#i wish there was like. a singular Best Moment but there's too many

[blackstarising]

does ego nwodim know that the way she said "cook my meat 😤" with so much conviction has changed the trajectory of my entire life. babygirl. what have you done

[cherry-jamm]

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

・❥・ You had no clue he was alive, but he didn’t know that

・❥・word count: 2k

・❥・warnings: mentions of death, mentions of past sexual abuse, ANGST, LOOSELY based off one scene from tsitp, my own hc of pre-vamp Astarion

・❥・ Has anyone else seen that one tsitp edit to Sign of the Times? No? Also it occurred to me that now 2/3 fics I’ve posted on this platform are about vampires, lord I fear I have a type, also also, let’s just pretend Astarion can remember his life pre-vamp, just pretend for me thank yewwwww

You adored your best friend more than words could describe. Anyone could tell how you admired him, just from how you looked at him. Astarion had always been very handsome, you struggled to look away from his gorgeously tanned skin, and his platinum curls. Your eyes caught on the strong curve of his nose and the way the sun highlighted his brown eyes. But he was more than just his appearance. He was clever and too charming for his own good.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Astarion would ask, his voice tinged with a teasing playfulness.

“Like what?”

“Like that.” ‘Like you’re in love with me’ is what he failed to say, but the message rang clear. The air thickened. You shrugged, eyes never breaking from his. He smiled and shook his head, the slightest bit of pink forming on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. For all that you adored him, Astarion would worship you.

Then one day, you stopped seeing Astarion. He didn’t show up to the cafe you two had planned on meeting at, perhaps he had fallen ill. He stopped showing up to work, a spontaneous vacation he had forgotten to tell you of in advance, possibly. He wasn’t home, everything had been just as it was left no longer than a week ago. A thin layer of dust covered the house, completely undisturbed. Another week had passed before you got closure.

“This is (y/n) (l/n)?” A large man asked. He had knocked at your door late at night, a heavy hood over his eyes. You hesitantly nodded in confirmation. “You were close with Astarion Ancunin correct?” He asked.

“Correct.” You replied slowly, your curiosity peaked, along with your worry, anything could have happened to your best friend, he could be anywhere.

“I’m here on behalf of Cazador Szarr, to inform you of Astarion’s passing.” He nodded coolly as if he hadn’t just delivered the worst news one could deliver.

“How?” Your voice was quieter than you wished it to be.

“He was murdered on Cazador’s estate. We’ve been unable to determine who killed him, but we are working diligently to bring him to justice.” The hooded man assured. Tears welled in your eyes, your throat closed in on itself. You nodded quickly and closed the door once the man had left.

You never saw Astarion’s body. It was a morbid thought, sure. To wish to see the mutilated corpse of your best friend was a sentiment not shared by many. You assumed his body had already been handed off, most likely to his parents. Oh Gods, you wonder if his mother has seen the cold mangled body of her young son. You’d have to check on her eventually. You wonder if he was handled with care. Did the hooded man carry Astarion in his arms to pass him onto his father? Or was he perhaps shipped in a cramped box, tossed on their doorstep with no regard to the remains of the young boy, who had so much life ahead of him?

You lost track of how long you mourned. You would never see him again. You’d never hear his voice, look into his beautiful brown eyes. You missed him so bad it would keep you up at night, your head hurt from staying awake so long, yet your chest hurt from the idea of falling asleep and having a singular moment of not thinking of him.

After a while, you finally started to allow yourself to rest. After that, you began letting yourself enjoy things. You started getting invited to large parties hosted by Cazador, as some effort to apologize for the tragedy that had befallen your closest friend on his property. A cold case as it had been declared after almost a month. You attended a few, you couldn’t help but be made uncomfortable by the atmosphere, the guests seemed off, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched every time you set foot near Cazador’s palace, for no particular reason. Perhaps it was Astarion’s ghost keeping watch over you.

It had been your first time leaving Baldur’s Gate in years. Except for a short trip to your and Astarion’s parents you had taken a few weeks after his death, you hadn’t left in the many years since his untimely demise. You still remember that trip vividly, the smell of the countryside, and how everyone seemed to walk on eggshells to avoid speaking of the no-longer-present boy.

You weren’t doing anything particularly important on this trip, simply looking around at whatever there was to find. You had found your way to a busy market, scents of fresh bread and lavender and bright silky fabrics overwhelmed your senses when one thing caught your attention. A head of platinum curls. The head turned towards you and you swear you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

It was him, Astarion, undoubtedly. He’s changed, barely recognizable if you hadn’t known him like the back of your hand. You felt like you would be sick, seeing the dead boy clearly not dead. His once sun-kissed skin was now a ghastly shade of white. Cinnamon brown eyes now ran a shade of red, dark as blood. It was jarring, seeing the boy you once loved so suddenly in such a vastly different state. Yet, his nose remained the same, as did his high cheekbones, his hair hadn’t changed one bit, except perhaps it was a bit messier now.

“Astarion!” You yelled before you could stop yourself. Your feet carried you to him as if it was second nature to be as close to him as possible. “Astarion!” His head turned towards you, his ruby red eyes giving you a once over before widening in surprise. You saw him take a step back, like a scared dog. You stopped running, only a few steps away from him. “How? How are you here right now?”

“I’m sorry who are you?” He asks. His eyes tell exactly what his mouth won’t, the same way they always have. He knows exactly who you are.

“Don’t play dumb.” You start, he flinches away. “You know who I am.” A few people look over at him, friends you presume. You inspect each of them, what a team he’s gathered. One of the few, a rather tall tiefling walks up to you with her fists clenched. As she approached it was like heat radiated off of her. She was about to open her mouth when a man who seemed rather keen on minding his own business stopped her. She continued glaring. “We need to talk.” You hissed to the man in front of you.

“Whatever it is that you want, I can’t provide.” His voice shook ever so slightly. Anger rose in you, he had left for 200 years and been presumed dead only to reappear and act as if he was scared of you.

“Astarion.” You said, warning in your tone. Silence hangs in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. “We need to talk.” You repeated. “Alone.” You could only imagine how you looked to his friends at the moment, a strange person running towards Astarion and insisting on privacy for a conversation. You hardly cared at the moment, too lost in inspecting every curve and line of your best friend’s face. After a second he looked towards the group and nodded them away wordlessly, he held the gaze of the tiefling a second longer.

“Well, guide the way.” He said in a faux confident manner. You huffed and turned on your heel. You lead him away from the bustle of the market, somewhere you two were ensured privacy. You found yourself near a murky pond, shaded by trees, and inhabited by large bullfrogs. Just as it became most important for you to speak, you felt your throat close up. Your mouth ran dry as you looked at him.

“I thought you were dead.” Your voice held a mixture of anger and hurt. You felt tears sting your eyes and you tried to blink them away.

“You’ve done quite enough, you don’t need to lie to me now.” He said. His eyes were wider now, his lips were pressed in a thin line. In stark contrast to the confident way he had held himself around his companions.

“I- what?” You asked breathlessly.

“I said you shouldn’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

“You have some nerve.” Astarion started. He pointed an accusatory finger at you, his face now flushed red. “Coming after me after Gods know how long, only to pretend you didn’t see me at my worst? When I was nothing more than Cazador’s spawn. You disregarded me then, why do you think you have the right to crawl back to me now.”

You felt hot tears dare to fall out of your eyes at his seemingly unwarranted anger. He looked at you like you were nothing but a monster. “Cazador’s spawn?” You repeated quietly. “You mean you- you’re-” You sputtered. You felt like the air had been punched from your chest.

“A vampire?” He scoffed. “You really should stop acting clueless, it’s hard to watch.”

“I am clueless.” You shot back immediately. “I had no idea, I-I thought you were dead. I heard the news that you had been murdered.” Tears fell down your cheeks and dripped down your chin before you could stop them. You sucked in a harsh breath. “If I had known you were alive I would’ve fought for you.” Your hands reached out to his chest, you didn’t know if you were trying to push him away or bring him closer.

“What?”

“Fought for you! I would’ve fought for you, through everything. I would’ve been there for you!” You sobbed.

“I thought you knew!” His hands found yours on his chest. His skin was ice cold and you almost hissed from the temperature change. “Cazador had told me you knew."

"You think I would've just abandoned you?" You cried, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt.

"You were at the parties!"

"And I had no idea you were there!" You insisted. Your salty tears clung to your lashes, and your throat hurt from yelling. "You should've told me!"

"How? How would I have told you?" His crimson eyes bore into yours.

"I don't know! I just wish I could've been there for you! I would've helped you, no matter what." Your voice broke off as you cried. Astarion didn't cry, he barely made an expression as he looked at you. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, your voice quivering. “I’m so sorry.” He still didn’t make much of an expression.

“You should go.” He said after a beat of silence.

“W-what?”

“I said you should go, anywhere but here.”

“I’m not leaving you again, Astarion.”

“Well I don’t want you here.” He insisted.

“Why not?” Your voice raised.

“Because if you stay any longer I think I’ll fall back in love with you.” His voice was quiet and collected. Your voice died in your throat.

“Fall back in love?” You murmured, as if speaking it too loudly would make it untrue. “You were in love with me?”

He ran his hand through his hair and looked away from you. He took a step back. “Yes.” He hesitated. “I was. Which made it all the more heartbreaking when Cazador,” he spit the name with enough venom to burn right through you. “told me that he had told you about my… transformation, offered me to you as a warm, or cold, body, and you declined. He said you simply didn’t wish to see me anymore, that you were glad to never speak to me again.” He inhaled a shaky breath. “Which is a?”

