats, Penelope begins to relax. Colin can see the effect he has in the colour that fills her cheeks, in the spark that overcomes her fretful eyes. She cups his chest through his vest and his shirt, groping him as he often dreams about touching her. The connotation is different, when she is grappling for stability and he is giving it to her.

“That’s it, Pen. That’s good,” Colin murmurs, caressing her hand.

A servant arrives with a cold compress in hand. Colin takes it from her with a quiet thanks and applies it carefully across Penelope’s flushed forehead. Droplets from the crinkled fabric dribble down the bridge of her nose, onto her cheeks. She peers at him from beneath her cloth, hefty adoration in her eyes. She has looked at him in this tender manner so often as of late. When she looks at him this way, Colin cannot fault himself for presuming she returns his feelings. She gives every impression of a girl in love.

“Thank you, Colin,” she whispers.

Colin smiles tremulously, strokes her hair. “You gave me such a fright.”

It is a terrific understatement of a feeling that has not waned, despite her indications of recovery. Colin feels desperate to look after her, to ensure she rests as she requires. He tells her she must return home to her bed, and she agrees in a daze, though she clings to him tighter.

Outside Bridgerton House, Colin and Penelope stand with their mothers, awaiting the Featherington carriage. Despite their company, Penelope remains in the circle of Colin’s arms, huddled close to his form. She is so close that he thinks she wishes to disappear within his embrace. For the way she closes her eyes and smothers her face, she seems to be hiding.

Colin ducks down, presses a kiss to her forehead. “Please promise me you will not exert yourself in the coming days. You must take care to rest as much as you need.”

“I promise,” Penelope says. “Colin, what you said earlier – ”

“It does not matter now,” he interrupts her. “We shall discuss it another time.”

She raises her face to show him that same doubting look from his toast. Colin wishes he knew what combination of words would assuage her doubt in him. He cannot blame her for holding it. She was on the precipice of betrothal to a wealthy, titled lord. Now she is engaged to a directionless third son.

“Colin,” Penelope says gravely. “I did not accept your kisses in the carriage on a whim. I realise that night was quite a whirlwind, but please hear me when I tell you that I was very deliberate in the choices I made with you. Of course I share your feelings. I desperately want to marry you. It would be amusing that you doubt my affection for you, if it were not so heartbreaking.”

Strong relief surges through him. It is not enough to absolve the weight on his shoulders – that will not leave him until he has proven himself indisputably worthy of her – but it at least erodes his fear that he will lose her.

He wishes he could kiss her. He brushes a thumb over the rosebud of her lips, hoping she will understand. She tells him that she does with the stars that shine in her eyes.

Colin plucks at the ties of his cravat with ineffective vigour. He is fostering frustration with these half-hearted efforts, huffing by the time he finally loosens the weavings. He throws the garment across the room with such force that it slaps audibly against the wall.

He sinks into the nearest chair and buries his face in his hands.

“Colin?”

For the first time in his memory, Colin is mortified to hear his wife’s voice. He makes haste to straighten in his seat and clear his face of any bland emotion. Penelope stands in the doorway, her stance hesitant. He is surprised to see her; upon his return home, he greeted her with a chaste kiss and told her he intended to write alone in the study for the afternoon. He hoped to avoid her seeing him this way.

“What is it, Penelope?” Colin sighs.

A worried crinkle appears on her brow. Colin can see her resolve blooming into existence. Penelope walks into the study and comes to stand directly in front of him. She cups his face between her hands, holds him as she would during a happy moment.

Inside, Colin shrivels. He does not push her away, but nor can he look at her. He stares instead at his cravat, where it curls on the floor, and swallows the sour flavour in his throat. A voice in his head screams that she deserves better than this.

“Something vexes you,” Penelope says. “Tell me what it is.”

“I am well.”

“Colin,” she says, sounding cross now. “There is no point in attempting to deceive me. I am your wife and your closest friend. I know you too well to be fooled by you.”

“I do not intend to fool you,” Colin mutters. “I intend to spare you.”

