#if that makes even a lick of sense

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Alright I gotta ask. When it comes to Melusine Creator... how does Neuvillette fit in? He basically sees the Melusines as his daughters, so what would he do when he learns of a new Melusine and their abyssal guardian? How would FL react? Would Neuvillette Know? I need answers!!!

teehee excellent you walked right into my trap >:) sit down, sit down, make yourself some tea

Neuvillette is a little confused when Sedene cheerfully tells him about the new sibling she and the other Melusine have welcomed into Merusea- as far as he knows, "new" Melusine aren't really a thing- but simply shrugs it off at first as his children being carefree and whimsical... until he overhears Menthe tiredly mumbling about a giant creature the color of night that sparkles like stars, and the Iudex's blood runs cold. he sets out towards the village the moment his work ends for the day, diving into the water and under the earth before surfacing in familiar caverns, ones he's had memorized for hundreds of years. Cosanzeana greets him cheerfully, with the same flower garden as last time, skipping alongside her father as he ventures deeper into the village, coming across a new seashell house tucked away in the corner

Neuvillette's eyes widen when he settles his gaze on an armored monster, wings all tangled with starlight, gently cradling an oddly patterned Melusine, similar stars in their eyes. the beast growls at him, holding the Melusine closer as they begin to shiver fearfully

it's you, the Creator- he knows it is. but how? perhaps the god of everything has a similar method of rebirth as he does... whatever the reason is, Neuvillette quickly gives you a deep, firm bow, keeping both of his hands in front of him, and the Abyssal creature's hisses slowly fade into soft purrs as you raise a mittened hand and pat it on the head

with your safety intact, you tell Neuvillette everything, the Hydro Sovereign listening with mounting horror. no wonder you wanted to stay hidden in Merusea- the only ones who showed you any kindness were the Melusine and this monster, the one you called Foul Legacy. you plead for him not to tell anyone, about you or Legacy, and he gives you his word as Iudex that he would make sure no harm came to you and your friends- after all, you were beloved by all of his children. as your disciple, it was his duty to protect you whenever necessary... although, with how you won the friendship of an Abyssal creature of all things, Neuvillette is sure you'll be well defended

so the Dragon of Hydro tells no one of his brief trip to the countryside, not saying a single word of what he found, for now

[greyroses02]

Norton and Orpheus are so indie rpg horror game visual novel coded.

[s0fter-sin]

vampire bats share mouthfuls of blood to other bats they’re close to if they weren’t able to feed and now i need old vampire!ghost sharing a bloody kiss with fledgling!soap, giving him mouthfuls of blood bc his fresh fangs are too sensitive to bite with

it’s been so long since he was turned that ghost’s forgotten the deep ache that comes with growing fangs and he almost worries when johnny goes to bite into the meal he’s brought him only to whimper and pull back; only the slightest pinpricks of a bite left in the man’s neck, barely enough to bring blood to the surface

it’s only when johnny whines and massages at his gums that ghost realises his oversight; crooning at his sweet mate in reassurance. he’s not upset that he couldn’t feed, at the unintentional rejection of his offering. he’ll make the pain stop

ghost pulls the man to his mouth and sinks in his fangs, sucking in a heavy mouthful and drops the now paralysed prey back to his feet; his throat steadily gushing with blood and spilling over his body

he cups johnny’s face, looking into his eyes, teary with pain and hunger, and purses his lips to carefully drip the blood into his mouth. the pain immediately vanishes from his eyes, replaced with pure bliss as he opens his mouth wide; curling his tongue to catch every drop. ghost presses his mouth to his in a hungry, blood-filled kiss; tongues twining together as they share the taste

johnny sucks the last of it from his lips and ghost guides him down to lap at the prey’s neck; licking up the blood he was too weak to draw himself. he’s ravenous with it, his whole face covered in red as he licks up the spill and suckles at ghost’s bite

ghost’s filled with an overwhelming pride at having provided for his mate in an even deeper way than just hunting for him. he spilled the blood johnny’s drinking; fed him in the most intimate way their kind knows and he’ll do it a hundred times over for his love

