#maybe the world is over or something

[thatone-ranboofan996]

Must Be Something In The Water - Smile 2 Alternate Ending/Continuation

Chapter 2

Everything felt… foggy.

Like floating in an endless abyss of nothingness.

Everything felt overwhelming. Like the nothingness that surrounded her was beginning to consume her from the inside out. She could feel herself wasting away, becoming one with the universe all over again.

And you know what? That was okay, she found.

Nothing was better than everything. She had gone through so much in her final days, and she was quite frankly looking forward to finally escaping the pain and suffering.

And then…. Out of the nothingness came….

…something.

A pinprick of light at the edge of her vision, as if the darkness was only a sheet of paper, and had been stabbed by a sewing needle.

She reached for that light, letting it grow and swallow her.

For a moment, (or maybe it had been a while???) All she could feel was the feeling of cool air blowing against her skin, and the sounds of machines beeping all around her.

She slowly, and groggily regained consciousness, trying and failing to remember anything and everything that had taken place. Where she was. How she’d managed to get here.

The room had gone silent, she noticed first. That was odd. That monotonous beeping had been nice.

She felt her eyes flutter open, still blurry with sleep, and …. For some reason, her right eye was dark. As if something was blocking her vision.

She slowly lifted her fingertips towards her face, her arm trembling with the insane amount of effort it took to raise her arm at all. Her hand found soft cotton surrounding that half of her face. Had something happened to her eye???

She found, to her own dismay, she couldn’t recall. She couldn’t remember a lot, actually. What had happened. Who she was.

That one frightened her a little bit.

She couldn’t even recall her own name. She couldn’t recall… anyone’s name. She could remember vague faces and voices, but…. None of them had a name attached to their face.

She looked around, trying to make her eyes regain focus. The room was mostly dark, all aside from the light filtering in through the window nearby.

Once again, she realized that the room was dead silent, and horribly still. Was she in the hospital?? It almost seemed to be too quiet to be a hospital at all.

She opened her mouth and sucked in a breath, feeling her heart beginning to race as more and more questions without answers bubbled up.

She attempted to speak, and found that her throat was incredibly dry, her voice coming out cracked and inaudible. She hoarsely coughed, and tried clearing her throat.

“H-hello??” She croaked, hearing her own voice leaving her mouth and sounding so unlike her. She looked around the room again, and saw absolutely no movement. Heard no movement whatsoever. “Hello??? Someone help…” she whispered into the dark calm of the room, and was once again met with silence.

All at once, she realized that she was incredibly thirsty. She felt as though she hadn’t drank anything for days.

Her eyes darted to her bedside table, finding several vases of slightly wilted flowers and multiple cards, boxes, clothes… just a whole lot of nothing helpful. She found herself wincing, a pain beginning to flare up in her face and lower back.

Oh jeez. She couldn’t remember much from before, but she could definitely remember that back pain.

“…Doctor?” She called out, her rasping voice still barely breaching a whisper. “Nurse?… Anyone??” She breathed slowly, not understanding how she could be waking up like this and not have doctors and nurses surrounding her like vultures.

Why was that though??

She glanced over to the upper panel of her bed, and noticed the buttons to adjust her bed, as well as a big red button labeled “CALL”. She raised a shaking hand up and pressed the button, expecting a beep, a crackle of static from the speaker, anything. She was only met with silence. How odd. She pressed the button a few more times, listening closely to see if it was working. Silence was the only sound that greeted her.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, feeling a little flare of frustration rise up inside her. Those damn call buttons were literally there to save lives, and it just so happens that she got the one that didn’t work. Fantastic.

Her eyes were drawn back to the vase of flowers, more importantly, the water that the flowers were sitting in.

Her stomach churned at the sight of the water, and suddenly it didn’t seem to be such a big deal that she was in pain or that the doctors weren’t immediately at her bedside, because all she cared about was the fact that she needed water. Asap.

She reached her trembling arm out towards the vase, and found that lifting just the weight of her arm felt like an impossible task. She strained, trying to scoot over just enough that she could bat at the vase with her fingertips. She was finally able to get a slight grip on the vase and she dragged it closer, her hands reaching up towards the flowers she didn’t give a shit about, and tossing them to the floor.