“Lie.” You finished for him. “I was told that you had died. Cazador had one of his men tell me you had been murdered. I was too lost in grief to question any further. Clearly I should have.” You laughed humorlessly. “I mourned you. Everyday. For years.”

“You did?”

“I did.” You sighed. “And I did it because I loved you. With everything I had.” Awkward stillness came once again. “Can I kiss you-” You were cut off by feeling Astarion’s cold hands grab your cheeks softly and pull you into a short, tender kiss.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He laughed airily.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For not being there.” He took a deep breath.

“Well… you’re here now.”

“And I don’t plan on leaving.” You finished

[arcane-abomination]

This is a post a long time in the making. Typically when I read about experiences with plants and death magick its done from a perspective of plants being treated more like any other tool. Inanimate objects more or less. As a practitioner of druidism, animism, and shamanism within my chaote label, this kind of disheartens me to a large degree. As I’m in belief that everything has a soul, there’s nothing more unique than a plant soul within death witchcraft.

A Plant’s Death

The trickiest question to answer here is when exactly is the moment of death for a plant. Because they don’t have vital organs the way animals do, it can be difficult to ascertain such a moment. Is the plant dead as soon as is picked? Is its death reflected as it wilts? We can’t completely be sure. For this reason, it’s probably safe to say, that many don’t use a plant’s spirit in death magick that often for this reason.

In truth, a plant’s time of death can’t be interpreted the same way an animals can. Their makeup is far too different. That’s where the problem lies. We struggle to interpret something by rules we set forth not understanding that, that which we seek to understand is, by nature, outside of those rules. Thus, we have to look outside the box we’ve placed around ourselves.

The truth is that a plants death isn’t as simple as the moment the soul leaves the body. It’s quite possible their death has much more nuance than we think. Where the exact moment of death for us can be measured in a second, it’s quite possible that a plant’s can not. Making their death something far longer and more advanced than ours.

What is a Plant’s Soul

Another interesting thing to consider is how a plant’s soul works, but therein lies another problematic nuance. What is the plant in comparison to a singular body? Is each individual flower its own being? Or are they one being since everything is contacted at the root? In my personal experience I would answer that it’s a mixture of both.

One can almost compare things to that of the triple goddess or the idea of epithets. One singular being exists but from that being several other beings take form. They often are comprised of more specific energies that coincide with the master soul. But appear to have their own unified personalities and makeup. This is how, in my opinion, some plant’s work. A tree for instance has one soul and one soul only. But some flowers may have multiple. One singular soul dwelling within the roots but as singular stems sprout from the roots connected as one only beneath the surface, may give form to epithetic souls in connection to the master soul. That’s why sometimes each flower can feel like it has its own unique energy in comparison to the others in its colony.

The Astral Form

When working with plant souls it is important to recognize that they don’t communicate naturally the same way as we do. That’s why connecting in astral can be so important. Spirits in astral can form themselves as they see fit and plants often take on alternate forms that the person can connect with and understand better. Therefore, it’s best to be aware that the spirit you may see when connecting to a plant in death work, may not appear at all plant like. If unsure…simply ask.

Death Energy of Plants

The death energy of a plant spirit can often have a different vibration to it, but it can work very similarly to regular spirits. Just as we may use a bone to attract that animals spirit or go to a grave to call on a human’s spirit, so do we use the plants body to call on them. Their dried flowers, and leaves act in place of bones. While their seeds act like the souls of children. Young souls, that can be rather mischievous. And just as you treat those bones and grave sites with respect, so should you treat those plants with respect. They may not be bone but they are just as important as them. Disrespectful use of a plant’s corpse that you wish to utilize can result in a disconnect, and essentially an empty vessel.

In Conclusion

It’s important to recognize that plant spirits are a very unique factor to utilize in your death craft journey, but they can be very splendid spirits too well worth. They can offer different tales on a situation and inspires you may not have thought possible or even considered. Remember, they are very different from us and will often have perspectives from angles we can’t properly see.

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

Unthinkable (how hard it is to call someone?)

Robert Kennedy x Ava Worthing (OC)

Synopsis: A phone number, from a girl he likes, but Bobby can't make the call. However, fate has a way of bringing people together, like at a wedding.

Trigger Warnings: obsessive thoughts and/or overthinking, otherwise none as far as I know

Word count: 1,279

Notes: here it is, the second part, enjoy!

Winter, 1958 - Spring, 1959 

After that night in November, a thank you-card did turn up at Bobby’s apartment in Georgetown. With a telephone number. But he was hesitant. What was she aiming for with the number? Did she...was she... 

A million thoughts rolled around in Bobby’s head, even when he was in Teamster hearings, having back-and-forth's with Sam Giancana, Jimmy Hoffa or David Beck.  

Afterhours, he questioned the meaning of those 10 digits. 8913588122. Written in a sleek and refined cursive, that the pad of his pointer finger had traced over too many times.  

So, he didn’t call. For months. He told himself it was because he needed to focus on the Senate investigations and planning for Jack’s campaign in ‘60. That he didn’t have time to explore what it would be like to talk to someone with who it was easy. It had been easy with Ethel...but she wasn’t Ethel. Ava was blonde, shorter than him, but the similarities ended quite quickly. She was twelve years younger than him, still in college, and the sister of his friend. There were too many variables. His parents' approval, her growing bored of him. Not including the fact, he felt he didn’t deserve it (a possible relationship with a woman? He wasn’t quite sure what ‘it’ was, either), or that he was scared out of his mind. He was detail-oriented, and he had the capacity to overthink. 

How could one singular interaction (and a hand-written thank-you card) throw his whole world off balance? Bobby had no idea. But he knew he was going to see her again, call or no call. Alec was getting married in June and undoubtably Ava would be present at her brother’s wedding. Would she even remember their conversation in that staff kitchen, had she thought about him, had she waited for him to call her? The slightly obsessive nature of his thoughts annoyed him. 

-- 

June 8th, 1959, Newport, RI. 

Under a large white tent in the back garden of the Worthing summer home in Newport, was where the wedding reception for Alec Worthing and the new Mrs. Alec Worthing (former-Vogue model, Lydia Kay). Bobby was one of Alec’s ushers. But after giving his best wishes to the very happy (and slightly frisky couple), Bobby’s pale blue eyes searched for another carrying the Worthing last name. First name beginning with the first letter of the alphabet. Ava. Ava, Ava, Ava...every time he repeated her name in his head it sounded fresh. Like the air after a rainstorm or newly mowed grass. Ava. A palindrome.  

He saw her, talking with some girls her age, fellow bridesmaids he guessed, by the way they were dressed. Her bridesmaid dress was a deep emerald green, with a full skirt and an off- the shoulder neckline. The slight bareness of her shoulders extenuated the curve of her neck. And her face, looking better in the sunlight than under artificial staff kitchen lights. Her hair was curved at the ends, shining like gold. Bobby swallowed as he tried to tear his eyes from her. 

Then they’re eyes met. For a single moment he saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes. Bobby couldn’t stand it, his eyes falling to the floor. He didn’t know how long he stared at a single blade of green grass. 

Her voice made him jump. “You didn’t call.” 

“I...I...um...” He stuttered, still not meeting her gaze. How could he stare down Jimmy Hoffa, but not a girl who he hadn’t called. He was a grown man, for God’s sake. 

“I thought I was being quite plain. And Alec told me that you liked people being direct with you.” 

Bobby’s Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he slowly met her grey eyes. His throat felt dry. 

Ava was still talking. “...maybe I just misread our interaction. My hand was hurting quite bit, but I thought you liked talking with me. Though maybe you just were pitying me.” 

Bobby found his voice again. “I... I do. Like you.” Damn, why was he reduced to a nervous schoolboy with her confronting words. He was 33 years old, a counsel for a Senate committee who spent his days in hearings with men more dangerous than this college graduate. And yet, he did feel guilty. “And I wasn’t pitying you. I genuinely enjoyed talking with you.”  

“So, what was stopping you from calling me these past seven months?” 

“I...” He didn’t want to answer. The truth would make him look pathetic and weak-willed. And a Kennedy was never either of those.  

“I know you’ve got the Teamster hearings, but you don’t have even the guts for one phone call to tell me you’re not interested? To tell me not to bother, that I was either too young or too forward. Rejection would have been easier than complete radio silence.” She sighed, running a quick hand through the ends of her hair, slightly mussing her hair up. “That’s all I wanted to say to you. Now that I’ve got it off my chest you can enjoy the party, and I won’t wait around for any sub-par explanations from you.”  

Turning on her heel to return to her friends, Bobby said. “I was scared.” His voice was small and meek, and Ava almost couldn’t hear it in the buzz of the reception. “The last time I liked a woman, she left me.”  

Ava froze. “Oh...” 

“Yes, so, um, I was stupidly scared that it would happen again, and I was foolish enough to think so after one conversation that history would repeat itself and I didn’t want to risk making a complete laughingstock of myself. So, I-” He spoke at a rapid and almost desperate pace, as if worried his time would run out to say what he meant. 

“So, you didn’t call.” She finished for him.  

“I didn’t call.” He nodded. “And I’ve regretted it, because I can’t get you out of my head. Or your number.” He chuckled sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I memorized it actually.” 

“For the phone call you weren’t going to make?” She said, a small...something pulling on her lips. 

He nodded, noticing her growing amused expression, mirroring it. “Yeah. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” 

“No, but I’m not blameless. I should’ve made a more direct move-” 

“No, no, this is not your fault. You made a very *direct* move, and I was just...an idiot.” He looked down at the ground and then back up at her face. “Can you forgive me for that?” 