[clowningaroundmars]

my personal atsv hobie brown hc is that this boy can build a watch that enables the wearer to travel to any dimension they want to, made entirely out of cobbled up parts he "finds"

but anytime anyone brings up AI or algorithms or social media he pretends to be 100 years old

hobie: what's a bloody "snapchat"? fuckin 'ell those effects are nightmarish, mate

miles, exasperated: hobie, you BUILD TECH that astrophysicists in my dimension can't even replicate. how are filters on a phone trippin you up?

hobie: dunno, everyone's got their strengths n weaknesses, i 'spose... 🙄😒

[one-idea]

Marineford goes from extremely tragic to hilarious if you think of it like a DnD complain.

Ace’s player and Luffy’s player are actual brothers.

Ace started playing in late high school / freshman year of collage his first campaign was with the spade pirates but the group fell apart because the other players got job/ went to different schools / just life.

But Ace loved his character and wanted to keep playing. His friend, who played Masked Deuce, wanted to keep playing as well but wanted his character to be more combated focused. So he created the character of Marcos. (Both doctors and first mates, both friends with Ace) They got some new friends and kept playing in the same world just with a new crew

Whitebeard’s player is definitely Marco’s players actual dad. They need another player and Whitebeard loves his son and was like “I’ll play!” He either knows nothing about the game or has been playing since the 80’s and is the most knowledgeable person at the table. There is no in between.

The DM is probably Shanks or Rayleigh. I like to think it’s Shanks and his level 20 character he’s had for years just pops up occasionally to solve problem that the party needs help with.

Anyhow Luffy has heard Ace talk about DnD for years but he doesn’t have any friends to play with. So when he goes to college it’s like his number one goal.

Make friends,

make friends play DnD.

(We will talk about the Strawhats chaos later)

So everything’s going great. Ace visited Luffy and joined in on a few of their sessions. Still plays Ace, he loves this character, he’s played him for like four years now. But he gets to know Luffy’s friends and joins them for a bit in Alabasta.

He goes back to his campaign and tells the whole group about Luffy (he has been for years but now he can talk about Luffy’s complain) and everyone wants him to bring Luffy around to play with them.

But then tragedy. The whitebeards have to disband, most of them are graduating, Marco’s player is going to med school it’s just going to be a long time before they can all sit down and play again.

So they decided to go out with a bang!

The Dm has Ace get captured and they plan this elaborate jail break for the party. But it just so happens Luffy is going to be on break at the same time as their last few sessions. And wouldn’t it be great if he joined them!

So the Dm (they are Dming both games god bless them) has the strawhats split up (they are all going on break and it’s a fun story reason for why they all won’t be together) then he pulls Luffy aside and is like, how do you feel about playing with your brother’s group? Luffy’s pumped he’s never been so excited.

So Luffy does all of impel down. Ace is there cheering him on and having fun role play at the same time. His friend Jinbei had wanted to try playing for a while so they gave him a character card and him and Luffy escaped Jail together.

But then we get to the actual Marineford season. It last for hours. There’s combat. There’s roll play. What none of the players knew, was that Whitebeard had approached the Dm about his character dying in combat protecting his kids. (He wanted this to be a memorable session for his son and his friends, they all cried, they loved it)

But then Ace get caught up in it all (this was not planed) and ends up getting his character killed. The table is in shock. There is no way that just happened!

Luffy is sobbing. His brother just sacrificed the character he had played for four years to save his character. He knows how much Ace means to his brother. He’s an actual reck. He had loved Ace to.

Ace’s player is upset, he did love that character, but it’s part of the game. It happens. He’s more upset about how hard Luffy’s taking it.

After the session the two brothers are hanging out. Luffy is apologizing for getting Ace killed and his brother, who’s played for years, and wants to make his brother laugh, says no worries want to help me make a new character?

So they spend the break writing a new character and working them into Ace and Luffy’s back story.