She reached her other arm out, and carefully took the vase into her hands. Her arms shook with the effort it took to keep the vase held up, and after what felt like eternity, she was able to set the vase into her lap.

She felt a little grossed out at the thought of drinking from a dirty vase, but another part of her couldn’t make herself care enough to not get a drink.

Bringing the vase to her lips with trembling hands, she took a long drink of the water, and immediately felt her mouth and throat cool down. It was glorious, and the taste was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She didn’t really have time to taste it much before she was chugging the entire vase of water, ignoring the splashes that ran down her chin and onto the sheets and blankets.

She made it about ½ way through the water when a thought struck her, almost making her drop the vase on accident.

Her mother wasn’t here.

The memory of her mom startled her, and she found herself pulling the vase away from her mouth and sucking in a nervous breath.

Her eyes scanned the room again, this time in search of her mom. The room was still silent. Still empty.

She was still alone.

She had been angry with her mom, she slowly began to remember. She had yelled at her about something, and then her mom had screamed back at her. And then….

She glanced up to the wall, and found a mirror hanging on the opposite wall from her. In the mirror, she was able to see her own reflection staring back at her, and she was taken aback.

Her face was wrapped in a white cloth that was completely covering the entire right side of her face. She had a substantial amount of bruising around her usable eye and her nose, painting her skin in deep shades of black, blue and purple. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she looked as though she had not eaten anything in ages.

She looked frail. Weak.

She exhaled slowly, feeling her own breath shaking with her as things began to piece together.

Her name was Skye. She was a famous singer. And…something bad happened to her. A lot of bad things had happened to her, but something worse happened to her.

She vaguely remembered standing up on a stage, and seeing thousands of eyes gazing back at her from the darkness, lights from above completely blinding her. She remembered being terrified.

Suddenly, and all at once, her stomach did a flip and she fell forwards, hanging her head over the edge of the bed and vomiting up all the water she had just drank. Skye gagged harshly, until nothing came up again. She reasoned that maybe she shouldn’t have drank all that water so fast.

The adrenaline shock seemed to sharpen her mind, and she realized that usually a doctor would’ve come to check on her by now, if this was just a typical hospital. But no one had come yet… and now that she thought about it, since when were hospitals ever this silent?

Her gaze turned towards the door nearby, and she noticed that the door was closed and locked completely.

Skye furrowed her brows in confusion. Why would the doctors lock her in her room?

She suddenly felt a strong urge to get up out of bed and go looking around for someone.

She glanced down at her left arm, finding tubes and needles poked into her skin, covered up with clear medical tape.

She reached for the tubes and tried to gingerly tug them free from her skin, but she was immediately met with a flash of pain when trying to pull on them. She grimaced, instead moving to peel the tape away instead.

That worked better, and she was able to quickly free herself from the tubes and needles. She tossed them down to the side of her bed and scrunched her nose in disgust when blood began to seep out of the holes they had left behind in her skin.

Skye slowly moved to swing her legs off the edge of the bed, and found that it took a lot of her strength and concentration to make her body work and coordinate with her mind. She sat there for a moment, shivering at the sudden cold, not being covered by her blankets any longer. It was freezing, and the hospital gown that she had wrapped loosely around her body was not nearly enough to keep her warm.

She shivered uneasily, exhaling slowly. A small puff of mist escaped her mouth.

Okay. That was weird. Hospitals definitely shouldn’t be cold enough that the patients can see their own breath.

Skye shivered, reaching forwards and pulling a folded up hoodie off of her nightstand and slowly pulling it on over her head. The black fabric was soft, and still completely untouched. It was one of the hoodies she had released the last time she went on tour, and had an embarrassingly large image of her own face printed on the front, her name trailing down the left sleeve in a loopy cursive font.

Without a second thought, she carefully pushed herself off the bed and climbed to her feet, her knees trembling under her weight, and her leg muscles immediately threatening to give out under her. She inhaled shakily, before quietly letting it out and taking a step. The moment her leg lifted off the ground, she lost her balance and fell backwards, stumbling into the hospital bed directly behind her.