She waved him off. “Nothing to forgive, you told me your side of things and I understand better now.” She turned her head as she heard her sister-in-law call for her. “I should go, the bride’s demands must be met.” 

A look of disappointment faintly crossed his expression, showing best in his eyes with a silent “Must you?” passing to her.  

“Save me a dance?” She asked.  

“I’m not much of a dancer.” 

“Doesn’t matter. No one here is. Except maybe my parents or Lydia...” She shook her head. “I’m rambling, anyway, if you don’t want to-” 

“No, I do. I just don’t want to step on your toes.” 

“Don’t worry about that. Now, I’ll see you on the dance floor.” She said and went to help her new sister-in-law with whatever she needed. 

Bobby was struck in his spot, running over what just happened. She wasn’t mad at him, and he was going to dance with her later. How quickly the conversation had turned. 

Later...a picture of Bobby and Ava was taken while they danced inside the large white tent. The first picture of them together, but not the last. 

---

The full part is now up, hope it was worth the wait. Now, I've got to start plotting my Jackie fic, and I'll do a poll on a jfk fic that's been on my mind for the past few days.

Taglist: @jackiesgirl, @theverystrangegirl27, @fortheloveofjos, @kennediva, @stargiirl27, @melancholicstation , @bleatngheart , @rocker-chick-7 , @kimcrystal123

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[psicheanima]

what are your thoughts on danganronpa v3? i remember liking it a lot when i was young but nowadays im seeing a lot of hate towards it and im thinking of revisiting it now that i have a better grasp on the kind of stories i like but idk if its worth it lol

How funny, I’m having the kind of opposite experience. When I first played the series when I was about 14-15, I was incredibly critical of V3, especially the character department. I still think it has the most annoying cast (THH probably has the “worst” one, but that’s because a majority of them are boring rather than gimmicky like V3) but upon revisiting it recently, I’ve actually grown fond of a lot of the characters I didn’t like.

Kaito, for instance. I really appreciate his role of “obnoxious” more. His dynamic with Kokichi became one of my favorite things to think about, when previously it was something I acknowledged as important to the game but didn’t really engage with deeply. I actually looked forward to seeing them interact while previously I had just enjoyed it to see Kaito get “put in his place” (and mind you, I didn’t really care for Kokichi either back then, that’s just how much I disliked Kaito.) those dudes are great foils to the other. It’s fascinating to see a “sidekick” (ironic) and “antagonist” be the antithesis to one another rather than the protag and antagonist like previous games. Saihara and Kokichi are opposites in many ways, but Kaito and Kokichi are fundemntal opposites down to the core, and it’s a great position to place the player in— the incorrect best friend who saved you or the correct bad guy who you think wants to doom you all. Yeah, great stuff. Kokichi’s great. I had started to like him more even before this new playthrough, but he’s just great. It’s rare I fall for a character’s mask, but even when acknowledging said mask, I didn’t really take in just how completely Kokichi lies about every singular thing until this one. He’s a sad person. We never actually knew him, not even for one second, face to face.

I also dislike Himiko way way way less, her arc really put her in a new light and made me wonder why I hadn’t cared for her after trial 3 when I first played. Oh, and on that note, some of the mysteries are pretty bad upon reexamination. Korekiyo is easily the worst trial in the series, yes worse than the starter trial in THH. Like, Jesus. It’s so bad. But the class trial back and forth is always pretty fresh. Like I said— looking at dynamics I hadn’t previously. I did always think trial 4 was one of the best in the series, still think it is. It’s difficult.

It has my least favorite “ending trio” (Kiibo was top 3 favorite characters and he didn’t have much competition, I’ll always be mad at this death, I don’t care!)— but man, I’ll always love Tsumugi! That ambitious ending still does leave a slight sour taste in my mouth, but even back then I did understand the purpose, though I was more bitter about it.. As I age, the comedy becomes more pronounced so j can’t take it too seriously. Good luck getting a job with no ID and fake trauma. So funny. So so funny. Tsumugi was hysterical for that— she’s just such a kooky, meta villain. Love her dearly. Wish she got some more moments to set her apart pre trial “6”– yes, yes, that’s the point, plain plain plain blah blah blah, still. Still!

So upon re-examining, there’s more good, but the bad is still there. It’s an ambitious game for “Danganronpa”. So that means it misses and sometimes it hits. Oh, probably has the best dialogue in the series— but also the worst translation that absolutely unforgivably massacres some characters! There can be no balance in this world! How tragic! I think it’s always worth revisiting a series.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

One Six Zero

Jonah knew what he'd chosen to do.

He also knew he hadn't been chosen.

Spoilers to MAG 160. It's my 160th fic, after all.

AO3

---------------------

2018, 18th October

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. 

For a moment, it is my voice, coming from his lips.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen. 

Of course, like all the good advice I’ve given him over the years, he doesn’t listen.

Jon. Jon, Jon, Jon… why do you resist?

You were born for this.

Born for it, even more than I—I chose my god, and though I have teased you about making your own choices, I know the difference. I chose. You were chosen. 

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. 

My name on his lips… my true, real name. Ah!

Ah.

I grip the arms of my seat, here in the Panopticon, in this dessicated but indwelt temple. Jon. You could have been here with me, were you more wise; I, of course, will still receive the Watcher’s Crown, but that is beside the point.

It will be so much harder for you out there, in the world that we have made.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world? 

I didn’t lie. No. Not here, not in my moment of triumph. Yet hearing these words— for immortality and power, to ensure your own happiness —sobers me a bit. Yes, yes, I shall be king of a ruined world, and yes, yes, I shall never die, and those are key.

But those aren’t truly the reason, are they?

Deep down, Jon, Jon, I know you understand me. I know you feel my rage, though you do not know it is mine for it echoes yours too well. Why does a man seek to destroy the world, Jon?

Because it hates him, and so he must hate it back.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them. 

The truth comes out there, I suppose. I beat them because they deserved it. Because they hated me; because many still would, if they knew the body I’d taken, knew this sex was not mine by birth, as if any of them have the right to judge me. Ignorant, infantile, puerile little creatures, slithering through their days with puny fears and cheap desires, never knowing the true glory of being seen, never understanding how good it is to know.

To know everything. Every thought, every emotion. Every hidden little secret, tucked away in the nooks and crannies of the wretched human spirit.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own. 

How he wonders! I see him through borrowed eyes, listen to his voice—to your voice, Jon, a voice I have always liked—and again, I wish you could have been here at the end of it all.

Such a fool. A delightful, easily-led fool.

I know you were confused. My dear Jon, so neurodivergent —a term relatively new, but meaning the same thing as changeling, really. You felt things when you talked to me. You felt our singularity—and yes, I use that word correctly—for we are that point at which change becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, affecting all of civilization. 

You felt it when we spoke, away from Daisy or Basira or Tim. Felt that small and quiet place where only you and I stood, and only you and I shared experience, you and I traded feelings. Where only you and I speak this particular language. Not everyone can be a true cleric for the Eye; it is a dumb master, but both keen and gloriously cruel.

And it chose you. It chose you, over me.

For this… that’s all right. I don’t have to be marked by them all. You do.

The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race. 

I didn’t have to be terrorized by everybody. I didn’t have to be seen by every firebug and fortuneteller. But you did, didn’t you? It will be worth it. I will receive my crown, and see all; you will be… the conduit, and everyone will see you in their dreams.

Jon. Jon. Jon. If you had been here, you could have watched, too, with me.

You are a living chronicle of terror. 

I have no pity left to give you. The world stripped mine before menarche.

I watch you in my place of power. Watch you trembling, shaking; sweating heavily, rocking back and forth as if to physically hurl yourself away from the statement in your hands, but your face, Jon… your face! Eyes dilated and unblinking, lips pulled back as if in lust, dark cheeks flushed, hair (still too long for office-work, but I never gave you trouble over it) sticking to your forehead.

Jon. You are beautiful. In the way a strange, mutated frog is beautiful: unique, precious, and meant to be dissected.

I would have done, if you’d been with me here. You would have loved it here. Exposed, revealed to the Eye in ways you could never yet dream.

Oh, well. You preferred good cows.

For all your glory… your beauty, your foolish weirdness, your stubborn loveliness… you’ve made your choice, and so have I.

(And so has the Eye, but we will not think about that now.)

But it left me a gift: for sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to. 

Martin is coming. I see him, Jon; he’s smiling at the sky, and he’s taking pictures of cows on his phone for you. He loves you, you know. With all your flaws.

I comprehend him because I’ve observed him, but I don’t really understand. If you were mine, I’d burn those flaws away. But no, not him, not bumbling deceitful Martin, who smiles his way into your heart and has every intention of putting up with all your—

You are prepared. 

It’s time!

You are ready. 

Yes! Yes! My heart leaps! My own eyes fill, and tingles of raw adrenaline race through my every limb!

You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. 

I laugh (or sob), with no one to witness, the echoes dying with only the Eye to see.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made. 

Yes! Jon, it’s time! It’s time! Don’t you see? This will be so beautiful!

Now. Repeat after me. 

I raise my face to the darkness of my tower, my seat rising, the tower shaking, the Panopticon wrenching through the soil of central London like a phallus through virgin flesh, and the irony of this tears more laughter from me even as I expand, change, stretch, rise into the air, and it all

Come to us in your wholeness. 

floods

Come to us in your perfection. 

tears

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes 

not the crown, I

and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns 

Jon, it’s not the Crown, it

and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies! 

I am become the Pupil of the Eye and I am lost.