Later when the strawhats are all back together (breaking the news to them that Ace’s character had died was wild!) they are playing and making their way to Dressrosa. A new friend, Law, has joined them. And he is being so serious about his character’s serious back story.

Then Ace’s player roles in like “can I join for a session or two?” All the Strawhats are thrilled, they had a great time playing with him during the Alabasta arc. The Dm says sure and asks about his character.

The two brother’s just smirk at each other and the player introduces his new character: Sabo

They explain the back story, this is Luffy’s OTHER big brother. The strawhats are dying. Law is over them, this is serious! The Dm is just exasperated “you don’t have the Mera Mera fruit.” He’s trying to drive home that this is a different character. Ace/Sabo’s player agrees and they start playing.

Except the Dm loves to troll and brings in the Mera Mera fruit. And everyone already knows what’s about to happen.

Sabo eats the fruit and his player yells “thank god” throws Sabo character sheet to the side. And before anyone can ask why he pulls back out Ace’s character sheet crosses off Ace’s name and writes Sabo next to it (he also raises his intelligence stat)

Character name: Ace Sabo

“I’m back baby!”

I just love that anytime he pops in him and Luffy just say the most ridiculous things about their back stories.

“Remember how Ace had a tattoo of his name spelled wrong to show that he’s not book smart. Well that was a lie. He did it to represent Ace, Sabo, Crybaby, and Edward Newgate.” Ace/Sabo’s player says with Luffy nodding aggressively besides him.

Whitebeard player find out. Finds it all hilarious and is flattered Ace/Sabo’s player brought his character into their nonsense.

Every now and then Marco and Ace/Sabo will come play at the same time and Marco always ends up calling Sabo Ace for the whole session.

[dreemurr-skelememer]

I felt actual fear and dread upon reading that (collar and bin) sorry. Something about that is terrifying. The Horrors are real

like why did he sew it like that. what's practical about this

[justaz]

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance ��like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.

[pastelaspirations]

Is your fanfic on ao3 or somewhere else?? I need to get to reading it lol

W e l l. U m. Okay. Like, I should have expected this. Especially with a certain TWO people going around, clamoring for people to read it. Am side-eying you, Moldiee and Anayz, h a r d-

So uh. Y e a h, it's on ao3. Linked here for your convenience. JUST. It's l o n g. It doesn't start out that way, it starts off short, but then just gets longer and l o n g e r and-

Let's just say you're going to be reading this for a while probably

[lifblogs]

Crying about Omega looking like Tech. It makes no god damn sense since she’s never looked like him, but oh my god, she looks like him.

[vitaetmorsfilo]

i wonder, could be that slay the princess, which as far as i understand it about a lot of things but i think most of all is about choices, could also be about art?

the thing that gets me intrigued is that the princess herself has said that she is what player perceives her to be, "if you believe i can do it, then i can", and that what makes the shifting mound, different perspectives of her

that sounds to me a lot like commentary on some modern art nowadays, that modern art is not just a thing, but your feelings towards it that shapes it. there was a little comics snippet, where man was looking at malevich's square and called it useless, and the second panel was the painting itself screaming at man that he is useless (i can't for the love of me find it). so, the mans feelings towards the picture shaped the picture itself in his mind.

some may say that it is what is art, a sort of conversation, an exchange between the piece of art and the viewer.

and i think it falls neatly into place the dynamic between the princess and the hero/player. the former is the art, in all it expanse and variety, while the latter is the viewer, who brings it clarity, whose feelings shape the world around this art in one moment of a time, while having conversation not just with art, but themselves, too.