The smooth plastic railing dug into her spine, and instantly sent shots of pain through her like red fireworks. She grabbed the edge of the bed with all her strength, biting back a scream of pain, and trying to force her leg muscles to work.

Finally, after what felt like forever, her legs had stopped shaking so harshly, and she felt as though she was now able to stand on her own without her muscles betraying her.

She stood still for a moment, still shakily trying to breathe and regain her composure again. Her back was still throbbing angrily, but she figured since it was just a small bump she probably would be okay for the time being.

She gingerly snaked her fingers back behind her back and pressed against the sore spot, feeling the familiar ridge of her surgery scar. She massaged small circles into her muscles, trying to keep herself calm while she tried to alleviate the pain.

It didn’t take long before her back released a bit of its tension, her muscles warmed up and ready to move again.

She exhaled slowly, turning to look around her room now that she was up on her feet.

As she suspected, she was most certainly in a small hospital room. The only odd thing about it… well, all the lights and machines in the room were off. Even the heart monitor that she had been hooked up to was silent, its screen dark.

She swallowed, a nervous feeling beginning to rise up. She held onto the railing of her hospital bed once again, and carefully lifted her foot up, the muscles in her other leg still trembling weakly, but managing to keep her supported. She tried the other leg, and had a similar result.

She supposed she would probably be okay as long as she was careful. She just needed to step out of her room and flag down a nurse.

She took a wobbling step forwards, taking her hand off of the bed and praying that she was able to stay upright.

Her head was really beginning to bother her, and her eye throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. She really hoped she could find a nurse soon. Fuck, some Vicodin would be phenomenal right now. That thought irked a little bit of irritation in her, realizing the likelihood of the doctors prescribing it to her was extremely slim.

She took a couple more steps, being careful to stay upright and balanced, and finally, she was able to press her shoulder against the wall again. At least she had something to keep her standing, even if she lost her footing.

She lifted an arm, already beginning to feel the exhaustion setting in just from walking over here. She really wished she could sit back down for a moment, but she also really needed to have a nurse come in and speak with her. She still was having trouble remembering what happened and just how exactly she had gotten here.

She reached forward and pushed the door latch open, and then unlocked the door handle. She breathed slowly, trying to keep her body moving. The last thing she needed to do was have a fall right now.

She pushed the door handle down and took a few steps forward, peeking out the door.

Her heart sank.

The hallway was almost completely pitch black, and there were only 2 of the overhead fluorescent lights illuminated down towards the end of the hall. In the dim light, she could see the faint outlines of runaway gurneys littering the halls, papers covering every surface, and (though she may have just imagined it) she could’ve sworn she saw the still form of a person down at the end of the hall, lying completely still.

She felt herself immediately tense up, her breath catching in her throat. She took a small step back, letting the door slowly swing closed.

She inhaled slowly, her interest in going searching for a doctor vanishing in an instant.

Her heart had already begun to hammer frantically in her chest, her muscles instinctively beginning to tremble with the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

Oh god, something bad must be happening. Something really bad by the looks of it. How long had she been asleep for?? Where was everyone, and why had she been left here??

With panic beginning to course through her veins, she twisted the locks on her door closed once again and pushed the door stopper down. She took a few more steps away from the door, her mind beginning to flutter nervously with anxious thoughts. Why was she here?? What had happened?? Where were her friends and family? Where was her mom?

She let her fingers tangle into her hair, the nerves already overwhelming her, and she harshly tugged at her scalp in an attempt to make herself calm down. The longer she kept her hair clutched in her fist, the more it pulled her scalp until finally, several strands ripped free into her palms.

She felt herself take a deep breath in, letting the hair free from her hands and turning back towards her room.

There, on her nightstand, was her saving grace.

Her phone.

Instantly, her mind brightened at the thought. She could call the police. She could call her mom and ask her to pick her up. She could call Gemma-

Her mind nearly did a barrel roll at the memory of her lifelong friend’s name. Her old ride or die. The friend that insisted that she would stay with her through everything.

But she hadn’t, had she?

No. She had left when things got rough. When the drugs became an issue.

After Paul.

The crash.