Come to us. I… OPEN… THE DOOR! 

And I think

(Barely, my thoughts rise as I rise with my tower and together we pierce the world) 

I think

this

Crown was

(Jon is screaming, and he does not see how beautiful he is with the crown atop his head) 

meant for…

(Jon) 

for you.

Jon!

The world changes, rips, spills its guts into the water of reality and muddies it, impossible to ever be made clean again. I rise. I see. All.

Bliss. Floating. Smearing. All things, every heart, every fear. All of it, too much.

Jon… you should have…

(he is still still screaming) 

Come to me. You still can.

(chosen he was chosen this was meant for him)

I wish you could come to me. We are meant to torment one another for all time. We—

(the crown magnificent and terrible and shining with the light of his new eyes) 

You will come to me.

Look at the sky, Martin. Look at the sky. It’s looking back. 

I am looking back. Jon. I wait for you in the heart of the new world we have made. I wait.

Together, we will see it all.

[dameronology]

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 3/5

spring '86

i almost had you and i almost wish you would've loved me too - almost, bowling for soup (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

You didn’t come back to Hawkins until Spring. 

It was nothing to do with Steve. Actually, nothing had changed with him. Aside from looking at him and realising that he was single-handedly responsible for the best night of your life, he was still Steve to you. Steve, who you had shaken hands with and agreed that neither of you would ever mention the hook up. Steve, who had insisted you both have a mature conversation about your fight. Steve, who had continued to drive to the city every other fucking weekend since then so you could spend time together as best friends. Just best friends. Nothing else. Even though you shared ice cream at Coney Island and stalked through Battery City at six in the fucking morning to admire the views. You shared a bed and many demons but here you were. Best friends. 

Spring Break came around quicker than you expected. You’d been eager to spend more than a singular weekend at home and actually catch up with your old friends; coffee with Nancy and record shopping with Eddie were all on the agenda, but Steve had insisted on booking you up for most of the week you were home. In some way, hooking up had accidentally brought you closer. All signs of co-dependency that you would rather have ignored than face in couples therapy. Who had the money? 

That night had played on your mind over and over again, as had the other night that you and Steve almost-but-didn’t actually hook-up. That word, you’d found, had come up a lot in recent months: almost. You almost slept with him. You almost took Steve up on his offer of a relationship. You almost begged him to stay the morning after you fucked. So many almosts in the space of just a few months and it was starting to fry your brain. You’d gone fourteen years without ever thinking of Steve as anything more than a friend; fourteen years pitying whichever girl he was trying to woo that week. You’d never anticipated that you might one day be one of those girls. 

It didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would.

Your first day home, as promised to your parents, was spent at their house. It was unpacking and lunch and then catching up on what you’d done since Christmas - though you refrained from telling them who you had done -and then finally, around sun down, they released you from their grip to go and meet your friends at the lake. Steve, as promised, pulled up outside your house at 8:02PM. 

He met you half-way up the garden path, taking you in his embrace.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Hey, Steve,” you laughed. “I only saw you last week-”

“- in New York,” he cut you off, releasing you from his grip. He ran a hand over your hair with a grin. “Seeing you in Hawkins is…different.”

You frowned. “Different how?”

“Just different,” he shrugged. “C’mon, everyone’s already at the lake.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you huffed, following Steve to the car. “My mum was talking my ear off for like three hours about my Aunt Fiona’s operation.”

Steve smiled. “Don’t apologise. I visited her in hospital last week and she’s doing okay.”

“You visited my aunt in hospital?”

“Well…yeah,” he said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve known her basically my entire life.”

“It’s not that,” you replied. “It just looks really bad that I didn’t come from New York earlier to see her-”

“-it’s okay, you’re busy,” he shrugged. “Besides, I will always be Fiona’s favourite. The Golden Child.”

You chattered back and forth until you reached the lake. 

As promised, Nancy was already down there with the gang and, true to her nature, she’d brought everything you could possibly need. A tent, towels, stuff to make s’mores when the sun went down. Evening was slowly creeping in but it was still very warm out - maybe seventy or so degrees - and the water looked beautiful under the pink sunset. Save for a few other groups dotted about the shores, the lake was pretty quiet. That meant that the group had spread out a little. 

Still, that didn’t stop them all piling in your direction as soon as they saw you get out of Steve’s car. Nancy first, and then Robin, and then finally Eddie Munson wrapped his wily arms around you and dragged you over to where they were sat. There was no pointing in screaming and kicking - he was freakishly strong after all - because that would only encourage him even more to dump you straight in the lake. So, you were grateful when he dropped you on the ground and handed you a beer from his cooler. 

“Beers are on me, ladies,” he grinned proudly. “Stole ‘em from my uncle.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Robin muttered. 

“So,” Nancy rolled her eyes at them, pulling the attention to you. “How’s New York? How’s college?”

“It’s amazing!” you grinned. “The city is amazing and college is amazing and…it’s amazing.”

Steve leant over to you, voice lowered. “Say amazing one more time and we might believe you.” 

“I wanna go to a proper one next year when I’m done with this community college bullshit,” Eddie chimed in. “I hear the hook-up culture is amazing at the inner-city ones. Better than it is here, I hope.”

“I mean…yeah, it’s good,” you shrugged. “Depends where you go, though.”

“There must be so many guys in New York,” Nancy said. “Found any nice suitors yet?”

No, the one I like is in Hawkins. 

You glanced over at Steve, but shook your head. “There’s been some here and there but…all that’s boring. Let’s go in the lake before it gets dark!”

With that you, you cleared your throat and stood up. Tossing aside your t-shirt, you kicked off your shoes and ran into the water before anyone could ask any further questions.

The lake was cold, despite the warm air, and you quickly regretted throwing yourself in so quickly. Even though the ice cold water wasn’t any less painful than the conversation you were having back on the shore, you sort of preferred the suffering when it was just a metaphorical sense. Still, you forced yourself to swim further out in an attempt to get away and to warm-up. Two birds, one stone and all that. The lake wasn’t massive but still, you only got half way out before your arms began to ache.

Grabbing onto a buoy, you pulled yourself up to catchy our breath. You’d never been the strongest swimmer but you could have been an Olympian when it came to running away from conversations you didn’t want to have. Only for a little while, though, because Steve - who was an annoyingly quick swimmer - was already on his way over. The other three, it seemed, were stood on a bridge arguing over who was going to go in first. Nancy pushing Eddie in was the last thing you made out before your best friend arrived on the scene. 

“They get too much for you already?”

You smiled a little bit, shaking your head. “No, they just ask a lot of questions.”

“And you ran away because…?”

“I-” you began, but then stopped. “No reason, Steven. I just wanted to get in the water before it got too cold.”

“Y’know I hate when you call me Steven,” he muttered. “That’s not even my legal name-”

“- yeah, but it’s funny when you get mad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. 

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” Steve asked. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Your constant changing on the subject, the fact you near enough drowned yourself when Nancy raised the question of boys-”

“- I just wanna enjoy tonight,” you cut him off. “I appreciate you looking out for me but right now, let’s just have fun. Please?”

Steve nodded and gave you a little smile. “Of course - just as long as you promise to tell me what it is later?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“And you know I’ve always got you,” he kept one hand on the buoy, raising the other to give you a light punch on the shoulder. “Provided that this new thing of running into freezing cold water every time you’re inconvenienced doesn’t become a habit, m’kay?”

“Lakes are a very good way of avoiding certain subjects,” you teased. “And you still came in after me.”

“I said it in sixth grade when I saved you from the pool and I’ll say it again,” he said. “I will always come after you.”

That was a promise he had kept: Steve had never not come after you. After every bad date and bad day and bad anything, he’d always been there. He’d come after you on New Years Eve simply just because he missed you and tonight, he’d come after you the second you’d run away. He’d saved you in every way since you slipped and fell in the pool all those years ago. 

You took one hand off the buoy, gently placing it on Steve’s face. His eyes followed your movements, brown irises never leaving your form as you thumb softly stroked his cheek. Any other time, he would have slapped it away and called you cheesy, but right then, he didn’t move. In fact, he was stone cold still as you leant in towards him - not from the cold, and not from shock either. Wasn’t it sort of established that kissing was just a thing you did now?

Steve met you half way, face slowly inching towards yours. 

And then, as if by magic, you both suddenly pulled backwards just before your lips touched. 

“I have a girlfriend!”

“I’m dropping out of college!”

The revelations came at the same time and were met with equal looks of shock on both your faces. You reeled backwards, not bothering to avoid splashing Steve as you did. Eyes wide with surprise and what he thought might have been fury, you pulled yourself to the other side of the buoy to take a moment. Just a moment, even a singular second, to process what the fuck he had just said. 

Steve was in a similar situation; he’d never even considered the idea that you might ever move home so soon. After all the bullshit conversation about things changing and this is what I want, Steve, even the possibility had seemed so far fetched. He would have been overwhelmed with joy at your revelation had you not looked like you were about to stab him. 

“What the fuck?!” you demanded. “When you were going to tell me that?!”

“When were you going to tell me about you dropping out?!”

“I think we should talk about your thing first!” you said. “So I’ll ask again - when you were gonna tell me?” 

“I don’t know!” Steve exclaimed. “Tonight, probably? Maybe tomorrow? Honestly, it was just something I was going to slip into conversation-”

“- we talk every fucking day, Steve! Every day say hey, what’s new? and you NEVER thought to answer the question with I HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND?!”

“I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“You’re so stupid,” you muttered. “I’m not angry at you for having a girlfriend, I’m angry at you because you didn’t tell me, and also maybe a little angry that we almost just kissed and you didn’t stop me earlier!”