“What, exactly, do you intend to spare me from?” Penelope asks. She turns his jaw, forcing the alignment of their gazes, forcing him to read the love and concern written on her face. It floors him. Colin can only repay her devotion with honesty.

“I am in an unpleasant mood. I mean to keep my distance from you until it abates.”

Penelope only seems further confused. She drops his chin, folds her arms. “We have been apart for most of the day. I have missed you.”

“As I have missed you. But I am afraid my company would not be amiable at present.”

“That does not matter to me,” Penelope retorts. “You are still you, and I still want to be around you. Perhaps we could discuss what has incited your unpleasant mood.”

Colin blinks at her in amazement. Recovering from his wonder, he shakes his head.

“I do not wish for you to worry about me,” he says, softly.

A humourless chuckle escapes her. It reminds him of the first ball of the season just passed, where she wore dark emerald and redefined his understanding of beauty, where she called him Mr Bridgerton and told him she expected better of him. It remains the most necessary admonishment of his life.

“I worry about you constantly,” Penelope says. “I am concerned about your welfare and your happiness every day. It is a perpetual consideration, underlying my every waking moment, affecting every choice I make.”

Her words remind him very much of the feelings he carries for her. Colin is surprised. He recalls those early days of their engagement, when she was still gathering the bravery to tell him she loved him, when he was waiting patiently. He wanted her to love him but he never expected her to love him as much as he did her.

It did not seem possible. Even in its realisation, it does not seem possible.

Penelope reaches for his hands, pulls them to her lips.

“You cannot expect the people who love you not to worry about you,” she whispers.

There is novelty in this proclamation. Colin has spent most of his life trying not to cause his family any worry. As one of eight, he has wanted to lessen the burden on his parents – then on his eldest brother – for as long as he can remember. Only recently, his mother revealed that she saw through his act with perfect clarity, telling him, You have always been one of my most sensitive children, always aware of what others need, always trying to be helpful or offering a joke to lighten the mood. You so rarely put yourself first.

His mother suggested it might have been painful. Colin knows she is right. It is painful to bear the feelings of others and it is painful to pursue alleviation in isolation. The weight is heavy. With Penelope, the weight is slipping.

“I have done my best to avoid causing my family any worry,” Colin confesses in a low murmur. “It has been my intention to lessen their burden since I was a child.”

Penelope makes a sympathetic noise and smooths her thumb over his aching temple.

“I am not surprised. You are so considerate of the needs of the people you love.”

He realises that he wants her closer to him and leans forward. Penelope winds her arms around his shoulders, tucks his head under her chin. Colin sighs, realises that he has never felt more safe than he does now, in the cradle of her arms.

“Your efforts are honourable, Colin, but you must not continue with them,” she says, kissing his head. “It would break my heart to know that you were suffering alone.”

“I am not exactly suffering,” Colin assures her, surfacing from her embrace with a lopsided smile. “I am merely processing my feelings. I have always managed this way. But I will be in better spirits soon.”

Penelope does not seem appeased, but rather exasperated. “I want to stand by you in these difficult moments. I care as much for you in your anger and your sadness as I do in your happiness.”

Colin wishes he had taken a walk to calm down before he returned home. This conversation is more than he knows how to handle. There is no hiding from the woman who holds so much of him.

“I simply want to give you the best of me,” he manages to say.

“There is no such thing,” Penelope tells him. “There is only you.”

What a sobering thought, imbued with logic that only serves to enhance his fear. Of course he cannot improve himself beyond illusion. Of course his wife sees him for exactly who he is.

“Colin,” Penelope says his name with precision, with care. “You are so precious to me. So dear. You know that, don’t you? I love you more than anything in this world.”

He knows. He knows even as he struggles to believe it, as he learns new measures of it. There is no mistaking the love that makes Penelope glow, no questioning what shines in her gaze.

“I know.”

Her first flicker of relief shows on her face and pulls along his comfort in turn. Penelope sinks to sit on his lap and Colin accepts her with eager arms. No longer taller than him, she gazes up at him with wide, loving eyes.