Rehab, recovery, the tour, meet and greets, photo shoots, dress rehearsals, Lewis-

Her mind stopped on that memory, and it all was starting to come back to her. All the weird-ass behavior. The screaming. The crunching on bone and flesh against solid steel. The smile.

She outstretched her hand, bracing herself against the wall as her stomach did another somersault, and she instinctively leaned forward, attempting to throw something up that wasn’t there.

The smiles… they had been the problem. They were the things that had been chasing her, haunting her, hurting her. Using her mind like a weapon against herself. She remembered feeling as though she was going insane, like she had no control over anything that happened around or to her. Feeling less like a person and more like a puppet on a string, being yanked about for others entertainment.

For IT’s entertainment.

Another wave of nausea rolled over her as she explicitly remembered the way that awful….thing had looked at her. It looked so excited. So gleeful about her terror and pain. It’s eyes she remembered best of all. Those horrible bloodshot eyes, so swollen they looked ready to burst like overripe fruit left to rot.

The sounds of her jaw breaking inside her own head, as it tore her apart from the inside out.

That memory above all the others, made her physically cringe, her hands reaching up to grab at her face, just to satisfy her own mind that she did not, in fact, have her head split open like a watermelon.

That image made her feel even sicker.

She needed to stop thinking about this shit right now. There was a time and a place, and right now was not it.

She shambled back towards her bedside, her legs feeling stronger and stronger after each passing moment. Her hands found their way around her phone, unplugging it from the charger and clicking the power on. Her battery percentage was at 8 percent, it seemed the phone had never charged at all in the first place.

The date was November 25th, 2024.

The last point in which she could remember had been the launch day for her tour, which had been on October 18th.

She had been asleep for over a month.

[marypsue]

Man, it's cool and all if you see a metaphor for marginalisation in the monstrous, and if you want the power fantasy of 'what if you could just eat anybody who threatened you/pissed you off'. Me too.

However, as soon as you start saying 'no, these monsters are a 1:1 on Specific Marginalised Group, and you have to treat them in the fiction like they are directly representative of real human members of the marginalised group', BUT you also, in the fiction, make them hurt/kill/eat humans? And then try to shame me, your audience, for noticing or engaging with the bit where they kill people, because you made them directly representative of a real-world marginalised group? You have lost me, and also, I think, the plot.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[fireflysugarpie]

cumplane au but they both keep accidentally dom-ing each other

[ovrrdogg]

Hfjone au where instead of kidnapping people for his reality show he accidentally discovers twitch and starts a stream and becomes the most popular twitch streamer ever. People love tuning in to watch forest man and his wacky antics. They love the “larp.” Twitch keeps trying to get him to come to cons he can never attend. People make wildly popular edits and gifs of him to share on stan twitter.

Instead of getting people to entertain him, he works to entertain people.

[triglycercule]

imagining this very funny totally amusing bit where dust (despite having a lot of pockets) makes horror carry a lighter for him (only because he can't be bothered to remember to bring one on him all the time) and horror keeps it in his head

but horror's a dick so everytime dust wants to smoke and he needs a light horror's always like "whats the password :3" (he actually said the emoticon i was the quotation marks) and dust has to guess. because horror changes it every time. and its never something predictable. and then he either just totally gives up on that cig or he has to forcefully dig into horror's head to get the lighter because horror's being a PRICK

now dust is shoulder deep into horror's eyesocket while horror is clawing and screaming and killer's just standing there behind them watching this unfold with that fuckass smile on his face (he can't get this type of entertainment anywhere else)

[inkyrainstorms]

The Totally Canon Ultimate Friend Group

[shadelorde]

Why do so many people unironically think the Fire Nation is the misogyny-less “girlboss” nation. What the fuck.