“I forgot?”

“How do you forget?”

Steve sighed. “Imagine the thing you want most in the world. And then imagine finding a thing that makes you almost as happy as the last thing. And then imagine that the first thing, the thing you want most in the world, is trying to kiss you and you temporarily forget about the other thing-”

“- I’m the thing you want most in the world?” you asked softly.

“In any form, yes,” he admitted. “I met this girl a few weeks ago at the arcade. She’s funny and sweet and…I really want to give it a chance, okay? I owe it to myself because I think, to some extent, I might still be recovering a little from your rejection. You are not easy to get over.”

You smiled, giving him a little nod. “So I’m too late to ask you to take a chance on us when I move back?”

“‘Fraid so,” he murmured. “I love being your best friend and I’m so glad that you’re mine, but like I said, getting over you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You’re on my mind 24/7 and after we hooked up, it only got worse and…honestly? I think I might just need to let myself be with someone else for a while. She’s good for me. The change is good.”

“Yeah,” you tried to swallow your pain, forcing a grimace. “Change can be good.”

“Can we talk about your thing now?” he asked. “Are you really dropping out?”

“Mm,” you nodded. “I haven’t been happy for a while. I tried to wait it out but I think I need to come home for a while.”

“And I’ll be here every step of the way, I promise,” Steve said. “C’mon, let’s head back to shore before it gets dark.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.”

Steve gave you one last smile before letting go of the buoy and swimming away. As soon as he was a few meters out, you released your grip too and let yourself slip underwater. Only for a second, just long enough to open your mouth and let out the world’s biggest yell  of frustration. On and on and on, until your lungs hurt from the presence of screaming and absence of breathing. Then, you re-submerged to the surface and took a deep breath. 

If only you’d been a few weeks earlier.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou @eddiemunsonloml

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ A Bird Song ⸸

The winds from the sea blew vastly different than those in Ishgard, even upon making landfall in Tural. A series of breezes in which one wished for a cool kiss to their flesh was met instead with a pyretic caress. It was no wonder that much of the areas within Tural were rumored to be arid and some even bursting with life. Green canopies hung overhead in the distance and the city of Tuliyollal was brimming with color, a vibrant welcome, and a diverse pop of cultures and races – like some of the free cities in Aldenard and Vylbrand though not quite at this magnitude that Vahalia had expected.

They had paid witness to the claims of the sea within the Shades’ Triangle and heard stories of the Grand Shallows during their voyage. They had cast their sights upon the large towering structures layered from the resplendent quarter and toward the Arterial Climb before even setting foot along the docks in Tuliyollal, the grand scape of the city’s jewel overlooking the depths and markets below. 

A city full of color, wonder, and life… such was kept to Vahalia’s back as she looked over the waters and reefs towards the collective of massive ships in the distance that only sought ruin had they dared to port. The accommodations were splendid, and while cozy it was a vastly different sight than she had been used to though not entirely out of her wheelhouse since she had made so many trips into Thavnair and Radz-at-han, Such a cacophony of hues had grown on her over the years but a long and contrasting stretch from her multitude of personal preferences.

There, in the distance which was malms and malms from the balcony of their collective cabins, her eyes never straying from The Red Queen, That singular ship she had been here for only second to Ophelia herself.

There was a subtle stirring in her, part excitement but also part annoyance that she had come all this way after setting away two ships to only find out that Ophelia had been holed up in Tural. The question was, where was she now?

Certainly, she wouldn’t have strayed too far from her possessions, for a woman seeking gold and glory, that would be too far outside the realm of expectancy. 

Cordelia had thoroughly anticipated the change in climate, though she certainly underestimated the jump in heat even from what most might consider normal temperatures. There had been little hesitation in changing into even further more appropriate attire for their new surroundings. It had taken some time for her to soften and become comfortable with her newly met niece and nephew during the journey but once that barrier had been crossed, she found herself seeing to them along with Vahalia occasionally and offering entertainment.

Their things were mostly settled, the twins having been resolute in fighting sleep were finally resting soundly when Cordelia found her way down to the docks in search of Vahalia. As her eyes found the other dark-haired woman, she paused to take a moment to admire her from afar, appreciating their likeness even with the background of sun and sea. “Have you garnered any leads on Ophelia’s whereabouts?” She inquired as she eventually came to stand at Vahalia’s side, gaze following the trajectory toward the ship afar. 

“Aside from her being in Tural? None. However…” Vahalia’s voice was sincere despite the coiling in her stomach that was only fuel by the desire to find Ophelia all the faster, “If her ship is in the harbor then it’s likely she hasn’t ventured too far. I have Cas wandering asking a few questions and seeing if she can pin-point more information about the ship or the crew.”

A look cut back to The Red Queen in the distance, “A ship like that doesn’t go unnoticed. We’re on the right path if she’s made it this far. The best place to catch her would be on land and off guard. For now…I’d hate to see the trip go to waste entirely, what time we cannot give chase due to lack of information, we could always consider other prospects here. Absorb the culture.” Vahalia smirked gracefully.

As the two stood overseeing the large ship offshore, a warm wind blew against them and somehow it held a coolness likely brought in from the sea. A single handheld the darkened lace parasol just above Cordelia’s height whilst idly spinning it. The woman surely stood out amongst the bright and vibrant colors of Tuliyollal yet that seemed to bother her little. “We should keep watch on The Queen, if she recognizes that you have also arrived, I presume there is the chance she may hoist anchor.”

Her lids pinched together slightly as she gazed upward to the sky with a slow and steady breath. “The twins are finally asleep and settled. Would give us a bit of time to pursue the city, perhaps enjoy the sights all the while keeping our ears open for any unsuspecting little birds.” 

“Bird watching in Tuliyollal, sounds like we have much to occupy ourselves with for the time being,” Vahalia affirmed as she turned to her kin. Not too far off she noticed the looming presence of Wren – Cordielia’s counterpart to the trip. A welcomed one all the more but it was pleasant to see sights of Cordelia that Vahalia had never seen before outside of the word of mouth or simply assuming.

The woman was just as coordinated and careful as she was. A depth of respect for her only grew beneath her bosom as she outstretched her hand for the crook of Cordelia’s arm. Little else mattered that Hakan had not responded to her missive, much was expected from the man as she knew he could handle himself, wherever his feet happened to take him for the time being. Her linkpearl remained dormant and not a single response from Osric since she had made note of her plans to set sail for Tural and take Idalia and Evran with her, likely a product of him possibly being cross with her. Here, however, she was among like minds and in good hands and conversely.

Vahalia turned to lead the pair along the docks and sands in the direction in favor of the colorful canopies and pops of jubilant voices that cluttered the market above.

Collab w/ @promethea-silk

Mention(s): @belgravexiv - @osric-giroux-ffxiv - @song-of-wren

[klm-zoflorr]

For the character ask game whose name I forgot… I am also requesting Jon if that’s alright. If not may I request Sasha?

Okayge sorry I'm answering Sasha first because ive got the brainworms right now. Thanks.

First impression: So the first appearance of Sasha we get is the Michael statement I think? Or the calliope bit. I don't really remember. Anyways I think i heard of her before in the fandom perhaps. I... Honestly don't remember what idea of her i got. Maybe that people missed her and wished she had more time lmao

Anyways, her first appearance rolled in and in addition to everything Jon said about her (that she was smart and competent) it struck me how much sheer main character energy i got out of her. She's brave too i feel like. I loved her dynamic with Jon! And her voice is so neat. Idk. I think it was love at first sight (first listen)

Impression now: So i don't feel like listening to the rest of the podcast changed my impression that much, cause obviously, yknow, she has no screen time LOL. But I explored her character on my own a bit i think. She's very only superficially analysed by the fandom i feel and it makes me sad :( anyways she's my wife and my prettiest princess and i love her and i want to wrap her in a blanket and give her everything good and turn her into an eye avatar and feed her innocents trauma lmao. I want only good things for her and she's not dying again on my watch :/

Favorite moment: I think it's when, during the prentiss attack, she gets out of document storage to save tim. It both shows how much she cares and also her absolute bravery and selflessness to the point of foolishness. We were all screaming for Tim to notice Jane. And this badass motherfucker was the one who actually went and jumped at him to get him out. Girl! Hell yeah! Also her quick thinking, she ran towards the exit after that. And the fire alarm... I love her discussion with elias after that, and her recalling her time in artefact storage... And then she dies. The best really are gone first (this says a lot about martin i guess lol. SORRY XD)

Unpopular opinion: So like, you know in episode 161 or 162 when she's talking with tim and she says it could never have worked between them? I feel like a lot of people saw that and went "she's aro" and like power to you obviously hc what you want but i feel like basing it on this singular piece of dialogue is. Meh. Like... Sometimes two people who are hot and smart and funny and nice and allo and get along well just won't work romantically and. That's fine that's normal. Idk yeah that's just that. My hot take!

Idea for a story: gosh. Ummmm. Need to come up with a new one. It's about sasha... And... Okay i want her to interact with elias. What are they doing? Okay okay NO i think sasha and the not them should argue and maybe pull each other's pigtails. In heaven or hell or purgatory or the inside of sasha's mind whatever. I think that would be quite fun.

Favorite relationship: you know what? I was all for Michael & Sasha's fun little thang and I still am. Bite me.

Favorite headcanon: mmmh. I think she would be an excellent eye avatar and wouldn't have many qualms with losing her humanity. I don't think she cares about hurting people because she digs into their lives, at least if it's people she doesn't care about. Like she's nice to her friends, but everyone else? She might actually be a bit of a bully and I am all for it.