“Tell me what has happened to make you throw your cravat across the room.”

Colin chuckles at her. “Perhaps the cravat itself is to blame. It is rather restraining.”

Penelope grins. “I am aware. I take great issue with your cravats for that very reason – as well as for the manner in which they conceal you.”

She skims her fingers over the bare skin of his throat, along his collarbones and his chest. He sighs, leans into her, wishes this conversation were over so he could hold her.

“But I know you are too patient to become angry over a cravat,” she says, steadying her touch, trailing it down his front. “Please tell me what has upset you.”

Colin can recognise that he must relent. He realises that he wants to confide in Penelope, though the notion of informing her about his bad day brings him shame. Beyond burdening his wife, he does not want to embarrass himself in her presence.

“Was it your meeting with your publisher?” Penelope prods, gently.

“Partly,” Colin admits, sighing. “I have had an unusually trying day. My publisher was quite critical of my final chapter. I was content with it – and you said you were proud of it – so it had not entered my mind as a possibility that it would be unsatisfactory.”

The pain incited in his spirit now shimmers in Penelope’s dolorous blue eyes.

“Sweetheart,” she murmurs.

“Then I had the misfortune of running into some old acquaintances that I am ashamed to have ever considered my friends,” Colin continues. “They were, predictably, ill-mannered and rude. Perhaps they are entitled to think little of me after I discarded their company so abruptly. I am not certain why their words linger with me. I should not care what such deplorable people think.”

Living for the estimation of others is a trap, he once told her, despite the mask under which he hid. The concept is true and much more elusive than how he presented it to be. Penelope understood then what Colin only sees now.

She seems fascinated by his confession. She strokes his hair, says, “I believe we are more alike than I realise.”

Colin brightens. “That is certainly a consolation.”

“I speak in earnest,” Penelope says, giggling. “I have often wondered why it is that I care about how I am perceived by people I hold in low esteem.”

He hums. “Have you reached a conclusion?”

“Of sorts. It is natural to be moved by jarring words. I cannot be expected to replace feeling with reason and simply set aside my reactions to cruelty. Nor can you.”

Perhaps this is another lesson they can learn together. Colin was not joking when he proclaimed to be comforted by Penelope’s familiarity with his predicament. Knowing that his hero is fallible makes him feel better about being fallible, himself.

“You are, as always, correct,” Colin murmurs.

She smiles at him. “I hope you will take my words to heart. You have every reason to feel hurt after such a difficult day. But, you should know, your publisher holds the opinion of one subjective man. Your old acquaintances only appreciated you after you attempted to alter your personality. They know nothing about you. They have nothing real to say about you.”

Colin is startled by the rich warmth he feels, blanketing the bitter disappointment that he has sat within all day. He should thank Penelope, he knows, but his tongue feels heavy with a gratitude so profound that he doubts he could ever articulate it.

Does she know that she is the first person in his life to look at him so closely?

Love has been a constant in Colin’s life. Coming from such a warm, affectionate home, he has never doubted that he is loved. But time and attention are finite even for an attentive family. Colin often thinks about the letters his family left unanswered while he was abroad. He thinks abouts how Anthony seemed to like him more when he was pretending to be a rake. He thinks about his peers telling him that he was fun in his falsity, then mocking him when he confessed even a whisper of his true feelings. He thinks about Marina, attempting to unspool his life and then calling him a boy when he expressed sympathy for her.

He thinks about Penelope and the mindless ways that she loves him. How she plucks lint off his shoulder when she notices it there, how she smuggles biscuits home from tea parties she attends without him, how she checks his ink bottle before she refills her own. He thinks about how she clings tightly to his torso when they make love, how she has tea ready for him before he realises he is craving a cup, how she tucks her hand through his elbow when they are away from home.

Loving him is as easy as breathing for her, he thinks. Her love is singular and specific and unlike anything he has ever known.