[yourtamaki]

if u ever wanna yap abt ace im here to listen 🫶🏼🫶🏼

you’re the sweetest for letting me ramble

actually i’ve been thinking about ace and how bad sex is when you first get together STAY WITH ME!!

he just wants it to go well so bad. ace has so much of his self-worth tied up in what he can do for you. if there’s anything he can do to make your life easier or better, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

but all that means is that the first time you undress each other and fall into bed, all his attention is focused on you. he makes you cum on his fingers and his tongue more than you can count but every time you try to reach out and touch him, ace is pulling away. he doesn’t think he deserves it, not yet, not when he can do better.

it’d probably get to the point where you feel a little alone cause while yes, he’s touching you and making you feel good, ace is concentrated to the point of being distant and quiet.

it may take awhile for him to grasp that sex isn’t something he does to you but with you. even when he does start to be more present, it’s still an uphill battle cause he’s terrified of what you’ll see if he’s that vulnerable with you.

eventually, being that open and connected with you will be as easy as breathing and sex will be fun and fulfilling for both of you but it takes a lot of work for both of you to get there

[getyinyusedtoit]

though it's not an entirely accurate statement and the metaphor isn't a perfect one by a long shot, the phrase "the sun rises in the east and sets in the west" absolutely consumes me whenever i think about fengqing. even moreso when you consider that south doesn't always mean down directionally, but is often used as a descriptor or synonym for down. so you have feng xin (east), mu qing (west), and the southern territory they share and preside over (the point beneath them, the horizon that the sun crests over and sets beneath).

sunrise and sunset are unmatched in their power and beauty and it's hard to say which one people love more. sometimes the dawn gains a few more hours while the dusk loses some and vice versa, but both will always be present without fail. sunrise bursts over the horizon and brings with it an invigorating heat and sunset paints the sky in vibrant hues that leave you filled with warmth and steady peace.

while they may be two very different people, i do often see them as being so very similar to one another where it matters most and it's why their specific brand of misunderstanding trips them up so badly. it's also the reason why, in spite of mutual misunderstanding, them being appointed the joint gods of the same region WORKS. they have always had a symbiotic relationship out of duty, yes, but duty alone didn't create the type of understandings they are still able to have despite not fully seeing eye to eye. they are literally two halves of the sun, bright and blazing.

[o0anapher0o]

Okay, I know I’m late to the party and this has probably been discussed to death, but I have thoughts and they need out.

I’ve been a Star Trek fan all my life so I’m very familiar with writers on a show going “You know what would be a cool idea? A surprise reveal that retroactively changes everything. Plot holes? What do you mean plot holes? It’s called texture.” But even with that background the Iris is Carlos’ secret wife plot was one of the dumbest, least well thought out reveals I have ever seen and that includes Spock getting a surprise secret sibling twice.

It’s just created this weird Discworld-logic phenomenon where Carlos in season 4 has been married to Iris for nearly ten years, but they definitely weren’t married last season (or at least in 1&2). And here’s the thing that bugs me so much: I understand why they wrote it and it works for the characters, it just makes absolutely no sense within the established canon of the show. Like, do I believe Carlos is the type who would get hetero married to his best friend to placate his parents and then not tell his boyfriend about it until he absolutely had to? I love Carlos, but yes, 100% he would do that. Unfortunately we have absolutely no indication that he so much as met Iris before 4x01. The way Carlos story had been told before it makes no sense narratively or emotionally.

In season one Carlos is introduced explicitly as Michelle’s friend and it’s heavily implied they only met through the investigation of her sister’s disappearance. While that is never explicitly stated and I’m willing to suspend my disbelieve here, the fact is that Carlos is involved in and contributes significantly to the investigation, an investigation he wouldn’t get anywhere near if he was Iris’ husband, in fact he would likely be a main suspect (from a police perspective the situation is that a (white) woman, married to her (latino) husband disappeared after a fight with her boyfriend. Once she was presumed dead the most likely scenario is that either the boyfriend or the husband did it).