Thank you for the ask!!!; i mighte do jon later maybe idk. Bye for now.

[liamgallaghermpreg]

jeremiah 8:20

– for @wincestwednesdays prompt: blood

Deanna’s never been the best at keeping track of her period, though in her defense her cycle has never exactly been regular. There’s always something – constantly swapping between fake insurances, going on and off the pill. A poor diet. Stress. Etcetera.

But in Detroit, she knows it’s been too long. A couple months, maybe three. She can’t remember. Can’t remember the last time she’d woken up with stains in her panties or the last time Sam had looked up from between her legs to say uh, I think it’s time to stock up on tampons, Dee. Everything in the past couple months has run together between God and the Devil and the angels who want to kill them and keep them alive and she just can’t remember jack shit.

She can’t even remember when this might have happened. Her and Sammy haven’t screwed much since she'd died and come back again, but clearly their sex life hasn’t suffered enough for them to not have fucked raw at least once these past few months.

She doesn’t bother to tell anybody. Bobby, Cas – they have enough on their plates, and Deanna’s just told her little brother to go ahead and offer himself up to Satan. Sorry, Dad. Couldn’t keep Sammy safe. Couldn’t keep him from knocking me up, either.

Deanna can’t have a baby, no matter how many secret domestic fantasies she harbors. Holding it, rocking it to sleep and passing out in a handmade chair. Sammy coming to find her and lifting the baby from her arms and putting it in the crib all gentle. Going days on not even her requisite 4 hours of beauty sleep. In another life, maybe. She can’t have a baby and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Did you know?” Deanna asks Cas, driving away from Lawrence all those hours later. Maybe days later. It’s all run together; she’s doing 80 in a 55 easy, and the trees that line the highway pass as nothing more than brown-grey-green blurs.

“Did I know what?” Castiel asks. He won’t look at her and well, that’s just fine. Her eyes are on the road and her grip on the wheel is so tight that she can feel all the folds and impressions in the leather making divots on her palm. She’s not looking at anybody.

“Don’t play dumb, Cas. That ain’t you.”

Castiel sighs, and then he’s so silent that she thinks maybe he’s gone, the bastard. Never was very good at goodbyes.

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Huh?”

“When I healed you,” Castiel says. His breathing is even; if he had a heartbeat Deanna is sure it would be steady. She feels like her whole esophagus is going to be ripped out from her throat any second, can feel a wave threatening to crash behind her eyelids, and here he is with his even cadence and his abiding faith in God. “When I healed you, it – I healed everything. I didn’t get to pick and choose.”

“Right,” she says. The mile markers and exit signs pass too fast for her to read them. “Right, I knew that.”

Castiel's voice sounds so gentle when he says: “Lucifer had beat you nearly to death. It was already dead, Deanna.” She hates it.

And aren't these things supposed to end in blood, anyway? Shouldn’t she have had this one last thing, one last moment of watching a part of her brother bleed from her, one last bit of Sam to have and to hold and to lose? Shouldn’t she have felt that singular pain, sharp in her gut, heavy in her cunt? Shouldn't she have bled for all those months she went without? It shouldn't have ended in nothing but a touch to the forehead. Everything she’s ever had, all taken away by God; fucking God and the Devil and all the angels who want to keep her alive. She’s not sure there are any left who want her dead, and maybe she wishes there were.

“Well, that’s just bullshit,” she says. Castiel doesn’t point out how thick her voice sounds. He doesn’t point out how it cracks over the sharp punch of the shit. With a flutter of wings, he’s gone. It doesn’t matter. She can’t have a baby, and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam. She’ll go live this apple pie life because that’s what Sammy wanted, and she’ll do it with somebody else’s kid.

[perilegs]

6 & 9 for Rook and Wyll !!

4,11 and 20 for Ati and Zevran !!!

KUUTTI IM SORRY I FORGOT YOU IN MY DRAFTS

thank you!!!! :3cc questions from this post

Rook/Wyll: Do they have any shared interests/hobbies? Do they ever do these hobbies together?

Hmm, Wyll's love for dancing rubs off on Rook and he'll teach them to dance too. :') Otherwise their hobbies tend to be different, but still something they can do in a shared space. Wyll and Rook could spend time enjoying each others presence, Wyll reading and Rook tinkering on something. (Wyll does pick up on some mechanical skills).

I think they like to play different board/card games together too. I have no basis for this it's just what I feel in my heart.

As for interests I can't think of too many that they both would have as they're more bound together by their ideals and values, and their love for adventure and eradicating what they deem evil. But I KNOW both of them are more than interested in hearing the other talk about their interests and get a bit into them too. Rook is such an elevator nerd, and I can see Wyll starting to appreciate their intricacies as time goes on too.

Oh, also! Wyll's tent has a telescope so I like to think he likes stargazing. Rook has spent most his live deep underground so he's never done that before, but it's definitely something they would enjoy too, so I think that's a hobby they'd also do together!

Their hobbies and interests also shift with time as, they're going to the Hells after the events of the game, but they might eventually settle down to live a quieter life.

Rook/Wyll: What is one quality they have in common?

They want to do what is just in quite a, hm, I guess ruthless way? That sounds bad but I mean things like how Wyll is one of the only companions who suggests killing Kagha. Both Wyll and Rook have a strong moral compass and aim to punish those who do wrong.

Ati/Zevran: How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

Answered here

Ati/Zevran: Does one act as a narrative foil to the other? How so?

Not sure if this is a Foil Foil but it's definitely a contrast, but. Zevran and Ati are both dead but living.

As in, how Zevran trying to assassinate her was a suicide mission, and he is now living despite never planning on doing so.

And how grey wardes start dying the moment they become wardens, a fate which Ati ended up in only because the other option would have been death, but faster. And after that, she has avoided death many times. Being saved by Flemeth, doing Morrigan's ritual.

Zevran is supposed to be a dead man, living a life he did not intend to see, and Ati got a second chance at life at the expense of a timer looming over.

I'm also using this question as an excuse to compare their mothers as what is a foil but contrast to heighten certain qualities.

Ati and Zevran were both born with no parents, their mothers dying in or shortly after childbirth. They were both raised communally, but in highly different circumstances. Zevran with the women in the brothel and Ati with her clan. They both had a similar circumstance of birth but the people and place they were born to made all the difference. Ati was allowed to grow up, whereas Zevran was forced to.

I find it heartbreaking how Zevran's only memory of her mother is a pair of gloves, and how he refers to her as his first victim. Ati didn't even learn the truth about her mother before she was an adult. Zevran's mother's death was held against him, while Ati's was kept from her.

I wish I could be more eloquent and go in depth about this but I will start crying if I do ha

Ati/Zevran: What is their best memory together?

It's hard for me to answer this question as I can't even imagine having just one memory that shines above the rest with someone I love. Ati and Zevran have a ton of good memories they look fondly upon.

But one I've been thinking about a lot recently is, well, not just a singular memory but a collection of memories from their nights in camp during the blight.

Wynne has dialog where she complains about noise coming from the two, which, is supposed to be understood as Zevran and Ati having loud sex but some years ago I saw a post here that referred to it that boiled down to "what if it was laughter?" And I think Ati and Zevran have had a lot of fun together.

They share stories, both those they've heard and of what they've seen. Zevran teaches Ati how to better use daggers. They share their notes on traps and poisons. The list goes on. Though the Blight is looming over them, a lot of their nights are filled with joy and laughter.

[random-bs-is-found-here]

Hey everyone! In celebration of Ubisoft releasing Just Dance 2025 edition, I made a little ranking of the soundtracks of different just dance version, from worst to best. FULLY MY OPINIONS, PLEASE DON'T UNALIVE ME.

I'm not going to include spin-offs, such as kids, china or experience.

Let's get started!

16. Just Dance 2025

Jesus Christ. I didn't really pay attention for a few years, ever since it was revealed JD 2023 won't be on Xbox One. I bought the game for the Switch today, and lemme say, I was far from impressed. Sure, coaches, backgrounds and the dance moves are beautiful, but the majority of songs are giving me 'brainrot'. And did Ariana Grande bribe the studio? 6 (including alt and extreme) songs out of the 40 were her songs, which isn't a lot at first glance, but it's still around 16% of the library (correct me if my math isn't mathing). Bang Bang (My Neurodivergent Anthem) or what and Calabria 2007 are pretty cool though.

15. Just Dance 2021

I have good memories about this one. The only problem is that they're pretty forgettable. If I had to pick favorites, I'd say Rare, all the good girls go to hell and Paca Dance were the best.

14. Just Dance 1

Again, somewhat good memories. I never owned it, only danced them from JD unlimited and YouTube. My main problem is that they're not that good quality, and since technology must've been a bit more restricted at that time, there could be only one coach per song. No duos, or anything. Favorites are Hot and Cold plus Womanizer.

13. and 12. Just Dance 2 and 3

I wanted to write about these two simultaneously, and it's for a reaaaly personal reason. It's idiotic, really. While both of these games' soundtracks are good, I would never be able to correctly tell which game they belong to. That's it. That's the reason. Girlfriend and Baby one more time are my all time faves.

11. Just Dance 2015

Boy, did I hate that one. Despite being my second Just Dance game, I barely knew those songs and the scoring system, using Kinect, was waay too harsh on me. To this day, it's the hardest Just Dance version on my mental list. My favorites are Problem, Dark Horse and 4x4.