“Come,” Penelope says, gesturing to the papers on his desk. “Let us go over your final chapter again.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hi! Hello! I heard you wanted some requests! So, may I request the SDV bachelors with a crush or S/O who is coeliac? Basically, they're allergic to gluten and it can make them very sick if they eat it. Cross contamination is also a big issue (spoon touch bread -> spoon touch salad -> can't eat salad)!

Hope this isn't a bad ask! Have a lovely week! :]

Hi Snake, glad to see you in my askbox! 👋

And don't worry, that's a pretty good question. I hope you like this silly HC. Have a lovely week as well 😊

Alex:

Alex always reminds his grandmother about Farmers' gluten intolerance, as Evelyn often cooks pies, donuts, and other sweet pastries for a visiting guest at their house.

Paranoidly checks all utensils the Farmer will eat and drink with, making sure the cutlery has not previously touched wheat bread or similar food.

Fast as lightning, he is ready to carry the Farmer in his arms to Harvey's clinic if they get sick from accidentally eating bread.

Alex keeps track of his diet, because he is going to become a sports star, so if the Farmer wants, he will help with the diet (in consultation with Dr. Harvey, of course).

Although sometimes it is difficult for him to refuse the delicious pastries of his granny.

The Farmer doesn't want Alex to limit himself in this, but the athlete is seriously worried about the health of his friend (crush)/partner.

George benefits from it all ("More food for me!" "Grandpa...")

Elliott:

Oh goodness! Elliott didn't know about it.

But it's good that the Farmer told him about their gluten intolerance. He would not want to hurt his close friend because of his and ignorance.

"Excuse me, my friend, I'll leave you for a moment. Make yourself at home in my little cabin."

Elliott ran as fast as he could towards the Saloon.

"Gus, emergency! The table for two is still stands, but gluten-free meals must be served! This is important! Don't even touch the baked goods please, I beg you! I can't let them go to the hospital because of me, I can handle it if something bad happened to them! Goodness me!"

Gus knew from the first minute that the dishes needed to be served gluten-free, but the emotional writer still continued to punish himself for not knowing about Farmer's illness.

"He's a fine drama actor, alright" Gus thought, pretending he was still listening to the dramatic writer.

Elliott is willing to sacrifice his favorite crab cakes to keep the Farmer happy and healthy.

"I can make them without flour, just have something to replace."

"Gus, why didn't you say that! Then I order, for me and my partne-, I mean, a good friend! Oh, marvelous!"

Any whim at your expense, Mr. Writer.

Sam:

The Farmer has never eaten pizza?!

Sam is saddened by the realization that because of the coeliac, the Farmer is unable to taste the food of the gods, the great invention of mankind, the food without which almost none of his rehearsals with Abigail and Sebastian take place.

"Dude, it's just pizza." "Just pizza?! Seb, how can you say that!"

But without pizza-drama, Sam is now very careful about this information.

He doesn't give the Farmer any snack that has gluten in it.

Sam will tell his mom about it, in case the Farmer comes to visit and the musician himself is not there.

He also asks her if there is a recipe for gluten-free pizza.

"Because man, pizza is a great human creation that everyone need to try. And no intolerance should prevent people from being happy!"

(Sammy, it's just pizza)

Luckily for him, Jodi just happened to have a gluten-free recipe book. And, lo and behold, the pizza recipe is there too!

Jodi made it especially for the Farmer, as the Farmer is also her friend, a real sweetheart, and Sam seems to like them a lot ;) ("Mom!")

The pizza was really tasty. And the Farmer can safely eat it with Sam without fear for their health.

Indeed, the food of the gods!

Harvey:

Oh, Harvey understands Farmer very well. And not only as their doctor, but also as another person who doesn't tolerate gluten.

Friend or partner, he will never forget this when cooking if the Farmer dropped by to visit Harvey. He also doesn't forget about this when dispensing medicines and vitamins if the Farmer has caught a cold or other illness.

If they feel bad about accidentally eating a cookie, then Harvey will immediately come running to their call.