But even if we neglect realism in proceedings (which, fair in a show that has a fucking volcano in the middle of Austin), Carlos being best friends and married to Iris would have had a different emotional impact. For one thing his relationship with Michelle would be different. As we see him, Carlos is a friend to Michelle, supporting her in her loss, but there is no indication that they share that loss. And if Iris had been Carlos best friend you cannot tell me Michelle wouldn’t have thrown that in his face everytime he tried to get her to accept that Iris might be dead. Michelle is not one to refrain from a little guilt tripping if it gets her what she wants. But she is also an empathetic person, who would have told her friend when they found Iris alive. (Technically the hospital would have probably called him that they had his wife but) there should have at least been an attempt to contact him when she does find her. As it is we don’t even see Carlos find out about Iris being alive and Michelle literally tells Owen before she even considers telling Carlos (literally she doesn’t even look at him when he comes to the firehouse to pick up TK).

And it continues in season two. If Carlos was married to Iris (and his parents canonically know about it, which is of course the point) then his relationship with his parents in season 2 doesn’t make any sense.

Carlos is estranged from his parents because he believes they don’t accept him being gay and them not having talked about it since he came out to them means they’re still hoping it was just a phase and he would change his mind. The thing is if Carlos came out as gay to his parents at 17 and then married a woman 2-3 years later that hope/opinion would be entirely justified because to them that would have been exactly what happened. Even if they know the marriage is basically over, he still married a woman after he told them he never would so he must have changed his mind, right? How are they supposed to know the marriage was the error and not the coming out, especially if they never talked about it. There is a huge difference between ‘I don’t want to rub their noses in [something they might not like me for]’ and ‘they think I’m not actually gay because I went so far as to marry a woman to make them happy’. One is not advertising your queerness were you think it’s not welcomed the other is deliberately stepping back in the closet. In the latter case it makes no sense for Carlos parents to accept his sexuality and relationship with TK without at least asking about Iris and confusion at meeting Carlos ‘friend from work’ would have been justified.

Tl:dr Carlos being best friends with and married to Iris doesn’t make sense with anything established in seasons 1 and 2. It doesn’t work for his relationships with the people who would have known about it and it doesn’t work from a purely practical this-is-how-the-world-works standpoint either. Carlos in the early seasons did not know Iris and had no relationship with her beyond her being his friend’s missing sister.

[cuubism]

"Nice place you have here," says Desire, sliding into the booth opposite Hob.

Hob, unfortunately, recognizes them by voice alone. Desire speaks with the melody of an arpeggio, smoothed into oblivion by the sustained press of a piano pedal. Drag without release, in comparison to Dream's resounding deep notes.

"Never seen you here before," Hob says, instead of get out of my pub. He doesn't actually need to start a fight.

"I've decided to respect my brother's play set for now," Desire says archly, as if this is a huge consideration on their part. "He's been through so much recently, after all."

"And you've been so much help with that," Hob says.

Something dangerous flashes briefly in Desire's eyes, and Hob remembers how fickle they can be. Like fire, Dream had said.

Then it subsides. "Careful, Robert," they say easily, leaning on their hand, "one might think you've chosen a side."

No thinking about it, Hob thinks. "Families shouldn't have sides."

"Oh, ours isn't supposed to," Desire agrees. "And yet."

And yet. "Is there something in particular that has you breaking your self-imposed generosity today?"

It's one day before his and Dream's usual meeting, after all. That can't be a coincidence. Technically, they meet all the time now, but they always keep June 7th for nostalgia's sake.

"I simply enjoy the atmosphere," says Desire, leaning back in their chair. They thrust out a hand, and a rainbow flag flutters off the wall into their grasp, drawn by their whims. Desire drapes it over their shoulders.

"I guess that makes sense," Hob says.

Desire raises an eyebrow.

Hob gestures at them. "Desire. Isn't that your thing?"

They give him a crafty smile, a little teeth, that suggests Hob's going to learn something he may not entirely like. "Well, it is certainly of interest to me."

"Of interest," Hob echoes. Might as well say fire was "of interest" to a pyromaniac. "Isn't that what you do? Dream makes dreams, and..." he trails off.

"I am Desire," they say. "So, in a way, I feel all desires at all times. Yes, even yours, Robert." They pat him on the cheek, and wink. "I know what you feel."

Hob's cheeks heat, but Desire doesn't linger on it, thankfully.