10. Just Dance 2018

Welp, another petty reason. Soundtrack is awesome, but somebody that I deeply hate now used to (or still) own(s) this version. Many of the songs remind me of them and I hate it. I quite like 24k Magic and How far I'll go, though.

9. Just Dance 2020

The 10th anniversary of Just Dance. I have fond memories of this one. My sis and I competed against each other in a singular song we both exceed in, and I loved the World Dance Floor, where most of the time, the victory was ours as we were so good in these songs. We still join sometimes. If you see Victoria9219, then you've found us🤭 365 is kinda forgettable though. Faves were I am the best, Always look on the bright side of life and Stop movin'.

8. Just Dance 2019

A nostalgic title of mine. The third JD game of my life. I still remember the moments of first launch. The last one to have a pointy edged cuboid as its meter on the left. Just perfection. New Rules and work work raised me into the Just Dancer I am today.

7. Just Dance 2014

My first ever JD game so I'm kinda biased. Still remember playing my very first song (which was Just Dance, hehehe) in clear detail. The only JD game I bought some DLCs for. And, oh, do I wish they kept vs mode in. Those dances between She Wolf & Where have you been, Kiss You& Pound the alarm and gentleman & fine china were awesome. Can't hold us, applause and feel so right took the palm.

6. Just Dance 2024

It's uh... Kinda strange for me, imma admit. When I only had the demo, I took a look at the soundtrack, and it was okay. Not the best, but still better than whatever 2025 is. Since I never danced any of them, I am going to assign How you like that and can't tame her as favorites

5. Just Dance 2023

I had a hard time deciding whether JD2022 or this should be fifth place, but ultimately, I decided it's better to place familiarity over new things. Thus, JD 2023 was placed here. The soundtrack itself is almost impeccable. Except for one thing... In my opinion, Toxic shouldn't have gotten a remake. It was perfect the way it was. Therefore, if I ever buy JD 2023 or JD +, I'm never going to touch the new version. I only danced one of these songs, Telephone, thus it'll be the favorite for this one.

4. Just Dance 2022

K-pop in this generation is perfect. I have a separate list dedicated to just that. Even after all these years, the songs are entertaining, and I scarcely get tired of them. Pop/Stars, Jopping, Black Mamba and Baianá gave me so much dopamine.

--0--

And now, the top 3!

--0--

3. Just Dance 4

Seriously. The amount of songs from that game on my Spotify lists are insane. Words can't describe how much I love this generation, and if it weren't for another version that I came to like more in a short span of time, this would be second place. Here are my top 3 from Just Dance 4:

2. Just Dance 2016

This one was such a hit. I spent long hours, sometimes even days dancing. Because of this sudden hype, JD 4 has been pushed back to third place. Here are my top 3 from Just Dance 2016:

(↑ this one might not be exactly accurate to the one in the game. Best I could find, okay?)

1. Just Dance 2017

22nd of February, 2019. If we don't count a faint memory from a birthday party, Worth it from Just Dance 2017 was the song that piqued my interest in Just Dance. From that moment, my obsession with Just Dance had begun. All songs are hype. So much that I almost broke my ankle while dancing to Don't stop me now. I even got to experience its world dance floor before the servers were shut down. In my opinion, Just Dance should make the newer titles more like this one, including new modes, all time favorite songs and more... My favorites from Just Dance 2017:

--0--

Thank you for listening to this rant.

[xentari94]

So… I’ve been thinking about this more lately, and a YouTube comment I read earlier got me wondering…

This commenter was expressing how they think we’ll take Cayde’s body to the portal and that will somehow do something to bring him back. Something about dead energy… idk it was really confusing to be honest. But hey you never know. But I’ll be real honest, idk what to think about the veil. I know at this point I don’t trust it. If that’s even where Cayde is at… guess it remains to be seen.

But what it got me to thinking about was the Forsaken cover art.

So I joined in 2019, missed all the Mara visits and all that. And true, some things I still don’t even know what they are.

Like this for example…

Can anyone tell me what that is in the sky? I’ve always automatically assumed it had something to do with or is the entrance to the ascendant plane. But idk.

It’s visible in the cover art too. Now I’m sure many, many people have gone over this a million times and then some but-

If that’s supposed to be us carrying Cayde, clearly we’re on the Shore but where exactly? That’s not the Prison. Looks more like the High Plains area to me. But why would Bungie put us right there, I very highly doubt we walked all over the Shore with Cayde in between his death and funeral cutscenes.

Also I’d like to point out some minor details I’ve noticed. And by minor details I mean one singular detail that peaks my curiosity.

In the last stand cutscene, Cayde gets that armor pad covering his left shoulder ripped off, not completely, but looks as if it’s barely hanging on.

Yet in the cover art it’s fixed?

In fact it doesn’t even look like it’s been damaged at all. And that’s a big wtf moment for me because unless Bungie just copy pasted a pre-Forsaken Cayde and made him look dead for the cover art, or if our guardian had the time somewhere before reaching the tower to immediately know how to fix a piece of armor we’ve never messed with before, it would lead me to assume even further that the cover art is foreshadowing something. And not us getting revenge.

Because if the shoulder thing on Cayde’s armor was fixed, that would mean we’re carrying him after we’ve already been back to the Tower to have his armor repaired or again, we somehow fixed it ourselves. Because I’m also assuming it would have been repaired to the best ability along with the rest of his armor before he was buried out of respect. And making a note of him still having his cloak on. It easily could have been put back on him. And now with Amanda gone, I don’t know if Cayde’s cloak is just going to be left where it is or moved.

So to get to where I’m going with this… I’m a 15th wish theorist, everyone who knows me knows I am lol Is the cover art us taking Cayde to the ascendant realm? To go to Riven? Maybe this is after we’ve seen Cayde wherever he is in the teaser. Maybe we have Sundance with us.

Maybe I’m going too damn deep into this but- after the general sadness the cover art brought me, during the time it was too difficult for me to even look at… it just seems… odd now. How instead of taking his body to the portal, perhaps we take him to where our last wish can be granted.

“This one you shall cherish.”

[agentnico]

Ted - Season 1 (2024) review

Look, it’s a live-action Family Guy. Let’s not even sugarcoat that fact.

Plot: It's 1993, and Ted the bear's moment of fame has passed. He's living back home with his best friend, John Bennett, and his family. While Ted may be a lousy influence on John, he's a loyal pal who will go out on a limb for friendship.

The Ted movies are enjoyable if a tad forgettable pieces of comedic crudeness. Also they haven’t aged the best, so I was quite apprehensive when I heard that they were making a prequel streaming series based on the property. Originally I was not even planning on watching it, however upon its release on the streaming service Peacock, which by the way has anyone even heard of Peacock?? I swear there are so many streaming services around now that it’s hard to keep up with them all. That Weird Al movie that came out a year ago was on something called Roku. Still have no clue what the fudge is Roku! Can’t we just get these streaming companies to bundle up into one and give us all the content on one singular platform? Now is that too much to ask!? Apparently so. Regardless, with that rant aside, let’s talk about the Ted show.

Indeed it’s a surprise that the Ted series is actually kind of good! It’s a throwback to the 90s American sitcoms, with the show focusing on not only the bear but also on his family living in the suburbs. And each family members gets up to their amusing antics every episode, and though none of it breaks any new comedic ground, I must say this was a very enjoyable and easy watch. For one, this show is actually funny. From the ridiculous scenarios that occur, with Ted and John smoking weed for the first time, to their dad wishing upon a star and bringing his toy truck to life who becomes a Republican racist, to John going to buy a condom at a supermarket where an overly nice shop assistant helps him to pick what kind only to turn out to be a creep who runs away as soon as another shop assistant appears. Look, it’s all ridiculous and stupid, but for the most part a lot of the jokes land.

Also, it’s so easy for the teddy bear to steal the show, and of course Seth Macfarlane is on top form riffing and throwing insulting one-liners left and right, and there’s also so much physical and slapstick comedy that comes from the bear’s movements, from how he runs to the way he stares at people with emotionless eyes. The teddy is great, and also even though he’s crude, he never became tiresome or annoying, whereas in the movies he did get a tad repetitive. However the human characters also get enough development and focus that you warm up to the entire family. The kid that plays John was actually spot on with his Mark Wahlberg impression, nailing the accent, but also as a whole he did a great job having to act mostly next to CGI character. His chemistry with the bear was very good, and you felt their friendly camaraderie. As for the parents, the mum was hilarious as the innocently nice housekeeper who was super naive about everything, and the dad at first came off annoying and selfish, but as the show progressed you warmed up to him too due to the solid writing. Then Giorgia Whigham rounds up the cast as the rebellious cousin who disagrees with the old-school beliefs of the family, but also ends up being a key support to each character.

In terms of the negatives, for a show that’s billed as a sitcom, the episodes were way too long. The premiere alone was 50 mins, and then rest ranged around the 40 minute mark, and so pacing did drag at times. Especially when certain jokes were stretched out longer than they should be, they really should have been kept to around 20 mins. Aside of the pacing issues, this was a solid comedy show.

Ted by no means reinvents the comedic genre, however it’s truly an amusing show that will have you smiling throughout, and turns out to be way better than it had any right to be. Also the special effects on the bear are also really impressive. He really does look like a real talking bear, and the movements were all fluid and well done. So yep, Ted is a win. Here’s hoping for a second season!

Overall score: 7/10

[geodetojoy]

hihihihi o/

rng selected questions for the “weird asks” post! and i proof read them this time lmao

92, 25, 88, 28, 78

idk what’s with all the eights but *shrugs*

have fun love you lux!!

yello!!! ty for the ask hehe <333

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight, or fairy lights?