[clockwork-carstairs]

“You made yourself a different person than the one I loved” – on Kit’s letter, his projections & idea of Ty

aka where i try to make sense of kit’s letter in the context of who ty was to him. basically i think that understanding that kit may not have had an accurate image of ty in his head helps to contextualise why kit believes the things he does, regardless of whether they’re fair to ty or not. it makes more sense reading lines like:

“in all the world, kit had never met anyone he believed to be so incapable of evil”

“all his energy had gone into ty, all his devotion and hopes for the future”

because you can see so clearly how much kit was projecting onto ty. ty, more than a friend—or whatever you might call it—was also the personification of this new world and all it meant for kit. kit saw him as this overwhelming force of good, beautiful as an angel, someone who not only wouldn’t do evil but was “incapable” of it.

so you can kind of see why everything was lost for kit once ty went through with the necromancy: because by doing so he was breaking the image kit had of him. of ty as a saviour of sorts from kit’s previous life, the person who convinced him to stay, who made kit feel like he was really a part of something, something magical and exclusive that not everyone got to be.

further evidenced by other lines:

“he had been too fixated on losing ty to tell him what he needed to hear” -> kit knows he should have told ty much sooner how he really felt about the situation. kit knows he deflected and in various ways lied to ty about trying to bring livvy back. but kit had wanted to stay by ty’s side, stay included in ty’s plans, more than his desire to tell ty the truth that he hated the idea.

“you made yourself a different person than the one i loved” -> ty as a person being shaped by kit’s projections of all his hopes and dreams, the face of this new world kit was drawn into, the first person he really got close to after he was pulled from one world to another, the person who convinced him to stay.

was the “person [kit] loved” an accurate reflection of who ty really was, flaws and all? unlikely. and the image of ty in kit’s head didn’t allow room for the real ty’s complicated, overwhelming grief, either, and the ways he would try to cope with it: and i believe this is part of why kit was so shocked by what happened and why he’s still so angry at ty. because ty proved to him that he wasn’t what kit believed him to be, and so all of kit’s hopes for his new life came crumbling down.

do i think it’s fair to ty? no, i don’t. but i think both can be true: that kit is upset and had gone through a traumatic situation, and has valid feelings about it while also understanding that he had a very skewed perception of ty that wasn’t fair to him.

mostly i think we need more room for understanding ty’s feelings*. how it must have felt to lose his twin sister in a horrifying way, devised a plan that (to him) seemed completely reasonable** only to have his best friend switch up on him last minute, tell ty he loved him mid-ritual, later say he wished he’d never met ty and basically tell ty that he was selfish and then on top of that leave without saying goodbye.

i also stand by my belief that “how long do you think it will take you to forgive me” is something both ty and kit could/should be asking each other, not just one way around. i honestly don’t understand why both kit and ty would think only kit needs to forgive ty and not both ways. mostly i just don’t think the narrative that ty’s the only one who needs forgiving is very fair, or makes much sense with their characterisation + the context + what actually happened.

in sum, when kit says “you made yourself a different person than the one i loved”, the person he’s referring to is an idealised version of ty whom he had projected all his hopes and dreams for the future onto, and by going through with the necromancy ty completely shattered kit’s understanding of him. this is consistent with other lines in his letter: “you wanted that more than you wanted me”, “when you brought livvy back, you changed yourself” (did ty really change? or did he just prove to be different from kit’s idea of him? genuine question), and perhaps most strongly evidenced by this line: “i don’t know the person you are now. you took yourself away from me. i can’t forgive that.” i don’t understand why he can’t forgive ty for not being the person kit thought he was, nor how on earth ty was supposed to know this, but i digress.

* i hope this is addressed in TWP because between TDA and now, we’ve had FAR more insight into kit’s thought processes than ty’s and as such we’re only really seeing one side of the situation.

** i also think part of the glaring misunderstanding between kit and ty can be understood from their respective backgrounds. obviously for kit, growing up away from the shadowhunter world, something like necromancy is completely out of the question. the way it would be for you or me. but ty grew up in a world where bringing people back to life was something that could and had actually happened. so it’s a far crazier, more impossible idea to kit than it would’ve been to ty.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

waiting for marvel to take you up as their comic artist so that we can have amazing art with cherik official storyline

marvel hire me to draw professor x and magneto making out sloppy style for forty issues straight you will get a BAJILLION dollars i promise

[theotherbuckley]

Okay but Tommy drops out of high school — he told his father he was gay and he told him he could either be homeless or go to military school. He goes to military school and joins the army and he likes flying the helicopters because it means he doesn’t have to do any of the killing himself. And he makes some friends.