"But, my own desire? Hm, no, not in the way you would think."

"But you--" Hob doesn't know how to phrase the confusion in his mind.

Desire runs their tongue along their lower lip. "Are you calling me a slut, Robert?"

"Would take one to know one, I suppose," Hob says before he can even think about it, and Desire laughs, bright and loud.

"You are so cute. You would be delicious if you weren't obsessed with Dream. But, no. I can feel desired," Desire says, emphasizing the past tense. The objective nature of it. "But that, while certainly tasty, is not quite the same as feeling it oneself, now is it?"

What might it be like, Hob thinks, feeling a pang of sympathy for them despite how they've treated Dream, how he'd automatically marked them as an enemy in his mind, to be surrounded by wanting and not be able to feel it?

"I... guess not," he says. "So you don't want anything?"

Desire shrugs. "I enjoy things. But if I can't have them, it simply passes like--" they pull off the flag and let it flutter to the floor "-- a gust of wind. And I move on to something else. Otherwise, I chase others' desires. Your inn is full of them. Desires for peace, for belonging, for change and magic and-- yes, lust, too, but more of an undertone. It is..." they run their tongue over their teeth, thinking. "Aromatic."

"What does desire 'taste' like?" Hob asks.

"Why don't you tell me," Desire says.

"I'm not going to lick you," Hob says, and Desire cackles.

"Open offer," they say. "Be all metaphorical like Dream, then."

"Alright, fine." Hob decides to indulge them, because he has actually learned something interesting today. "It's like... the smell of a good meal. You don't quite... taste it, exactly? But you can imagine tasting it."

"Good answer," says Desire, and steals his drink for a sip. "I knew I could count on you to listen, Hob."

Hob's not sure if it's the tone, like something long undecided has now been settled, or if it's the use of his old nickname, but suddenly the afternoon tilts, and Hob realizes with a swoop in his stomach that they're here for a purpose, and not just poking at Dream.

The Endless almost never communicate directly, Hob knows this. Goddammit.

"I've spent a lot of time in these sorts of places, you know," Desire says, gesturing around. "They are right--" they interlace their fingers in example "--in the center of my realm."

"Depending on the year, I would have thought you and Despair together," Hob says, wary now that he's realized this is coming to some sort of point.

"A common assumption," Desire says, nodding like a teacher whose student is getting on the right track. "See, people often think my twin and I are opposites. Desire, Despair." They hold out both hands separately again, then clasp them. "But they don't have it right. Hope is the opposite of Despair. Do you know what the opposite of Desire is?" They reach across the table to tap their sharp nails against his sternum. "Shame."

"And that's... part of your domain, as well?" Hob guesses.

"Indeed. Who could know shame as well as one who desires? They both--" they lay their hand flat to his heart "--live here."

Hob supposes he himself has had plenty of desires over the years, and plenty of shame too -- though not necessarily over the same matters.

"Hence," they spread their hands wide, "my presence. The duality of Desire."

"So what do you do?" Hob asks. "When you're here because of shame, I guess."

"I am always both," says Desire. "But." They smile sweetly, and it actually does look sweet, for once. "I am merely here to hold your hand."

Hob must look at them with an expression of vague disgust, for they snort and roll their eyes.

"Not you, Robert. You!" They gesture broadly at the entire inn. "Death is always going on and on about serving humanity. I know how to do my job too, you know."

They frown at him, at the idea he might think otherwise, and it's-- it's actually kind of sweet, how much they care about this. It really is.

"That's sweet," he says, and Desire grumbles. Hob can't help but smile.

"I take the charge of those who live in the heart of Desire very seriously," they sniff. Their gaze slants over Hob's shoulder, watching something across the room. "Relatedly, if that man at the bar follows through on his desire to say something homophobic to those children on their date, I am going to shoot him."

"Ooookaaayyy," Hob says, snapping his fingers in front of their eyes until their attention turns back to him. Hob's bartender will handle any issues; he would really rather not have an Endless making a scene.