No wonder Harvey is very concerned about Farmer's health - he's a doctor after all, and the effects of coeliac can be very unpleasant (and sometimes life-threatening).

He still doesn't ever lose his temper if there's an emergency, so Harvey's friend (or spouse) is in safe hands.

The doctor is sorry that this disease is incurable. But it's not even that he and the Farmer can't eat pastries (Harvey dislike sweets and pies anyway, preferring vegetables and healthier food). It's just that even the slightest touch of your cutlery with gluten food can provoke an exacerbation of symptoms.

But he will keep an eye on this as often as possible, and the Farmer will also remind Harvey of this if he gets busy and accidentally reaches for a box of biscuits in Pierre's store, confusing it with a box of rice.

Shane:

Coel-what? Can you repeat again?

It took Shane a little longer to figure out what the disease was. So the Farmer can't eat anything with gluten or they'll get sick?

"...Listen, I recently had a burger and pizza in the Saloon, and my hands are still a little dirty after eating. Should I move away from you?"

Shane immediately moved a meter away from the Farmer when they confirmed that cross contamination could also be a problem.

The Farmer feels guilty after this, but Shane told them not to worry about it. After all, it is not their fault that they are gluten intolerant.

"Maybe I fucked my own health, but I don't want to harm other people's health. I'm not a complete asshole."

Before meeting with the Farmer, he began to wash his hands more often.

Sometimes he will defend the Farmer at the fair if someone persistently offers the Farmer to taste the pastries.

Also, eggs don't contain gluten, so they can make a good launch for a guest who comes to Marnie's Ranch (or for a spouse's breakfast)

His chickens will never let you down. Good girls!

Sebastian:

"Oh, sorry..."

"Sebby, what are you sorry for?"

Well, doesn't that mean it will restrict his friend the Farmer from growing certain crops, like wheat, for example? It's just... sad.

Moreover, he just wanted to invite the Farmer to his basement for another Solarion Chronicles: The Game with snacks. But Sam always brings pizza and Abigail brings blueberry cobbler...

No, he doesn't want it to limit his friendship with the Farmer because of that. Therefore, Sebastian still invites the Farmer, promising that he will arrange everything.

Fortunately, Sam and Abby were sympathetic to the situation and prepared gluten-free snacks, since there was a lot of choice.

Although Sam was still a little dramatic. "They've never had pizza?! It's -" "Sam, shut up already."

The board game sessions were just as fun, and the seeki were delicious too.

Sebastian will now henceforth remember Farmer's coeliac. He also wanted to ask them out on a date- uh, he mean just have some fun time in the Saloon, play pool, maybe walk around the city after...

"A night with billiards and no pizza? Is this even legal? :D" "SAM!!!"

[yantalia545]

Yandere Axis + Russia with an accidental pregnancy

Germany:

Oh man, Germany is one of the last people on earth who would want a child. Not that he doesn’t like children. It’s just that he doesn’t know the first thing about them and after years of war and suspicion of others, he’s not the most in touch with feelings. Which is why he took you in the first place.

Germany is a careful man and made sure to take all the precautionary measures he could to ensure this exact thing wouldn’t happen, but lord and behold somehow this child had managed to worm their way past them all. Either this child is persistent or fate just can’t give Germany a break

However it happened, Germany is going to hit the books like he does in any situation he doesn’t understand. No matter how many book, baby help blogs, and news letters he can find though, he just can’t sink the feeling that he won’t be a good enough father to his unborn child. 

He’ll expect the same thing from you. He’s read dozens of times over how naïve parenting is the leading cause of early death and he won’t have that happen to his child. You’ll be expected to read too. He may even sign you up for parenting lessons or get you private trainer if you’re still being house trained. 

Germany had also read the common side effects of going through a pregnancy and is well prepared for that. Ice and heat pads, supporting pillows, pregnancy safe vitamins. He’ll even satisfy any food cravings you may have just as long as you been well behaved and taking your pregnancy seriously. 