There's one guy who's like the squad leader who's a few years old and built like a Greek god and Tommy's young and a little bit in love. And they're friends maybe even family because this whole group of people spend every waking (and sleeping) moment together. And they all talk like a family and they all say they love each other and tease each other and it's nice. And one night it's just the two of them trading a flask of some sort of alcohol that Tommy doesn't know the name of and the man asks Tommy why he joined the army and where he wants to be in five years and Tommy trusts this man. He's half way in love with him so he doesn't even think twice before he tells the story about the time he came out to his family and his father nearly beat him to death before sending him here. And the conversation tapers off after that and he doesn’t register the change in the air but when he wakes up the next morning he’s being dishonourably discharged because he poses “unacceptable risk to the high standards of morale, good order and discipline, and unit cohesion that are the essence of military capability”. He knows what that means.

Tommy joins the fire department because he doesn’t know what else to do. He represses anything regarding his sexuality because he knows now that it’s wrong. He almost feels like he has a family again because his captain seems to like him and some of the guys are cool even if they say things he doesn’t agree with. And then he starts agreeing because maybe they’re right and he’s wrong and he’s just inherently wrong. So he follows their leads and is just straight racist because that’s how he can fit in.

And then a black lesbian woman joins and says she’s a black lesbian woman and Tommy doesn’t understand that either because you can’t be queer you just can’t be because it’s wrong.

But he nearly dies and and an Asian man saves his life and a black lesbian woman comes up with a better idea than any of them had and she tells them she’s no different and she is just as capable. So he improves himself he does and he tries to be better but he still can’t be who he is because the last 2 times he was honest about that he was betrayed.

Tommy leaves the 118 and “don’t ask, don’t tell” is lifted and he meets this guy he likes who likes him back and the 217 don’t seem to have a problem with the gender neutral pronouns and he slowly but surely lets himself open up again and be who he is and when the thing with that guy doesn’t work out because he’s moving to New York and Tommy’s not sure he’s ready to leave, it’s okay because his crew is there and they support him and he can still be himself.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Veilguard vaguing:

It's not automatically a good thing, actually, that the game de-emphasizes or even outright removes racism against elves, and bigotry against other groups, from the story

[wundrousarts]

Something I’ve noticed for awhile is that I often get comments from people about how they are surprised how I always come up with theories and try to guess what might happen and they “could never do that” themselves. I want to say: yes you can! There’s honestly a shortage of Nevermoor theories and ideas and speculation and etc and I want to see MORE!!!

Want to talk about how Morrigan’s mom is actually secretly alive? How the Scholar Mistresses are a Wundrous Act? Do you think the Tempus Divinity looks like an owl, or do you think Weaving and Ruination would be met together? Or have you ever thought about how this one line, from Chapter 19 of Nevermoor, about Betram Crow actually means he was a Cursed Child? Whatever it is you want to talk about: GO FOR IT!!!

I personally find it very fun to go sort of “English class mode” and look at the text in front of me and think about what different things might mean and analyze it and even overthink it to an unnecessary (but fun!) amount. But that’s just me and how I like to approach things! You don’t need to make long posts and quote specific lines if that isn’t your style. The big thing to remember is that so much can happen in the next six books, so throw any idea out there! You never know what twists and turns will be thrown at us. I think it’s fun to share these ideas and discuss with other people— sure, maybe there’s just something you missed when reading, but perhaps some new ideas spawn might from it. Some speculation could even serve as inspiration for fics!

There are some theories and thoughts that I’ve posted that have been “debunked” when I reread a book, or when someone pointed out something, or even just when something had a real-world basis that I as an American didn’t catch. But it was still fun to think about it all, and there’s some bits and pieces that I see as notable and worth considering. I think most of the Silverborn Masterpost is going to be “wrong”, but if just 1% of it is “correct”, even indirectly, I will take that as a win. I know it feels like during the hiatus everyone’s talked about everything, but I hope that the incoming communal reread (fingers crossed) and obviously Silverborn brings some speculation back to the fandom because I want to discusssssss!

[faerie-fang]

lots of thoughts lately about fantasy au archer geto,,,,