Huge fan of fairy lights, but i love me some natural light too! other two are STRONG hates lmaooo

25. first song you remember hearing?

ok i have two kinds of answers here- ones like specifically a kids song and ones not

the kids song is the mah na mah na song that i guess after looking it up came from the muppets???? idk it was in a voice box for a stuffed monkey with velcro hands that i had as a baby lmaooo

and the first like. idk radio song? normal song? that i remember ever hearing (and memorizing!) is I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz :P my mom was/is a huge fan of his so i listened to his stuff a lot as a kid!

88. your greatest wish?

ooooooo boy theres a lot to unpack here lmaoooo

ive got a lot of stuff i wanna do ofc, like make games and art to show off to the world and to (hopefully) leave a positive impact, and id love to see/meet some of my idols and ofc meet my online friends, but my greatest wish?

man, idk, is it too cliche to say i just wanna be happy? to be safe and secure at the end of the day? (thats. thats a fucking starkid lyric dear lord LMAOOO) to not have to worry about if im gonna make it to the next day, if im gonna be able to take care of myself and those im responsible for? to not worry about anything and everything at any given moment? to love and be loved? isnt that what everyone wants?

28. five songs to describe you?

OOOO THIS ONES FUN

IT MIGHT ALSO END UP SAD IM SORRY IN ADVANCE IF IT DOES LMAOOOO

Top of my School by Katherine Lynn-Rose

ok i kept picking songs from NOAHFINNCE's GROWING UP ON THE INTERNET album but i didnt want it to clog up the answer so ill just put that whole album as one of the five :P

Body Terror Song by AJJ

several songs from The Normal Album by Will Wood (same as the other one- didnt wanna clog it up)

oh god why is it only fiveeee ive got so many more. michael in the bathroom from be more chill, sweet hibiscus tea by penelope scott, pretty little things by the crane wives, little miss perfect or ordinary, fuckin, my r by Lollia, and so many more but i think for my final answer i gotta say grocery store by Cavetown. sososo many of their songs would fit but that one specifically i think is the best

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

well. ok. heres the thing.

i like neither of those products.

BUT

the singular time ive ever enjoyed coffee was indeed from a gas station, so that one wins

THIS WAS SO FUN AS ALWAYS TYSM MADSSSS IMMA DO THE OTEHR ONE THEN HEAD TO YOUR INBOX o7

[the-owl-tree]

You know, I actually am reading Tree's Roots atm bc the Sisters talk had me thinking if I fell for how it was written like a naive young adult idiot and low and behold, I have so much to complain about. Apologies of the long rant in your inbox if you don't mind. ^^'

I find Moonlight's "in-universe" explanation why they can't let a tom stay past 6 moons a bunch of bullshit, however that's more on the fault of the writing than anything with her. Seriously, "We let a tom stay longer than 6 moons, and then everything went to hell. We suddenly had to deal with the hardest winter and so many died as a result" What? A singular tomcat has no effect on a literal bad coincidence! What is this malarkey??? There's bad omens sure but there's bad omens and then there's using it as a means to essentially scare Earth to leave.

It's only AFTER all that that Moonlight then gives a more grounded part of why Earth can't stay: The tom that was allowed to stay grew too dependent on the Sisters, didn't know how to take care of himself because of this dependence, and his best means to survive alone was to become a domestic cat. That in of itself wasn't bad however when you really stop and think about it.

But let's say we take it further. Toms in the Sisters need this early separation bc growing dependent on the Sisters disrupts their ability to connect with the earth itself. The Sisters are connected to the sky, since they sing for the mollies in the stars and when toms die they DO grieve but are comforted with the notion that the tomcats that die are returned to the earth where they've always belonged and are welcomed. A tom that will soon wander should be focusing on connecting with the land he will travel, and focus on connecting with the spirits that they all share. Not doing that will disrupt his ability to connect, leading him to have a harder time being able to take care of himself bc of this struggling connection, or might not be able to connect to the land at all bc he's more focused on being dependent on the sky (aka the Sisters). Or, idk, SOMETHING like that. That dependence and inability to connect due to it should be the problem, not some bad weather leading to a potentially bad omen. How do the Sisters even know what omens are? Why does every single non-clan group need to know what these things are? Anyways... take away the "we're throwing male children out bc we're evilz and bad and inferior and sexist" thing and literally have it be the "This is your coming-of-age, learn it, live it, be the man you want to be, because you will have to learn to take care of yourself and have the means to now, that means just isn't us anymore, we love you and wish you love and happiness wherever we find you again" moment it should be instead. I wish we got that..

Earth already was having a hard time seeing spirits, he was a late bloomer, and thus would struggle to take care of himself as is had Root not came about bc those spirits are what essentially guide toms to learning the ways of the world and how to survive it. Literal Spirit Guides, and Earth didn't know how to actually sit down and relax to see them. Why is the idea of him becoming a domestic cat so bad? He was already insisting on staying... who knows how long tbh? Why is being in a comfy home taken care of by humans seen as some bane for these cats? Especially since he didn't have the means to take care of himself as is. He couldn't see spirits then, why is the idea of being in safety and comfort with a human UNTIL he does so terrifying? And then when he has to leave, after getting the genuine love from his female relatives and colony-mates (seriously idk how I thought Moonlight didn't love him when this novella came out but I'm READING IT AND SHE DOES we're just put in the perspective of a tom that for some reason despite growing up in this culture just ASSUMES THE SISTERS HATES HIM??? HUH?), he doesn't even wander the entire night leaving his kitten-hood behind, complains about being alone for ONE night, just assumes the Sisters and with it his mother abandoned him and never would've missed him(??? Despite people grieving differently hello?), IMMEDIATELY goes back and follows them, and then tells his own Sister Ice when he meets her that she along with the others don't care for him, even assuming that if they caught him before that that he would get attacked and driven out? Despite the fact that in SQH when they DO meet again Moonlight doesn't do that. She's literally.... just traditional like the rest of the Sisters. That's all it is. I am one to be all "yeah fuck traditions wooo!" sure but this society literally has its head on its shoulders for the most part. It knows what it is, it knows how itself works. It's flawed like the rest but that doesn't mean its badand nothing needs to be fucked compared to the Clans. Toms and their spirits are no different from apprentices being the charges of their mentors in the long run.

It's honestly why I wish we had a perspective that WASN'T Earth/Tree if we were gonna have a Sister's perspective. I want the perspective of a Sister who has to deal with the eventual wandering of her son(s) and see how she grieves for him despite the comfort that he will be fine because he has the earth itself to guide him. I wanna see how life in the Sisters is long-term for these mollies. I would love to see how Ice, in her perspective and life post-Earth time, came to terms with the idea that she's choosing to give up everything she knew to be with her lover without separation, and comforted with the fact that The Sisters will miss her but will gladly welcome her back if things don't work out. I wanna see the perspective of a young tom that, in growing up IN THIS CULTURE, is EXCITED for his eventual wander. Literally give him the BIGGEST wanderlust, wanting to see the world and maybe even exploring outside the boundaries of the camp as a taste of what he could have and the Sisters seeing his enthusiasm and being so endeared by it. I wanna see how, within the Sisters territory, this tom sees spirits and his relationship with them early in his life and how they train these toms through this eye. Let his wander be a life full of adventure and spirit! No ties to him anymore, he is his own cat and can do whatever he wants now!

But no, Instead, we are for some reason given the ONE CAT that, despite growing up within this very group, taught their ways, and thus only knows THIS life, is completely against everything he's lived up to this point, complains CONSTANTLY about this only life being how things are despite growing up this way and not knowing how outside cats are like to have this comparison, complaining about the only traditions he knows, resents his mother literally for sending him off on his coming of age mark like Snail and Chestnut were (they were fine being sent off btw, and Stream was also not worried about his wander) and assuming she abandoned him even though every other tom his age up to this point did not hate her and also she didn't fucking abandon him oml, even assuming she doesn't love him just because he was at the age of independence for his group and so Moonlight didn't need to baby him anymore, somehow is the ONE SISTERBORNE TOM TO NOT SEE SPIRITS WHEN EVERYONE ELSE HAS BTW, and thus is literally a plot device to deem the Sisters ways bad. Earth/Tree is a plot device, plain and simple. Bc there's no way in hell one singular cat somehow knows how to act like a xenophobic clan cat expecting the only life he knows with NO OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE to change. None. I swear I could do a better job writing a cat with a non-clan perspective than the Erins...

Earth/Tree being a late-bloomer isn't a problem in of itself, I imagine chances like that are rare as hell to where the Sisters don't have a means to work around it without that risk of dependence, but it's not impossible to think about, it's EVERYTHING ELSE about him that's so damn wrong. And what's even more frustrating is the story team (fucking website people ngl I hate them) tried to write about how in Tree's article that he was a character they had all figured out from the start and that he's so complex and interesting... no, he's an outsider tom written with a xenophobic clan cat mindset in an instance that wouldn't happen and is whiny, sexist, and other words I can't think of at the moment. Tree's Roots could've been interesting, but no, it falls into the same pitfalls all the other recent novellas got only more offending bc it's from the lens of an outsider living in an Amazonian society full of women.

I can never get behind like. the weird outrage people have at the """"misandric"""" sisters because if you think about this novella for like five seconds, the bizarre misogyny and crumbling worldbuilding becomes very evident (as you pointed).

i know the gut reaction people have for characters who change their names and resent their moms, i know why ppl are so emotionally charged by these. but i find the takes these emotions feel just...kind of fundamentally useless analysis for a lot of reasons but that's besides the point.