If you thought Germany was controlling before you got pregnant then think again. This man is going to literally hover over you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or your child. He’ll even start controlling your diet to ensure that you give birth to a strong and healthy baby.

When the baby does finally come, all hell breaks loose. Germany will have a hard time adjusting to his new lifestyle of raising a child. He’s just never handled something so small and fragile before. He may have thought you were that way too and that’s why he had to take things into his own hands to protect you, but this is just a whole new level. For the first few weeks, Germany can hardly even hold his own child without thinking of every possible thing that could hurt you or his child.

I hope you enjoyed your time outside while you could because you’re not going to be having any of that for at least the next few years or so. Germany just can’t control his fear of something tremendous happening to the either of you so he’s taking every precaution he can. Heightened security, baby proofing everything in the house, and him only working from home being just a few of the things he’s changed.

The two of you are now his whole world now. Can’t you see that he’s only doing these things because of how much he loves the two of you?

Italy:

Very sneaky this one. He may or may not have either poked a hole in the condom or purposely forgot to put one on the last few times he’s did the deed with you. 

He just can’t help it! He just wanted a little bambina so badly and you kept saying no, so what else could he do! Not even his puppy eyes and hours of dragging you through baby stores would change your mind. How could you not see that tiny human clothes are just so dang cute!?

When you found out about his sneaky deed you were very upset, but it was nothing a little, okay few hours, of forced snuggling couldn’t fix. It may have taken quite a few of those. Italy did start to cry when you started to yell at him, but he would never do anything to hurt you. 

Italy was never one to punish you even before your pregnancy so your mood swings would be dealt with hug therapy and gaslighting. How can you still be mad about it after two weeks!? Shouldn’t you be happy to have a baby?

It has to be a girl. Italy hopes and prays everyday and night of your pregnancy that your child turns out to be a girl. He was nothing more than to dress her up in cute outfits and paint the days away.

Weirdly surprising though, when his little girl does finally arrive he’s an outstanding father; Helping with feedings, changing, and calming down his fussy baby. Italy’s a pro at them all. He may or may not have gotten a lot of advice from Hungary while you were pregnant though. 

Did I mention spoiled. Italy is going to spoil the crap out of his little bambina. Dozens of adorable outfits that match the whole family or just mommy and daughter, a whole room dedicated to art and play, ice-cream before dinner when your child is old enough. There’s little to nothing that he won’t do for you and his daughter. Well, except maybe do anything without him. He just wants to join in on the fun too.

Japan:

Although he wasn’t expecting it, he will use it to his full advantage. Japan will most certainly use your child as a reason to permanently glue to him. It would be a terrible thing to separate or abandon your own child. So many children become traumatized from experiences like that. You wouldn’t want that to happen to your own child now, would you? You want to be a good mother and give your child the best life full of happiness and love.

Like Germany, Japan also doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child, but he won’t ever stop trying to be the best father and give his child someone they can look up to in life.

If you’ve been good, you may be able to use your pregnancy to your own advantage as well. More time outside, picking out your child’s necessities, even foods you’ve been dying to have. Japan would gladly give you them all in order to support a healthy pregnancy and have something to bond over.

Just don’t go thinking that more outside and public time will get you anywhere close to escaping him. With your pregnancy, Japan is going to be more inclined to watching over you and his unborn child. 

If you think he took a lot of photos in the past, then girl you don’t know what’s up cuz it only gets worse the further along you get in the pregnancy. A maternity photoshoot is a must with him. Japan wants to savor every moment he can and use any opportunity he can go get close to you.

When he holds his newborn child in his arms for the very first time, something in him just clicks. It’s like a hole inside him that he didn’t even know was there was suddenly filled. This child. A product of the both of you formed into one being. Is this...what it feels like to be a father? 

Photos. Pictures upon pictures, sketches and paintings alike will be dedicated solely on you and your child. To him, the three of you together are the most perfect moments in his life. Why would he not want to capture every moment he can in permeate ink? And you were so perfect. Watching you with his child never failed to make his heart swell. You’ve even began to open up to him like you did before your kidnapping. Was this just the thing you two needed to bring the two of you together?