Desire smiles placidly at him. "What was I saying? Ah, yes. Desire and shame go hand in hand. Almost like dreams and nightmares, you might say."

Hob goes still again, on instinct. "Right."

"My sister and I are very close, even if we are not, actually, opposites. Dream and I were close, once." They drag their finger around the rim of Hob's glass. "Wanting. Dreaming. So similar, and yet, so different, too. It hurts, to really let yourself want what you've dreamt of. It hurts to desire, don't you think? It's sharp, like a blade."

"Yes," Hob says. "It is."

"Mmm. But shame... shame is like a heavy, warm blanket. It makes you want to just--" they mime pulling fabric over their head-- "disappear. My brother and I have a very complicated relationship. Perhaps, one day, we will be on better terms again, and he can tell me about his desires, and I can tell him about my dreams. I would love to know what it feels like."

Hob isn't sure if he's putting the pieces of this meandering conversation together correctly, but whatever he is picking up on, he doesn't like the sound of.

"Dream is always going on and on and on and on about the importance of dreams and it's so annoying but you know what? I'm starting to think he's right." They give Hob a warning glance. "Do not tell him I said that. But, yes, I'm afraid that desires without dreams hand in hand are just--" they slide their hand across the table and let it stop at the edge. "Impotent. Static. And god knows what good dreams even are without desire but Dream will never admit that."

"So you're what," Hob says, even though he knows this is not what this is about, "trying to mending fences?"

Desire smiles sunnily. "I just want him to call me. I'm bored, and he's spent far too much time in my sister's realm recently."

Then they stand in one fluid motion.

"What are you saying," Hob asks. He feels sort of faint, whiplashed.

"Oh, I've said nothing, I'm doing nothing. I merely don't want to have to fill an empty seat next June, that is all. I'll be far too busy." They wink, and then they're gone.

Hob sits still for a long time, after. He's still not sure he understood... all of that. He understands that the Endless aren't supposed to interfere in each other's affairs and that sometimes riddles result.

What he does understand is that if Desire, of all people, has decided to be helpful, then he definitely has something to be concerned about. Something he needs to do something about.

He shakily drains the rest of his glass, then stands. Hob has never gotten anywhere by being static.

Time to go try to do something about it.

[thousandyearphantombunker]

"just give them an aac device!"

"just teach them sign language"

"body language and facial expressions alone are good enough for communicating what you need"

Nonononono f*!k off. Stop acting like nonverbal people have easy solutions to their lack of verbality. Not everyone can use an aac device- some people struggle with spelling or can't spell at all, some people have motor skills issues that makes typing a nightmare that takes a long time, some can't articulate themselves without outside help. Learning sign is hard if you again have motor skills issues or struggle to make facial expressions that convey what your feeling (flat affect applies to more than just a person's voice- some people really struggle to make facial expressions and have stilted or strange body language- you people can understand why autistic people get burnt out from masking all day- you know often having to control their body language and make certain facial expressions etc yet you can't understand why nonverbal autistics can't just learn sign- a language very heavy on facial expressions and expressive body language?) also again spelling and motor skill issues are a pain and also a lot of families with deaf or nonverbal children refuse to learn sign for said children and I'm sorry in day to day life I haven't met many people who speak sign- yeah you can move to a community with a lot of deaf or nonverbal people that use sign but that's not always possible and its very limiting. And do I even have to explain the third one- autistic body language is confusing to neurotypicals and I hate the stereotype that its just so blunt and obvious/better than neurotypical communication- maybe that's what its like for you and your 'smart sheldon cooper/Wednesday Addams' style autism but not every autistic person 'says exactly what they mean' often times autistic people struggle with semantics and articulating sentences that make any sense! and all these misunderstandings surrounding stimming are annoying to!- spinning can be a 'happy' stim but it can also mean your overwhelmed or understimulated, a lot of people with autism have voices that lack inflections, mix that in with being unable to use words and no it does not help communicate their needs- f!*k off with acting like its easy not all autistic people who are nonverbal can spell, not all autistic people w are nonverbal have good motor skills and body language alone is never enough to convey a persons needs. Before anyone comes after me yes Sign is body language but its also actual symbols and can convey full thoughts and ideas and sentences and also body language is hard for a lot of autistic people to convey like stated above.