Russia:

I could see Russia on both ends of the spectrum. Maybe this was on purpose, maybe it was just because this man has never heard of condoms before, unless it’s to mess with America.

Either way, Russia is going to love every moment of it as well as take advantage of it.

Now that you are bearing his child, there’s no way you can leave him now. This child is the ultimate symbol of your love for each other, so why are you crying? He’s watched you in the past with children,(Most likely without your knowledge), so he knew from the very start of it all that you would make a very fine mother. Your nurturing personality may have been what started his obsession with you in the first place. 

Russia already was the type to keep you close, so of course, that only doubles when he finds out your pregnant with his child. He wants be with you every step of the way and make sure your safe at all times. Nothing bad will ever come to you or his child. 

Speaking of which, you will begin to notice that the staffing around here has been cut tremendously. The only people you notice that are left around here are the Baltics, but don’t count on them. They’ve been wiped into shape long before you even got there of the boundaries they must abide by when around you and to alert Russia of any interactions you guys have.

Don’t get my wrong, the Baltics do feel remorse for you. In fact, their even more horrified for you when finding out about your pregnancy. Or maybe it was due to their fear of a spawn of Russia running around the place. One Russia was already terrifying enough for them, they most certainly don’t need another. 

Security was already close to nonexciting in Russia’s home. After all, no one was better suited to protect you than Russia himself. That and, Russia is easily jealous of others when it comes to you, so he was already looking for ways to minimize your interaction with others.

When your child is finally brought in the world. Russia becomes ecstatic. At last, he finally has the family he’s always dreamed of. He may even breakdown into tears Russia didn’t even know he had when holding his newborn child for the very first time. 

Anything and Everything he does will always involve you and his child. The world outside is cold and harsh, but inside, it’s warmed by the love you all share for each other. At least in Russia’s demented mind. So why would anyone ever want to run or hide away. 

Although, I can’t shake the feeling of how amusing Russia will find it to beat the Baltics for making his child cry. Even if it was because they took away something that could potentially hurt the child. In Russia’s mind, they made one of his most precious possessions cry and now they must be punished! ^J^

He’ll stand over their beaten forms with his trusty metal pipe in one hand and his giggling child in the other. The way they clap their hands and laugh hysterically at their father’s work is more than enough to make Russia smile for the rest of the day. Much to yours and the Baltics horror.

[voidwritesstuff]

Nightwatch and Nightmares

Summary: war has to take the first half of the night watch on the maker tree,and finds himself with a human companion that leaves him wondering about just how far away in nature nephilim were from humans.

Cw: nightmares, unnamed human female character. (I dont really write x reader)

A/n: this was a gift for @moodymisty, also I have to clarify that I use dashes for dialogue!(my mother tongue is spanish, we use dashes for dialogue,thats just my writing style!). Misty I hope you like it!

He knew strife was going to get him tangled up in something,its strife we're talking about.

Which is how he finds himself keeping watch over the maker tree where all the humans were. He sits the at the edge of the entrance with his sword driven into the bark of the oversized Flora, the night Sky above twinkles with stars as its clear of any clouds.

He doesnt like this- being still and having to wait.

War has done it time and time again for missions,but this? This was different. He could do it- he would do it but he hated it.

Its the middle of the night, he hopes to at least crush a demon head. Instead,what he gets makes itself know with soft steps.

Walking behind him is a human girl,young, she holds on to her clothes as the air is a little chilly. Her eyes seem lost and she seems shaken.

The human sits close to the rider,perhaps because he meant safety and she needed some of that.

War- he didnt understand humans. He understands why he protects them Yes,but the intricacies of the human condition absolutely baffle Him.

--Tis late-- he says under his breath to not startle the girl-- what are you doing awake,human?

His companion pulls her knees to her chest, resting her hands on her lap.-- nightmare.