Not every form autistic communication is being 'logical' and unoffended because 'we're just more logical than those superfluous, shallow neurotypicals that let their feelings control them and are never direct about what they want-we value facts and logic unlike those butthurt neurotypicals' and being overly blunt- no a lot of autistic people find that communication is messy and the ways they can communicate are ineffective and your 'logical, facts dont care about your feelings' style of communication isn't as amazing as you think it is. Stop speaking over nonverbal autistics- their is no real perfect solution to them not being able to speak. And I'm gonna say it- while not all nonverbal people are low functioning or high support needs or whatever the new term is-being nonverbal is a massive disadvantage and having your disability be visible like that is scary in many situations and being unable to communicate your needs can make it impossible to meet your needs-

[hollowflight-propaganda]

Gonna come out the gate swinging and say that the revelation of Clay being a bigwings works for what it is, and those who criticize only this part of the book need to read it again.

Clay's arc in this book is realizing that he isn't the monster he was raised to be, which he fulfills before this point. He didn't bring himself to kill Fjord because even when faced with the possibility of getting killed, he won't go against his morals. When fighting Peril he very clearly said that he doesn't think the world needs to work this way. That he doesn't feel a killer inside of him, and that's not who he is.

Clay has already confronted this supposed monster inside of him by deciding to find a different way to fulfill the things he needs to do as a dragonet of destiny. At this point he doesn't have doubts about who he is, because he knows what his true values are now, and that he can still hold onto those in the face of adversity.

Kestrel's last words before she takes off are, "Listen, MudWing. For all your noble talk, you're not going to be any use to the others if you can't fight and kill to defend them. Just think about that." This is only part until the reveal of Clay being a bigwings where this conflict is brought up again, because Clay knows now that he doesn't need to kill to defend those he cares about. Earlier in the book, Clay constantly thought about whether or not he'd have to kill, if he'd succumb to this monster inside of him. But now, after being put in a death arena (the perfect outer conflict to go against this inner conflict I might add) and finding a way around having to do so, he knows this isn't true.

"But that's not realistic!" I hear you cry. I think that's what Tsunami and Glory are supposed to represent in this book. Tsunami has to kill Gill in self defense, and Glory kills Fjord to save Clay. These scenes existing beside Clay's arc show that yes, sometimes killing may be necessary in a life or death scenario, but it's possible to find a less violent way out if you want to try and look for it.

That's supposed to be the thought process behind this whole arc, things are resolved not by following the Talons plan, not by choosing one of the SandWing sisters, and not by conforming to what the world perceives them as. They find their own way to stop the war.

And while the idea of never having to commit an act of violence to protect those you love in a world that's been wrecked by war is very idealistic I admit, remember that this ultimately is a book series aimed at kids. I'm not saying that in a, "It's not that serious, it's just a kids book," kinda way (that'd be very hypocritical of me after analyzing these dragons to hell and back), I'm saying it in a, "Remember what the target audience is," kinda way.

Tui's message to kids is one of being hopeful in the world, even when it's hard to see the good. Wings of Fire for being a very violent book series has always had a really hopeful message about not conforming to what society wants of you, and finding your own way to live the life you want to live.

Clay's arc in this book is exactly this. He's been raised by the Talons since birth to be a soldier for their cause, but he doesn't want to do it their way. So he decides he's not going to.

Clay's not a monster, and has never been. He's a bigwings. A big brother, a good friend, someone who will do anything for his family.

"Kestrel was wrong, all wrong about him, and she always had been. His strength wasn't for killing and violence; it was for protecting his brothers and sisters. He wasn't destined to be a monster. He wasn't a killer deep inside somewhere.

He was a bigwings."