Light from the moon filters through the massive leaves of the tree,its a mesmerizing sight to behold. Theres Beauty in this destroyed world, a glimmer of hope for the humans.

After a moment of contemplation,war asks-- perhaps you'd like a listening ear? --She shook her head and a harsh wind blows, she shivers and her body shakes-- come closer, lest you freeze to death.

Reluctantly,the girl shuffles closer,enough that his radiating body heat subsides the effects of tbe chilly air on her skin.

--Theyre very vivid-My nightmares I mean-- she murmurs-- I dont want to talk about what it was about- I just want to go back to sleep but I cant shake off that lingering fear- do you guys even get nightmares?

Usually,he'd avoid being seen as weak or vulnerable. But the human was really shaken up and he didnt know what to say-- sometimes, yes.

--I didnt know that- WOW. We're similar in more ways than I thought-- she says absentmindedly, rubbing her palm with her thumb.

Well,that takes him off guard-- similar? Nephilim and human?

The girl shrugged-- well- you can develop bonds with people, your siblings I mean and the makers, too! Thats something important for us humans--she explains-- you can feel things like a sense of duty, or Curiosity. You can create things! Ive seen strife grab pieces of the maker tree and turn them into rustic toys for the kids! We also make stuff!

--Seems you have a point, little one-- he agrees, hes never seen it from that perspective. Now its glaringly obvious to him- how didnt he see it earlier?.

--You guys have a sense of humor too! I mean strifes the best example but ive seen you and fury laugh a little. You guys have troubles and worries like we do- i mean I could Keep going

Without noticing, the human had leaned on the rider for more warmth. Not that War minded,he didnt even feel her weight.

--As interesting as your ideas are human- I rather you save your strength--he states-- perhaps soon sleep Will find you-- then he makes a pause,trying to think the best words-- youre free to stay until you feel better

Yawning,the girl nodds and rubs her eyes-- cool--she wiggles a bit to find a comfortable space to lay on and she folds her arms over her chest. Her eyes feel heavy with sleep-- awesome- yknow? You guys are really good people- I mean yeah you hide behind snarky sarcastic comments but you care about us- so thank you.

He chuckles-- theres a lot you humans dont know about us.

--Yeah but we can tell when someone is good-- she added,a few words slurred-- and you guys are really good

Before he can say anything else,the girl falls asleep quietly. Body relaxing and leaning her whole dead weight on him,he barely even noticed it. But his gauntlet does lay its hand on the human to Keep tjem warm.

--Rest human,ill Keep you safe-- he murmurs before thinking "including from nightmares"

When strife comes by to switch with his youngest brother, War carries the human to a spare bed, not sure where her room was. He makes sure the covers are well laid on her and he takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Humans always looked so heavenly when they rested.

He decides he could get some rest of his own,so the red rider goes to find a quiet,dark corner of the tree to sit on and rest for a few hours. In his mind linger the words of the girl,War wonders just how much humans and nephilim were similar to eachother.

Humans,they really are an interesting thing.

[locamotivednp]

would love to hear ur hot take on the customer service blog

okay anon, when i tell you i typed up 1.5k words on this and hadn't even reached my thesis. but it was Too Much.

i really do think its best to let sleeping dog lie. I think most people agree that the blog was a big mistake on dans part. both because his responses were... bad. but also because it fueled the parasocialness of the audience in a bad direction. i think a lot of the fear and guilt that we still see in the phandom now is in reaction to that time. and frankly, dan is lucky it didnt blow up in his face like it would have if this was happening in 2015.

What is interesting is that lot of this was going on before audience-creator norms had been established on a wider level. 2012 was really early in social media star history; they were some of the first. and my god were they dealing with a terrible situation. that is really clear in hindsight.

as a 16 year old just discovering my queerness in 2012, the blog did leave a bad taste in my mouth at the time. and i dont think i was alone in that. but i do understand now why dan acted that way. i think he indirectly, for people in the know, apologized for the situation in BIG and i don't think he needs to do any more than that. we are in such a better place now. it is kinda incredible to behold